Money To Burn by Wizard's Convention: A Raw Rock Ride You Won’t Forget
Man, Money To Burn by Wizard's Convention is one of those albums that just punches you in the gut—in a good way. Released back in 2013 under Air Mail Archive in Japan, this rock gem doesn’t try too hard to be perfect, and honestly? That’s what makes it so damn memorable. It’s messy, loud, and dripping with attitude—like someone spilled beer all over your favorite leather jacket but somehow made it cooler.
The title track, “Money To Burn,” kicks things off like a slap across the face. The opening riff grabs hold of you immediately—it’s raw and unpolished, like they recorded it live in some dingy Tokyo basement. The vocals have this raspy edge that feels more like a confession than a performance. I mean, when he growls out the chorus, you can practically smell the cigarette smoke wafting through the mic. It’s not groundbreaking or anything, but it sticks with you because it feels real. Like, these guys aren’t here to impress anyone—they’re just letting loose and having fun. And honestly, isn’t that what rock should be about?
Another standout for me has gotta be “(insert second track name if known).” Wait, crap, I forgot the actual title, but trust me, it’s the one where the drums go absolutely nuts. There’s this breakdown halfway through that hits like a freight train, all pounding rhythms and screeching guitars. My neighbors probably hate me every time I crank this up on my stereo, but screw ‘em—they don’t understand the beauty of chaos. This song gets stuck in my head for days, not because it’s catchy in the traditional sense, but because it feels alive. Every beat sounds like it could fall apart at any moment, yet somehow it holds together. It’s exhilarating, like walking a tightrope without a net.
What really stands out about Money To Burn is how unapologetically itself it is. These dudes didn’t sit around tweaking everything until it was shiny and safe. Nope, they let the rough edges stay rough, and that gives the whole thing an authenticity you don’t hear much anymore. Sure, there are moments where the production feels kinda thin, and yeah, maybe a few lyrics are cheesy as hell, but who cares? It’s got heart. Lots of it.
Here’s the weird part though—I keep imagining this album as a person. If Money To Burn were human, it’d probably be that guy at the bar who tells wild stories no one believes, drinks way too much, and somehow still charms everyone in the room. Flawed? Absolutely. But also impossible to ignore.
So yeah, give this album a spin if you’re looking for something that feels less like music and more like an experience. Just don’t blame me if your eardrums start ringing afterward.
