Hidden among the unending tangles of kudzu, tucked back among the towering Georgia pines and buzzing power lines, sits a haggard little shack that seems to lean comfortably to one side. A dog lumbers by, chasing away a flock of stubborn geese before resigning himself back to the shade. Its hot out, southern hot, where movements become as slow as the speech and the rare breeze is wet as waves.

From the leaning shack comes the smell of open fire, of meat cooking on open fire, of sweat, stale beer and last night's whiskey. Then come the sounds. A snare drum smacks like a fastball to a well-oiled mitt, a crisp acoustic guitar begs for company in misery and a pedal steel melts the kudzu into retreat. There's a band of musicians tucked away in that shack, and they're hard at work.

This is the musical home of Georgia rock band Chase Fifty-Six. This is where twanged insta-classics like MaryJane and Let it Go were first penned and performed, where rock rumpuses like Wasting Time and Goodbye Princess got their first sweaty kick in the ass. This dilapidated shack, in all its mosquito-bit sweltering glory, is where their newest record, Allatoona Rising, was born.

While the album's eleven tracks of blistering Alt-Country/Americana/Rock music that will now simply be pigeonholed as Georgia Rock was born here, it was reared throughout the state of Georgia, from the slick studios of downtown Atlanta to the fly-infested bluegrass trailers of Lavonia. It came to be during the drought of 2009 when the entire Southeast was cracked, chapped and thirsty and the lakes exposed underbellies strained water supplies and choked tense politicians. The process was quenching.

There's no doubt Allatoona Rising has the strength to stand on its own, but anyone who has ever seen Chase Fifty-Six perform on stage, whether in a crowded, piss-stained bar or at a crowded, piss-stained outdoor biker fest anyone can tell you: It's the live show that sets the hook.

Join Chase Fifty-Six in their quest to conquer the South. Review the album, book the gig, see the show, do the interview, and shout it from the top of the pines.

The drought is over. The lakes are rising. The shack is hot, sweaty, cramped and loud. But there's always room for one more.

Come on in.

Please direct all inquiries to: publicity@chase56.com