Something mighty dangerous has the good folks of Lexington, Kentucky up
in arms and running for the hills. Beware, the Hookers are on the loose
and raising Hell in the deep South! Of course we could've went with a
more inspired opening here, but somehow, after listening to the first few
tracks, it just fits.
"Equinox Beyond Tomorrow: Volume 1," -- oh no, they
mean to do another one of these -- is pure heavy Rock from what we've come
to expect of the Devil Doll label: nasty, mean and loud. I mean they
got these suckers turned up high enough to blow the roof off your head,
let alone the studio they produced it in!
I'm getting a wicked
combination of Motorhead meets Raging Slab with heavy hooks and grooves
that'd be enough to inspire the Devil himself to rise up to the surface
to hear what's going on.
"You Told a Lie," kinda yer basic you-lied-so-now-you're-gonna-pay
sort of retribution type of rant that starts things
off in a most abrupt fashion -- could well be the album's best.
"Horse Named
Misery," definitely ain't the same one that punk Bud bought. Clipped as
a "Godless creation forged in fire." well, to put it mildly, I ain't
getting within ten yards of the fucker!
By about halfway through I'm
now thoroughly convinced that Hookers -- don't quite know where the name
fits in with all this blood and guts content. and I think if we were to
add "The" in front of the name, we'd be thrown totally off
course -- they've got this cold chilling effect that just radiates from the
speakers with the intensity of a highly-amped guitar riffing that
recalls a near dead-ringer for the Entombed sound -- imagine such with a
slightly Southern drawl and a taste of the ol' bluegrass.
Now here on
song five "Outlaws Prayer," we've got this fascinating epic-style
journey taking place, some seven plus minutes in length, that begins
humbly enough before tearing into a slowly paced Manowar-like battle
hymn. The main difference? Here, as with the entire recording, the
guitars dominate throughout -- we faintly catch the singer doing his
damnedest to keep up but early on the poor bastard gets drowned out in a
sea of static and the drums, crushing as they are, sound muffled by
comparison!
This is Hard Rock the way it once was and the way it ought
to be again, rootsy, in yer face, loud and fast without all the useless
clichés. check these guys out and die smiling!