I've been burnt out on traditional "garage rock" for quite a while now. Eh...organs...songs about a car....I dunno, I love the stuff that I've heard for a good chunk of my life but when a current band comes out and tries to pretend it's 1967 just a little too much I usually just wave it past. "But Dale, that stuff was so raw...and so punk!!!" And yeah, in 1967 it was but a lot of stuff has passed under the bridge since then. It ain't '67 anymore and when I see/hear a band trying to hard to pretend it is all I can think is "Oh, c'mon. You haven't been frozen in time. I can tell because you're to spot on and studied." It doesn't have those band's bringing any original experience into it...It's just some people on stage trying to retell someone else's story. I'm sure everyone here knows how wrong a story that someone heard about someone else with details missing or misconstrued. This should have entitled this record maybe one play on the trusty NuMark then lost somewhere in the rows and stacks of 45's I have laying around my digs. You see, the Maharajas have the story all wrong but in this case it is a good thing. They're not trying to tell the straight story. They don't own anything made of white cordouroy (or if they do it's more likely to be dingy that blinding). A decent amount of fuzztone used but not OVERused, a whole lotta nod's to white boy soul ala Scott Morgan (who's latest white boy soul project the Solution went over pretty swell in Sweden, the place [Stockholm to be exact] the MAHARAJAS call home) and enough maniacal moments keep it from getting a brush off. Even Tony from the Bill Bondsmen has good things to say about these guys and he can smell bullshit from a mile away. They get my endorsement over a bunch of Little Steven's Underground Garage band darlings.