A hot, fat bucket of garage, '60s soul, and rock rock rock 'n' roll that tantalizes the jaded tongue with potent drops of the Kinks, the Detroit Cobras, and the Sonics that's right, the Sonics (why yes, it is a strangely similar name). The suavo-seductive attack formation of intense Sinatra-esque love-stare proportions assumed by the Thrills on the album cover shows they're into the "retro cool" crap which wouldn't be that bad if it wasn't retro cool without much imagination. On one hand, the Thrills can play their asses off Michael Johnny Walker's guitar careens, clangs and etches lewd suggestions into your forehead with laser-beam precision and the production on Get Up! is top-notch (very clean and heavy), but don't expect any lyrical insights beyond yayuh yayuh yayuh and baybee baybee baybee. The Sonic Thrills are a garage rock bar band, albeit a shit-hot good one, which is to say they're as boring as they are exciting. Without a doubt, though, the Thrills hold their own with the Dirtbombs and all those nasty Detroit knuckle-grinders, and they're definitely better than nine-tenths of Arizona's musical wheezes.
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