American Sharks' time machine is broken. The Texans (Austin by way of Houston) are in the middle of a tale filled with time-traveling hijinks, their shenanigans taking them through the fat, fuzzy rock and acerbic spitting of the '70s before careening off into the crazy, crash-heavy metal of the early '90s. This gives them a weird, timeless/out-of-time quality, deliciously muddling their influences into a smirking, smart-alecky patois. The blithe, high energy attitude of the record makes it a very entertaining; it's a raucous cross between the druggy indolence of stoner rock and the wildness of punk, best embodied on "Indian Man." There are some ways in which this mix of influences leads to identity crises though: the song structures all lean towards punk brevity, while the thicker, more substantial riffs occasionally deserve more space to fully develop. Nonetheless, American Sharks' debut is a great deal of fun.
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