Scanner – Splat

scanner_RingMaster Review

Seeding their own devilish riots in old school punk bred both sides of the Atlantic, Pennsylvanian rockers Scanner unleash their third album to keep the aggressive roar of nostalgic and organic punk rock snarling. There is plenty more essences to the thirteen tracks making up Splat, variety as keen as the attitude fuelling the release, but ultimately album and band is raw rock ‘n’ roll in heart and temptation.

Scanner was formed in 1979 by vocalist/bassist Joe Brady and guitarist/vocalist Junnie Fortney, the band name inspired by the David Cronenberg film Scanners after Brady read about it in a monster magazine. Pretty soon the band was stirring up attention and a loyal following throughout the Central Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Washington D.C. areas. Their sound embraces inspirations from 50’s rock and roll, 60’s hard rock and surf, and 70’s glam and punk, honing it into the band’s own horror/ punk rock, surf and garage punk exploits. 2012 saw the current line-up come together with the addition of drummer/vocalist Troy Alwine, with a year later the trio releasing debut album One Foot In The Grave, And More Pissed Than Ever. It was an acclaimed introduction to the band for a great many and confirmation of the qualities Scanner fans had been enthusing about for the previous pair of decades. Last year was marked by the release of Exploding Heads in Harrisburg – Live Recordings From 1982, a live album of old material as well as the Monsters Axes & Choppers EP from Brady’s other project, horror rockers Losers After Midnight.

With the Brady conceived and produced 45 band strong critically acclaimed benefit compilation album Assault & BATtery, which raised funds for Bat World Sanctuary, also on the CV for 2014, Scanner now set sights on the broadest attention yet with Splat, and as soon as opener Fist in the Air has ears gripped and emotions elevated the thought is that punk fans of all ages and eras need this encounter in their lives. The track quickly ensures the listener is following its title, its opening throaty bassline the lure into familiar yet refreshing punk riffs and sonic spicery. Attitude is ablaze as the plain but inviting tones of Brady incite lyrically and in expression, his bait an easy involvement within the more calm but forceful blend of crisp rhythms and raw riffs.

_0_SPLAT_Cover_RingMaster Review   The strong start is soon overshadowed by Just Like Bela, the band’s horror punk invention lining the predatory gait and design of the song. There is a healthy whiff of Misfits/Wednesday 13 to the encounter but its own character shines through, especially with the inventive mix of vocals and hard rock enterprise which frees itself. As it eclipsed its predecessor, so the track is outdone by the outstanding Living Life to the Emptiest. The third track has the edge and air of Dead Kennedys to its belligerent and anthemic confrontation, entwining it with great slithers of melodic acidity from Fortney’s guitar and punching it through with the raunchy bass and whipping beats of Brady and Alwine respectively.

A rapaciously commanding cover of The Angels’ Straight Jacket comes next, the song given a no frills make-over and emerging with a feel of The Saints to its richly satisfying punk ‘n’ roll, before Biker provides its own seventies inspired enticement. The song takes ears and thoughts right back into the breaking storm of punk rock, its DIY feel a bracing two minutes of raw endeavour and tenacity.

   Letter to the Government spills seventies glam and southern dirt rock revelry in its political attack within a bluesy entanglement of sound and enterprise whilst Running Riot sees Scanner take on the Cock Sparrer’s street punk classic to captivating success before haunting the psyche with Ghost Song. All three tracks have ears and emotions fully enlisted but it is the last of the trio which seduces the imagination and passions most. Its surf/psychobilly climate has echoes of The Meteors and Tiger Army to it but, as with all songs, variety is a vocal part, here punk and seventies garage rock bring extra juicy hues.

The Turbonegro meets Jello Biafra smelling Queen of the Stage has the body bouncing around next whilst a broad smile and further burst of pleasure is sparked by the band’s reworking of Bowie’s Suffragette City. The song has everything which you will have enjoyed in the original but roughed up and twisted around a bit, resulting in a great version to rival any other you may have come across.

Mischief and humour is as much a healthy asset as the flavours and invention of the Scanner sound and all give a fun time in Yeah We Suck, a round-up of ‘advice’ they and most bands will have gained at one time or another. That urge to have a ball continues in the album’s title track, an infectious brawl of virulence which is for the most instrumental but does have a lyrical bounty consisting of just its title being repeated with increasing relish. It, as most before it, has a claim for best song within Splat but the favourite spot gets grasped at the last moment by closing song Kaw-Liga. A country music song written by Hank Williams and Fred Rose, and covered by the likes of Johnny and the Hurricanes, Del Shannon, Roy Orbison, and The Residents over the years, Scanner turn it into a dark rock ‘n’ roll predator. Riffs and rhythms almost stalk the senses as the outstanding blaze of vocals ebb and flow across its sinister surf spiced landscape. It is only half the adventure though, the band breaking out into cow punk devilry too, switching between both provocative contagions throughout for one riveting and thrilling romp.

