Playboy Manbaby – You Can Be A Fascist Too b/w I’d Like To Meet Your Parents

playboymanbaby_RingMasterReview

How to describe Playboy Manbaby? Hailing from Phoenix, Arizona, they are a six piece punk band where imagining the Banana Splits meets Swell Maps in cahoots with The Tuesday Club and Zebrahead feels the closest in portraying the band’s deliciously creative rioting. They are mayhem in the speakers, irreverence in the imagination and quite simply and as shown by their new single, irresistible.

Described as “the contradictory soundtrack to the contemporary life experience”, Playboy Manbaby is made up by the combined creative mania of Robbie Pfeffer (vocals), Chris Hudson (bass), TJ Friga (guitar), David Cosme (trumpet), Chad Dennis (drums), and Austin Rickert (sax). The past five years has seen the band steal the hearts and support of their local music scene and tear up stages alongside the likes of Mike Watt & The Missing Men, King Khan & BBQ Show, King Khan & The Shrines, Rocket From The Crypt, Thee Oh Sees, Cosmonauts, The Spits, Black Flag, The Descendents, The Replacements, The Slackers, Teenage Bottlerocket and many more. Grabbing major attention on broader landscapes has yet to find Playboy Manbaby, we ourselves only being introduced to them through latest proposal You Can Be A Fascist Too b/w I’d Like To Meet Your Parents, but thanks to the ever impressive discovery of talent by Dirty Water Records, things could be about to explode for the band.

art_RingMasterReviewWith new album Don’t Let It Be in the works, Playboy Manbaby tease the appetite with You Can Be A Fascist Too, the first single from the impending release. Originally scheduled for a February unveiling, it was brought forward to coincide with the US presidential inauguration. From the off it assaults and lures with a belligerent guitar jangle quickly followed by the raw incitement of Pfeffer’s vocals. Second by second new invasive hooks and salacious grooves fling themselves into the punk mayhem, band shouts and off kilter harmonies wagging a beckoning finger as effectively as the caustic riffs and tenacious rhythms.

The track is a treat and mischievous brawl easy to devour as too is its companion I’d Like To Meet Your Parents. In fact it just about steals the show with its less intrusive but just as virulent dexterity in sound and flirtation. Leading up to a chorus which needs mere seconds to recruit and chain listener participation, the song strolls with minimalistic yet alluring melodies and enticing hooks as vocals make a plaintive proposal with a similarly swinging canter. It is glorious stuff with a foot in seventies punk as the band’s unique modern day mania bellows.

Dirty Water Records have a growing reputation for the eclectic range of their releases, the Playboy Manbaby adding yet another thrilling facet and while becoming one of the label’s best singles yet.

You Can Be A Fascist Too b/w I’d Like To Meet Your Parents is out now on Dirty Water Records and through http://playboymanbaby.com/shop/ and https://playboymanbaby.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/ButterGravyButter   https://twitter.com/playboymanbaby

Pete RingMaster 01/02/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Dearly Beloved – Admission

 

beloved-12_RingMasterReview

It would have been hard to imagine Canadian band, Dearly Beloved majorly outdoing their last album Enduro at the time of its release, it one glorious slice of garage rock inspired sound built on instinctive and striking imagination, but they have done just that with its successor Admission. If there is such a thing as the perfect record, Dearly Beloved come so close with their new offering. Yet again the band recruits and manipulates the imagination with their sonic tapestries, embracing even greater adventure and variety whilst fully uncaging their rock ‘n’ roll instincts. If the last album was glorious, Admission is majestic; quite simply a primal and ingeniously conjured, addiction sparking roar.

As with its predecessor, the Toronto based band leapt upon and recorded fifth full-length Admission in quick time, using up fourteen days at Dave Grohl’s Studio 666. As ever centered around the vocal pairing of bassist Rob Higgins and Niva Chow, the quartet linked up with produced Daniel Rey (Ramones and Misfits) to record the album, using the famed, 70s era Neve 8028 analogue console that spawned Nirvana’s Nevermind. The result is a proposition which grips ears with vice like tempting while taking feet, hips, and rock ‘n’ roll instincts on a ride of their life.

