We all know progressive rock. But who among us knows of the superior pleasures of regressive rock? Only those who listen to the likes of the Flamin' Groovies, a cult band in the truest sense, who sound out of time and place whenever they're played, because they're both backward and forward looking, trapped in a netherworld of bandwagon jumping and hipster snobbery. Yet sometimes they seem to nail the world down in just the right place with their no-frills garage rock and oddly innocent decadence. Flamingo is the one that does it for me. More consistent than Teenage Head (their other near-masterpiece), this one is an almost relentless 10-track barnburner. It's a drunkard's record. A brawler's record. The record waiting for that summer's night cruise in the Dodge Challenger. In a just world, "Second Cousin" and "She's Falling Apart" would be classics. "Road House" sounds like The Who in '65 crossed with The Gun Club in '80. Join the cult. Go on, drink it, it's good for you.
–Will
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