Witching Waves – Concrete/Chain Of Command

Duos especially within the ranks of garage rock and punk are becoming a real source of imaginatively flavoured treats this year, the likes of the garage punk blessed album Ghost World from The Creeping Ivies and the sixties garage pop punk glory of the self-titled Kristy And The Kraks EP just two examples currently igniting the passions. Now we have a further mesmeric abrasing triumph from UK band Witching Waves to enthusiastically drool over.

Hailing from London, the band is the creation of Emma Wigham (Weird Menace) and Mark Jasper (Sound Savers Recording Studio), two musicians bringing the maybe now expected union of guitar and drums for a fevered grip of noise. What does not feed expectations is the imaginative caustic beauty of the two songs making up the limited cassette single, Concrete and Chain Of Command simultaneously seductive and rapacious as well as strikingly dramatic. Sound wise the band brew up a raucous and evocative mix of garage punk and post punk, but also a healthy melodic acidity which teases and captures the imagination even further. It is an abrasive encounter but one with incendiary tempting to fire up ears, thoughts, and passions.

Witching Waves began in the April of 2013 and since forming has bred a strong reputation for themselves through their stripped down attention grabbing sound and their appetite to share it across as many shows as they are able. There is a definite ’77 independent feel to the sound and presence of the band, in their approach to music and a DIY attitude. The new Soft Power Records release follows the band’s self-titled release on Suplex Cassettes last year and threatens to cast Witching Waves into a whole new intensive spotlight.

First track Concrete wraps itself around the ears with a scuzz kissed lure of guitars and belting rhythmic incitement, the track teasing whilst demanding attention. The opening hook has a definite Buzzcocks lilt to its grazing potency, an enticing call coaxing in the similarly pleasingly honest vocals of Jasper. The song manages to be melancholic and vibrant at the same time, never favouring either trait but giving both a healthy voice to intrigue and involve thoughts. The entrance of Wigham’s equally unfussy voice sparks a small urgency in the beats though the song never breaks a sweat across its enthralling body. For just a two piece there is plenty of variation and adventure within the encounter, the outcome bringing the idea that if the Yeah Yeah Yeahs became The Cramps it would sound like this.

The song is a masterful persuasion and skilled provocation of emotions but only an appetiser for the outstanding Chain Of Command. The song is glorious and outshines its companion with ease. An opening croon of guitar with its slight surf rock twang steals full attention first before an additional citric groove weaves its way around the senses. Both provide a sultry suggestiveness to cling tightly too, rhythms only caging their potency until the song erupts into a thumping stomp of flaming dishevelled sonics, coarse melodic toxicity, and anthemic rhythmic and vocal seducing. The track scorches the senses with its sonic fire, at times meandering and exploring barely connected pastures before reeling it all in for ridiculously infectious and insatiably addictive choruses, maybe better described as orgies of seductive brawls. The song alone will make you develop a stalker like appetite for Witching Waves and in companionship with Concrete provides evidence that this is potentially a boundary pushing band of the future.

The single is a very limited proposition so it is suggested to act fast, its 25 blue cassette option already sold out leaving 75 baby pink versions to be snapped up, though there is a 12” vinyl EP planned for the summer also on Soft Power.

Concrete/ Chain of Command is out on April 21 via Soft Power Records.

http://softpowerrecords.bandcamp.com/album/concrete-cassette-single

http://witchingwaves.tumblr.com/

9/10

RingMaster 20/04/2014

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Kristy And The Kraks – Self-Titled EP

Casting a seductive web of sixties and garage punk, Kristy and the Kraks has a sound which sidles up to the imagination with lips pouted and provocatively swaying hips before adding a sonic glaze to the affair which permeates psyche and passions with equal tenacity. Hailing from Vienna, the band has just released their debut self-titled EP, a release consisting of four songs said to be inspired by Le Tigre and Julie Ruin. It is a raw and enchanting blaze of punk enterprise which croons and teases as its scores the senses in a presence which for us is best described as The Cramps and The Creeping Ivies meets The 5 6 7 8’s and The Crystals.

Kristy and the Kranks is the creation and union of Kate Kristal (Rabe, Dot Dash) and Ana Threat (The Happy Kids, Bretzel Krake Hoffer), the two coming together for the project in the spring of last year. Providing a temptation of two sets of vocals, a single guitar, and a basic stand-up drum set, the pair alternating instruments for certain songs, Kristy And The Kraks mesmerise with their sound. Like the best strains of garage punk the band makes a startling first impression, one which challenges and intrigues predominantly but it is not long before their lo-fi wiles and simple melodic toxicity become an irresistible and captivating temptress.

