The Strays – Drop Out Zone

With a description of “No Doubt meets Imelda May”, it was hard to deny an urge to go explore those it has been applied to. The fact that the protagonists in question’s debut album has caught the imagination of and been released by Western Star Records only added to that instinct. What we found was one rousing stomp of a release in the shape of Drop Out Zone from a band in The Strays which had us bouncing from start to finish with a highly appetising mix of rockabilly, garage rock, and fifties inspired rock ‘n’ roll with plenty more involved.

Cheltenham based, The Strays have already been teasing proper attention with the release of their first EP, Wham Bam, Thank You Ma’am, in 2017. It was an introduction of sound and potential potently reaffirmed by its successor Brand New Day the following year while the two records union together as Brand New Ma’am! earlier this year provided an ear grabbing tease for the upcoming adventure of Drop Out Zone. Of course some of us are only coming to the British quartet through the album but a look back shows The Strays an already captivating proposition with a sound to match but their new release sees the band at their most imaginative, adventurous, and striking yet.

With songs inspired by the band’s decision to quit their full-time jobs and focus on music and the struggles it brought and they conquered, Drop Out Zone quickly, hungrily had ears on board with the opening canter of first track, Hey Little Lady. Straight away the throaty lure of Kris Jakab-Hall’s bass colludes with the crisply landing swings of drummer Gary Chamberlain; their collusion instantly firing up attention and physical response before the spicy threads of Sam Cordery’s guitar added to the animated bait. The song’s subsequent potent stroll sees the magnetic tones of Stella Sonic complete the temptation, the spring in its step and grin on its face across as good as four and a half minutes setting the tone for the fun and enterprise fuelling the release.

Things only grow more compelling and contagious as 2Fives and Twos sets its creative trap, it too another song which needs mere seconds to grip ears and appetite as Cordery winds addictive melodic wires around both. Punk and rockabilly soon converge on the rock ‘n’ roll instincts of the song, its tenacious gait and contagiousness a quick infestation of body with the Pauline Murray-esque tint to Sonic’s voice icing on the delicious cake.

Night Time Is The Right Time grabs its portion of ardour next. Again the guitar casts a highly tempting lure to gets things boiling before, with matching flavours to those entangling within its predecessor, the track weaves its own individual boisterous romp. Sharp hooks and alluring harmonies go to highlight the inventive come-on before Oh Baby No opens up its jazzy arms to a seductive surf lined midnight stroll through rock ‘n’ pop drama. It is one of those tracks where it is easy to see where those No Doubt, Imelda May and for us Wanda Jackson references are bred.

The Strays certainly know how to kick a song off, each sparked by imaginative and irresistible leads and no more potently than that springing Get Out Of This Town into life. Guitar and rhythms surround ears with intrigue and salacious intent, nagging rhythms and a hooked loaded guitar groove taunting and dancing with attention before the song opens up into its swing-a-billy saunter, dragging the body easily along for the ride.

The album’s title track allows a breath to be taken though it too is a buddle of energy and infectiousness with its pop toned amble refusing to be ignored; Drop Out Zone proving increasingly manipulative by the second and chorus. It’s easy to ride contagion is soon eclipsed though as the psychobilly wired Can’t Get Through To You preys on ears with its Hillybilly Moon Explosion like predation and feral catchiness though it too is slightly outshone by its successor. Fire and Ice is a glorious fusion of hooked swamped rock ‘n’ roll flavours, a real temptress of a song soon ripping favourite track honours from any of its companions hands.

The intoxicating fifties country blues soaked nurtured rockabilly of Twelve Bar Booze, thoughts of Wanda Jackson again sparked by the great addition to the pleasure, and the heavy hard rock spiced rumble of Break Me Down effortlessly keep the album roaring in body and spirit, This Life following suit with its deviously persuasive foot stomping fusion of swing, garage punk, and rock ‘n’ roll, a full pleasure sounding something akin to The BeauBowBelles meets No Doubt meets The Creepshow.

