Chugging, tense rock with a non-denominational punk ethic curling under hardened boogie cum cock rock guitars/rhythms from a gritty-eyed libertarian position.
Three cuts of improvised acid rock trio zonerism. It’s pretty much based on the fertile ’67-’72 best remembered from Hendrix’s “The Star Spangled Banner.”
A buncha people (all Brits) familiar with the band talk about why they think Morning Glory is their best. I’m not arguing, it’s the only one I’ve kept.
You can dance to it, it should get played on The World Music Café, it’s got a groove David Byrne could understand, and the tunes are actual distinct songs.
Lineage-from Milligram and Lamont, placing them in Boston’s gulping hardrockcore and whoop-ass drunk-speed-rock by the 40 oz. It rumbles exactly right.
The Charms hit signifiers (organ, chintzy brat vocals) more than the thing itself. The “rock me shock me” guitars flop on the bass/drums rather than ride’m.
Young girls, little people, blood, sex ‘n’ violence have been explicitly expressed via song and performance as the Dwarves spill seed into their third decade.
Heavy rock tuned into the lumbering trudge that flows in Sabbath’s wake and the down-tuned desert vibe Kyuss gifted to the EEC, where it lives and breathes.