A resonance of drums opens up the EP as I Don’t Love You No More steps into view, the initial beckoning soon joined by sultry calls of guitar, both aspects gentle in their persuasion and gait at first. As the vocals come forward a more flaming voice emerges in the guitar strokes, their acidic tempting deliciously raw edged as they align with the smouldering harmonies which skirt the similarly heated vocal lead. The chorus brings a flush of urgency behind its melodic enticement which then switches to and fro with the previous more even tempered but fiery narrative. The song and sound is quite compelling, like a humid union of The Shangri-Las and The Fall and thoroughly absorbing.

The following Twentyone is forty two seconds of irresistible addictiveness. It is simply a hypnotic stride of beats inflamed by scuzz grilled guitar with intermittent vocal shouts striking across its bow. There is very little more to it but boy is it effective and inflammatory for the passions, riling and lighting them up for the next up No No No No No. The third song, which has also been the source of the band’s debut video, opens on a sensational throaty twang of guitar, its resourceful baiting of the imagination complemented by harmonic waves of vocals and a courting percussive coaxing. The song flirts with its moves and sounds, its swerves and tempting as raw and seductive as you could wish for. There is something primal about the song and the overall sound of the band, an instinctive lure which you cannot tear yourself or emotions away from, with this track arguably the most naturally bewitching of the four.

The just as masterfully magnetic Suicide completes the contagious incitement, the song veining its shadows with sirenesque harmonies entwined in rich guitar colour as well as a rhythmic punctuation. It all combines to provide a gripping drama with a healthy whisper of The Slits to its invention.

The EP is a magnificent debut, a release which increases its persuasion and beauty over each dive into its vibrant uncluttered depths. A release for garage punk, post punk, and lo-fi melodic punk fans, Kristy And The Kraks has announced themselves with one lingering fascination of a debut. Expect to hear and enjoy a lot more of this charismatic band.

The EP is available as a limited edition 7″ as well as a digital download via Totally Wired Records now!

http://totallywiredrecords.bandcamp.com/album/kristy-and-the-kraks

http://www.facebook.com/kristykraks

9/10

RingMaster 19/04/2014

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Damn Vandals – Rocket Out Of London

It is fair to say that psyche rockers Damn Vandals swiftly set themselves a place in British rock as one of the most exhilarating and promising propositions with their 2012 debut album, Done For Desire. It was an encounter drenched in originality and a feverishly diverse flavouring setting the band apart from most. To confirm and stretch all of its potency within a new mentally twisting maelstrom of psychotic goodness, the London band now unleash the senses infestation that is Rocket Out Of London. It is a glorious swagger of caustic abrasion and acidic ingenuity honed from a brawling incitement of garage punk, psyche and stoner rock, as well as a vein of raw punk, simply put demented rock ‘n’ roll at its most addictive.

As for a great many, our admittedly eager affair with Damn Vandals began with the release of their Beautiful Mind EP, a widely acclaimed encounter awakening attention and appetite for the potential and instantly impressive presence of the band. The release and subsequent songs though was only the taster for bigger and major things to come, Done For Desire thrusting the quartet to new levels and into a richer spotlight with its release. Uncompromising but with a contagion to its presence which works under the skin like a welcome niggling itch, the band’s sound has found a new depth and power to its virulence with the new release whilst still retaining the raw dark textures and unhinged threat which stirred up the passions so quickly upon their emergence. As evidenced by Rocket Out Of London, it has become a twisting intrusive beast which wraps with almost insidious intent around the ears, permeating every pore and synapse with an exhaustive toxicity which simply ignites the imagination and passions. Produced by Julian Simmons (Midlake, Ed Sheeran, Guillemots, Goldheart Assembly) as was its predecessor, the album takes the listener on a dirty and intimidatingly shadowed ride through explorations of themes such as celebrity stalking, hard liquor, death by dreams, madness and homeland security amongst many but ultimately just through the creative mad ingenuity of the band.

The album opens with the first single uncaged from its wonderful aural rapaciousness, Twist Up And Tangle. Released mid-March, the song laid down the strongest bait for the full-length and still holds its intensive grip with an epidemic bait of granite sculpted rhythmic punches and scything sonic swipes of guitar. From its first second the song is an inescapable cage for the senses and emotions, a scarring provocation soon given richer fuel by the ever distinct and voraciously delivered vocals of Jack Kansas. The track is swiftly into a predatory stride, prowling around the ears with a sonically slavering intensity from the guitar of Frank Pick and the dark throated voice of bass held in rein by Adam Kilemore Gardens but still adding commanding menace to the whole of the psychotic fare. It is a masterful and insatiable stalking driven by the magnetic beats of Chris Christianson, but one which with its spewing discord and melodic flames as well as corrosive hooks and breath, provides a raucous dance to shield the fact we are being preyed upon.

