IMPALA
From their surf-explosive “Squad Car” to the razorsharp swagger of Henry Mancini's “Experiment in Terror,” this Memphis-based sax-‘n'-guitar-driven instrumental combo Impala know the seedier side of Gotham like the back of their assassin's hand. Don't be smoked by the title—there's nary a drop of conventional R&B in this Molotov cocktail. What you get instead is an alleyway exploration of hot rods, switchblades, and catfights that'd have the Grammy “Best Instro” committee signing bonus checks—if they weren't scurrying to safer environs. Impala rack up the bodies with a fierce cover of Link Wray's “Vendetta”—two chords, two barrels, direct hit. “The Scratch” and “LTD A GoGo” are more subversive: laser-in-the-back sci-fi/surf rock peppered with enough minor chords to show just the tiniest hint of conscience.
After the plunder, it's straight to the ladies: “Makin' It” and “Yesiree” are pure bordello romp—sax-driven, sleazier-than-Flynt burlesque that, like Eric Oblivian's liner notes imply, tether the 1940s to the 1990s better than any nouveau L.A. swing combo could hope to. Whatcha waiting for, kid? Unless you got real nerve, you'd best give ‘em your wallet and hit the gas.
After the plunder, it's straight to the ladies: “Makin' It” and “Yesiree” are pure bordello romp—sax-driven, sleazier-than-Flynt burlesque that, like Eric Oblivian's liner notes imply, tether the 1940s to the 1990s better than any nouveau L.A. swing combo could hope to. Whatcha waiting for, kid? Unless you got real nerve, you'd best give ‘em your wallet and hit the gas.
John Pecorelli
Hot Rod magazine
Hot Rod magazine
Ltd A Gogo
