Wild Evel and the Trashbones – Digging My Grave

Digging My Grave sees the Austrian infestation that is Wild Evel and the Trashbones return with a second full dose of their salaciously offered, instinctively untamed rock ‘n’ roll. Unleashing thirteen tracks of sixties bred garage punk with an appetite for similarly spawned beat and garage rock, all tenaciously messed up with decades of misconduct and devilment, the album is a rabid trespass of sound and feral fun which just gets more addictive by the second.

Wild Evel and the Trashbones first escaped to tease and violate ears back in 2008 when Wild Evel, the frontman of Austrian garage punks The Incredible Staggers linked up with members of former teen beat outfit The Roadrunners. Following an ear grabbing first single and a couple of splits with Wild Evel’s day job and The Satelliters respectively, 2012 saw the band released acclaim gathering debut album Tales From The Cave. It was an attention grabbing, reputation building stomp more than backed by another split, this time with Batman that same year, and more irreverent slices of sound posing as singles. Now we have Digging My Grave to greedily get down and dirty with; a collusion easy to grab straight away but with greater lust thereon in.

In its press release, the likes of Billy Childish, The Miracle Workers, and The Stomachmouths are referenced, all easy to understand as too the constant comparison to Screaming Lord Sutch but as Digging My Grave proves, the Vienna/Graz hailing Wild Evel and the Trashbones provide their own very individual proposal. It all starts with Der Bucklige, a brief slice of devilish instrumental bait warming up the crypt cold setting the band will parade their primitive rascality from. Its character is sheer temptation and revs up ears and appetite in no time ready for predacious antics of the album’s title track. Raw and scuzzy with an instantly virulent swing, Digging My Grave brings its soiled swagger to bear on the imagination, Wild Evel roaring with rapacious intent as the rhythmic trespass of Berni Trashbone’s beats pound with magnetic effect. In turn, the grooves of guitarist Powl Howl wind the flourishes of Fernando Terror’s farfisa organ with arcane intent, together it all making for a death dealing party impossible to not gate crash.

The following Bugs On My Back has a lighter touch with vocal expression to match but equally has an underlining psychosis which inflames its air from time to time. An inescapably catchy piece of beat infused garage rock around the pulsating prowess of bassist Murphy Morphine and the increasingly venomous swings of Trashbone, the song is as invasively infectious as its predecessor and soon matched in success and contagion by power pop infused punk ‘n’ roll of The Mess I’m In. Its own swagger needs barely seconds to get under the skin, fuzzy textures and flaming melodies escalating the temptation before eager ears and appetite are incited to greater greed by the rhythm ‘n’ blues soaked 300 Pounds with its King Salami and the Cumberland 3 styled shenanigans. The track is superb, quite simply close on two minutes of pure addiction stoking flirtation.

The melodically webbed garage rock saunter of Ain’t It Hard and the dark garage punk chicanery of Why Can’t We Be ensure pleasure is thick and unrelenting even if the tracks just miss the pinnacle of their predecessors for personal instincts. To be fair though, both songs still hit the spot with ease and swift success, the second an open homage to The Satelliters in word and sound before Coyote has hips and imagination hooked with its primarily instrumental playfulness.

The excellent dark toned Telling Lies easily courts attention next with its dirtier garage punk rumbles. With rhythms a tenaciously unpredictable incitement beneath the electrified melodic frolics of voice, organ and guitar, the song refuses to be ignored while Gotta Leave Town strolls along with an Escobar like volatility to its ravenously infectious and increasingly strung out rock ‘n’ roll. Both tracks are major favourites in nothing but and swiftly joined by the vampish jest of Fried Chicken Legs with its blues kissed harmonica and garage pop instincts.

The final promiscuous throes of the album come through firstly I Lost My Mind, a track which whilst not grabbing the passions as tightly as its companions certainly left the imagination bound and an appetite for more even greedier before T-R-A-S-H-B-O-N-E-S simply enslaves with its anthemic chant. You can just see the waves of manipulated bodies bouncing in unison to the track at live shows as it plays its tricks on the senses and spirit. The track provides a quite simply glorious end to an album which just gets more immorally tempting, ridiculously captivating, and insanely crafty track by track, listen by listen.

