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ASTEROID B-612
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The Asteroids trademark supersonic flamejobs are tempered here, matured, even. Much like late-period Beasts of Bourbon, they lace the murder city scorch with drawling honky-tonkisms, crunchy blues-punk, Spacemen 3-style hypno-rock, and even a couple stabs at brightly colored power-pop. Apparently, all the songs are about breaking up with some chick, but I get so tangled up in the gun-slinging Keef riffs I don’t even notice what the words are. It’s that kinda album, see, the kind where you play it for somebody and go, “Wait, here comes the best part….now!” and then the sweet fuckin’ solo kicks in. I’m amazed that this almost got shelved, because it’s an awesome slab of real, authentic rock n’ roll, fulla sweat, tears, blood, and a whole lotta swaggering guitar. Befitting their name, it’s a real blast. Off. ________________________________________________________ |
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-Sleazegrinder |