Joecephus and The George Jonestown Massacre – Death Rattle Shake

It seems like Joey (Joecephus) Killingsworth has been dealing out potent sounds as long as The RingMaster Review has way back had music in the heart though that realisation comes with hindsight after actually being introduced to the vocalist/guitarist/songwriter through his band Joecephus and The George Jonestown Massacre; more specifically through 2010 anthem WWLD (What Would Lemmy Do), a track and chorus which still rings out in the office when faced with a dilemma. Now the band has a new slab of Joecephus led goodness out going by the name of Death Rattle Shake, a release all punk ‘n’ rollers and hard rocking, country licking, metal hugging lovers should take a moonshine soaked dance with.

Joecephus and The George Jonestown Massacre as a band rose up around 2005 though, after an EP under his own name, Killingsworth had already released a first album under the name. Performing their first show that year,  the Memphis outfit have gone on to share stages with the likes of David Allen Coe, HR of Bad Brains, Agent Orange, Jucifer, Green Jello, Unknown Hinson, Black Oak Arkansas, Jim Dickinson, Rev. Horton Heat and many more. A handful of attention and praise drawing albums have also graced and bruised the years with Hell or High Water (2010), and Arockalypse Now (2012) probably the most notable and acclaimed. Death Rattle Shake easily takes its place alongside the band’s biggest successes and as a collection of tracks we would confidently suggest is their most impressive and rousing moment yet.

With bassist Brian Costner and drummer Daryl Stephens alongside Killingsworth and featuring the organ of Gerald Stephens, Death Rattle Shake bursts into life with its title track and a slice of dirtily animated rock ‘n’ roll. With beats rapping firmly on the senses and the bass grumbling with devilish seduction, the track is soon a compelling stomp which the magnetic flirtation of keys and the grimy riffs of Killingsworth lustily align with as his vocals further incites the body romping antics the music commands.

It is an outstanding start, one of those irresistible moments we all crave for and the spark for the following diverse dance of the album starting with the blues rock saunter of Drivin Blind. Again the warm, psych lit keys of Stephens contrasts yet unites with the scuzzier tendrils of guitar rising from similarly raw sonic flames, Killingsworth like an outlaw in its midst. It is a description which and always has suited the band’s music perfectly, its character like a rock ‘n’ roll felon/bandit but  an outsider you want to run with.

The addiction sparking Terminally Hip is next swinging its angular hard rock bred hips with attitude and mischief while Karma’s A Bitch brings a cauldron of old school rock nurtured blues punk as irritable as it is boisterously animated. Both tracks incite swift involvement from body and vocal chords, firing up rock ‘n’ roll instincts as easily as Excaliber also proves itself able. Again blues and punk unite as more stoner come sludge metal hues lick away at song and ears, the track another treat even if far too short for unbridled satisfaction.

Through the psych rock seeded, R&B keyed punk ‘n’ roll of Flypaper and the cowpunk sniping of Gold Digging Whore, the album continues to broaden its flavour and magnetism, the first simply a delicious noise nurtured infestation and its successor a woozy intoxication of sour but richly appetising sonic liquor.

Though the country lined funk ‘n’ roll of Cosmic Retribution did not trigger the same greedy appetite as those before it, the track effortlessly had attention hooked as hips swayed again with that mesmeric organ of Stephens a major flirtation alongside swinging rhythms and the enterprise woven web of guitar.

From its title you will correctly guess the nature and sound of Tombstone Blues, a track which without breaking boundaries was full distraction before the album closes off with the enthralling epic stroll of Helping Hand. Though a track unsurprisingly flourishing from the open individual and united craft of its creators, it is the suggestive meander of Killingsworth’s guitar which wanders with a skilled touch and intimation across the increasingly cosmic landscape of sultry keys and boldly ambling rhythms which primarily stands out and grips the imagination.

It feels a long time since we had a Joecephus and The George Jonestown Massacre offering to chew on but well worth the wait as Death Rattle Shake is easily their best yet.

Death Rattle Shake is out now; available @ https://joecephus.bandcamp.com/album/death-rattle-shake

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Pete RingMaster 20/10/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Wood Chickens – Must Die

Pic Courtesy of Madylen Photography

True uniqueness is a rarity in modern times though you can certainly get very individual takes on the familiar to feed the insatiable appetite for something new. It is fair to say that Wood Chickens have a handle on the former more than most, their sound within new EP, Must Die, a sonic scourge which simultaneously defies the breeding bearing its rapacious presence. It makes for a hellacious infestation of noise which had ears joyous and the imagination spiralling.

