Voice Of Addiction – The Lost Art of Empathy

This started out as a piece on one track from their new album, an introduction for us sent by Voice Of Addiction which was so persuasive the whole album had to instead be the focus of attention. A multi-flavoured punk rock roar from the Chicago based band, The Lost Art of Empathy is one rousing confrontation which has the body bouncing and spirit leaping with its boisterous escapades from start to finish.

Becoming a potent part of the Chicago punk scene through their explosive live shows, Voice Of Addiction have been stirring up ears and venues since 2004, with a handful of releases and a host of compilation appearances marking their way. At their centre is vocalist/bassist Ian “JohnnyX “ Tomele joined upon the latest Voice Of Addiction stomp by drummer Dennis Tynan, guitarist/backing vocalist Jake Smith, and backing vocalist Luke Ostojic. Listening to the treat that is The Lost Art of Empathy, it seems impossible that the band is not a more widely recognised proposition within the global punk scene; a prospect their new album just might trigger.

With politically and socially challenging lyrics matched by a sound which bites however it comes across it’s twelve tracks, The Lost Art of Empathy opens up with that first song heard here. Rustbelt instantly coaxes ears with a spicy hook which is soon joined by a grouchy bassline and jabbing beats. Together they surge at the senses, developing an infectious urgency as Tomele’s vocals with equally potent backing swiftly capture the imagination. In no time the romp is igniting ears and appetite, its drive towards one irresistible chorus just as manipulative as everything from hardcore, pop and classic punk seems to get involved.

The following Dead By Dawn has a rawer manner in tone and touch but is equally as contagious with athletic beats and the grumbling bass shaping the assault from within which a collage of vocals and the clang of guitar entice. Smith spins a web of sonic endeavour as unpredictable as his riffs are rabid before Unity brings its own belligerent defiance to the party. Tomele’s bass again whips up the appetite, its magnetic prowess matched by another potent mix of vocals across the band.

Petty Schemes swaggers in next with a knowing mischief before bounding into a snarling and keenly eventful melodic punk blaze while the soulful Corporate Pariah evolves into a ska punk canter before which feet and hips are leaping as thoughts are provoked by the tracks incisive words. Both songs hit the spot, the second especially persuasive before Lockwood uncages its sonic spiral and subsequent punk contagion to eclipse both. Across the album bands such as NOFX, Bad Religion, and Angelic Upstarts come to mind, this track especially hinting but there is no denying that Voice Of Addiction embrace all into their own individual furor.

The street punk fuelled I Can’t Breathe invitingly brawls with the listener next, the band merging US and seventies UK punk for its tenacious attack and triumph; a success matched by the visceral punk holler of Everything Must Go. It too is a collusion of styles within the punk banner; alternative and math rock flirting with hardcore tendencies to enthral and arouse.

Through the caustic yet melodically hued tear up of Ad Nauseum and the equally uncompromising and enticing Eviction Notice, the album continues to grip attention even if the songs do not hit the same level as those before them; a plateau Alcorn Queen definitely flirts with straight after with its Mars Volta meets Converge like adventure and animosity. The track is superb, stealing best track honours at the death though there is still time for the acoustic brilliance of Are We Even Human Anymore to shine with Tomele vocally luring ears like moths to a flame.

The Lost Art of Empathy is a moment in time not to be missed; indeed all punks should make it their cause to share its compelling sound as too the presence of Voice Of Addiction. America is catching on, now it is our turn around the world.

The Lost Art of Empathy is available now @ https://voiceofaddiction.bandcamp.com/album/the-lost-art-of-empathy-2

https://voiceofaddiction.com/    https://www.facebook.com/voarockers/    https://twitter.com/VoArockers

Pete RingMaster 09/08/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Domestics – Cherry Blossom Life

The Domestics - Cherry Blossom Life - MPF2 (Charlee Ramsey- PNMT)_RingMasterReview

Pic Charlee Ramsey

A predator of the senses and the injustices infesting the world today, the hardcore furious sound of The Domestics has grown into one of the most riveting and compelling assaults within the British punk scene since the Suffolk outfit launched itself at apathetic barricades in 2011. Across two albums surrounded by a host of EPs, split releases, and compilation appearances, the band’s fusion of US hardcore, classic UK punk and raw Japanese influences has grabbed attention by the scruff of the neck. It’s ‘victims’ have been confronted with uncompromising lyrical commentary as a primal catchiness infects body and imagination. That being said, everything before has now been overshadowed and taken to a new level by third album Cherry Blossom Life, a release as viciously virulent as it is rapaciously antagonistic.

