It's hard to believe that it's been almost 20 years since the Rev. Horton Heat released his first album... and he hasn't changed a bit. Of course, the whole point of psychobilly is an unabashed dedication to purity of sonic identity (that and getting just fucked up enough to let your inner redneck show off its less-than-desirable personality traits). Though the right reverend is headlining this show, the rest of the bands on the bill are no less catholic in their approach. Nashville Pussy has been playing the same demented and sleazy Skynyrd-meets-Motörhead rock for more than a decade. And what of Hank III? Isn't he supposed to be the crazy, diverse one? Well, not exactly. The grandson of Hank Williams lends his Christian name to his psychobilly twang and his country two-step, but he typically doesn't play them in the same set. When he wants to do something else altogether? Say a punk/metal set? Well, he just joins another band or calls his own band Assjack. So, yeah, the first song may be a surprise, but after that, you know what's coming. For the most part, all of the bands here deliver shit-kicking sets. After all, each of them has staked out a unique slice of the hellbilly pie for themselves (in Hank III's case, he's taken a few slices), and what they do, they do loud and powerfully. Which, really, is exactly what bands of this calibre should be doing.
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