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With more individual anthems than the amount likely to be heard at the upcoming Commonwealth Games, UK punk rockers Dirt Box Disco are poised to unleash their new album Bloonz. By now with their third album you could be tempted to think that the Burton-on-Trent quintet might have matured and grown up into a big boys sound but thankfully the band has refused to be swayed by the sensible side, the result another immense and irrepressible riot of prime cut punk ‘n’ roll. Do not make the mistake of thinking the band has not pushed their sound and craft though, it is just their devilry and imagination which has refused to mature as confirmed by the voice of the track King Of The Castle on Bloonz. The album is their most richly flavoured and spicily inventive mischievous incitement yet, the kind of stomp infamy licks its lips over.
Formed in 2009, Dirt Box Disco has been unrelentingly climbing the ranks of punk rock since making their first startling mark with riotous live performances and the Are You Ready? EP of 2011. One of the most turbulently energetic and mercilessly fun bands on stage, their reputation and stock has risen insatiably especially over the past couple of years, aided no end by the release of their debut album Legends and its successor Peoplemadeofpaper. Both releases were deservedly soaked in acclaim and generated waves of new appetites and attention upon the band, a track from the second of the two finding itself the soundtrack to a recent big cosmetic advert. It is hard to imagine Bloonz not only emulating their success but firmly slapping the band onto the top table of European punk and rock ‘n’ roll.
As soon as the first breath of Standing In A Queue hits the ears you know you are in for another thrilling and exhausting ride with the 
band sound, the track frisking from the outset with the devilishly coaxing vocals of WEAB.I.AM as the urgent riffs of DANNY FINGERS and SPUNK VOLCANO lay down an irresistible instant tease. With the crisp beats of MAFF FAZZO aligned to throaty lures provided by bassist DEADBEATZ CHRIS and the whole band backing up on anthemic vocals, it is Dirt Box Disco back doing rock as only they can. That is only part of the tale though as sound wise the first signs of a flavoursome expanse is apparent, the song fusing in a virulent strain of pop punk with more than a whisper of early Green Day if given a make-over by the equally early years of The Damned to it. The track is an outstanding stomp which grips feet and nether regions in a salacious charge of energy and contagion.
The following We Are The Rejects lets rawer sinews have their moment whilst an infectious toxin permeates every note and syllable. The guitars open with a scuzz lit antagonism, slowly scowling before raising their rabidity and energy whilst creating a caustic lure with raw metallic spicery. Surging guitar squalls and adversarial rhythms drive the song forcibly across the senses and feverishly into the imagination, the expected full addictiveness of the chorus and its lighter croon unable to stop the track from being the heaviest imposing treat on the album and probably from the band ever.
Rewind And Eject takes its lead from its predecessor, again finding a more violent voice to its breath and scrub of opening guitar, an intimidation stood over by the ever rebel rousing tones of WEAB.I.AM. From its sterner start the song opens up with flowing melodies and inescapable vocal hooks, though the guitars still stalk with an acidic dispute to their sound and essence. Though not as dramatically gripping as the first two songs, it grows into another inescapable suasion before being pushed aside by the muscularly striding Bullshit. Gripped by caustic grooves which sear the senses within a cage of muscle bound rhythms and cantankerous riffs, the track forges another diverse presence, one which steps out as an accusing predator with lingering hooks and anthemic griping draping every twist of its fierce body. Providing further proof of the evolving invention of the band across the album, that intimidation is then strapped by an ingenious sonic binding, rich grooves winding tightly around the passions for Skids like tempting lining the ’77 bred core of the song.
We are only four songs in and already have experienced a quartet of individually sounding triumphs, the fifth soon stealing the show as King Of The Castle explodes in the ears. Lurching into a rumble of agitated rhythms, corralling vocals, and predatory basslines, band and song stomp and taunt with impossibly contagious exploitation of the already submissive passions. That Green Day spice is again at play but similarly you can suggest essences of Bad Religion and Turbonegro in varying degrees to the unrelenting addiction brewing rampage. With guitars blazing with craft and incendiary relish, rhythms rousing up pulse rates, and vocals charming up the defiance and immaturity in us all, the track is another glorious pinnacle of Bloonz.
Both 9 Lives and Welcome To Hell settle into easily accessible and eagerly inspiring slices of attention stealing rock ‘n’ roll. Neither set the fires burning in the belly as certainly the previous track, but both show that when Dirt Box Disco are simply roaming comfortably within their own creative walls they are still looking down on the invention and presence of most other modern punk bands. The two songs leave lips licked and greed happy, the second especially notable with its foraging of garage punk corners for a blues kissed sonic fire of appetising rioting, before the excellent pair of I Swapped My Brain and Supreme And Gobshite decide to take their hefty portion of the plaudits. The first of this two is fuelled by a mix of The Ramones and Radio Stars, an incorrigible brew obstructing any resistance of its head on riot whilst its successor latches onto a Buzzcocks bred synapse scything groove, riding it hard for a boisterous and combative bruising employing thumping rhythms and sedately savaging riffs. The most aggressive anthem on the release, the track burns and riles as it seduces, riling passions to stand up and roar their approval. It is another twist in the mouthwatering variety of the album, again a song where despite all the comparisons offered, it and all tracks are pure Dirt Box Disco.