With The Domestics slimmed down to a quartet since the release of 2014 album Routine & Ritual, the band has equally stripped down their sound to simultaneously bring out and increase its venomous irritability and instinctive contagiousness. Its twenty minutes unleashes 16 tracks to challenge and stir up body and thought; a brief rewarding moment in a day which is proving to be almost as essential as eating and Cherry Blossom Life takes no prisoners from the first breath of opener Dead in the Dirt. The gnarly bass of Rhodes instantly has the appetite licking lips; its dirty grumble wrapped in a lurking sonic twine which blossoms into its own unclean temptation as the band uncages a tide of ravenous riffs ridden by the vocal animus of James Domestic. The senses and emotions are instantly on edge and the body roused as the album gets down to business in fine style.

The following Snuffed Out zooms in like a jet plane, the bolds beats of Simon Battery instinctive incitement as Ted Mint’s guitar spins a savage web around the equally catchy and pugnacious assault of voice and bass. Addictively inhospitable, the track’s imposing triumph is swiftly matched by that of Don’t Tell Me What Love Is, itself also less than a minute of unapologetic scrapping equipped with primal hooks and memorable causticity. The gang vocal bruising of Homegrown Violence proceeds to emulate and eclipse that gripping pair though, its brute force a deceit to skilfully spun hooks and infectious sonic tendrils.

cover_RingMasterReviewInitially, No Deposit, No Return allows a breath with its prowling entrance, the bass portentously courting the imagination before sparking a swinging canter which in turn bursts into a hellacious dispute of sound and voice. Unpredictable at every turn and adventurous with every twist, discord and animosity a superb combative mix, the song is irresistible before making way for the bare boned poetry of Human Ikizukuri; its visceral touch absorbed by the following sonic and lyrical rancor of Punch in the Guts.

Through the anthemic vendetta of Authentic Arsehole and the unbridled senses harrying tempest of Frustration, album and pleasure make kindred spirits while Guilty as Charged twists and turns with some of the most infectious hooks and inspired antics heard anywhere this year. Maybe its boldness is not pushed far enough, its fifty odd seconds not allowing time for further adventure, but the track leaves an indelible mark on ears and imagination.

Self Abuse scowls and feuds with the listener next, a richly satisfying assault with the creative dexterity of Mint and the feuding prowess of Domestic guiding the inescapable persuasion with Death Trap pushing pleasure to yet another level with its bearish bad blood and predacious stroll. Like a mix of Dead Kennedys, Angelic Upstarts, and Converge, the song simple hits the spot, its tenacious jaws a quick clamp on the passions. Its best track claim is then straight away rivalled by Bullshit Parasite, a bullish, balls swinging anthem impossible not to get physically and emotionally enrolled in.

There is no let up on enjoyment either as the home straight of Cherry Blossom Life is hit; A Poison Too Far a breath-taking ferocious declaration of sound and word harassing the senses and Stalinist Purge a corrosive squall of emotion and sound blustering around another glorious crunchy bassline and the creative agitation of the guitar.

The album finally closes with Happy, a piece of lyrical prose caught in a shaken snow globe of organic sound, and the only following thought is to throw oneself into its clutches straight away again. From word to music, Cherry Blossom Life is UK hardcore and The Domestics at their best, indeed the band at their finest yet.

Cherry Blossom Life is out now through TNS Records and Kangaroo Records; available @ https://tnsrecords.bandcamp.com/album/cherry-blossom-life   https://www.tnsrecords.co.uk/?product=domestics-cherry-blossom-life  and http://www.kibourecords.bigcartel.com/

2017 EURO TOUR DATES:

27/08: T. Chances, London, UK (Fuk Reddin Fest)

28/08: Vrankrijk, Amsterdam (Netherlands)

29/08: Tbc

30/08: Underwerkt, Copenhagen (Denmark)

31/08: Blitz, Oslo (Norway)

01/08: Snövit, Stockholm (Sweden)

02/08: Venue Tbc, Gothenburg (Sweden)

04/08: Tbc

05/08: Köpi, Berlin (Germany)

06/08: Stö, Leipzig (Germany)

