For your reading pleasure: a drunk review of The Sword’s Low Country
Duuuude. You know who rules? The Sword. They rule so hard, they ran out of rocks to smash your head against. And you know what, mayne? They can even strum on them acoustics! That’s right my fellow longhairs, our favorite space nerd-cum-Black Sabbath- worshiping burnouts from Austin have a new record and there ain’t an electric guitar in sight. (Insert Matthew Dazed and Confused guy voice: and that’s all right, all right, all right. Now, go buy a Lincoln)
But, for real, though, Low Country is still The Sword, but when jammed acoustic, it feels like some of those timeless jams like My Captain from Grand Funk Railroad, or some even some Moody Blues, or Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. Now, before you listen and you get your Doors shirt in a twist, I ain’t saying this is classic rock, I am saying it has a vibe that works and harkens to an old spirit we don’t get much of these days. Cuz, seriously, my dawgs – when is the last time you heard an acoustic record that rips that wasn’t straight country or some guy with a beard in a flannel? This is a throw back to the 70’s and makes drinking beer super easy.
(If you’re keeping score, we’re drinking Rum and Cokes with limes. Cuba Libre’s if you’re into the fancy titles and such. I’m on number four.)
It doesn’t suck, like at all. You should buy a fat sack of that purp, turn the lights down low and get all down like you wanna talk to Sampson. And then, get weird to The Sword – yeah. Get weird to The Sword. Go to their shows, buy all of their shit. I own two Sword shirts, cuz I’m cool. You need to be cool, too.
The Sword, Low Country – fucking awesome, fully sick.