VULTURE WHALE s/t (Skybucket)

Rock music has a well-documented history of self-glorification, as any critic of rock n’ roll would tell you. From an objective standpoint, though, it’s not hard to see why. Unlike any other form of music in history, rock n’ roll is purely about the electricity of the moment; the high-octane voodoo child of country, folk music, gospel and the blues put through a high-voltage current, pumped up to ear-deafening and stadium-moving deliriousness.  I’m sorry; did I say something about an objective standpoint?

The sophomore effort by Vulture Whale, led by one Wes McDonald, is a good natured, stadium-sized chunk of crunchy blues-based rock, with generous helpings of punk fervor and indie quirkiness that’s underlined by a Southern soulfulness. Album opener Teedy is a thumping riff-driven melodic number that works its way to your head and feet by means of its infectious rhythm and simple melodies. Second track on the album is the interestingly titled Thought Eyes, a fresh and punchy piece of dynamite that really explodes into its own as it progresses in a midst of overdriven guitars and machine-gun drums. 

The album continues in similar vein until the quiet-starting Sugar, which kick starts into lyrical guitar play and addictive, headboppable rhythms with one of the best lines on the album: “Sugar, you’re not the devil, really nothing of the kind, but you’re something, of a fucker of the mind.” Tote It To Cleveland, AL, is a sonorous, ringing number that deftly combines hard-rock vocals with inter-weaving guitar riffs. McDonald drops the straining, impassioned approach on The Waves, favoring a calm, soft-sounding style that works magnificently, juxtaposed against one of the hardest pieces of guitar-work on the album.  

Vulture Whale have perfected a formula here of quirky lyrics matched by a punk rock energy on top of the easy melodic, rockabilly hooks. Buy this album, draw the curtains, lock the doors, and air-guitar away as you bounce on your bed.