It’s the kind of stuff that makes your blood boil. The kind of stuff that makes you wonder how some people can remember to breath when they’re this stupid.
Bruising metal compositions that sound like modern Kiss, old Keel, new Alice Cooper and bits of Mötley Crüe and Lita Ford. Strange, but all in all, I like it.
Johnny Dowd’s this furniture mover who lives in upstate New York and plays a little guitar and possesses a really vivid sense of tragedy, loss, and redemption.