SUPAGROUP

In a just world, the members of SUPAGROUP would be doing some hard time in the clink for their willful and aggravated humping of Bon Scott's remains, and when they got out, they'd spend a few years on probation for the dipshit VILLAGE PEOPLE thrift store getups they're self-consciously wearing on the back of "Fire For Hire". But even a just world needs a little bit of dirty pool, and the unabashed ass-shakin' rock the band cranks out would definitely earn them a presidential pardon in that universe, hopefully in time for the Inaugural Ball, or at least next Friday's battle of the bands.

What I'm trying to say is, don't hate SUPAGROUP because they're to rock and roll what Branson, Missouri is to Hank Sr. They're a comic strip come to life, a hard-rockin' combo without an original strut in their playbook, but they're so all-fired giddy about their hammy rock star fuckery that they're still a damn good time. So many bands try this AC/DC less-is-more thing, and fuck it all up, because they can't keep shit simple — one of the oldest, and most-ignored, rock and roll commandments is that knowing when not to play is more important than knowing what to play. SUPAGROUP keeps it simple, and the elemental groove of what they're doing causes Pavlovian beer-drinking and foot-tapping responses whether it's in a dive bar or a hockey arena.

The homage gets a little too close for the band's own good at times — the sly, raunchy "Jailbait" ("she was suckin' me in / I had her covered in sin") finds singer Chris Lee slinking around the verses with Bon swagger to the point where it's just distracting, while the riffs in the title track and "Promised Land" have Malcolm Young's cig burns and coffee cup rings on them. But again, you can't stay too mad at SUPAGROUP for too long, because they're not only cheeky enough to dive whole-hog into this sound, they're crafty and earnest enough to do a good job of it. Songs about how much rocking rocks may be trite and silly, but they always seem to go down smooth, and they live or die on chutzpah and conviction – both of which SUPAGROUP possess by the big, stinking, smirking bucketful.

Not much needs to be said about it, which isn't a bad thing — you either like it when an act buys into the goofiest excesses of rock shtick, or you don't. Bands have been traveling this particular AC/DC-trampled path for years, from RHINO BUCKET and DIRTY LOOKS to LEADFOOT and BROKEN TEETH, with varying degrees of authenticity and individuality. SUPAGROUP are probably the silliest, and the most over-the-top, but they're arguably the most fun, too, and it may be physically impossible not to move when they start rockin'. Essential, no, but delicious in that sugar-bomb cereal kind of way.