RIP kicks things off, instantly chaining attention and an eager appetite because of previous successes with a grumbling yet vibrant bassline matched by senses rapping beats. A momentary breath uncages a torrent of hungry riffs and antagonistic rhythms, that in turn the prelude for a controlled yet ferocious rock roar. It is a fiery incitement perfectly contrasted rather than tempered by the warm inviting tones of Higgins and Chow, together a riveting lure in the creative storm. More virulent than the common cold, the track is pure dominance, irresistibly enslaving hips and feet as easily as ears and emotions.

The sensational start is more than matched by These Data, it too fleecing the passions with an opening lure of bass, a swinging groove woven coaxing infesting the psyche as a sonic shimmer sizzles around it. Beats dance with creative tenacity around that prime draw, Higgins again vocally captivating with Chow a similarly magnetic support as the track rumbles and grumbles. It is riveting stuff with guitars adding a great sour spicing to the mix as punk and grunge essences join the garage rock natured proposal.

admission1_RingMasterReviewI Tried To Leave brings a lighter poppier tone next though bass and drums still have that enjoyable crankiness as the pair explores a more Jane’s Addiction flavoured adventure. Every twist and turn in its intoxicating blaze brings fresh ingredients to devour, a psych rock invention only adding to a mouth-watering stomp before Who Wants to Know turns the album’s charge into a prowling, dark toned trespass. Vocally Higgins and Chow conjure a bewitching union whilst sonically the song sears the senses as rhythms dance on the debris with ridiculously infectious wantonness. A subsequent passage of relative calm enables a blues laced groan to emerge, its restrained air remaining as the track expands again until its volatility surges through ears as Chow’s harmonic lures beckon like a siren.

Through the kinetic punk ‘n’ roll of Strobe-Dosing and the abrasive funk of Currents, band and release use the listener like a puppeteer, the first as much pop natured as punk belligerent as it courses relentlessly like blood through veins into the psyche and passions. Its successor holds back its instinctive urge to career through ears, allowing its rhythmic heart and harmonic beauty to entice the senses like a raw blend of Shriekback and Ex Norwegian though as ever, a Dearly Beloved song is never slow in developing new detours and twists to enjoy.

The garage punk devilry of Blood In The Water provides the next major highlight of Admission, its dark heart and tantalising slow rhythmic prowl almost crawling over the senses as electronics atmospherically play and guitars toxically simmer. As vocals and harmonies radiate and yet another wicked bassline from Higgins grips, the track moves and burns like gothic lava.

Its startling presence is matched by that of Boxing Days straight after, the song aural seduction from its bewitching vocals and crabby bassline to its harmonic romancing and infectious tempestuousness. From a fascinating simmer it grows into a conflagrant eruption of sound and intensity impossible to evade not that you will wish to.

It is fair to say there are no weak moments within Admission; no times it comes close to loosening its masterful hold and creative success as proven once more by the closing creative outcries of When You Had The Choice and Future Shock. The former is a romping slice of rock ‘n’ roll with an unmistakable Foo Fighters like boisterousness and aggression in its punk heart while the latter skilfully blends calm and clamour in its own garage rock/punk driven trespass, each entwining a host of flavours in their spirit rousing traps.

It is very easy to keep heaping more praise upon Admission but the evidence is in the sound and time shared with it, though Dearly Beloved need little of either to convince and prove themselves one of the most exciting bands out there.

Admission is out now via Aporia Records across most online stores and @ https://dearlybeloved.bandcamp.com/album/admission-2

http://www.dearlybelovedmusic.com/    https://www.facebook.com/TheBeloveds/    https://twitter.com/thebeloveds

Pete RingMaster 31/01/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Frau Pouch – Fairymares

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I am sure we were not alone in eagerly anticipating a first album from British no wave post-punks  Frau Pouch. They are a band which captured and ignited our imagination on our introduction to them in a split release with fellow Kent outfit Houdini back in 2012. Their sound is a sonically and creatively gurning fusion of post and garage punk with other feverish forms of wonderfully irritable and imaginatively twisted rock ‘n’ roll. Each release, since that first meeting, has seen the Medway trio stretch, twist, and inject their imagination with new creative psychoses, nurturing their most irresistible outcome yet in debut album Fairymares.

