I don?t drink Red Bull anymore. The pundits say it gives you ?Wings,? but we all know what bullshit that is. All Red Bull gives you is cocaine jaw and a tummy-ache. Besides, Paul McCartney already gave us ?Wings? and I think we all remember how that turned out. So where now does one turn when one wants to stay up all night punching holes in one?s drywall? There is, of course, the standby favourites like meth, getting dumped, PCP, or losing all your money to online poker; though, I find nights like these can cause lasting damage (not only to your walls) and usually end in tears. So to keep out of the hospital or jail, I advocate a healthier, less emotionally taxing alternative. For me gettin? destructive is simply a matter of finding my Pride Tiger disc, buying a bunch of beer and cigarettes, cueing the stereo and settling in for a nice evening of domestic carnage. I mean it when I say this album makes me tear my fucking house apart. I can?t tell whether it?s the thickset dual-guitars in constant trade-off, the violently energetic rhythms, or the hollared choruses that dare you not to chant along, but something about this tidy rendition of mid-1970s muscle-rock makes me go bananas. From start to finish ?Wood, Dhak, Froese, Payette? is an ebbing & flowing bombast of blue-collar rock n? roll songs beating with the heart of the old greats.

For a start you?ve got your Thin Lizzy (sorry for being predictable, but it?s a fair reference). But for a band that dabbles in the sway of Zeppelin, Sabbath, and the great beer rockers like Steve Miller (all the while incorporating their own take on metal and thrash), limiting their sound to a single source seems rather unfair. Songs like ?What It Is,? ?Six Four Two,? and ?Bro-Owl? with their doubled lead guitars, nut-busting solos, and ambiguously macho lyrics definitely warrant a Lizzy mention; but, there?s still something missing. Thin Lizzy wrote songs about wayward women, cowboys, and drunk buddies. Despite moments bravado (?Hey you / good lookin? female / C?meer?), they always seemed to have a gentle, more wistful side. I find Pride Tiger forgoes a lot of that inauthentic pastoral (Thin Lizzy?s from Ireland for Christ?s sake. ?Cowboy Song?? Come-on. They never saw a Cowboy in their lives, the phonies) bullshit for something a little more barbed and a little less apologetic. Take ?The White Witch Woman Blues? lyrics for instance, ?When I grew / I always knew / when the colour went blue / I?d be leaving you.? Two lines into the first verse already they?re ditching impregnated women. Burly.

The songs bleed a sheer toughness and vulgarity that Lizzy never really conjured. The two definitely share themes like road-trip escapism and bro-dom but, like I say, Pride Tiger is ten times gnarlier. Did you ever hear a Thin Lizzy song as jarring as ?This Old Louse? (the best song on the album, selon-moi)?

Whether it?s borne of influence or not, the fact remains this album is easy to like. The songs are paced and arranged flawlessly, the riffs are zippy and satisfying, the solos are ample and the hooks are so fucking memorable it usually takes days to rub them out of your skull?much like the drywall bits now totally lodged in my knuckles.

Despite an uninventive title and shitty cover art (not pictured here), ?Wood, Dhak, Froese, Payette? is two tickets to paradise. I call ?summer soundtrack? on this one.

This mar?fucker gets 9 attempted Jailbreaks out of a possible 10.