The Sh-Booms Debut with a Mighty Bang
Grant Britt
Posted On March 25, 2019
Blending the soulful sweetness of Carla Thomas with the raw power of Patti LaBelle, lead vocalist Brenda Radney blasts her way through a raucous set of soul-soaked garage rock on the Sh-Booms’ debut full-length release. The horn-heavy Orlando, Florida-based group hammers out a big-eared sonic footprint that embraces a window-rattling fusion of punk, garage, and soul that guitarist Davis Schleicher describes as “sweaty, drunk, fun.”
The group formed in 2011, but Radney didn’t come along ’til 2015, after an eight-year stint on Justin Timberlake’s Tennman label, making an appearance on his 2013’s The 20/20 Experience, Pt. 2. Radney won a talent contest and a chance to sing at the 2007 Grammys with Timberlake, who signed her to his label. But she felt stifled and ignored, and after eight years asked to be let go in what she describes as an amicable parting.
Fronting the Sh-Booms brought back the fun she was missing being sequestered in the studio. Once as strong as 12 members, the band now hovers around nine pieces, putting out a sonic wave that would intimidate a lesser voice. But Radney overrides the bombast, her vocals cutting through the heavy soul-funk with ease.
Radney punches her way through the lyrics of “Leon the Hustler,” a bombastic cut reminiscent of Patti LaBelle’s “Lady Marmalade,” a gritty tale of the streets that wobbles between a psychedelicized take on Isaac Hayes’ “Theme from Shaft,” minus the strings and flutes, and ’60s Stax soul.
“Audible” is like looking into a hall of mirrors, a retro garage take on a group doing retro soul. Here the Sh-Booms channel the Daptones doing classic Stax retro soul, with bassist/vocalist bandleader Al Ruiz chipping in on the choruses, counter-punching Radney’s impassioned churchy Carla Thomas soul sermon.
“King and Queen” is amphetamine-fueled punk, Radney shoving the band out of the way every time she opens her mouth, like Grace Slick fronting the Bad Brains.
Radney struts her way through “Walk It Off” like LaBelle slumming in a juke joint, her soulful shoutin’ backed by a motley crew of psychedelic funksters.
“Drop ‘Em Dead” sounds like a punk spaghetti western starring an over-caffeinated Eartha Kitt with multiple personalities, spinning her internal dials to tune into Etta James, LaBelle, and Carla Thomas before returning to Eartha.
It’s a workout that’ll wear your ass out, a blast from the past dialed into the future of soul, magnified and transmogrified by Brenda Radney’s magnificent, intimidating tonsils.