Like a mix of Fatima Mansions meets The Birthday Party, the opener alone wakes a hunger to which the following Cities Of A Plastic World adds its own imaginative virulence. The track opens with a rhythmic drama speared by a ridiculously contagious hook, its abrasing hot touch a niggling pleasure just hard to get enough of. Around its tempting Kansas again parades the song’s narrative with unbridled expression whilst the guitar of Pick continuously lights up new corners and adventures to court his primary enticement with skill and enterprise, the album easily his finest inventive and moment yet, as it is of the band itself. The track sculpts another immediate pinnacle in the impending lofty range of the album and is soon equalled by Too Lazy To Die Too Stoned To Live, a sultry stroll with a citrus edge to its grooves and melodic teasing. There is a definite lick of Queens Of The Stone Age initially and Eagles of Death Metal later to its constant erosive taste and hypnotic stance.

I Bring You Love which made up part of the earlier mentioned single keeps the album coursing potently through the body, its psychobilly/Cajun swamp-esque stomp with sliding toxic mesmerism and blues bred frisking irresistible. The track just gets better and more virulent with every crossing of its red-neck terrain with dirty violating rock ‘n’ roll scenery. With more than a feel of Screaming Blue Messiahs to it and always an essence of the previously mentioned Cathal Coughlan led band to the presence of Damn Vandals, the track is a delicious lingering antagonist to unreservedly submit to.

Both Number One Fan and Whisky Going Free provide a new mischief to fully devote attention and passions to, the first merging classic and incendiary garage rock for a rampaging stomp built upon the intensive frame work of Christianson, a cage again laced with riveting guitar revelry and craft. Its successor sidles boisterously up to the ears with tight sinews and deviously coaxing addictive grooves, the track a less expansive dark tango than say the last but with a no less leaner determination in its air and voice to seduce and inflame the passions, which it does with ease.

The following I Hate School hits the spot perfectly but lacks the spark of other tracks, a familiarity and somewhat predictable essence to its body slipping up against the surrounding triumphs. To put it into context though, with absorbing blues/psychedelically teased guitar invention from Pick and a certain unavoidable catchiness to its lure, the song still has feet and emotions fully engaged before next up Mad As Hell takes them on a similarly successful and potent ride, if again without quite matching earlier heady heights. The track rumbles and strolls with attitude and a thought immersing design all the same to keep the fire for the album burning eagerly.

The closing pair of tracks takes the release back to its highest plateaus, the first This Music Blows My Tiny Mind, another incitement with the stance of a predator and the drive of a volcanic eruption expelling sizzling melodic flames, searing hooks, and climactic rhythms building to a quite scintillating final drama. Its successor, the title track brings the album to a glorious closure, its addiction forging rhythmic slavery and scorching guitar endeavour an inescapable virulence guided as masterly as ever by the gripping tones of Kansas. Like a mix of QOTSA, Julian Cope, and Rocket From The Crypt, the track is a brilliant finale to a quite outstanding taking of the soul.

Rocket Over London with ease reveals that Damn Vandals is no longer the potential future of certainly raw British rock ‘n’ roll and garage punk but the template.

http://www.damnvandals.co.uk

http://damnvandals.bandcamp.com/album/rocket-out-of-london

9.5/10

RingMaster 07/04/2014

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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The Creeping Ivies – Ghost World

Taking senses and imagination on another psyche ripping helter skelter of raw and sonically sculpted rock ‘n’ roll, Scottish duo The Creeping Ivies unveil their second album Ghost World and prove themselves yet again to be one of the most exciting provocateurs of primal incitement. The new full-length from the band is a riotous seduction of garage punk and naked rock ‘n’ roll with plenty of spices from psychobilly to punk rock. It also sees the band at its most potent and insatiably virulent yet, the release loaded with deliciously caustic and masterfully magnetic, to steal from the title of one of their earlier songs, buzzbombs.

The Creeping Ivies consists of Becca Bomb providing piercing, coarsely sirenesque vocals and raw sonic guitar vivacity and Duncan Destruction who brings heavy thumping, rapaciously intruding beats to the thrilling equation. Their union is a simultaneously primitive and precisely sculpted enslaving of the senses, one which from day one intrigued and wildly enthralled. First release the Rock N Roll Party EP in 2011 stirred up attention and emotions with its synapse searing acidity and voracious rioting, that an ever present trait expanding with greater potency on the following Ghost Train EP and debut album Stay Wild, both in 2012. Inciting audiences just as dramatically with their live performances, which has seen them share a stage with the likes of  Viv Albertine of The Slits and Vic Godard & Subway Sect, the stature of The Creeping Ivies has increased constantly within the underground scene, their sound recalling many influences but undeniably unique to them. Last November the release of the double A-sided single What Would Joey Ramone Do? / Ramona Wolf teased and tempted as the band showed a continuing to evolve invention to their sonic exploits and imagination. It certainly led to the anticipation and expectations of their next album to intensify. The two tracks hinted at the possible magnificence of Ghost World but it is fair to say that its haunting intrusive delights have emerged as a far greater and dangerous triumph than hoped.

