“Riding high and aiming low. It ain’t our first rodeo.”
That is the first line on “We Go Down In Flames”, and if you close your eyes for just a little bit, you can almost imagine you have got a new Motörhead record in your hands.
In truth, The Carburetors are everything you think a Scandinavian rock’n’roll band with that name are going to sound like. Greasy, denim-clad and wholly marvellous. They do not so much play these songs as fire them out of the nearest exhaust pipe.
There is a line on “Let You Down” that goes: “I will never change my ways,” and you had best believe this stuff is unapologetic. There is no reinvention here, no sudden lurch into tastefulness, no attempt to sound like anything other than five blokes who know exactly what they want to do and are going to do it at maximum volume whether you like it or not.
You probably will.
There is an exultant cry at the start of “I Wanna Rock N Roll”, and that is basically the whole manifesto. They just love what they do. The solo alone is nasty enough to scare the neighbours, and “Rock N Roll Never Dies” is a boogie you will not escape from. Volbeat fill arenas with this stuff, and you can hear why.
“Shot At Dawn” loads up its six-string guns and trains them on some “liar”. Presumably someone dissed rock’n’roll. Still, it is useful to know not to get on the wrong side of The Carburetors. They sound like the sort of band who might settle disputes with volume.
“You Need It Loud” — and if ever there was a record that needed turning up to 11, it is this one — channels its inner Danko Jones. It also offers: “Tonight we’re gonna dance like we’re Mexico.” No, me neither, but honestly, who cares when it sounds this much fun?
Every November, my brother and I used to go and watch Lemmy and the boys, so “Electric Shock” sounds familiar. You would imagine it is meant to. There is no shame in that. In fact, there is a fair bit of glory.
There is a little more melody about “Sharpen The Blades”, but only a little, and just in case anyone had missed the point, the whole thing closes with a simple request: “Who Likes To Boogie”. For three minutes and sixteen seconds, Chuck Berry is back, baby. With his new one, “Johnny B Badde”, or something.
It is said of disco that it was a collection of dance songs about dancing. There is a bit of that here. Thirty-two minutes of rock’n’roll about rock’n’roll. Nothing more. Nothing less. Nothing remotely apologetic.
“We Ride At Night” is as revved up as it is fun, and The Carburetors sound like they would not have it any other way.
Rating: 9/10
