Debut CD whips up a witches brew of hillbilly hellfire and blues brimstone full of the locomotive rhythms of traditional bluegrass, the intensity of Mississippi roadhouse blues, and the full-on sonic assault of Slayer.
Biram's blend of punk, delta blues, and hillbilly throws down the boogie gauntlet and sends a feral bolt of brimstone south of your studded leather belt.
This is gospel for the 13th circle, and he's singing it like his feet are already halfway in the fires.
On this album, TMP has distilled their attack down to the essentials: three parts liquid nitro, three parts stare-into-the-bottom-of-the-glass heartbreak, and four parts Let's Take It Outside, Short Pants.
Using all the tools they had handy—mandolins, fiddles, crack songwriting and a baaad-ass singer—they created a record that pays due reverence to the giants of bluegrass like Ralph Stanley, RATT and ABBA.
Recreates those magical Saturday nights in the Old Hayloft when Chicago, not Nashville, was the capital of Hillbilly Music. A record as warm and crackly as that old tube radio in the attic.