Antler
Steeped in classic rock heritage, their rustic eloquence is gleaned from oily rags and dented chrome; from empty bottles and dingy motel rooms. Their six-man roster and blue-collar soul are throwbacks to the nights when Skynyrd and the Allmans took over the Fillmore 'cause they needed the legroom, when Fogerty's giants still did cartwheels, and a killing moon hung low in the horizon.
The members of Antler possess both the road-warrior pedigree (3/4's of the mighty Roadsaw are in Antler) and sonic wherewithal of true rock champions-and, as such, deliver an album devoid of crass, retrograde romanticism. Dark lyricism, rough & tumble twin guitars, weeping organ riffs, and whiskey-throated vocals lock together like the callused fingers of a hangman's fist lowering the noose over the throat of the condemned. And you'll find no shortage...
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The members of Antler possess both the road-warrior pedigree (3/4's of the mighty Roadsaw are in Antler) and sonic wherewithal of true rock champions-and, as such, deliver an album devoid of crass, retrograde romanticism. Dark lyricism, rough & tumble twin guitars, weeping organ riffs, and whiskey-throated vocals lock together like the callused fingers of a hangman's fist lowering the noose over the throat of the condemned. And you'll find no shortage...
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