The Dundee pair open up the adventure with the album’s title track. Instantly a haunted caress of guitar glances over ears with a caustic kiss in tow as well as a rub of riffs and the joining tub thumping beats of Duncan. Immediately enticing in its noir lit breath and grazing ambience, the track pulsates as it worms its way under the skin laying irresistible bait for the entrance of Becca’s vocals. As ever her voice holds a definite Wanda Jackson meets Siouxsie Sioux texture and magnetism to it, intensity in her delivery searing flesh and air as she and the song hit their stride. With an addiction spawning groove and the delicious occasional blaze of harmonica from guest Homesick Aldo, the track takes little time to secure full submission for its tempting whilst showing the evolution in sound and songwriting maturity poised to consume the senses  in hand with the expected sonic feverishness of the band.

The following entangling chords of The Bridge provide an instant variation to the toxicity of the album; its opening fifties bred melodic teasing charming the listener before thrusting sinew packed beats and the wonderfully torrid vocal tones of Bomb into the appealing recipe. The hook which drew the first spark of ardour as the song started continues to vein the stomp whilst a resonating shimmer to the sound engulfs and exhilarates the senses. As with all their songs, the premise is uncomplicated and minimalistic but always thick in presence and invention leading to fully textured and imposing encounters.

The intimidating shadows of The Creeps consumes attention next, their threat and imposing provocation sizeable but defused by an excellent revelry of keys, vocal wails, and the urgent dance of hooks and harmonies. Short, sweet, and irresistible, the song is then put in its appealing place by Love Kills, a brilliant blend of sixties pop, garage punk, and rockabilly energy. Imagine The Shangri-Las and The Cramps in a saucy romantic triangle with Australian band Valentiine and you have the brilliant Love Kills. The track sways and romps with revelry and mischievousness to cast a perfect raw pop song on the passions.

Ramona Wolf just sounds better with each encounter since its single release last November. It’s almost spatial opening ambience paves the way for the vocal seduction of Becca to spread a temptress like devilry, a sonic medusa with a delivery writhing with searing harmonies and enslaving qualities. Musically the song is a repetitive narrative, punchy beats and scalding guitar probing and grazing respectively with singular intent beneath the harsh atmosphere of the tale. It is also quite glorious as is the next up Dream Baby Dream. Providing irrepressible flirting from the sax of Andrew Pattie within its scintillating fifties pop ravaging and punk seeded ravishing, the song stomps over and challenges the senses for another unruly treat, Bo Diddley meets Helen Shapiro at the home of The Trashmen.

Both Trippin’ Out and Haunted High School finger the passions in their individual ways next, the first a heart rapping rampage of jabbing beats and scarring riffs skirting the sinister drama. It is a tale of ghostly enterprise and inescapable rapacious shadows with a heartbeat which resonates through the bone and core of the evocative tale whilst melodic acidity and vocal colouring courts its intent. The excellent fierce smouldering is soon exceeded by What Would Joey Ramone Do?, a song which sculpts a raising of the spirits of Gene Vincent and Lux Interior with that of the song’s namesake. The track provides all you expect and much more, the Cochran/ Poison Ivy Rorschach like mix of guitar sound with the impossible contagious punk stomp of the song an epidemic for the passions.

Arguably the band saves the best till last, though every listen offers a different favourite. Forever Leather fuses sixties girl pop with a raw voracity, the song like the punk infected offspring of The Crystals and The Stooges with a heady dose of Siouxsie menace. It is a scintillating end to an outstanding album. The Creeping Ivies continue to impress as they evolve and push their boundaries, doing so without losing any of the elements which made them an unbridled addiction certainly for us since their early days. Whether their sound will ever find the major spotlight it deserves is impossible to say, such its uniqueness and undiluted rawness, but it will definitely recruit the most passionate and feverish passions from an increasingly growing legion of fans we suggest, it just needs the opportunity to make that infectious strike.

http://thecreepingivies.com/

http://thecreepingivies.bandcamp.com/

10/10

RingMaster 24/03/2014

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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The Pulsebeats – Don’t Turn Your Fucking Back On Me 7”

   It feels a long time since being introduced to the irrepressible Spanish miscreants The Pulsebeats through their debut self-titled album of late 2011. Across that distance though their lure and mischievous temptation has never waned, their release remaining a regular on the RR playlist. Its time though may have come to a ‘end’ as the riotous sounds of the Spaniards return in scintillating style with new 7” single and download, Don’t Turn Your Fucking Back On Me. Released via FOLC Records, it is a three song riot of punk bred rock ‘n’ roll which simply infects and incites full emotional and physical rebellion.

     Hailing from Santander, The Pulsebeats leapt at the world at the beginning of 2010, the quartet containing two experienced in rock ‘n’ roll from playing in The Vipers alongside another pair of musicians just as voraciously hungry and creatively energetic. As mentioned it was their debut album which sparked a keen appetite for the band, a thrilling and potential driven release which only suggested greater things to come, which the single is only too happy to confirm. Whereas the full-length had an infectious pop punk thrust to its garage punk and rock mayhem, Don’t Turn Your Fucking Back On Me reaps the contagious seeds of more caustic punk rock but without losing any of the trademark ridiculously catchy and insatiably addictive charm. Hooks and riffs aligned to a lyrical and passionate snarl once again steal the passions, but as always with The Pulsebeats fun is the order of the day and there is plenty of that thrashing around on the single.

