After the first song of Lil Daggers’ self-titled album, ‘Wasting’ there was only one image in my head, an awful drunken Kasabian playing for a bar full of scummy gents and scantily clad ladies. Lil Daggers have a rock that rolls without aim, scratching and cutting anything that comes close.
The main ear-sore of the album is the vocals which seem to be looking for a Cobian drawl, but results in an off-pitch nasal dribble that thankfully manages to disguise some of the causeless lyrics. This is a huge shame because the band the vocals sit on are excellent. They know and understand the feel of their music, their slow gritty rock; dirty synth chords are knocked about by catchy rambling guitar riffs while the drums pull the music along like a truckload of bricks.
Finally, after half an album, I adjust to the vocals as they are washed away by reverb and I can enjoy the rest of the band. The sounds are all real, no producer-magic, just straight up lo-fi rock ‘n roll, and it pleases me. I walk around one evening listening to this album in a rather sour mood, eyeballing every opponent that crosses me on the street, and the album seems to support my aggression to everything and everyone. Lil Daggers may not be the best album in the world, but it likes you when you’re angry.