Salty Dog
Every Dog Has Its Day

THE REVIEW

Don’t ask me from which narrow crevice of my damaged brain these four long-haired yokels have re-emerged, whose only thus only album was published in the now distant 1990, because I have no idea.

I vaguely seem to remember that the vinyl of this “Ogni Cane Ha Il Suo Giorno” back in the day used to spin frequently on the excellent Technics SL1200, although physiologically, after some compulsive listens mixed with some radio play, it was appropriately shelved thus forever excerpted from my already meager existence.

Today, holy moly, I can’t get rid of it anymore! It’s been in heavy rotation for a week, and I can’t pry it off the player even with Duck WC (which thanks to its upward-curved hook should have solved every problem).

Just to give you some coordinates: they take inspiration from Procol Harum (Salty Dog), cover Willie Dixon ("Spoonful", not banana-peels), they drink from the incorruptible source of Blue Cheer, ZetaZetaTopo, and Eisi/Disi, soaking everything with hefty shovelfuls of Lezzeppelin, reinterpreting - so to speak - the whole thing in a late eighties hardrocknroll style.

Now with these premises, someone might argue that I have, definitively, fried my brain: it's true. And not just from today.

Should you ever look for this genuine relic obscured by space-time, know that inside you will find a scorching rough’n’roll mixed with searing hard-blues where the incendiary guitar hero literally sparks: just listen to "Come Along," the opening track (the last minute is enough), to realize that, yes, indeed I’m definitely fried.