    The title track makes the first thrust, its opening play of guitars moving into a strolling gait with a slight cowpunk lilt to its energetic stance. The vocals step in next adding a raw punk attack to the infectious provocation with a garage punk breath also barging in on the raucous revelry as the song rolls out its irresistible stomp. It is a glorious sonic incitement opening up an attack on politicians and their neglect of the needy whilst lining their own pockets. The Pulsebeats may like to rock and rock hard but they are no wallflowers when it comes to dealing with society’s issues either.

     From the excellent start, the band shifts up the gears with firstly White Little Horse. The song unleashes an opening almost disorientating melee of beats and sonically sculpted guitar teasing ensuring attention is instantly wide awake. From there it settles into a riveting stroll laced with a great throaty bass line and jagged riffs, both courting the ever coaxing vocals amid the brewing mischief of the band. Garage punk with a pop spawned catchiness, the song flirts with the ears like a mix of The Stooges, Eddie and The Hot Rod, and Buzzcocks with an extra air of The Strokes; the blend happily leading imaginations into bad habits and emotions into lustful responses.

   The final track I’ll Let You Know brings addictiveness another potent dose of provocation as guitars jangle and clash teasingly with the senses whilst raw vocals, singular and on a united front, add discordant irreverence to the party. With a ridiculously virulent bass hook the prime protagonist for the passions within the sixties punk inspired blaze of guitar and attitude, not forgetting infection, the song is a mouthwatering and exhausting rampage which anyone would sell their souls for to create or simply enjoy.

    It has taken a while to see the return of The Pulsebeats  release wise but they have made that wait an insignificant niggle with easily their best fevered frenzy yet. Don’t Turn Your Fucking Back On Me is a magnificent beast of a riot again reminding us that The Pulsebeats is one of the finest inimitable exponents of vivacious multi-faceted rock ‘n’ roll.

http://www.thepulsebeats.org

http://thepulsebeats.bandcamp.com/album/dont-turn-your-fucking-back-on-me-7-single

9/10

RingMaster 12/03/2014

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Slippertails – There’s A Disturbing Trend

 

     US rock band Slippertails is a bit of a mystery you will find when looking for info on the creators of new album There’s A Disturbing Trend. Based in New Jersey and formed by its members in Bloomington, Indiana where they roomed together, the band is apparently a duo though the only name seemingly offered up is that of frontman Nick Casertano who recorded demos alone in his basement which would eventually become this album. Other than that it is pretty much left to the imagination to wonder what the band is about, but what is not a secret is the stirring addictive sound band and release persuades with. A merger of sludge bred tendencies within an alternative rock/garage punk narrative and steered by a hypnotic vocal drawl which at times embraces shoegaze mesmerism, Slippertails creates a presence which worms deep under the skin and into the psyche with irreverent contagion.

     The album is not a flawless affair if being critical but such its potency and potential it is hard not to be excited about the prospects and future creativity of the band whilst glossing over any small negatives. Varied in fuzz drenched sonic spice and caustic imagination which sears and scores the senses, There’s A Disturbing Trend has a nagging almost pestilential beauty which just empowers and improves over time and though a raw lo-fi proposition which maybe will grate on some, the nine track tempest of noise is a masterful slice of sonic alchemy. The immediate description of the band’s sound which comes to mind is Frank Black meets Everclear, the latter thanks to the vocal delivery and alternative rock/grunge tendencies of songs, with plenty of Melvins juices in the mix but that is only part of the story to be honest as the songs soon reveal.

     Opening with its first single Hip New Jerk, the album makes an energetic entrance with keen punchy rhythms puncturing the instantly compelling smog of scuzzy guitar. The vocals of Casertano soon seize control with a Frank Black like presence which infuses into the heavy garage punk sounds too. It is an irresistible lure of a starter with a very relaxed breath which fits in perfectly with the more boisterous and scowling aspects of the song. A great single and opener it makes an early strong plateau for the album to maintain which the following Failure matches with its different type of temptation. A slow almost stalking encounter for the ears, the track seduces and intimidates with equal efficiency, flames of guitar smouldering in the air whilst bass and rhythms scowl belligerently beneath them. Again there is a Frank Black like suasion which predominantly seems to guide the inspirations for the whole album but it is not so overpowering as to dismiss any of the uniqueness of Slippertails.