Just Another Day completes the album, its fiery rock breath and instinctive rhythmic pulse swagger an unapologetically tempting canvas for the ever tasty tones of Sonic and the virulent craft and endeavours of the band. It is a fine end to an album which just got under the skin in swift time and devilishly nestled there thereon in; The Strays providing another of the year’s real pleasures.

Drop Out Zone is out now through Western Star Records.

https://thestraysmusic.co.uk/   https://www.facebook.com/TheStraysLive/   https://twitter.com/TheStraysMusic

Pete RingMaster 20/08/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Les Bof! – Voila!

Everything about Les Bof! is a surprise and real pleasure; great rewards found in our introduction to them courtesy of the guys at the ever welcome Dirty Water Records. The reason for it all is new album, Voila!; a collection of songs which got under the skin like a mischievously voracious itch.

Les Bof! revels in the heart of French 60s garage rock but a band hailing from the rousing highlands of Scotland. Featuring members of The Thanes, The No-Things, The Sensation Seekers, and Preston Pfanz & the Seaton Sands, the quartet consists of guitarist Angus McPake, bassist Colin Morris, drummer Ross Fairbairn, and French chanteur Laurent Monbel. 2011 saw the release of debut album, Nous Sommes les Bof!, something easy to feel we really missed out on such the addictive and rousing exploits now of Voila! and its fourteen enthralling romps.

From the moment opener Jezebel melodically rumbled into view it is fair to say we were hooked, especially once it set down its swinging gait and nagging stroll. Monbel’s vocals as swiftly enticed even though in a language we have never had a handle on, his tempting more than matched by guitar and rhythmic enterprise. There is a whiff of Mano Negra to the track’s garage rock revelry, a favouring which repeats enjoyably across the album from time to time.

With its drama and captivation increasing by the chord, the song makes way for the just as alluring Fin De Monde, a song with definite Stones-esque flaming to its hooks and energy. Rock ‘n’ roll of the most magnetic order it is still soon eclipsed by the thrilling Vie De Chien. Already in three songs Les Bof! have proven adept at the most merciless of hooks and melodic devilry, the third song casting its own irresistible types led by the delicious groove of the bass wrapped in the spidery snare of guitar; alone one of the most seductive moments of the album.

The sing-a-long canter of Ma Claque just commands participation next up while Je Suis Le Boss owns ears with its sepia shaded sixties shuffle blessed with the intoxicating jangle of keys and the harmonic flaming of Monbel; another great pair which is still outshone by another as Drogue ‘N’ Roll swaggers in with unapologetically flirtatious grooves leading devilish power pop tainted moves and garage pop sprung temptation.

The surf seduction of Souviens Toi nestles perfectly in the arms of the song’s intimate chanson to simply bewitch with Un Deux Trois Quatre bringing the body back to full involvement with its eager animation and virulent quiver; physical excitement further escalated by the rawer but no less melodically enticing rock ‘n’ roll of Soixante-Huitard.

As Liberes Moi with its fiery sixties breath inflames and the similarly era nurtured prowl of C’est La Vie taunts, Voila! only enriched its fascination, grip, and variety of sound with La Fievre Du R’n’R adding to all with its garage rock fever and inescapable holler.

The album goes out as masterfully as it came in; Port St Louis teasing and transfixing with its smouldering instrumental writhing with threads of sonic fire before Formidable provides arguably the most addictive moment of the album with its niggling hooks and flirtation loaded swing. It is a glorious end to quite simply one of the real pleasures of the year so far so as Les Bof! declares…Voila!

Voila! is out now via Dirty Water Records: available @ https://lesbof.bandcamp.com/album/voila

 

 https://www.facebook.com/Les-BOF-109315552443996/   http://www.lesbof.fr

Pete RingMaster 25/06/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Weird Omen – Surrealistic Feast

Simultaneously offering a haunting bordering on nightmarish temptation alongside a warm seductive tonic for the senses, the rock ‘n’ roll of French trio Weird Omen has always been a magnetic lure but within new album Surrealistic Feast reveals itself a sonically perceptual anomaly as it casts the listener adrift on a purgatory sea of addictive wonder. Try pinning the band’s sound down and you will flounder on the rocks of defeat but there is no missing its instinctive fascination and rousing prowess as proven within their new adventure of captivating strangeness.