The US hailing Scanner might be an unknown secret right now but they hopefully and should not be for much longer as Splat trespasses on increasing numbers of ears for an increasing awareness. Go get some is our suggestion.

Splat is out now.

RingMaster 26/08/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Atomic Suplex – Fourteen Inches of Fist

Atomicsupplex_RingMaster Review

Great rock ‘n’ roll always benefits from a good dose of creative dementia in its devilry and you get plenty of that and more in the bedlam that is Fourteen Inches of Fist. The new album from London quartet Atomic Suplex is nonstop ingenious lunacy, a dangerous riot for body and soul, and quite brilliant.

The UK quartet has been stirring up sonic trouble for a number of years now, earning increasing acclaim with every release and a reputation as one ferociously exciting and uncompromising band live. Stages across the UK and Europe, as well as Asia, have been shared with the likes of The Hives, Guitar Wolf, The Gories, The Adolescents, Nobunny, The Kids, Jet Boys, Armitage Shanks, Richard Herring, The Spits, The Fat White Family, The Buzzcocks, Theee Bat amongst many more whilst singles and EP’s over time, and certainly acclaimed 2010 debut album Bathroom Party on Crypt Records, have marked the band out as a must investigation for a growing horde of fans. Now it is Fourteen Inches of Fist raising a storm since its recent release, and declaring Atomic Suplex as not a must but the essential riot for all rock ‘n’ roll fans.

Sound and album is garage rock, punk rock, noise rock…any kind of dirty, insatiable rock ‘n’ roll you can think of and a torrent of fun from its first to last breath. One Man Party kicks things off with the announcement “When I say I’m a dick, you best believe I’m a dick! D- I- K.” It sets the aggressive belligerent tone which rousingly fuels the whole album, and a song which is soon erupting into a salaciously tenacious slab of punk ‘n’ roll driven by the rousing tones of Jim Suplex. A sonic web of noise is soon grasping ears through his and Emma Leaning’s guitars whilst a gloriously throaty bass sound is conjured by Dan Suplex amidst the wicked swipes of drummer JD Kickdrum. The track is pure attitude, like early Damned merging with The Sonics, and instant slavery.

The album’s title track comes next, it too a concussive explosion of sound but this time infusing honky-tonk piano, blues rock spicing, and garage rock ‘n roll devilry into its mix of raw sixties and seventies rock ‘n’ roll. Flames of brass only add to the theatre of the muggy scenery as too the gritty backing vocals of Emma behind Jim’s raw incitement. As its predecessor, the track has ears and appetite lustful, a success 14 Inches of Fist relentlessly achieves from first song to last.

Cover_RingMaster Review   Set It On Fire has limbs scything through air next with seventies punk antagonism meets psych rock contagion, its guitars and brass a resourceful scorching, whilst Wild Love invites naughty deeds with a Rocket From the Crypt meets Dick Venom and the Terrortones infestation of sound. Both tracks are ridiculously compelling persuasive yet find themselves outshine by the outstanding Firing Line. The song is manna for the ears and heart, its Mighty Mighty Bosstones like opening alone igniting the instincts to party before rhythms provide a jungle of unstoppable temptation frequented by wonderful squirts of sax. They develop into subsequent deranged toxicity further in, colluding with a just as rigorously arousing web of guitar and bass enterprise. As ever like a side show barker, Jim adds his vocal stirring to the mix for one slice of irreverent creative alchemy.

Fifties inspired and seventies coloured rock ’n’ roll gets the Atomic Suplex corruption next, the raw and caustic devilment of S. U. P. L. E. X. a tempest of sonic and vocal raucousness pierced by melodic bait and fiery hooks. It is less than a minute and a half of catchy mayhem before Two Girls flirts like a punk incarnation of The Shangri-las tutored by The Rezillos. As all songs though, air is raw, sound scuzzy, and the encounter as abrasive as it is virulent, and again thrilling.

