I’m got a soft spot for non-Fonzie rock that has rockabilly twinges made by guys who don’t look like they’re modeled after Bowser from Sha Na Na. The Red Satyrs have a similar power to The Starvations and Throw Rag. The music’s swampy, twisted, and owes a bit to the Cramps. It reverbs and gets surfy wet at the edges, but at the core is undeniably fine songwriting that doesn’t rely on obvious bar-beaten-to-death chops or blurring speed. It lets the darkness, blood, and semen seep in, and before you know it, you’re the host and the infection’s spread.