Tiger Fang
Sound VS Silence Records
Street: 03.07
Tiger Fang = Mötley Crüe + balls + Velvet Revolver + barbed wire

This album is what it sounds like to pound a 12-pack of Pabst by yourself, jump around on your bed shredding on air guitar until you get sick and puke into a pile of week-old laundry, and knock over your foot-tall bong because you were too busy headbanging to pay attention to anything but the music. I love the sound of the vocals—they’re less like screaming and more like the dude is straining to pull his voice from the depths of the cheese grater that has replaced his throat. They’re crazy, neo-dirtbag rock, adding much-needed edge and emotion to a familiar but typically uninspired genre, making me actually give a shit about the party to which I’ve been invited. I can get four songs into this album before I even realize that time has passed, riding the dirty, groove-laden riffs and thumping drums like a GTO with no brakes down a dark highway. Call in to work tomorrow, get way too stoned, and fucking rock with Endangered. –Megan Kennedy