NASHVILLE PUSSY: From Hell To Texas (SPV)
By Fizz
Rating: 7.5
It’s been just about a decade since Nashville Pussy first roared onto the scene, playing the musical equivalent of a rat-rod, and now it’s time for album number five. The Pussy Posse has found a new home on their fifth record label, but managed to retain bassist Karen (Exley) Cuda, a.k.a. Number Four, a rare feat in the band’s history. So that means it’s time to head down to the liquor store, grab a case of the cheapest beer you can find, or maybe some whiskey if you can afford it … don’t forget your smokes! or have you got the “makings” back at the shack? … and prepare to enjoy the latest batch of southern-fried, artery-clogging, supercharged rock ‘n’ roll.
I’ve been a fan of Nashville Pussy ever since I first heard them, when a couple tunes from their meth-punk debut Let Them Eat Pussy were featured on a late-night metal show on the radio. The hell of it is, though, I can’t explain exactly WHY I like this band. The music is raw and basic. The lyrics generally deal with getting drunk/high, fucking and being broke, or any combination of the above. Blaine Cartwright isn’t much of a singer, and usually doesn’t pretend to be. In short, to describe the band honestly would turn off almost anybody, but somehow, I’ve always found Nashville Pussy’s music very fun and endearing, and just downright infectious. They’re pretty much everything a discriminating music lover should hate. Maybe THAT’S why I love them and their ilk. And maybe it’s why their fanbase includes a fair number of “hipsters,” i.e. people you can never be sure actually LIKE a thing, or are just being “ironic.”
Anyway, From Hell To Texas takes its title partly from its recording location, at Willie Nelson’s studio outside Austin. Maybe the ambiance of the place got to them, because they opt for a consciously stripped-down, “vintage” sound on this record. Hell, it sounds barely produced, and more like the band is playing loud and raw right in your living room, with the guitars right next to you on the couch, the bass-amp sitting on the coffee table, and the drums clattering away in the corner. I admit, on the first listen, I thought the production sounded like shit, particularly on the faster songs. But after a few listens and a beer or two, I began to see the subtle genius in it. It has that late-‘70’s sound to it, reminding me of the second album by The Godz. (All right, never mind.) Barely-produced or not, the sound goes a long way toward creating a particular mood, one of heat, inebriation, and a few lonely coins jingling in your pocket. Interspersed throughout the music are the various, mythical sounds we come to associate with the Lone Star State: shotguns, hoofbeats, rattlesnakes, bottles breaking, etc.
“Speed Machine” gets the party underway with a tinking cowbell, a trademark Nashville Pussy riff and a howl from Blaine, as he begs us all to hurry up, because “the world’s movin’ too damn slow!” He gets what he wants, as the title track picks the pace up, the band extolling their love of the touring life. The road tales continue on “Drunk Drivin’ Man.” Nashville Pussy have a long tradition of making light of decidedly un-PC topics, and this is no exception. After that comes possibly the catchiest song on the disc, the romping “Lazy Jesus,” with its chorus like some kind of sacrilegious playground chant. Blaine sneers at a shiftless, uncaring J.C., ordering him to “go over and fix that chair,” among other things. The song boasts a gleefully honky harmonica solo, and when the girls start singing along, you’ll want to, too.
Here’s where things start to get a little scattered. “I’m So High” boasts some boogie-woogie piano, a strong chorus, and the immortal line “I wanna get wasted in the stratosphere and take a shit on the moon.” But Blaine’s sounding not quite like himself on this song, to the point where I checked to see if somebody else weren’t doing a cameo. A decent song anyway, but after that comes a string of faster, punkier tunes that, as I mentioned, aren’t suited well to the retro production. “Late Great USA” is probably the best of this stretch of the record, and the best of the faster songs, putting me in mind of NP’s terrific sophomore album, 2000’s High As Hell.
Things get back on track for the last three songs. “Why, Why, Why” is a bouncy trailer-park tragicomedy about getting hopelessly hung up on a chick who really isn’t worth the trouble, and anyway, her uncle’s got dibs on her. Love that sarcastic sing-along chorus! “Give Me A Hit Before I Go” closes the disc out in what passes for midtempo fashion for Nashville Pussy, more reminiscent of 2002’s Say Somethin’ Nasty. But sandwiched between the two is one of the coolest tunes on the disc, namely “Stone Cold Down.” This song grooves and twangs along almost in ZZ Top territory, circa Tres Hombres, and that’s never a bad thing. The production that held back some other songs really works wonders on this track.
From Hell To Texas is not Nashville Pussy’s best work. In fact, I found it a bit of a disappointment at first, and still don’t really care for certain songs. But when they hit the mark, they hit it dead-center. The riffs are down and dirty and the guitar tone is super-twangy, with noticeably less distortion than on previous releases. In addition, they’ve probably got their best bass tone ever. The overall feel is like sitting in a cluttered trailer with no air-conditioning, in the middle of a heat wave, with only ice-cold beer to keep you cool.
At one point during the recording, guitarist Ruyter Suys described the sound they were going for as “the southern-rock album Alice Cooper never made.” I don’t know about that, exactly. Maybe it’s more like the Motorhead album ZZ Top never made. I’ve seen a few reviews that hail From Hell To Texas as the band’s best work to date, and although I don’t agree, there are enough highlights to make it worthwhile.
Best songs: “Speed Machine,” “Lazy Jesus,” “Stone Cold Down”
Worst song: “Pray For The Devil”
