Concord
Bottom Lounge
Lovers Lane

It’s a hooootenanny!

| November 16, 2010 | 0 Comments

Critics, stepping all over themselves to discredit Hinder, often overlook a crucial fact about the band’s sound.

The high-compression recording techniques, penchant for reveling in the good times, rebellious streak masking highly conservative principles – Hinder is a country act. Much the same way Nashville bands weather criticism for peddling Southern-accented pop-rock, the acoustic guitars that underpin most of the soon-to-be-released The All American Nightmare (Universal Republic; Dec. 7th) point to Hinder’s chief influence. “Hey Ho,” the putdown of a hip-hop-listening lover, is merely Alan Jackson’s “Don’t Rock The Jukebox” retrofitted with an AC/DC riff and mention of a Guns N’ Roses T-shirt. No matter how ardently Austin Winkler protests that he doesn’t give a fuck, he always seems like he’d fight anyone slamming his hometown, dissing the girl he just picked up, or standing in front of the TV while the game’s on. When Hinder come to town, it’s nothin’ but the rootin’ tootin’est best darn western time to be had! (Thursday@Austin’s Fuel Room with My Darkest Days and Default.)

— Steve Forstneger

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