Barrence Whitfield and the Savages – Under the Savage Sky

In each howling note, chunkablock riff, and snapped-tight downbeat of this open-faced party-on-disc thrives the undeniable truth that the men on deck are so intimately proficient in and just plain in love with rock’n’roll’s capacity for uplift that it would be an injustice of brobdingnagian breadth for them to be doing anything other than this right here.

The jumped-up happy sprawl, the loose-limbed, knockout jukin’-under-carbonated-stars natural kicks — every reeling stutter-step is a bonded blowout. 

There is knuckle-poppin’ R&B, and there is soul afoot; there is the full-on, non-stop scintillation of a planet electrified; and there is stripped down, hot rod rock’n’roll so compelling as to immediately entrance whole jitter-bop legions of midnight thrill grabbers. 

The gate is flung back, the band charges forth at loud gallop, and everyone in the house is a stone celebrant.