HITS AND EXIT WOUNDS
'If you haven’t ridden that train with these Brixton cowboys, this is the perfect place to jump on board.'
Released 2008 on One Little Indian
If you haven’t ridden that train with these Brixton cowboys, this is the perfect place to jump on board. Taking a backdrop of pumping acid house, they throw in large doses of country, gospel and blues. Songs like 'Hello . . . I’m Johnny Cash' is almost mainstream country while 'Mansion On The Hill' is a furious dancefloor banger.
Insert Hits And Exit Wounds into iTunes and the genre comes up as 'unclassifiable', which is at least briefer than Alabama 3's own preference of being a 'punk rock, blues and country techno situationist crypto-Marxist-Leninist electro band'. As this hits collection proves, the Brixtonites are one of those rare bands - like the Pixies, early Suede or Klaxons - who construct their own sonic and thematic universe and make you want to live in it.
'Hits And Exit Wounds' is good as an introduction to an extraordinary band or a trip down memory lane for their followers along the way. The retrospective collection provides as many tracks that are as Sunday Morning, as Saturday Night, showing the well embossed talent that Alabama 3 have worked hard on over the years.
This 18-track album illustrates perfectly what can be missed if the media continue to dicate what they perceive to be 'cool' or 'new'. So what if seven of the 18 songs were originally recorded for the band's first album, 'Exile On Coldharbour Lane'? They were ahead of their time back in the late Nineties, and those songs just sound as fresh today. 'Hypo Full Of Love' ('The 12 Step Plan') is the opener and instantly the listener knows they will spend the next hour and twenty minutes having their soul deep cleansed by some of the most uplifting and smoothest trance vibes The Good Lord has empowered anyone to play.
Their stylish, slightly seedy brew of country and dance remains devilishly intoxicating and skillfully steers clear of novelty (despite Reverend D Wayne's preacher man delivery). Steel guitar lament U Don't Danse To Tekno Anymore sums up their festival position perfectly: for those too old to rave but too young for the grave, they remain the ultimate good-time bastardos.