Dick Venom & the Terrortones – SnakeOil for Snakes

Dick Venom_RingMaster Review

Eagerly awaited and as rascally salacious and creatively lecherous as hoped, SnakeOil for Snakes shows exactly why for a great many, Dick Venom & the Terrortones is THE essential British rock ‘n’ roll band. The band’s debut album is a web of flirtation and riot of rhythmic agitation bound up in vats of garage punk contagion posing as songs. It is manna for the insane and inspiration for the lascivious, but most of all, the album is punk ‘n’ roll to get a nation and continent romping.

Formed in 2010 by the inimitable Dick Venom, the Nottingham hailing band has left a fevered trail and reputation behind their live presence, an acclaim infected assault matched in plaudits by their increasingly impressive releases. Aside their own sweaty live stomps, the band has shared stages with the likes of The Meteors, The Rezillos, Bad For Lazarus, Demented Are Go, Lawnmower Deth, The Radiacs, Vince Ray & The Boneshakers, and Savage Messiah amongst a great many whilst first EP RockinRollin VampireMan set the trend for luring strong reactions and praise. Invasion Of The Spider Queen in 2013 only increased awareness and the band’s fan base, with last year’s EP The MonsterPussy Sessions nudging broader spotlights to match the band’s new step forward in sound. Yet another plateau of trash punk invention and pleasure has been breached by SnakeOil for Snakes, its crowd of dirty rock ‘n’ roll bred tracks the kind of thing addiction was invented for.

cover_RingMaster Review     With Wrex St.Clair, Dusty Vegas, and Stevie Vee alongside, Dick Venom is soon infesting ears with his distinctive and zealous tones, leaping forward from the choppy riff toothed entrance of Gun of a Tongue. The opener is soon into an eager stride, interrupting its jagged scenery with glam rock enterprise and sonic mischief. The Rezillos were mentioned earlier and there is an air of the Scottish band as the song bounds into the passions with its garage punk/rockabilly revelry.

I Can’t Find my BrainCell swiftly keeps attention and appetite engrossed and increasingly wanton for more straight after. As a thickly enticing bassline from St.Clair leads the virulence of the song, guitars spring tendrils of sonic temptation whilst beats roll along with a promiscuous tenacity. Venom as ever is a schizophrenic bundle of vocal imagination and rebelliousness, lauding over but only adding to the theatre of the track with his rousing energy, a success only repeated time and time again across SnakeOil for Snakes as shown quickly by TightPants (DoubleHeaded). Surf kissed strands of guitar spin their own irresistible weave as female vocals add a great snarl alongside Venom’s. The song despite its edge is more restrained than the previous pair of songs but just as fiercely catchy and impressive in its fifties rock hooks and tangy melodic imagination.

Three tracks in and it is fair to say that building from the potent inventive base of The MonsterPussy Sessions, the band has honed hooks to be more barbed and gripping with roars even more anthemic and rousing as ideas…well they are shaped by even greater ferocious imagination. Taken from that last EP, Dead Deadbeat Delinquent first time around was proof of a greater adventure being forged and even now, as an old well known friend, it holds the same rich enticement amongst just as devilishly imperious tracks. With bass and guitar bouncing around with slim yet inescapable addictive post/garage punk lures as the beats of Vegas rumble with the senses, the song is primal seduction; everything from toes to emotions quickly recruited and eagerly involved in its fresh psychosis of sound and maniacal enterprise.

Shimmering grooves from Vee welcome ears in next up FFFunny Kinda Luvin, the song’s winy nectar of temptation framed by more inciting rhythms and the measured vocal rowdiness of Venom. Bass and drums subsequently create a tribal enticing as sonic hues smoulder and grow into bedlamic invention around them, it all strung together by a prime hook which even in its absence within the proposal seems to weave rich magic on lustful emotions.

Dirty rock ‘n’ roll colours the walls of Last DumbDregs of Dragsvile after that, essences of The Stooges merging with something akin to The Spits feistily pleasing ears, whilst Go Fuck on the Sidewalk gets garage punk funky with its Cramps meets The Ghastly Ones tango. Both tracks thrill and lead to forceful hip swinging, especially the second of the pair before things get scuzzy with Do The Mash. Though not quite living up to its predecessors, certainly in swift convincing, the track soon boils with its fire of spicy guitar and robust rhythms courted by Venom at his most grouchy and gruff yet.