07/08: The Pit’s, Kortrijk (Belgium)

https://www.facebook.com/TheDomestics/

Pete RingMaster 08/08/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Bloodclot – Up in Arms

Pic Rick Rodney

Bringing together the highly recognised talent of certain individuals from various acclaimed bands does not always guarantee something special but in the case of Bloodclot, it feels a given such the instinctive union between its collective. The band is the coming together of Cro-Mags vocalist John Joseph, former Danzig and Murphy’s Law guitarist Todd Youth, drummer Joey Castillo formerly of Queens of the Stone Age, Danzig, and Eagles of Death Metal, and Mondo Generator frontman and ex- Queens of the Stone Age, Kyuss bassist Nick Oliveri. Together they confirm that given with debut album Up in Arms, a physical and lyrical roar of hardcore defiance.

Unleashing twelve ravenous slices of punk rock with more inescapable hooks than found in Leatherface’s pantry, all fuelled by raw irritability at the state of the world today, Up in Arms is a crowd uniting battle cry. It fuses familiar essences with the fresh appetite and invention of a quartet seemingly destined to come together at some point. Everything about it is as organic as it is rabid, as challenging as it is rousing; taking no prisoners but rewarding those who it devours time and time again.

The album’s title track crashes in on the listener first, springing from an invasive sonic mist with a slavery of guitar and rhythmic predation as Joseph pokes and stirs the senses with voice and word. Castillo’s beats are rapier sharp and imposing, Oliveri’s bass carries an infectious brooding whilst Youth’s riffs and hooks ensnare across four eventful minutes.

It is an ear gripping, appetite inflaming beginning which only kicks up a gear with the following Fire, a belligerent brawl of punk ‘n’ roll instantly chaining ears with a  virulent hook as rhythms jab and incite. If the Angelic Upstarts was merged with Sick Of It All, this could be their anthem while Manic infuses an even greater physical psychosis and unforgiving attitude to the torrential gait of its predecessor in its own addictive multi-flavoured rumble.

Through the sonic call to arms scourge of Kill the Beast and the Dead Kennedys scented Prayer, new twists of sound and invention force themselves through ears, each with a virulent strain of spiky hooks and body twisting grooves, while their successor has things bouncing like a dervish. Siva / Rudra is a contagion of enterprise as cantankerous as it is exotically seductive marked, as all three, by Oliveri springing basslines as funky as they are carnal. Alongside, Youth’s riffs and grooves come as primal as they are compelling whilst Joseph squeezes every ounce of uncompromising adventure and emotional incitement out of tone and syllable.

Soldiers of the New Babylon locks metal and punk together in its prickly vent, a testy proposition woven with nagging riffs and a magnetically throbbing bassline before Kali throws all those attributes into an insatiable maelstrom of punk rock temptation, taking best track honours along the way. Barely seeing the one minute mark, the track is irresistible but swiftly rivalled by the crabby assault of Slow Kill Genocide, the catchiness moment within Up in Arms and arguably the most choleric.

Pure punk rock truculence shapes the breath-sapping antics of the following Slipping into Darkness, Oliveri spawning his most addictive moment within the album bound in the searing flames of Youth’s guitar as vocals and beats vent their animosity with Life as One backing up its triumph with its mercurial but always commandingly imposing tapestry of quarrel and imagination.

The album is closed by You’ll Be the Death of Me, a slab of rock ‘n’ roll taking big chunks out of the senses as it excites with its Lard-esque espionage. Addiction has never been more vicious and seductive within three and a half minutes, certainly in recent times, as that spawned by the outstanding finale to one of the year’s biggest treats so far.

Produced by Zeuss (Hatebreed, Revocation) and mixed by Kyle McAulay at NRG, Up in Arms transcends being just a great release from another so called ‘super group’, it has given hardcore a fresh new breath and snarl which we can only hope is the first of many gales from Bloodclot.

Up in Arms is out now on Metal Blade Records across most stores and @ https://bloodclot.bandcamp.com/album/up-in-arms

https://www.facebook.com/bloodclotofficial/   https://www.instagram.com/Bloodclot2016/

Pete RingMaster 26/07/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Eat Dirt – Self Titled EP

Punk rock has lost much of the anger it first set sail with back in ’77; certainly it is not as audible or open with modern bands seemingly worried more about, dare we say,  accomplished traits in their sound than their inspiring and rousing ire driven counterparts of yesteryear. One exception though is ‘Pissed Off Punk Rock Collective’ Eat Dirt, an outfit which has unleashed one of the irritable treats of the year in the shape of a self-titled debut EP. It is raw and uncompromising, belligerent and angry offering bringing a quartet of raging roars which yes are also skilfully crafted.

