Nashville Pussy

"I shit on the moon," bleats Pussy front-man Blaine Cartwright on latest album From Hell To Texas during "I'm So High." That intellectually-stimulating quote pretty much sums up this collection of 12 tracks from a band on the steady decline for longer than they were kind of cool. Mired in half-tempo Southern twang, the album fails to generate the same piss'n'vinegar, adrenaline-pumping attitude that established them as a dangerous entity a decade ago. Instead, like cohorts the Supersuckers, with this effort, Nashville Pussy are slowing down and embracing their Skynyrd/country roots instead of baring their teeth and unleashing the wrath and frustration they should have at the record industry for giving them the NME treatment: propping them up as rock saviours and immediately wiping them from memory when things felt remotely stagnant. Then again, when an album such as this, which feels like nothing more than a slap-dash compiling of uninspired cow-punk to justify more touring, is what the Pussy offer as their current state of mind, it's no wonder they tread the same underground trail time and again.