The Rocketz - We Are...The Rocketz
'We're drinking at full throttle
'Til we can't see the label on the bottle' - Label On The Bottle
Tony Slash's Orange County rockers return with a second album here and kickstart some fun and games into the gamut of torpidly self-conscious psychobilly tales of zombies and gore with a heads down, hands up, feet splayed torrent of anthems of fun and odes to fucking up, that covers far more country and swinging ground than the oft-times all too literally psycho no-brain crews that should be cavorted back to their coffin and sealed up for good, or at least deposited in a South London borough like Croydon to meet some real psychotic creeps - or that Compton place for you cross-ponderosas. Yeah, there's mucho that Rvnd Horton Heat could lay claim to in his heavier rollin' times (Label On The Bottle was surely a country drunk classic when it was just mere sweat on a string in a rearsal room, Dig The Way I Roll and Razor Blades wiped up after) but his heat doesn't fuse him so much with L.A., or any, punk (Gettin My Kix recalls New Bomb Turks' Job, Loser chucks rocks at you from it's stinky li'l enclave like Zeke running outta crack), nor have the true tear-jerking reminisce on East L.A., forsaking that for knowing nudges n' winks. There's much heart here that recalls fellow Orange County country punkers Social Distortion though this is far more rockin' than Ness' punkier cohorts and a 'billyfried cover of Holiday In Cambodia mayn't be the most essential item in the world ever but is a justifiable presence cos it cooks said rice in about three seconds flat. As does pretty much all of this super slew of revelry. Go on, get 'em in.