     Both Walk and Garden State Of Mind ignite the appetite into a hungrier state of eagerness; the first from a hypnotic drum coaxing evolving a garage punk tempting which latches on to the exceptional rhythmic bait whilst a sonic web of guitar toxicity and effect showered vocals play out their narratives. It is one of those songs which holds a virulence which the emotions unavoidably get infected by whilst its successor with another crawling sonic festering of an approach, wraps its fuzz sculpted arms acidically around the ears before serenading them with delicious vocal harmonies alongside the ever engaging core vocal causticity of Casertano. The pair only inflates the already buoyant pleasure spread by the album and though it at times takes time to fully recruit the passions There’s A Disturbing Trend by this point already has full command of thoughts and emotions.

   The following pair of Gold Tooth and I Will Peel You Open move into that Everclear side of things, the vocals very much reminding of Art Alexakis whilst the expressive emotive sonic casting is a close cousin to that created by the Oregon band. It is fair to say that both songs fall short of what comes before them, the second almost labouring in its persuasion, but still the two ultimately convince with a craft and infectiousness which can and does only enhance the presence of the album. Things are soon back on course though with the brilliant All Seeing Eye, a song which sounds like Jesus and Mary Chain in tandem with House Of Love as they seduce The Walker Brothers. It is a transfixing mesmerism which leaves imagination and senses lost in a fuzz drizzled evocation of an emotively crafted sunset.

     The brief punk surge of Altar Wine also has a sixties temperament to its aggressive outburst whilst closing song I Wanna Take Pills With You is a psyche addled piece of sultry enchantment, a shadowed soaked melodic psychedelic glow of danger and seduction. It is a slow burning conclusion which like the album just gets more potent and magnetically thrilling over time and plays. There’s A Disturbing Trend is a striking encounter which makes you work for its rapture but pays handsomely with some quite enchantingly abrasive treasures.

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Slippertails/487759917932606

8.5/10

RingMaster 14/01/2014

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Mod Fiction – Hoax EP

   

The Hoax EP from US rockers Mod Fiction is one of those releases which from an intriguing and strangely magnetic seed in its first initial encounter grows into an irresistibly compelling and thoroughly exciting provocation. Consisting of four fuzz drenched persistently nagging tracks which simply infect and infest the psyche over time whilst breeding an eager hunger for much more from the Albany trio, the release provides an acidic and caustic landscape of minimalist noise invention, scuzz kissed guitar imagination, and hooks which are unrelenting in their temptation. Part noise rock, part garage punk, and part alternative rock, a mix which borders schizophrenic toxicity, the band’s sound merges different decades in an inventive brew that takes its time but all the time works a captivating spell upon thoughts and emotions.

     Formed in 2011, Mod Fiction released their debut album Come Back Down in the summer of 2012.Citing influences from the likes of Mudhoney, Velvet Underground, 13th Floor Elevators, Neil Young, Nirvana, The Beatles, The Kinks… and the list goes on, the threesome of vocalist/guitarist Kevin Gadani, bassist/vocalist Peter Monaco, and drummer Greg Gadani have honed a presence which certainly points and hints at their inspirations but equally sculpts an identity of its own. It does not leap out as fully unique quite yet but as Hoax reveals it is well on the way.

    A sonic spear of feedback and forcefulness surges on the ear to open up first track Quit Stalling before being rapidly joined by a heavy gaited deep throated bassline which would find a home in any L7 song. Soon acidic grooves and barbed riffs alongside crisp rhythms enter the provocation and intensify the temptation. Into its stride the track is a contagious mesh which plays for UK fans like a mix of The St Pierre Snake Invasion and Houdini, a raw melodic coaxing aligned to a punk causticity which ingrains its bait deeply in the appetite. The core groove of the song is a virulent lure from which everything else erupts and swings from whilst the twin vocal suasion only accentuates the raw and magnetic presence of a destined to be favourite of a great many, especially with another little Nirvana like spice breaking out at times to spice things up.

     It is an impressive start taken on by the following Losing Interest, a song which is rendering flaming chords and melodic tempting on the ears from its first breath. A sixties garage pop air coats the song though equally a seventies garage rock essence is working its charm just as vibrantly within the twenty first century fuzz driven keenly cast enterprise. Like its predecessor the song is impossibly infectious through its summery chorus and ever present hooks around bluesy grooves, especially at its climax, but it does just fall short of making the same impact sitting in the middle of the first song and the EP’s best offering which comes next. Silence in Stereo is a prowling treat of a song, a delicious menace which nags and probes the senses through its bass built spine and jagged cuts of jangly guitars. It immediately takes thoughts back to seventies/eighties punk and bands such as Swell Maps whilst its garage blues outbursts pulls up later decades and insatiable flavours.  The song swells and saunters along with a hypnotic allurement, which like the sonic flavouring, ebbs and flows through different gaits and structures. It is a masterful piece of noise alchemy, simple and concise within its muggy air but beautifully sculpted to belie its expertise.

    The closing track Is This Morning? for personal tastes just does not come close to matching the first three though its unique intent is as welcomed proposition. A heated ambience washes the ear whilst singular key notes plonk a lone discord narrative before all come together in a haunted union. With spoken samples colouring its air the piece is an evocative and intriguing, as well as intimidating, drama but so different to what came before that it does not sit easy on the EP itself. This is a band to keep you on your mental toes though you suspect so the track certainly succeeds in that aspect.

