This gem flushes garage rock back down the seedy scumhole of its origin. Twelve songs of relentless filth shot through a tube of such pungency, you’ll need to jet your ears with saltwater thereafter. “Crawlin” is equal parts Nashville Pussy, Boss Hog, and Homostupids, crooned with gall too malevolent to be wished upon your enemy. The second cut is no sleeper either, opening with poetic atrocities like, “I went out last Saturday night / Felt like a fish about to get fried,” and, “If I wasn’t a gamblin’ man / I’d live in a garbage can.” If you’re not sold upon making it through the slow gunk of “Black Astrologers,” then “Get Away” is your cut off point. It’s a head-nodder to crack a beer to while behind the wheel simply because you want hear it CRUNCH thirty seconds later. Anyone not succumbing to the energy of this one, well, we’re unsure how you stumbled upon True Sons of Thunder in the first place. Go back to church 

The first time we heard True Sons’ intro to wax on the splitside of Wizzard Sleeve’s “Setting Fire to Your Loft,” Swami Visions experienced a rude awakening. A misanthropic mess of feedback, smudged in Gibby Haynes’ runoff like brain on a windshield, we half-listened to it once. Funny. Now we think it ranks among the top on this LP. Earlier output, entitled “Butt Bong,” concretes the theory that True Sons is out to destroy your mind and morals one brain cell and note at a time. Don’t believe us? ‘Let’s go toe to toe…’

(Oh yeah—Eric Oblivian is in the band too, along with a member of Sharp Balloons and a bunch of other Memphis miscreants we probably should know of.)—SWAMI VISIONS