Wired by Wired: A Raw, Unapologetic Blast of Hard Rock and Electric Blues
If you’re looking for an album that punches you in the gut while still giving your brain something to chew on, Wired by Wired is it. Released back in 2003, this US-born beast of a record doesn’t mess around. It’s got all the grit of hard rock with just enough pop sensibility to keep things interesting—but don’t expect any soft edges here. Produced by Mike Mroz and backed by H&H Productions and Marque Records, this sucker hits like a freight train.
Let’s talk lineup real quick. You’ve got Darren Caperna belting out vocals like his life depends on it, Taylor Smith laying down bass lines so thick they could choke a horse, Jay Benzi smashing drums like he’s trying to break ‘em, and Mike Wagner shredding guitar riffs sharp enough to cut glass. Together? They’re unstoppable.
Now, onto the tracks—because let’s be honest, that’s what matters most. First up: “Burn Bitch Burn.” Yeah, I said it. This track grabs you by the throat from second one and doesn’t let go. The riff alone feels like someone lit a fuse under your ass, and when Caperna screams those lyrics, you can practically smell the smoke. It’s angry, raw, and unfiltered—a perfect anthem for anyone who needs to blow off steam after a crap day at work or, hell, just life in general. Remember this one because it sticks with you long after the last note fades.
Then there’s “Break Las Vegas.” What even is this madness? With its relentless energy and swagger dripping off every beat, this song feels like chaos wrapped in gold foil. It’s not polished; it doesn’t need to be. Instead, it thrives on imperfection, like drunk dudes stumbling into a bar fight but somehow pulling off synchronized moves. Every time that chorus kicks in, you wanna scream along—even if you don’t know why. And yeah, it shows up twice on the album. Not complaining though; once ain’t enough.
Other standouts include “Tragic Truth,” which slams you with emotional weight between blistering solos, and “Doghouse,” where the bluesy undertones shine through loud and clear. But honestly, the whole damn thing is solid. No filler. Just straight-up fire.
What makes Wired stick isn’t just the music—it’s the attitude. These guys aren’t trying to reinvent the wheel; they’re running over it with spiked tires and laughing as sparks fly. There’s no pretense here, no glossy sheen meant to impress critics. It’s real, dirty, and rough around the edges—and that’s exactly what makes it unforgettable.
So yeah, grab yourself a copy (if you can find one), crank it up, and let it rip. Just don’t blame me if your neighbors start banging on the walls—or worse, calling the cops. Oh, and fun fact: ever notice how albums like this remind you how much better music used to feel before algorithms decided what we should listen to? Fucked up world we live in, huh?