   J.D. Attack pounds the senses like the bastard son of a Showaddywaddy and Reverend Horton Heat union, its thumping rhythms and heavyweight brawl of sound one party you know would welcome gate crashers with devilish relish whilst the corrosively scarring Ass Tecnica is noise punk knavery which, as in the previous song, twists anything from surf and r&b to garage rock into its ravenous bellow. The pair unsurprisingly leave exhaustion and exhilaration in their wake, as too the eighteen second punk assault of No Pain No Gain, a song more than backing up its title.

Like The Cramps meets The Mobbs, You’ve Got Some Nerve has the body throwing moves hips were surely not made for across its forty odd seconds, a wonderful physical test followed by some respite through the hex that is Pancho. Sultry sax caresses ears initially though in no time it is joined by a wall of sonic intrigue and adventure which has a whiff of Oh! Gunquit to it. Continuing to spill funky hooks, searing grooves, and a garage bred invention; the song is as psychotic as it is clear infection, and another pinnacle of a very lofty landscape to Fourteen Inches of Fist.

Chicken Rich is a ragtime hued haunt seeded in the past which descends into anarchy the further its nostalgia persists whilst closing track White Shoes is quite simply incendiary rock ‘n’ roll which manages to spin a tapestry suggesting everyone from Billy Haley to The Cramps, King Salami and The Cumberland 3 to Turbonegro, and Screaming Jay Hawkins to Johnny Thunders within its epidemic of unbridled energy and senses inflaming rock ‘n’ roll.

Fourteen Inches of Fist is one of the best real and organic rock ‘n’ roll album this year and of a few before, maybe the best, and Atomic Suplex the one band you were meant to lose your sanity with.

Fourteen Inches of Fist is available now via Dirty Water Records on 12” vinyl, CD, and digitally.

RingMaster 25/08/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Creeping Ivies – The Witch House EP

creeping ivies_RingMaster Review

All those with dodgy hips turn away now as we have one slice of physical slavery for you courtesy of The Creeping Ivies. Revealing a new wash of ingenuity in their sound which borders on pop, the Scottish band again enthrals and seduces with their unique style of garage rock ‘n’ roll which quite simply is impossible not to get a little lustful over. Consisting of three exotically and flirtatiously sonic slices of dark rock ‘n’ roll, EP and band have ventured into a broader landscape of invention and tempting which might be best described as The Shangri-las meets The Cramps meets The Revillos at a bordello of ill-repute presided over by Johnny Thunders.

The Creeping Ivies since forming in 2011 has been no strangers to acclaim here and across media and fans thanks to two dynamically thrilling and fiercely dynamic albums and a clutch of EPs which have just lit the fires of devilry. It is fair to say that each subsequent encounter has shown a potent evolution of the band’s garage punk/rock bred sound from the last, with a matching strength in temptation. Between last year’s outstanding album Ghost World and The Witch House, the band has seen one half of the duo in drummer Duncan Destruction leave and vocalist/guitarist Becca “Bomb” Murray subsequently joined by bassist Christy Taylor and stick man Ian Duncan. With a big change to a band which has also drawn constant acclaim for a live presence taking in shows with the likes of Viv Albertine, Vic Godard & Subway Sect, Bob Log III, and The Primevals amongst many acclaimed headlining shows of their own, there was a wonder of how things would move or indeed change ahead. The Witch House swiftly shows that as ever The Creeping Ivies are an irresistible creative lure revelling in their inspirations whilst breeding their own striking imagination as they go exploring new avenues. The hex that is their sound has developed an appetite for sixties inspired pop on the EP to go along with a passion for garage rock ‘n’ roll from across the decades. The result is an EP which is majestically glorious and ridiculously addictive.

witch house cover_RingMaster Review   It opens up with its title track, The Witch House flirting through the voodoo rhythms the band has so masterfully transfixes with from day one. Where Mr Destruction’s beats used to transmit intent and resonance like a virus through ear and bone though, Duncan’s beats are more tempered to match the, dare we say mellower, tones of the music yet cast an equally lingering network of anthemic persuasion. Murray’s guitar is just as swift in its spicy coaxing as her recognisable and exhilarating vocal shrills and punkish tone. Completed by the dark rumble of Taylor’s bass, the song swings with attitude and a flirtatious swagger ripe with simple but deeply rooting Ramones seeded hooks and nostalgia bred chords. The track is scintillating revelry to start things off but just the beginning of great deeds.

