The Dog Indiana
The Dog Indiana
Dog, since time immemorial has been tamed by man to be his best friend. However, wild animals can’t always can be tamed. The same can be said for the local Victorian garage rock trio, The Dog Indiana. A serious force to be reckoned with, their jarring riffs and high energy distortion yells at you till you fall to your knees and become a believer that rock and roll is in fact, not dead. With crashing cymbal slaps from Santiago Garcia, slippery bass licks laid out for you like a platter full of scrumptious worms from bassment chef Tom Service, and Clark Ridge laying down the power chords and screaming like if he doesn’t crack the sound barrier soon the whole world will collapse, the boys let everyone know that Indiana was in fact named after the dog.
Now, it’s one thing to be loud, another to be loud and angry, but to be loud, angry, and fun? That’s a triple threat right there my friends. The fierce raw sound of The Dog Indiana permeates through the listener’s skin, yelling at you to roll over and howl. Their exciting stage presence and heavy crunching tones surrounding garage punk rock riffs is really something to behold as the dance floor lights up without fail with sweaty bodies and tearing elbows. Even if the unfiltered emotion and energy is not exactly your tasse de thé, their sound is still something to experience for music lovers of any genre.
Clark writes exciting, dynamic music, with various tempo changes and off cued deliveries, and his voice! Jesus must hear him in the heavens. It’s raw and full of tenacity, like screaming is going to go out of style, luckily for us it never will. Santiago’s lightning fast paws and rhythmic bouncing drum rolls hone him into some kind of out of body trance, where his arms and legs run around him in circles, but his face, could caress that of a king's maiden. He is completely un-waivered by the fact that Tom is shoving his massive fretless bass into the air like Hermes, calling to the gods. Toms use of effects, particularly a Wah pedal, provides the fuel for Clark to move around the neck and venture off into transient scales, sending screeches and wails through a heavily distorted telecaster. With songs like Ride Sally Ride (The Pale Horse of Apocalypse) and The German Invasion of Poland (1939) The Dog Indiana isn’t afraid to let loose a little inner angst, and open up the book to the seam between being unheard and political. (Also, they got some great song titles.)