Eureka California – Roadrunners

With their 2016 album Versus one of our favourite encounters in recent times, there is always certain anticipation here when the name Eureka California crops up. What that album maybe lacked in uniqueness it more than made up in imagination and individual enterprise. Now its successor Roadrunners has arrived to explore real originality in sound whilst accentuating the band’s instinctive rock ‘n’ roll clamour and rumble amidst fresh intricacy of invention.

Consisting of the vocal and jangling sonic rapacity of Jake Ward and the rhythmic manipulation of Marie A. Uhler, Eureka California has become one of rock’s keenly embraced propositions over the decade and a year since first emerging from Athens, Georgia. Across their three previous albums, the duo’s garage rock/pop has evolved with their craft and experiences. Last year saw the release of the Wigwam EP, a proposal which blended a new rawness with the punk like aggression of Versus. It also suggested a greater subtlety and technicality to their writing and sound which has now been given its head within Roadrunners. That raw edge of the EP is less pronounced but still an ear grabbing texture in the band’s new release. It all makes for a proposition which maybe took longer to take to, compared to its predecessor, as its layers were explored but emerged as Eureka California’s finest moment yet.

Fourteen songs rich, Roadrunners begins with MKUltra and instantly a cloud of inviting jangle surrounds ears as rhythms build their own potent tempting. Once hitting its calm but clamorous stride, the vocals of Ward erupt with matching appetite and dexterity to the sounds around them. Like a garage bred dissonance fuelled Beach Boys, the track dances in ears to give the release an immediate high point.

The following Perfect Grammar is similarly bred and woven but with a raw angst and air which sears the senses as it seduces them. Uhler’s beats inspire a simultaneous swing to the track which has feet dancing to its mix of the wild and composed before Threads steps forward to forge a new high within Roadrunners. From its opening hook to its swiftly advancing rhythmic flirtation, the track had us licking lips and keenly bouncing. There is a great seventies DIY indie punk lining to the track recalling the likes of Television Personalities and ‘O’ Level, which surrounds an indie pop holler forged with hooks and beats which with its portentous heart just infested instincts and imagination.

It is followed by the calmer melodic seducing of Time After Time After Time After Time. It too has an immediate and organic infectiousness which worms into the psyche before its more feral side rises up in tenacious rock ‘n roll. There is a hint of The Monochrome Set to the song at times as it matches its predecessor’s triumph, both in turn equalled by the rousing antics and rhythmic dynamics of Over It. The trio all vie for best track honours, together providing the album’s pinnacle point.

I Can’t Look In Yr Direction is next, its sonic angst matched in lyrical reflection as its mellower contemplative complaints flare up amidst searing aural flames while Howard Hughes at the Sands is an acoustic saunter with caustic eruptions. Both tracks intrigued as they captivated, neither quite emulating the glory of those before but only adding to the album’s thick lure; bait only accentuated by the short but rich rock ‘n’ roll of following instrumental Buffalo Bills 1990 – 1993.

Through the excellent post punk wired JJT and the unpredictable poppier escapade of SWDs, Eureka California continue to unfold the new invention in their writing and music. The latter is a glorious slice of hook woven pop ‘n’ roll with a Pixies tint while next up Gila Monster just seduces attention second by second from its initial guitar scratching to its summery discord. Its swing and jangle is like hay fever, persistently nagging away but in contrast only pleasurable before in turn Telephone Tone shares its own infectious warm canter with zeal lined calm.

Concluding with the masterfully flirtatious and simultaneously fiery How Long Has This Been Going On? and the Frank Black meets Pere Ubu flavoured Mexican Coke, the continuously appetising Roadrunners swarms ears with its sound and imagination. It is easily the band’s most inventive and individual proposition to date and in turn their most compelling and enjoyable; simply one of the must check out highlights of 2018.

