Album Review: Spare Parts by Big Engine – A Raw Slice of Rock ‘n’ Roll
Big Engine’s Spare Parts isn’t trying to reinvent the wheel. It’s a straight-up, no-frills rock album that leans hard into its Hard Rock and Southern Rock roots. Released under Big Engine Records, this US-born gem is packed with grit, soul, and enough swagger to make you want to crank it up on a road trip or while nursing a cold beer in your garage.
The lineup here is solid—Tony Mikus delivers raspy, lived-in vocals that feel like they’ve been dragged through whiskey-soaked gravel. Hans Oellerich’s electric guitar riffs bite hard, Neal Hale keeps the drums pounding like a heartbeat, and Banner Thomas lays down basslines so thick you can almost touch them. Jim Curtis gets credit for the cover art, which perfectly matches the vibe: raw, rugged, and unapologetic.
Now, onto the tracks. With 13 songs clocking in at just over an hour, Spare Parts doesn’t waste time. Two standouts immediately come to mind: “She Loves Her Liquor” and “Shake My Soul.”
“She Loves Her Liquor” hits like a shot of bourbon—smooth but with a kick. The lyrics are simple yet vivid, painting a picture of someone who lives life one drink at a time. Tony Mikus’ voice cracks in all the right places, giving it authenticity. You can practically smell the dive bar where this song was born. Then there’s “Shake My Soul,” which feels like the band let loose and had fun in the studio. The rhythm section grooves hard, and the chorus sticks to your brain like gum on a hot sidewalk. If you’re not tapping your foot within ten seconds, check your pulse—you might be dead.
Other cuts like “California” and “Kill Me Slowly” bring variety without straying too far from the core sound. But honestly, part of what makes Spare Parts work is how cohesive it feels. There’s no filler; every track serves a purpose, even if some don’t quite reach the highs of the standout moments.
One thing worth mentioning is the production—it’s clean enough to let each instrument shine but still rough around the edges, keeping that live, organic feel. Graphic designer Tony Ruest deserves props too; the layout ties everything together visually, making the physical copy (if you’re lucky enough to grab one) feel like a collector's item.
So yeah, Spare Parts won’t change your life, but it’ll sure as hell soundtrack it for a while. Whether you’re a diehard fan of Southern Rock or just looking for something real amidst the sea of auto-tuned pop, this album has legs. And hey, maybe that’s the point. In a world obsessed with perfection, Big Engine reminds us that sometimes spare parts can build something pretty damn cool.
Final thought? Listening to this felt like finding an old leather jacket in the back of a thrift store—it’s worn, imperfect, and full of character. Who knew rock ‘n’ roll could still feel this alive?
