The Dahmers – Down In The Basement

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.

Upcoming Live Dates:

02/11 – Skövde In Rock Fest   Skövde, SWE

03/11 – Halloween Meltdown   Eskilstuna, SWE

04/11 – Kulsturkvarteret   Kristianstad, SWE

15/11 – Cinema   Aalst, BEL*

16/11 – Dusseldorf   Ratinger Hof, GER*

17/11 – Eindhoven   Helldorado, NL*

* Supporting The Dwarves

https://www.facebook.com/Dahmers/

Pete RingMaster 26/10/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Healthy Junkies – Delirious Dream

Two years on from the album Box Of Chaos outshining its impressive predecessor The Lost Refuge, which had started the trend by eclipsing the band’s debut Sick Note, UK punksters Healthy Junkies have again repeated the feat with their fourth album. Delirious Dream is a collection of tracks embracing the band’s broadest kaleidoscope of flavours yet over a punk ‘n’ roll landscape; a 15 song strong release which is for sure their finest moment to date keeping expectations clueless and the imagination enthralled.

Recorded with Brian O’Shaughnessy and mastered by Pete Maher, Delirious Dream is the songwriting and sound of the band at its boldest yet most intricately woven. With the founding duo of vocalist Nina Courson and guitarist/vocalist Phil Honey-Jones tapping into their most imaginative depths yet alongside the rhythmic prowess of bassist Dave Whitmore and drummers Pumpy and Adam Lewis, Healthy Junkies have created a new magnet of sound which needs mere seconds to demand attention through album opener When All Is Said And Done.

Instantly the track is strolling eagerly through ears with a rich melodic hook amidst eager rhythmic bait, all the while keys adding their intimation. Courson’s ever alluring vocals quickly join the mix, adding elegance and harmonic radiance to the earthier breath of the song. With drama soaking every note and syllable, theatre intensifying across the host of twists and turns making up the simply outstanding punk ‘n’ roll incitement, the track immediately sets the high creative bar and striking character of the release.

This Is Not A Suicide brings its own exceptional roar of sound and enterprise straight after. Dirtier and grumpier than its predecessor and driven by attitude fuelled riffs and senses biting rhythms, the track sets its own particular pinnacle within Delirious Dream. Nagging grooves and garage punk spicing also add their incitement to the bracing trespass before the even tempered rock ‘n’ roll of Juliet’s Call saunters in. Like a gothic rock nurtured punk inspired collusion between Siouxsie and The Banshees and In Evil Hour, the track is pure virulence.

The band embraces more hard rock like hues for next up Johnny Demented, its raw sonic haze magnetically tempered by Coulson’s angelic tones. The song did not quite raise the roof as its predecessors in appetite and the passions here yet from start to finish it is a full captivation raising the ante as its holler and breath erupt across its eventful body.

Through the infectiously tenacious croon of Some Kind Of Girl and Ghost Without A Soul with its shadow draped atmosphere, riveting sound and adventure abounds with unpredictability and rapacious enterprise while All Talk brews an emotive entanglement of old school punk and classic rock in its own individual recipe of temptation. All three tracks easily grip ears and appetite though the delicious punk instincts and pop flirtations of The Sound Of My Guitar outshine all. The track is Class-A addiction spurning late seventies kissed new wave/punk rock slavery as ripe with hooks and celebration as a festive holly bush.

The following Boy Or Girl is something akin to a meeting of early Blondie and The Photos and quite irresistible with its successor, Meet & Greet preyed on an already aroused hunger for what is on offer with its predacious escapade resembling a kind of X-Ray Spex/Spinnerette collusion as the band take a swipe at musical greed. It is simply another major highlight of the album echoed in success by the frisky indie/pop punk animation of This Condition with Honey-Jones leading and dueting on vocals.

