More marvelous maverick mayhem straight from the Voodoo Rhythm hotplate from one-time Revelator Mr. Schooley, yup playing everything his goddammned self, yet making more noise than a whole herd of avalanches (such things do exist, please believe me and read the fuck on). Huge, gargantuan distorted slabs of destruction rain down on and all around you like the end of days in Revelations, dissolving right before your very eyes. Beware of what you pray for - it might just burn your ass, the cheeky little fucker. A mixture of self-composed and old classic songs that are dragged kicking and screaming into the order of things whether they like it or not this is a ferocious, frenzied assault on your senses. Like a Pit Bull let loose n leaping at you...only if that were fun. Some would say totally over the top (yeah, they fucking would, wouldn't they?) and it may well be, but that's a good state of being I'll toast to that and drop my hat. 'Black Diamond Express Train To Hell' gets things moving with a lugubrious country blues over a preacher type sermon, an eerie melody like The Stones 'No Expectations', that could be heralding the rise of some seven-stomached space creature from a sizzling swamp in an old B-movie. And it's hungry too. Now you're lured in there ain't no messing about. Like a seven-headed fox let loose in the chicken coop. Instant cream curdling, an almost literal evil primordial stew, like gnawing on a rock of parmesan and enjoying it every time you chip a tooth...Fat, squelchy guitar parts that ooze steam from the depths of the earth 'pon which this venemous, volcanic eruption sits, hurling colossal Krakatoan larva explosions and pelting us with pumice in the form of scabrous slide and hellhound harp. Sizzling rump steak size songs like 'Chicago Breakdown' and 'Factory Dog' are marinated in dirt, but end up dripping pure 100% beef anyway before taking a walk in the park and chewing your neighbour's legs. Like a scientists experiment in some old sci-fi B-movie this keeps boiling, boiling, boiling till bllliirgnnnnggg everything explodes and as the ash descends we're escorted outta there on the 'Black Diamond Express Train To Hell Part two'. Hardly believable that it's all the work of one crazy bad ass Texan but sho' nuff n' yeah it is you're taken on one mean carousel ride, the tension getting higher n' higher so that by side two (Voodoo Rhythm splendidly split their records into two sides like a vinyl) the covers of R'n'B classics 'Honest I Do', 'Tiger Man' and 'Killin' Floor' are as down and dirty, salty and sweaty as you're gonna ever get yet still retain the spirits of their original incarnations. And that's a testament to this guy.

This ain't no novelty one man band thing either like Bob Log this is show stopping stunning soul spinning atomic blues showers for our last summers and a true maverick, idiosyncratic talent. A pure bred hellfire breathing legendary shack shaker, if ever there was one!
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-Stu Gibson