Review | Tigerman WOAH! - Up South Vol. III
There will be zero objectivity in this post. Anyone who knows me has heard at least one tirade about how great Tigerman WOAH! is, and how you absolutely must go see them live if possible. And, before I go any further, let me reiterate that. See them live. The album is really good. But their live show is incredible. It devolves immediately into a sweaty, beardy, foot-stomping explosion, and if you go to one of their shows and don’t have fun, you may not be technically alive.
The song I’m featuring with this post, “My Grave,” opened a show they played (actually, at last year’s Rumble – where they were egregiously robbed, if you want my opinion), and they walked in through the crowd chanting the opening lines. Getting shivers just thinking about it.
But right now they’re on the road, heading down to SXSW. They’ll be back – while their hearts may be in Georgia, they are based out of Lynn, MA – but if you want to hear them right now, you ought to pick up their brand-new album, Up South Vol. III. It is – try to keep up – their third album, which builds on everything Vols. I and II brought you, both sonically and thematically. All the shouted harmonies and whoa-ohs you could ever want, in service of both songs of drunken debauchery and righteous condemnation anthems. They’ve clearly got an interest in telling stories from history, as well – on this album, that is handled capably by “Babydolls” – but pedants they are not. They may well be 4 of the partiest people I have ever clapped eyes on.
It’s also worth mentioning that they just cheated death in a collapsing-stage incident in Virginia. You’d better watch yourself, Virginia. Try to squish our bands? Are you sure you want to mess with a city that just broke a snow record? The level of cabin fever craziness we can bring to that fight should not be underestimated.
