Pitchfork

Featuring more than 24 songs and over 70 minutes' worth of music, Holy Roller is, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the definitive Reverend Horton Heat compilation. It features songs from all of the band's five albums, and even a few new tracks. This is both a good and bad thing. See, in the early days, you could trust the Reverend to release only the finest in debaucherous rockabilly. Albums like the awesome debut, Smoke 'Em If You Got 'Em, The Full-Custom Gospel Sounds of the Reverend Horton Heat, and even the Al Jourgensen-produced Liquor in the Front featured dangerously hopped-up retro-rock that could get even the most good-natured of us feeling a little mischievous.

But suddenly, things took a turn for the worse. The band was drawn away from the honest, hard-working folks at Sub Pop by Interscope Records who undoubtedly promised excessive quantities of hard liquor, and riches and fame beyond the band's wildest dreams. Before any us of knew it, the Reverend had signed on with a major and released his first terrible album, 1996's It's Martini Time. And he followed that one up with his worst ever, last year's Space Heater. Next thing you know, he's back on Sub Pop.

A greatest hits album is usually a strategic move of desperation. When things hit rock bottom, you dish up your best work, throw on a few previously unreleased tracks (gotta appeal to the hardcore fans) and wait for the cash to start rollin' in. It also gets your name back in the magazines, as evidenced by this review. Brilliant! Of course, the question is, after you release a greatest hits record, will people really go back and buy your older albums? Well, in this case, they ought to.

See, the majority of these are great songs. But you also have to consider that, of the 24 tracks, eight of them are culled from the Interscope years, and two are brand new. That means almost half the songs on the record blow. I mean, there's no album I wanna own that has 10 weak tracks on it. "Well, now, wait," you say. "What about the two new songs?" Okay, it's kind of misleading. The two new songs are the Reverend in solo moments of glory-- just him and his electric guitar-- and one of them's a predictable cover of Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues." The other? It's the best thing the Reverend's done since "Big Red Rocket of Love." That, sadly, is not a very positive statement. My suggestion is the same as it usually is when it comes to greatest hits packages: go back and get the good stuff instead. You'll respect yourself more in the end for doing so.