World's Most Dangerous: Southern Fried Throwdown
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It's no accident this fearsome foursome of Houstonians and New Orleans expats contracts to WMD. Debut Southern Fried Throwdown rocks with the kind of two-fisted, double-barreled, metal-edged frenzy that should make the boys in ZZ Top swell with regional pride and Mötorhead's Lemmy look nervously over his shoulder. As with other bands of its Dixie-fried ilk — Honky, Supagroup, Syrup — WMD opts to mine a limited range of subject matter: namely drink, drugs, sex and the South, but the group does have a sense of social responsibility. One song, after all, is called "Put the Cold Beer Down," though it's probably only so the poor bastard who's driving can hold the steering wheel — a theory supported by "Driving By Braille" (itself a worthy heir of ZZ's "Arrested for Driving While Blind"). WMD's musical range is likewise limited to the deep-fried blues of "Swamp Ass" — which is not about the unfortunate nether-regions chafing that happens when you take a long walk on a hot day — or the more metallic assaults of "Hoot Toot and a Shoot" or "Texneck." Anyone who might take exception to such brazen political incorrectness probably doesn't belong at a WMD show anyhow, and those who do will want a copy of Southern Fried Throwdown to fill in any memory gaps that might arise.
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