Surrealistic Feast is the third full-length from the threesome of baritone saxophonist Fred Rollercoaster (King Khan and the Shrines, Bee Dee Kay and the Roller Coaster…), guitarist/vocalist Sister Ray (Ray and the Dead Drums…), and drummer/vocalist Remi Pablo (Escobar, Anomalys…) basking in a sound which has perpetually grown and boldly explored new realms by the record. It is a proposition as raw as it is radiant, a fusion of garage rock and punk with psych and neo psych tendencies amidst dark punk ‘n’ roll inclinations but a sound which still emerges outside of that broad decades embracing suggestion. Now within Surrealistic Feast it flourishes like never before, every song an individual collusion of flavours emerging pure and unique Weird Omen.

A Place I Want To Know starts things off, immediately the growly tone of Rollercoaster’s sax infesting ears and appetite from within cavernous surroundings. Swiftly the nagging beats of Pablo eagerly pester as too the predacious jangle of guitar from which a delicious melodic siren rises. The beauty of the track is sublime, its welcome harassment irresistible and fiery nature thrillingly rapacious; the outstanding opener a mix of raw aural tocsin magnificence and similarly alluring vocal persuasion.

The following Wild Honey makes just as much of a teasing and tempting start, beats a trigger to sonic hunger and the quickly blasting flames of addiction brewing sax. Whether returning to the Weird Omen sound or making Surrealistic Feast an introduction, the husky lure of its voice is unavoidable and persistent manna to these ears but just as powerfully matched as bait by the scything rhythms of Pablo and Ray’s melodically acidic and lustrous infestations as epitomised in the second track. Its rumble is open but controlled, underpinning the virulence swirling above and channelled into a vocal incitement impossible to leave alone.

Celestial heights are ventured once more through Please Kill Me, its prowling flight a sizzling wind of psych fuzz and sinister rock ‘n’ roll. At times it merges gothic psychobilly reminding of The Orson Family and the scorched punk of The Scaners to its compelling body, all the while niggling away at the imagination before Earworm uncages its own feral swing. Echoing the grungy wildness of Escobar in its breath, the track is a cyclone of salacious garage rock as punked up as it is melodically caustic and more than living up to its moniker.

The album’s title track is next, Surrealistic Feast a devious serenade cored by a rhythmic predation which controls the underbelly of mania eager to share its psychosis. The dual vocal incitement of Ray and Pablo circumvents skin effortlessly as beats hold limbs subservient, greed and imagination instantly enthralled and ever lustful through the rasping quirts of sax. The track is pure devilment, demonic sound at its most improper.

The sixties garage rock lined Collection Of Regrets brings its own individual temptations quickly after, its mellow hunting pop catchiness aligned to earthy untamed boisterousness while successor, The Goat, swings in with an old school rock ‘n’ roll and blues nurtured swagger; a hungry strut interrupted by punk brewed ferity from time to time with every corruption leaving greater creative savagery. Both tracks had us bouncing in various states of pleasure as too did the dirt encrusted pop ‘n’ roll of Trouble In My Head, a track resembling something akin to The 13th Floor Elevators immersed in the organic infectiousness of Thee Exciters and the untamed aberrance of The Mummies.

The composed yet twisted stomp of Out Of My Brain had attention locked within seconds of its hypnotic stroll, only gripping tighter as its aggression and mania escalated before leaving album closer, I Will Write You Poetry to pick up the pieces which it does with ease with its trash coated melodic croon.

Weird Omen can pretty much be trusted to constantly provide an unpredictable escape and adventure which arouses, disturbs, and leads the listener to realms of sonic curiosity and inimitable temptation; this time it comes in one glorious escapade going by the name of Surrealistic Feast.