Released via Skingasm Records and recorded with Greg Webster of Houdini/ Punching Swans, Fairymares is warped manna for the ears especially if they have been nurtured on a diet of post punk seeded bands such as The Fall, Pere Ubu, and The Victorian English Gentlemens Club. The album swiftly enforces the fact that Frau Pouch has its own sound though, even with essences reminding of others, it stands boldly unique and creatively salacious to the threesome of vocalist/guitarist Joe Wise(also of Punching Swans), bassist Ollie Crook, and drummer Suzanne Freeman.

As previous tracks and the All Hail Space Chicken EP before it, Fairymares swiftly entangles ears in a web of sound and invention, opening up with the band’s lust breeding single of last year Biscuit Beard. From the glorious carnivorously natured, bestial toned growl of Crook’s bassline setting things off, the track infests body and soul. Wise’s riffs are just as carnal in touch and sound, his flowing grooves equally rapacious as Freeman’s controlled swings punch further subservience to the song’s call on an instantly lustful appetite. The track is pure addiction, its Gang Of Four soiled rhythmic tempting alone irresistible and the wiry web of sonic endeavour and vocal nagging Mekons like.

It is just the start of the album’s insane grooving and rhythmic baiting with the following Dracula Pukes revealing its own nest of creative vipers as cutting scythes of guitar and punch happy rhythms challenge and enthral for a mere fifty seven seconds; a gripping minute of cantankerous confrontation leading to the virulently infectious stroll of Ham Planet. Like Pere Ubu on steroids as Turbogeist writhes under the punk influence of The Fall, the track dances with pop infused boisterousness though every swinging movement of its creative hips comes with seductive venomous intent as Wise declares his vocal desires.

The exceptional Burn Baby keeps the lust hungrily burning next, its lo-fi canvas a tangle of steely petulant grooves, intimately flirtatious beats, and crabby bass groans as vocals install their own brand of psyche trespassing persuasion. It is aural corruption leaving a lingering touch though Witch Fingers straight after soon steals all attention. With we assume Freeman taking vocal lead, the track is like a demented fusion of Daisy Chainsaw and The Fire Engines, off kilter toxic melody and dancing vocals uniting in an adult nursery rhyme like trespass of sanity.

Ghost Fire offers its own cranky invention, stabbing riffs and sonic vining shadowing Wise’s compelling stabbing vocals as another gloriously testy and intrusive bassline sparks feverish submission across its single minute before the repetitive prowess of Erotic Clocks has ears tempted hook, line, and sinker. With a slight whiff of Spizzenergi to it, the track is another sure fire infestation of body and psyche with its rhythmic nag and caustic expulsions.

With seductive danger to its cartoonish and creative loco, Gotham Piper lures the listener in next, continuing to lay a certifiable creative hand on the senses before intermittently uncaging its inner meshuga in ferocious style. The Cardiacs comes to mind within the thrilling encounter, Mark E. Smith and co even more so in successor Cat Curfew though once more as Wise lords over his own weave of sonic wiring and the rhythmic union of Crook and Freeman, Frau Pouch imprint only their own uniqueness.

Sleepstalker completes the line-up of treats, its sombre yet vibrantly magnetic fingering of the senses the stuff of nightmares; Crooks’ grievous bassline the stalker, Freeman’s beats the trap, and Wise in voice and sonic intrusion the swamp impossible to escape from. They are all delicious ingredients in a thrilling end to not only the best thing to come from Frau Pouch but potentially 2017 as a whole.

Fairymares is released 27th January via Skingasm Records.

https://www.facebook.com/FrauPouch/    https://fraupouch.bandcamp.com/

Pete RingMaster 24/01/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Pussycat and the Dirty Johnsons – Dirty Rock ‘n’ Roll

pic debbie-attwell

pic debbie-attwell

As the band work and finish material to grace a new album, British rockers Pussycat and the Dirty Johnsons have linked up with Dirty Water Records for the long awaited digital release of second album Dirty Rock ‘n’ Roll and quite simply if you missed it first time around and have an instinctive appetite for insatiable bordering salacious punk infested rock ‘n’ roll, than it is a must.

