Armed only with a guitar, a high-hat, a bass drum, and a bunch of kick-ass tunes, Bloodshot Bill delivers a primal, visceral strain of rock ’n’ roll. Imagine the White Stripes as a one-man band with the absurdist humor of Wesley Willis—if that image doesn’t strike sweet, sweet terror in your heart, you might not have one. But don’t be fooled by the stark-raving mad stage banter and the guttural grunts that punctuate the verses in his songs: this isn’t parody or pastiche. It’s serious rock ’n’ roll—rowdy, dirty, and a whole lot of fucking fun. In other words, it’s everything rock ’n’ roll should be.
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