Every band should get to have their AC/DC moment. The Cult did it better than most, certainly better than Accept did it, Rose Tattoo did it in it’s native accent and Humble Pie seemed to do it through the use of time travel. Gold Phoenix has always wandered pretty parallel sonic paths but here they strip it down to its bare essentials, lead with a gloriously dumb riff…and I mean that as a compliment, four-four beats with just the right amount of swing and a large dash of innuendo. Sometimes that is pretty much all rock and roll needs to be about.
And if the template is familiar and rock and roll this straight-forward can’t really be about bringing much new to the table, Surrey’s finest (that’s the Jam fans pissed off then) use their inherent swagger and attitude to make up for it and then some. It grooves and grates, blisters and boogies, it snaps, crackles and rocks and somewhere high above the ghost of Bon Scott is looking down and saying something profound like….strewth baby, that rocks like a beast!
