Zeke ignore Motörhead about as much as Rancid ignores The Clash or The Queers ignore the Ramones. Template or historical antecedents? So what? Face it, the rock language is broadly limited: We all have the same chords. The battle is in composition, musical dynamic, and personal input. All of which “our boys” deal like a Suicide Jack/Aces High full house. So the salient question is “does it rock?” Yes. What else can I say?
It’s a perfectly articulated dirt-under-the-nails take on rocker-mung, and Jack Endino got it on tape. Peers Speedealer, Electric Frankenstein, and Lamont fell in my lap this month, as did the hard-bore rock team Quintaine Americana and tasty speed rockers Puddy and RPG. Fuckin’ ay, three chords, and a cloud a dust, spinning leads, and power stomp drums. “If anyone wants to get mellow… you can Get The FUCK OUTTA HERE!” (Aristotle. From “Nicomachean Ethics and Politics.”) My pick to click? “Ride to Live,” a mid-tempo bruiser about the most American of activities, the road trip.
(www.relapse.com)
