Demons « The RingMaster Review

It has been a long wait for fans of Casual Nausea to get the chance to devour a first album from the Ipswich spawned quintet which formed in 2012 but time fully rewarded with what is destined to be one of the year’s finest, most irresistibly enjoyable moments. Demons is a carnival of punk rock embracing every angle of the genre imagined whilst getting its rabid teeth into the ills of the world. Street and crust punk unites with hardcore, pop, and old school punk across its belligerently devilish stomp and there is still room for plenty of other ear gripping flavours to deviously corrupt and manipulate in one unruly hook strapped triumph of a release.

Demons unleashes 19 tracks with dirty claws into themes such as “working pointless jobs and general pressures of society along with a few uplifting tunes celebrating the DIY punk scene” alongside equally rousing moments when the band is taking the piss out of us and themselves with relish. Maybe surprisingly there are no fillers in that tenacious mass of songs only prize punk agitation in its feral glory.

The album lustily launches at the listener with Vote, handclaps luring in listener and band as their voices arouse attention. It is a 3 barrel vocal machine gun led by the twin bore attack of Simon and Zoe but equally driven by the fierce tones of Ed; anxiety, anger and mischief colluding in every word shoved through ears from the opening breath of this opener to the albums final tirade. The latter’s guitar is not tardy in freeing up scurrilous riffs either, his hooks just as incisive here and thereon in. It is an outstanding start more than matched by the boisterous offensive of Cockroaches, the senses scything swings of drummer Shawn contagiously lethal as Matt’s bass magnetically groans with every throbbing line escaping its catchy stroppiness.

DIY or Die canters in next, an Angelic Upstarts scenting coating Ed’s hook spun coaxing before again the great vocal mix of the band descends on body rousing rhythms. Its proud declaration had the appetite drooling before letting the rapid incitement of Move On work on truculently animated limbs, fists, and vocal chords; its uncompromising spirit swiftly matched within the unapologetically quarrelsome Empty Rewards. Both of the latter tracks go for the jugular with a feisty intent, contagion fuelling each with the second of the two pop punk infested.

One minute of hostile hardcore scrapping under the guise of Another Way is next before Terminator leaps from its cowpunk teasing to harass and ignite participation with its vocal and continued country punk revelry; a pair of tracks which mercilessly got under the skin just as easily as Fuck Up in turn had the throat zealously ranting at the world. Maybe a song which did not quite rise up to the lofty heights of its predecessors there was still no escaping its forceful touch and incitement or the pleasure in the ready submission given.

The album’s title track bullies and seduces with a great blend of resolute aggression and melodic tempting, its virulent catchiness enslaving with the unity of the threesome’s vocal contrasts emulating the texturing of sounds increasingly invigorating the track.

It is hard to pick a best track within Demons but Blood In The Oil is a permanent favourite, its ska/ reggae nurtured stroll irresistible and a hue of The Members delicious while Predator swiped its fair share of the passions with its gypsy punk shaped antics; both tracks quickly harried for matching plaudits by the furious venom spilling assault of Corruption and indeed Defective with its touch in cheek self-deprecation to a pop swinging punk soundtrack.

As suggested there is no weak moment within Demons, just an ordering of favourites, Gonna Blow and Til The Day I Die cementing that success with their respective anarcho punk bruising and old school soaked defiance steeled assertion. Similarly Assembly Lines and Misery added further proof, the song another thick favourite with its raucous dexterity and manipulative prowess bringing hints of bands like 999 and Eater to mind within its more hardcore bred holler.

Attention is just as tightly gripped and enjoyment uncaged across the album’s final trio of tracks; Zombie niggling away with a devious hook throughout and Pay Your Sins Away simply lighting up the passions as Casual Nausea stomp like Les Négresses Vertes inspired guttersnipes. Built To Break finally brings things to a close with a punk fury which just epitomises the character, prowess, and persuasion of band and sound.

Actually show patience and one more treat emerges from the silence in the shape of an acoustic version of Blood In The Oil, a final pleasure to cap what is a quite glorious album. Punk continually gives us major moments to devour and the manic indeed deranged Demons is one real feast to get rabid teeth into.

