Before show

Slept as best I could and took a long shower, but stopped short of blowdrying my beard, which for some reason feels like apex self-indulgence. It was the last day of Freak Valley 2025, and that’s always bittersweet. This place and these people are so special, and I’ve made really good memories here the last four years that I’ve been lucky enough to take part in FVF. It is an honor, and I do not take it for granted.

Made it to the AWO grounds well in time for yoga. That was probably the most direct sunlight I was in on Friday (my days and dates are so screwed up), but the last day of Freak Valley was the solstice too, and for sure there would be sun. The kind of heat that kills old people. A father and his 12-year-old played frisbee on the grass. A small street sweeper went by on the back walking path. The drum riser came out on stage. Sitting in the no-smokers-yet smoking tent for the shade, it was idyllic.

The yoga session was once again fantastic — I even got to sneak in a little boat pose, and you know I’m on board for some shavasana — even without snaily taking part. It finished a couple minutes earlier than the day before, so I didn’t have to run over after hearing Volker Fröhmer’s standard band-intro beginning, a hearty and voluminous “liebe freunde” that is as much a staple of this festival as the word “freak.” I played for a minute in the sprinkler accordingly.

But soon enough, the concluding day of Freak Valley Festival was underway, and I seem to recall it went something like this:

Lurch

The straight-up riff rock aspect of Lurch’s sound took me back to turn-of-the-century European heavy rock, instrumental and otherwise. Thinking ’99-’03 or thereabouts, and all those bands who weren’t shy about having numbers in their monikers. Part of what they did was jam, or at least jam-based — at one point, the bassist threw in the theme from Super Mario Bros., which I’ve had steadily on repeat in my head for the last 40-ish years; if we’ve met and I’ve invariably forgotten your name, it’s because my brain is occupied with doo doo doo do-do doot on an endless loop; I’m not kidding, sometimes it’s torture, but it was cool in the mid-song context — but there was structure there even apart from the one or two songs that had vocals. From Austria, Lurch were unknown to me previously, but they’re playing Hoflärm as well in August and they’ve got a slew of releases that seem pretty dug in and exploratory — and by that I mean you might get a five-minute song or a 39-minute song, depending on the record. Some of that variety made its way into the set as well, and the lesson was quickly learned as they went, pushing into psych with grounded, terrestrial riffing at the forefront. Not the first time I’m writing a note to myself this weekend about a good band. I cannot begin to tell you the value that has for me, though I’ve been trying for a few years now, I guess.

Bushfire

Schedule change! Scott Hepple and the Sun Band were supposed to play second, and Bushfire were to do two mini-sets on the small stage later on, but there was van trouble, so the Darmstadters took the slot and, as frontman Bill Brown told the crowd, “once again Bushfire are the heroes of the universe.” They were playing their new album, Snakes Bites Tales, for its release, and the gritty riffing hit just right. I’m not going to feign impartiality on this one. I consider Bill not just a friend, but a good friend who I’ve known over a decade, and whenever in the day it was happening, I was excited to see his band for the first time. The burl of their records was in full effect, but came through with a fragility live, and as Bill told his tales from the stage between songs, whether it was about drinking and drugs, writing the lyrics on the backs of posters backstage 45 minutes earlier when they were informed of the switch, or it being the end of side A before they turned to “Die Trying” (they would do side B on the small stage later), the crowd filled in on the sun-beat grass and groove was had in abundance. No question dude is a presence on stage, but the two guitars stood up to the throaty vocals and the solos came through with due punch before the drums and bass turned out around back to the verse again. Bushfire have never been about reinventing the wheel of heavy rock, but they roll that wheel in a way that’s expressive and their own, and I didn’t even realize how much I needed that kick in the ass, so thanks. Don’t look for it tomorrow, but I’ll have a review of the album here sooner or later. Honestly, this was more about appreciating the chance to witness a friend kill it in the band’s native habitat, which I was fortunate to do.