Hailing from Madison, Wisconsin, Wood Chickens descends on the senses through the scurrilous antics and prowess of Alex Wiley Coyote, Griff Chickens, and Justin J. Johnson. Their new EP is our introduction to the trio but hindsight has found that across a host of releases their sound has boldly evolved from its country/cowpunk breeding. Must Die is their most extreme offering yet; a cauldron of feral noise and imagination gloriously spoiled with the toxins of punk and metal as well as psych and noise rock.

Five tracks barely touching five minutes in length, the EP immediately has ears cowering and thoughts disoriented with Sados. Its corrupted entrance eventually bursts into a rabid onslaught as guitars and rhythms join vocals in scarring the senses. It is a maelstrom of dissonance yet has an instinctive undercurrent of catchiness bred from its punk natured seeding.

We Skate in Boots swings in next, psych sighs accompanying its brewing contagion loaded garage punk tainted punk ‘n’ roll. Primal and anthemic, the track roars and incites participation as easily as it savages the senses surging through ears with rabidity to the fore before Return of Skunk Ape unleashes its own untamed caustic virulence across 46 seconds of subversive temptation and creative devilry embracing similar choleric hues to its predecessor.

The EP closes up with the psychotic animus that is Y2k Pt. 2, undiluted ravenous noise and intent corroding the speakers, though there is also an untitled unannounced track after that which is, well just bewildering and indeed magnetic.

There has been little if anything which comes close to the sound and invention of Must Die, indeed it seems nothing in the Wood Chickens discography previously like it either. If it is a new turn in the band’s music we for one will be overjoyed though their previous encounters are nothing to ignore, and if just a one off certainly something to be greedily devoured by all with an appetite for the contagion of noise.

Must Die is out now via Crush Grove Records; available digitally and on cassette @ https://crushgroverecords.bandcamp.com/album/must-die

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 Pete RingMaster 14/08/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Elixirs – Sin Alley

When a band provides one of your all-time fav tracks there is always going to be an instinctive excitement at news of a fresh offering. And so it is with us and The Elixirs. Back in the aeons of time, well actually six years ago, the Gas City, Indiana hailing trio unleashed debut album Long Gone. It was a brawl of a riot bred in the band’s fusion of punk, psychobilly, and country.  Amongst its rich crowd rousing escapades was one song which has especially instilled itself on our daily playlists of pleasure and featured heavily on the site’s previous podcasts; Park It On The Lawn being that lingering beast. Now the band has returned with a brand new album in the devilish shape of Sin Alley, a release carrying a ravenous horde of similarly addictive proposals.

The Elixirs formed mid-2007 as The Stumblers with its original line-up of vocalist/bassist Dan Tedder, drummer Joe King, and guitarist Dan Savage. With things not quite igniting for the band, it evolved into The Boneyard Elixirs; Dan, now on guitar, and Joe recruiting bassist R.S. Lowe. Bassist changes led to the addition to now named The Elixirs of Dewayne Hughes, a time seeing the release of first EP Gut Cuts. 2011 saw Hughes leave and subsequently replaced by upright bassist Whitt. His talent and energy as well as the new dynamic of that stand-up bass was seemingly the spark to attention, that and the outstanding Long Gone which was released in 2012. Increasingly established and eagerly supported in the Indy scene, the band was thrust into ears far further afield by the album, including the likes of us in the UK. Since then the band has continued to uncage their inimitable rock ‘n’ roll whilst seeing a couple of line-up changes. The first album saw Dave “The Dudeist” replace Joe on the sticks and skins, he subsequently leaving after two years to be eventually succeeded by the initially reluctant Nate “Big Stick” Striedinger. From simply helping out his close friends at the ‘eleventh hour’ on live shows, he has become the perfect fit for band and a rousing sound now roaring with rigour across Sin Alley, their new rapaciously rocking, stomping, middle finger raising thirteen track DIY devil.

Fair to say as soon as the opening hook and subsequent rapping on wood of Knockin infested ears we were hooked, the track swiftly showing all the virulent slightly dirty traits of our first lusty affair with The Elixirs. Dan teases and flirts with the senses through his guitar as Whitt and Nate simply incite attention with their tenacious rhythms. The track is a fiery blend of psychobilly and punk ‘n’ roll; a mischievous almost salacious incitement about the struggle of being chased by temptation and sin. In the words of their press release; “when the lord makes it rain the devil makes it pour.”

