This is off-roading.
This is when there are no signs posted and you're allowed to go as fast as you want and skid out in whatever fashion you'd like.
This is when you're spinning through the mud, spackling the trees and the weeds brown.
This is when it's humid and there's a threat of downpour in the air, building in bumpy columns of clouds off to the west.
This is when you've made the decision to reclaim some of your expended or wasted energy.
This is finishing a beer and getting that feeling to crush the can against your forehead.
This is the feeling that you should be grilling out right now.
This is about finishing off nights the way they were meant to be finished off - with hail Marys and being passed out.
This is Crushed Out, the Brooklyn duo of singer/guitarist Frank Hoier and drummer Moselle Spiller. It's the kind of garage rock and roll that barks and bites, but could still sing you to sleep like the rattling of the trains can in the city, once you've conditioned yourself to them and incorporated their thunderous passings into your resting routine.
This is a soaring high on a ripped off feeling of bliss that could have come from anywhere. You're not going to question it. You're just going to let it get into your system before the blues find you once again.