Digging My Grave is out now on Dirty Water Records London and available @ https://wildevelandthetrashbones.bandcamp.com/album/digging-my-grave

https://www.facebook.com/trashbones/    http://trashbones.com/    https://twitter.com/WildEvel1

 Pete RingMaster 29/11/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Baronen & Satan – Why Does The Blood Never Stick To Your Teeth? / Satan Is A Lady

As each year passes it seems harder to find something truly unique to feast upon so those encounters which do carry that special character make a most striking impact and hopefully temptation. The sound of Swedish outfit Baronen & Satan magnificently fits that claim and hope, its nature a psyche twisting trespass and voice a senses searing incitement which together go to make one glorious seduction on body and imagination.

Though formed in 2014 after guitarist Philippe Jean-Piere Dominique Sainz met vocalist Linda Rydelius, the pair uniting in love and creativity once meeting, our introduction to Gothenburg hailing Baronen & Satan is now through Dirty Water Records USA and their releasing of the band’s new EP, Why Does The Blood Never Stick To Your Teeth? in tandem with the re-release of 2016 album Satan Is A Lady. It is a long overdue meeting as hindsight shows the band has been teasing attention across a horde of tracks and years but one we like so many others are greedily devouring. Completed by bassist Marie Bergkvist and drummer Stefan Young Sik Olsson earlier this year, Baronen & Satan create what we assumed has been self-penned as “Garagedeath”.  Whatever you call it, the Baronen & Satan sound is a wonderfully invasive yet flirtatious trespass of reverb grafted adventure conjured from a mix of garage and psych rock, garage punk, noise, and punk rock with plenty more teasing away in its predacious and haunting swamp thick sonic psychosis.

Produced by Jim Diamond (White Stripes, Dirt Bombs), Baronen & Satan’s new EP greedily consumes the senses from its first breath. Why Does The Blood Never Stick To Your Teeth? opens up with new single Elisa and instantly consumes ears in a tide of riffs and rhythms entangled in spicily melodic tendrils. As a bass grumble teases, beats fly with fevered energy, Sainz’s guitar weaving away with salacious grooves as the distinct and unique tones of Rydelius deliciously ‘whine’. Her presence almost steals all attention but with the devilish textures and enterprise at play around her, the whole song seduces in equal measure to get things flying.

The following Buttermilk Sky has a similar but fully individual presence and sound, its psych and garage rock bred rock ‘n’ roll an incitement to appetite and hips as it dances provocatively in ears. Its citric melodic spicing is less kind in the second track compared to its predecessor but just as alluring; the song offering a beefier intrusion taken to darker temptation yet again in the EP’s title track. With the swinging biting beats of Olsson rampant and Bergkvist’s bass sound gnarly, seduction is swift from personal tastes; add the sonic squall of Sainz and Rydelius hellish beauty in voice  and submission to the track’s rapacious rock ‘n’ roll is welcome slavery which the melodic toxicity with its tinge of Echo and The Bunnymen compounds.

All three tracks unite for one unwavering increasing addictive proposal to have us reeled in hook line and sinker; a triumph equally matched by last year’s album, Satan Is A Lady. It similarly needs mere seconds to tempt and begin brewing up a tight grip as opener Lady Creature lies its initial sonic nagging upon ears. Quickly the boisterous beats of Olsson descend and romp; the track bouncing around with eager tenacity as Rydelius casts her riveting vocal antics into the stomping devilment of a proposal. At times Scottish trio The Creeping Ivies is provoked in thought by the track but a great spicing to something again as unique as all the subsequent essences and adventures across the album prove to be, all hues in viral sonic toxins particular to Baronen & Satan.

Next up is Catwalk, its feline prowl lively and predacious with Olsson’s swings marking every step with zeal. Always fuelled by a boisterous spirit, the song stalks the listener as vocals wrap their flirtatious clutches around psych and garage infestation. Magnetic drama, the song sublimely bewitches before the even more energetic exploits of Asskisser bound in. With shimmering sonic suggestion and more rhythmic rascality, a PiL-esque sheen invading its bold canter, the track commands the listener like a puppeteer, its noise nurtured tendrils veining its wonderful manipulation.

Headcuts lurks and taunts with an instantly open Cramps inspiration, continuing to size up its victim before launching into a rapacious garage punk stroll with fifties rockabilly spicing. As its predecessor, the track is glorious; caustic manna for ears and instincts which a fine line of sixties garage rock a la Cradle to add another twist.