She Goes Out captivates the senses next with uncomplicated riffs and searing flames of melodic and vocal enterprise, all courted by sonic invention. As eager in its unbridled anthemic call as in the creative heat of its solo the song is a siren, its potent bait soon repeated in another guise by Golden Frame. Less forceful in its still merciless enticement, the song simmers and worms relentlessly under the skin. The grouchy growl of bass is the first potent trap swiftly followed by feisty riffs and tightly binding solos, all guided by the excellent legion of harmonious vocals. It all combines for aural slavery of the senses feeding an admittedly already biased appetite for the band until it breeds a new level of hunger.
The album is closed by one final brawl of sound and intent with the thrilling We’re Going Out Tonight. Punk n’ roll at its most commanding, hungry, and epidemically infectious, the track is a blistering finale and sums up the good bad things about the band. To be honest we were expecting good things from Bloonz simply on the evidence of the previous Dirt Box Disco albums but it leaves those thoughts seeming very reserved in their hopes. It is an album which just gets better and motivates greater bad habits the more you spend in its diablerie; the choice protagonist for all rockers everywhere.
Bloonz is released via STP Records on April 26th and available @ http://www.stprecords.co.uk & dirtboxdisco.bigcartel.com
10/10
RingMaster 23/04/2014
Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright
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You came into the band later than the other members, replacing the first vocalist who I believe left on the ‘eve’ of a tour. Tell us how it came about that a guy in South Africa became a part of an Arizona band.
I can image that a debut album is an exciting unknown which equally can be nerve shredding at times. How did you find the situation?
Beatle-esque tempting to their dramatic coaxing. The jagged tease is soon aligned to an equally compelling melodic exploration and feisty rhythms whilst Ellie’s vocals cast a stirring lure over the lot. It is not an explosive track but one which is unrelenting in its repetitive incitement and insatiable in its want to charge up the imagination. The firm almost imposing beats continue to drive on the track, never relinquishing their potent bait even in the more open and blustery chorus. The song is merciless with its enticements, band vocals a glorious web to lay their narrative and the sonic designs veining the song irresistible colour, but it is that blinkered core of the song which steals the biggest rapture.
and imagination. The niggling start to Confession of the Blind Messiah erupts into a torrent of predatory riffs and punching rhythms whilst vocally vitriol and ravenous intent clad every word. It is a magnetic entrance, the track enslaving with its concentrated confrontation before unleashing a further increase of aggression and malevolence. Speared by skilled sonic flames and a persistently shifting antagonistic stance, the riveting track makes for a mighty start to the album, essences of Behemoth and Decapitated offering their presence.
bites at the senses and an increasingly brewing intensive atmosphere chills bone and air further. With rhythms urgently imposing, guitars swarm over the senses, their touch restrained but sinister and icy. Courted by dark bass lines and the haunted squalls of vocals, the track is a smothering tempest but with a melodic and drone bred seduction which tempers the corrosive breath of the piece. Shivers run down the spine throughout until a respite mid-way brings a melodic beauty and peace to the track, it’s still cold hands caressing the imagination whilst offering a sheltering incitement before a venture back into a tortuous climate within part II. The second part if anything is harsher and more destructive than its predecessor, the climate a vicious antagonist but its beauty more evocative whilst its landscape moves from being an aggressive predator to a portentous siren, danger and emotive sufferance never diminishing in the heart of the track.
It is a testing album but a highly rewarding one, as is the Väinämöinen EP. With the band now just Mage, though he does invite guest contributions from the returning M.W.S. on bass, Lawrence Wallace (Shadows in the Crypt, Lawrence’s Creation) on keys and drum programming, as well as James McClellan Dorton III (Nightfire, Antikythera, ex-Shadows in the Crypt) on vocals, the two track release is equally as dark and sonically ravenous as its predecessor. The vocals though are allowed a greater clarity within the tsunami of intensity and sound whilst production also finds a more open presence for the songs. The title track marauds over the senses first, the cold expanses of the album revisited again but with a more intimate and precise investigation. Across the rare atmosphere and vitriolic weather of the song, bass and guitars converge in a corrosion intended union but also make their own individual frost bitten temptations for a stronger and more compelling adventure than found on the album.
glorious wash of vocal harmonies, their touch a seductive caress before the song opens up its entrancing arms into an elegant sway and magnetic swagger. Guitars and bass dance and tease across the length of the song giving a base contagion to fall into, then once enslaved brass flames aligned to anthemic vocal and melodic lures bind the passions even tighter. It is an energetic but respectful romp leading imagination and emotions by the hand into a seductive and vivacious dance.
Miss Lola Overture, a forty second lead into the following Tricky Dick. It is here where the release really wakes up, rhythms and a blaze of brass heralding the funk driven stomp ahead. The track immediately stomps with a rhythmic swagger courted by a great dark bass tone provided by Emmett Knox whilst alongside them the vocals dance with revelry and a welcoming enticement. With the guitars of Greg Smith and Greg Spitz teaming up with the keys of Jeff King to weave a melodic web which simply seduces emotions and appetite, the song continues its rampant persuasion bursting continuously with the trumpeting calls of Leenie Doran beside the equally magnetic flames of trombonist Pete Fanelli and saxophonist Joel Edinberg.