I’ve attempted to write this review over three times, and still can’t come to a decent conclusion about Sixer. On one hand, we’ve got the sparkling press sheet that accompanies the album, throwing out other peoples raving reviews, including people placing Sixer in-between Social Distortion and the Clash, a bold statement indeed. Basically, Sixer is three guys playing thick, mildly distorted rock to back up their fourth band mate, singer/guitarist Leer Baker, while he sings, err, drones in a thick, 1-2 packs of Marlboros a day monotone serenade only greaserockers (you know, the ‘new’ set of people in their twenties that were punk, but have ‘graduated’ to grease) will enjoy. Put this in the CD boom box in your garage, hop in the Chevy (thru the window, Dukes of Hazzard style), flood it, and turn the ignition. Smell that? That’s the smell of rock, baby.
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