The first thing you hear on Gary Clark Jr.'s four-song calling-card EP is a nasty, fat-assed electric-guitar tone, which the 27-year-old honed as a Texas teen playing clubs like Antone's, Austin's blues church. On the title track, Clark stretches that tone like taffy, swings it like a bullwhip, spits it out in bursts of distortion. It's the blues, no doubt: Clark sings, "Ended up with the bottle/Taking shots, waiting on tomorrow/Trying to fill up what's hollow," over a snarling groove
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