Surrealistic Feast is out now via Dirty Water Records; available @ https://weirdomen.bandcamp.com/album/surrealistic-feast and https://www.dirtywaterrecords.co.uk/shop/#!/Weird-Omen/c/32921273/offset=0&sort=normal

 https://www.facebook.com/weirdomentheband/

Pete RingMaster 28/03/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Dahmers – Down In The Basement

For any sporting or physically demanding endeavour it is advisable to go into some sort of training. With music it is not a requirement that is until you come up against the new album from Swedish rock ‘n’ horror fiends, The Dahmers. The band has just released Down In The Basement, a beast of a record bursting with eighteen tracks of rock ‘n’ roll fever as ferociously energetic as it is virally infectious. From its first heartbeat to its last the bands third full-length is an insatiable incitement keeping the body rigorously and eagerly bouncing.  It is relentless, exhausting, and pure pleasure from start to finish.

Bromölla hailing, the Dahmers has been no strangers to keen attention having released a pair of ear enticing albums in Demons (2015) and In the Dead of Night (2017). Each has shown and evolved a sound which is bred on a patchwork of numerous flavours ranging from garage and classic punk to vintage rock ’n’ roll, sixties pop and garage rock. Each of those releases certainly pleased ears but have now been imply blown out of the crypt by the simply irresistible and irrepressible Down In The Basement.

With a mass of tracks the size Down In The Basement offers you would expect a few fillers here and there but they are conspicuous by their absence; from the opening surge of Blood On My Hands the album a full-on meal of prime cuts. The first track bursts into life on a tide of voice and guitar bred persuasion, straight away twisting and turning like a dervish whilst unleashing a wave of catchy mischief. The vocals of Christoffer Karlsson lead the way in manipulation but more than matched by his and fellow guitarist Josef Underdal’s devious hooks and the rhythmic salaciousness of bassist Tobias Augustsson and drummer Karl-Oskar Hansson. Something akin to The Hives meets Asylums the track simply stomped into ears and the passions setting the album off on a mighty course.

The following Murder Ride is just as reckless and tenacious in its own punk infused charge, sending insistent grooves and rapacious hooks through ears with a fifties rock ‘n’ roll meets seventies punk irreverence before Street Of the Dead brings its garage rock/indie pop boisterous to the already devilish party. More reserved than its predecessors but just as equipped with ripe catchiness, the song had the body fully employed in no time.

Across the classic hard rock tinted antics of Down On My Knees and the corrupted boogie woogie nurtured devilment of The Ripper new flavours and rascality sweeps across Down In The Basement, The Dahmers already revealing their most diverse web of sound which Hit ‘N’ Run exploits for its contagion loaded adrenaline fuelled punk ‘n’ roll romp. All three tracks infested body and spirit with ease, the latter mercilessly before Howling merged the rock ‘n’ roll decades with its nefarious holler for a matching success.

As suggested the album is a perpetual rush of treats which simply continue with the revengeful punk ‘n’ roll of I Spit On Your Grave and the fiendish infestation of Demon Night. Both had the body twisting like a possessed soul, their pop seeded rascality pure manipulation and inescapable corruption in the outstanding second of the pair.

Classic rock gets a nudge within next up Creepiest Creep, another track with hooks and grooves which worm under the skin like invaders into a six foot buried offering while Reoccurring Dreams is just a punk rock scourge of temptation draped with surf molestation. Both make a play for best track honours though already the list is a fair size and only about to grow as Without a Face declares its option through a sixties pop ‘n’ rock spiced saunter abound with rousing vocals and rhythms heated with fiery melodic flames.

The cinematic breath of Kiss of Dario has the imagination as busy as ever, Man Obsessed straight after sparking grinning lips as it flirts with Blondie for its prime hook as it teases an already lustful appetite for the album. Even so both are outshone by the voracious rock ‘n’ roll rascality of No One and a quite glorious cover of the Devo masterpiece, Social Fools. Both tracks show The Dahmers at their most irresistible, the first a prize roar of their untamed imagination and boldness, its successor of their inimitable punk ‘n’ roll enterprise which did not improve on an existing gem but certainly re-energised its might.

