Shevils – The White Sea

Photo by Jørn Veberg

Photo by Jørn Veberg

With a couple of singles in as many recent months setting the scene and platform for their new album, Norwegian band Shevils now unleash The White Sea, in turn confirming themselves as one of Europe’s finest hardcore incitements. It is a ten track sonic roar of hardcore aggression and noise rock imagination, easily Oslo hailing Shevils at their most addictively inventive and punishingly ferocious.

Since coming across Shevils through their single Is This To be (Our Lives)? in 2011, the year the band also formed, they have been a perpetual adventure to anticipate and be impressed by for our and their ever growing number of fan’s ears. Every time thoughts wonder if the band has hit their pinnacle, they have pushed on again, second album Lost In Tartarus a prime example as it took the strong and gripping prowess and sound of its predecessor The Year Of The Fly, and indeed The Necropolis EP before it, both also released in the band’s first year, to new heights of quality and bold adventure. As hinted at by the singles One Thousand Years and Shivers these past few weeks, they have done it again, their third full-length The White Sea digging deeper into bold craft and invention to move forward again from its 2013 uncaged predecessor.

The core trio of Shevils, vocalist Anders Voldrønning, guitarist Andreas Andre Myrvold, and drummer Anders Emil Rønning have created a twisted and angry beast in The White Sea, its nature and intensity echoing the social and political turmoil its lyrics seed their invention and fury from. With some of the songs also co-written by former member Christoffer Gaarder, the album is a voracious tempest of sound and emotion which at times becomes a writhing flirtatiously contagious predator and in other moments is an erosive sonic tempest of intensity and ire. From start to finish though, it is a gripping and ravenously compelling adventure which in one way or another exhausts and deeply pleasures in equal measure.

shevils-the-white-sea-cover_RingMaster Review   Produced by Marcus Forsgren, The White Sea stirs into rich life with I Wear The Skies, the opener coaxing with one, two, subsequently three and four layers of rich enticement once choppy riffs lure more spikily nagging hooks, keenly jabbing beats, and finally a groove thick bass tempting, it all uniting in an explosion of noise and impassioned vocal fire. Early hooks continue to lay down their addictiveness as the song grows, expanding their bait throughout as the short but glorious track boils to an anthemically ferocious close.

The outstanding start continues with We Could Leave The World, the bass of producer Forsgren almost skipping in its throatily pulsating prowl as again guitars stir up air with their sonic teeth posing as riffs. Band vocals roar and squall around the ever enticing lead tones of Voldrønning whilst the sweeping swipes of Rønning steer things into greater virulence, a contagion perpetually stretched and shaped by the craft and enterprise of Myrvold. Managing to eclipse the previous track, it only leads to another instant pinnacle within the album, a lofty peak going by the name of One Thousand Years. The earlier mentioned single bounds in on an inescapable rhythmic enticing, its enslaving hold matched by the grouchy blaze of guitar and vocals as well as the enjoyably predatory bassline. Sonic causticity and vocal rousing continue to collide and collude within the outstanding track; three proposals in and already The White Sea is emerging as one of 2015’s essential violating puppeteers on body and imagination.

The Death Of Silence has thick bait tempting ears from its first breath, a stroking of baritone guitar swift seduction quickly aided by a just as dark bass intimidation. Voldrønning’s mix of sandy and inflamed deliveries soon hold the reins of the song, especially as it evolves into a less imposing but similarly intensive affair with guitars melodically exploring and harmonies flaming in the surroundings of the abrasively catchy encounter. As with any Shevils track there is also an underlying drama in expression and imagination, here it boldly seeding a percussive shuffle and infectious swing helping to forge one invigorating incitement.

A rawer and more corrosive atmosphere floods Black Summer next, its textures matching the air as its hardcore heart pours passion and physical ferocity down the veins of the spiralling guitar enterprise. The track is a thickly layered and delivered protagonist, a consuming smog of sound which again has satisfaction full though it is instantly overshadowed by Shivers. As natural as breathing, guitars and bass spin a web of addictive hooks as beats slowly but forcibly batter the senses. It is a punk inferno pulsating with the band’s mighty roars and sonic ingenuity, and breeding anthemic toxicity which has limbs and voice enlisted in short time, moving on to twist and manipulate the imagination and psyche with every spin of its carnivorous inventiveness and rabid energy.