Forming in late 2016, Eat Dirt is the coming together of members of previously of well-established UK acts, putting “their frustrations with real life together.” From within its mysterious ranks, one of the band has admitted, “I’d given up on music. I wasn’t really angry enough. I had nothing to sing about anymore. Then the whole Brexit thing happened. I’m mad at people. I’m mad at the world around me. As a group, we need to vent. EAT DIRT is that release.

With inspirations drawn from the likes of The Bronx, Every Time I Die, Gallows, and Comeback Kid, Eat Dirt get right down to business with the EP’s thirty odd seconds title track. Instantly a wall of riffs and rhythms descend on ears, vocal scowling in their tow before a raucous stroll is in place. The unrelenting caustic attack is tempered by mellower backing vocals, their child nurtured ganging up as infectious as the brief but still eventful, hook lined proposal.

The great start is matched by the antagonistic prowl of Pigs. A call to arms littered with its own irresistible punk hooks, many old school bred, the track snarls and vents within an equally rousing web of guitars and rhythmic incitement. There are no frills, no unnecessary detours, just raging rock ‘n’ roll making its forceful point but with the imagination to leave ears hooked and spirits aroused.

48. follows swiftly after, the song badgering fifty seconds of fury and furious hardcore punk rock like a mix of Angelic Upstarts and Sick Of It All to again ignite the instincts and passions before Dead brings it all to a close with its contagious escapade. Almost flirtatious in comparison to its companions, the track has an anthemic catchiness and vocalised swing further continued in its hooks and swagger. There is no escaping bouncing bodies and swerving hips breaking out to its roar or a rising irritability with life alongside its own biting incite.

The track is a glorious end to a release which has the passions for not only punk rock but music itself alive and ready to snarl. The Eat Dirt EP is a defiance driven punk fuelled treat which we truly hope is just the first of many from its creators.

The Eat Dirt EP is available now as a free download @ https://eatdirtuk.bandcamp.com/releases

https://www.facebook.com/eatdirtpunk/

Pete RingMaster 11/07/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Cool Thing Presents: Alternative Occupations EP

ep-cover_RingMasterReview

There is no hiding that we have a lustful appetite for UK band Asylums and their feverishly inimitable sound, a hunger now being fed again by the Alternative Occupations EP. The Southend-on-Sea quartet have also shown through it that not only do they create some of the most essential propositions heard in recent times they have an eye and ear for other striking talent. Evidence comes in the trio of bands providing the other songs making up the EP released on Asylums own label Cool Thing Records; each an attention grabbing proposal just as ruthless on bodies and imagination.

asylums_RingMasterReviewAsylums set things rolling with a new previously unreleased track written and recorded as the busy wake of releasing acclaimed debut album Killer Brain Waves was settling down and the aftermath of Brexit consuming, that album still drawing plaudits and excited new fans the way of the foursome. Reflecting on “harsh education and health service cuts, post-Brexit Britain, and the running battle of grafting at creative efforts vs. grafting to keep afloat”, Alternative Occupations descends on ears with searing guitars and robust rhythms, openly sharing the creative traits which made the album and its songs such a rousingly infectious proposition. The warm and engaging vocals of guitarist Luke Branch increase the enticement, lyrical suggestion to the fore as melodies fly skilfully from his and fellow guitarist Jazz Miell’s strings. Feet are swiftly recruited in turn by the rhythmic tenacity of drummer Henry Tyler; it courting the seductive throb of Michael Webster’s bass as every element combines for another unique, memorable, and instinctively irresistible Asylums encounter.

The second track on the release comes from Petty Phase, an all-girl quartet also from Southend unleashing a fiercely infectious slice of punk rock

Petty Phase-photo kana waiwaiku

Petty Phase-photo kana waiwaiku

going by the name of You’ll Be Dead. Like a belligerent mix of L7 and The Kuts, the band pulls no punches with their attitude loaded sound in this their debut single, delivering one minute twenty of skilfully raucous invasively catchy rock ‘n’ roll for the EP. It is a snarling, hook swinging flirtation with riffs and rhythms as uncompromising and addictive as the melody lined snares gripping the imagination; though there is just one issue with it, the glorious strike is just so damn short.