Taunting with an initial coaxing which surely is a distant relation to something the Knack might have conjured, No Good to get Up To thrills as it spills its intoxicating devilment next. Bluesy to the air, punk rock to the growl, the track prowls and stomps around with attitude and intimidation, igniting another wave of greed from the appetite along the way. It is success emulated by the gloriously lustful seduction of Planet of the HoneyFuzz. Imagine Sweet as Turbonegro and then bound in The Phenomenauts contagion and you have a hint of this unique Dick Venom & The Terrortones treat of an infestation.

   MyWay or the DryWay saunters in next, rhythmic taps a lead into a gorgeous creeping of noir woven creative theatre, whereas Crypt Tonight is a throbbing of garage rock ‘n’ roll which throughout its surf embraced rhythmic meander and melodic shimmering, is like a tongue led insatiable kiss on the senses and passions.

A final trespass of deeply biting and lingering hooks amidst compelling vocal and sonic imagination brings the album to a riveting close, Get Fucked Up Good a brilliant libidinal enticing and entrapment of ears and equally lusty reactions and a sensational end to an album exciting in all departments. Hopes were high and demanding because of The MonsterPussy Sessions, but now left looking lightweight by SnakeOil for Snakes. Dick Venom & the Terrortones are ready to be spoken in the same breath of the garage punk greats yet it is still easy to feel we have still only tapped into the first layer or two of their devious majesty.

SnakeOil for Snakes is out now via Jailhouse Morgue digitally and on 12” vinyl @ http://terrortones.bandcamp.com/



Pete RingMaster 09/11/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

For more exploration of the independent and promotional services check out http://www.zykotika.com/

Archie and the Bunkers – Self Titled

Promo'15B_RingMaster Review

Dubbed as ‘Hi-Fi Organ Punk’, the Archie and the Bunkers sound, to simplify things, is a compelling mix of garage punk and masterfully stripped back rock ‘n’ roll infused with a contagious revelry which has ears and imagination spinning. Created on drums, organ, and vocals alone, it is an enticing which has feet and emotions fully involved in scant minutes whilst in regard to its creators, to use the phrase Paul from Dirty Water Records, who are releasing the US duo’s self-titled debut album, used when introducing them to us, “There is no one like them.

Formed in 2013 with a name inspired by a character in the classic US television sitcom All in the Family and its spin-off Archie Bunker’s Place, Archie And The Bunkers is the creative union of brothers Emmett (drums/vocals) and Cullen (organ/vocals). Weaving in inspirations from the likes of Dead Boys, The Animals, The Stooges, The Screamers, The Damned, Jimmy Smith, and Richard ‘Groove’ Holmes into their strikingly unique romps of attitude loaded sound, the teenagers began recording in their basement with the subsequent self-produced EPs Comrade X. and Trade Winds being released in 2013 and ‘14 respectively. Sculpted from the inventive and often skilfully agitated rhythms of Emmett and Cullen’s whirling vintage organ sound, the bands songs are a diverse fusion of blues, acid jazz, and psych rock melded into a core old school punk and garage rock devilment. As the band’s debut album shows, it is a tapestry that is wonderfully raw and intrusive whilst being simultaneously a lingering and bewitching tempting. Its flavours are often recognisable, and influences open but with the instinctive unfussy yet intricate invention of the brothers, it is a proposition like no other.

Standard 3mm Spine Album_RingMaster Review   Recorded with legendary producer/engineer Jim Diamond at Ghetto Recorders in Detroit, the Archie and the Bunkers album opens with the dark seducing of Sally Lou. Opening with percussive coaxing and almost as quickly the heavy haunting of organ, the song subsequently slips into gear and a gentle but purposeful stroll. As Cullen’s fingers dance over the keys of his nostalgia oozing instrument with at times, as in many songs, a potent hue of The Stranglers’ Dave Greenfield to its melodic weave, vocals twist and turn in emotion and intensity as slower croons evolve into brawling squalls and vice versa. It is a thick persuasion to start things off but one soon outshone by the energetic stomp of Lady in RKO. The dark psych ‘n’ roll of the starter is replaced by a coarser post punk swagger with more than a tone of The Fall to it, especially in the rhythmic shuffle and vocal incitement offered. The keys again hone a Doors bred melodic adventure into something distinct to the imagination of Archie and the Bunkers, but fair to say if you have ever imagined what music an illegitimate offspring of Jim Morrison and Mark E. Smith might conjure, this song is your answer.