Both the vindictively prowling Wordsmiths and the transfixing Fireflies keeps release and emotions aflame, the first another defiance driven hardcore/punk antagonism as infectious as it is physically scarring. Its successor soon lives up to its name, guitars breeding glowing melodies which sonically flit across the evocative canvas of the song. Once more rhythmic imagination is as potent as dynamic tendrils of sound, uniting in an engrossing and wonderfully demanding onslaught, though a searing tapestry outweighed in spite by the hellacious When Will I See You Again?, a brutal assault tempered by catchy adventure in songwriting and individual craft.

It tempestuous tsunami is emulated by the album’s closing title track, The White Sea even more erosive and smothering as its sonic density and raging emotions devour and ignite the senses. It is the least welcoming track on the album, but no slouch in potent lures with haunting keys creeping through ears in the shadows of the crawling storm whilst a catchiness of sorts seeps into every volatile intent and trespass of riffs and scything beats.

It is a thoroughly exhausting end to the album, the band at its most creative and exploratory whilst freeing every ounce of their emotion and dark depths in a startling oppressive temptation. As their second album leapt on from the first, so The White Sea does again. It might not be as big a step on the surface in some ways but it is their most inventive one making Shevils one of the big excitements in noise invention. Like a hybrid of Cancer Bats, Refused, Sofy Major, and Melvins, this a band ready to stand aside such names whilst scarring your senses.

The White Sea will be self-released on 6th November.

Pete RingMaster 03/11/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Sexwolf! – Hangin’ With The Boys

Sexwolf_RingMaster Review

It has been digitally devouring the senses for a few months now but in the breath it takes one month to roll into another, Hangin’ With The Boys gets to physically violate the world. A fierce infestation of punk fuelled rock ‘n’ roll, the EP is the debut release from noise merchants Sexwolf!, an English quartet which has become recognised as one of the wildest and greedily devoured hardcore confrontations on the Birmingham, indeed Midlands rock scene. Going by Hangin’ With The Boys they are one of the most exciting too, a treat lovers of feeling something substantial in their hand which bites, i.e. a CD, will go wobbly over.

With inspirations from the likes of Every Time I Die, Cancer Bats, Black Sabbath, and Refused sparking their sound and sharing stages with bands such as He Is Legend, The Bastard Sons, Black Shapes, Black Art, and Heck (Baby Godzilla) amongst a great many more, under their belts, Sexwolf! go straight for the jugular with Hangin’ With The Boys and its opener, the band’s forthcoming single None Stop Body Rock.

cover_RingMaster Review   Guitars and drums respectively send a torrent and barrage of their finest ferocity down on the senses straight away, their bait leading the listener into a tempest of vocal antagonism and infection dripping grooves from within an already more hostile onslaught driven by the vicious beats of drummer Jenk. No quarter is given as the track continues to abuse and batter yet the guitar of Joe Lane conjures virulent sonic enterprise to temper his carnivorous riffs and those of bassist Dan Mogg, whilst together the band breed a contagiousness which is especially virulent in the rousing and ravenous chorus helmed by the raw squalls of vocalist Richard Phillips. As much as you might say the song and the band’s sound is living off essences heard often before, they become twisted and cultured in the ways of Sexwolf! to emerge with a fresh and fiery character of their own.

Evidence is swift as She Got Gold leaps from its waiting seat and tears a raucous hole in air and psyche. As it abrases the senses it simultaneously spins an addictive tapestry of noise rock hooks and impossibly catchy grooves matched by the diversity of the vocal attack. Like Shevils meets Gacy’s Threads with a splattering of Every Time I Die for good measure, the track is a glorious trespass of body and soul, a protagonist to a lustful appetite for more of band and sound. Guitars are bluesy, vocals unpredictable, and the rhythms, well they just beat an enslavement out of you with force and violent charm.

Nomesayin resourcefully uses its few gasps over a minute to unleash an hellacious bestial swamp of violent punk ‘n’ roll that just breed pleasure whilst Captain Bastard Face seems to have the scent of blood in its nostrils the way it explodes from the blocks and ravishes air and listener. It does have the invention to also share waspish grooves and hostile repetition across its sonic predation, an enterprise which seems to only increase the potency of its maliciousness and the emerging bolshie but mischievous swagger.

The final thrilling skirmish between band and ears comes courtesy of Fuklashnikov, a minute and a half of twang infested rancor and raging belligerence, and another tsunami of noise that just hits the spot. If hardcore in its full savagery is not for you then run, run away now but for the rest of us with a taste for spiteful invention and devilry, Hangin’ With The Boys is a must, especially now in its physical glory.