Formerly in a band just called The Johnsons, the Basingstoke hailing trio is fronted by the wild feline wiles of vocalist Puss Johnson with founding guitarist Dirty Jake (Feckle, Lube) and drummer Filfy Antz (The Krewmen) alongside uncaging their own raw and incendiary antics. It is an explosive combination which saw their 2010 debut album Exercise Your Demons earn many plaudits as too over the years a blistering live show seeing the band share stages with the likes of The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, Thee Oh Sees, The Fuzztones, Mad Sin, The Damned, 999, The Polecats, The Creepshow, The Rezillos, Bow Wow Wow, The Meteors, The Vibrators, Resurex, DragSTER, Trioxin Cherry, and Atomic Suplex.  Three years later, Dirty Rock ‘n’ Roll was the cause of even greater eager attention and acclaim upon Pussycat and the Dirty Johnsons; a spotlight sure to be regenerated by its digital uncaging ahead of as mentioned a new album.

Featuring eleven tracks spun from attitude loaded threads of everything from punk, garage rock, glam, psychobilly, garage punk and any other form of rock ‘n’ roll you wish to offer, Dirty Rock ‘n’ Roll is an explosive riot for senses and body alike. Produced by Alex McGowan and featuring guest double-bassist Phil Bloomberg of The Polecats on a couple of tracks, the album instantly prowls the listener as opener Burying The Bodies settles in to place, once set continuing to stalk but with an infectious swagger led by the biting beats of Antz. Straight away there is an obvious devilment in the band’s sound and the lusty roar shared by Pussycat, her presence and delivery a snarling seducing. With big hooks and winding grooves, the slab of predacious rock ‘n’ roll is an irresistible start to a release proving to be unrelenting in its fiery creative and aggressive incitement.

Hell Bent is swift agreement, its whining grooves courting flying rhythms and Pussycat’s plaintive cries, all united in another tenacious track which eyes you up with distrust yet reveals the most compelling enterprise amidst mouth-watering unpredictability before Livin’ With Mum And Dad sees the band move from raw rock ‘n’ roll into a more seventies flavoured encounter as much glam rock and power pop as it is old school punk. For personal tastes, it lacks the bite and spark of those around it but with its Pistols-esque hook and caustic catchiness there is no escaping being sucked in.

front-cover_RingMasterReviewPsychobilly flavours the magnificent stomp of Get Outta My Face next, Bloomberg bringing his masterful slaps to the Batmobile meets Imelda May scented stroll with Pussycat like a punk Wanda Jackson. Fiery guitar and senses badgering beats bolster the seriously rousing proposal as the song shows another aspect to the album and the Pussycat and the Dirty Johnsons sound.

The scuzzy blues punk of She Don’t attacks and excites next, its corrosive character and sound as virulently infectious as anything upon the album while Mirtazapine uses similar strains of flavouring for its own individual trespass. With a touch of post punks Bone Orchard to its untamed garage punk challenge, the track is a superb mix of rapacious restraint and unbridled furor taking ears and imagination into the darkest shadows of the fiercest volcano.

There is no let-up of the enjoyably exhausting confrontations as Why Do You Hate Me? sears the senses with its punk rock lava around a rhythmic tempest while Dirty Li’l Dog, with the magnetic craft of the Polecat returning, leaps around with uninhibited rhythmic rioting as blues guitars embrace numerous other spices around the carnival barker leadership of Pussycat.

The final trio of songs just epitomise the variety and devilish imagination in the band’s songs; Sort Yourself Out a fuzzy blend of growling punk and toxic blues within The Pirates like rock ‘n roll and Souvenir simply one glorious invasion of garage punk with a scent of The Cramps, Animal Alpha, and In Evil Hour in its unique best track earning triumph.