   I’m Not Really Sure What I’m Gonna Do takes over with a ska infused entrance, the organ twisting into the opposite direction every time ears expect the track to bounce along on that kind of saunter. The chosen path is just as vibrantly magnetic and infectious though, its punk/psych catchiness an irresistible recruitment of body and appetite with a healthy dose of creative and vocal ire to its character. It is a blend not so thick in the following Knifuli Knifula, though its flirtatious weave of melodic spicery has darker hues hinting and suggesting too as feet get wrapped up in its addictive dance. Moving into slower more sonically sultry scenery only adds to the inventive theatre working away on the imagination whilst vocally the duo keep the garage and punk heart of their music potently lit for an already very keen appetite for the album by this point.

Roaming organ enticing over voraciously rolling beats brings You’re the Victim into ears next, its infectious bait unrelenting as the song expands its breath of vocal confrontation and enthralling melodic colour. The track is sheer captivation, the craft of both brothers as eclectic as it is impressively resourceful allowing the song itself to nudge individual thoughts of The Animals, Into The Whale and once or twice The Ramones across its fiery seducing.

Each passing song seems to increase the strength and impressiveness of the album, Different Track vigorously prowling ears with its belligerent voice and creative psychosis, emerging like a mix of The Dropper’s Neck and Asylums sent back to the sixties/seventies and dragged back to now kicking and screaming. It, as those before it, just whips up swift intrigue and hunger for more, which is just what the outstanding Miss Taylor with its rhythmic tenacity courted by the flowing temptation of the organ provides in riveting style. There is just time to catch a breath as the exceptional warped waltz relinquishes its grip, a moment for a quick gasp before Austria brings its cosmopolitan intrigue and great repetitive enticement to tease and excite ears and imagination. Once more, a scent of The Stranglers lines and spices up the excellent encroachment of sound and suggestion to leave satisfaction full and that urge for more rampant.

I Wish I Could ensures the thrills keep coming; its jerky energy and mischievous nature inciting an infection loaded slice of power pop built on the mischief of The Dickies and the plain stirring roar of Dead Boys whilst Trade Winds stomps around with even more seventies punk fuel to its raucous brawl of dirty addictiveness. The two songs steal the show upon the album, certainly emerging as the biggest favourites amongst nothing but, though they are quickly rivalled by the post punk/new wave/psych rock amalgam that is The Last Stooge. Again a thick grin is drawn by its brief but bracing ingenuity of sound and craft, a smile which started on track one and only ever ebbs and flows in its broadness across the rest of the album.

Completed by the tantalising instrumental serenade of Joanie, it is almost impossible to escape the lure of Archie and the Bunkers, band and album, without at least one more thick listen of at least a song or two, or more, not that there are any complaints of course. Your favourite album of the year it just might be, something unique to others it certainly is.

Archie and the Bunkers is out now via Dirty Water Records @ http://www.dirtywaterrecords.co.uk/shop/#!/Archie-and-the-Bunkers/c/13761039/offset=0&sort=normal

http://www.archieandthebunkers.com https://www.facebook.com/archieandthebunkersofficial   https://twitter.com/hifiorganpunk

Pete RingMaster 27/10/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

For more exploration of the independent and promotional services check out http://www.zykotika.com/

Scanner – Splat

scanner_RingMaster Review

Seeding their own devilish riots in old school punk bred both sides of the Atlantic, Pennsylvanian rockers Scanner unleash their third album to keep the aggressive roar of nostalgic and organic punk rock snarling. There is plenty more essences to the thirteen tracks making up Splat, variety as keen as the attitude fuelling the release, but ultimately album and band is raw rock ‘n’ roll in heart and temptation.