Roadrunners is out now digitally and on CD and Ltd Edition vinyl via Happy Happy Birthday to Me Records (HHBTM); available @https://eurekacalifornia.bandcamp.com/album/roadrunners and @ http://hhbtm.com/item.php?item_id=652

http://eurekacaliforniaband.com/     https://www.facebook.com/eurekacalifornia     https://twitter.com/eurekacalifone

Pete RingMaster 26/06/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Quantum Leap – No Reason

Creating a tantalising yet portentous fusion of post punk and garage rock, Swedish trio Quantum Leap make their major entrance with a debut album which through its dark climes and apocalyptic tones makes for one hungrily infectious and enthralling proposition. No Reason, in the words of its introduction, “invites you to a heavy and dark feast celebrating the very last setting of the sun”, a beckoning as arousing as it is threatening.

Hailing from Uppsala, Quantum Leap consists of vocalist/guitarist/keyboardist Björn Norberg, bassist Andreas Hennius, and drummer Mats Gustavsson. With a diversity of musical backgrounds taking in thrash, death and black metal, electronica and pop, the three came together in 2014. A demo was released in 2016 after the band linked up with producer Tomas Skogsberg of legendary Sunlight Studios (Entomed, Refused, Backyard Babies, Dismember). That led to a contract with Swedish label Viskningar och Vrål (Whisperings and Growls), who now release the fiercely magnetic No Reason, the release again seeing the trio working with Skogsberg and featuring guest musicians in Lea Martinelle (saxophone), Rosa Kristalova (cello), Mattis Fredriksson (accordion), Daniel Söderberg (on modular synthesizer), and Janet Simmonds (backing vocals).

It opens up with That’s The Reason, a swiftly compelling trespass of post punk bringing an initial menace of sound before rumbling through ears on a rhythmically driven stroll wrapped in sonic dissonance. Norberg’s vocals, as strong and magnetic as the web of sounds around them, are soon accentuating the lure. It is a dark, suffocating, and invasively heavy confrontation but inescapably contagious with echoes of eighties bands such as Joy Division, Play Dead, and Leitmotiv to its rasping winds.

It is an outstanding start which swiftly aroused a keen appetite for things to come; one soon reinforced by the following In Between Worlds. It too springs from a raw sonic misting into a virulent attack, its swing eating at instincts and psyche with viral tenacity whilst spreading another exploration of stark, ravenous times. There is more of a noise infested rock ‘n’ roll attack to its post punk, bass and drums a rapacious incitement upon which guitars and keys spread a toxic glaze while escalating the infectious and fractious catchiness of the song.

With an even darker climate Blind comes next, the track a calmer but equally emotionally and atmospherically invasive proposal. It offers a more art/alternative rock spicing with not for the last time within the album a Bowie-esque hue which only adds to its persuasion before Yeah sees the band embrace a metal lined garage rock flavouring with matching success. The diversity within the band’s sound is in full swing at this point, each song revealing a new shade and flavouring to keep things unpredictable and intriguing. Trust quickly backs this variety up with its seventies psych toned dark rock. Though all uniquely different, the quintet of tracks so far all slip perfectly alongside each other, the alluring overall Quantum Leap voice uniting their eclectic characters.

The Fiction In The Daily Life bounds in with a mix of garage punk and heavy rock straight after; the excellent track swiftly stirring up attention and pleasure while Sea repeats that tempting straight after with its again Bowie reminding saunter. There is a definite Heroes like feel to the track which maybe does not lead it to impress as some of its companions within the album but only richly pleases within its fuzzy climate.

Through the bruising and hungrily rousing rock ‘n’ roll of All I Ever Wanted and the Bauhaus meets Wire like gothic/post punk air of I Don’t Know attention and enjoyment only escalated, both tracks unsettling magnetism while Dreaming taps a poppier gait to its darky lit romancing to equally attract. A bit like a blend of Modern English and Modern Eon with once more that hint of Bowie, the song entices from start to finish.

