Finally, someone has found a unique angle for the execution of tired "Southern" tropes: be from New York! What a genius plan this sextet has concocted, to bring their hoedown-core to the nation's music-blog-and-press-hub so that typists and hypists don't have to (sigh) seek them out in the cultural landfill that is (yawn) non-New-York America, and then the band can bask in the boring language of this genre's typical, lazy, ghetto-izing reception: "haunted," "Appalachian," "swamp," "mountain," etc. City slickers might be surprised by how unswampy most mountains are, and vice versa. Anyway, bits of the o'death boys' affected vocals and influence-recycling barely escape being lampoonable as striving to embody Clap Y'alls Hands Say Yeehaw.