Album Review: What A Helluva Woman by Blue Ruin
Alright, so here’s the deal—Blue Ruin’s What A Helluva Woman is one of those albums that sneaks up on you. Released in 1987 under Rampant Releases (an Aussie label with a knack for raw talent), this indie rock gem doesn’t try too hard to impress. It just does its thing, and somehow, it works.
The title track, “What A Hellu’va Woman,” kicks things off with a punchy guitar riff that feels like it’s straight outta some sweaty pub gig in Melbourne. The vocals? Gritty but smooth, like sandpaper wrapped in velvet. There’s something about the way they blend swagger and vulnerability—it sticks with ya. You can almost picture the band rocking out in ripped jeans and leather jackets, not giving a damn about trends. That chorus? Catchy as hell. It’s one of those songs where you find yourself humming it hours later, even if you don’t wanna admit it.
Then there’s “I Hit The Big Time In A Bottle.” Yeah, I know, the title sounds kinda weird, right? But trust me, it’s got this laid-back groove that grows on you. The lyrics are clever without being pretentious, telling a story about chasing dreams while drowning in beer—or maybe it’s the other way around. Either way, the bassline slaps, and the drumming has this loose, effortless vibe that makes you wanna grab a cold one and just chill. It’s messy in all the best ways, like life itself.
Now, let’s talk about the overall feel of the album. This isn’t polished stadium rock; it’s more like your mate jamming in his garage, except he’s actually really good. The production is lo-fi, sure, but that adds to the charm. It’s real. No overproduced nonsense here.
Here’s the kicker though—listening to this record makes me wonder how many people missed out on Blue Ruin back in the day. Like, were they too busy headbanging to Metallica or swooning over Bon Jovi? Because honestly, What A Helluva Woman deserves way more love than it probably got.
So yeah, give it a spin if you dig scrappy indie rock with heart. Just don’t blame me if you end up blasting it loud enough to annoy your neighbors. Oh, and fun fact—I betcha anything these guys would’ve killed it at a backyard BBQ. Now THAT’S an image worth holding onto.