Expanding and thickening its ravenous enterprise and character, Satan Is A Lady hits another sweet spot with the sonic buzz of The Projects, a minute and a breath of irresistible niggly punk rock which Comet emulates in success with its own demonic affair for ears and imagination. As most tracks, its core is a relentless nagging which gets right under the skin; heavy dark bait bred on rhythmic and sonic almost wanton dexterity honed into a cauldron of virulent temptation as carefully woven as it is rabidly unleashed.

The album’s title track swings in with muscles tensed next, a riveting PiL meets Siouxsie and the Banshees hook circling ears as once more the compelling tones of Rydelius grip the bold intrusion. Sainz’s initial bait swiftly develops a Buzzcocks spiced essence as the track flexes its animated imagination, every second a beguiling and infectious scheme to enslave.

Through the psychotic stomp of Pony and its sonic Cramps meets the Orson Family moonshine pleasure only escalates, the latter of those hues a bolder essence in the dark saunter of Sugarwalls which too only inflames an already greedy appetite for band and sound. Invasively ethereal and ravenously portentous, the song also gives a glimpse of what you might imagine bands like Blood Ceremony and Jess and the Ancient Ones could sound like if mutant off springs of Lux Interior and Jim Morrison.

The album ends with the invasively haunting Underwater Love, an immersion into a sonic sea of intrigue and unpredictable imagination steered by the alluring vocal ingenuity of Rydelius. It is dark, bordering on suffocating and a compelling end to a quite thrilling and refreshing album.

Uniqueness is rare but when it comes it should be devoured especially when it bears the dark discord and beauty of Baronen & Satan.

Both Why Does The Blood Never Stick To Your Teeth? and Satan Is A Lady are out now @ https://baronenandsatan.bandcamp.com/album/why-does-the-blood-never-stick-to-your-teeth  and https://baronenandsatan.bandcamp.com/album/satan-is-a-lady respectively.

https://www.facebook.com/baronenochsatan/

Pete RingMaster 07/11/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Bridport Dagger – Wolves/Trembling Sky

Sometimes you just do not know the goodness which is on your doorstep. Recently we had the pleasure of being introduced by one of their numbers to Bridport Dagger, a band which it turned out rehearsed and recorded in their singer’s home studio merely ten minutes away from The RR. Even more enjoyably, the meeting left us with the UK outfit’s new single in our eager hands and the urge to tell you about its rather tasty contents as well as the important message to constantly check out and support your local scene as you never know what treats you may find.

There is not a great deal of info we can tell you about the band except that it consists of vocalist/guitarist Jason Idnani-Powdrill, guitarist Lawrence Rice, bassist/guitarist Chaz Foster, and drummer/keyboardist Arran Goodchild. The quartet draws on the inspirations of artists and flavours such as Suicide, Nadine Shah, Roy Orbison, Guadalupe Plata, Clinic, The Gun Club, Flamenco, Get Your Gun, Fado, Ennio Morricone, and film noir especially the work of Wim Wenders and recently performed in an echo chamber under the river Thames and supplied sound design for a seven day immersive play in Berlin. But their sound you ask…well the most important thing here is a dark and seductive collusion of numerous flavours and textures but is maybe best described as Nick Cave and The Walker Brothers meeting Echo and The Bunnymen on a Tarantino set as Japanese Fighting Fish share their creative devilment. What emerges is something individual and magnetic to Bridport Dagger as epitomised by the double A sided lead of new single Wolves/Trembling Sky.

The single is actually a real meaty chunk as it also includes the band’s previous EP Knife through Water including a re-mastered version of its lead track and a couple of songs from that earlier mentioned soundtrack . The single opens with Wolves and an immediate clash of sound as rhythms and guitars collide. From within the inviting clamour a rumble brews; its tone rockabilly like as the guitars between them wrap a jungle of riffs in a sultry melody as Idnani-Powdrill’s vocals begin the shadowed croon of the song. Already the magnetism is addiction level, the subsequent scythes of guitar compelling across the captivation of bass and beats as the band’s rock ‘n’ roll shares dark flirtation. Every passing second brings a new twist of drama and sound, unpredictability as thick as the imagination flowing through the outstanding encounter.

