S.S. Bountyhunter by S.S. Bountyhunter (Review)

Wearing sunglasses while sitting behind the wheel is the most appropriate place to listen to this album.
S/T, S.S. Bountyhunter

Red and blue lights glare from your rearview mirror as you flick your cigarette out the car window and punch the gas. You tear through the city night with adrenaline pushing every nerve. Your car hits 90 as you swerve past the back-up and run up on the sidewalk, sending pedestrians scattering for their lives. Sirens blare as you gain control of the car, only to send it crashing into the police cruiser in front of you. Police are screaming “Put your hands in the air!” Your hands touch the roof of your “K” car as an angry policeman points a gun in your face. Before you know it, your body hits the concrete with cops hovering over you. You look up from the street, stare the men in blue right in the eyes, and say, “The music made me do it.”

S.S. Bountyhunter has recorded an album that explores every emotion a spy might experience as he or she speeds, sneaks, or flees through the night. The guitar riffs à la James Bond give way to the eerie reverb and keyboards à la “Good Vibrations.” Each song is another journey through the head of a man in black. Wearing sunglasses while sitting behind the wheel is the most appropriate place to listen to this album.

And if you want to get plugged
I’ll give my trigger a hug
For a simple display of a little tough love

Ty Burton speaks in a “bad guy” type of voice as the song, “I Hunt It Down,” quickly brings the feel of being hunted. “S.S. Credo” does the same with the repeating riff that sounds like a chase through city alleys and across rooftops. The reverb is heavy on “The Arsenal” with psychotic keyboards and Burton’s frightening whisper that keeps you peeking over your shoulder and sleeping with one eye open. In the midst of it all, “Here Come the Bishops” arrives as a strange surf song.

Actually, every song on the album could be surfed to, but mainly S.S. Bountyhunter writes songs to be chased to. It’s almost as if Dick Dale recorded an album for an undercover police TV series. The record does not have the big Bond band or the flashy voice of Tom Jones, but it does contain the best ’70s car chase tunes recorded since “CHiPs.” Throughout the album you may experience rushes of adrenaline, chills of terror, and the inevitable feeling of being indestructible.

Written by Nolan Shigley.

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