The following Only the Moon opens with its own infectious shuffle, led in by more flavoursome rock ‘n’ roll guitar and blossoming into a tenacious and composed canter of sparkling riffs and grumbling rhythmic shadows. From that same moment a vibrant melodic and catchy smile also brews, erupting in a chorus complete with inciting handclaps and a vocal tempting which only the deaf could refuse full involvement with. Surf breezes and a sultry air only adds to the compelling dance of the song; sixties pop meets modern garage psychosis at its very best.

The release comes to an end through Bye Bye Babe, a track as much seventies melodic infection as it is sixties garage rock and original 21st century devilment. The guitars seem influenced by bands like The Ventures and Johnny & the Hurricanes, rhythms by bands like The Orson Family and The Bomboras, whilst Murray is like a sultry Fay Fife. Wrapped in an invention and imagination which holds whispers of possible inspirations like Josef K and The Pixies, the song is honey for ears, manna for the psyche and a third kiss of brilliance in The Witch House.

There is no denying we have had a soft spot for The Creeping Ivies since day one but equally there is no argument in the fact the band just gets bigger, better, and more essential with every proposition with The Witch House EP the finest moment for the band yet. We keep saying that over each encounter and suspect it will not be the last time either. Ahead of Your New Favourite Garage Band, a forthcoming compilation of previous singles as well as EP and album tracks from the band, this moment in time feels like The Creeping Ivies are starting a new exciting chapter with thrilling new sounds. Time to get spooked and infested guys and girls…

The Witch House EP is out now with Your New Favourite Garage Band available from October 31st, both though Flowers In The Dustbin.

RingMaster 18/08/2015

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

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

Thirteen Shots – Black Smiles

Thirteen Shots - Promo Picture_Reputation Radio/RingMaster Review

With every release since they emerged in 2011 and unleashed the instantly captivating track Danzig, UK rockers Thirteen Shots has evolved their sound, each encounter seeing the Birmingham quartet infuse richer and broader flavours and styles into their core tempest of horror bred rock ‘n’ roll. Each step has also come with an increasing amount of acclaim but fair to say that Thirteen Shots have easily outdone themselves with new album Black Smiles. It is a dramatically eclectic mix of songs and genres honed into one increasingly captivating and addictive proposition, and what it might lack a touch in consistency it more than makes up in riotous contagion.

Since whipping up attention with the horror punk sculpted Danzig, Thirteen Shots has been on a creative and attention grabbing roll. Shows with the likes of Demented are Go, The Peacocks, Rezurex, Howling Wolfmen, and Graveyard Johnnys helped establish the band as one of the UK’s most exciting horror/garage punk newcomers and now a band whose shows and releases are constantly highly anticipated. Previous albums Vaudeville and Tales That Start With A Whisper certainly pushed the band’s sound and presence forward but it was last year’s White Noise which made the biggest step in bold adventure and diversity. Hindsight though shows its potent success and contents were just an early hint for bigger and more ambitious things now ripening within Black Smiles.

Recorded with Paul Hughes, Black Smiles is based on the old school movie experience of double features with each song playing part in a cinematic experience. It all starts with Cobradeer, which acts like a promotional trailer to the other tracks which are like serial episodes within the main feature of the album. The opener is an immediate rush of fiercely slapping rhythms and ferocious riffs, the song blasting ears into keen attention before relaxing into a more tempered stroll as the distinct vocals of Johnny Rose open up the narrative. The chorus kicks the adrenaline switch again with the song swinging between both attacks as it provides an increasingly spicy musical/lyrical introduction to the album.

Thirteen Shots - Black Smiles- Cover_Reputation Radio/RingMaster Review   It is a strong and enjoyable beginning quickly surpassed by the following Run and Hide. From the great initial throaty bassline cast by George Chick and the quickly joining equally predatory beats of drummer Tom Fenn, the track has imagination and appetite hooked. The surf shimmer of guitar and controlled tones of Rose only increase the potency as drama and sinister seduction blossom their tempting too. Subsequently a more hard rock enterprise is spun by guitarist Lewis Machip as the encounter’s chorus roars, contrasts swapping moments in the lengthening landscape of the excellent song. With its weave also knitted with garage and melodic rock as well as punk and blues tenacity, it is a swift unveiling of the variety and diversity destined to continue through sound and album.

