“Um, that might be the best version we’ve got. We recorded it on home equipment,” says Stuart Holt, the drummer for Richmond’s Sportsbar, when asked whether Style could obtain a version of this song in better audio fidelity. Silly question. After all, this is a trio (guitarist Kemper Blair and bassist Cliff Boyd fill out the roster) that released its debut record last year on cassette. One of the tape’s standouts: This propulsive anthem about nonresidency and magic potions. It’s a singular achievement, a gnarly tangle of snotty rock ‘n’ roll chest bumping that can make the unsuspecting bounce up and down, toss hair and do that frightening white-man lip bite. Find out more at the band’s website, wearesportsbar.com.
