Fuzzy Vox – Ba-Da-Boom

With one of our favourite escapades last year being the No Landing Plan album from French rockers Fuzzy Vox you can be sure that news of its successor got us rather excited, a lusty reaction which only got more exuberant upon hearing its quartet of boisterous escapades. Ba-Da-Boom is a romp of the band’s feverish rock ‘n’ roll taken to a new pasture of imagination and fun, the year between releases seeing an evolution in sound and flavours, confirming the band as one exciting and creatively excitable proposition.

With new drummer Jeremy Norris alongside vocalist/guitarist Hugo Fabbri and drummer Nico Maïa, Joinville le Pont hailing Fuzzy Vox are continuing to stir up attention with their rousing, mischievous sound through Ba-Da-Boom. It is a success first poked with debut EP Technicolor in 2012 and accelerated by the band’s first album, On Heat two years later and subsequently reaching a peak through its successor No Landing Plan. Now their fusion of garage rock, power pop and instinctive rock ‘n’ roll is ready to spark another burst of acclaim and revelry through Ba-Da-Boom and as it stomps around in ears it is hard to see anything getting in its way.

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.

A potency swiftly matched and pushed further by the pop ‘n’ roll fuelled Eyes On You. Again beats thump as they tempt with chords and riffs alongside, all colluding in almost salacious incitement as vocals command the tenacity of it all. With a great punk boisterousness to its stomp and psych rock tendencies in its melodic explorations, the song is superb, reason alone to check out the EP.

Cold Justice follows and quickly shares more of the new broader flavoured sound of the band. Sixties pop and seventies power pop fused with pub rock shenanigans, the song swaggers along with mischief in its antics and charm in its melodic glaze. It is a truly magnetic affair becoming more physically involving by the minute and thickly compelling by the listen.

The EP ends with I Want Drums, a ‘showcase’, if any further proof was needed to his prowess, of Norris’ rhythmic dexterity. His skittish beats come with poise and a rousing agility which is equally matched in the revelry of his companions in voice and sound. With sixties garage rock again fuelling the fire, the track is like an illegitimate offspring from a union between The Monks and Jon Spencer Blues Explosion but bred on its own imaginative mischief.

It is an outstanding end to another delicious endeavour with Fuzzy Vox, a release which may not eclipse that brilliant last album but stands right by its side whilst revealing a fresh new venture in the hunger of the band’s insatiable sound.

Ba-Da-Boom is out now and available @ https://fuzzyvox.bandcamp.com/album/ba-da-boom-2

http://fuzzyvox.com/     https://www.facebook.com/fuzzyvox    https://twitter.com/fuzzyvox

Pete RingMaster 05/12/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Wild Evel and the Trashbones – Digging My Grave

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Pete RingMaster 29/11/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Royal Podencos – Broken Bones

Released earlier this year, Broken Bones is an album well worth taking a close listen too especially if you have an appetite for boisterous garage rock. The second album from Spanish quartet Royal Podencos, it offers much more than that garage rock tag, the Santander outfit creating their sound with a  just as rich flavouring of punk, blues rock, and power pop for a proposition as fresh as it is enjoyably nostalgic.

The successor to 2014 debut What´s your plan, the eleven song strong Broken Bones needs little time to get the body bouncing and an appetite for the band’s rock ‘n’ roll brewing with opener Sexuality. The foursome of Jonny, Jota, Toni, and Hans instantly tease with a rockabilly riff, its lure aligned to a rousing hook and melodic devilry as rhythms dance invitingly in the ears. With great distinctive vocals riding its mischievous almost salacious antics, the song swiftly springs its inescapable trap to inspire the body and imagination to be as lively as its own escapade.

It is a rousing start to proceedings which is never outshone within Broken Bones but certainly rivalled like by its successor Break us down. Its own swinging flirtation and gait brings a more sixties flavoured adventure but one quickly revealing its seventies punk instincts as vocals and hooks unveil their infectious intent. As the first song it is a highly catchy and addictive proposal, a slice of pop infused punk ‘n’ roll to get the hips and spirit dancing; their energies given no respite by the following more bluesy rock ‘n’ roll of The dog you found. With a Tom Petty-esque scent and drawl to its stroll it too casts a contagious sixties power pop jangle with a truly virulent hook to grab ears and attention alike.

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.

A little creep has the inner bounce leaping again as it shares its pop rock contagion next, eager rhythms injecting its already enticing bait with moments of anthemic tenacity as riffs scythe across their swings before What´s wrong with you has thoughts going back to bands like Eddie and The Hot Rods, The Motors, and Tonight with its hepped up and highly enjoyable antics.

