Michigan roots rockers Flatfoot weave rusty threads of barbed wire and guitar strings through their third offering, Track's End. Continuing their update of Exile-era Stones grit and sunny back-roads whiskey country-rock, Track's End shows some adventurousness in its sequencing -- songs double back on themselves, with sections appearing again later in the album, with forays into campfire sambas and instrumental snapshots as interludes. The familiar core of lost loves and hard drinkin' are still there, occasionally in the same song, as is the case in the forlorn "Ode to a Mac's Bar Waitress," where occasional bassist Thomas McCartan spins a tale of a dusty barroom floor and a failed attempt to take his favorite girl away from it all. The rest of the songwriting duties are handled by the Bales brothers, whose dueling twang covers topics as broad as personal introspection, teenage love, Bible study, and the death of Hank Williams. The album culminates in a fiery re-recording of their song "Grandaddy," which appeared in a slightly more ramshackle form on their debut album. This nearly Zeppelin-esque burner encapsulates everything that is great about Flatfoot: a driving energy, passionate vocals, one foot firmly rooted in tradition, an earthy honesty, and an explosive spirit that borders on religious fervor. These boys lay it out in full and believe every word of it down deep in their souls.
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AllMusic Review by Zac Johnson