Chillihounds
Shake your skull
Transubstans Records

One huge pet peeve I've had for years is bad band fonts. You'd think we've passed the era when people realised that distorted grunge fonts, or using the airbrush on photoshop to fuck up your logo looks god-fucking-awful. To top it off, bands pair it with a pixelated rock icon, skulls or flames or whatnot. Done in the right way, it's not bad, but more often then not, it reveals a band's minimal sense of creativity -- like they're just as maladjusted as the next office cretin when it comes to determining a "rock-look". Now that I've got that outta my system, onto the next order of business: what the fuck is wrong with this band's name? If they're attempting to use the word, "chilli" to suggest "hot, fiery, red" or whatever stereotypical rock-associated adjectives that went through their beer-fizzled brains, coupled with "hounds" it makes absolutely no sense. They might as well be thinking "Chillidogs".

I envision only two scenarios in which I'd affirm this band; a) if I were sitting in some backyard blues bar in the middle of Memphis -- wait-a-minnit, I forget that'd be demographically impossible seeing as these guys sing as white as turkeys -- ok, ok so in the middle of bumfuck Texas, and I was really, REALLY drunk on Bourbon and on a date with a super hot cowboy. If Chillihounds were the house band, I probably wouldn't mind. The second would be if Kenny Powers were their frontman, and they dressed like Hedwig and the Angry Inch.

Unfortunately there's zero irony and zero invention. It's winter up in those northern parts, and picturing a surplus of dudes jamming and "kicking ass" kinda makes me wanna cry. It's as if they've lifted as many AC/DC, Kiss or Thin Lizzy riffs as possible and plastered it with your typical slick-back testosterone-fueled Swedishness. Even their song titles bleed of unoriginality. As much as I hate standing in the way of good ol' fashioned fun and laudable classic rock-throwbacks (AC/DC cover band Big Balls for example, rules) -- their sound emanates of beer bongs, ordering cowboy hats on eBay and fucking young girls that've stepped outta Paradise Hotel. Just as I think I might tip over in the way of nodding to a song, tracks like, "Back in the game" make me wallow in misery. I read somewhere that they're attempting to be "classic rock for a new generation." Please. It's harry as hell.
- Ann Sung-an Lee