“Forget about it; let the two of us be a band!”
That was the beginning of French outfit Sendwood; a declaration roared when guitarist/vocalist Kriss Wood (ex-The Real Mc Coy) and drummer/vocalist Alex Mc Wood (Harmonic Generator) found themselves alone in rehearsal without any sign of their band mates. It is a spontaneity and defiance which equally fuels their music and a debut album which just makes you want to get involved.
From the first breath of Fist Leaf, there is a sense that anything could happen, that the pair themselves did not have a firm grip on where their imagination at the time of recording would take them or want to place one. The result a collection of songs which explode like a sonic scatter bomb on ears with the intent of fun, mischief, and rock ‘n’ roll. Last year saw the release of the duo’s first EP, Log Face, a potent introduction to their feral blend of blues, metal, punk, and rock which is off the leash within Fist Leaf.
The first of three tantalising instrumentals starts the album off, Riffocephalus Minus a lure of crisp magnetic beats and meaty riffs swiftly bursting into a fiery proposition, though just as quickly that in turn slips into a harmonica led flirtation before evolving once again. It is a sign of things to come, of the unpredictable devilish antics on offer.
Demon immediately bursts from its predecessor; rapacious riffs and grooves colluding with more of Mc Wood’s rousing swings to grab ears and appetite. It is rock ‘n’ roll to the core, a ferocious slab of infectious enticement easy to roar along to as also the following Needle. Gnarly riffs hit the spot straightaway, beats and vocals taunting as they bait lustier attention, the song uncaging a wild incitement of garage punk ‘n’ roll again needing just a mass of seconds to get under the skin as untamed stoner lit grooves entwine.
Then the virulent catchiness of Leash consumed ears, its grungy stroll and contagious swing an insatiable persuasion with, as in all tracks, imagination rousing detours of varying potency along the way, next up Gotham proving the point. The second of the two is an asylum of wiry grooves and nagging riffs driven by rhythmic manipulation and a vocal unity which share lyrics which may not be the most inventive in the city but has you hollering along with matching energy.
Riffocephalus Medius is a scuzzy slice of sound and temptation, a brief but potent piece of enticement setting up the snarling presence of Penny, a song as seductive as it is unbroken. As so many within Fist Leaf it just pulled ears into eager attention and pleasure in tandem with an increasingly greedier appetite for the album and its hungry sounds. Gun is no different, the track a compelling trespass of concussive yet well-balanced rock ‘n’ roll simultaneously chewing upon and caressing the senses.
The album concludes with firstly the viral exploits of Ber, a track which as the album is maybe not looking to breed uniqueness but is as fresh and as hungry to arouse as anything around. It is followed by final instrumental, Riffocephalus Rex; a piece of captivation which is deceptively calm but with a carnival in its heart which subsequently erupts into a dirty clamour before easing into its cycle all over again.
Both make for a superb end to a thoroughly enjoyable encounter. Rock ‘n’ roll should be fun yet imposing, flirtatious but aggressive and Fist Leaf, indeed Sendwood pretty much tick all the boxes.
Fist Leaf is out now across most online stores.
https://www.facebook.com/sendwoodwtf/
Pete RingMaster 22/05/2018
Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright
It is an outstanding start reinforced by the senses transfixing tale of The Ghost of Rab McVie. Strings and their electronic counterparts quickly infest the imagination, the first from the suggestive touch and craft of Susannah Clark. Metcalfe is soon within their descriptive midst, voice similarly nurturing thoughts as the song leads the listener into its melancholic heart. There is a beauty to it though which just seduces ears and imagination but with an earthiness keeping the dark surroundings fully in view before the album’s title track provides the gateway into a nefarious journey. Feeling like being trapped in a Celtic Wickerman driven nightmare, the song simultaneously overwhelms, indeed suffocates, and seduces all with increasing intensity. It is quite superb with the craft of Clark simply irresistible.
From a scuzzy wind This is Bliss springs an indie meets garage punk incitement which had the body rocking with swift submission, Gravves tempering its punk causticity and elevating their cunning imagination for virulent hooks and invasive swings. Like a mix of the St Pierre Snake Invasion and The Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster, the track quickly had juices running as too did successor Sinister Surf. Emulating its title in flavour and noir lit breath, the track simply haunts as it prowls the senses, seducing and invading with sublime ease and touch even as its tantalising grooves erupt with caustic emotion and intensity.
As opener Cry Wolf explodes on the senses, instantly there is no escaping the rapacious presence of band and song, and indeed the magnetic tones of Le Rox. Her attack is as urgent as the sounds around her with a hint of ‘desperation’ to its lilt though really it is just an earnest bred eagerness to stir things up, again just as the individual garage punk sound Pretty Pistol unleash. Riffs and rhythms collude in devious persuasion, getting under the skin as forcibly as the flying hooks and that glorious verbal trespass. There is a touch of Asylums to the track too which only adds to its virulently striking presence and to be honest if the goodness stopped right there we would still be urging attention the EPs way.
The voracious design of the album simply continues with the next pair of Wrong and Start Again. Not for the first or last time across the album, there is a whiff of seventies punk band The Cortinas especially in the first of these two with its sharp almost spiky hooks and instinctive catchiness while the second uncages a riot of bullish rock ‘n’ roll as punk as it is fifties scented honed into another irresistible and individual Nosebleed infestation.
Checkpoint Planet is a slightly calmer waltz which just as easily has the hips swinging and appetite devouring with its virulent infectiousness. As throughout the album, Pav’s lead vocal explorations are just as magnetically supported by the rest of the band’s throats, though it is the animated throb of Tama’s bass which steals the biggest portion of the passions before The Dries bursts in on a The Dickies bred lure to uncage its own voracious stomp. A fusion of sixties, seventies and current punk ‘n’ roll, the song is simply irresistible; manna to the devil in us all.