So what do we really know about rock ‘n’ roll? That it’s got a backbeat, and you can lose it any old time you use it. That doing it all night will often lead to partying every day or, at the very least, some hootchie-coo. That it is most certainly not noise pollution (and thus, one presumes, environmentally friendly). That there is at least one high school named after it. That it was given to you by God. That you can’t stop it. That it never forgets. And that, despite rumours of its demise, it will never die.
Danko Jones knows all of these things, but more than just celebrate the mythology of rock ‘n’ roll, he stands as a model of all the hard work required to honour its legacy—all the overnight drives, sleepless nights, long-distance relationshipping, and pints of spilt blood and sweat (but no tears—there’s no crying in rock ‘n’ roll).
Over the course of six albums, Danko Jones has forged a singular brand of rock ‘n’ roll that draws equally from the various roots of rock — without ever being fully defined by any of those sources. But while built from the same rudiments, each Danko Jones record has possessed a distinct sonic identity and attitude.