On Top, the third album by Rye Coalition, is a good, healthy dose of no-bullshit, no-frills, whiskey-and-women-loving rock and/or roll. It's as simple as that. There's no intellectual postering or posing that can or, dare I say, should, be done to this record. Rock and roll is an easy beast to make, after all. Just mix together plenty of "drugs" (more or less to taste) and a nice smidgen of sex--sexuality, sexual prowess, sexual suggestiveness, or downright nastyness, it doesn't really matter what kind of sex you throw in, it's all good, and the results are the same. A living, breathing, rock and roll beast has just been created. Pass the cigars, you're now a proud parent of the Rock!
From the first moments of "One Thousand Daughters Hotter Than A Thousand Suns," you hear it. Those rifts. Those Angus Young-reminiscent, classic-rock radio pounding anthem-esque tunes. For the next 45-minutes, you're going to be steering straight into traditional hard-rock territory. Not that you won't mind the ride, though. If, like me, you occasionally like rippin' it up, tearin' it out, and kickin' out the mutha-fuckin' jams, then there's really no further need to look any farther than Rye Coalition. Clinic, White Stripes, and The Strokes are "revisiting" rock and roll? Fuck that. Rye Coalition aren't talking about how they're part of a "movement" that is "revisiting" rock and roll, because they're simply too busy playing rock and roll.
If you like sounds that range from AC/DC-style blasts of pure-rock heaven, to the slightly more modern, certainly hard-rockin' sounds of Les Savy Fav and Tight Bros. From Way Back When, then this is simply the next album you should purchase for your next roadtrip. On Top is the best beer-swillin', Interstate-Highway road-trip stereo-blastin', air-drumming, air-guitaring R.O.C.K. record I've heard in a while, and God bless 'em for simple pleasures.