It's difficult to believe it's been almost 20 years since the Reverend Horton Heat released his first album — and he hasn't changed a bit. Of course, the whole point of psychobilly is an unabashed dedication to purity of sonic identity. (That, and getting just fucked up enough to let your inner redneck show off its less-than-desirable personality traits.)
Though the right reverend is headlining this show, the rest of the bands on the bill are no less religious in their approach. Nashville Pussy has been playing the same demented and sleazy Skynyrd-meets-Motorhead rock for more than a decade. And what of Hank III? Isn't he supposed to be the crazy, diverse one? Well, not exactly. The grandson of Hank Williams lends his Christian name to psychobilly twang and country two-step, but he typically doesn't play them in the same set. What about when he wants to do something else altogether, say a punk/metal set? Well, he simply joins another band or calls his own band Assjack. So yeah, the first song might be a surprise, but after that, you know what's coming. For the most part, all of the bands here deliver shit-kicking sets. After all, each of them has staked out a unique slice of the hellbilly pie for himself (in Hank III's case, he has taken a few slices). And what they do, they do loudly and powerfully. Which, really, is exactly what bands of this caliber should be doing anyway.
