GREATEST HITS – Whiskey Daredevils (Drink and Drive)
When guitarist Bobby Latino tendered his resignation with long-standing Ohio shitkickers The Cowslingers, Leo P. Love (drums), Greg Miller (vocals), and Ken Miller (bass) decided to reload with guitarists Dave Bowling (ex-Hayshaker Jones) and Bobby Lanphier (ex-Crooked Mile) rather than end a 15-year rabble-rousing odyssey of merrymaking, hayseed hijinx, and a steady wage packet, figuring the twang thang would work better with 12 strings than with six.

And a wise decision it was, flirting with genius, resulting in the type of loose, boozy, occasionally absurd, guitar-driven collision of rock ‘n’ roll
and country most thought went tits up long about the time Buddy Blue left the Beat Farmers.

That the Whiskey Daredevils really aren’t as big balled or audacious as it would seem in calling their debut album “Greatest Hits” is evident not long after the laser beam starts tracking “AMC Hornet,” which chugs, sputters, and, ultimately, rocks like a motherscratcher, Greg Miller working himself up into a fine lather like a backwoods preacher swigging from a jar of arsenic and wrangling rattlesnakes, Bowling and Lanphier’s eyes rolling back and nostrils flaring like a couple of swayback broncs getting their first whiff of the glue factory.

“Mickey’s Bigmouth” celebrates the joys of the titular malt liquor (and a half oz. of herb!), Bowling and Lanphier spiraling further and further
downward into a vortex pegged with a “No Return” sign, Love and Ken Miller following right on their tails like lemmings full-pikeing into the abyss and Greg Miller standing back and urging them on while taking extra care not to spill a drop. Stay with me – I don’t get this excited too often.

Despite a tilt for baying at the moon about cars and cheap panther piss, the Whiskey Daredevils aren’t immune to relationship breakdowns or above
looking to a higher power for divine inspiration at the blackjack table, mood changing from lovelorn to pious with the results never once dipping
below devastating.

Hold your breath, make the sign of the cross, and offer up the souls of your family to the fallen angel in the hope that the Whiskey Daredevils aren’t lost in the landscape of reformed punks digging for roots and grazing the alt.country fields because with “Greatest Hits” they’ve not just captured lightning in a bottle, but the whole damn supercell.- Clark Paull



 

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