The discord lined canter of On and on hits the spot within seconds next, its punk nature and off-kilter harmony inescapable temptation against which Let me shake puts up its own blues laced raw pop ‘n’ roll to matching persuasive success. As with most tracks within the album, each has an instinctive knack in setting traps and hooks which are impossible to evade or ignore resulting in another very agreeable rock ‘n’ roll workout.

The closing pair of You got a home and Tell me why are no different even without quite hooking up with the passions as naturally as others within Broken Bones. Nevertheless, their respective individual moments of garage pop punk and classic blues rock leave pleasure high and the album impressing right up to its last breath.

While sensing something even more unique is lurking, just waiting to break out in the Royal Podencos sound, Broken Bones consistently hits the spot with moments of lustful pleasure on top. If you are looking for some new varied rock ‘n’ roll to get dancing too then Broken Bones is well worth tangling with.

Broken Bones is available now @ https://royalpodencos.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/royalpodencos/

Pete RingMaster 21/11/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pete RingMaster 07/11/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Escobar – The Biggest Sound

Whether you wish to call the Escobar sound grunge, punk, garage rock or something else, all flavours involved in its riotous tapestry, there is no escaping that it is one glorious rock ‘n’ roll cacophony. The irrefutable proof is to be found in the French duo’s new album The Biggest Sound, a nostril flared stomp more than living up to its container’s moniker.

Hailing from Limoges, Escobar was formed in 2014 by vocalist/guitarist Remi Lucas (Weird Omen, The Anomalys) and drummer Charly “Kayo” Cailleaud (The Bushmen, Daria). With the release of debut album エスコバルin 2015 and its successor Bird Of Prey the following year, the band was met with widespread acclaim which is sure to escalate through the rousing antics of The Biggest Sound. Such its addictive melodic hook laden clamour, it is easy to expect the album to thrust Escobar into the biggest spotlights as eureka moments go off in new ears to spark a fresh tsunami of lusty attention.

It is impossible to truly pin down the Escobar sound though a fusion of The White Stripes, Nirvana, and In The Whale gives a good starting point. As opener Terrible Man alone shows, the pair create a sound distinct and unique to itself and a temptation which swiftly and greedily infests body and imagination. The first song launches at the listener with urgent riffs, their infectious coaxing the prelude to a surge of flirtatious guitar clang and rhythmic incitement. It all settles into a vivacious garage rock stroll with a Latin-esque temperament as Lucas’ magnetic voice and guitar bounce upon the rhythmic web spun by Cailleaud. As virulent for the senses as it is increasingly concussive, the track simply seduces ears and appetite whilst getting the album off to a stunning start.

That success only builds as the insatiable punk ‘n’ roll of Misbehavior devours ears, again the two protagonists creating a noise clad contagion which sparks body and spirit. As with those around it, the song makes physical involvement a given in its swift but unquenchably boisterous escapade; a perpetual trait across The Biggest Sound in evidence again within Stuck On You. Carrying a power pop infection to its earthy rock ‘n’ roll, the track maybe leaps around with less intensity than its predecessor but with equal adventure as grunge instincts fuel the guitar. It is easy to hear Nirvana bred inspirations at play within the song but equally there are moments which seem nurtured by a fondness of bands such as Rocket From The Crypt and The Vaccines as it lays down another peak in the increasingly mountainous landscape of the album.

There is no time to relax as the outstanding Paradise rampages through ears with its Powersolo meets The Dirtbombs scented bedlam and Salvation teases and tempts with its raw and boisterous rock ‘n’ roll. The first offers a great if undemanding line in melodic dexterity within its noisy canter while its successor melds pop catchiness with scorched noise in its contagious swing and both simply up the ante in a release already fixing its permanent position in the passions.

The album’s title track steps up next bringing its own voracious infection to ears and psyche. The Biggest Sound is as much a declaration of the album’s roar as its own controlled and eager suggestion for hips and vocal chords; an invitation just a little dirty and a whole lot irresistible before Big Town bounds in with a swagger soaked in sonic dexterity to drag the energies into lustful compliance all over again. Compared to some, it too has a rein on its attack, saving it for the grunge bred eruptions which urge greater zeal from song and listener alike.

The psych rock kissed minimalism of Brain Out simply seduces and manipulates straight after; Lucas in guitar and voice a puppeteer as the song sculpts pop rock in its purest form. Slim and forcibly low key its glory is matched by the contrasting creative howl of Changeover. To be fair, the song too has a fine twist in infectious restraint and inventive enterprise but still escalates into a fiery roar which sears as it seduces. Both tracks hit the spot like a rock ‘n’ roll cupid though each is slightly outshone by the throbbing saunter of Stranger In Blood. As across the whole album, Cailleaud creates a rhythmic enticement which lures eager participation and rock ‘n’ roll instincts like a siren. His net is then entangled in the sonic machination of Lucas; the pair combining to beguile and incite without reservation.

The album concludes with the sonic commotion of Dumb Feelings, a slice of voracious punk rock with a whiff of Iggy Pop and the psychosis of Melvins in its seriously catchy riot and finally the irresistibly nagging of Drifting. The song is majestic, its jagged body of riffs and harmonic flirtation a show stealer as it slips through a celestial climate which haunts the senses. A final twist in the creative adventure of the album, the track sublimely and inescapably leaves a longing for more which that play button instantly satisfies.

There is always something new to explore to take us away from even the best records, fresh encounters to assess, but there are a few which make it very difficult to move on from without just one more union, and another….. The Biggest Sound is one of those; a joy which still resurfaces to bring our day to an invigorating conclusion and that is maybe reason enough for all to go explore.

The Biggest Sound is out now through Dirty Water Records (USA), Adrenalin Fix Music, Beast Records, and Strychnine Production and available @  https://escobartheband.bandcamp.com/album/the-biggest-sound

https://www.facebook.com/escobarbandpage

Pete RingMaster 31/10/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Oh! Gunquit – Lightning Likes Me

This is your one time warning; prepare for your lungs to burst and veins to pop not forgetting hips to feverishly swing, rumble bop freakabillys Oh! Gunquit are back in town to tease and incite with a new album. The London based outfit left bodies sweaty, exhausted, and lustful with their first album Eat Yuppies and Dance back in 2015 but be warned it will all have felt like a warm up compared to the devilish antics Lightning Likes Me will have you getting up to.

Hints of things to come were alive in the band’s recent single Nomads Of The Lost, a track which suggested that the quintet had found wilder and even more salacious essences in their songwriting and sound; something Lightning Likes Me quickly and increasingly confirms song after song. It should be of no surprise really, since emerging in 2010/11 from the creative union of vocalist/trumpeter Tina Swasey and guitarist/vocalist Simon Wild, the band has only raised the ante and revelry of their psych-surf/garage-punk infused rock ‘n’ roll. With its members in bassist VV, drummer Alex De Renzi and newest member Chuchi Malpersona on sax alongside Swasey and Wild hailing from Italy, USA, Colombia, Spain, and the UK, there is a cosmopolitan fever to their music which in turn encourages its trickery to new heights, a plateau now set very high within Lightning Likes Me.

As soon as the fiery guitar strokes of opener So Long Sucker finger ears, the album is up and running, toning and driving the body like a puppeteer. Brass and rhythms are soon blazing and stomping across the infectious proposal, Swasey’s enthusiasm soaked vocals equally as persuasive while clad in defiance and carnal incitement. The track continues to twist and bounce like a rock ‘n’ roll dervish, every second getting under the skin and into the bones.

It is a tremendous start instantly backed up by the rhythmically tenacious antics of Get Wound Up. As De Renzi’s swings land with boisterous dexterity, sax and trumpet blaze away with suggestion and heat with Swasey all the while leaping across every strand of temptation with vocal agility. It is a song which dares you to get physically involved note by note, an invitation impossible to refuse in limb and energy before both are consumed all over again by the outstanding Nomads Of The Lost. With a swagger in its hips and confidence, the song saunters in with flirtatious infectiousness oozing from every note and syllable. Taunting riffs and sax teasing leads the way as vocals again ride the canter with their own irresistible persuasion, group calls another subsequent tempting impossible not to join as the chorus infests. Not for the last time, there are hints of bands like The Revillos and The Creeping Ivies to the devilry; bewitching essences in a captivation all of the Oh! Gunquit making.

Fireballs boogies in ears next with its garage rock psyche pop, its crescendo building surges a deceptive pleasure as they never erupt into a full-on blaze, just into the next cycle of irrepressible teasing for its own heat soaked orgasmic pleasure while Never Sorry plunders the decades for its psyche infesting rock ‘n’ roll, flirting with the inspirations of artists like the 5678’s and April March along the way. Both tracks are sheer addiction in the making though that equally applies to the whole of the album including the thicker boned Suzy Don’t Stop. The rhythmic bullying is raw feet temptation whilst the fire borne strains of guitar and brass are delicious toxins in the virulence of song and vocal exhortation.