Next Cupid´s Dead romps through fresh scenery too, its punk/garage rock devilry seemingly bred from a mix of The Clash and Blitzkid. At not much more than a brain munch past a minute in length, the track is a punk stomp to breed an addiction for and quickly matched in its individual way by the dirty rock ‘n’ roll revelry of Warewolf Party. A spicy groove is the first infection with the song’s raw air and fiery sound the second, it all united in a riveting and easy persuasion lorded over by the honest tones of Rose before it then makes way for the anthemic rampage of Garage Crew. Chick once again is the kindling to a feisty blaze with his opening dark bass prowl, every note a resonating treat leading ears into the brawling surge of riffs and rabid rhythms fuelling the song. That bass becomes even more bestial in tone as the song lurches from one explosive assault to another premeditated predatory stroll and back; punk, horror, and subsequently blues rock entwining in its anthemic contagion.

Night of Sin doses itself up with a big shot of blues guitar and rock ‘n’ roll next, Machips’s enterprise tangy liquor in the heavy intimidating embrace of the rhythms. The ever unpolished punk delivery of Rose ensures an alluring earthy feel is always present o the album, even here where strings reveal their most accomplished and intoxicating beauty. It is a constantly rewarding mix again in evidence, after the tantalising refreshment of the melodic and acoustic croon that is Interlude, in the psychotic Skitzo. A delta blues tang coats the guitar’s endeavour bringing the incoming stomp into view, the flavouring a persistent tempting as the song erupts and blazes with persistent blues punk tenacity.

A enticing swagger comes with Black Eyed Girl next, the song like a moonlit seductress swinging its melodic hips as the more restrained and continually impressive voice of Rose introduces the moment’s protagonist. It is a gripping danger and intrigue which retains its potency as the song expels another bluesy flame of raw energy and sound. The entwining continues until the song can contain itself no more and reveals itself as a dirty raucous rocker for a bellow of a persuasion.

The swinging hips of Punk Betty flirts in a similar vein to its predecessor, its saunter a punk infused hard rock bait but with the same catchy resourcefulness. It does not admittedly have the same spark as previous songs, that inescapable lure but with one delicious bassline and the anthemic mischief of the vocals, it only keeps appetite and satisfaction eager before passing attention over to the album’s title track. It too is missing something to set, as earlier tracks, personal tastes ablaze, a particular uniqueness to spark their lust but once more its dark hearted rock ‘n roll and lyrical enterprise, not forgetting predation bass and sonic veining, is nothing less than rousing.

Lost Soul is soon a full seduction though. Its surf and horror rock romance is a sultry incitement of ears and imagination, undiluted persuasion caressed by a garage rock smoulder and flirted with by a ska seeded tempting. To be honest there is an even richer tapestry of flavours in easily the best song on the album, plenty to be discovered as the track alone sparks real excitement and anticipation for the continual and increasing potential and growth of Thirteen Shots.

There is a final raw explosion of punk and garage hostility in the shape of Friday 13, a bracing and unpolished finale to another thoroughly enjoyable and riveting adventure with Thirteen Shots. As always with a record from the band there is a dramatic potential of even bigger and major things ahead, the foursome getting closer to their pinnacle each time but equally raising that bar with every offering too. They have a classic within them for sure and it will have its day but right now we all have the opportunity to go on a rigorously enjoyable romp in great exploits like Black Smiles.

Black Smiles is released on June 29th and can be pre-ordered via and in various options.


RingMaster 10/06/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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

Oh! Gunquit – Eat Yuppies and Dance


Time to meet your new favourite band and album, and the beginning of frequent visits to hospital A&E because of the twisted rhythmic effect on the body and the deranged dance-floor tempting offered. The culprits are UK provocateurs Oh! Gunquit and debut album Eat Yuppies and Dance. With more agitated rhythms than found in a Cardiothoracic unit entangled in a web of virulent contagion built on salacious grooves and naughtily flirtatious temptation, the band’s sound is pure irrepressible addiction. Hints of their devilish practices have been unveiled for quite a while by singles, videos, and an acclaimed live presence, but with Eat Yuppies and Dance, the London based quintet has just infected the world with their finest moment yet.

With a sound presumably self-tagged as rumble-bop trash freak-a-billy, and you have to say it fits perfectly, Oh! Gunquit has its seeds in a meeting between neighbours Tina Swasey and Simon Wild at a North London vinyl-only sweaty cellar club DJ night. Apparently from an energetic pogo competition the pair decided to form a band based on their mutual love of wild garage punk, exotica, raw rhythm ’n’ blues, and surf-trash. This was 2011 and since then the band they subsequently formed has become an eagerly devoured proposition across shows and festivals which have seen them playing with the likes of Black Lips producer King Khan with his Shrines, Fat White Family, Public Service Broadcasting, Andrew Weatherall, and Keb Darge amongst many. One gig even saw Adam Ant make a “crazed” impromptu stage invasion whilst radio has been just as hungry for their songs. This has all been backed by a pair of limited edition and self-released seven inch vinyl singles and tantalising videos to match. Now with Dirty Water Records, the band has uncaged their greatest bait of sound and devilment yet to seduce and enslave towns, nations, and the world.