     Mod Fiction is a band destined and sure to challenge and thrill us ahead on the evidence of Holly Wax Records released Hoax EP. The potential revealed on the release is mouthwatering and already fully enticing meaning this is one more band to add to that ‘To Watch’ list.

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mod-Fiction/349666908443016

8/10

RingMaster 13/01/2014

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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

http://www.audioburger.com

The Amputees – Scream EP

It has been over a year since US punks The Amputees released their excellent Commence The Slaughter EP, a release which certainly put the New York City based band on the radar whilst expelling a wealth of promise for their future endeavours. The Scream EP is the next encounter to be unleashed and it not only builds on that strong base but sees the band leaping up big levels in maturity, craft, and just plain quality. Released November 23^rd via Money Fire Records, the five track release is an eclectic mix of numerous vibrant hues of punk rock for one very contagious slab of bustling rock ‘n’ roll.

The seven strong unit immediately has feet and emotions leaping with opener Beanie. A raucous riot of pop punk with a vein of Ramones like addictiveness to its charge, the track is one of those anthems which lingers and hides in the psyche to appear at its own will at any time. Described as “a theme song dedicated to their bass player”, the song stomps with energy and craft, guitars carving up the air with infectious lures whilst bass and drums add a hungry texture which only adds to the contagious body, the snarling four string presence of Geena Spigarelli especially irresistible. The vocals of guitarist Louis Ramos backed by the appealing tones of Carrie Ramos reinforce the catchy and magnetic call of the song and against the strong driven rhythms of drummer Kaleen Reading make a tempering persuasion.

The outstanding start is soon matched by the darker colder charms of Holden. With riffs striding purposefully alongside again rigidly uncompromising rhythms, the song offers an intimidation missing in its predecessor and a heavier rapacious breath. Irresistible and resourcefully sculpted grooves vein the compelling track, their ridiculously addictive and almost insolent prowess mouth-watering assistance to the great vocals of guitarist Nova Luz, her voice and delivery helping send the track into comparisons to the likes of The Distillers and L7. The song continues the grip of the EP with ease, the first two songs already igniting a real passion for the release and giving a real task for the other songs to stand up to.

Both King Jubs and the title track go for it with relish, the first a thirty second stab of punk ferocity, prime old school hardcore punk spewing exhausting exciting venom whilst the second merges hardcore and pop punk into a fiery scuzz lined blaze of sinister garage punk, guitars and vocals a great caustic combination speared by those ever brisk and urgent rhythms. Though neither quite manages to rise to the heights of the opening pair of tracks, both leave hunger and emotions wanting much more for the diversity and matured strength The Amputees have bred.

The release closes with the contagion expelling 88, a song which has limbs and energy recruited with its Ramones meets Late Cambrian like blend. It is simple, raucous, and irresistibly incendiary to the passions and limbs. A final anthemic bait to send the EP off in fine style, the song equally ensures there is no option but to go back to the start of Scream and bask once again in its punk rock triumph.

The EP is the perfect invitation to newcomers into one of the US’s best emerging punk bands. A quick mention also goes to guitarist Gary Young, he another contributing strong craft to songs though it is hard to know which guitarist appeared on which song, and to Screaming Females’ frontwoman Marissa Paternoster who provided the great cover art to the release. If you are looking for punk which maybe is not yet ground-breaking but certainly refreshing and most importantly thrilling than The Amputees and the Scream EP is a must.

http://www.theamputees.org

9/10

RingMaster 20/11/2013

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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

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Sneeze – I’m Going To Kill Myself

    I’m Going To Kill Myself is a record which engrains itself into the psyche, a collection of raw and undemanding yet attention grabbing songs which rile up the ears before seducing them with a striking merger of garage punk and grunge. In the same way the likes of Weezer and The Pixies create a contagion which follows the senses until total submission, this album’s creators, Sneeze conjure up a fluid and hungry temptation. Though arguably an album which initially does not make the easiest of engagements, given time it emerges as one of the more enterprising and riveting releases to provoke the senses.

Consisting of Derek Desharnais, Julian Moore, and Danny Boyd, Sneeze come from Boston, MA and include former members of L’antietam and Ape Up. Following on from first release Grandma in the Trenches of 2011, I’m Going To Kill Myself was first released as a limited cassette last year but now has its deserved wide release on both sides of the pond on download and limited vinyl with Midnight Werewolf Records in the US (a pressing limited to 300 on Cloudy Clear coloured vinyl), and in the UK via Essex based independent label Close To Home Records (limited to 200 on Transparent Blue coloured vinyl). It is a release you can only suspect will make the band a name on a tide of active lips once its raucous charms lay their roughened dance upon the wider world.

