The Toothpicks’ Superb Ate reminds me of my youth. Not that youth…like my second youth: post-teens. Did I mention I’m 33? Now you know.
It’s not that they sing about being young, nor do they sound young. Their western brew of fried surf-noir feels a bit rocking chair, albeit on a smoky, shotgun shell-littered porch with a glass of lemonade and whisky resting nearby. There’s a waterhole right around the corner—maybe a body or two at the bottom—and over yonder are a few wild horses racing towards the sun. Yes, Superb Ate, my little time machine.
Now, they say this album was inspired by cowboy flicks. Could the name be a wink at Tarantino’s The Hateful Eight? Or a nod to some ramshackle Super 8 motel in the desert where outlaws plot what, or who, they’ll strike next? Tarantino is a fan of using surf rock in his movies. But to get a sense of this album, we’ve got to go a little deeper, a little stranger than a QT blockbuster. Have you ever seen Dead Man or The American Astronaut? Hop on it little doggie. Those two will wet your whistle. But we can talk films another time…back to feeling young.
There was a spell in my life, about 8 or 10 years ago, when Salt Lake City was really kickin’. I lived in the Avenues. I skated around town (I only ollied three stairs) and Urban Lounge was the spot. These guys remind me of that era — and two bands in particular that caught my ear then: The Abigails and Kid Congo & The Pink Monkey Birds. Come to think of it, there’s some Hunx & His Punx flair to the little bridge section of ‘Lemonade and Whisky’ too.
Take the tragic, yet romantic, guitar clop of ‘Midnight Strangers’. That cut could turn any roughneck into a moonlight-stricken fool nursing a bleeding heart. And don’t get me started on ‘Thalia’s Eyes’. Btw, is this dame single? Sounds like she’s got a killer look.
Yes, the good ol’ Toothpicks. Just enough noir, and just enough laid back, to remind me of what it felt like to be young and dangerous. Am I getting sentimental? Maybe it’s all the synth-heavy indie-pop I’ve been binging lately. Superb Ate stormed in with its raw, lo-fi nature and resurfaced my obsession for a niche sound I can only describe as: outlaw music. Thank you, boys. Stay gritty.