The album’s worst track is next and These Boots Are Made For Walking is nothing less than full pleasure as Healthy Junkies make the classic their own by giving it a predatory breath as classic rock guitars blaze before James Dean rumbles with old school punk ‘n’ roll lust and uncontainable ebullience.

The album concludes with the pair of Theft and Part 2. The first is a rebel rousing protagonist vivaciously prowling the senses before breaking into a similarly ravening rock ‘n’ roll canter with erupting psych rock bred flames while the second is its dark but incandescent underworld where physical and emotion elements of the tracks shimmer, smoulder, and burn.

Together they make for a fascinating conclusion to Delirious Dream, echoing its title despite their brooding volatility and showing there is so much more to the creative palette of Healthy Junkies, one they have still yet to fully explore.

We always feel a sense of excitement when a new encounter with Healthy Junkies comes along as they have always manage to outdo themselves so far; Delirious Dream is no exception; in fact it pretty much outshines most other punk/rock nurtured offerings around this year too.

Delirious Dream is out now via Banana Castle Records/Cargo Records UK across most online stores.

http://www.healthyjunkies.co.uk/   https://www.facebook.com/healthyjunkiesband   https://twitter.com/HealthyJunkies

Pete RingMaster 17/10/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Primals – All Love Is True Love

The outcome of a collision between the raw essences of crust lined garage punk and pop infused grunge accosted by noise baiting metal, All Love Is True Love is the fierce new album from LA based rockers The Primals. Though it bears hungry ferocity it is equally as infectious and catchy as it is invasive; it all making for one of the year’s most irresistible debuts.

The Primals is a trio made up of Darkest Hour vocalist/guitarist John Henry, former Dead To Fall member in bassist Chad Fjerstad, and drummer Andrew Black who previously was part of The Explosion, and Title Tracks. Exploits within those outfits has meant anticipation once The Primals’ first release was announced has been keen among a great many and we can say that though there have been a fair few introductions this year which have simply ignited attention and excitement with plaudits in close quarter, All Love Is True Love is ahead of most of the field.

Produced by John Reis (Rocket From The Crypt, Drive Like Jehu, Hot Snakes), All Love Is True Love immediately descends on ears with Hello Cruel World. Instantly a guitar gnaws on the senses, in turn triggering a caustic wave of noise as contagious as it is a visceral trespass. Even in its carnal insurgence there is an instant catchiness of pop sensibility which surges through the confrontation, vocals riding that temptation with a melodic snarl. Similarly soliciting is the predacious quality the band’s sound carries, one which permeates the whole album to compelling effect.

It is an outstanding rousing start as potently backed by the relatively gentler antics of Dead Predators. A web of noise fuelled clamour, earthy bass led swing, and sonic enterprise, the track quickly beguiles and tempts hips and imagination into an animated collusion before Another World To Call Your Own launches its own untamed will upon the listener. Across the three tracks alone there is no escaping a strong whiff of bands such as Nirvana and The Pixies, a breeze teasing throughout the release yet already there is a distinct character and presence which is all Primals as epitomised by their latest single which is next up.

Pity City saunters in on a rhythmic swing; flames of guitar crossing its lure as the melodic calm of vocals add infectious charm. The track simply becomes an insistent radiance spilling invitation where contrasting textures unite in imagination; a pop song in its rawest most accessible state before Fortune & Sons shares its punk ‘n’ roll animation with rapacious relish. It too has an inherent infectiousness which borders the viral and an equally belligerent breath which growls discontent as easily as it brews seduction.

Next up The Wayward Impaler is untamed pop rock which similarly melodically tempts as it shares sonic agitation while It’s Personal saunters in straight after with a heavy drawl and shadowed intentions before unveiling its own pop natured virulence within those persistent trespasses. Both tracks swiftly get under the skin, the latter especially laying a mighty hand on best track honours before Together Whatever has its say with its Sonics-esque, old school punk holler. Rhythms stomp and guitars abrase as the track incited body and the passion, another slice of quick addiction with a potent claim on the top dog title.