Front Cover 2 flat (1)     With a line-up completed by Kieran, VV, and Alex, Oh! Gunquit equip Eat Yuppies and Dance with a torrential revelry which can fall into anything from psyche rock and pop to garage and punk rock, and on again to rockabilly and surf rock and that is still only part of the full musical stomp which starts with opener Sinkhole. The resonating slightly tinny beats which accost and incite ears from the first breath of the song are the sign of things to come, their anthemic lure having one single aim with their actions, to ignite body and emotions. Vocals jump in swiftly with the same impact before the song slips into a sultry groove woven caress of surf temptation over a vivacious garage rock canvas. The voice of Denver bred Tina brings an enticing tang to the exploit as does the acidic kiss of guitar enterprise which flames across the encounter, everything combining for a potent and lively start to the album.

It is an opening quickly over shadowed by the brilliant Head Bites Tail, an exhausting tapestry of dark pop and fiery rock ‘n’ roll best described as The B-52s meets The Cramps whilst being filtered through the warped funk voracity of Rip Rig & Panic. Brass seduces with unbridled toxicity across the song whilst rhythmically it is as busy and inescapable as the first seconds after doors open on a Black Friday high street sale. The vocals are equally as volatile and excitable in quite simply one quite exhilarating proposition.

Sixties beat lined and blues hued Caves strolls in next, its suggestive swagger as tempting as anything cast by your favourite temptress. Once more there is a great tinge of B-52s to the exceptional enslavement but to that there are additional essences of garage punk bands like The Orson Family, the bluesy seducing of a My Baby, and the garage pop escapade of The’s in the mix. The song is pure aural sex but as becomes a habit with Eat Yuppies and Dance as soon as you think the band has hit a pinnacle they come up with an even more deviously addicted treat, in this case Bad, Bad, Milk. Vocally and musically insatiable, the track is sheer addiction from the first flying syllable and rhythmic swipe to its final infection loaded spark. Everything from the chin down is in rapid union with the merciless stomp, every beat, groove, and flame of brass simply Class ‘A’ addictiveness to which vocals and melodically mischievous hooks are the ringleaders.

     The fuzzy sax hazed, seventies psyche pop dance of Hope In Hell provides another new colour to the diversity of the album, before Pony Boy brings a rockabilly/fifties rock ‘n’ roll tenacity to its garage punk shuffle to ignite ears all over again. Think Imelda May meets The Horse Party and you get a whisper of its epidemic of sound and persuasion, again Eat Yuppies and Dance stretching its creative landscape.

Into The Woods visits a bluesy backwater scenery in the imagination next, rock ‘n’ roll keys a la Fats Domino, luring excitedly from within the sweltering but inviting climate of the song. A great merger of fifties and modern rock pop, the song flirts and dances with ears and emotions until making way for bubbly rock ‘n’ roll of I Need Help Now. As its predecessor, the song casts a spell on body and vocal chords whilst creating a new twist of dark pop adventure within ears and album, at times skipping along like a predatory version of The Shangri-Las in a fiery entanglement with Cradle.

All the big irresistible rhythms and anarchic incitements are out for Voodoo Meatshake, their rabid seducing matched by brass and vocals which in turn are bound by searing grooves and a suggestive stroking by keys. It is an explosion of lustful sounds and rousing energies, one of those feel good assaults on the senses which have you exhausted and bloated with pleasure. The same applies to closing song Lights Out; a rhythm ‘n’ blues romp leaping around fondling the passions like a mix of The Revillos and King Salami and the Cumberland 3. It is a glorious slice of sonic diablerie, a mouth-watering hex on feet and passions bringing the similarly sorcerous Eat Yuppies and Dance to a dramatic and thrilling end.

There is no remedy to the potency and create toxins of Oh! Gunquit’s sound, just more lust emerging with every listen of their brilliant first album.

Eat Yuppies and Dance is available now via Dirty Water Records @!/Oh-Gunquit-Eat-Yuppies-and-Dance-CD/p/47051183/category=2749844 and

RingMaster 02/05/2015

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