Hangin’ With The Boys is available on CD from October 31st and digitally now at the Sexwolf! Bandcamp.

Pete RingMaster 24/09/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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The Bastard Sons – Smoke

The Bastard Sons _RingMaster Review

There is no escaping the buzz which has powerfully brewed around The Bastard Sons since emerging in 2011 and especially over the past couple of years, and no evading the reason why, once losing yourself in the riotous depths of the band’s debut album Smoke. It is a bulging sack of pure rock ‘n’ roll cast in a maelstrom of flavours showing exactly why the broad term rock ‘n’ roll is the best way to describe the band’s tenacious sounds. At times it is southern rock led, in other moments hardcore driven, and very often metal sparked; to be honest it is constantly all of those and far more, a beast of a stomp sure to incite the passions of fans to everyone from Down to Cancer Bats, Ghost of a Thousand to Black Tusk, Bloodsimple to Hellyeah, and Stone Temple Pilots to Stone Sour.

Around and since the release of their second EP Roads in the March of 2014, the British quintet has been a blur of activity drawing increasing success at the same time. A US tour with Throw The Goat pushed the band’s growing reputation stateside whilst praised appearances at Hammerfest VI and Bloodstock, a tour supporting hardcore punks Snot, and shows alongside ’68, the new project of Josh Scogin from The Chariot, and also Cavorts amongst many others has taken care of the appetites of British fans and media. Earlier this year the York hailing five-piece dropped a potent and quickly devoured teaser for Smoke in the shape of the single Release The Hounds, a dynamic hint realised and taken to greater plateaus by the album itself.

The Bastard starts things off, southern fried chords the initial lure, though for barely a squeeze of seconds as quickly the band with sinew loaded riffs and rhythms bursting set up a riotous stomp of energy and sound. Vocals, as the music, come in varied styles, hardcore and cleaner rock ‘n’ roll tones colluding in a tempestuous incitement with anthem tattooed to its gripping walls. There is a touch of Pantera, Motorhead, and Every Time I Die to the storm, but as repeated song by song, it is just flavouring honed into something unique to The Bastard Sons.

TheBastardSonsSmokeFrontCover_RingMaster Review  The earlier single comes next, and quickly Release The Hounds shows why it had so many feisty for the album, its opening grooves and vocal scowling within a rugged landscape enough to get ears smiling and appetite drooling alone. The heart of the track is unfussy rock ‘n’ roll, a balls to the wall roar coloured and constantly reshaped by flirtatious sonic enterprise and sudden compelling twists of unpredictability, musically and vocally. It is the seed design to all tracks within Smoke in many ways, but persistently twisted and taken down new and individual avenues as swiftly shown by Sobre La Muer… and before it A Lie Is A Lie. The third track rages and croons with incendiary textures and addiction forming grooves whilst its successor casts a sultry air more in Seether/Shinedown territory than anything else, yet with a predatory dark bassline and a steely touch to the guitars, it carries a constant intimidation which strongly expels its fury from time to time. Nevertheless it and the previous song are inescapable anthemic traps; the lure somewhere between Them County Bastardz and The BossHoss, and fiercely contagious.

Bottom Of The Ladder growls and sonically grizzles with scuzzy magnetism next, guitars and vocals a dirty incitement stirring up ears and soul whilst the group calls work, along with the thumping rhythms, on the body and primal instincts. As anthemic in intensity and roar as it is, the track also unleashes an agitated and gripping web of aggressive twists and belligerence toned creativity, its presence ready to brawl at the drop of a hook or scything beat.

The southern drawl of guitars brings I’m Only A Call Away alive next, the song once standing tall writhing like a barroom temptress with inescapable grooves amidst a volatile fistfight of rhythms and the ever fiery and impressive mesh of vocals. As already shown by their live history, The Bastard Sons has a sound which works with, and appeals to, a vast expanse of rock and metal styles, that diversity in no finer and pungent shape than on this fascinating riot.

Through the brief and hellacious, as well as uncompromisingly emotive landscape of the fiercely angry U.S Against Them and the classic metal lined rock ‘n’ roll of Listen Here, band and album keep the thrilling storm blazing whilst Cardboard Walls saunters in on a rhythmic confrontation bound in more of the sludgy southern wrapping the band breeds so invitingly. A suggestive hint of Crowbar appears at times within the fire of sizzling grooves and snarling riffing, but as you may assume the track, whilst being one of the more restrained adventures on the album, it simply layers more flavours and varied textures into one enthralling mix.

