Slim Cessna's Auto Club's twisted take on traditional country isn't exactly what they mean when they say "psychobilly," but it could be. It's more like psycho-honky-tonk, and it makes onetime Alternative Tentacles labelmate Mojo Nixon seem awfully well adjusted by comparison.
Yodeling gospel through gold teeth, Cessna leads a quintet of dizzying organ, weeping steel guitar, and deep-twang six-string, guiding the flock through nondenominational obsessing on Jesus and his sacrifices. Dressed in suits and cowboy hats, the Auto Club splits its time between praising the Lord and using his name as an expletive. While the band's fierce pickin' recalls the Soggy Bottom Boys, the oblique lyrics of "Cheyenne" are as menacing as anything that's ever been said in a murder ballad. Don't think this band will leave a tear in your beer, though: The Auto Club's marathon sets are the kind of music you can really dance to.