What you have right here is rockabilly royalty. They’re global allstars who swing like a gate.  They make the finest, finger poppin’ grooves to shake your local juke joint since the glory days of fenders and fins. Hold tight kiddo.

Flip your lid for each of them now …. pounding the ivories is East End boogie-woogie dice slinger, and UK music legend, Jools Holland. In the red corner, on sticks, skins and steel, from the City Of Angels via Brooklyn, it’s the signature Stray Cat backbeat of Slim Jim Phantom. In the blue corner, from Melbourne, slinging his hollow body Gretsch low and drawing quick - Chris Cheney from the Living End. Who’s the ringmaster for all this? Studio daddy-o, Kevin “Caveman” Shirley on the flying faders. And last, but definitely not least, wearing the championship belt of 20 number one albums, on vocals, the storming heart and soul of Australian rock’n’roll … Jimmy Barnes.

They’re spread across three continents but they’re all coming from the same place. Crazy right? They’re kids who grew up as greasers, listening to real gone 45’s with a whole lotta shakin’ goin’ on. It took The Big Flu to bring them together. “Hey, while we’re all stuck inside let’s bake a biscuit about cuttin’ loose”, said the Caveman …. and so they did.

Sure looks like fun. Check out Vince Ray’s unmistakeable trashcomic artwork, brought to cartoon life in Italy by Marco Pavone, then strap yourself in for the tunes. First off the line is ‘Johnny’s Gone’ … the story of a Rebel flaming out for his cause. Next flag to drop? A real wild child.

Their wax is for all the cats with weekends on their minds. Turn it on, turn it up, then turn it over and do it again. Forget about breaking your back in the burning heat. There’s no more working for The Man. What are you waiting for? Your life’s a lonesome train running out of track so grab a special someone who whispers sweet nothings in your ear and go make some crazy, crazy lovin’ in that big back seat.

Then hit the highway home with your windows rolled way down. Play The Barnestormers so loud that you can’t hear the police sirens. Put all your troubles in the rear view as you push that pedal to the metal. Then? Lift off! Be wild … real wild. Time’s up, time is money, time please.

It’s time for The Barnestormers.