The thing to keep in mind with The Dudes is that they're more than the sum of their ample swagger. Behind the big riffs and bigger beards, these are some seriously smooth operators. Let lead Dude Danny Vacon croon a couple choruses and you'll be falling for his bad-boy-poet schtick hook, line and sinker. Let bassist Brock Geiger join him on the high harmony, and the swooning might never stop. You might think you're a steadfast folkie, immune to the lure of rock and roll, but by the song's end, chances are you'll be be pumping your fist with the best of them.
Don't blame yourself. The Dudes have been Calgary's bare-chested embodiment of the rock'n'roll dream for long enough that some deference is deserved. Let's not confuse longevity with respectability — there's a reason they didn't call themselves The Gentlemen — but after two decades worshipping at the altar of good times and good tunes, there's no doubting The Dudes are rock royalty. They may be the sort of monarchs you see munching on mutton legs and downing flagons of ale, but manners don't matter in the world of rock. And for us mere mortals, who are we to resist?