Sounding for all the world like Johnny Cash riding a lightning bolt (a la Slim Pickens) into the well-paved swamplands of Washington, DC, Shortstack is the brainchild of Pennsylvania refugees Adrian Carroll and Scott Gursky. After moving to Cap City in 2000, Adrian's serrated fingerpicking and Scott's reliable drum work soon caught the attention of upright bass-player Michael Pahn. After a few demos, Mike Maran (Scott's former bandmate from The Ruby Dare) joined on lap steel. Together, they've built a tight, slick, beer-swillin' delivery that's so razor sharp, they turned out their 13 song debut in just four days.

Their label would like us to classify these guys as "doom country", but while the lyrics may be hardened, the music is far from solemn. There's a lot of hillbilly blues in Shortstack's sound -- a syrupy, smoky jugband gusto -- but perhaps as a result of early punk and classic rock influences, Shortstack seem bigger, stronger and faster than those older styles. Upright basslines that once beckoned from a dark country road now gather swing and gravitas while bouncing off the redwoods of Bohemian Grove. Ghostly, arabesque guitars cry out for the splintered accompaniment of boots shuffling through sawdust on fat pine planks. Liquor, sweat and sorrow drip from these howling tracks, and we are encouraged to set it all ablaze at the giant rockabilly jag of our choice.

Is Shortstack a one-trick pony? Well, yeah. Not only that, but it's an old trick -- one that once wove its way through saloons and radio stations. Shortstack get away with it because they make no pretensions otherwise; they are craftsmen, indebted to their predecessors and working to live up to their standards, while still striving to make the music their own. To hear this music performed well today is a gift, and rarely is it alloyed with so much clarity and exhilaration. For Shortstack, there is honor and joy in stomping and hollering, even when the hazards of the swampland you call home are found on the beltway rather than the bayou.