The outstanding start is quickly matched by the cowpunk fuelled Hard To Bite Your Tongue, a track line dancing on the senses whilst fingering the imagination with its sonic liquor. The metronomic prowess of Nate colludes fiendishly with the delicious dulled resonance of Whitt’s strings, Dan’s vocals backed by his band mates just as persuasive as our bodies and vocal chords quickly climbed on board.

The following Kentucky Whores reveals the dirtier edge to the band’s sound; its earthy air and uncompromising breath full of licentious temptation while Killer Custodian is punk ‘n’ roll at its most lustfully menacing with hooks to die for and rhythms to swing from. As impressive and unreservedly enjoyable as Long Gone was already at this point Sin Alley has it beat and cowering in the corner.

Its Cold Outside corrupts along next with a fevered stroll through broken romance, the threesome a senses harrying force of tenacity before Busted Flat swings its sights and punches at politics and its perpetrators. Whitt’s slaps are just sinful, Nate’s beats bordering on the lecherous whilst Dan springs hooks and riffs like a sonic libertine; the result another hellacious thrill of an encounter.

As the likes of the horror punk spiced In A Bottle and Know Remorse with its punk-a-billy meets Misfits antagonism come and go, attention and addiction to the album only escalated indeed boiled over again as the groove swinging, growl spewing Sauced had body and imagination dancing like a puppet after them. Its grumble alone was manna to the ears, its soiled groove lust brewing and rhythmic prowl irresistible; all leading to a final bedlamic outpouring before Wake Up gives every reason to holler at the top of one’s voice with limbs flung around in tandem.

The final trio of songs sees Hot Days romping and sweating with sonic boisterousness, The Bottom snarling with noise festering attitude, and Good Aint Good crooning in bold raucous style as punk, rockabilly, and simply rock ‘n’ roll unite in one anthemic roar.

Sin Alley is exactly as it suggests; every song a gateway into promiscuous sounds and inhibition free antics and each track eagerly uniting to make up one of the year’s most thrilling propositions so far. The Elixirs are ‘back’, bigger, bolder, and badder than ever; bliss!!

Sin Alley is out now via Boneyard Elixir Music; available @ https://elixirs.bandcamp.com/

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Pete RingMaster 04/05/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Drive On Mak – Babylon

Creating a magnetic mix of punkabilly with blues coated rock ‘n’ roll though that just scratches the surface, Drive On Mak is a proposition, certainly with their latest EP, which teases and tempts until you cannot resist taking attention. It is fair to say that initially Babylon pleased without making a major impression but over subsequent listens where its prowess and enterprise seemed to really blossom, the release really captured the imagination.

Texas hailing Drive On Mak is the creation of U.S. Army Vet Sean Makra who in 2011 after eleven years in the forces taking in three tours in Iraq left and began focusing on pursuing his long-time musical dreams. Three years later having linked up with his brother-in-law and drummer Scott Feigh and bassist Jason Bilderback, the beginnings of what was Drive on Mak emerged. Embracing and exploring the experiences and emotions bred by those military years in his songwriting and lyrics, Drive on Mak released the Weapon EP in 2015. Now it is Babylon luring increased attention with its individual, slightly dirty and fully tenacious rock ‘n’ roll.

Babylon opens up with its title track, its initial melodic stroking of ears the tempting lead into the song’s blues kissed reggae lined stroll. Makra’s vocals make a just as alluring invitation, his tones wearing the weight of battles and sights seen without an ounce of weariness, instead coming fuelled by a lively spirit to share and express. The song continues to carry its gentle swing through ears, epitomising the release in its quality to become more potent and compelling listen by listen.

The great start is followed by the similarly boisterous Comin’ For You. Instantly it had a firm hand on attention with the flames of Feigh’s harmonica rich enticement. Its melodic heat echoes the tenacious gait of the surrounding sounds, essences of garage rock and fifties rock ‘n’ roll aligning with blues punk adventure. It is a mix and invention which escalates the strong start of the EP before Kiss Thy Hand brings more of a seventies psych rock air to its lumbering saunter. Though the song does not ignite personal tastes as potently as its predecessors it quickly feeds an appetite already brewed, nagging away with every note and fibre of its creativity to ultimately be just as memorable.

