Ghost on the highway schooner rock, a reliable pair of cantos, buoyed by a Broncos win and knowing a thing or two about the inherent use-value of The Gun Club. Care have been a staple of Brisbane's reticent underground for many years and its both a relief and treat to hear them captured so well across this debut LP. This record is all the 120kmph swagger of Beasts of Bourbon; open chords, pentatonics as a bar stool, a tempo rooted in prying lil baggies open during 36 degree 80%humidity picnics – the hummus has long cried its last tear and i dont have much an appetite anyhow. Care is enlightened urban bumpkinry, the band playing out back of that venue which no longer exists. They're country rock n roll tinged with just a smidge of gothic amphetamine wisdom. People too often forget that Tracy Pew wore a cowboy hat. This album is dense with dusty anthems that sound completely apart from anything being made around Australia at the minute. That's not to say the palette here is new, but that Care simply has better taste than most of the pooey dawgs who join a post-punk band as a means for yet another situationship. On debut, Care looks like they belong out there. Big carries off the ruck, hard-nosed stuff, journeypeople whose patience and perseverance has paid off deluxe.