Never judge a book by its cover.

Because if you were to look at the epic, Tolkien-esque painting of wolves and bat wings that adorn this record sleeve and imagine that you were in for some epic, fantasy-inspired heavy metal, you’d be disappointed.

…just like I was, when I first got this record because of the cover, and expected some epic, fantasy-inspired heavy metal.

To clear the air, this record isn’t bad, by any stretch. There’s just a massive disconnect between the aesthetic of the cover and the actual music within. I don’t think anybody on earth would think it’s appropriate for this wicked cover art to accompany an Everly Brothers cover.

But that track is just a brief detour in a non-stop riff fest. Because even though this is a few shades Bachman-Turner-Overdrive-ward of Led Zeppelin, the guitar work really is pretty close to the Platonic ideal of hard rock.

In fact, there are several moments that feel exactly like whatever Jet was trying to rip off during the Rock Revival of the 2000s (“Changin’ Times” could be Exhibit A in a copyright dispute regarding “Cold Hard Bitch”).

Their interpretation of Crazy Horse’s “Beggar’s Day” which flows into the psychedlic instrumental “Rose in the Heather” has no shortage of headbanging riffage and fret burning leads. “Miss Misery” could easily pass for a Led Zeppelin track if Dan McCafferty’s voice was swapped for Robert Plant’s. And of course the cowbell-featuring title track is especially iconic.

But despite however good the hard rock riffs are, these songs all feel more appropriate to play in a bar than on riding headlong across a desolate tundra while on the back of a dragon, battle axe held aloft—which again is the album the cover art promises. “Whiskey Drinkin’ Woman” is an especially extreme offender, pushing hard into honky tonk, offering little to headbang to.

The album’s closer covers over a multitude of the other tracks’ sins, though. “Please Don’t Judas Me” is a near-ten minute power ballad. It opens with layers of acoustic guitar backed by an Indian tabla. As the song trudges through its run time, the acoustic guitars are joined by atmospheric synths, martial drums, and a wailing lead guitar.

As “Please Don’t Judas Me” fades out, I realize that it feels more like the closer to the album that I wanted this to be than the album it actually is. Its groundwork would go on to be followed by bands like Baroness and Pallbearer rather than Jet. But as great a track as it is, it feels almost out of place: a folkloric heavy metal power ballad closing an album of beer-soaked hard rock.

Again, to be clear: this isn’t a bad album. It’s just nowhere near the other albums from the mid-70s hard rock and heavy metal scene that absolutely did deliver the sort of epic fantasy teased at by the riffs and the cover. As a result, Hair of the Dog lives in the shadow of bands like Led Zepplin, Deep Purple, and Black Sabbath. I know it’s not totally fair to anyone to be compared to that Unholy Trinity, but Nazareth doesn’t distance themselves enough from the tropes those bands built to differentiate themselves.