Its partner, Trembling Sky is instantly a less intense proposition, a psych rock melody dancing over the darker hues of bass and again grumbling riffs. There is a Doors-esque air to the song, a shadowed lining to its lively spirit and bounce, and a sixties instrumental tone to the guitars which only adds to its instinctive attraction. As its predecessor, the song just hits personal wants and tastes full on though at two and a half minutes or so it frustrates when it ends just as lust rises.

The rest of the release starts with tracks found on that previously mentioned EP released last year with a re-worked mix of acclaimed track Harry Dean Stanton first up. As this piece is being composed news has just come through that the actor has died; a sad timing which instantly brings a poignant edge to song and its embrace of ears and focus. The song is a dusty shimmer on the senses, a poetic sigh spiked by shards of glassy guitar and soaked with the serenade of keys; a proposition which is masterfully enthralling from start to finish.

Next up is Cowboy Drone, a track which nags and teases like a menacing mix of The Birthday Party and The Doors that sizes up the listener with every note and breath before taking them through a tombstone littered climate soaked in post punk/psych rock discord and theatre. The track is glorious, a noir drenched drama of sound and voice which thrusts the imagination into the heat of dark trespasses.

Taken from the soundtrack of the Twin Peaks inspired theatre performance Bridport Dagger created the music for, The Dangling Man is one of two original songs it was bookended by, the following Lyra the other. The first is a sombre, almost caliginous play for ears and imagination with vocals and music a shadowy lure and the melodramatic caresses of sax courtesy of George Cleghorn sublimely suggestive while the second is a fifties hued dark ballad with more than a touch of Roy Orbison to its emotional humidity. Both tracks transport the listen to a dark and intoxicating place impossible to resist lingering within.

The livelier rock ‘n’ roll of The Butcher of Rome has hips swaying and appetite dancing, bass and beats alone a rousing shuffle to be enslaved by, a trap tightened by the teasing jangle of guitars, the seductive strokes of keys, and the storytelling prowess of the vocals.

The release is completed by the sweltering emotional drenched spectacle of Wilderness, a song which gets bolder and more psychotic and discordant with every passing minute for a mouth-watering finale of provocative noise and melodic toxicity.

Wolves and Trembling Sky as a single is one of the year’s most riveting experiences on the year so far; add the rest of its treats and you have one of the most essential come its release in October.

Wolves/Trembling Sky is released October 13th.

Upcoming live dates:

21st September: Bethnal Green Working Mens Club, London

29th September: Insomnia, Berlin

8th October: Twin Peaks UK Festival, London

10th October: Half Moon Putney, London

13th October: The Lexington (with the Flaming Stars and Get Your Gun), London

4th November: Paper Dress vintage 4th Birthday Party, London

https://www.facebook.com/bridportdagger    https://bridportdagger.bandcamp.com/

Pete RingMaster 16/09/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Suicide Generation – 1st Suicide

Basking in its own dirt and scuzz, the Suicide Generation sound is a fervid rush of trashy goodness which ensures the band’s new album is an unmissable treat for all fans of uncompromising rock ‘n’ roll. The bastard son from a salacious collusion between members of Atomic Suplex, The Cavemen, and Trash Culture, the London based punksters feverishly graze ears with a raw wash of garage punk/rock from start to finish within their debut full length 1st Suicide, sucker-punching the senses along the way with rapacious hooks which just worm into the psyche like a virus.

Supposedly coming together “to fill in for cancelled support slots across the Tuesday night London gigging circuit”, Suicide Generation has quickly become an eagerly devoured proposition on the capital’s live scene with their chaotic and explosive shows; their attack and intent as unpredictable as their sound. Recently linking up with Dirty Water Records, the band is now gunning for bigger attention with 1st Suicide, a release which swarms through ears like a plague of buzzsaw carrying harpies.

The album descends on ears with opener Suicide Generation first of all; one minute and a handful of seconds of clanging rock ‘n roll led by the exasperated tones of frontman Sebastian Melmoth. Every aspect of the track is as muggy as it is concussive but veined by intricate melodic acidity which winds seductively around the fuzzy antics of Emily Crowler’s rhythm guitar. It is a potent, enticing smog of sound swiftly out powered and shone by Why Can’t I Play With You. The second track needs mere seconds to lay down heavy seductive hooks within a similarly intensive weight of sound. A Cramps-esque hue smokes vocals and sound alike, Suicide Generation finding a gripping rawness which even their assumed inspirations would have eagerly embraced as the song flirts and dances with garage rock and punk irritability.

