Australian bands often sound more American than American bands. Okay, not the Oils, but still. Golden Fang falls somewhere in-between, conjuring up memories of the Hoodoo Gurus and other 80s muscular alterna-rock bands. If you don't believe me, listen to "Tonight We're Going to Party Like It's Dunedin 1989." That's a Flying Nun records reference for all you kiddoes. New Zealand, yes, but definitely not Seattle or Chicago (or Louisville). Golden Fang knows its history.

Golden Fang Here. Now Here. (self-released)

And Golden Fang owns its future. This album, completed during the pandemic, is as assured as any rock outing I've heard this year. The guitars roar, the songs menace and captivate and the whole procession hurtles toward oblivion with aplomb.

In a time of easy access to production tools that allow for spectacular, technical sound, Golden Fang prefers to keep itself grimy. The playing is tight and solid, but often the mix muddles the sound. I like that. This is a band, and that sort of rough mixing makes that a point of emphasis. Rock is about sharing and collaboration. Golden Fang has that down.

What a glorious roar. Golden Fang may be from Australia, but its sound fits in anywhere. Maybe one of these days the boys will make it back to the states for a few dates. Dark days may have inspired great albums like this one, but one can't help but look to better times after a few listens to this set. The louder you play it, the better you will feel.

Jon Worley