Best track comes in the shape of the cowpunk flavoured Outlaw, a dirt clad slice of punk ‘n’ roll with dust in its climate and instinctive infection in its hooked lined character. With moody rhythms courting the defiance oozing vocals of Makra’s alongside the creative shuffle of his guitar, the track is a contagion on the ear setting up the following relaxed but manipulative swing of Player. It is another which seems to find greater heights over time though tapping feet and eager hips show its no slouch at teasing involvement from the off.

Babylon concludes with When I’m Gone, a country scented proposal with Feigh again just as skilful on harmonica as in springing catchy beats. There is no escaping a slight Rancid spicing to the track either, mostly through the Tim Armstrong textures of Makra’s tones, as it canters along with a lively attitude and infectious agility.

With its songs inspired by Biblical tales and personal observations, in the case of its title track by the Heath Ledger movie A Knight’s Tale too, Babylon has little trouble in awaking interest; it is with time and more plays though that it truly comes alive …a quality only adding to many more reasons to check out Drive On Mak.

Babylon is out now @ https://driveonmak.bandcamp.com/album/babylon

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Pete RingMaster 14/11/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Bad Luck Gamblers – Casino Maldito

bad_luck_gamblers_RingMasterReview

We are not sure how big the Brazilian psychobilly scene is but if Bad Luck Gamblers are anything to go by, it is a bold and raucously creative pasture. The trio from Sao Paulo make a riotously enjoyable taster for it with their new album, Casino Maldito, a stomping proposal sure to be a constant involvement in our playlists hereon in and inciting a greedy appetite to know and hear more of the scene it is bred from.

Formed in 2004, Bad Luck Gamblers infuse their psychobilly exploits with just as potent strains of rockabilly, country, and punk rock; it all entangling into virulent slices of rock ‘n’ roll in thrilling evidence on their second album. Its predecessor Don’t Bet on Us appeared in 2008; a well-received debut chosen by their homeland’s music magazine Rockpress as one of the top 25 Brazilian underground albums of that year. Equally live the band has increasingly impressed and whipped up a fevered fan base, sharing stages with the likes of Slim Jim Phantom, Frantic Flintstones, Mad Sin, AstroZombies, and Gorilla among a great many. 2010 saw Bad Luck Gamblers make their first European tour with shows in France, Holland, Germany, and Belgium playing the Sjock festival as part of their successful venture. Casino Maldito will ensure the band is keenly welcomed back over this side of the globe and that a great many more eager ears are aware of the threesome of vocalist/guitarist Joe Marshall, who we thank for bringing his band to our attention, slap bassist/backing vocalist Maniac Biffs and drummer Renan Pigmew.

The album’s title track kicks things off, Casino Maldito an addictive liquor of spicy grooves and flirtatious rhythms prone to fiery outbursts of tempestuous mischief. Vocally and with his invasive hooks, Marshall snares ears, the rhythmic dance of his companions equally as compelling as twists and turns come with salacious enterprise. Biff’s slaps are like a puppeteer for feet, Pigmew’s tenacious beats boisterous bait whilst combined the trio seize body and spirit with their devilish stomping.

artwork_casino_RingMasterReviewFrom the contagious mayhem of the opener, the album intensifies its temptation through Like a Bat. It uncages an even more intensive nagging of body and senses, its rousing persuasion and infernal swing cored by a delicious hook swiftly infesting the imagination and passions with vampiric hunger before 8% uncages its own attitude loaded roar. Like a mix of Demented Are Go and Zombie Ghost Train, the song has the body leaping eagerly in union with its own physical prowess. A cowpunk spicing just adds to the fiercely agreeable romp, the album getting better and bolder with every passing minute.

The darker threat of Terror Train is next; its carnally visceral character equipped with toxic grooves and predatory rhythms as well as a mix of melodically nurtured ingredients carrying a Batmobile lining to their seduction. The track is a snarling beast welcomingly preying on the imagination and setting it up for the tangy gasoline fuelled Rusty T-Bucket. The band discover yet another hook to drool over, bass slaps and swinging beats courting it’s tempting as Marshall vocally romps in the midst of it all.

