By The Longshots
Recent experiments under test conditions have concluded that listening to this album whilst driving increases your chances of picking up a speeding ticket by a WHOPPING 37%.
Ok, so by 'under test conditions' I mean 'in a Corsa, driving to the local supermarket for a bottle of milk' - not exactly a romanticised rock'n'roll vision is it? But whilst The Longshots' new mini LP was blaring from the car stereo, it provided that '100mph police chase with the wind in your hair and a beer in your hand' adrenalin kick that all good time rock'n'roll should do. Not that I've ever done that... but whatever... you get the picture.
At only 17 minutes, 'What Doesn't Kill Us' tears along with the kind of punk-rock ferocity championed by The Sound Explosion whilst following the ever-so-slightly clichéd blueprint of booze, birds and brawlin' laid down by the great granddaddy of 'em all, AC/DC.
'In Denial' kickstarts this rabble-rousing affair with a great live feel, pounding drums and a ripping solo which instantly grabs the attention. It's all over in under three minutes and leaves you gagging for more.
'She Drives Me wild' keeps the momentum going, complete with JohnnyBGood style guitar and a shoutalong chorus. It's another slab of balls-out rock but doesn't quite have the same sense of urgency as the opening track. It does, however, carry the line 'She's mine, she's my infection' so we'll let them off.
'Turn It Up' adds welcome variety with a Greenday-esque bassline and serious strumming driving things on, whilst 'I'm Bowling For You' marks a return to the straight ahead rock of the first two tracks. It's another prime cut of beefy rock'n'roll but by this point it begins to grate a little, highlighting both the strengths and limitations of the Longshots' sound- too much of a good thing...
Thankfully, like 'Turn It Up', 'Not My Time' saves them from over-egging the rock'n'roll pudding. The defiant, venomous lyrics prove that The Longshots don't really give a shit what you think, they know what they want and they're gonna carry on regardless.
'End of the Line' draws things to a close and as the shouts of 'you gotta go' ring out, the band signs off with a final, satisfying blast of high-octane riffage. This CD doesn't provide anything new or groundbreaking, but then again it isn't meant to and it doesn't need to. Instead it reminds us that oldschool rock is alive and well and ready to blow your balls off on the live stage.