Kombynat Robotron

I hit the spritzcannon hard before their set. Had to happen. You could see a rainbow in the spray. I wasn’t quite soaked, but it was worth putting my bag down and standing there for an earth-minute or two, though soon enough it was back at it for Kombynat Robotron. The ascendant heavy space/cosmic rockers are set to issue their new album, AANK, next month — more homework to put in my notes file; not complaining — and if they wanted to put this set out too, that’d be just fine by me. They got the combination of push and swing just right in terms of pace, where you could feel the physical urging of the music within the abiding nod, coming through in a wash of wah with miraculous clarity of intent for something that was so noisy and open-feeling. They had some bliss on offer as well, but once the forward momentum was locked in, so pretty much immediately, it held for the duration. I’d been too in my own head the day before. Getting lost in Kombynat Robotron for a while was refreshing in a different way than having droplets of water launched at my person, but refreshing just the same to stop measuring time in planetary terms. I’m not sure if I enjoyed more the raw moments in Kombynat Robotron — because for sure there are riffs in there — or the tonal wash into which they sometimes veered during the set, but fortunately, there’s zero need for me to choose between them. They were dead on, and I came away with a better understanding of how they work as a group. Total win of a bend for reality.

Highway Child

The heavy underground has a long memory, and though Denmark’s Highway Child broke up 14 years ago in 2011 after the release of their self-titled third album, the heavy underground also loves a redemption story, so Highway Child were here and are at a couple other spots this summer. It’s not the five-week comeback tour or anything, but though there’s been a generational turnover since, they would play to an audience who knew and appreciated their work. So far as I know, that’s is the ideal when you’re doing something like this. They put out two records on Elektrohasch, 2008’s On the Old Kings Road (review here, discussed here) and 2009’s Sanctuary Come (review here), right as the label was starting to hit its arguable peak, so yes, I remembered them too, though I’d never seen them before. Rooted in heavy blues, with a swagger that’s apparently been lying in wait for the better part of a decade and a half, they had folks dancing in the sun out front and were a party all on their own on stage as well. Not a band I ever thought I’d see, and not one I’d be likely to catch otherwise. Figures I’d get all emotional on the last day of the fest. Hard not to.

Travo

Let the party continue. From Portugal, Travo turned heads with late-2023’s Astromorph God (review here) and have been spreading the word live since. The KEXP session earlier this year probably helped in that regard too, feather in their collective cap as it was. Even the line check was brash, but that was nothing compared to once they got going. Leaning more into space rock — I’d say neospace, as I do sometimes, but it didn’t feel quite right, despite all the rampant modernity of the wash they set above the classic pulsations of the drums — they had a solid foundation of heavy tone on which to dance, and set themselves to doing exactly that. If you’ve been reading this site for a while, or even a day, you probably already know there’s little I enjoy more than agreeing with myself. Also disagreeing! But man, I was so right to be excited to see Travo. I may not have been able to hang in the sun, but I found a spot for the whole set after taking pictures and set up camp by which I mean put my bag down, for the duration and they hit hard, digging in with all-go energy and a succession of rad effects-topped builds, voice intermittently punching its way through all the shove surrounding. They made me want me coffee, dared to mellow a bit, and ended with the biggest big-rock-finish I’ve caught here so far.

Wucan

With a new album due in August titled Axioms — it’ll be the Dresden four-piece’s fifth LP — Wucan took the stage to herald the release with due veteranly confidence, and held off breaking out either the flute or the theremin (both firsts) until after the first song, which seems classy somehow. A strong thread of heavy ’10s boogie running through their songwriting, but like many who took that path, Wucan are less about vintageism than broadening a palette of classic, heavy and progressive rock. I’ll admit it’s been a while since I last heard them, but the vibe was sleek and the crowd ate it up as perhaps they inevitably would. The longest day of the year still had plenty of sunshine left in it, but the lawn was packed, somebody had an inflatable flying V, which was fun, and Wucan made sticking it out worthwhile, strut or shuffle or twist. The political complexities of stage outfits notwithstanding, Wucan were an unmitigated good time, with melodies and groove they reached out directly to the crowd and hooked people in. I was curious how much of what they played was new as they touched on space rock about halfway through the set, but this too was fair game for the expanded reach of their sound. I’ll be interested to hear where the album goes.

