West Hollywood Troubadour

Some bands just deserve to have an exclamation mark after their name.

Some bands just deserve to have an exclamation mark after their name. Hot Snakes come onstage and play like the proverbial bat outta hell. Thirty-eight minutes. NO pop songs. NO singalong choruses. NO guitar solos. There is no fat here, no excess.

There is, however, sweat. Buckets of it. But anyone who saw the incendiary charge of Drive Like Jehu back in the day would know what to expect. For Hot Snakes have reunited Jehu's Rick Froberg and John 'Speedo' Reis from their respective day jobs (in Pitchfork and Rocket From The Crypt respectively).

Singer Rick Froberg is as passionate as they come, rasping and screaming the vocals. And as for Reis, well, you can see that playing live is in his blood. He steps onstage and the buzz is evident - like a shark that dies if it stops swimming, you know that Reis would keel over if he had to stop playing music. Hot Snakes may be less glamorous than RFTC, but that's more than made up for in the vigour with which they launch into the songs.

The guitars in 'My Memory' are like arcwelders, spraying dissonant chords across the room, while the drums in 'Salton City' are positively tribal. There's even time for an excellent new song called 'Lurkers Lurkers Go!'.

Basically, it can all be summed up in one simple phrase: they rock. Need we say more?

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