The final pair of November with its deceptively calm sixties hued, pop coated calm and dark instrumental The End brings the album to a magnetic close. The last track is another moment of cinematic intimation, an industrial creased piece which replaced a bouncing body with an imagination conjuring suggestiveness to keenly intrigue.

Down In The Basement is a momentous offering from a band due bigger and broader attention; it is not just us saying that but a collection of tracks which demand your soul.

Down In The Basement is out now via Lövely Records across most online stores.

Upcoming Live Dates:

02/11 – Skövde In Rock Fest   Skövde, SWE

03/11 – Halloween Meltdown   Eskilstuna, SWE

04/11 – Kulsturkvarteret   Kristianstad, SWE

15/11 – Cinema   Aalst, BEL*

16/11 – Dusseldorf   Ratinger Hof, GER*

17/11 – Eindhoven   Helldorado, NL*

* Supporting The Dwarves

https://www.facebook.com/Dahmers/

Pete RingMaster 26/10/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Senton Bombs – Outsiders

It is fair to say that any news of something new from UK rockers The Senton Bombs has us licking our lips in anticipation. Four spirit rousing previous albums among just as potent singles and EPs has fuelled that reaction with each encounter building on the exploits of its predecessor and pushing the Blackpool hailing quartet to the mass recognition and attention we with so many feel they deserve. The band’s impending fifth and new album, Outsiders, continues that trend sparking excitement in appetite at the prospect of something special whilst taking the band’s songwriting and sound to another level of prowess and adventure.

Perpetually varied and flavoursome in its styles and character, the band’s rock ‘n’ roll has eagerly evolved and grown up across their albums. With every offering The Senton Bombs has pushed it and themselves to new areas and adventures but all the time reinforcing the recognisable individuality of their music. With Outsiders, the band has aligned their ever ready punk ‘n’ roll instincts with southern and classic rock scented endeavour on the hard rock side of their sound; the result, a rousing and raucous collection of multi-flavoured and variously delivered anthems as familiar to the band as they are unique.

The album erupts into life with its title track, Outsiders entering upon punchy rhythms and sonic stabs as the ever enticing vocals of bassist Joey Class open up their declaration. With attitude and defiance at its core in sound and word, the track prowls with a swinging hard rock swagger lit by the flames and enterprise of guitarists Damien Kage and Johnny Gibbons. The throaty throb of Class’ bass resonates throughout, adding a darker threat to it all as the bold swings of drummer Scott Mason descend. It is a controlled but dynamic start to the release, an ear and attention grabbing statement of intent swiftly backed and built upon.

The band’s new single, Who We Are, does both with relish and tenacity straight away. The devilishly earthy stroll of the bass instantly had imagination and appetite hooked, its inescapable lure aligned to the perpetually lively dynamics of Mason’s rhythms. Both continue to arouse and manipulate as guitars and vocals join the song’s incendiary holler; a union brewing a delicious slab of punk ‘n’ roll as virulently catchy as it is rapaciously invasive.

From one major highlight of the release to another as Violet Black follows unleashing its own rock ‘n’ roll trespass. With each album Class has developed his vocal presence, almost developing a two sided proposition. Here he returns to the grainy delivery which partly trademarked the band’s sound from day one and is always a welcome essence to their creative diversity. The track itself is a boisterous slice of punk rock with a blues rock lining and hard rock virility.