The Devil and the Almighty Blues

This was my third time seeing Norway’s The Devil and the Almighty Blues, after Høstsabbat in Oslo in 2019 (the before-time) and in 2017 at Roadburn in the Netherlands. In January, if all goes according to my evil plans, I’ll see them again at Planet Desert Rock Weekend in Las Vegas. Good thing they rule. The 2019 show was in support of what’s still their most recent record, Tre (review here), and to their credit, vocalist Arnt O. Andersen still came out fully robed like a misfit drunkard priest, even in the heat of the lingering day. Much respect for that, never mind that they opened with “Salt the Earth.” While I might’ve known what to expect going in, unlike with so many of the bands this weekend who’ve been new to me (life bonus to learn), that didn’t make the going any less satisfying. Their self-titled debut (review here) turns 10 this year, but they wear the years easily in the fluidity of their groove, the way they’re both reverent and transgressive of the (almighty) blues, as well as classic heavy rock and probably three or four other microgenres. I could go on about that characteristic nuance — might be fun — but was content to bask in the comedowns and the pickups and follow where they led. To bottom-line it for you, if you’re somewhere this band is, ever, you want to see them. It’s as simple as that, and I’m grateful for the chances I’ve had (and will have) to do so. They capped with a crescendo of dually shredding guitar solos from Peter Svee and Torgeir Waldemar Engen, then still turned it back to the verse to get a couple last lines in. See them.

Scott Hepple and the Sun Band

Their name started appearing in fest announcements last Fall, and not that I’ve heard of every band who plays a given festival — obviously; seeing new bands was the thing all weekend — but there was definitely a curiosity there. They put out two self-released LPs before getting picked up by Rise Above/Popclaw, and if there’s ever been an ear you could trust, it’s Lee Dorrian’s. They’re young, steeped in garage rock and some sweet proto-heavy shuffle. Thick enough in tone to call heavy, but fleet in being able to keep things moving. The fact that the van has broken down, delaying their arrival here and relocating their set from the main stage to the smaller one earned them some sympathy points, but the truth is they didn’t need them. They pulled the crowd over from the (other) lawn and packed the small stage area where I’ve been hiding in the shade the whole day. I’m sure they sold some records after the set, and hopefully they can keep momentum on their side.

Dead Meadow

When you absolutely need to mellow the vibe, accept no substitutes. Dead Meadow, also fresh off releasing Voyager to Voyager (review here) this Spring on Heavy Psych Sounds, lost bassist Steve Kille to cancer last year. With founding principle Jason Simon on guitar/vocals and I’m pretty sure Mark Laughlin on drums, they did indeed have bass, but I don’t know who was providing it. The sound was there though, that warmth of bottom end that puts your brain in a bathtub. And Simon’s strum, fuzz, quiet-voiced delivery were as immersive as one would hope, so although Kille contributed to the new record, and regularly recorded the band as well, they sound like they’ll continue, which I take as good news. There’s still more day to go, but the chill was infectious, even at their most active. They’re not the inventors of heavygaze, but they might as well be, and frankly, the world needs the kind of drift they bring. So much of this era is intensity, furious, raging. Algorithms. Fascism. Dead Meadow fit just right by going the other way completely, and with Lance Gordon of Mad Alchemy’s oil lightshow, the psychedelia in their sound came through as a multi-sensory experience. They’re still a thrill to watch live, but it’s a quiet thrill. I was quietly thrilled accordingly.

Bushfire

Look, I already reviewed Bushfire once, but having seen and heard half the new record earlier in the day, I wasn’t about to miss the other half, not the least as it includes “Valley of the Freak,” which is about this fest and the people here. Bushfire played the first however-many years of Freak Valley, were a staple of those lineups, but kind of stepped back. Having them present their new full-length, even in two halves, felt fitting. They had a screen in front of the stage before they went on with an animated ouroboros, but took the screen away before they actually started. The projection stayed on and the effect worked. I assume some of those standing by me over by the craftbierhaus and the stage had seen Bushfire before, but I hadn’t until today.

