“Fire Me Up” begins with a stomp and a voice that sounds as though it was raised on dirt roads before heading for the neon lights.
Except Wood Burnt Red are British. Yes, really.
Tom Franklin has the perfect country-rock voice for this sort of thing: weathered, confident and capable of making every line sound like a promise. Around him, the band deal in arena-sized guitars without ever losing the grit underneath.
And let’s not start with that “too rock for country, too country for rock” cliché, for goodness’ sake. Wood Burnt Red simply understand that the best music has never been interested in staying inside carefully marked boundaries.
What matters is the chorus, and “Fire Me Up” has one to die for. This is an anthem, built to be shouted back from packed rooms and festival fields.
“You can take it to the bank,” sings Franklin. Don’t doubt him.
There is even a little ZZ Top nod towards the end, the sort of filthy flourish that suggests the Reverend would approve.
Three minutes and 30 seconds. That is all Wood Burnt Red need to make their statement.
“Fire Me Up” says they are ready. Ten years from now, you will probably be claiming you always loved them.
You might as well start now.
