By Monk
Life is defined by it’s decisions, good, bad or indifferent. Well, while the band themselves may be declaring otherwise, following the career of this motley crüe of dirtbags (sic) from the dirty back alleys of Vancouver and listening to their heady brüe of seedy, sleazy rawk ‘n’f’n’ roll since they took me on a trip ‘Downtown Eastside’ back in 2017 is definitely one of the better ones I have made in recent years – and continue to make on the basis of this rambunctious slice of rowdiness.
Drawing deeper from the well of glamourized Euro power pop acts such as Backyard Babies, Turbonegro and Hanoi Rocks much more than their hair-sprayed LA Strip counterparts, Dirtbag Republic make no bones about what they do, and that is produce good old-fashioned, dance floor burning, good time bop ‘n’ stroll that will have your shaking your tailfeather ’til it falls off and the soles on your cowboy boots are worn through to the corn on your big toe.
Kickin’ off with the Ramones-meets-Stones stomp ‘n’ stroll of ‘I Don’t Care’, you definitely won’t want to ‘Wait A Minute’ to board this particular ‘Bipolar Rollercoaster’ for a thrill ride that delivers on every level of expectation, providing more exhilaration in its 35 minutes of joy than weeks at Alton Towers, Disneyland or Universal Studios could hope to deliver in their wildest dreams. And, hey, you don’t have to spend hours sweating in a never-ending queue, ‘cos this particular joyride is being delivered instantaneously and has the added attraction of not making you to want to barf your lunch all over the kids in front of you!
Delivered at a relentless pace – at least until the obligatory ballad that is ‘Smotherin Me’ – there is not a single bad decision in any of the 11 gruff ‘n’ ready tracks offered up on this long overdue fourth album by these rebellious rabble rousers. I always swore that if I ever won the lottery, I would emigrate to somewhere warm and sunny and open a bar on a secluded beach where I could blast dirty rock ‘n’ riffs all of the day and all of the night (sic) without fear of the noise police comin’ knockin’ at my back door… well, I think I’ll apply for a visa for permanent residency in the People’s Democratic Republic of The Dirtbags, ‘cos I think I’d slide right in and feel right at home… And I don’t think that would be a bad decision at all, do you?
- ‘Bad Decisions‘ is out now.
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