The Sword

I could not tell you when the last time I saw The Sword was, but the prevailing memory I have of them live is wandering into a Relapse Records showcase at SXSW in their hometown of Austin, Texas, and watching a demo riff band lay waste to a show that I’m pretty sure featured Cephalic Carnage later on, but don’t quote me on that, because I was drunk and the only thing I remember for sure was The Sword throwing down a gauntlet for what was then the next generation of heavy rock. The ensuing 21 years and a breakup later (hooray for me, being old), The Sword have returned and claimed their place once again among headlining acts. Their evolution can be charted across their records, but on stage it was more about them being back, good times, and so on. Again, I didn’t stick around (I fly out early tomorrow afternoon and it’s two hours to Frankfurt airport), but I got to hear “Freya,” and that’s always a blast, and I put on the Rockpalast stream when I got back to the room to watch the end, and zero regrets. They seemed to be picking up where they left off, maybe a little more into it for the time away — to wit, they didn’t sound like they were about to break up — and definitely appreciative of the crowd. The Sword are among the most revered US heavy rock bands of the last 25 years, easily, and it’s a boon to the genre that they’re back at it.

—

I can’t believe how fucking ridiculously fortunate I am. It is beyond silly. Like I said once already, or like 10 times, I don’t know, it was an early flight in the morning, so I crashed out as quick as I could in order to be up at seven to shower, finish packing, etc. I may or may not have time for a full wrap-up post, but if I end up saying thanks to Jens, Alex, Marcus, Jara, Basti, Volker, Pete, Bill, Judith, Ralf, and all in the backstage for making me feel so welcome.

It’s a long year till FVF 2026 and one never knows what the future will bring, but if you take anything away from the glut of words that have shown up in this space over the previous three days, take that Freak Valley is something very, very special, and it’s not at all a coincidence that it sells out every year as soon as tickets go on sale. And it’s the people that make it. I’m pretty sure Bill said that in “Valley of the Freak.”

So, if I do or don’t have time for a proper epilogue, we’ll see, but as always, thank you to my wife, The Patient Mrs., for making this and everything else possible for me. Thank you to my mother, and to my sister, as always, for their unending, unconditional support.

And thank you for reading. Won’t be the last time this week I say it.

More pics after the jump.

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Last month it was announced that Danish psych-blues rockers Highway Child would reunite at Freak Valley Festival 2025 in June. It’s been a minute since the last word from the band — whose first two albums, 2008’s On the Old Kings Road (review here) and 2009’s Sanctuary Come (review here) were released through Elektrohasch Schallplatten; a third, self-titled full-length followed in 2011, and to-date, that’s the discography — but that strum at the head of “Lonelytime Blues” still rings like a clarion of garage-style heavy rock, bluesy enough to live up to its name and shuffling in its groove like the best of heavy ’70s rock while keeping its bluesy foundation in swing and mood such that they avoid sounding like Graveyard. Circa 2009, this was an accomplishment unto itself.

Indeed, it’s difficult for me to separate Highway Child — then comprised of vocalist Patrick Lykke Heinsøe, bassist Christian Norup, guitarist Paw Eriksen and drummer Andreas Henriksen — from the time circa 15 years ago when they came up. Considering how the rest of the 2010s would shake out, they were probably three or four years ahead of their time with the 11-track/36-minute first LP, not only getting a jump on the vinyl revival but on the ascent of a psychedelic bluesy sound. They weren’t the first to adopt the sound among their generation, but their take on On the Old Kings Road is rife with a sense of refresh, bringing together poppy Beatlesian bounce, some shove and melodic wisp inherited from turn-of-the-century desert rock as emphasized by Queens of the Stone Age, rad jangly basslines, soul and swing.

At the time, Highway Child were distinct from a lot of what Elektrohasch were releasing. The German imprint helmed by Stefan Koglek, also of the band Colour Haze, was at the time digging into the European underground to find the next generation of heavy psychedelic rock. Bands like Hypnos 69, BeenObscene, My Sleeping Karma, The Machine and The Kings of Frog Island had given the label a formidable roster of underground acts, soon to be bolstered by the woefully shortlived ascent of Sungrazer from the Netherlands.

Highway Child were a part of this movement while also being apart from it. As “Branded a Fool” dons an acoustic arrangement and a semi-Western strut, the band counteract the twisty heft of “Change Yourself,” but the sleaze of fuzz rocker “Highclass Bitch” — which let’s just say probably isn’t a song that gets written in this day and age; or at least gets a different title — builds to a solo-topped culmination that a sunnier piece like “Lovin’ Lovin'” or the rush of “Love for Sale” flesh out as an aspect of Highway Child‘s persona. This pulls together the bluesy vocal reach of “Gold” with its classy, somewhat restrained shuffle and the penultimate “Just Like You,” which takes the boogie and tambourine-for-extra-movement mentality of “Love for Sale” just before it and blows it out party-style with a stage-ready fiery blues jam, ready for the eponymous closer “Highway Child” to back it with firm declaration. However it’s ultimately defined in terms of vibe — and I’ll argue for it as a nascent version of what in the years since has taken shape as a heavy psych blues sound; kin to some of what Elektrohasch was doing at the time but on its own wavelength — the band brought vitality to the studio and a sense of variety to the songs.

As rockin’ a start as “Lonelytime Blues” and “Change Yourself” give it before “Branded a Fool” unplugs with prescience for “High” at the tracklisting’s middle, On the Old Kings Road is never only about one thing. As the centerpiece, “High” rolls out with harmonica hypnotics to complement the vocals and acoustic guitar, and where “Lovin’ Lovin'” departs into ’60s-type psych rock “Oooh”s and such — thrillingly holding its rhythm all the while — that shift underscores the manner in which Highway Child let each song become its own thing.

It’s not that the album isn’t fluid in terms of how the tracks are arranged. Just the opposite. Each piece brings another look, another element, sometimes just a tempo change or a break, that adds something to the entirety. As such, the full course of On the Kings Road becomes richer, and though the band never quite had a penchant for the same kind of molten heavy exploration as some of their peers — thinking of a band like The Machine, who at this point where more directly jam-based, or the jazzier aspects of BeenObscene — hindsight makes On the Old Kings Road feel all the more brazen for just how much it stands out as individualized in the end. The context that just a couple years later, Elektrohasch would stand behind the first All Them Witches record and ignite an influential course of the subgenre that continues to flesh out, brings to light just how much potential their was in psych-blues at the time. Or, if you want to put it to a different label, consider The Devil and the Almighty Blues.

But the dictates of trend are what they are, and Highway Child‘s tenure as a band went the way it did. As to the story of their reunion, in January they were announced for Kun For Forrykte festival — Freak Valley was announced after; there’s also a club show this August in Aalborg — and had this to say about it: “So, we met up at the end of last year and had some fun. That turned to be quite a night, so we kinda decided it was time for us to blast some ears off again.” Simple as that. Band who’s not a band decides to be a band again.

I do not know who’s in Highway Child at this point in terms of personnel, whether it’s all the same players or not, but the basic question at this point is how much of a reunion we’re talking about, and that’s probably not a question the band can answer until these shows are done and a response is gauged. Reissues or a new album? Slow down. It’s true to the organic style of the music they play that the band would take their time, see how these shows go, and then take it from there rather than enact some broad-looking 10-year plan or some such. Highway Child will get back on the stage, I assume playing at least some of these songs. Whatever happens subsequent, that’s good news.

As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.

—

At the risk of being honest, I feel more than a bit like I’m limping to the finish of the week. Literally as I hurt my ankle the other day and figuratively on an existential level. There was a bunch of news that I’m behind on, from a Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol video to a new Candlemass EP and the first single from the Temple Fang record, but I woke up yesterday morning to start writing the Kryptograf review I’d planned to put up today — obviously it didn’t happen — and just couldn’t get it started.

Admittedly, I’d woken up at 3AM and my head was elsewhere, but I stared at the screen for like 45 minutes between being distracted by other stuff and decided that was enough torturing myself for an album that’s actually fun and let it go. If I can find a day, I’ll write it up, because it’s a good record and there’s a decent amount to say, but if I don’t get there I’ve saved a space for it in the next Quarterly Review.

That happens three weeks from Monday. Starts April 7 and runs seven days to Tuesday, April 15. That lets it end right as I’m leaving for Roadburn, which will be dumb interms of keeping up with announcements or whatever else is going on in the universe other than writing about 10 records a day or covering what will be one of the busiest festivals I attend this year, but the writing needs to get done and I don’t have anyone to blame except myself for my own stupid scheduling. It’ll work out.

Busy weekend coming up, at least for the kid. She had a playdate yesterday, a kid came over, and it was fine, and there’s another playdate tomorrow morning and then Sunday is a birthday party. Tonight Brant Bjork is in PA and tomorrow he’s in Brooklyn. It’s sold out tonight and I don’t know about tomorrow. Fair enough. Would be cool to see the Trio after catching them in Budapest last summer, but I don’t think it’s doable. Alas.

Last weekend we had The Patient Mrs.’ mother’s 70th birthday party, and so a lot of this week was dedicated to recovering from that, so I guess it makes sense I’m exhausted, but I ended up taking yesterday for some downtime after banging out the news posts for today — plenty of time to do that when you wake up at 3AM — and hung out with The Patient Mrs. and that did me a world of good as it will. The evening I was nodding out on the couch and she was at a school board meeting, the kid playing Mario Odyssey, tired from her playdate. At least if I’m limping into the weekend, I’m not alone. Next week is The Patient Mrs.’ Spring Break. Such as it is, relief is on the way.

Okay, time to punch out. I hope you have a great and safe weekend. I’ll be back Monday with more shenanigans and old news stories you’ve already seen the press releases for. Don’t forget to hydrate and watch your head in the meantime.

FRM.

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I’ll admit it’s been a minute, but if you remember circa 2008/’09, Danish heavy rockers Highway Child released two banger records through Elektrohasch. I need to revisit, and will sometime in the next few Fridays, but a reunion adds to the appeal of the already badass and already long-since sold out Freak Valley 2025, which will also feature a stop from The Sword as they celebrate their reunion likely with a European summer tour, and new additions Battlesnake, Häxer and DZ Deathrays, who’ll bring some of that Australian punk energy last year have highlighted in Amyl and the Sniffers and C.O.F.F.I.N. — it’s a kick in the ass but one you need.

It’s a strong lineup, though, with Motorpsycho, Windhand, Dead Meadow, The Devil and the Almighty Blues, Early Moods, Kombynat Robotron, Travo and so on. Hell, Wedge are going to be there, as I also very much hope to be. I don’t have my flight booked yet, and I never call it 100 percent until I’m on the plane, but this is one I’m looking forward to seeing, and as always, thanks to Jens Heide and the Freak Valley crew for having me, as well as for once again having The Obelisk logo on the poster. Being in the company of Rockpalast and Rock Hard magazine there continues to be humbling.

Here’s the latest:

FREAK VALLEY FESTIVAL 2025 – BAND ANNOUNCEMENT!

Get ready, Freaks! This year’s lineup is bringing the heat with an exclusive Germany show from none other than THE SWORD – heavy riff lords returning to melt faces!

But that’s not all – Danish psych-rockers HIGHWAY CHILD reunite for an exclusive Germany show, a rare chance to witness their magic live!

Also joining the madness: the serpentine shredlords BATTLESNAKE, occult doom sorcerers HÄXER, and the high-voltage energy of Aussie punk-rockers DZ DEATHRAYS.

This one’s gonna be legendary. See you in the Valley!

https://www.facebook.com/freakvalley
https://www.instagram.com/freakvalleyfestival/
http://www.rockfreaks.de/
http://www.freakvalley.de/

Highway Child, “Just Like You” live in Denmark, 2011

With the early fuzz tone of the guitar and the insistent rhythm, it’s uncanny how much “In the End” from Highway Child’s second album through Elektrohasch Schallplatten, Sanctuary Come, sounds like “Hey Bulldog” from The Beatles’ Yellow Submarine. With the McCartneyist piano bounce (transposed onto an organ, interestingly) of the memorable “When the Sun Burned the Ground” following immediately, the record very quickly becomes a mystery tour of the most magical variety, offering moments of Lennon, McCartney and Lennon/McCartney as filtered through retro tones and psychedelic tropes that, while sounding vintage, are actually modern innovations to the genre.

“When the Sun Burned the Ground” might be the highlight of Sanctuary Come, but even if it is, it’s only because of the function it serves in the side one medley of songs. Opener “Red, White and Blue” (gone before you know it, so smoothly does it lead into the next song), “In the End,” “When the Sun Burned the Ground” and the title track take the Abbey Road approach and bleed into one another while at the same time introducing vastly different musical ideas. The title track takes the hopping piano notes already used and puts them atop a droning fuzz riff with swirling noises to accompany. Only the silence that follows “Sanctuary Come” lets you know you’re into another phase of the record.

All well and good, but it’s worth noting how much of a departure it is for the Danish four-piece. Last year’s On the Old Kings Road debut felt more garage rock and less lush than many of these tracks, and was playful in a less mature or sophisticated way. The songwriting on that album was good, but Sanctuary Come feels put together on a different level entirely. Not only is the band worrying about guitar, bass and drums, but organs, guest spots from the likes of Lorenzo Woodrose (he shows up on “Turn Me On”) and other dashes here and there of Sgt. Pepper to throw into the mix. “Once is Once too Much,” the first song after the medley ends, takes a Lennon-solo feel and works it into their already established frame of psych. Vocalist Patrick Heinsøe, for what it’s worth, does a more than respectable job adapting to the demands of the song.

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As soon as I turned on On the Old Kings Road — originally released last year, now serving as the Elektrohasch debut from Danish garage rock four-piece Highway Child — and heard the powerful brew of “Lonelytime Blues,” with its potent mixture of The Beatles‘ “Oh! Darling” and Queens of the Stone Age‘s “The Sky is Fallin’,” I knew this was the kind of band who, when they’re at the bar talking to your girlfriend after their set, you don’t get up and go to the bathroom saying, “I’ll be right back.” They’ll be gone and you’ll be left with a tab that — wouldn’t you know it? — includes a not insignificant amount of packaged goods to go. No way man, if you gotta hit the head, you hold it. You’ll feel better later.

They take dirty blues and the chic swagger of modern ’70s revival indie and throw in just enough testosterone to make it realistic and basically, what they really want is to make out. As the “Sit on my face and tell me that you love me, come on” chorus (accompanied by some guitar oddly reminiscent of The Talking Heads — it’s weird, but it works in the song) of “Highclass Bitch” attests, the raunch on On the Old Kings Road is thrown in with a kind of childish charm that — given a considerable boost by the catchy songwriting and overall simplistic nature of the tracks — works out to a fun balance. Not one I’d play at the family reunion, but it’s perfect as a catalyst for one of those sunglasses-wearing moments where you’re driving and you feel like you’re the coolest motherfucker on the road even if none of the other cars know it. Even if no one’s looking. Even if you drive a Volvo.

The whiteboy blues get acoustic on “Gold” and “High” and earlier on the John Lennon-esque “Branded a Fool.” “High” has a classic rock influence I can’t quite place, but is a wholesome, almost folksy, track that shows more than just the horndog side of Highway Child. Patrick Heins?e turns in a soulful vocal performance on it and the untitled eighth cut, leading right into the classic guitar groove of “Love for Sale,” with a well-geared solo by six-stringer Paw Eriksen just after the one-minute mark. A closing title track comes off thicker than most of what came before, with genuine fuzz on the guitar and a driving snare from drummer Andreas Henriksen, and though there isn’t much structurally innovative about On the Old Kings Road, the band is comfortable in their style and able to play around where others might stick to straight riffing and soloing. That might be their strongest asset.

Rounded out by bassist Christian Norup, who offers low end stomp to the single-ready “Change Yourself,” Highway Child are the kind of band that could be a huge success in the States with the right kind of budgeting and hookups. They’re musically accessible and stylish, but still edgy and raw in all the right spots. There are parts of On the Old Kings Road just waiting for an iPod commercial and parts that will drunk you under the table and smoke your lungs into tar. But just be careful, because whatever mood they’re in at the time, they’re always in the mood for your special lady.

Highway Child on MySpace

Elektrohasch Schallplatten