The Horse Heads photo kana waiwaiku

The Horse Heads photo kana waiwaiku

The EP’s second side brings Essex punks The Horse Heads and their new single Castles to the party and as their companions the Chelmsford trio need little time to incite body and appetite with their post punk/punk rock trespass of the senses. Created by vocalist/guitarist Ronaldo Rodriguez, drummer George Young, and bassist Chad Worsley, Castles grumbles from the off, a deliciously throaty bassline the lure into a raw wash of biting beats, caustic riffs, and the similarly grouchy tones of Rodriguez. There is no escaping the old school punk air to the song and its components, an Angelic Upstarts/early Clash spicing flirting with scuzzy essences of bands like The Hives as its virulent assault equally stirs up nostalgia and fresh adventure. It too is over before enjoyment would wish, something applying to every song to be honest, meaning the replay button is well used across the EP.

Closing track I’m Still Here comes from Bait, a musician/visual artist we can tell you little more about except that he creates a tapestry of post punk contagion within his offering which is addiction in a speaker. Nagging hypnotic beats and rapacious riffs surround haunting predation lined vocals, an incessant tide of lures coaxing the listener deeper into the song’s tempestuous and imposing imagination coloured by lyrical suggestiveness. Artists like Brian Brain, Shock-Headed Peters, and Ministry are nudged across the compelling encounter but as all tracks within Alternative Occupations, it breeds its own uniqueness swiftly and dramatically while slipping unstoppably under the skin.

There has been numerous splits/multiple artist offerings in 2016 but few, if any, have induced lust like the Cool Thing Records proposal.

Cool Thing Presents: Alternative Occupations EP is available now on limited 12” white vinyl @ https://asylums.tmstor.es/

https://www.facebook.com/asylumsuk   https://www.facebook.com/pettyphase/   https://www.facebook.com/TheHorseHeads/

Pete RingMaster 14/12/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Dr. Hell – Apocalypse Boobs

dr-hell_RingMasterReview

Once more confronting ears with sounds suitable to voice an eager resurrection of the undead in a zealously riotous rampage, Dr. Hell unleash a new death dance of blood strewn horror punk going under the notoriety of Apocalypse Boobs. The German quartet’s mini album is a carnival of infectiously decayed punk rock and ravenous enterprise weaving familiar and individual exploits into their finest offering to date.

Since emerging from their respective North Bavarian mausoleums in 2010, though rumours are they actually formed in 1812 a secret place known as “The Bloody Islands”, Dr. Hell have released two albums of their raw and predatory horror punk, When I was just a little ghoul … in 2012 and Drunken Zombies two years later, and shared stages with the likes of The Meteors, Demented Are Go, KoffinKats, Blitzkid, The Other, and BananeMetalik to name just a few. Set to uncage their live ferocity on the UK this November, the band whets the appetite and scars the psyche in anticipation with the Undead Artists Records release of Apocalypse Boobs.

drhrll art_RingMasterReviewFrom its melodic Intro, the album leaps at the senses with Dead Girl with hungry riffs and swinging rapier like beats on the frontline. Swiftly led by the growling tones of DanDan Delirious, band and song career through ears with contagious punk/hard rock revelry and though there are no major surprises it is irrepressibly addictive and soon gaining full and eager listener involvement before Hate launches its more venomous and fiery tirade. With a touch of Frankenstein Drag Queens From Planet 13 to its irritability and raw trespass, the track binds ears with a toxic groove as again the rhythms of bassist Ina Insanity and drummer Mike Maniac growl and bite respectively.

Both tracks spark an eager appetite for the album’s assault and each is quickly eclipsed by the riotous stomp of Zombie Zoundz. With a whiff of The Sweet like seventies glam and the invasive predation of The Damned to its character, the track stalks the imagination around unbridled bouts of virulent aural voodoo resulting in a track for which lustful participation is a given.

Shrunken Heads is just as irresistible next, opening with heavy metal bred grooves around rockabilly riffs which only increase their and the song’s potency with every passing second of catchy enterprise. As in its predecessors, the song has a chorus ripe with contagion while guitarist Podo Panic entangles it in greed sparking melody sick flames throughout. As impressive as it starts, the album is at its pinnacle over the two tracks and only reinforces the point with Wasted Horror Punkrock Princess and a caustic punk brawl resembling a mix of Angelic Upstarts, Blitzkid, and Turbonegro with just a touch of Madball to its inescapable catchiness.