Demons is out now via TNS Records; available @ https://casualnausea.bigcartel.com/ https://www.tnsrecords.co.uk/shop/tns-releases/pre-order/casual-nausea-demons/ or https://tnsrecords.bandcamp.com/album/demons-2

https://www.facebook.com/casualnausea

Pete RingMaster 01/05/2019

For any sporting or physically demanding endeavour it is advisable to go into some sort of training. With music it is not a requirement that is until you come up against the new album from Swedish rock ‘n’ horror fiends, The Dahmers. The band has just released Down In The Basement, a beast of a record bursting with eighteen tracks of rock ‘n’ roll fever as ferociously energetic as it is virally infectious. From its first heartbeat to its last the bands third full-length is an insatiable incitement keeping the body rigorously and eagerly bouncing. It is relentless, exhausting, and pure pleasure from start to finish.

Bromölla hailing, the Dahmers has been no strangers to keen attention having released a pair of ear enticing albums in Demons (2015) and In the Dead of Night (2017). Each has shown and evolved a sound which is bred on a patchwork of numerous flavours ranging from garage and classic punk to vintage rock ’n’ roll, sixties pop and garage rock. Each of those releases certainly pleased ears but have now been imply blown out of the crypt by the simply irresistible and irrepressible Down In The Basement.

With a mass of tracks the size Down In The Basement offers you would expect a few fillers here and there but they are conspicuous by their absence; from the opening surge of Blood On My Hands the album a full-on meal of prime cuts. The first track bursts into life on a tide of voice and guitar bred persuasion, straight away twisting and turning like a dervish whilst unleashing a wave of catchy mischief. The vocals of Christoffer Karlsson lead the way in manipulation but more than matched by his and fellow guitarist Josef Underdal’s devious hooks and the rhythmic salaciousness of bassist Tobias Augustsson and drummer Karl-Oskar Hansson. Something akin to The Hives meets Asylums the track simply stomped into ears and the passions setting the album off on a mighty course.

The following Murder Ride is just as reckless and tenacious in its own punk infused charge, sending insistent grooves and rapacious hooks through ears with a fifties rock ‘n’ roll meets seventies punk irreverence before Street Of the Dead brings its garage rock/indie pop boisterous to the already devilish party. More reserved than its predecessors but just as equipped with ripe catchiness, the song had the body fully employed in no time.

Across the classic hard rock tinted antics of Down On My Knees and the corrupted boogie woogie nurtured devilment of The Ripper new flavours and rascality sweeps across Down In The Basement, The Dahmers already revealing their most diverse web of sound which Hit ‘N’ Run exploits for its contagion loaded adrenaline fuelled punk ‘n’ roll romp. All three tracks infested body and spirit with ease, the latter mercilessly before Howling merged the rock ‘n’ roll decades with its nefarious holler for a matching success.

As suggested the album is a perpetual rush of treats which simply continue with the revengeful punk ‘n’ roll of I Spit On Your Grave and the fiendish infestation of Demon Night. Both had the body twisting like a possessed soul, their pop seeded rascality pure manipulation and inescapable corruption in the outstanding second of the pair.

Classic rock gets a nudge within next up Creepiest Creep, another track with hooks and grooves which worm under the skin like invaders into a six foot buried offering while Reoccurring Dreams is just a punk rock scourge of temptation draped with surf molestation. Both make a play for best track honours though already the list is a fair size and only about to grow as Without a Face declares its option through a sixties pop ‘n’ rock spiced saunter abound with rousing vocals and rhythms heated with fiery melodic flames.

The cinematic breath of Kiss of Dario has the imagination as busy as ever, Man Obsessed straight after sparking grinning lips as it flirts with Blondie for its prime hook as it teases an already lustful appetite for the album. Even so both are outshone by the voracious rock ‘n’ roll rascality of No One and a quite glorious cover of the Devo masterpiece, Social Fools. Both tracks show The Dahmers at their most irresistible, the first a prize roar of their untamed imagination and boldness, its successor of their inimitable punk ‘n’ roll enterprise which did not improve on an existing gem but certainly re-energised its might.

The final pair of November with its deceptively calm sixties hued, pop coated calm and dark instrumental The End brings the album to a magnetic close. The last track is another moment of cinematic intimation, an industrial creased piece which replaced a bouncing body with an imagination conjuring suggestiveness to keenly intrigue.

Down In The Basement is a momentous offering from a band due bigger and broader attention; it is not just us saying that but a collection of tracks which demand your soul.

Down In The Basement is out now via Lövely Records across most online stores.