‘Ain’t got a fuckin’ thing leeeeeft,’ Nathan ‘Drake’ Hunt roars aloud – one of many things that make him ‘dayngerrrous’, according to LP opener Dangerous. Shaman’s Harvest might plough forth like a stampeding herd of mad wildebeest, in such hearty moments, but their fifth album showcases the deft musicianship behind the meat.
They misfire in places (Ten Million Voices, for example, is stodgy) but when Shaman’s Harvest hit the spot, they’re unstoppable – through sheer weight of galloping hard Southern gusto, at times. Elsewhere, clean bluesy guitar in the melancholy likes of In The End adds classy light and shade to beefier-than-thou foundations. And Country As Fuck makes this writer so very happy – simple, rugged and fiercely catchy, while stylishly affirming that they know their way round a six-string.
Hearty southern chops, ‘fried chicken and gasoline…’ Shaman’s Harvest don’t do country, but if they did, it would probably be the manliest country in the world.