Completed by the anthemic incitement of Zombies in Town, another track as captivating in its antagonistic nature as its web of enterprising flavours within a rousing punk roar, Apocalypse Boobs  is primal rock ‘n’ roll to get loudly enthused over. As suggested it is not always the most unique proposal yet every track is pretty much distinct to Dr. Hell, igniting a lusty reaction and greed for much more; reason alone to stand in its bloodlust we say.

Apocalypse Boobs is out now via Undead Artists Records and @ https://bloodypunkrock.bandcamp.com/album/apocalypse-boobs

https://www.facebook.com/bloodypunkrock

Pete RingMaster 28/10/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Ripper – A.D.

Photo by Kate Murray

Photo by Kate Murray

The background to US band Ripper is simple; four punks who list former and current bands like Grotto, The Hidden Chord, Rolling Blackouts, Bombay Sweets, Zoo Animal, and Ghostmouth on their CVs, and draw on inspirations such as Dead Kennedys, Germs, Sonic Youth, and The Beach Boys for their virulent 2-3 minute punk rock songs. What also is uncomplicated is the fact that the band’s tracks and indeed new EP A.D. are bad ass rock ‘n’ roll devilment to get lustful and greedy over. The five-track roar is a stomp of dirty and antagonistic punk ‘n’ roll but with a virulence and feverish energy that just whips up the passions one blistering anthem by another ferocious anthem.

Hailing from L.A., New Jersey, Minneapolis, and Saint Paul, Ripper consists of vocalist/guitarist Danny Holden, guitarist Sean Levine, bassist /vocalist Noah Paster, and drummer Jeff Brown. January 2015 saw the release of their self-titled debut EP, a well-received introduction now eclipsed by the raw contagion and old school punk meets modern rock discordance of A.D.

photo- -Aaron-Oas

photo- -Aaron-Oas

The one minute incitement of Chain Fight gets the revelry off to a mighty start, guitars and feisty rhythms colluding in a sonic mugging driven by the just as quickly involving vocals of Holden, they potently backed by those of Paster. For those US based influences mentioned earlier, there is a just as open UK feel to the bracing roar to these ears, thoughts of The Vibrators and The Lurkers coming to mind as the brief and thrilling starter gets pleasure and appetite all riled up.

Latest single On The Curb follows and just as swiftly lays down catchy grooves and spiky hooks amidst a rhythmic and sonic tempestuousness. Within this storm though, the band skilfully slips the listener into mellower climes and with consummate ease belligerently leaps out of them again as that infectious attribute shown in the opener fuels verse and especially chorus. Again British comparisons come to mind more easily, the vintage and rousing attitude of Angelic Upstarts/The Boys aligning with the current discord irreverence found in bands like Asylums, the result a boisterously flirtatious incitement.

One Desire roars and brawls with the listener next, it a wonderfully antagonistic yet catchy invasion of the senses again bridging the decades of punk and noise rock superbly. As its companions, the song is the breeder of addiction; a want to indulge again hard to resist but postponed for the intrigue of what comes next, which is the just as outstanding Lick The Knife. Spicing its initial predacious prowling of ears with waves of off-kilter guitar seducing, an enticing weave punctured by the dark tones of Paster’s bass and rapier like swings of Brown, the track continues to restrain intensity and its assault as it slowly stalks the senses. The track is a compelling persuasion showing that there is much more than just punk influences to the heart of their riveting sound, whispers of post punk and noise rock igniting even greater greed for the release.

The EP is concluded by Never Win, a blaze of warped grooves and abrasive riffing speared by intensive beats amidst the throaty groan of the bass. The guitars of Holden and Levine, as shown elsewhere on the EP, are accomplished at unleashing a web of sonic bait to get eagerly entangled in, but here turning up the creative juices to spring their own thrilling trap within the larger delicious slavery of song and release.

Ripper is a band with the breath of the seventies and the creative devilry of all the punk years since, with plenty of their own distinctive imagination to shape, as shown by their EPs, fiercely memorable and exciting exploits.

The A.D. EP is available now as a co-release between Land Ski and Lawn Chair Records, and @ https://rippermpls.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/666RIPPER/   https://twitter.com/rippermpls

Pete RingMaster 08/12/2-015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

For more exploration of the independent and promotional services check out http://www.zykotika.com/