How fucking wonderful was Sydney, Australia's Buffalo? Their utterly ruling proto-metal-throw-down dude rock, their ham-fisted, hairy-chested macho delivery, their unabashed misogyny all make for rock rulingness, but Buffalo pushed it so far that they bordered on cartoonish. "Buffalo Only Want You For Your Body" was the band's third album. After experiments in psych (Dead Forever) and more jammy, blues-based hard rocking (Volcanic Rock), it was on this album that Buffalo found their forte in muscle-bound biker rock and roll. Sadly, this would be Buffalo's last album of any merit, even though the band continued on in some form or another for many years after. So here's the deal, in 1974 Buffalo was one of the best, most potent group of pussy hungry rockers on earth and this is evidenced in "Buffalo Only Want You For Your Body." The album opens with "I'm a skirt lifter, not a shirt raiser," as if right off the bat Dave Tice wants you to know that he digs the hole, NOT the pole, so if you were planning on trying anything, think twice, mate. And it only gets better from there. Again I urge you to not take my word for it, let Buffalo tell you how it is.