The Sheepdogs recorded Keep Out of the Storm live off the floor in Toronto, cycled through guest drummers, and brought in Ricky Paquette for his first full-length with the band. You can hear all of that in the first thirty seconds.
Nobody But You opens with jangling chords and a vocal that leans in close. Ewan Currie doesn’t overthink it. “Every time I see your face, I get a smile that I can’t erase.” Stubbornly plainspoken. Then the guitars start talking to each other, one burning clean, the other sliding in with grit. Paquette wastes no time staking ground. The chorus lifts without straining. Warm, familiar, still sharp around the edges.
The title track tightens the screws. Keep Out of the Storm moves with purpose, drums pushing from underneath while the guitars stack into something bigger and brighter. The “storm” never gets defined, which helps. It feels lived in, not conceptual. “I got to find another home,” Currie sings, and the line hangs there, less triumphant than necessary. Survival, not victory. The arrangement nods to Petty’s steady drive and the clipped punch of new wave keyboards, but it never tips into imitation. Worth noting: the chorus uses two drummers to beef things up. You feel it before you clock it.
I Do swings the mood. Glam sparkle in the chords, a chorus built for shouting back at the stage. “I love you more than Axis: Bold as Love.” That line could collapse under its own ambition. It doesn’t. The band sells it with straight faces and thick harmonies, melody out front and riffs right behind it.
Midway through, the record loosens its collar. Playing All Night Long eases the tempo and stretches its legs. Clavinet flickers in the corner, bass walking with a little extra swagger. The song shifts feel entirely partway through, sliding from road-worn groove into something closer to “Up on Cripple Creek,” and it’s one of the album’s best moments. Paquette’s guitar solo doesn’t hurt either. Take A Look At Me Riding drifts into hazier territory, somewhere between Sly Stone and Little Feat, horns colouring the edges while the groove sinks lower and slower. It ends before it fully blooms, and that’s a pattern worth noting. These songs rarely overstay. Sometimes you wish they would.
All I Wanna Do brings the sun back out. Southern-leaning riffs, organ tucked underneath, a chorus built for beer cups in the air. It’s easy to imagine this one bouncing off the walls at MTELUS on March 19. The Sheepdogs have always understood the communal side of this music, and they don’t pretend it’s solitary art.
Bad For Your Health is all chug and fuzz. The riff digs in and refuses to budge. Lyrically it’s a catalogue of modern vices, phones, screens, the slow rot of how we consume everything, delivered with the sleazy swagger of T. Rex and Thin Lizzy. The band leans into the groove instead of polishing it. With different drummers stepping in after Sam Corbett’s departure, the shifts add a flicker of unpredictability across the record.
Breezy lives up to its name without floating away. Tight guitar lines, layered vocals, rhythm section crisp and controlled. Everything stays exactly where it’s supposed to. The Owl slows everything down and looks inward. You can hear the nod to Fleetwood Mac’s Albatross in the harmonised guitar bends and a bit of Pink Floyd’s Breathe in the pedal steel and atmosphere.
Shamus Currie’s instrumental The Yellow Line steps out with brass and a funk undercurrent. It’s part Allman Brothers, part David Axelrod, cinematic and a little restless, like a late-night highway drive with no particular destination. Trombone cuts through the mix, playful and precise. A nice palate cleanser before the closer.
Out All Night kicks the door back open. Anthemic, driving, guitars grinding forward. The chorus lands hard, cymbals crashing, voices rising together. Then the band pulls the plug sooner than expected, resisting the extended coda the song seems to invite. Restraint can be a virtue. Here it feels like a tease.
Across eleven tracks, the record moves quickly. No epics, no indulgent detours. That brevity keeps the energy high, even if a few songs hint at longer roads not taken. Currie reportedly wanted to sing less and lean harder into riffs. He’s done both. The vocals are still the emotional centre, soulful and steady, but the guitars dominate the conversation.
Two decades in, the Sheepdogs are still doing what they do. Twin leads, analog keys, harmonies that feel like they were built in a basement rehearsal space and never abandoned. Keep Out of the Storm trims the fat and sharpens the attack. Whether you call it retro or just stubbornly committed, the result is the same: five players in a room, amps turned up, and a record that sounds like nobody needed convincing.
Keep Out of the Storm will be released on February 27, 2026 via Right On Records.
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