Hate to shit all over such a purist, contrarian rock-n-roller that many should swear by, but Pickett just sucks at lyrics. Corny color by numbers sketches of the old west "America On Horseback" and "Marlboro Country" seem to serve merely to attempt alt-country cred. "All Love All Gone" goes no further than its chorus 'all love all faith all hope all gone' but to add more verses unworthy of of your typical high school goth. "Heads Up Heals Down" a greasy Stones guitar riff is paired with tired entry-level double entendres 'here comes the freight train, here comes that old king snake / here comes that old milk shake, here comes that choo choo / here comes that old hot rod' - whatever can these be referring to? "Liked It A Lot" asks 'why did you fuck him, why did you suck him off, why did you love him, why did you talk in bed' - unpretentious or not even trying? While I'm able to get past atrocious harmonies (some reviewers say occasional) and mangled guitar tuning, stupid lyrics can stick in my head more readily than a good riff, and Pickett has them in spades. Slide-happy screamers "On The River In '59"**** (from Wilderness) "Slow Death"**** (early single and cover) and droning rocker "In The Wilderness" (also from Wilderness) avoid these cliches, or at least paint familiar pictures with a few more brush strokes. And live tracks "American Travelust" and "Phantom Train" pull out some killer Stones licks and hey-heys, and cover of "Shake Some Action"**** is sung pretty rough, but the melodic guitar lines show a creative ambition absent from most of Pickett's songs. About half of the compilation skids along as a convincing homage to the Stones (and sometimes ZZ Top) and not much else, and almost a third is rendered unlistenable by lyrics that the word 'amateur' doesn't sufficiently describe. Not all bad by any means, but not essential either.
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