Fumpin' R&B rock like this can never be a bad thing, but there are degrees of not-bad.
In this case, the degrees will be calibrated by your tolerance of yelling – the guitar and horn sort of yelling, as well as the vocal sort – and your ability to enjoy a hoary old riff played slightly too fast for classical R&B coolth in support of a barely there song. Let's not be coy: energy levels are high and Black Joe's intent is malevolent (and his Austin, TX address is unarguable). But attitood ain't every damn thing.
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