Closed out by the adrenaline fuelled and feeding Hideous, a final belligerent detonation of rabble-rousing incitement, the outstanding Dirty Rock ‘n’ Roll is its title and so much more. It might not be a new release but it deserves this new exposure and Pussycat and the Dirty Johnsons the fresh attention ahead of what can only be anticipated as another uncompromising uproar.

Dirty Rock ‘n’ Roll is available digitally through Dirty Water Records @ http://www.dirtywaterrecords.co.uk/shop/#!/Pussycat-and-the-Dirty-Johnsons-Dirty-Rock-n-Roll/p/75045471/category=2793895 with physical options @ http://thedirtyjohnsons.com/shop/4564430166

http://thedirtyjohnsons.com   https://www.facebook.com/thedirtyjohnsons/   https://twitter.com/Dirty_Johnsons

Pete RingMaster 14/12/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Thirteen Shots – Self Titled

13 Shots_RingMasterReview

Though the band is no longer active, the hunger and want for Thirteen Shots continues to be vocal. The new release of a self-titled compilation album is a dose of their raw and voracious horror punk sure to be devoured and earn many more belated fans as it treats ears to the best of the band as a free proposal. Bringing together fifteen tracks spanning the band’s releases, one previously unreleased track, and an irresistible live take of the band’s mighty track Graveyard Stomp, the album is an offer no fan or horror punk loving newcomer to the British outfit should and will be able to resist.

Formed by the now Hamburg, Germany residing Johnny Rose and featuring Lewis Manchip, George Chick, Joe Dempster, Chelsea McCammon, and Tom Fenn in its line-ups, the Birmingham hailing Thirteen Shots unleashed a distinct and rousing form of rock ‘n’ roll as seeded in sixties garage rock and blues as horror punk itself. From debut album Vaudeville of 2012, through subsequent releases such as Tales That Start With A Whisper the following year, the 2014 White Noise EP, and their final outing through second album Black Smiles last year Thirteen Shots pushed their boundaries and expanded their sound without losing the incisive rough diamond roar which marked them out from day one. The new compilation brings it all into one thrilling place; all together for one final stomp.

First track is the fiery rock ‘n’ roll of Cobradeer, an encounter which flies from the traps, drops into a predacious prowl before bursting into a rush of fiercely slapping rhythms and ferocious riffs led by the distinct vocals of Rose. It provided a rousing introduction to Black Smiles originally and makes the same attention grabbing impact here before passing ears over to the flesh dropping infections of band classic Zombies From The USSR. Cored by a delicious Caped Crusader like hook, the track expels raptorial grooves and vocal incitement in a battle cry/warning rising up against undead hordes which just gets under the skin and into the psyche.

cover_RingMasterReviewThe variety in the band’s sound has been an open book and illustrated in the garage blues blaze of Nekrosexual and the following drama of Bewitched as well as across the album. The first is a scuzzy roar while the second again uncovering a hook which just fits an eager appetite, uncages predatory basslines and irritable riffs as Rose scowls in the colourful horror punk confines of the excellent encounter.

Within the Thirteen Shots catalogue numerous tracks were like beacons to their presence and sound, arguably the most tempting being Danzig. A tribute to the obvious, the song is a swinging punk brawl wearing its influence clearly but casting is own horror punk ‘n’ roll character with more hooks and temptations than a stripper at a fishing convention.

Punk rock in varying degrees is also an ever present in the band’s sound, Get In My Crypt for example simply fuelled by it in its virulent charge wrapped in metallic flames while other songs like Night Of Sin infuses it into their own individual imaginations, it a liquor soaked blues rock proposal with searing grooves and restrained but heavy rhythms. The outstanding Dead Girls Don’t Scream takes the vital essence into a psychobilly spiced romp, like Misfits meets Resurex while wearing a New York Dolls t-shirt. It is also another of those songs which the band is particularly memorable and noted for, a rock ‘n’ roll stomp to get lustful over.

