When most people think of Florida, they envision sunny beaches of surf and sand, or Disney World, or the golden land of retirement – a perfect, serene paradise. But not all of Florida is bikini-clad babes and Mickey Mouse. Way down south is a seedy, murky swampland known as the Everglades, and it is as dark, dank and evil as anywhere.
From the mud of these sawgrass marshes comes Florida’s best kept secret, Confused Little Girl. The Orlando foursome have cut three records since their debut in 2005, and have toured endlessly in support of such heavyweights as Alabama Thunderpussy, Artemus Pyledriver and Abdullah. Their latest release, Southern Gentlemen was released back in January, but due to new recruitment to Rotten Records‘ label, is currently out of print. But don’t worry, hellions – the album will be re-released under the new label in early September. Until then, you’ll have to rely on this little article to satisfy you while we wait for this monster to hit the shelves in the fall.
Helmed by vocalist/guitarist Billy Myers, the band has taken an interesting approach to their line-up. If you can come to practice and jam, and are free to go on extended tours (the band is currently embarking in a 200-plus date jaunt), you’re part of the band. Can’t make the tour or the recording sessions? No hard feelings. Next man in. The current lineup, which may or not be accurate, has Myers teaming up with Josh Henry on drums, David Washburn on guitars and the mononymously-named Red on bass.
What you’re getting with this album is a sharp-toothed grin of the dirtiest, deepest-fried rock this side of Crowbar. The recipe is tried and true, and if you’re thinking whiskey-soaked vocals, snakebite guitars and driving percussion, you just nailed the gator right on the nose. The song titles make no sense, and aren’t even mentioned within the lyrics. They are the type of nonsense that you can’t remember drunk, or even associate with the music. But it matters little. You can call a werewolf a bunny rabbit, a bird’s nest or even a pickle – the fact remains that it is still a werewolf…
The music itself is heavy, groovy and thunderous. It hits like a sawed-off shotgun to the gut, and pounds away at sledgehammer pace. There is nothing too neck-breaking here, but the energy will remind you of Pantera or Mastodon from time to time. It’s called sludge metal for a reason, though, and most of the time the album paces itself to a slower, more blues-influenced beat. The vocals growl along, but you understand every beer-swilling word. The drums hammer away laboriously, and the guitars are intent. They don’t throw a bunch of solos or other nonsense at you, but they capture your attention with a stranglehold that leaves you gasping for air. The bass was over the top on this album, and it cuts slow deep wounds throughout. Imagine being chased by a serial killer through a pool of quicksand. Wearing socks made of tar.
Undoubtedly, Southern Gentlemen will attract the attention this band is long overdue. The album is well-written, well-performed, and well-produced. As an unheard of band at the time of this post, they may need a little help along the way to gain full exposure, but someone will pick these guys up for a supporting slot on a major tour (are you reading this, Zakk Wylde?) and tune the rest of the world in on what southern Florida already knows.
Some secrets are just too juicy to keep quiet…
7.5/10
Tracklist:
01 I’d Rather Booby Screw a Walrus
02 Jeebus Ate My Matchbox
03 Have Another Popover, Froggy
04 Ink to Paper
05 Hookers on Horseback
06 Honestly, Who Gives Their Genitals Pet Names?
07 We Got a Great Big Convoy
08 Books and Guns
09 (Hey Dad) Stop Looking At Porn On My Computer
10 Vegetarian Homeless People
11 Jordan Catalano Needs to Break Up His Shitty Band
12 How Satan Stole My Heart
MySpace: Link | Official Band Site: Link
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