Set Me On Fire has a certain air of The Reatards to its similarly crotchety rock ‘n’ roll straight after, guitars scything across the senses as rhythms rumble with tenacious zeal, while Nora aligns a fifties smoulder with seventies punk waspishness for its individual stomp. Both tracks have the body and imagination eagerly throwing discord loaded shapes before London Blues strolls along with dirty blues punk falling like drooling saliva from every note and syllable. An open psychosis oozes through voice and music alike, its mercurial heart unpredictable and constantly in flux as it captivates and assaults the listener.

They are instantly involved with the brawling escapade of Love Is Hate straight after, the track a beguiling animus of sonic and emotional testiness enjoyably harassing the senses with the clamour of guitars and the spite of rhythms. It is a mix also fuelling next up Little Mama, the track resembling The Phantom basted in rock ‘n’ roll filth whilst sending the hips into an anxious frenzy.

That same instinctive primal sound infests Evil Everywhere and once again the band twists it into something distinct within the release and other propositions; the track a hyperactive dirt ball of sound and energy leading into the closing treat of You Love Me. Initially prowling ears with a devious glint in its creative eye, the band’s punk instincts soon ignites in a high-strung blaze of sonic causticity and wired verbal dexterity driven by rhythms which just seduce attention whether the track smoulders or roars.

1st Suicide is a collection of songs which just please themselves with a similarly arrogant creativity, in turn their brashness and swagger turning on ears and an ever keen appetite for unpolished rock ‘n’ roll. The Suicide Generation is here and openly ready to tear up your world.

1st Suicide is out now on Dirty Water Records @ https://suicidegeneration666.bandcamp.com/releases and http://www.dirtywaterrecords.co.uk/shop/#!/Suicide-Generation-First-Suicide-album-download/p/86922972/category=2749844

https://www.facebook.com/suicidegeneration666/

Pete RingMaster 12/07/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

 

Dirty Jane – Boogie Monster

There is a new hypnotic rumble brewing in the belly of the Birmingham underground scene and it goes by the name of Dirty Jane. This salaciously flirtatious garage punk ‘n’ roll filly is not exactly brand new, the British trio emerging in 2014 but they have just made their national introduction with debut single Boogie Monster, a track with a primal swagger which simply infests body and spirit.

Consisting of vocalist/guitarist Jack Brown, bassist John Beadsmore, and drummer Elliot Morris, Dirty Jane has become an eagerly supported and talked about proposition within the Midlands music scene; earning a fine reputation for their energetic live presence amidst shows alongside the likes of The Strypes, The Sherlocks, The Computers, The Dirty Nil and most recently Hvmm. As mentioned, Boogie Monster is the band’s first fingering of national attention and surely lustful reactions such the infectious devilry breeding the single.

Fusing garage punk and punk rock with fifties rock ‘n’ roll, the Dirty Jane sound prowls ears and psyche like a fusion of The Cramps, The Phantom, Dick Venom and The Terrortones, and Eighteen Nightmares At the Lux; a creative breed of temptation which instantly has ears and appetite inflamed as the single sonically and vocally shatters the silence. Within another breath, rhythms are prowling the senses with a lively almost predacious gait casting catchy menace for Brown to vocally embrace. With insatiable hooks equally grabbing ears all along his guitar’s swarthy grooves, a delicious grumble to Beadsmore’s bass alongside, and the whole of the band courting thick involvement with their vocal roars, the song demands lusty participation, Morris’ tenaciously swinging beats extra incentive.

Produced by Gavin Monaghan, Boogie Monster is quite simply irresistible; its psych rock essences icing on the diablerie escaping the band and if a sign of things to come, the beginning of major mischief and adventure for and from Dirty Jane.