The garage punk ‘n’ roll voodoo of Smiling Snake is a fifties bred, freshly re-animated thrill; a Wanda Jackson and Imelda May blended suggestion bound in the stringed imagination of Poison Ivy and quite irresistible though just as attention and lust is quickly stolen by it from its predecessor it is then lost to Walking The Streets which too has more than a rich spicing of The Cramps to its personality. Its creative stroll is manna to the passions and an unforgiving consumption of the hips, leading them to delirium soaked exhaustion. The track simply takes over body and spirit and take it from us just gets more potent and masterful with every groove woven outing.

Next up is Greasy Moves which, without credit on its press release or in any additional digital information sought so far, features guest vocals from someone which sounds inimitably like King Salami. The initial stomp of guitar and brass with rhythms swinging turns into a sweltering stroll of salacious suggestion, a primal dance which again has the ears and body locked into its blue kissed flirtation with no sign of resistance.

Finishing off the album with its own infernal devouring is Captain Of the Creeps; an incessant nagging of senses and limbs woven into a tapestry of iniquitous imagination and enterprise. It pretty much sums up all the attributes found across the whole of the unique rock ‘n’ roll contagion that is Lightning Likes Me, adding a few more of its own as the album leaves in rousing style though not for long as the urge to start the merciless party off again is king.

Last time around Oh! Gunquit gave us one of the best outings of the year this time it just might be the very best; there are few contenders to rival it for sure.

Lightning Likes Me is out now via Decapitator and Dirty Water Records https://ohgunquit.bandcamp.com/album/lightning-likes-me-lp-cd

https://www.facebook.com/ohgunquit/

Pete RingMaster 26/09/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Likkor Men – There Will Be Blood

There is something primal stirring in the depths of the UK rock scene, a lascivious force brewing up filthy attitude stained rock ‘n’ roll which is salacious and destructive, rabid and addictive and it goes by the name of The Likkor Men. The quartet from Redcar has just released new EP There Will Be Blood, a carnal beast of a release infesting the psyche as sonically it tries to live up to its declaration, and a fear breeding proposition it is truly hard to get enough of.

Formed in 2014 supposedly to “keep the members out of trouble”, The Likkor Men create a ravenous sound which is hard to pin down but openly corrupts everything from blues, garage, and punk rock to industrial, noise, and psychedelia. Most likely an introduction of the band to a great many, There Will Be Blood is their second EP but easy to feel the moment The Likkor Men asylum comes under true scrutiny.

The release instantly has the senses challenged with the outstanding Black Widow, noise and samples colluding to tenderise before heavy footed riffs stroll hungrily in as swinging beats bite. Blues grooves entangle the trespass as vocals prowl, a punk throated backing adding to the pleasure as the controlled chaos twists and turns. There is something of The Birthday Party meets Th’ Legendary Shack Shakers as Down fingers the union about the infestation but equally more than a whiff of bands like The Sonics and MC5 in the swamp of sound and dirt though what emerges is a scuzz storm all Likkor Men.

The opener remains the pinnacle of the release but is seriously harassed throughout with next up Young Blood needing little time to seduce and pervert ears and imagination. Ravishing the senses like a defiled fusion of Rob Zombie, Arthur Brown, and The Stooges, the track is wired rock ‘n’ roll as off-kilter as it is skilfully woven to invade and trespass the psyche. Deceptively catchy it is aural loco, a ruinous psych rock invasion infecting the listener like radiation.

Crazed easily applies to Sweet Talkin’ Mamma too, a sexual corruption built on the most addictive rhythmic strolls as fuzzy flames and toxic grooves like spewed by the pied piper like trespass. It is sonic bedlam, an insatiable lure of noise and rhythmic flirtation which maybe is a touch over long but teases and seduces from its depraved start to its libertine finish.

That sexual edge is taken to greater tension within closing song, Hunter. It is a nagging throb of rhythms and heavy riffs beneath sonic breezes of guitar. From the midst, gravel throated vocals, as throughout the EP, stir up the dirty business around them, grooves and hooks seeming to react decadently around them though everything is in its basest most single minded form to simply incite the listener’s rock ‘n’ roll instincts. Sixties garage rock is a rich fuel to the final assault, its contaminated strains sweet liquor within the soiled goodness.

There Will Be Blood will not be for the clean cut appetites among you but for those with wanton urges for rock ‘n’ roll in its grubbiest invigorating form no-one will be left wanting, only feeling very, very dirty.

There Will Be Blood is out now through Moon Skull Records @ https://moonskull.bandcamp.com/album/there-will-be-blood

https://www.facebook.com/TheLikkorMen/

Pete RingMaster 15/09/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright