No techno remixes, no third-rate death metal, but no real pep either, Snakebites gathering guys with thick metal resumes to romp through Coverdale’s classics.
I’m a sucker for two-minute, straight-forward, three-chord rock, especially when the band’s made up of women in leather, minis, anklets, and spiked collars.
21 cuts of primal dead horse beatings from four guys who sound a lil’ like Sticky Fingers Stones with a crystal ball that can see the Ramones’n’Dead Boys.
Eight of the singles are here, but there is also a re-recording of “Pollen Count” and a remix of “Your Daddy’s Car” for variety. Two new songs are included.
19 artists, some local and some national, who have quite a knack for writing melodies that sometimes twist, sometimes turn, but are pop-oriented at the core.
The Distillers are trashy, violent, swear convincingly, snarl about pretty much everything, and rock harder, dirtier, and meaner than Joan Jett and Hole.