Like a sandstorm, vocals shower and scar Scene(ic) Root(s) next to thick success, but equally they slip into cleaner gaits with ease and power to match the similarly volcanic and pleasingly exacting sounds. The track burns on the senses, simultaneously exciting and bruising before Stay True spreads its warmer balm. Featuring Glamour Of The Kill vocalist Davey Richmond, the track is a shadow brewed serenade as atmospherically and vocally haunting as it is emotionally and physically mercurial, and quite mesmeric.

Smoke finishes with the equally potent but far more capricious and intrusive Exist-Distance, a track which kind of sums up band and album with its constant weaving of different flavours and creative twists within a perfectly coherently cultured body, and another song which stands individual in the cast list of easy to recognise Bastard Sons songs.

We gave a list of bands at the start which sort of gives a hint at who might find thick pleasure from exploring one of the year’s real treats so far. To simplify it though, if raw and passionate, imaginative and ravenous rock ‘n’ roll hits the spot than Smoke is a must.

Smoke’ is available from 7th August 2015 via Kaiju Records @

RingMaster 05/08/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright


THE DROPPERS NECK release ‘200 Volts’ video

The Droppers Neck Promo shot_RingMaster Review

Fiery Brit sludgy punk rockers ‘The Dropper’s Neck’ have uncaged the spanking new video for ‘200 Volts’. The cut is lifted from the band’s exhilarating new EP ‘Nineteen | Sixteen’ and can be viewed here:

By drawing from the formidable powers of Cancer Bats, Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster and Gallows, The Dropper’s Neck hit you with robust riffery, compelling dynamism and mesmerising dark hooks. The enigmatic quintet are poised to break from the underground this Summer.

Hailing from Essex, The Dropper’s Neck were born in 2011 and feature the talents of Lloyd Mathews (Vocals), Chris Blake (Lead Guitar), George Barrows (Rhythm Guitar), Jamie Abela (Drums) and Jack Turner (Bass). The five-piece soon cultivated an engaging live set and quickly built a name for themselves on the live circuit through extensively touring and by delivering a series of highly energetic and frenzied shows.

The band’s growth continued as they released their debut album ‘Second Coming’. The record was recorded by producer Paul Tipler (Placebo & Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster) and helped launch them to a national level. The album picked up a glut of national press and radio support, with Rock Sound, Classic Rock Magazine, Powerplay Magazine, Big Cheese Magazine and Kerrang! all firmly backing the band. Last Summer, support continued for the sludgy punkers as they released their explosive video single, ’Line Me Up For The Firing Squad’, which was exclusively premiered by Metal Hammer.

The industrious combo are now back in the saddle and fully loaded with a brand new EP ‘Nineteen | Sixteen’. The record is their best work to date and is brimming with seven slabs of highly toxic dirty punk rock, dashed with hints of psychobilly, and brimming with unabashed energy and sheer force. The frenzied garage punk new video single ‘200 Volts’ is a key highlight of the record and displays the fivesome at their very best. With a plethora of shows mapped out for the Summer, you need to latch onto the band now before they lift off.

Read our Nineteen | Sixteen review @


The Dropper’s Neck – Nineteen|Sixteen

The Droppers Neck Promo shot_RingMaster Review

To date there has always been a licking of lips in anticipation of any new encounter with The Dropper’s Neck and each time so far they have rewarded with dark rock ’n’ roll which simply infests body and imagination. True to form the UK quintet has done it again with their Nineteen|Sixteen EP, the dirtiest, sludgiest, most aggressively provocative offering from the band yet, an aural proposal perfectly suited to and reflective of its lyrical theme. The EP is inspired by The Great War and takes the listener along with its protagonist into the initial ‘glamour’ and lure of conflict, through its fierce pestilence before leaving them in the stark aftermath which follows. This all comes with the familiar but ever evolving fusion of psych and noise rock, punk and psychobilly brewed by the band, and quite simply it is another ravishing treat from The Dropper’s Neck.

Formed in 2011, The Essex band quickly pricked attention and appetites with early songs and releases but it was debut album Second Coming which lit an acclaiming and hungry spotlight. Drawing on influences such as Gallows, Blood Brothers, Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster, Cancer Bats, Every Time I Die, and Dead Kennedys, band and album unleashed something familiar yet powerfully unique, a distinctiveness which has festered and blossomed through the incendiary single Line Me Up For The Firing Squad and now to stronger depths with Nineteen|Sixteen. The single was certainly a potent teaser for the EP, though in hindsight just one glimpse of the dark throes and adventures now uncaged.

