Portland
power-trio with one of the most humble hype-sheets I've ever read. Who
actually admits to soft bellies and thinning hair when they're trying to
push a CD? They must be pretty confident in their ability to rock. Named
after a local wrestling hero, Dutch Savage offer up a collection of
stripped-down rock n' roll tunes with staccato post-punk guitars and
prime, heavy-ass northwest groove. Big ol' ballbusters like "Broken
Bottles" and the crunching "Joe's Riff" wrap Barry's
fluid guitar around the jackhammer rhythm section like a fist in barbed
wire. A groovy fist. They're sorta like the Wipers, and sorta like Husker
Du, if either of those bands knew how to chop down trees with axes or kill
bears with axes. Something with axes. Good shit, and further proof that
even if grunge didn't happen, all those bands would sound pretty fucking
grungy anyway.
________________________________________________________
Portland
power-trio with one of the most humble hype-sheets I've ever read. Who
actually admits to soft bellies and thinning hair when they're trying to
push a CD? They must be pretty confident in their ability to rock. Named
after a local wrestling hero, Dutch Savage offer up a collection of
stripped-down rock n' roll tunes with staccato post-punk guitars and
prime, heavy-ass northwest groove. Big ol' ballbusters like "Broken
Bottles" and the crunching "Joe's Riff" wrap Barry's
fluid guitar around the jackhammer rhythm section like a fist in barbed
wire. A groovy fist. They're sorta like the Wipers, and sorta like Husker
Du, if either of those bands knew how to chop down trees with axes or kill
bears with axes. Something with axes. Good shit, and further proof that
even if grunge didn't happen, all those bands would sound pretty fucking
grungy anyway.