Scanner was formed in 1979 by vocalist/bassist Joe Brady and guitarist/vocalist Junnie Fortney, the band name inspired by the David Cronenberg film Scanners after Brady read about it in a monster magazine. Pretty soon the band was stirring up attention and a loyal following throughout the Central Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Washington D.C. areas. Their sound embraces inspirations from 50’s rock and roll, 60’s hard rock and surf, and 70’s glam and punk, honing it into the band’s own horror/ punk rock, surf and garage punk exploits. 2012 saw the current line-up come together with the addition of drummer/vocalist Troy Alwine, with a year later the trio releasing debut album One Foot In The Grave, And More Pissed Than Ever. It was an acclaimed introduction to the band for a great many and confirmation of the qualities Scanner fans had been enthusing about for the previous pair of decades. Last year was marked by the release of Exploding Heads in Harrisburg – Live Recordings From 1982, a live album of old material as well as the Monsters Axes & Choppers EP from Brady’s other project, horror rockers Losers After Midnight.

With the Brady conceived and produced 45 band strong critically acclaimed benefit compilation album Assault & BATtery, which raised funds for Bat World Sanctuary, also on the CV for 2014, Scanner now set sights on the broadest attention yet with Splat, and as soon as opener Fist in the Air has ears gripped and emotions elevated the thought is that punk fans of all ages and eras need this encounter in their lives. The track quickly ensures the listener is following its title, its opening throaty bassline the lure into familiar yet refreshing punk riffs and sonic spicery. Attitude is ablaze as the plain but inviting tones of Brady incite lyrically and in expression, his bait an easy involvement within the more calm but forceful blend of crisp rhythms and raw riffs.

_0_SPLAT_Cover_RingMaster Review   The strong start is soon overshadowed by Just Like Bela, the band’s horror punk invention lining the predatory gait and design of the song. There is a healthy whiff of Misfits/Wednesday 13 to the encounter but its own character shines through, especially with the inventive mix of vocals and hard rock enterprise which frees itself. As it eclipsed its predecessor, so the track is outdone by the outstanding Living Life to the Emptiest. The third track has the edge and air of Dead Kennedys to its belligerent and anthemic confrontation, entwining it with great slithers of melodic acidity from Fortney’s guitar and punching it through with the raunchy bass and whipping beats of Brady and Alwine respectively.

A rapaciously commanding cover of The Angels’ Straight Jacket comes next, the song given a no frills make-over and emerging with a feel of The Saints to its richly satisfying punk ‘n’ roll, before Biker provides its own seventies inspired enticement. The song takes ears and thoughts right back into the breaking storm of punk rock, its DIY feel a bracing two minutes of raw endeavour and tenacity.

   Letter to the Government spills seventies glam and southern dirt rock revelry in its political attack within a bluesy entanglement of sound and enterprise whilst Running Riot sees Scanner take on the Cock Sparrer’s street punk classic to captivating success before haunting the psyche with Ghost Song. All three tracks have ears and emotions fully enlisted but it is the last of the trio which seduces the imagination and passions most. Its surf/psychobilly climate has echoes of The Meteors and Tiger Army to it but, as with all songs, variety is a vocal part, here punk and seventies garage rock bring extra juicy hues.

The Turbonegro meets Jello Biafra smelling Queen of the Stage has the body bouncing around next whilst a broad smile and further burst of pleasure is sparked by the band’s reworking of Bowie’s Suffragette City. The song has everything which you will have enjoyed in the original but roughed up and twisted around a bit, resulting in a great version to rival any other you may have come across.

Mischief and humour is as much a healthy asset as the flavours and invention of the Scanner sound and all give a fun time in Yeah We Suck, a round-up of ‘advice’ they and most bands will have gained at one time or another. That urge to have a ball continues in the album’s title track, an infectious brawl of virulence which is for the most instrumental but does have a lyrical bounty consisting of just its title being repeated with increasing relish. It, as most before it, has a claim for best song within Splat but the favourite spot gets grasped at the last moment by closing song Kaw-Liga. A country music song written by Hank Williams and Fred Rose, and covered by the likes of Johnny and the Hurricanes, Del Shannon, Roy Orbison, and The Residents over the years, Scanner turn it into a dark rock ‘n’ roll predator. Riffs and rhythms almost stalk the senses as the outstanding blaze of vocals ebb and flow across its sinister surf spiced landscape. It is only half the adventure though, the band breaking out into cow punk devilry too, switching between both provocative contagions throughout for one riveting and thrilling romp.

The US hailing Scanner might be an unknown secret right now but they hopefully and should not be for much longer as Splat trespasses on increasing numbers of ears for an increasing awareness. Go get some is our suggestion.

Splat is out now.

RingMaster 26/08/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

For more independent exploration check out http://www.zykotika.com/

Atomic Suplex – Fourteen Inches of Fist

Atomicsupplex_RingMaster Review

Great rock ‘n’ roll always benefits from a good dose of creative dementia in its devilry and you get plenty of that and more in the bedlam that is Fourteen Inches of Fist. The new album from London quartet Atomic Suplex is nonstop ingenious lunacy, a dangerous riot for body and soul, and quite brilliant.

The UK quartet has been stirring up sonic trouble for a number of years now, earning increasing acclaim with every release and a reputation as one ferociously exciting and uncompromising band live. Stages across the UK and Europe, as well as Asia, have been shared with the likes of The Hives, Guitar Wolf, The Gories, The Adolescents, Nobunny, The Kids, Jet Boys, Armitage Shanks, Richard Herring, The Spits, The Fat White Family, The Buzzcocks, Theee Bat amongst many more whilst singles and EP’s over time, and certainly acclaimed 2010 debut album Bathroom Party on Crypt Records, have marked the band out as a must investigation for a growing horde of fans. Now it is Fourteen Inches of Fist raising a storm since its recent release, and declaring Atomic Suplex as not a must but the essential riot for all rock ‘n’ roll fans.

Sound and album is garage rock, punk rock, noise rock…any kind of dirty, insatiable rock ‘n’ roll you can think of and a torrent of fun from its first to last breath. One Man Party kicks things off with the announcement “When I say I’m a dick, you best believe I’m a dick! D- I- K.” It sets the aggressive belligerent tone which rousingly fuels the whole album, and a song which is soon erupting into a salaciously tenacious slab of punk ‘n’ roll driven by the rousing tones of Jim Suplex. A sonic web of noise is soon grasping ears through his and Emma Leaning’s guitars whilst a gloriously throaty bass sound is conjured by Dan Suplex amidst the wicked swipes of drummer JD Kickdrum. The track is pure attitude, like early Damned merging with The Sonics, and instant slavery.

The album’s title track comes next, it too a concussive explosion of sound but this time infusing honky-tonk piano, blues rock spicing, and garage rock ‘n roll devilry into its mix of raw sixties and seventies rock ‘n’ roll. Flames of brass only add to the theatre of the muggy scenery as too the gritty backing vocals of Emma behind Jim’s raw incitement. As its predecessor, the track has ears and appetite lustful, a success 14 Inches of Fist relentlessly achieves from first song to last.

Cover_RingMaster Review   Set It On Fire has limbs scything through air next with seventies punk antagonism meets psych rock contagion, its guitars and brass a resourceful scorching, whilst Wild Love invites naughty deeds with a Rocket From the Crypt meets Dick Venom and the Terrortones infestation of sound. Both tracks are ridiculously compelling persuasive yet find themselves outshine by the outstanding Firing Line. The song is manna for the ears and heart, its Mighty Mighty Bosstones like opening alone igniting the instincts to party before rhythms provide a jungle of unstoppable temptation frequented by wonderful squirts of sax. They develop into subsequent deranged toxicity further in, colluding with a just as rigorously arousing web of guitar and bass enterprise. As ever like a side show barker, Jim adds his vocal stirring to the mix for one slice of irreverent creative alchemy.

Fifties inspired and seventies coloured rock ’n’ roll gets the Atomic Suplex corruption next, the raw and caustic devilment of S. U. P. L. E. X. a tempest of sonic and vocal raucousness pierced by melodic bait and fiery hooks. It is less than a minute and a half of catchy mayhem before Two Girls flirts like a punk incarnation of The Shangri-las tutored by The Rezillos. As all songs though, air is raw, sound scuzzy, and the encounter as abrasive as it is virulent, and again thrilling.

   J.D. Attack pounds the senses like the bastard son of a Showaddywaddy and Reverend Horton Heat union, its thumping rhythms and heavyweight brawl of sound one party you know would welcome gate crashers with devilish relish whilst the corrosively scarring Ass Tecnica is noise punk knavery which, as in the previous song, twists anything from surf and r&b to garage rock into its ravenous bellow. The pair unsurprisingly leave exhaustion and exhilaration in their wake, as too the eighteen second punk assault of No Pain No Gain, a song more than backing up its title.

Like The Cramps meets The Mobbs, You’ve Got Some Nerve has the body throwing moves hips were surely not made for across its forty odd seconds, a wonderful physical test followed by some respite through the hex that is Pancho. Sultry sax caresses ears initially though in no time it is joined by a wall of sonic intrigue and adventure which has a whiff of Oh! Gunquit to it. Continuing to spill funky hooks, searing grooves, and a garage bred invention; the song is as psychotic as it is clear infection, and another pinnacle of a very lofty landscape to Fourteen Inches of Fist.

Chicken Rich is a ragtime hued haunt seeded in the past which descends into anarchy the further its nostalgia persists whilst closing track White Shoes is quite simply incendiary rock ‘n’ roll which manages to spin a tapestry suggesting everyone from Billy Haley to The Cramps, King Salami and The Cumberland 3 to Turbonegro, and Screaming Jay Hawkins to Johnny Thunders within its epidemic of unbridled energy and senses inflaming rock ‘n’ roll.

Fourteen Inches of Fist is one of the best real and organic rock ‘n’ roll album this year and of a few before, maybe the best, and Atomic Suplex the one band you were meant to lose your sanity with.

Fourteen Inches of Fist is available now via Dirty Water Records on 12” vinyl, CD, and digitally.

RingMaster 25/08/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright


The Creeping Ivies – The Witch House EP

creeping ivies_RingMaster Review

All those with dodgy hips turn away now as we have one slice of physical slavery for you courtesy of The Creeping Ivies. Revealing a new wash of ingenuity in their sound which borders on pop, the Scottish band again enthrals and seduces with their unique style of garage rock ‘n’ roll which quite simply is impossible not to get a little lustful over. Consisting of three exotically and flirtatiously sonic slices of dark rock ‘n’ roll, EP and band have ventured into a broader landscape of invention and tempting which might be best described as The Shangri-las meets The Cramps meets The Revillos at a bordello of ill-repute presided over by Johnny Thunders.

The Creeping Ivies since forming in 2011 has been no strangers to acclaim here and across media and fans thanks to two dynamically thrilling and fiercely dynamic albums and a clutch of EPs which have just lit the fires of devilry. It is fair to say that each subsequent encounter has shown a potent evolution of the band’s garage punk/rock bred sound from the last, with a matching strength in temptation. Between last year’s outstanding album Ghost World and The Witch House, the band has seen one half of the duo in drummer Duncan Destruction leave and vocalist/guitarist Becca “Bomb” Murray subsequently joined by bassist Christy Taylor and stick man Ian Duncan. With a big change to a band which has also drawn constant acclaim for a live presence taking in shows with the likes of Viv Albertine, Vic Godard & Subway Sect, Bob Log III, and The Primevals amongst many acclaimed headlining shows of their own, there was a wonder of how things would move or indeed change ahead. The Witch House swiftly shows that as ever The Creeping Ivies are an irresistible creative lure revelling in their inspirations whilst breeding their own striking imagination as they go exploring new avenues. The hex that is their sound has developed an appetite for sixties inspired pop on the EP to go along with a passion for garage rock ‘n’ roll from across the decades. The result is an EP which is majestically glorious and ridiculously addictive.

witch house cover_RingMaster Review   It opens up with its title track, The Witch House flirting through the voodoo rhythms the band has so masterfully transfixes with from day one. Where Mr Destruction’s beats used to transmit intent and resonance like a virus through ear and bone though, Duncan’s beats are more tempered to match the, dare we say mellower, tones of the music yet cast an equally lingering network of anthemic persuasion. Murray’s guitar is just as swift in its spicy coaxing as her recognisable and exhilarating vocal shrills and punkish tone. Completed by the dark rumble of Taylor’s bass, the song swings with attitude and a flirtatious swagger ripe with simple but deeply rooting Ramones seeded hooks and nostalgia bred chords. The track is scintillating revelry to start things off but just the beginning of great deeds.

The following Only the Moon opens with its own infectious shuffle, led in by more flavoursome rock ‘n’ roll guitar and blossoming into a tenacious and composed canter of sparkling riffs and grumbling rhythmic shadows. From that same moment a vibrant melodic and catchy smile also brews, erupting in a chorus complete with inciting handclaps and a vocal tempting which only the deaf could refuse full involvement with. Surf breezes and a sultry air only adds to the compelling dance of the song; sixties pop meets modern garage psychosis at its very best.

The release comes to an end through Bye Bye Babe, a track as much seventies melodic infection as it is sixties garage rock and original 21st century devilment. The guitars seem influenced by bands like The Ventures and Johnny & the Hurricanes, rhythms by bands like The Orson Family and The Bomboras, whilst Murray is like a sultry Fay Fife. Wrapped in an invention and imagination which holds whispers of possible inspirations like Josef K and The Pixies, the song is honey for ears, manna for the psyche and a third kiss of brilliance in The Witch House.

There is no denying we have had a soft spot for The Creeping Ivies since day one but equally there is no argument in the fact the band just gets bigger, better, and more essential with every proposition with The Witch House EP the finest moment for the band yet. We keep saying that over each encounter and suspect it will not be the last time either. Ahead of Your New Favourite Garage Band, a forthcoming compilation of previous singles as well as EP and album tracks from the band, this moment in time feels like The Creeping Ivies are starting a new exciting chapter with thrilling new sounds. Time to get spooked and infested guys and girls…

The Witch House EP is out now with Your New Favourite Garage Band available from October 31st, both though Flowers In The Dustbin.

RingMaster 18/08/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

THE DROPPERS NECK release ‘200 Volts’ video

The Droppers Neck Promo shot_RingMaster Review

Fiery Brit sludgy punk rockers ‘The Dropper’s Neck’ have uncaged the spanking new video for ‘200 Volts’. The cut is lifted from the band’s exhilarating new EP ‘Nineteen | Sixteen’ and can be viewed here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OAvTT3HbL2s

By drawing from the formidable powers of Cancer Bats, Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster and Gallows, The Dropper’s Neck hit you with robust riffery, compelling dynamism and mesmerising dark hooks. The enigmatic quintet are poised to break from the underground this Summer.

Hailing from Essex, The Dropper’s Neck were born in 2011 and feature the talents of Lloyd Mathews (Vocals), Chris Blake (Lead Guitar), George Barrows (Rhythm Guitar), Jamie Abela (Drums) and Jack Turner (Bass). The five-piece soon cultivated an engaging live set and quickly built a name for themselves on the live circuit through extensively touring and by delivering a series of highly energetic and frenzied shows.

The band’s growth continued as they released their debut album ‘Second Coming’. The record was recorded by producer Paul Tipler (Placebo & Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster) and helped launch them to a national level. The album picked up a glut of national press and radio support, with Rock Sound, Classic Rock Magazine, Powerplay Magazine, Big Cheese Magazine and Kerrang! all firmly backing the band. Last Summer, support continued for the sludgy punkers as they released their explosive video single, ’Line Me Up For The Firing Squad’, which was exclusively premiered by Metal Hammer.

The industrious combo are now back in the saddle and fully loaded with a brand new EP ‘Nineteen | Sixteen’. The record is their best work to date and is brimming with seven slabs of highly toxic dirty punk rock, dashed with hints of psychobilly, and brimming with unabashed energy and sheer force. The frenzied garage punk new video single ‘200 Volts’ is a key highlight of the record and displays the fivesome at their very best. With a plethora of shows mapped out for the Summer, you need to latch onto the band now before they lift off.

Read our Nineteen | Sixteen review @ https://ringmasterreviewintroduces.wordpress.com/2015/07/10/the-droppers-neck-nineteensixteen/

THE DROPPER’S NECK HAVE UNLEASHED ‘200 VOLTS’, WATCH IT HERE https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OAvTT3HbL2s



The Dropper’s Neck – Nineteen|Sixteen

The Droppers Neck Promo shot_RingMaster Review

To date there has always been a licking of lips in anticipation of any new encounter with The Dropper’s Neck and each time so far they have rewarded with dark rock ’n’ roll which simply infests body and imagination. True to form the UK quintet has done it again with their Nineteen|Sixteen EP, the dirtiest, sludgiest, most aggressively provocative offering from the band yet, an aural proposal perfectly suited to and reflective of its lyrical theme. The EP is inspired by The Great War and takes the listener along with its protagonist into the initial ‘glamour’ and lure of conflict, through its fierce pestilence before leaving them in the stark aftermath which follows. This all comes with the familiar but ever evolving fusion of psych and noise rock, punk and psychobilly brewed by the band, and quite simply it is another ravishing treat from The Dropper’s Neck.