The Dropper's neck Cover Artwork_RingMaster Review   The release opens with the scene setting 57,470, an intro thrusting ears and imagination right into the landscape of rifle fire, thunderous artillery, and fear soaked horses. It’s violently portentous hue leads into King & Country, a sonic bridge to the incoming bruising beats and ravenous riffs entangled in an invitingly spicy groove. Rousing and anthemic, the track is a sign up of ears and emotions as potent as the bait enticing the young men of the narrative. Already though there is a snarl and corrosive edge to the music, expulsions of vocal hostility from Lloyd Mathews aligning with his expected and great monotone laced delivery. Hard rock ‘n roll stirring up air and body, the track is a forceful incitement setting things in compelling motion.

Somme comes next, the rhythmic and anthemic overtones of its predecessor veining its initial coaxing whilst hooks and grooves are soaked in even sharper, almost venomous incitement. Striding with an Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster meets Engerica like warped swing and brawling with a caustic Cancer Bats/KEN mode like ferocity, the latter becoming more intensive in ears as the reality of the horror of war is opened up, the track is little less than deranged bestial contagion.

Its increasing hellacious presence makes way for the even more psychotic Line Me Up For The Firing Squad, the track a maelstrom of rabid sounds, scarring vocals, and blistering viciousness. Within its raw and merciless tempest though, grooves and rhythms create the addictive shuffle of bait and infectiousness renowned from the band, the bass of Jack Turner especially seductive at times within the muddy and humid atmosphere of the unforgiving blaze. Production across the release is raw and very often as cold as the soundscape being explored; an aspect some have offered as a slight flaw but it only adds to and represents the physical effect and filthy ambience of the ground the EP’s context is inspired by.

The thumping beats of drummer Jamie Abela trap and push ears into the scuzzy punk ‘n’ roll of 200 Volts next, the guitars of Chris Blake and George Barrows creating a creative antagonism of defiant riffs and provocative grooves respectively. The predatory spine of the song is a virulent enticing which sends searing flames of sonic fire and expels hardcore spawned vocal hostility from its sobering bait with increasing tenacity and rage. It is an abrasive storm exciting and scarring already bruised and tender senses, no respite coming with the outstanding contagiously toxic and inventively addictive Monster. The track swarms through ears and over the psyche with its rhythmic emprise and sonic nagging, its body as the previous encounter, a garage punk spawned dynamo of bracing angst and violent intoxication, and the best track on the release, though there are so many rivals such as the closing Stutter which rampages straight after. Everything about the song, from jabbing and military seeded beats to erosive riffs, vocal diversity to scything grooves, is sheer inventive and hostile virulence, rock ‘n’ roll to honour the dead and incite the darkness of horrors past.

With a bugle announcing the end of hostilities in hidden track The Eleventh Hour, the Nineteen | Sixteen EP comes to a haunting close leaving thoughts rife and satisfaction full. The release is not a history lesson but certainly it makes a provocative and striking proposal with its pungent theme whilst musically revealing another thrilling exploit from one of the UK’s most exciting bands.

The Nineteen | Sixteen EP is available from 13th July @

RingMaster 10/07/205

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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American Fangs – Dirty Legs

American_Fangs_RingMaster Review

As much as we, like so many, are always looking for something uniquely new and ground-breaking to fascinate and ignite the passions, there are undeniably times a masterful fusion of existing designs and textures in one irresistible slab of full on rock ‘n’ roll is just as thrilling. Dirty Legs from US rockers American Fangs is such a riotous treat, an embrace of established and recognisable essences honed with new hooks and inescapable virulence then immersed in high octane energy and dirty intent. The result, one of the most scintillating and ferociously outstanding stomps unleashed this year from a band set to replicate home success and surely stir up hungry appetites around the world.

Hailing from Houston and formed in 2008, the American Fangs sound is described as a blend of post hardcore and alternative rock/metal, flavours certainly erupting within the band’s songs but equally tracks are punk, hard rock, and as uncompromisingly contagious as any form of pop rock. Band and sound swiftly drew attention as a live presence in the US and the UK, American Fangs touring with the likes of Deftones, Papa Roach, Four Year Strong, Sevendust, Hollywood Undead, and Chevelle over the years and making highly praised appearances at festivals such as SXSW, Rock on the Range, Carolina Rebellion, Rocklahoma, Festapalooza Shreveport, and Ship Rocked. Backed by their acclaimed self-titled debut album and their first EP, the quintet has become a greedily followed prospect, if not quite to the same level in Europe as in the US, though Dirty Legs will surely change that with, to follow up a potent performance at this year’s Download, its worldwide uncaging.

