Painter

Painter’s “West Coast Woman” may be the best song you’ve never heard. A bruising three minutes of blue-collar hard rock—these guys aren’t wearing denim and flannel for no reason—the song was a minor chart entry here in the States, but a Top 20 hit in the band’s native Canada. There is one other reason this Calgary-based quintet should have hit it big: The ‘70s-styled one-word band name with accompanying rock star logo (a true measure of coolness for any self-respecting group). Success didn’t happen, of course, and Painter disappeared shortly after the release of its self-titled debut. “West Coast Woman” is the best track on the album, but the record as a whole is full of meaty riff-based rockers. “Space Truck” speeds along at an intergalactic pace (“drippin’ moon dust/in my space truck/on the way to Mars…”), while “Goin’ Home to Rock ‘n Roll,” “Oh! You” and “Slave Driver” are satisfying slices of well-cooked Canadian bacon (food analogy translation: they rock). In the end, Painter poses a question so often asked by The I-Own-Every-Record-You’d-Never-Buy CD Consumer's Guide. “Tell me,” the band wonders in “Tell Me Why,” a country-styled rocker. “Why do the old songs never die?” Sadly, the group wasn’t referring to its own material. Painter died a quick death, its “West Coast Woman” a fitting if long-forgotten epitaph.

Notes: “West Coast Woman.” YouTube. Play loud. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9gCfw4cug6c&feature=related.