To dismiss PowerSolo as pure goof rock is tempting. After all, the title of the Danish band's first full-length, It's RACEDAY ... And Your Pussy Is GUT!, offers little reason to take the band seriously; sure enough, portions of it can be labeled mere overdone silliness. But it's impossible not to see something more in the band -- the group is the aural equivalent of that friend whose sense of humor is sometimes supremely embarrassing, but who's worth sticking with nonetheless.
It's RACEDAY ... is very un-Continental-sounding swamp rock. A good portion of it sounds akin to something out of Old Time Relijun's catalog, or an update of the earliest rock 'n' roll, just after the blues had met country. Lyrically, the three-man outfit takes on all things American with what seems a mix of jeering mockery, fascinated admiration, and puzzling absurdism. Some songs ("Hillbilly Child," "NASCAR") smack of straight-up satire and are ultimately a bit dull. But there are gems, too: The album's opening cut, "Baby, You Ain't Lookin' Right," is a straightforward great rock song, and the country ballad "Broken Wings" is a clever and ambiguous parody.
PowerSolo trucks into town Tue., Sept. 18, supporting Jon Spencer's Heavy Trash, the band's labelmates on Crunchy Frog. The redneck jokes might feel tired now and then (or maybe I'm miscalculating -- the show is right down the street from the Double Wide Grill, after all), but there's something to this band that goes beyond the shtick and will likely gain a good bit of attention, with or without the goof factor.
PowerSolo with Heavy Trash. 8 p.m. Tue., Sept. 18 (doors at 6 p.m.). Club Café, 56-58 S. 12th St., South Side. $14 ($16 day of show). 412-431-4950 or www.clubcafelive.com
