The low end pulls from a background in
Motown and early sabbath, while the rhythm
guitar pushes on with wild eyed abandon.
All the while the percussion is hammering along
with a heavy hand that you can't help but stomp your feet
to. Lyrics are thrown out like a carnival barker. The staccato
vocal attack is offset with a pure tenor harmony. This roar is
accented by more percussion being laid down on a skeleton of
brake drums, suspension springs, duct work and corrugated
sheet metal. It all culminates in a sound that's greater than its
parts. So big and gritty that you can't help but get sucked into the
stories they're telling, and believe that they might just be true.

The music has a way of boring into your head like a drill press. You'll catch yourself humming an unfamiliar tune days after listening. Once you realize where it's from, you'll find yourself a full blown convert to the gospel of Cletus, standing on a street corner in a sandwich board and raving....best of luck to you.