If the previous track is headstrong, I Am Ablaze is an insatiable hell-raiser of sound and rowdiness; an anthem epitomising the band’s live sound as much as its rebel rousing heart. Raw and feral yet skilfully woven to create a hellacious roar the track is superb; The Senton Bombs at their rabidly infectious best leaving next up Reckless Youth a tall order to match. That it does though by revelling in the calmer side of the band’s attack, growing from a melodic shimmer into a contagious stroll led by the inspiring swings of Mason. Reflecting on times past as youths into the seeds of the band stirring things up today, the song is a bold smoulder compared to the fires that are its companions but just as magnetic and riveting

Across the irresistible country blues rock scented saunter and vivacious swing of Bury The Hatchet and the mellow southern surf kissed croon of Remind Me Of The Moon, the album simply blossoms in its variety of sound and imagination while Dead Revolution immediately had body and spirit addicted to its Misfits laced  darkly hued rock ‘n’ roll. As ever hooks escape the band with instinctive agility, riffs and rhythms offering their own spiky bait to get hung up on as vocals lead the way. Similarly the individual craft of Kage and Gibbons masterfully gets under the skin alongside the equally devious antics of Mason and Class’ bass.

Video is a track which would fit as perfectly within the confines of previous encounters such as Chapter Zero and Mass Vendetta; a trademark rather than formula Senton Bombs song easy to devour greedily before Under Offer hits the spot dead centre with its fifties scented modern punk infused rock ‘n’ roll. Reminding of another band deserving mass attention in Canadian outfit The Black Frame Spectacle, the track is a stomping viral temptation.

Wake The Maker brings the album to a close with its classic/hard rock melody shaped howl and though it did not personally excite as those before it, the song is a richly satisfying conclusion to an album which we can only suggest is the finest offering from The Senton Bombs yet.

Global attention is long overdue for the band we strongly suggest but maybe about to be seriously poked by Outsiders, a release and title which sums up the band’s sound and presence within rock ‘n’ roll and the individuality which will always make them stand out and excite.

Outsiders is released November 5th via Regolith Records.

https://www.sentonbombs.com/   https://www.facebook.com/thesentonbombs   https://twitter.com/thesentonbombs

Pete RingMaster 16/10/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Rolled Up Sleeves – Pointless

Pointless is the debut EP from Danish outfit Rolled Up Sleeves and is being recommended to fans of bands such as The Strokes and Arctic Monkeys. Whilst you can understand the comparison to some degree it does cover the real to the imitable breath and individual prowess of the quartet’s sound. Creating rock ‘n’ roll bred on the instincts of punk, garage, and more old school rock, the band unleashes a rousing roar which certainly within Pointless is eagerly contagious.

Hailing from Århus, Rolled Up Sleeves is a young band in presence and individual ages consisting of Christian Askehave, Magnus Krag Nielsen, Oliver Alexander Landgren, and Søren Schroll Rasmussen. Apparently they have been kicking up some real attention in their homeland and it is easy to hear why through their new four track release. Receiving its international release through Mighty Music, Pointless immediately gets down to business with opener Happy And Alone. Straight away beats rap at the senses, stabs of guitar swiftly joining their baiting presence with spicy grooves in close quarter. Once hitting its infectious stride, the track stomps along with attitude in vocals and swagger as hooks work their devious intent. It has a bit of an old friend feel to its character but the song is as fresh as anything heard this year and all addictive contagion to our ears with a bit of a Escobar meets The Senton Bombs scent added pleasure.

The rousing start is only continued by next up Junkie In Disguise. Its opening lure, a single seductive guitar invitation ensures intrigue was rife, the subsequent burst of sound feeding that interest whilst sparking greater urgency in track and reaction. Of all four songs, the second is easiest to recognise those earlier mentioned references within but again individuality is soon riding high amongst its boisterous rock ‘n’ roll. Bold and tenacious with a great raw edge to its sonic and melodic enterprise, the track equally hit the spot before Sell My Soul revels in the band’s calmer side. From vocals to melodic shimmer, the song is sheer temptation; sultry and suggestive at every turn with a low key but inescapable catchiness in its presence and somnambulistic sway.  Yet there is a fire in its belly which catches flame from time to time, heat which gives even greater temptation to song and ears.