Formed in 2011, The Essex band quickly pricked attention and appetites with early songs and releases but it was debut album Second Coming which lit an acclaiming and hungry spotlight. Drawing on influences such as Gallows, Blood Brothers, Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster, Cancer Bats, Every Time I Die, and Dead Kennedys, band and album unleashed something familiar yet powerfully unique, a distinctiveness which has festered and blossomed through the incendiary single Line Me Up For The Firing Squad and now to stronger depths with Nineteen|Sixteen. The single was certainly a potent teaser for the EP, though in hindsight just one glimpse of the dark throes and adventures now uncaged.

The Dropper's neck Cover Artwork_RingMaster Review   The release opens with the scene setting 57,470, an intro thrusting ears and imagination right into the landscape of rifle fire, thunderous artillery, and fear soaked horses. It’s violently portentous hue leads into King & Country, a sonic bridge to the incoming bruising beats and ravenous riffs entangled in an invitingly spicy groove. Rousing and anthemic, the track is a sign up of ears and emotions as potent as the bait enticing the young men of the narrative. Already though there is a snarl and corrosive edge to the music, expulsions of vocal hostility from Lloyd Mathews aligning with his expected and great monotone laced delivery. Hard rock ‘n roll stirring up air and body, the track is a forceful incitement setting things in compelling motion.

Somme comes next, the rhythmic and anthemic overtones of its predecessor veining its initial coaxing whilst hooks and grooves are soaked in even sharper, almost venomous incitement. Striding with an Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster meets Engerica like warped swing and brawling with a caustic Cancer Bats/KEN mode like ferocity, the latter becoming more intensive in ears as the reality of the horror of war is opened up, the track is little less than deranged bestial contagion.

Its increasing hellacious presence makes way for the even more psychotic Line Me Up For The Firing Squad, the track a maelstrom of rabid sounds, scarring vocals, and blistering viciousness. Within its raw and merciless tempest though, grooves and rhythms create the addictive shuffle of bait and infectiousness renowned from the band, the bass of Jack Turner especially seductive at times within the muddy and humid atmosphere of the unforgiving blaze. Production across the release is raw and very often as cold as the soundscape being explored; an aspect some have offered as a slight flaw but it only adds to and represents the physical effect and filthy ambience of the ground the EP’s context is inspired by.

The thumping beats of drummer Jamie Abela trap and push ears into the scuzzy punk ‘n’ roll of 200 Volts next, the guitars of Chris Blake and George Barrows creating a creative antagonism of defiant riffs and provocative grooves respectively. The predatory spine of the song is a virulent enticing which sends searing flames of sonic fire and expels hardcore spawned vocal hostility from its sobering bait with increasing tenacity and rage. It is an abrasive storm exciting and scarring already bruised and tender senses, no respite coming with the outstanding contagiously toxic and inventively addictive Monster. The track swarms through ears and over the psyche with its rhythmic emprise and sonic nagging, its body as the previous encounter, a garage punk spawned dynamo of bracing angst and violent intoxication, and the best track on the release, though there are so many rivals such as the closing Stutter which rampages straight after. Everything about the song, from jabbing and military seeded beats to erosive riffs, vocal diversity to scything grooves, is sheer inventive and hostile virulence, rock ‘n’ roll to honour the dead and incite the darkness of horrors past.

With a bugle announcing the end of hostilities in hidden track The Eleventh Hour, the Nineteen | Sixteen EP comes to a haunting close leaving thoughts rife and satisfaction full. The release is not a history lesson but certainly it makes a provocative and striking proposal with its pungent theme whilst musically revealing another thrilling exploit from one of the UK’s most exciting bands.

The Nineteen | Sixteen EP is available from 13th July @ https://thedroppersneck.bandcamp.com/album/nineteen-sixteen


RingMaster 10/07/205

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