Album Review: Gunslingers - My First Trip To Mexico

Somewhere in a Melbourne garage, a band is watching old Sergio Leone westerns. They are possibly deciding what is a reasonable amount of drink and drugs to allow them to improve on Morricone's soundtracks. Parched and yet a bit swampy, the guitars drift in and out of the heat haze, while Thomas Lutrov's vocals have the despair of a man watching his own gallows being built outside the cell window. The 'psychedelic' word also makes an appearance, but they never quite lose their way in the desert completely. It's a comic melodrama, sure – but a pretty good one.