Album Review – Whiskey Myers – “Whomp Whack Thunder”

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photo: Jay Blakesberg


Southern Rock (#562) on the Country DDS

Whiskey Myers didn’t get the memo that the world has moved on from the days of uninhibited rock and roll, especially when it’s dipped in a batter seasoned with seven herbs and spices, and fried up Southern style. A few short years ago, simply being in possession of music like this might get you sent to HR, or shadowbanned on certain social media platforms.

But Whiskey Myers is here to proclaim that it’s not just country music that needs saving. Someone should stand up tall and puff their chest out for good old American rock and roll, and they’re a good or better candidate to do so as any. So coin yourself an onomatopoeia, and let the guitars roar. Welcome ladies and gentlemen to Whomp Whack Thunder.

If we’re being honest, a little trepidation preceded this album. When it was announced the reigning Country Music Antichrist Jay Joyce would be assuming the position behind the knobs and faders for this project, some feared the worst. Joyce has a sordid history of turning our favorite mainstream country performers into pop and rock acts.

But with Whiskey Myers, that ship already sailed years ago. We’re lucky if we get anything country-sounding from them these days, and they’ve always been more of a rock band. And since they enter the studio with their own songs and all the personnel to play them, it insulates them from the worst of the Jay Joyce effect.


Whomp Whack Thunder is just as good or better of a Whiskey Myers album as you can land on thumbing through a CD or vinyl collection. It’s also very much a Whiskey Myers album, with Cody Cannon singing his guts out, John Jeffers and Cody Tate awakening the rock gods on guitar, Jamey Gleaves on bass, Tony Kent on keys, and Jeff Hogg pounding the war drums.

This album is like a tribute or a love letter to rock and roll, and the lifestyle thereof. There’s an ode to cacophonous self-destruction in the song “Tailspin.” There’s songs about life on the road in “I Got To Move” and “Ramblin’ Jones.” There’s a song about the type of wild women you might meet along the way in “Midnight Woman.” Then “Rock N Roll” just comes right out and preaches about what Whiskey Myers personify on the rest of the record.

Speaking of songs though, Whiskey Myers sticks pretty close to the well-worn themes of rock music on this one, which isn’t entirely out-of-character, though you do expect one or two more introspective moments that you don’t really get on this album. “Rowdy Days” does try to tell the other side of the story of an aging rock musician. “Monsters” looks to vanquish the imaginary adversaries in our own minds, but isn’t entirely novel either.

But Whomp Whack Thunder is still an excellent listening record and a hell of a good time, prone to causing speeding tickets on daily commutes, or the need to explain to your wife that you weren’t standing on the living room couch playing air guitar, but trying to brush a cobweb off the ceiling. This is music to trash a hotel room to, and hurl the TV into the pool. The album arguably reaches its anthemic peak with the song “Icarus” about refusing to give up or be counted out.

Sometimes even a strong country fan seeks out a country-adjacent change of pace. As a regular edition on the country festival circuit and proud compatriots of the Texas music scene, Whiskey Myers and Whomp Whack Thunder is a good option, even if it might lead you to some bad behavior and regrettable life choices like the best in rock and roll does.

8.1/10

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