Whiskey Myers have built their career on hard work, sweat, and songs that hit like a fist wrapped in velvet. With their seventh album Whomp Whack Thunder, the East Texas-bred, multi-platinum six-piece sound bigger, bolder, and more intrepid than ever.

Recorded at Nashville’s Neon Cross Studio with Grammy-winning producer Jay Joyce (Eric Church, Cage the Elephant, Lainey Wilson), Whomp Whack Thunder is a high-voltage mix of downhome grooves and arena-sized riffs all wrapped up in the band’s Southern spirit. Joyce, known for pulling bands out of their comfort zones, spent three weeks with the group, coaxing out a record that feels both dangerous and personal. “Jay pulled something out of us that’s raw and real,” says guitarist John Jeffers. “Every track’s got a piece of our story in it.”

Lead singer and songwriter Cody Cannon takes the band’s storytelling to new heights. “Time Bomb” and “Tailspin” come out swinging, all snarling guitars and thumping rhythms, with choruses perfect for singing along while galloping on a horse on the plains or barreling down the open road in a souped-up Mustang. But it’s “Midnight Woman” that shows just how far Whiskey Myers can stretch. Opening with a slow-burn, voodoo-soaked riff before detonating into a classic rock groove, the track is equal parts seduction and menace. It’s the kind of song rock stars and bluesmen alike used to write about dangerous women. “It’s about the kind of woman who doesn’t just walk into your life. She storms in like thunder,” Cannon says. “That raw, late-night energy you can’t shake off.”

What makes Whomp Whack Thunder land so hard is the chemistry of a band who’ve already been though it all together. Cannon, guitarists John Jeffers and Cody Tate, bassist Jamey Gleaves, drummer Jeff Hogg, and percussionist Tony Kent lean into every side of their identity here. From greasy blues-rock to gospel-tinged country soul, the new album feels like the culmination of nearly two decades of road-tested chemistry.

For a band who’ve long thrived as independent outliers, Whomp Whack Thunder feels like the culmination of a longtime vision. They never chase trends or look to overly polish their sound. What they do is constantly double down on the raw power that’s carried them from East Texas bars to sold-out arenas. “We didn’t set out to chase a specific sound — we set out to make a Whiskey Myers record,” Jeffers confesses. “And I think this might just be our most fearless album yet.”