Nashville Pussy - Pleased to Eat You (2018) [Hi-Res]

Go back in time (for some of us, anyway) to those halcyon days of musical magic, of arena rock concerts with clouds of pot smoke and beach balls filling the air, of festival seating wherein I had to battle claustrophobia and the crush of thousands of people behind me, pushing me and my friends against the glass walls of the arena, feeling the cold reality that I could well be trampled to death once they opened the doors. Yes, those heady days so brilliantly captured in Richard Linklater’s movie Dazed and Confused. That’s the fertile soil that bequeathed the world Nashville Pussy, and it’s one I’m surprised hasn’t yielded a greater crop. Sure, The Black Crowes were a popular act sprung from the same fields, but they died out like their heroes. Not so, Nashville Pussy, a band that has been churning out their particular brand of refried 70s for nigh on twenty years.

Nashville Pussy owe more than their brash name to Ted Nugent’s raunchy intro to one of his songs on his 1977 release Double Live Gonzo! This band gloriously and proudly embraces the mid-70s hard rock genre - the meaty riffs, the power chords, the male teen libidinous lyrics, and the relentless stoner bliss of hard rock and roll during its peak. As their press states, they’re like AC/DC with a female Angus. Indeed.

Singer Blain Cartwright, described as a “foul-mouthed, demented hillbilly ice-cream man,” snarls and squeals like Alice Cooper or a Bon-nier Scott and spouse/founding member/lead guitarist Ruyter Suys (“tractor-driving, nude art school model”) stuffs each song with plenty of the formula that made Nugent, Kiss, and the aforementioned Aussies successful. There’s little to no nuance. No ballads snuck in. No attempts at softening the sound for a larger, radio-friendly audience.

With song titled like the thundering opener “She Keeps Me Coming” (“She’s the best pussy he’s ever had”), the echoes of Alice Cooper on “Go Home and Die,” the southern rock riffs of “Low Down Dirty Pig,” (“I’m a broke-ass mother fucker, that’s for certain”), and “CCKMP,” which stands for “cocaine cannot kill my pain,” Nashville Pussy doesn’t mince words nor opt for subtly. The fact that drug abuse is the theme for more than a few songs makes me wonder if there’s a message or if these are simply slice-of-life lyrics from a band that promotes their party-hearty lifestyle like a badge of honor.

Were I in my teens, this album would get a lot more play time than it’s likely to at my current age. That’s not to say that it doesn’t deserve it, but rather that, as my days of cranking those former heroes of hard rock grow fewer in number with each passing year, so their prodigy fit in that same category. If, however, you have a need for speed and yearn to bang your head, you are definitely going to want to bring your appetite and join in on the eating frenzy.

In the end, like it or not, you have to respect the belief in their music to the exclusion of any outside influence. Nashville Pussy rely on that old 70s staple The Fan Base, realizing that keeping those folks happy is the buttered side of the bread. If staying true to their smallish base means relentless touring, modest album sales, and more notorious reputation than critical acclaim, then that’s just fine with them. Integrity defines this band. On the other hand, Pleased to Eat You is only their seventh studio album in nearly twenty years of existence, so maybe they realize what AC/DC never have; when you stay with what works, why keep re-writing the same song? Just hit the road, put on killer live shows, and leave the audience wanting more.