Good southern-tinged rock, anthemic and singalong. Nothing ground-breaking, but top-notch songwriting and production.
Someone threw a key party for a bunch of musical genres, and Americana, Rock, and Punk left together. On the dashboard radio on the way to the motel, the Old 97’s were playing.
A fluid mixture of influences and identity, with tropical flavors and delicate pop sensibilities layering up with street-tough attitude for some songs, like a leather-jacketed hoodlum holding a bouquet of roses.
Glaspy’s voice is a broad crooked smile, unique in its shape and well-suited for this particular set of laconic jangle.