Boogie Monster is out now on 7” from the Magic Garden Vinyl @ http://magicgardenvinyl.uk/Store/ and digitally through iTunes.

http://www.dirtyjane.co.uk/    https://www.facebook.com/Dirtyjanemusic/   https://twitter.com/dirtyjaneuk

Pete RingMaster 04/04/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Hangmen – Necronomicon

photo by Phil Whiteley_Intial P Photography

It might not always have been openly declared but there is no escaping that British cult rockers, The Hangmen have been an inspiring force on the underground psychobilly scene since the early nineties and the first of seven greedily devoured and increasingly lauded albums. They defy, nay violate accepted musical conventions and expectations in attitude, deed, and sound whilst creating a blend of psychobilly and garage punk which only inspires in its uniqueness and irreverence; the evidence in the sounds escaping the imagination of bands like Dick Venom and The Terrortones and Dedwardians whether from direct or third hand inspiration. Now the trio return with a new three track infestation of body and psyche, an irresistible trespass sure to have even more willingly swinging from their creative gallows.

This new studio material has been a long awaited incitement, anticipation hanging on since the release of seventh album Cacklefest! in 2007, though there was also the rarities collection of Exhumed & Groomed to drool over three years ago. It has been fresh dark Hangmen swing fans have yearned for though and Necronomicon more than delivers. It is the most predatory and creatively deranged adventure yet with the threesome of vocalist/guitarist Loz Firewalker, bassist/vocalist Leapin’ Lizard Phillips, and drummer Dyin’ Ryan and with all its songs taken from upcoming full-length Hells Vagina, The EP is a salacious teaser of hell bent rock ‘n’ roll at its most deviously compelling.

The EP’s title track is first up, its homage to cult movie gem Evil Dead pure invasive theatre. From its initial piano cursed fingering of the imagination, the track twists into a predacious stroll with infection seeping from every pore. Swinging beats and a heavy rapacious bassline courts the senses whilst a seductively nagging hook teases, Firewalker barging in with his vocal roar as raucously backed by the vociferous tones of Phillips. Dragging the listener into its transfixing hellbound realm prone to caustic expulsions, harrying them with a gloriously plodding prowl, the track reveals itself as raw virulence cast in something approaching The Cramps meeting Th’ legendary Shack Shakers as The Orson Family add their incestuous lures ultimately emerging as a depraved invasion all of the band’s making.

The punk stomp of Collarbomb keeps the pleasure as lustfully inflamed, its own naturally mischievous and virulent swagger rapturous bait alone only matched up by the spicy grooves and fifties seeded boldness fuelling its persistently dynamic and insatiable two minute epidemic.

It is fair to say these ears and appetite were fevered by the end of the pair and only ignited again by closer The Great Brain Robbery, the song managing to find an even rawer toxic majesty to its clamour. Driven by a forceful strut with bedlam in its arsenal, the track as its predecessors swiftly gets under the skin incessantly ravishing the senses with its instinctive and inventive babel.

Necronomicon is the kind of treat for which any length of wait can be accepted while providing a taster of a release which will be even more desperately anticipated from this point on.

The Necronomicon EP is out now through Moon Skull Records on 10″ vinyl and download @ https://hangmen666.bandcamp.com/album/necronomicon-ep

Video directed/edited by Ryan Pilot

https://www.facebook.com/thehangmen    https://twitter.com/Hangmen666

Pete RingMaster 17/03/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Masonics – Obermann Rides Again

masonics_RingMasterReview

Giving an instinctive passion for rock ‘n’ roll as big a work out as hips and feet, UK rockers The Masonics recently uncaged their ninth album, Obermann Rides Again, offering fourteen slices of their feverishly distinctive and tenaciously addictive sound. The trio rock and rumble through their new proposal with more of the beat infected garage punk which has seen them become the leaders of the Medway Beat first instigated by Billy Childish. In saying that, it equally breathes and roars with freshness again bringing something new and inspiring to ears and the scene around them, and most of all raw zeal and excitement to the listener.

The band consists of vocalist/guitarist Mickey Hampshire who was in the Milkshakes in the early 80s with drummer Bruce Brand who had played alongside Childish a few years earlier in the Pop Rivets and bassist John Gibbs once of Scottish group, The Kaisers. As The Masonics, the threesome have persistently cemented their position as one of the heads of British garage rock/punk with a sound becoming one of the essential inspirations of the ever eager charge of the genre’s young pups.

