Music articles around the theme of cult bands whose talent and musical output dwarfs their mass recognition are nothing new. In the ’90s, many journalists were tripping over each other writing such articles about bands like Kyuss.
But, in 2025, especially with the advent of social media, it is really hard, if not impossible, to write with such a provocative title. The invisibility factor has gone down exponentially since the early ’90s pre-internet.
Sure, relatively speaking, not too many people know bands like The Black Rainbows, Dozer, or King Buffalo, but it would be ridiculous to pen something attaching them to any deep underground status–all those bands are major players in the global stoner/doom/psych scene.
For me, the only band that is worthy of such recognition is Richmond, Virginia’s Throttlerod.
To add even more mystery and intrigue as to why that is, the Throttlerod debut album Eastbound and Down (2000) CANNOT be streamed anywhere. In fact, even trying to score a physical copy of that album (only in CD format) is near next to impossible.
S. Patrick Brooks, who is the host of The Heavy Underground Farm Report just grabbed a copy on Amazon from some store in Toledo, Ohio.
You might say, “No big deal”, as many lesser-known bands have musical outputs that go out of print.
This was no ordinary debut album. In my humble opinion, it is the greatest debut album by any rock band of the 21st century.
A simple definition of the Throttlerod sound would be Southern Rock, which would terribly undersell their sound. Damn straight, there is some Southern influence. But what this debut album really is, is driving through the swampy backroads of moonshine country at illegal speeds with the whole thing crashing at the unique intersection of Lynyrd Skynyrd and Motörhead.
Even just three songs into this album, you want to day drink yourself into an evening barfight. The whole album is a testimonial to the raw, dirty, unhinged, and gritty rock and roll that defined bands like MC5 and The Stooges.
Unfortunately, you will have to take my word on all of this, as the album just isn’t available anymore.
So, what happened next?
Well, the band released Hell And Highwater in 2003, and my god, was there zero fall-off from their debut? In fact, the songwriting strongly hinted at the band expanding on their sound–everything from the vocal delivery to the guitar work. Been Wrong sounds like a Southern answer to Smashing Pumpkins Disarm.
And then there is the song Honest Joe, which has a guitar solo that is–believe it or not–in the realm of Comfortably Numb! Given that the song starts out like Matt Whitehead is singing on his porch at sunrise, this makes that claim even harder to believe.
Believe it. If you don’t get blown away by this song, you hate rock ‘and’n’ roll.
The band put out several albums thereafter, each one folding in more melody without sacrificing the sawed-off shotgun capabilities of the band.
In 2025, the band resurfaced after a 5-year hiatus and will be playing at the sixth instalment of Planet Desert Rock Weekend in January 2026.
To let you know what those who attend this cool little festival can expect, here is the write-up from my book Sonic Seducer: Lust For Our Heaviest Moments, Memories, And Magic Of Rock And Roll.
“It’s always awesome when you can see a show at the legendary El Mocambo in Toronto–where the Stones played their historic gig back in 1977. And maybe some of that magic rubbed off on the band that night. They were touring on their first album, Eastbound and Down, which for me remains one of the greatest albums of all time in pure, unrelenting, foot-stompin, and finger-waving rock and roll.
“The band simply fuckin’ crushed everything on every song. I was stoned on just the sheer onslaught of badass for just over an hour. Singer Matt Whitehead was actually under the weather, which made what I told him after the show even more remarkable.
“I told him that this was one of the greatest shows I had ever seen. It wasn’t a lie. This was a critical moment for me. I had seen the mighty Metallica still flirting with their cult status. I had seen so many shows of the ’90s alternative movement in small clubs. How did this show of a horribly unfamiliar band rise to that level–and even eclipse some of those once-in-a-lifetime shows?
“I wouldn’t have been able to articulate it at the moment, but I can now. This show represented the birth of my complete focus on the stoner rock scene. In the mid ’90s, that scene was still intersecting the media darlings of alt-nation. By 2002, that was all gone. A metaphorical Phoenix rose that night in the form of dirty, loud southern rock and roll.”
Throttlerod. Go. Check. Them. Out. Now!
