Psychobilly. I won’t even pretend to know much about it beyond the standup bassist pulling triplets, pompadour buzzcuts, spooky lyrics, and the proclivity for hot rods, cemeteries, and ladies with short bangs and corsets. I guess my aversion is that most of the time it comes across like an uninteresting musical version of Tales From the Crypt by people who spend a lot of time combing their hair and getting concussions in their bathrooms from slipping on all that fallen grease. Slagging an entire musical genre – and their fans – aside, I give The Slanderin a hearty thumbs up. Their gas is high octane, they’ve got fat guys on guitar and drums (which, for some reason, is always a plus for me when liking bands), it’s fast enough for a punk to like without thinking too much, and although the lyrics are completely dumb, it just seems to add to their desired deranged ambience. Nice change of pace. If you wish Tiger Army was spliced with street punk or The Reverend Horton Heat never smoked so much weed, you’d get The Slanderin.
–todd (Headline, Destroy)