Through the writhing blues grooved Padded Cell Blues, the scuzzy heavy metal Sabbath-esque riff loaded crawl of Doom, and the severely infectious rockabilly lined stroll of First American Sweetheart, the album does what all good compilations should do; reveal and celebrate the depth and invention of its focus. The last of the trio especially whips up the spirit with its hard rock grooves and garage punk contagion offering something akin to Turbonegro meets The Heartbreakers.

Grooves are equally a major tempting within next up Tales That Start With A Whisper, twisting within ears with salacious intent as the track shares classic/glam rock misbehaviour equipped with the spiciest hooks before Black Eyed Girl enters with a flirtatious and slightly sinister prowl like a dark dusted feline seductress swinging melodic hips to blues bred flames.

There have been a few songs from the band too which have blossomed to greater heights over listens rather than with an instantaneous convincing; the raw shuffle of Black Smiles being one which proves its point perfectly amongst its companions on the album though gaining its first ever outing here, Creak’n The Coffin needs little time to grab ears and the passions. A contagious punk driven slab of rock ‘n’ roll, it stomps and roars with all the flavours the band has consistently shown itself so adept at weaving into their raucous proposals.

The album is completed by the sultry blood red romance of Lost Soul with its mariachi laced smoulder and finally that stomping live roar of Graveyard Stomp, which while drawing eager participation, reminds us what we are all missing from the band at each and every venue they graced.

There are certainly tracks we would have added to the album, This Looks Like A Job For Batman for one, but Thirteen Shots is undoubtedly the life and creative voice of the band to a tee and a certain must for all punk ‘n’ roll fans. Go check it out and grab a rare and free treat @ http://thirteenshots.bandcamp.com/ with a possible very ltd edition CD possible if demand is high and similarly a final UK tour from the band if they are wanted; so go tell them @ https://www.facebook.com/thirteenshotsband

Thirteen Shots is also available for FREE from Google Play and available to stream from Spotify and Deezer from Undead Artists.

Pete RingMaster 09/11/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Thee Infecteds – The Macabre Tale Of The Harlots Curse

art_RingMasterReview

Imagine Misfits meets The Meteors with the salacious touch of Demented Are Go and the thumping might of Grumpynators involved and you get a sense of the treat to be found within The Macabre Tale Of The Harlots Curse. The debut album from British rockers Thee Infecteds is a bloody stomp of garage punk and psychobilly; a slab of rock ‘n’ roll weaving its own distinct cavalcade of horror bred escapades from familiar and fresh creative cadavers in sound and enterprise, and one rather irresistible blood lust.

Hailing from Newcastle, emerging from its dark mausoleums this year, Thee Infecteds draw on inspirations from the likes of Johnny Cash, Eddie Cochran, Hank Williams, Link Wray, Wayne Hancock, Motorhead, The Meteors, Demented Are Go, and The Cramps among many sparks for their own rousing exploits. They are flavours which at times openly shape The Macabre Tale Of The Harlots Curse but only add to its swift attraction and lingering hold on ears and imagination.

Playing like an aural Tales From The Crypt, each song an episode of blood and death shown in a theatre from where exits “all go down”, the album gets down to business after the introduction of Feature Presentation with The Harlots Curse. With a great cavernous air to its atmosphere, the track opens on the steely riff of Anth Bundy’s guitar, it soon joined by the menacing kisses of Sean Sinner’s beats and further riffs alongside the intimidation of upright bass slapped by Ruby Morgue. It is a carnivorous proposal guided by the potent tones of vocalist Howlin’ Jimmy, he not so much a barker but a narrator to your demise at the whim of the song’s curse.

It is a rousing start quickly matched by the strolling swagger of The Razors Edge, the song a mix of catchy hooks and fifties rock ‘n’ roll guitar courted by the already irresistible presence of Morgue’s bass. Each plucked string is a dark conspirator for ears and imagination more than matched by the tangy enterprise of pick on string by Bundy and Jimmy’s straight to the point attack. The track is too brief but an unstoppable appetite pleaser before the adrenaline fuelled Creepy Crawler has its moment of attention swiftly sealed. With a bit of Guana Batz to the song, its stomps around with attitude and creative barbs which soon has hips swinging and feet bouncing, Bundy’s salty grooves additional pleasure as the song blossoms on its repetitive character.