The EP’s title track closes the encounter up, Pointless a muscular attitude loaded offering alive with tenacious grooves and invasive hooks amongst biting beats. The dirty grumble of the bass is just as enticing as the lustily roaring vocals; a combined web of enterprise creating one rousing roar ending one thickly satisfying release.

It might be fair to say that Rolled Up Sleeves have yet to breed major uniqueness in their sound but again we can only say that it is as fresh and exciting as anything around right now; Pointless the proof.

The Pointless EP is out now via Mighty Music.

https://www.facebook.com/RolledUpSleevesMusic/

Pete RingMaster 22/09/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Primals – All Love Is True Love

The outcome of a collision between the raw essences of crust lined garage punk and pop infused grunge accosted by noise baiting metal, All Love Is True Love is the fierce new album from LA based rockers The Primals. Though it bears hungry ferocity it is equally as infectious and catchy as it is invasive; it all making for one of the year’s most irresistible debuts.

The Primals is a trio made up of Darkest Hour vocalist/guitarist John Henry, former Dead To Fall member in bassist Chad Fjerstad, and drummer Andrew Black who previously was part of The Explosion, and Title Tracks. Exploits within those outfits has meant anticipation once The Primals’ first release was announced has been keen among a great many and we can say that though there have been a fair few introductions this year which have simply ignited attention and excitement with plaudits in close quarter, All Love Is True Love is ahead of most of the field.

Produced by John Reis (Rocket From The Crypt, Drive Like Jehu, Hot Snakes), All Love Is True Love immediately descends on ears with Hello Cruel World. Instantly a guitar gnaws on the senses, in turn triggering a caustic wave of noise as contagious as it is a visceral trespass. Even in its carnal insurgence there is an instant catchiness of pop sensibility which surges through the confrontation, vocals riding that temptation with a melodic snarl. Similarly soliciting is the predacious quality the band’s sound carries, one which permeates the whole album to compelling effect.

It is an outstanding rousing start as potently backed by the relatively gentler antics of Dead Predators. A web of noise fuelled clamour, earthy bass led swing, and sonic enterprise, the track quickly beguiles and tempts hips and imagination into an animated collusion before Another World To Call Your Own launches its own untamed will upon the listener. Across the three tracks alone there is no escaping a strong whiff of bands such as Nirvana and The Pixies, a breeze teasing throughout the release yet already there is a distinct character and presence which is all Primals as epitomised by their latest single which is next up.

Pity City saunters in on a rhythmic swing; flames of guitar crossing its lure as the melodic calm of vocals add infectious charm. The track simply becomes an insistent radiance spilling invitation where contrasting textures unite in imagination; a pop song in its rawest most accessible state before Fortune & Sons shares its punk ‘n’ roll animation with rapacious relish. It too has an inherent infectiousness which borders the viral and an equally belligerent breath which growls discontent as easily as it brews seduction.

Next up The Wayward Impaler is untamed pop rock which similarly melodically tempts as it shares sonic agitation while It’s Personal saunters in straight after with a heavy drawl and shadowed intentions before unveiling its own pop natured virulence within those persistent trespasses. Both tracks swiftly get under the skin, the latter especially laying a mighty hand on best track honours before Together Whatever has its say with its Sonics-esque, old school punk holler. Rhythms stomp and guitars abrase as the track incited body and the passion, another slice of quick addiction with a potent claim on the top dog title.

The album concludes with firstly the slow crawl of Save Me, Baby; a plaintively melancholic croon with rhythmic tempestuousness and lively pop rock animation, and through the rousing grunge punk ferocity of I’m Coming Home. The final track is pure threat and seduction, each in equal measure invading the senses in a “we are united, love you all and fuck the world” like declaration.

It is a stirring and tremendous finale to an album which has all the elements and deeds to re-invigorate already hungry or alternatively any stale appetites for rock music. It is a gem, simple as.

All Love Is True Love is out now via Southern Lord and available @ https://theprimalssl.bandcamp.com/releases

https://www.facebook.com/ThePrimalsLA

Pete RingMaster 24/09/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright