Showing posts with label Drunken Reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Drunken Reviews. Show all posts

Feb 23, 2017

Drunken Review: Scott H. Biram - The Bad Testament

By Robert Dean

Whoop Whoop. Guess who’s back on the bottle, y’all?

Today’s drunk review is brought to them folks over @ Ghost Tequila. Now, I’m a known whiskey drinker, but show me a bottle with a cool ass skeleton rib cage thing, and I’m liable to give it a whirl. What makes this review, even more, fun is I don’t usually fuck with the fine agave plant’s sprits. This is uncharted territory. But, real talk: holy horse nuts, I’m shit hammered.

I'm embarrass your family at Christmas drunk. Yell at your uncle cuz he likes to listen to Alex Jones drunk. (Yeah, I’m a liberal. Fight me at the park, neckbeards.) This here Ghost Tequila is like if Patron didn’t taste like cat piss, and was something you’d go out of your way to order. For real, tho – Patron sucks. Who’s ordered that shit aside from that time the random loud guy with the shaved head made you do a shot with him? You know who I’m talking about. He wears a dress shirt with no undershirt, wears a bottle of cologne, his shaved his is shiny, and he drags around a girlfriend who looks miserable. Usually, her boobs are hanging out of her shirt.

Anyhow, on to the music. This week, we’re talking about that ol’ Scott H Biram’s new joint The Bad Testament. This is some good timing music, right here. At first, I thought homie went and got himself a band, but nope. Still just Scott. But, damn, I thought dude got some John Bonham beats happening, but it’s just a kick drum. Blame the bottle, dawgs.

There’s a good mix of some country bummers on here, which I like. I like my Scott H Biram like I like my Ben Nichols: all fucked up. But, the upbeat songs are rad, too. I mean, come on. Scott knows his ballpark. He ain’t gonna go all left turn on us. He knows how to play some bluesy country with the best of em’. He’s a good hermano.

The Bad Testament is classic Scott H Biram. No surprises, just some good ass country music. I’m on team Scott. This bottle has a real dent in it. Holy shit. Scott is cool. Listen to Scott H Biram. Do it for America. Scott H Biram might be the only person who can save us at this point. A little bit of the bottle, a little smoke, and some other cool lyric. Yay for Ghost Tequila. Yay Scott H. Biram.


The Bad Testament is out tomorrow and you can find it on the Bloodshot site, iTunes, etc.

Photo by Christopher Cardoza
Some bio:
With the heart of a genuine Texas bluesman, the head (banging) of a Zappa and Lemmy disciple, and boots resting in the dust outside of town at sunrise, Scott H. Biram journeys through the harrowing human condition like no one else. A walk on the Biram side straddles the chasm between sin and redemption and The Bad Testament lands somewhere west of the Old Testament and south of an AA handbook. It’s a record of hard-grinding lost love, blues and deep, dark Americana.

Scott H. Biram conjured the words and music for The Bad Testament during mad alchemical sessions at his homemade studio in Austin, TX.  Through stacks of amps, spools of cable, and a prodigious collection of microphones, he spread his technical wings wide, while never losing the immediacy honed from a life on the road. He added a drum kit and rustic vocal duet to his skill set (which already includes all guitars, bass, keyboards, vocals, and percussion on the album). And strip away the one-man band eccentricity, SHB is out-writing any meeting taker on Music Row. The man writes on a razor’s edge of aggression and deftness, thoroughly contemporary but steeped in the backwaters, back porches and back alleys of our collective musical heritage.

Jan 6, 2017

Drunken Review: The Band of Heathens - Duende

I Wanna Take The Band of Heathens to Prom

(spicy language ahead)
By Robert Dean

Ladies and gentlemen, chirren, and babies, in-betweens, grown folks, fuck ups, tweakers, booze hounds, smokers, tokers, midnight jokers, weirdos, dweebs, sluts, dorks, nerds, rad dudes, sick chicks, hillbillies, city slickers, burnouts, jerkoffs, and just plain ol’ cool motherfuckers – Band of Heathens has a new record out next Friday, and it’s like a goddamn ray of sunshine.

That’s right, you bearded weirdos, we’re doing the drunk review thing again. And this week is brought to you by Two Buck Chuck at Trader Joe’s cuz my wife buys it by the case, and I’m already a bottle of red in. So, let’s get talking about these here Heathens. (My breath smells like your high school best friend’s hot mom. You know who I’m talking about. You didn’t know then, but you know now what was up.)

Hailing from my current locale of Austin, TX – The Band of Heathens got themselves a new record out, it’s called Duende, whatever the fuck that means. I had to Google it, and I think I heard them say something about awesome shit being one with the universe and all of the feels. Cool. I like it when the universe doesn’t screw you. So, good on ya, Heathens.

But, about this record. This shit smokes, dawgs. I may have consumed a whole lot of alcoholic drinks before this here engagement, but I can tell you, Duende ain’t “no mouse music” as the dude from Arhoolie Records likes to say. Instead, the record sounds like if every awesome dude you knew with killer taste in records was like, “fuck it man, let's start a band.” And that band ruled. Duende features the best parts of acts like JD McPherson, Black Keys, and the Beach Boys (it’s those huge harmonies). There’s even shades of My Morning Jacket and Neil Young, The Band (Songs from the Big Pink, anyone?) as well.

Sugar Queen is a super funky groover that just sounds like the south, man. These dudes totally sound like an Austin band. The groove, the playing is as tight as a duck fart, and it feels effortless. The vibe is transparent, and there’s no lame showboating with taking extended solos, which The Band of Heathens could be that band, but rather they’re focused on a hard as nails song.

I hate it when music journalists, or guys drunk, alone in their home office (me) use the word “textured” but, in this one, singular case, it’s got merit. The Band of Heathens managed to take a whole bunch of sounds, and layer them in this honky tonkin’ Beatles way that pays off. There’s so much going on existentially on this record, and I think that’s why I’m crushing on it. Maybe it’s the wine talking, but I’d take Duende to prom. I’d be a gentlemen. I’d buy it a beautiful flower, save my paychecks from Blockbuster video and do it big because Duende deserves it.

Bottle two is officially open. I’m going to be hungover as fuck tomorrow. Let’s cut to the chase: buy Duende. Go see The Band of Heathens on tour. I bet these songs crush live. Maybe, buy these guys some shots. Yeah. Shots.

RIP Princess Leia. I need to sleep. Band of Motherfucking Heathens, y’all – a band’s band that keeps the heart of rock and roll beating. Ok, I just quoted Huey Lewis in a run on sentence. Good night.


Duende is available for pre-order and will be released Friday, January 13.

Nov 1, 2016

Drunken Review: The Dexateens - Teenage Hallelujah

Review by Robert Dean

*drunkenness and profanity ahead*

Look, I know I’m late to the party on the new Dexateens record. Life happens. I slept on it, ok? My mistake, my bad, and my screw up. But, hey – who doesn’t like a month's late review?

Tonight, we’re hitting them White Russians. And maybe a few Miller Lites to get them out of my fridge. (Side note: Good Half and Half is crucial for a White Russian. That sweet cream is a must have. So much better than milk.)

Apologies aside, The Dexateens turn up the rock and roll, and kick it into straight-up overdrive, and give it fast and hard, kinda like a magnificent skin flick. The songs on Hallelujah are country as hell, but get lit, too. I wasn’t too familiar with The Dexateens, but after hearing them, I’d love to see them tour with Quiet Hollers or Lucero, that’d be a good damned damn tour.

Anyhow, back to this record. Hallelujah goes hard. These dudes play it filthy and you know what, I like this shit. This record sounds like some dudes blowing huge clouders in the back of a Grand Turino on some backroad in the middle of coal country. I bet the singer of this band sold speed to kids at his high school, cuz you don’t bring it like this unless you did some dirt once or twice. The Dexateens sound like beat up black Chuck Taylors – nice and comfortable and feels just right.

