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» Add News | Sun Gods In Exile
Tearing out of Portland, Maine, Sun Gods in Exile are here to steal your booze and blow up your speakers, all the while laughing their heads off and setting fire to anything and everything in their way. This ain’t no post-shoegaze-ambient-drone, no sir. This is Pre-cambrian rock, the kind of stuff the cavemen were blasting from their boomboxes on Saturday night down by the tarpit to psych themselves up before they went out hunting Pterodactyl or whatever it was that cavemen ate. This is what it would sound like if Ted Nugent stormed the stage at an Allman Brothers show and then proceeded to ...read more
Tearing out of Portland, Maine, Sun Gods in Exile are here to steal your booze and blow up your speakers, all the while laughing their heads off and setting fire to anything and everything in their way. This ain’t no post-shoegaze-ambient-drone, no sir. This is Pre-cambrian rock, the kind of stuff the cavemen were blasting from their boomboxes on Saturday night down by the tarpit to psych themselves up before they went out hunting Pterodactyl or whatever it was that cavemen ate. This is what it would sound like if Ted Nugent stormed the stage at an Allman Brothers show and then proceeded to rip solos over everything; verses, choruses, intros, outros, everything. This is the sound of electric guitars sweating in the humidity of a hot August evening down in the bayou. See, the fellas in Sun Gods in Exile are from Maine, but they don’t know that. They got off the wrong exit of Route 66 and ended up in the Northeast, but they think they’re down in the deep South, hanging out with the Van Zants and trying to write the perfect Southern-rock anthem. It’s okay, though. You’re in good hands here. Having done time in various other rock outfits, such as monolithic doomheads Ocean and the flat-out stoner (there, I said it) tribe Cortez, the Sun Gods know the names of their guitar strings and how to set up a drumset properly. Adam Hitchcock has perfected his gritty Southern wail, Tony D’Agostino, aka Tony Vegas, plays guitar solos in his sleep, JL lays down a solid foundation on bass that you could build your house on, and Johnny Kennedy holds it all together with impeccable time keeping. Small Stone Records (who else?) snapped these guys up and they recorded their album of Skynyrd worship, titled “Black Light, White Lines”, at world-renowned Mad Oak Studios. And once this mother is released, just stand back and get out of the way, because what else are you gonna do when these guys start playing and fire’s raining from the sky and guitar solos are echoing off all the buildings? Stop ‘em? Yeah, right. ~ Darryl Shepard "Sun Gods in Exile - Black Light, White Lines" Sun Gods in Exile - Black Light, White Lines Review by John Pegoraro (StonerRock.com) Small Stone Records Release date: June 2009 Listen up, screwheads, if you’re gonna be in a rock n roll band, you gotta have solos. That’s a universal truth, just like beer goes well with more beer and if it’s too loud, you’re too old. And yet some dunderheads can’t grasp this basic fact. Not so with Tony “Leadeye” D'Agostino, guitarist of Portland, Maine’s Sun Gods in Exile (ever so briefly Burnt Orange, presumably until the Crayola Corp came down on them like a ton of earthern hued bricks). In fact, at times I was convinced the ten tracks on debut Black Light, White Lines were nothing more than conduits for his leads. “Hey, I got solos up the ying-yang, what should I do with them?” “Uh, let’s write some songs, I guess.” That’s not to imply that Black Light, White Lines is a throwaway album, because it’s not - unless you want nothing to do with straightforward classic hard rock that’s pretty much solely preoccupied with cheap booze, cheaper blow, dirty women, and good times. And a veritable shit ton of solos. In my book, that adds up to some damn good tunes. Unlike a fair amount of fellow Small Stone groups, Sun Gods in Exile (along with D’Agostino, there’s Adam Hitchcock on vocals, Johnny Kennedy on drums, and Ocean’s JL – yes, the glacially slow Ocean – on bass) takes the usual ‘70’s influences and incorporates a healthy amount of early ‘80’s cock rock swagger. It’s not so much defined in any specific moment, except maybe in the title track, which, if it were a video, would feature the band walking down a darkened street on a cold night, ultimately arriving at an abandoned warehouse, setting up their gear, and rocking out. It’s more about the general attitude and delivery. And really, if you’re going to name a song “Turbo Fire,” it sure as hell ought to sound like it was written around the same time as Screaming for Vengeance or Love at First Sting. (Those who prefer their bitchin’ Camaro rock to pre-date the Reagan administration, I’ll direct your attention to “Eye for an Eye,” “The Gripper,” “Hell Well,” and closing number “495,” which probably should’ve been titled “A Simple Man and His Very Free Bird.”) Sure, my days of howling at the moon are long gone, but that doesn’t mean I still can’t get a visceral kick out of Sun Gods in Exile. After all, if it’s too loud, then you’re too old. Recommended. « hide |
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