There was once a time when men were men. They didn’t care about the clothes they wore, the shape they were in; they swore, grew beards and drank whisky. They owned family heirloom six-shooters, smoked Pall Malls, and worked in car garages. None of these people attempted to be cool, for them, coolness was innate. Today, not single follower of underground music can deny the fact that contemporary musicians are desperate for a unique hipness or even worse, “relevance.” After a while, musical culture goes through a recycling process—reducing the music to redundancy. It takes innovation, creativity, and bravery to shake the shackles of musical boredom and make unique, clever, and hip art. Austin’s very own, Cartright, embody just that sense of game-changing bravery. On “Third Time,” the band sounds fierce and frightened all at the same time, like the first wave of men at Pickett’s Charge. Vocalist, Ben Russell, leads the song into an arpeggiated acoustic attack, yelping, “I’m not satisfied, all them wolves are stalking,” with a bourbon soaked growl. The catchy melody of “Third Time” is backed by a militaristic, pounding bass drum, giving the song a passionate, drummer boy edge. Cartright sounds as if The Dirty Dozen got together and made a band; they make music for men, by men—and they don’t wear their grungy coolness on their sleeves, it’s hidden deep beneath the layers of the rough acoustic bullet barrages.