“My apologies to allergists; this review is covered in dust. A layer of germy sediment covers The Waco Brothers' image as aging, hard-drinking, boot-sporting journeymen. Another covers their lyrics, which alternate rootin'-tootin' cliches and look-ma-no-fascism politics (think Asleep at the Wheel Against the Machine). Another covers their sound, which is, you know, prairie-punk or saloon-wave or wh”
