The last four years has seen British trio, Nosebleed establish and declare their voracious presence on the UK live scene; time which equally has seen their sound honed and reputation built, it all leading up to the moment they launch themselves at nationwide recognition. That time is now with the release of their debut album, Scratching Circles On The Dancefloor. It is a brief but relentless stomp of garage punk nurtured devilry allowing no time for a breath but giving a wealth of insatiable moments to breed instinctive lust for.
Thirteen virulent songs over twenty and a small handful of minutes, Scratching Circles On The Dancefloor flies from the speakers flinging song to song hooks like confetti and springing inventive twists like a mad professor. It is a rock ‘n’ roll dervish but with a devious control and scheme which sees feet, hips, and the imagination merciless to its manipulation.
Recorded live across one weekend alongside producer Andy Hawkins (Hawk Eyes, The Pigeon Detectives), Scratching Circles on the Dancefloor sets its intent with its first lungful of breaths. The initial guitar lure of opener I’m Okay wags an inviting finger before being quickly joined by hungry rhythms and the vocal mischief of guitarist Eliott Verity and bassist Ben Hannah. For fifty odd seconds the song rigorously hops around, Dicky Riddims’ beats setting the tone for the punk infested romp.
As the excellent start lays its last jab, its successor I’m Shaking is in the starting blocks, loco grooves teasing away as the track bursts into manic life. As rhythms pounce and hooks infest, the song sinks its mania into the imagination like a fusion of King salami and The Mobbs; teasing and fingering the psyche with its viral appetite and character. Superb does not quite cut its magnificence; a height of bliss eagerly backed by the addictive antics of Time And Time Again which quickly entangles the listener in its swinging grooves and excitable rhythms.
The voracious design of the album simply continues with the next pair of Wrong and Start Again. Not for the first or last time across the album, there is a whiff of seventies punk band The Cortinas especially in the first of these two with its sharp almost spiky hooks and instinctive catchiness while the second uncages a riot of bullish rock ‘n’ roll as punk as it is fifties scented honed into another irresistible and individual Nosebleed infestation.
As soon as the rhythmic rumble of Everybody breaks the momentary silence between songs, body and greed was sparked here; the track trapping an easy submission with its web of grooves and hooks let alone vocal incitement while Slow Down does the complete opposite as it had hips swinging and limbs flying with its dirt stained rock ‘n’ roll. Both tracks not only get under the skin but deep into the blood taking over spirit and soul simultaneously yet still get outshone by Scratching Circles. Like a puppeteer, the song dictated movement and energy; its Stones kissed heat and tenacious enterprise delicious spice in its creative irritancy and riveting manipulation.
Can’t Stay Here harasses like a child which will not take no for an answer to what it wants, the song bouncing around with its eyes firmly on the prize before Psycho grabs best track honours with its psychobilly hued rascality. Like the bad kid your mother warned you to stay away from, the track leads to wicked habits and salacious antics and boy does it reward for going astray.
A sixties garage rock hue lines the attitude soaked Kick Me When I’m Down next; swinging grooves and agitated rhythms gripping attention from its first touch, flames of melodic seduction from the guitar adding to its rich lure while I Can’t Tell You Anything creates a maze of hooks and grooves impossible to escape from, not that you will want to; an intent which is seeded in the album’s first note and only intensified thereon in.
It all comes to a close with What You Have Done, a ravenous collusion of grumbling filth lined bass, intrusive beats, and predacious riffs all linked by the band’s persistently anthemic vocals. It too has rockabilly/psychobilly infested fuel to its roar as well as a mouth-watering Misfits seeded glaze bringing the album to a close in majestic but certainly rampantly salacious style.
There are encounters which just inflame the individual instincts of us all, Scratching Circles On The Dancefloor is one for us, a release leading us to drooling ardour. We will not be alone as quite simply the album is a garage punk classic, indeed a rock ‘n’ roll masterclass from a band surely about to take national attention by the scruff of its neck.
Scratching Circles On The Dancefloor is out now through TNS Records and available @ https://tnsrecords.bandcamp.com/album/scratching-circles-on-the-dancefloor
https://www.facebook.com/nosebleedband/
Pete RingMaster 11/04/2018
Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright
Post-God Metaphysics opens up with Love Is Superficial and immediately Gray is teasing ears with sonic intrigue, coaxing them and the imagination with infectious rhythms in close quarters. As swiftly the richly enticing tones of Martins flirt and dance on the blossoming landscape of the song, it all as infectious as it is musically and emotionally predacious. The track is superb and just the beginning of one exhilarating creative emprise.
Checkpoint Planet is a slightly calmer waltz which just as easily has the hips swinging and appetite devouring with its virulent infectiousness. As throughout the album, Pav’s lead vocal explorations are just as magnetically supported by the rest of the band’s throats, though it is the animated throb of Tama’s bass which steals the biggest portion of the passions before The Dries bursts in on a The Dickies bred lure to uncage its own voracious stomp. A fusion of sixties, seventies and current punk ‘n’ roll, the song is simply irresistible; manna to the devil in us all.
It opens with I Fell In Love With The World, a track which saunters in on a spicy groove and rapacious rhythms which as they leap are just waiting to unleash their full energy which they do a touch in the subsequent flirtatious stroll of the track. Loaded with tasty hooks, eager vocals, and swinging harmonies, the song blossoms into a seductive roar of sixties teased garage rock and pop rock devilment with a chorus which is inescapable creative bait. Providing hips and the spirit one anthemic vehicle to lose composure with, the track is irresistible.
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.
Though not quite finding the heights of its predecessors, Anything you want is no lightweight in persuasive rock ‘n’ roll either, its tenacious swing and sharp hooks leading the listener into eager involvement while Noone´s giving up in here, whilst keeping enjoyment full, allows a breath to be taken with its Americana kissed blues croon and suggestive guitar woven melodic web. Both tracks spread the rich flavours in the Royal Podencos sound further, each song so far revealing a different angle in the garage rock ‘n’ roll heart of the band.
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.
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.