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.
----------
No comments:
Post a Comment