The album concludes with firstly the slow crawl of Save Me, Baby; a plaintively melancholic croon with rhythmic tempestuousness and lively pop rock animation, and through the rousing grunge punk ferocity of I’m Coming Home. The final track is pure threat and seduction, each in equal measure invading the senses in a “we are united, love you all and fuck the world” like declaration.

It is a stirring and tremendous finale to an album which has all the elements and deeds to re-invigorate already hungry or alternatively any stale appetites for rock music. It is a gem, simple as.

All Love Is True Love is out now via Southern Lord and available @ https://theprimalssl.bandcamp.com/releases

https://www.facebook.com/ThePrimalsLA

Pete RingMaster 24/09/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Watch Rome Burn – Vox Heretic

Seattle has been one of the most refreshing conveyor belts of musical pleasures over the decades and shows no signs of slowing down as from its dirtiest grunge punk depths it brings us the inimitable sound of Watch Rome Burn. The two brother outfit has just uncaged their new album and it has swiftly become something we for one cannot get enough of.

Last year the pair of guitarist/vocalist Drew and drummer Jestyn Cummings lured eager plaudits with Now on VHS, an attention grabbing encounter laying the seeds for the rapacious roar of its successor Vox Heretic. The new release escalates the dirty crust-esque punk aspect of its predecessor but equally embroils itself in the grunge and alternative rock side of that first proposition but drawing on the rawest breath and predacious intent of both to leave the former laying in its dust.

Vox Heretic immediately had ears and imagination hooked as a sonic drawl brought opener Consumed into view. Its broiled shimmer in turn triggered a rhythmic prowl aligned to an equally skulking vocal prowess, all the time that sonic dissonance pulsating. Never particularly deviating from its initial intent but rich in intimation, the track is superb; pure creative devilry setting up the promise and adventure of things to come.

The following Thief is soon into its carnal swing, its unapologetically raw air and flesh instantly magnetic and bawling away with proto punk causticity. As with the first, there is an inherent catchiness which had the body bouncing even when tempered by the song’s feral garage rock belligerence. Abrasive and bracing, the track just hit the spot as too unerringly did next up Motley. Like a mix of a proto punk Queens Of the Stone Age meets the hungry rock ‘n’ roll of The Sea, the song is another predatory trespass which simply aroused body and spirit.

On The March flares up with an industrial hue next but is soon into a rock ‘n’ roll stride with Jestyn’s rhythms manipulating song and listener as Drew further incites both with his electric intrusion and vocal dexterity. Imagine a punk ‘n’ roll Therapy? and you get a whiff of the outstanding stomp.

The duo showed they can glow with undiluted melodic enterprise too, though Crystallized straight after equally has a fried haze to its coruscating glow while with Be What You Want they caused inescapable addiction. Its caped crusader tinted swing instantly got under the skin, vocal enticement adding to the potency as similarly the wired almost uptight grooves which escape the strings of Drew’s guitar.

The release is brought to a delicious close by firstly War Blues, a track surely bred from illicit blues stills hidden in the shadows of the band’s home city. Its melodic liquor is intoxicating punk blues soaked in the contagion which flavours every track within Vox Heretic; a blend which had the body worked like a puppet before things are finally concluded by the melodic seduction of Up Here. Uncluttered but as rich in flavour as you would wish, the song is a captivating sundown on the album, a final surf kissed glow and sigh which only lures ears right back into the release.

Vox Heretic is Watch Rome Burn knocking on major attention, a door which surely cannot stay closed much longer against the indisputable roar and often corrosive but ever alluring raw charm of their sound.

