Electric Waco Chair

From the front man of The Supersuckers, a genre-scoffing dose of snarling country rock, full of pop hooks and wiseguy humor delivered with a brain, a heart, & a beer. Embraces the guilty and not-so-guilty pleasures of classic rock, hooky-as-hell Texas roadhouse, and the always lurking- on-the-corner-barstool dirty joking of classic Spaghetti.

Powerful and moving material, heartbreaking and hilarious, downtrodden and uplifting, suffused with longing, alienation, resilience and hop. Humor, resignation and outrage stalk a superficially familiar musical landscape that’s been re-populated with stockmen, bandicoots, wallabies, porcupines, grog-drinkers, pelicans and policemen.

A rowdy collection of music that exists between the clearly defined genres, nestled in the dark, nebulous cracks where punk and country and soul and pop and bluegrass and rock mix and mingle and mutate.

Few have been better over the past 30 years at crafting truly irresistible hooks than GP and this album has more good ones than a Sugar Ray Leonard fight. His pen is as sharp as ever, as is his effortless coupling of punk’s energy and American R&B and soul’s swagger.

Takes the punk chutzpah of Langford and meshes it with the garage savvy of the Sadies, busting out 12 tracks to rattle the cage of genre purists. Bawdy, exuberant and, at times, full of surprising pop smarts.

The All-star cast consign songs of murder, mob law, and cruel, cruel punishment to the realm of myth, memory and history. Eighteen songs that are as old as the hills (though some were written last week) about America’s grim fascination with the savage cycle of crime and vengeance.

Using the songs of the late Doug Sahm—the Cosmic Cowboy--the Rockets raise their own bad-ass freak flag and kick out the grooves

A band that knows what it means to boogie. A band that you can tell likes to drink beer. A band that's going to sound good coming out of the tape player in my car. A band that plays rock music so good that if there were more of them we wouldn't need classic rock stations, we'd just call 'em rock stations.

Alejandro and his "classical glam" Orchestra at their finest: off the cuff, loose and tight.

Rico & The Snakehandlers kick out these stories with all the grace and subtlety of the Pogues riding horses into a funeral parlor.