Black by popular demand, indeed. Yellin’, stompin’, resurrectin’ scronk that Jon Spencer would sell his soul and hot wife for. Dirty, greasy-fingered cat call vocals. Mystery liquid-slippery guitars. Appalachian venom snakes of salvational bass. Bricks of firecrackers in the drums. Includes current and ex members of Neon King Kong, The Chargers Street Gang, and the Bassholes, so you know it’s dick in live socket, herky jerky smasho fun punk. James Brown’s illegitimate kids hooked to Pabst IVs who developed great reflexes for ducking dear old dad’s gun shots? It’s real fun to make believe it so.
–todd (Exit Stencil)