Thylacinus Attack provides the instrumental suggestiveness all good psychobilly releases conjure, the guitar painting a picture as rhythms bounce before the country infused Somebody Stole my Pet Possum mischievously dances in ears with a grin on its creative face and straight after Drinking with the Devil strikes it’s sinister deal with the dark one in a melodic waltz of bedlam bred rhythms and an evolving landscape of fevered melody driven revelry and sultry seduction.

The variety in the Bad Luck Gamblers sound ensures the album is a bag of pleasing diversity continued in the wiry web of enterprise that is Shoulder Mount, a punk bred encounter with imposing rockabilly seeded riffs and raw surf hued melodies. As with all tracks, there is no escaping the freely given involvement of feet and hips with the track, a submission just as eagerly shred with closing track No Chips No Chicks, another cowpunk lined romp to get breathless over. The fact that its richly enjoyable presence is the weakest moment of Casino Maldito shows the quality and might of the album, the song bringing the release to a fine, greed sparking conclusion.

Casino Maldito is a must for all psychobilly/rock ‘n’ roll fans and Bad Luck Gamblers a band deserving the luck to bring them to global attention within the genre. Meanwhile we are off to explore what other treats lay within the Brazilian scene, come join us.

Casino Maldito is available now via Hot Jail Records @ https://badluckgamblers.bandcamp.com/releases

https://www.facebook.com/badluckgamblers/

Pete RingMaster 28/02/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Los Cabrones Profanos – Ogun Vodun

cover_RingMasterReview

Hailing from Milan, Los Cabrones Profanos is a band creating incendiary stomps from the collusion of varied strains of country blues and garage punk. The evidence can be found on the band’s new album Ogun Vodun, thirteen tracks of illegitimate stomping and blues-blooded mischief. More we can tell you about the Italian band though is limited though they consist of guitarist Blind Frankie, drummer El Cabron, vocalist Il Reverendo, and mandolin player Pollo Braineater, and have unleashed one excellent treat with Ogun Vodun.

The album opens with the sinister lure of Intro the distress; a brief guitar cast instrumental awakening ears and thoughts before its sonic tail is joined by striding rhythms and the body of Midnight Blues. As dark and dangerously seductive as its name might suggest, the track is soon strolling with a devilish swagger equipped with spicy hues of harmonica and dour yet magnetic vocals. Its air is raw, almost predacious as the song sizzles upon the senses while heading to an explosive and irritable finale of sound and energy.

Bad Boys Boogie follows taking similar spices into its punk ‘n’ roll rioting, spilling irresistible hooks and recognisable rockabilly riffs second by second. There is a touch of US duo Into The Whale to the song, though its fifties nature is most vocal and pleasing before Il Blues è morto shares its sultry and melancholic landscape of evocative guitar melodies and vocals with the harmonica adding additional flaming to the compelling wake.

The album’s great start only continues in full charge as firstly the volatile cowpunk romp of No fun down in Nashville rumbles and grips ears alongside an already eager appetite for what is on offer and straight after Brace viciously erupts upon the senses with its Black Flag meets Powersolo like dementia. The track is glorious, a flavouring of The Cramps adding extra potency to the invasion of the senses.

Siesta is 20 seconds of raw snoring, literally, before the dark swing of Figlio del Voodoo reveals its Cajun sorcery through voice and mandolin devilment against guitar temptation. The first of the two is just what it is and soon passed over across subsequent listens but its successor is pure bewitchment which never explodes into the devilry it suggests it will but thrills and blossoms because of that restraint.

Incroci has a Latin slicing to its mandolin seducing, the rest of the song’s body providing a mariachi nurtured stomping with a touch of Th’ Legendary Shack Shakers to its infectiousness, while Il Blues dei miei peccati mixes the band’s penchant for cowpunk and country blues in another quaintly hued and inescapably catchy canter with plenty of imposing shadows and fiery temptations for appealing measure.

As expected I Stomp does exactly what it says on the tin, its incessant wave of hooks and vocal simplicity a call to hips and feet, not forgetting vocal chords to rock ‘n’ roll, all only finding rest once the enjoyable dusty balladry of Hank takes over.

Completed by the Outro in Hell, another potent instrumental persuasion, Ogun Vodun leaves thick pleasure and a just as big want for more in its wake. Without breaking wholly new ground, the album is as fresh as it is inexcusably mischievous while Los Cabrones Profanos is a band all dark blues and garage punk fans should become acquainted with.