Vox Heretic is out now and available @ https://watchromeburn.bandcamp.com/releases

https://www.facebook.com/jointheburnlegion/

 Pete RingMaster 22/09/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Teksti-TV 666 – Aidattu Tulevaisuus

Hailing from Finland, Teksti-TV 666 creates a sound which is quite simply a web of entrapment, every strand bred from an individual flavour but all colluding in a compelling and inescapably contagious proposition called Aidattu Tulevaisuus. Simultaneously, the album is as punk and garage rock as it is shoegaze, metal, and psych rock bred with plenty more ingredients involved. Yet tagging it is easy, pure temptation.

The Facebook page for Teksti-TV 666 lists band members at eight, the press release for the their new encounter says six; a line-up which consists of four sometimes five electric guitars. Whoever is involved, how many strings are manipulated, what is easy to establish is that the band knows how to get under the skin with songs which dance with the imagination whilst toying with the senses. As evidenced by Aidattu Tulevaisuus, each track springs a multi-layered incitement whether a sonic roar or a calm bred intimation and all evolving in the ear with deception, craft, and imagination.

Aidattu Tulevaisuus opens with Turbo-Mondeo, the song emerging like sonic steam from a hidden pipe; coming closer until in engulfs the senses and that swiftly enterprising bond of guitars begin weaving their captivating tapestry. It is an assault though which is a blend of mellow and forcefulness, brewing a more volatile state as vocals and harmonies entice with a raw siren-esque hue. Already the variation in flavour and texture is uncaged, the track unveiling its tempestuousness in between unpredictable serenity for a perpetually infectious trespass.

The album’s track follows and immediately winds something akin to My Bloody Valentine, The Jesus and Mary Chain, and a punk nurtured Asylums round ears. That inherent catchiness surging through the first track is as hungry in the second, as too another entanglement of styles within a mercurial climate of intensity and creative rabidity before Rauhankone in turn spreads post punk toxins. Chilled and chilling with its industrial lining, the track saunters along like a garage punk honed Leitmotiv merged with a noise pop engaged Sex Gang Children; again a rich and intricately built palette of hues embroiled in its inimitable and unique contagion.

Serverny swings in next on a Nintendo core deceit, a devious lure soon unleashing a sonic turbulence which in turn breeds its own drone cast contagion. Its incessant nagging is tempered by ever warm vocals tones and the surf sighs of a guitar but always there boasting its own cyclonic lure. It’s repetitious but never predictable invention, qualities matched within closing track Katko. From its first breath, the song is a thrilling trespass with its eager groove and crisply landing beats, the brooding throb of bass just as enjoyably niggly and irresistible within the rousingly hypnotic post punk/ noise/psych rock integrated majesty.

It is all superb stuff, every track an inescapable joy which will, given the chance, surely devour vastly more than passions beyond ours. Sung in the language of their homeland we cannot not give a clue to the lyrical themes involved but it matters little as Aidattu Tulevaisuus is a true highlight of the year and Teksti-TV 666 a band which deserves all the attention possible.

Aidattu Tulevaisuus is out now via Svart Records.

https://www.facebook.com/tekstitv666/

Pete RingMaster 21/09/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Devils Teeth – Suki Yaki Hot!

Here to incite you to commit all the bad devilish habits your mother warned you not to is the debut album from Milwaukee trio Devils Teeth. It is an encounter which has inhibitions flying in the front of sensibility and fresh addictions forging new trespasses of ill intent. Quite simply it is a bad assed stomp sure to lead all into glorious rock ‘n’ roll wrong doings.

Out of an already in place friendship, the threesome of vocalist/guitarist Jon Hanusa, vocalist/bassist Eric Arsnow, and drummer Chuck Engel emerged in 2016 as Devils Teeth. By that October they were already sharing stages with the likes of Dick Dale, The Blind Shake, Local H, The Toxenes, and Left Lane Cruiser. Their sound is a diverse and unpredictable hybrid of punk and garage rock with surf and psych punk tendencies which song by song across their first album, Suki Yaki Hot!, shows that even those tags do not really tell the whole story of an inimitable feral proposition additionally “channeling inspiration from Brucesploitation and Herschall Gordon Lewis films as well as surf and psychedelic sounds from decades past.”

