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Leadfoot | We Drink For Free | review | rock | Lollipop


We Drink For Free (Abstract Sounds)
by Brian Varney

Leadfoot have, in my mind, been lumped into the stoner crowd since I first heard about 'em, probably because their early stuff came out on The Music Cartel (home of Orange Goblin, Electric Wizard, Roachpowder, etc.), their connection to big-in-stoner-circles swamp-metal kings COC (a couple of them were in the Blind incarnation) and their appearance on seminal stoner comp In the Groove. However, a listen with fresh ears reveals a band with very little in common with any of their former label or comp mates, their beer-infested bloodstream linking them to classic Southern boogie rockers like Blackfoot, their sound bleeding the kind of soul you can't fake. If you could, Nashville Pussy would be a lot better than they are.

We Drink For Free is, to my knowledge, the third Leadfoot release. I wasn't especially looking forward to it, truth be told, because I remember the others being fairly lame, watered-down AOR-style hard rock too close to second-tier late '70s Capricorn acts like Hydra for my tastes. However, when it turned up in my mailbox, I threw it in the stereo like the dutiful little music critic I am and, several minutes later, found myself digging the hell out of it. Having been burned by previous Leadfoot releases, I kept waiting for them to hit the ol' suck button, but I was instead greeted by excellent tune after excellent tune of hard-rockin' highway music, the perfect soundtrack to a Saturday night drive on the outskirts of town, a beer in your lap and (hopefully) a hot mama next to you. Fuck, there's even a song called "Saturday Knight," one of the numbers where the band takes the needle outta the red and the pedal off the floor, the "woo-hoo" harmonies, winsome guitar lines, and spacious arrangement awakening the kind of longing you can't pinpoint, the sort of thing that makes you think you'll remember this night ten years hence when you're sitting around and remembering your bittersweet teenage life. I love this kinda shit.

But, lest you think it's all sensitive-macho-man crap, there's also a song called "Chicks Love Metal," the sort of title that's kinda misleading since these guys don't play metal, but it gives you an idea of what sort of mentality is at work, i.e. all the wit and sophistication of the "Louie, Louie" riff. And that's really the way rock 'n' roll is supposed to be, no?
(PO Box 41084 Philadelphia, PA 19127)

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