Starting with Intro, a track which slowly emerges from a sonic haze coated stark ambience into a full blown tirade of aural corrosiveness and equally scorching energy still within a crawling gait and oppressive breath, the album flows seamlessly from one track to another, a sonic link hooking the listener immediately leaving no chance to take a breath. The following Canker takes up the attack with striding rhythms and scarring riffs whilst the vocals of Desharnais tease and taunt words with raw and direct brashness to match the sounds.

Through both the scuzz loaded Park Her Road with its throaty bass lures and acidically melodic temptation and the potent resonating rhythmic call of Bad Head, a reference to another band teases thoughts especially with the smart and infectious hooks which vein the fried surface of sound. It is as the title track next tempts the ear with further melodic barbs that the name of the band opens its recognition. Throughout many of the songs there is a definite essence of Everclear which whispers in the ear in the contagious melodies that run through the tracks. Smothered in the distinct energy and character of Sneeze it is a spice adding to the intrigue and appetite sparked already by the album.

From the strong start another plateau is grasped with Vaticant and Dark Elf, two sure pinnacles of the release. The first is a punk rock bruising with a carnivorous grilling from the riffs and predatory snarl from the bass whilst vocals growl and snap at the ear. Barely 50 seconds in spiteful attack, it is an outstanding blast soon matched by its successor.  Dark Elf unleashes thumping rhythms and rapacious shadows which remind of The Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster whilst the caustic voice of its tense caress has a Melvins/Gruntruck like mischievous menace. Again brief the track is a burning flame of sonic antagonism and seductive grit that only leaves rich pleasure.

From the following persistently compelling Quit Shitting, the likes of Brainage Pipe, Crumb, and Under the Fridge leave further satisfaction, though this particular part of the album does dip from the impressive start. They do make for a pleasing if slightly underwhelming passage of the album which still ensures there is never a moment when attention flirts with other things and can easily enjoy the offerings before once more being sparked into stronger passion with the mighty Blank Man. It is another track with extra growl to its inventive exploits and a raging vitality cast over a mesh of chewing riffs and again the great grisly bass sound.

Completed by the more than decent Scabass and Outro and its final plaintive invitation, I’m Going To Kill Myself is an album set to recruit a wealth of eager hearts. Fifteen tracks of punk fuelled, melodically sculpted, grunge distortion it is a treat not to be missed. Go on have a Sneeze.

http://facebook.com/sneezeband

http://closetohomerecords.com

8/10

RingMaster 05/06/2013

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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

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The Rattlin’ Doors – In A Tree House

With their debut single, UK rockers The Rattlin’ Doors stand before us as a compelling and scintillating piece of devilment, a band with a sound which it would not be a surprise if it was claimed by the devil or any wickerman ceremony bred by pagan worship. In A Tree House is a riveting and thrilling shadow stomping slice of aural mischief, a song born of folk rock and cultured in a psychobilly, hillbilly, and garage punk vat of caustic revelry. Imagine the mutant offspring from a union of Eighteen Nightmares At the Lux, The Cramps, The Fall, and especially The Dancing Did, and you get a whiff of the psyched out rock ‘n’ roll of The Rattlin’ Doors.

Consisting of guitarist and vocalist Andy Teece, bassist Phil Elt, and drummer Leeroy Evans, the Worcester trio bring a fusion of rockabilly, punk, and blues into a unique recipe of their own and already have made a strong impression in the UK and over the pond. In A Tree House will only accelerate and enforce their striking and imagination capturing presence, their first introduction to the widest audience a tantalising almost niggling seed of triumph which truly ignites the passions.

The first of their ‘tainted tales of country life’ to be unleashed, In A Tree House charges up to the ear in a blaze of intense strumming before breaking into a hungry stroll of expressive and sinisterly grinning vocals alongside slide guitar teasing and rhythmic prowling. It is an immediate recruitment with a sonic hook which seduces the passions instantly. Around that barbed lure the bass of Elt romps and crawls over the ear with a rapacious greed, its menace bringing dark corners to bear upon the country rock lined stomp to find a dark union with the equally nightmare seeded lyrical narrative wonderfully expelled by the vocals of Teece.

In A Tree House is an exceptional treat with the skills of Evans caging its contents and the ear in an inescapable and irresistible encounter of sacrificial caustic beauty, village life taken to extremes for a delicious dance of picturesque malevolence. The Rattlin’ Doors is destined to find a legion of eager victims for their startlingly fascinating cause as they take over UK rock, we are already a willing conspirator so come join the burning with us.

Released July 1^st, In A Tree House will be available as a free download from The Rattlin’ Doors website.

http://www.rattlindoors.com/

https://www.facebook.com/TheRattlinDoors

Upcoming The Rattlin’ Doors gigs:

15th June @ Flapper & Firkin – Birmingham

16th June @ Himbelton Cricket Club – Himbelton

10/10

RingMaster 31/05/2013

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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

http://www.audioburger.com