22 songs totaling almost an hour is a lot of any band, especially if it’s a collection of early mistakes, covers, and other things most woulda taped over.
The grooves are hotter, the solos are much tastier, and the period-flavored production is the final masterstroke, pushing the pedal through the floorboard.
Swingin’ Utters ooze authenticity. This San Francisco band has been touring and doing it right for so long for so little, ya really oughtta buy ’em drinks.
Though not at the top of the hierarchy, Sunday’s Best does a fine job of holding their own in the genre of “sometimes Knapsack, sometimes emo new wave.”
If Egon of Ghostbusters made an album, this would be it. Slip on your silver glitter deely-boppers, adjust your Coke bottle glasses, and rock out, Earthlings.