My Left Boot - Season of the Time (Album)
I'm positive the lead singer of this Melbourne based 70's psychadelic/80's hard rock inspired band has no nipples. None at all. For the minute he first reached those near impossible high screams and squalls, I'm sure they just popped off like champagne corks, just from the shear pressure his body must have gone through in order to reach notes that most male singers would merely dream of, which is of course to say he joins the ranks of such nippleless alumni such as Robert Plant, Bon Scott, and Angry Anderson.
This five track e.p. bares all the resemblences of the 70's/80's inspired music that has been reheated in the musical microwave for quite a few years now, and in that way, fails to provide this humble, mentally challenged yet medicated reviewer with something fresh and nerve damagingly exciting. That's not to say it isn't exciting, it is, and if, as a listener, you are looking for something that isn't vastly different from other forms of sound waves, something you can spill your beer over while clutching your mates arm in arm screaming along to the stadium-like lyrics at the top of your lungs, then this may be for you. Just don't put an eye out when those God given strawberries 'n' creams come popping off your chest.
Now all that said, instrumentally, the playing is first rate, as tight as a monkey's sphincter, and the huge sound produced here will punch you in the face if you stand too close to the speakers. These guys can play up a storm, and the lead guitar wails and spews forth huge solos that will keep your head bangin' away for hours.
My impression is that lyrically, these guys aren't out to change the world, but rather, are in it to let off some steam and have some fun making music that you can dance and swill large amounts of booze to. I believe they succeed at this, in particular with the standout final track "Writer's Block"(my personal favourite), with the humourous chrous ,"You got writer's block, you got a small cock". Something you can chant over a Sunday roast with the family, really.
So when it's Friday, and you need a soundtrack to exhale away the week's mind numbingly, self harming tension to while giving the boss the preverbial forks, then this may be just what you're looking for. It's big, it's tough, and will make you wish you hadn't thrown away those fluffy dice.
