Digging in the Basement for Olde English Love

I bought Bantam Rooster's Deal Me In for a buck a few weeks back, and that thing still brings the big sound, unlike just about every other two-man band not named Flat Duo Jets. Tom Potter's voice is a national treasure, and you should be able to walk into the Smithsonian, push a button of Olde English and hear that crazy backwoods scream. It would cost about five buckos to pull off, and we could keep the top tax rate at island purchasing levels. No funding for commie art! Starvation breeds quality! Let them eat ramen! Anyway, I was rummaging through the basement and discovered this box of old singles, so what better project to start and then abandon than to review a couple and then go back to the frustrating business of reducing the foam on the fucking kegerator. What we have with the first blind pick is something new from Mr. Potter that, how shall we say it, does not live up to the earlier work. Two fairly generic riffs coming at you middle-aged crawl. Not that the old shit was all about speed (hell, one of my favorite Rooster numbers is "Summer in Hamtramck," which sounds like Kim Salmon on ludes), but there ain't a lotta here here unless hearing that voice again is enough to make you put on "Pony Up" again and search the back of the closet for your Vegas Shakedown video. It lays there, and that's about it. Hell, this was probably just a cheap excuse to get loaded with buddies while the wives took the kids to waterworld. Potter will be back, but if not, the three Bantam records, the SLA shit (wildly underappreciated) and all that Dirtbombs banter is enough for the discerning asshole.