Titling their opening salvo in tribute to THE most recognizable name of those who wrote the book on Rock-n-Roll decadence and a back alley chic blond with bangs singer guessing Bridez stumbling through gutters that Royal Trux dug is pretty much the name of the game. The quotes in the one-sheet encourage such thinking too.
So is this a tribute to couple who both had H as the first letter in their last name?
Well maybe but those such junkie rock tendencies don't glare that super bright much on here. It's somewhat disjointed but there's more of a full on EPIC rock-n-roll chug throughout the two songs here. Instead of waiting for it to fall apart sounding like it's close to nodding out on a bed with a lit cigarette in it's hand Bridez are ready and riled as they flick a hotboxed and burning cigarette at your face and throw a house party where couches get trashed from people jumping around on them but not dozing off with the aforementioned cigarettes. Brash & battered but something like girl group nod buried deep below the blare. And what a blare it is. It's sounds as if they set gas powered lawnmowers with the throttles open wide iup on the stage cuz the distortion and roar from any guitar pedal just ain't enough.