Endrick and the Sandwiches 2018
On a trip out of Montreal with a prospect of rocking the world off its hinges, Canadian noisemakers gently go for the jugular.
As far as eponymous albums go, there’s always a sort of statement, yet it’s hard to believe this lot care about any of that, because Endrick and his coterie simply do what they do best, which is playing the blues in many of the genre’s forms. Slower or faster, deadpan or excitedly: no matter how the band deliver the goods, the goods are as edible as the group’s name suggests.
From the relentless Delta ripple of “Ho Daddy Ho” that sets the record’s tone with its catchy call-and-response to the troubled lullaby of “Pretty Cool” that reverts the album’s vibe to warm reverie, there’s a tasty sax-smeared rumble for Endrick to lay over his electric licks and smile-revealing vocals. The resulting effect could boil down to a sad-eyed glitter rock – despite the chilling sincerity of momentum-gaining “Riverside” – if not for the gritty, albeit detailed, twang of Greg McEvoy’s Telecaster, and the presence of merry R’n’B numbers, even though instrumental “Endy’s Strut” finds groovy swagger in retro-funk, and “Market Of Love” edges too close to a Mick’n’Keef sleaze.
However, while “Anie” manages to tap into a non-austere Son House, “Montréal Boogie” – sung in French, of course – should make the listener shake their hips to the ensemble’s frenetic filigree and the singer’s cheerful yelps. Still, “The Well Known Dead” has a suitably camp drama about it, except for in its guitar department, before the galloping “The Devil Does” kicks the dirt once again. Here’s the devil you know… or, at least, must know from now on.