Ogun Vodun is available now @ https://loscabronesprofanos.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/loscabronesprofanos/

Pete RingMaster 15/09/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Barnyard Stompers – Outlaws With Chainsaws

BS

After their impressive debut The Way-Gone, Wild and Rockin’ Sounds of…, anything from the Barnyard Stompers is sure to raise an eager appetite and so it was with follow-up full length Outlaws With Chainsaws. Whereas the previous album stalked the essences of rockabilly, cowpunk, and country blues stone predominantly within its mischievous sound, the Denver based duo of Casey Miller and Megan Wise have taken a deeper dip in the country side of their passion on the new release, though all essences and more have a tasty place in the mix. It is twelve songs if diverse and distinctive dark devilry brought with a fifties rawness and twenty first century devilment.

Miller and Wise have collectively played in many legendary roots music outfits including The Hillbilly Hellcats and The Bop Kings but teaming together has arguably been their finest move and certainly as evidenced by the two albums since, meant the creation of a sound which whilst merging numerous styles has evolved into something distinct and unique to them. Soon to take their Backwoods Twang across Europe and the UK this autumn, Outlaws With Chainsaws is a mighty introduction for those yet to be infected with their ‘red-neck’ power.

As with its predecessor, Outlaws With Chainsaws is rife with the band’s black and open humour as well as vintage sounds turned into 942079_603596589651616_325395941_nsomething eccentric and compelling yet true to their inspirations be that the likes of Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, Carl Perkins and Hank Williams musically and also vocally. The opening title track instantly proves the point, the opening blood soaked sample replaced by a resonating rich twang from the guitar of Miller soon joined by the provocative beats of Wise. Ripe with a slow compulsive groove and throaty ambience to the sound the track lays a mix of psychobilly and cowpunk sculpting on the senses and visual evocation to the imagination. The drums of wise persistently frame the emerging red hued thoughts with accomplished incitement allowing Miller to tease discord and melodies with his guitars distinctive flavour. Though it never explodes beyond its impending dangerous breath it is an excellent start to the album and indication that we are about to have a real ride.

The following Stinkin’ Drunken S.O.B. Blues provides what its title suggests, a booze fuelled narrative wrapped in equally potent blues ‘misery’ and country bred swagger, but there are also elements of the more rockabilly aspects of say a Hasil Adkins to its engaging company. It continues the strong beginning and is soon joined in that cause by both the Cash like delivered tale of White Trash Family and Falling Down. For the first of the pair, though containing great backing vocals from Wise, it is the lyrical tale which steals the show, its story a humoured stereotypical outsider’s view of country folk whilst its successor is a slowly heated piece of emotive persuasion with hot chords and southern melodies veining a rising intensive rock embrace. It is a slow burner of a song which sounds better with each taking of its evocative breath.

For all the potency up to this point it is the tarmac rumbling Truck Drivin’ Son-Of-A-Bitch which steals the show on the album, its thumping attitude and passion guzzling energy a heavy slab of rock ‘n’ roll playing like a sixteen wheeled semi driven by The Reverend Horton Heat navigated by Carl Perkins aided by the whispers of Lux Interior. It is an excellent brute of a song finding its sinew glory in the simplicity of the drive of the duo and the dark throated tones of Miller. Its triumph is equalled immediately by the excellent Choctaw Outlaw, the flavoursome instrumental a mix of fifties craft and surf rock fire which sounds like a dessert created  by a recipe created by Johnny and the Hurricanes and The Shadows with extra spice from The Ventures and The Ghastly Ones.

The likes of the country stomping Topless Tuesday and the dark hillbilly croon Corn Liquor which features just Miller’s vocals and his old timer harmonica feed the appetite further whilst the diverse Cajun reaping pair of Snake Eyed Baby and the wonderfully sinister Shallow Grave take thoughts into more openly black-hearted adventure and mischief.

The album is completed by Seein’ Double and When Death Comes Knocking; two more appealing pieces of sultry rock ‘n’ roll borne of various aural nutrients. It has to be said before hearing the release that finding out the band had gone into their country seeded imagination more on the album left a small fear inside, that genre one we have never been able to embrace, but Barnyard Stompers employ it in their ingenious way to be another, though strong at times for sure, agreeable flavour. Outlaws With Chainsaws is a great album, one which personally just misses out on matching their outstanding debut but impressively sure gives it a good run for its money.

www.barnyardstompers.com

8/10

RingMaster 26/07/2013

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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