Released by Dirty Water Records as a limited 500 copies editions ahead of a series of limited vinyl and download releases from The Masonics’ back catalogue, starting with Outside Looking In and a new singles compilation, Obermann Rides Again swiftly reveals why the stature of the band remains stately. It all starts with I Ain’t Hurting For You and a guitar twang which provides the spark for a strolling jangle and rhythmic incitement forcibly engaging ears. The magnetic vocals of Hampshire are soon adding their lure; the boisterous sounds around him echoing his honest unfussy delivery. Within a handful of seconds feet are physically involved, appetite and those instincts just as eagerly hooked before the excellent opener hands its pliable slave over to the even more energetically captivating and persuasive Don’t Torment Me. With a Bo Diddley like stomp at its heart, the track twists and turns in its relentlessly vigorous shuffle with rhythmic rowdiness and sonic vivacity its virulent fuel. Rock ‘n’ roll was never meant to be flamboyant or polished to clean-cut limpness and this superb roisterer and its dirty ways proves why.

art_RingMasterReviewYour Dangerous Mind has a less undisciplined bounce, its saunter more flirtation than aggression and just as irresistible as Hampshire with grainy texture croons, backed by his cohorts within tangy grooves and hip inciting rhythms. The r&b essences of the song are just as ripe as its brisk punk serenade, chaining a body and imagination which is soon firmly hooked again by the sultry rumba of I Don’t Understand Her Any More. As with most tracks, a collusion of decades is at masterful play, sixties garage pop and seventies surf rock hues potent spices as too the fuzzy buzz of organ in the gentle but keen canter of a song.

Rhythm ‘n’ blues dexterity becomes even wilder in next up You Don’t Have To Travel; the beat swinging, hook casting romp has a flush of King Salami and the Cumberland 3 to it,  a more mild-mannered but no less devilish cousin enjoying juicy melodies and the temptress vocal charms of Ludella Black alongside Hampshire. It also pushes the already keen diversity of sound within the album on again, as even more so does I’m The Unforgiver. The track is glorious, a dark rock ‘n’ roll saunter with Cajun spicing evocatively colouring attitude loaded vocals, the fiery shimmer of harmonica, and heavily loping rhythms. It infests ears and psyche like the mutant offspring from a dirty union between Th’ Legendary Shack Shakers and Ray Campi; quite simply it is garage punk to get truly lustful over.

The following and equally outstanding You’re A Stranger leaves body exhausted, senses punch drunk, and spirit ablaze next with its contagion loaded punk rock carrying a touch of The Mobbs to its rowdy exuberance while You Won’t See Me Again finds a predacious edge to its swinging, deviously catchy garage rock bred swagger.

Throughout the whole album, there is no escaping the physical manipulation of Brand’s nefarious beats or Gibbs infernal rhythms whilst Hampshire’s wiry melodies and jangling melodic hooks are trespasses more often than not breeding slavery. All are at bold play in the beat punctuated blues flamed I’m A Redacted Man and straight after in the smouldering fifties rock ‘n’ roll/sixties pop spun What Do You Do. A procrastinating stroll and anthem for lost love and its enslaving grief, the second’s raw seduction roars with soiled Walker Brothers like charm and salty melodic spicing reminding a little of The Birds.

Come On My Little Darlin’ bounces around like a dancehall ruffian after them, sonically tempting and rhythmically taunting as a mouth harp again seduces before You Gotta Tell Me shows its blues breeding with intoxicating hooks and intoxicated keys for a salacious slab of imposing but controlled rock ‘n roll. Both tracks continue the album’s appetite igniting prowess though both are quickly eclipsed by its closing pair.

The swinging country rock a-scented beat ‘n’ roll of The Unsignposted Road is sheer infectiousness with Black back courting ears alongside the band as one passion stoking hook persists and old school melodies flame. It is delicious to the ear but too is slightly shaded by the brilliance of the album’s title track bringing devilment to its exceptional close. Punk ‘n’ roll calling on the goodness of past decades, it stomps around and grips body and soul like The Pirates, both the Johnny Kidd and seventies eras, meeting Thee Headcoats as the likes of The Blue Cats spur them on; a glorious end to an equally stirring and enjoyable album.

As suggested earlier, The Masonics are the head boys of UK garage goodness and Obermann Rides Again is evidence they are in no mood to hand over that position.

Obermann Rides Again is out now on vinyl on the band’s own Grand Wazeau Records and digitally through Dirty Water Records and available @ https://themasonics.bandcamp.com/album/obermann-rides-again

https://www.facebook.com/themasonics/

Pete RingMaster 05/03/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright