Although dirty old man Andre's still growlin' and howlin' about the good things in life ‑ pussy, ass, dope and pussy ‑ his rug burn voice no longer resonates visions of orange‑juice soaked BBQ ribs and Bonneville joyrides. Distracted by far less than 36‑24‑38 these days, the gritty "Pass the biscuits, please" signature voice now inertly punctuates the fuzzed‑out guitars of the Countdowns, Blues Explosion, Cheater Slicks and Compulsive Gamblers ‑ Andre's never had so much competition from a bunch of white‑boys‑gone‑black. Ol' Andre, senior citizen, was done plucked plumb outta his weekly‑rate hotel room on Detroit's notorious Cass Corridor and re‑branded as the Pimp of all Pimps, injected with the trademark Jon Spencer sound. A good idea in theory, but much to my chagrin, "Shut the gate Sally, and don't let me in."
–guest (In the Red)