Beasts of Bourbon
Sour Mash

THE REVIEW

After “The Axeman's Jazz,” their superlative debut, the Beasts of Bourbon return shabby, dusty, and drunk as always with this second album which, although inferior to the aforementioned, showcases a classiness and “enlightenment” that only a few bands are granted!

It's always the Blues taking the lead, distorted, mistreated, reduced to its bare bones, with a Perkins who, more than singing, accompanies it with a voice that is at times sepulchral and at other times annihilated by too much whiskey, cigarettes, and the dust of the Australian desert (a clear demonstration of which is the magnificent “These Are the Good Old Days”).

Sometimes minimal (“Hard Workin Drivin' Man”), sometimes rural and rotten like the slide that accompanies it (“The Hate Inside”), their Blues is a thinly veiled perverted and homicidal instinct that travels through the sandy lands separating Brisbane from Canberra!

Overall, the (anti)work in question is decidedly noisier and more embittered compared to the previous one, but the path taken is clearly outlined and clear (as much as it can be in the minds of alcoholics and pub smokers [not just cigarettes as the later “Thanks” shows] from the most unhealthy suburbs of Sydney!)

Lumping them together with folks like the Stones, Beefheart, Cramps, Iggy & the Stooges, and the Birthday Party might be excessive, but if we try (and not even too hard), perhaps we could understand that bands like Lubricated Goat owe something to this album (I refer in particular to tracks like the aforementioned “Hard Workin Drivin' Man” or “Playground”).

Ultimately, if you're in the mood for Rock & Roll (and I think you are), between one beer and another, well, maybe this is an album that could be right up your alley!

Lasciviously caustic!