bobaflex.com

McCoy, incidentally, is a decedent of half the Hatfield-McCoy feud that almost caused a war between Kentucky and West Virginia in the 1880s. He also formed, with his brother Shaun, the band Bobaflex. The Mothman. Chevy-sized catfish. Bobaflex. Strange things continue to happen in Point Pleasant. 

 
The latest release from Bobaflex

Bobaflex is an odd beast, a bracing mix of heavy riffage, hip-hop-inspired beats and alternately growling and soaring vocals. There are four singers in the band, so the angle of attack constantly shifts, which is partly why the band’s songs careen around your brain far longer than hard rock’s usual offerings. Mostly, the songs on Apologize For Nothing rock outrageously hard because Bobaflex is willing to try anything that sounds good, and couldn’t care less how any of it might make them look.

“It’s all about the vocal line and the melody for us. We were never worried about being tough,” Marty says, contrasting the band’s approach to that evinced by so many others. “You can sing a high-pitched melody and go into this falsetto thing without going ‘I’m fu**in’ heterosexual and pissed off!’ Who gives a f**k? Quit being afraid of not sounding tough.

“We heard, one time,” he continues, “that Rock-n-Roll is supposed to be big and dumb and shameless.’ It always was to me.”

“There’s no bravado in rock anymore,” his lead-singer brother Shaun adds. “If I could do a split off the riser I would.”

“We want to keep the music fun,” Marty concludes, “If people are coming to see us play and buying tickets, I’m having a damn blast.”

The songs on Apologize For Nothing run from the irresistibly over-the-top aggression of “Better Than Me” to the heavily armored melodies of “Bullseye” and “Guardian” and short-attention-span gems like “Got You Trapped.” All the songs are pushed by beats that bang like hip-hop but never resemble the limp aping of the rap-rock era. There’s always melody you can hum along to chasing some locomotive-sized crunch that makes a mosh pit seem like a good idea.