Opener Slavery Wedding swiftly sets the tones for the album, its immediate swipes of hefty rhythms and caustic riffs an attention grabbing eruption driven by the dirty scowl of Gabriel Cavazos’ vocals. There is no hiding place as the beats of drummer Micah Miller seem to intensify their assault with every punch and the guitars of Kenyon Puntenney and Chris Goodwin turn more toxic with every riff, chord, and eventually a blaze of seriously seductive grooves. Like a mix of Every Time I Die and Cancer Bats in league with UK band Bite The Shark, the track is primal rock ‘n’ roll turned into an anthemic riot refusing to take no for an answer.

Dirty Leg_front.eps_RingMaster Review     The outstanding start is instantly matched and surpassed by Death of Me, a scuzzy epidemic of insatiable hooks and rhythms within a bruising sonic infection. Cavazos again leads the incendiary confrontation with an ear gripping delivery which is soaked in attitude and enterprise and backed by the equally potent tones of bassist Kyle Shimek. The latter’s string sculpting is just as imaginative and enticing too, offering a grouchy lure throughout but especially exploiting the passages of ‘relaxation’ to unveil the most predatory funk lines you will ever come across. As its predecessor, the song is high on adrenaline and ferocity, taking no prisoners lyrically and in its voracious presence.

Counting Wolves has an even rawer texture and air to its quickly pleasing roar, the song merging the passion and hookery of a Billy Talent with the agitated emotions and fury of a NOFX, then twisting it into American Fang’s own demandingly catchy revelry. Once more band and album is drawing full submission from body and thoughts, though fair to say the excellent song still pales against the might of Say What!, carnivorous rock pop at its best. Everything about the track is ravenously addictive and anthemic, body and soul whilst being tenderised by punishing rhythms inescapably entangled in wiry riffs, clanging hooks, and a blazing vocal roar.

Shimek’s bass begins unveiling new bestial, primeval tones in Leukoplakia next, its dark lure aligning with stalking grooves and barbarous beats as vocals crawl menacingly over the senses. Despite all that intimidation, there is again pure virulent alchemy at work which only incites the listener to dance whilst snarling at the world with the song. If rebellion needs a soundtrack this is it. The breath-taking incitement eventually seeps into the following Black Eyed, though the body is not given any time off here either, the song a kinetic jungle of pungent rhythms courted by spicy and inventive twists within an alternative rock/punk stomp.

Few albums hit an early peak and keep it going across their length without even slight dips but Dirty Legs does, in fact it just gets stronger and more tenacious as it goes as if it is feeding off the reactions and energy of the listener. Bukkake Summer proves the point, a slice of rock ‘n’ roll which takes the rowdy exploits of the previous track and sculpts them into its own punk ‘n’ roll harvest of nagging riffs, growling contagion, and mischievously rousing vocals, all punctuated by sinew loaded rhythms. Imagine a mix of The Ramones, Turbonegro, and The Senton Bombs and you have a hint to another delicious brawl on the album.

Both Brazlian Axe and We Stand Apart keep the thrills and creative spills coming, the first a raunchy blaze of rock ‘n’ roll with tangy hues to guitars and vocals creating around a resonating rhythmic spine whilst its successor is another proposal lock ‘n’ loaded with barbed hooks and intoxicating guitar resourcefulness. With vocals as much a cheerleader to the imagination and virulence of the song as they are a feverish protagonist to the combative strength of the lyrics, the encounter steals top dog honours on Dirty Legs, though only by a shade such the might of all.

Both tracks inflame ears and emotions whilst keeping the album burning creatively and aggressively, each only inspiring thoughts and appetite to crave more before being fed by closing track You’ve Got Future Written All Over Your Future. It is a heavyweight turbo-charged rampage which pretty much sums up the might and inventive craft of the album. As throughout the whole release, there is plenty to recognise and offer possible comparisons to, yet American Fangs simply use all flavours and seeds for their own devilish intent to riveting and incendiary effect.

Quite simply Dirty Legs is rock ‘n’ roll baby and it does not get much better than this!

Dirty Legs is available from July 4th via Best Before Records @ and

RingMaster 04/07/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Listen to the best independent music and artists on The RingMaster Review Radio Show and The Bone Orchard on Reputation Radio @