Crunchy, satisfying, sweaty rock’n’roll. Sure, there are similarities with The Stallions, who Rick sung for also – like, they’re both excellent and they both seem to have the spark and charge that comes from excitement and not calculation. I can’t seem to put my finger on it. The rock machine’s been made for such a long time – having been perfected in different forms by the Dictators, the Gories, and the Mummies – and so many bands have drag stripped down many a well-traveled road. It’s nothing new, but The Stupor Stars sure as hell don’t disappoint. They make muscle car rock that truly rips ass and makes it glaringly obvious – to me, at least – when a bunch of well-financed hipsters jump in a grocery cart with a squeaky wheel who start playing the equivalent of oldies radio on a weak signal try to lie to the audience by saying “We are rock.” The B-side is a ripping version of Bruce Springstein’s “Born to Run.” Great 7”.