Both Skulls and It’s Them! keep the album in top gear and pleasure unbridled, each embracing an unmistakable Misfits influence woven into their own highly addictive and virulently infectious guises before Intermission allows a momentarily breather for mopping up sweat and ice cream. Eager involvement is a given throughout the album but the pair demand and receive some of the most zealous with the second of the two leaving the body breathless.

Never Go To Heaven is a less boisterous incitement next, at least initially, it’s gentle coaxing all melodic seduction and strolling rhythms as Jimmy romps alongside yet one more riveting bass riff as it heads towards a tenaciously feisty shuffle. The track does not quite find all the sparks which ignite its predecessors yet still has voice and body hooked before moving over for the lusty enticement of Lay That Chainsaw Down. Hooks and riffs are an enticement which enslaves the senses and imagination with ease, all teasing within a rolling canter under the commanding guidance of Sinner.

The thumping beats and melodic lures of Happy Jack are also an entanglement impossible to throw off, unbreakable chains further provided by the delicious throb of bass while its thick success is only eclipsed by that of Your Love Makes Me Itch, a song which is pure slavery as its nagging bass rhythms and repetitious hooks play with and seduce the imagination. The song is a web of slimline strands of barb littered lines from all concerned, and a united weave which is as rich and thick in temptation as anything on this and many other genre similar encounters in recent times.

The dirty, dark, and destructive romance of True Love Dies brings the album to a close; a Gene Vincent meets P. Paul Fenech flirtation which just hits the spot dead centre before it is time to make for the Exit and the inevitable journey.

With a real lust for good psychobilly/horror rock incitements here our wants are demanding. The Macabre Tale Of The Harlots Curse delivers on virtually every level whilst providing one seriously rousing and enjoyable excuse to unleash the blood lust.

The Macabre Tale Of The Harlots Curse is out now and available @ https://theeinfecteds.bandcamp.com/album/the-macabre-tale-of-the-harlots-curse

https://www.facebook.com/theeinfecteds/

Pete RingMaster 13/10/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Cavemen – Too High To Die/I’d Kill

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It has been a busy year for New Zealanders The Cavemen from just releases alone. April saw the unleashing of their exceptional self-titled debut album followed in June by the just as rousing and wonderfully arrogant two track single Juvenile Delinquent. Now the quartet of vocalist Paul, guitarist Jack, bassist Nick, and drummer Jake Caveman have freed new offering Too High To Die/I’d Kill ahead of yet another album; the single two slices of the band’s distinctive garage bred punk ‘n’ roll which is impossible not to get lustfully off on.

Now UK based, The Cavemen have arguably unearthed their most primal and trashiest sound for their new single; breeding both tracks with the kind of punk rock which has ignited and corrupted rock ‘n’ roll since the days of Gene Vincent and Jerry lee Lewis, through the likes of Hasil Adkins and The Stooges, and on to the likes of The Cramps, Gun Club, and The Ramones and more. Raw and cast in lo-fi manna, the single sizzles on the senses as it infests the body and purges the psyche like a predacious attack of sonic leprosy.

too-high-frontcover-copy_RingMasterReviewToo High To Die rumbles and grumbles from its first sonic lancing of ears, rhythms cantankerously bouncing as deranged vocal urgency colludes with the winy enterprise of the guitar. The whole song is like one giant chorus such its rousing catchiness with the fiery guitar solo additional toxicity to greedily devour.

Companion I’d Kill is just the same, a virulent stomp from first note to last but even more soaked in seventies punk with a touch of bands like The Saints and The Lurkers to it. A belligerent snarl with more contagion to its persuasion than any plague, the track alone but definitely in union with Too High To Die sparks even more impatient anticipation for The Cavemen’s impending second full-length.

Too High To Die / I’d Kill is out now via Dirty Water Records @ http://www.dirtywaterrecords.co.uk/shop/#!/The-Cavemen-Too-High-To-Die-b-w-Id-Kill-download/p/70351208/category=18119001

https://www.facebook.com/thecavemennz

Pete RingMaster 23/09/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright