Want to vent some frustration? Go to a Sampson show. If you can tolerate their devoted following of drunken law students, you can really let it loose. And I'm not talking your beer-bottle-on-the-belt-buckle head nods. I'm talking, Let it Loose.
Sampson, very likely DC's most well-connected band, plays loud, angry and socially conscious music. Part punk, part thrash, part reggae, they are the band of the minute, designed to please and enlighten. Their grooves, chant/rap vocals and similiarly self-righteous lyrics occupy the same territory as the better known Rage Against the Machine.
In the interest of Full Disclosure, I should mention here that Dirk Hoostra, who plays bass in Sampson, once offered to beat up the lead singer of Drumfish for me.
Well, I'm stretching that story a bit::::okay, I'm stretching it a lot. But he would have. If I had asked. If I had had any good reason to ask. Not that those kids in Drumfish don't deserve a good ass-kicking. What with all their Blue Bus and such.
My point is that consequently I have a weak spot for Sampson which will inappropriately skew this review.
Paul Weil is the man to watch. He climbs upstairs:::jumps around:::bangs his bongos:::lays out the Sampson doctrine. But the band's strength and sound are built on Anthony Onley's beats. Onley's effortless drumming could make any band sound pro.
That and album production by Burning Airline's J. Robbins (Oh, was he in a band before Burning Airlines?) It is relevant to mention this because the production is remarkably sound and vet'ran. Unlike a lot of independent label efforts, this album is neither slapped together nor over-done with meaningless post-production. The strength of the groove propels the album and both Robbins and the band allow this to happen.
The difficulty I have with this album is that I am too damn old to stay that angry and self-righteous for a entire hour. You can make it through this album if you just broke up or if you have enough left over Crazy Horse. Left over because they don't make it anymore. Did you know that? They discontinued it because it was offensive to Native Americans. Yeah, okay, I'll give you that, but it was really the only malt liquor with a neck you could grip easily. What the hell am I supposed to do now? O.E. Eight Balls just keeps slipping out of my fist and shattering on the porch. If you're going to discontinue anything for the Native Americans discontinue the Redskins. Hell, take Chief Wahoo too. But leave my malt alone. Ahh, Crazy Horse, you will be missed.
Anyway, most people beyond the age of 15 are going to have to listen to this album in several chunks. Knowing this, the band slipped in an interlude for it's older listeners. Take advantage of it.
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