From its first breath intrigue accompanies Suki Yaki Hot!, the first sonic sigh of opener Diamond Rio a scheming lure but it is when the raw strokes of guitar kick in that ears and instinctive rock ‘n’ roll passions are ignited. The rhythmic trespass of Arsnow and Engel is as unapologetically contagious as the eager throes of Hanusa’s guitar, all colluding to bring the listener to their feet to induce uncompromising swings through their hips. A fusion of traditional garage rock, mutant rockabilly, and psych devilry, the track is undiluted contagion as magnetically raw as it is skilfully woven.

The Junction Street Eight Tigers follows, a track inspired by Bruce Lee’s gang when he was in Catholic school aged twelve years old. It enters on a rhythmic grumble awash with sonic shimmers, breaking into an infectious prowl built on attitude and temptation; threat and confidence lining its swagger as the heat of Caleb Westphal’s sax adds greater lures to the outstanding encounter.

The diversity in the band’s sound is in full expression by next up Death Is Nimble, the third song a mix of funk and psychedelic tendencies around an instinctive punk rock heartbeat. A noise rock breath springs up from time to time too as the sultry climate of the track smoulders like a mix of Rocket From The Crypt and The Bomboras; captivation held in its palms in swift time before eventually the dark climes of Dirty Tricks bound into view with predacious attitude and a hungry crawl to its lively swing. Echoing those earlier mentioned inspirations, not for the first or last time there is a great B-movie feel to the character of the song; dirty adventure veining and lining its every exploit.

The outstanding Party Shark Shake is next up, the song as the band’s actual name triggered by a book, no surprise here, about sharks by Susan Casey. You can almost feel the warm liquor soaked sand between the toes as the track stomps through ears, the swell of its melodic tides dragging the imagination and hips into the dangerous currents and depths below the biting dynamics of the song. Across the riveting attack, it builds up to rousing crescendos though at no moment is it anything less than an over powering incitement to body, spirit, and imagination. Imaging The Ghastly Ones and The Trashmen in collusion with The Damned and The Revillos and you get a whiff of the album’s greatest moment.

Every one of its ten propositions is a momentous moment within Suki Yaki Hot! to be fair though as proven by the slow slung psychotic swagger that is Understanding The Hands Of A Killer. Its swing is pure devilry accentuated by the flames of sax and the vocal rapacity of Hanusa and Eric Arsnow amidst the cries of victims while its successor, Jet Jaguar is the spark to lust fuelled movements from body and vocal chords where never being a puppet has been so much fun and exhausting.

Who’s Laughing Now? is just as deviously compelling, rhythms and guitar weaving an inescapable hook rich trap infested with the similarly and ever potent vocal incitement of the band. It was another which grabbed a loftier foot hold in the unrelenting peaks of rousing pleasures in the album’s stirring landscape continued by the grappling holds and rhythmic attack of Sakuraba, a song bred from the inspiration of the Japanese MMA fighter and wrestler.

The album is concluded by People Of Earth, calm in relation to its predecessors but a menace lined psych punk croon with mayhem in its genes and contagion in its relentless rhythmic persuasion and raw sonic toxins. It is a superb final shanghai into slavery by the Devils Teeth sound and imagination; a devious machination for salacious times and unbridled pleasure, both the rewards for letting Suki Yaki Hot! infest ears and attention.

Among some real undiluted pleasures this year, the Devils Teeth debut is there at the head of the field.

Suki Yaki Hot! is released August 24th via Triple Eye Industries; available @ https://devilsteeth.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/devilsteeth/

Pete RingMaster24/08/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Wood Chickens – Must Die

Pic Courtesy of Madylen Photography

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

https://www.facebook.com/woodchickensband/   https://woodchickens.bandcamp.com/

 Pete RingMaster 14/08/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright