The first thing you hear on the Allah-Las’ self-titled debut LP sounds like a distant wave, or maybe a spring reverb amplifier head being jostled about in the studio.
Whatever it is, it hardly feels accidental. The Allah-Las are more than just California boys, they’re West Coast avatars. The record’s 12 songs are sun-bleached two- or three-minute gems dressed up in barre chord garage rock . . .
Only the good shit. Aquarium Drunkard is powered by its patrons. Keep the servers humming and help us continue doing it by pledging your support.
To continue reading, become a member or log in.