“Vice and Virtue,” the latest EP from Dirty Money, is a rip-roaring ride through the ethos of rock’s golden era, with the raw edge of modernity. Formed in February 2022 post-Chemical Pulse demise, Dirty Money wields their instruments like proverbial weapons of mass disruption: Spud Hudson on vocals delivers an anthemic roar that meshes seamlessly with Mark Walker’s shredding lead guitar. Ross Hutton’s bass lines are not merely heard but felt in the gut, while Luis Silver hammers down a percussive thunderstorm behind the drums.
The record tears open with “Play to Win,” sending out high-voltage signals that this is no passive listen—the grit of gravel underfoot and the smell of rebellion fill your senses. With only four tracks to make its mark, “Vice and Virtue” doesn’t dally; it demands attention at every turn.
Hudson’s lyrics are painted across vast canvasses that examine life in vivid strokes – sometimes broad sweeps questioning morality and fate; other times fine dots highlighting our hedonistic streaks. The storytelling furrows deep into one man’s episodes amongst chaos yet maintains universality for listeners who’ve ridden similar highs and lows.
Each track feels like cruising an electric highway—windows down, windswept thoughts dissipating in rearview mirrors—as we experience Midnight Suns,’ it resonates like Springsteen’s fist-pumping energy met by Foo Fighters’ sonic audacity.
What stands out starkly against contemporaries is how authenticity isn’t forced; they breathe as much fire performing gut-busting ballads as they do delivering chest-thumping crescendos. It makes you wonder if these guys have lifetimes worth of experiences balled up into just over half a year together because what materialises feels anything but infantile—it roars matured insights wrapped in musical fervour.
As “Ego,” caps off this rollercoaster—a fun upbeat piece laced with nostalgia—you emerge roughened yet strangely hopeful amidst personal symphonies oscillating between vice and virtue.
“Vice and Virtue” EP is Dirty Money’s gauntlet thrown at today’s homogenized soundscapes challenging them with piercing guitars crafted on roaring riffs assemblage line—and rest assured, rock puritans to casual chart dabblers will wholeheartedly agree something visceral has been sparked here. Let there be no confusion: you don’t listen to “Vice and Virtue”; you feel it—in every fibre until reverberations cease long after the last notes fade away.