Seriously, though. I’m in love with the filthy guitar tones, the stories and the imagination intertwined in the songs. I’m binge-watching Justified right now, and I feel like a few of the scenes up coulda used this here song “Shake and Bake Astrovan” when referring to some sketchy-ass folks up in the hills.

Just popped open a beer. This is going well; I can see straight. But, I feel like a dumbass for not knowing about The Dexateens, this is my shit right here. I’m a sucker for songs about failing and doing it with a smoke in your mouth, and a finger pointed at the sky. Songs about binge drinking, meth, loner chicks with nothing to look forward to – these guys wrote a Bukowski novel, but set in the south.  Plus, The Dexateens are blasphemous, I love me some songs about calling church a bunch of bullshit. (I’m a heathen, come at me, bro.)

I think you should buy this record. It’s got some good moments, and you could do a lot worse than ripping some bong hits to The Dexateens. "Jimmy John’s" is an awesome song. It makes me wanna do bad shit.

I give this a four out of five stars. Good fuckin’ times. That groove is nasty, the songs are hot as fuck foot stompers, and they make me wanna drink (more) and smoke the kush while dancing alone in my garage. Ok, I’m gonna puke. Review over.


You can buy it here and here and probably some other places.

Oct 19, 2016

Drunken Album Review: The Sword - Low Country

A drunken review by Robert Dean
*Robert uses colorful and unedited language*

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. 


Low Country is available on iTunes, Amazon, etc.

Oct 10, 2016

Robert Dean (Drunkenly) Reviews Knocked Loose - Laugh Tracks


 A "Review" by Robert Dean
Here we go: Drunk review 
Why bother with sobriety at this point?
I’m hammered after a long night hanging out with my dad who drinks Jack Daniels like a madman. My mom went to bed hours ago.
Anyhow, back to the record:
We drank ¾ of a bottle of Jack Daniels – wait, nope. I don’t drink Jack. That was my dad. I just drank a lot of Lone Star and Jameson. A lot. Sorry, let’s do a fucking review:
Being from the middle of nowhere sure as hell didn’t screw up Kentucky’s Knocked Loose’s ability to write some seriously pissed off music. Their new record, Laugh Tracks is a showcase of all the songs, riffs and sounds that hardcore kids have wanted their favorite bands to drop. There’s some Turmoil, some Terror, some Comeback Kid and a lot of goddamn violence. As my Australian friends would say, “these cunts are fully sick.” (Side convo: go watch some YouTube videos about all the weird shit Aussies say. It’s incredibly odd and hilar.)
Oblivions Peak is all mad as fuck and foot stomp-y. I like that cuz, I’m hammered and want to throw my computer at my television and swing my arms like I’m in the middle of a circle pit. Only I can’t because I’m 35 with a gut, and that would wind me, and I’d need a nap or a blood transfusion following such strenuous activity.
My dad is into it. He got me into Black Sabbath, so he respects some hot riffs and Knocked Loose has got some motherfucking fingers on em.
Whoever the dude singing is, he’s got some serious pipes. Dude has a shriek instead of just a yell. On My Heroes, that shit is lit as af. Bass starts all wobbly and Machine Head-y, then it goes all HAAM with the Slayer riffage. I think he said something Satan, which always works for me. Remember when everyone was jocking NAILS? NAILS wrote some seriously sweet songs and were two or three minutes of straight killing. Knocked Loose is like that – they leave out all of the boring shit and keep it real with the stuff you can spin kick some dude in the neck to.
Everything on Laugh Tracks is a mosher or at least something you can’t listen to if need to keep your cool. Cuz, if you listen to this in a public place, you’re liable to hurt a bystander with some gorilla punches. Buy Knocked Loose’s Laugh Tracks. For real it’s everything you need to rip the head off your neighbor. We’re not responsible if you kill anyone in a badass kung fu fueled rage.
Ok. That’s enough. I’m seeing double, and my dad wants to tell me cool Harley stories and about the time he saw GG Allin.

Laugh Tracks is available on iTunes, Amazon, etc. 

*not edited, we don't edit Robert Dean


Related Posts with Thumbnails