Bad Motherfuckers. That’s what Dark Thirty should have been called. It should have been a self titled album. Bad Motherfuckers by Bad Motherfuckers. Then people would know exactly what they’re getting.
There’s nothing nice about the music Quintaine Americana makes. They are a rabid dog snarling at anyone who gets too close. The bass provides the growl. The guitars provide the bite. The music is dark, heavy and earthy. They lyrics are cinematic, moving pictures of backwoods characters that prowl the night. The band shines a light on the things you don’t want to see. You can’t look away.
The hooks are as big as the riffs on Dark Thirty. “Hitchhiker in Black” sets the tone. The sequence of “Then One More”, “Set Me On Fire” and “Hogs” absolutely kills. On second thought, add “The Sky” and “Blast Away” to that sequence as well. “She Lets Me Ride” tears along a dirt road at full throttle. For the most part their attack is focused. Get in. Take your shot. Get out in well under four minutes. Move on to the next victim.
With Dark Thirty, Quintaine Americana sets the bar for heavy rock n’ roll almost impossibly high. A gritty document of some dudes doing what they do best. Bad motherfuckers being bad motherfuckers.
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