Dine Alone Records
The Sheepdogs’ Changing Colours album is an appalling waste of money unless you have a passion for hollow lyrics, detached vocals, and cheap knockoffs of the actual rock gods.
I wanted to be a fan. The Sheepdogs have such a cool, laid-back way about them. Their luscious locks and bodacious beards — like exact replicas of my father as a young man in the late 60’s to mid 70’s — and the solos are damn respectable. In all fairness, “Cool Down” and “Esprit Des Corps” might even be songs worth listening to again. With that said, the niceties end here.
I’m unsure of how The Sheepdogs got their hands on them, but I’m nearly certain this album consists entirely of the lyrics from songs I wrote when I was 6\six — “S-S-S-Saturday night and the feeling’s right,” “I ain’t cool, what can I do?” Come on. (Note: the exact wording of these quotes may be slightly incorrect as it was too painful to listen to the songs a second time.) The lyrics would be best sent straight to the garburator, but then the next problem would take the spotlight: the whole album might be mistaken for one single dreadfully-long
Opening the album with “Nobody” does inspire a little hip swaying and a craving for some hoppy brew — as pointed out by my roommate, it’s got an essence of Bruce Springsteen mixed with CCR. After 30 seconds the enjoyment ends, however, and the near-fifty-minute agitation ensues. If you like The Doors, then weep while you hear their sound recycled into “The Big Nowhere.” Fan of Led Zeppelin? Eat your heart out and suffer through an almost-cover with “I’ve Got a Hole Where My Heart Should Be.” Is that Johnny Cash I’m hearing? Nope. Sadly, it’s the Sheepdog’s squawking out “I’m Just Waiting for What’s Mine.”
Save yourself some cash and order Cards Against Humanity’s $6 box of actual shit; it’s the same thing for half the price.