The album concludes with firstly the groove wired heavy punk ‘n’ roll of Mayday and lastly the senses consuming, imagination sparking sonic tides of Like A Memory From A Long Time Ago. With a melodic Skids like current ebbing and flowing in its infectiously sinister but thickly alluring ominous waters, it is a last entrapment for the suggestively impending apocalypse and another sepulchral proposal which is quite irresistible.

Quantum Leap have uncaged a debut which simply demands attention of the band and their dark foreboding layered sound…so stop reading and go explore.

No Reason is out now through Viskningar och vrål.

https://www.facebook.com/quantumleap2/

Pete RingMaster 06/06/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Gogo Loco – The GoGo Loco Twist EP

First the bad news, The Mobbs are no more. The UK band released some of the real treats we have had the pleasure to cover on the site and will be sorely missed. As with all things though there is a silver lining, in this case a trashy garage rock ‘n’ roll one as from the ashes of one great band rises another in the shape of Gogo Loco. Learning of one outfit’s demise through an email from drummer Cheadle and the introduction of another in his new project alongside fellow Mobb, vocalist/guitarist Joe B. Humbled, quick sadness was replaced by eager intrigue across a handful of lines; interest soon emerging as fresh lustful attention once the swinging throes of The GoGo Loco Twist EP infested ears.

Now reinventing their names as Cheadle GoGo and Joe Loco, the Northampton hailing duo have similarly evolved their sound. Certainly within the four songs making up their debut release there is a healthy Mobbs garage punk scent to things but one immersed in a new r&b and blues infused trash encrusted garage rock ‘n’ roll devilry. Something akin to a fusion of The Stargazers, Ronnie Cook & The Gaylads, and The Trashmen with that inimitable Mobbs touch, Gogo Loco provide something as distinct and as unique as you would wish.

It all begins with the EP’s title track. The GoGo Loco Twist needs mere seconds to have the body writhing and feet greedily shifting, its initial tendril of guitar winding around ears and burrowing under the skin before the swinging rhythms of Cheadle and the guest piano antics of Jon Martin, who also produced the EP, get involved. Like King Salami and The Cumberland 3 engulfed in the spirit of Chubby Checker after being infested with garage punk mischief, the song romps and stomps from start to finish inspiring the same in the listener. A virus to any rock ‘n’ roll dance floor, it pleasures and exhausts with glee.

There is no time to take a breath as the following Rattle Your Mind leaps on ears and body next, its crusty blues lining and fevered rock ‘n’ roll inescapable incitement driven by the energy and passion of its creators. As all tracks within the release, it is a short, sharp, and magnetic trespass manipulating body and spirit with ease; next up Go Loco proving the pointy as it insists the listener lives up to its title. Clunky yet fluid riffs welcome in infectious rhythms and in turn just as persuasive vocals, a mix again needing less than a handful of seconds to have the body bouncing.  Actually the song never quite bursts into the kind of frenzy its title suggests though its boisterousness increases by the chord but with a control which manages to forcibly increase the virulence in song and victim alike.

The closing Evil Woman is salacious rock ‘n roll with pouting hooks and rhythmic writhing, like a meeting between MFC Chicken and Sonny Burgess as imagined by Gogo Loco and far too easy and tasty to consume to be good for you. Like all tracks within The GoGo Loco Twist, there is a sense of being devilishly naughty and just a little dirty as you thrown yourself into its wonderful DIY temptation of sound and intent, but at the same time the feeling of not caring fuelling the fun.

Long live The Mobbs is a cry we will always offer up but alongside we roar Viva Gogo Loco as the potential of another new lust for us, and we expect a great many others, rises up.

The GoGo Loco Twist EP is out now and available as a free download @ https://gogoloco.bandcamp.com/album/the-gogo-loco-twist

http://www.gogoloco.uk/   https://www.facebook.com/gogolocouk/

Pete RingMaster 24/04/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Nosebleed – Scratching Circles On The Dancefloor

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

Starsha Lee – Post-God Metaphysics

You venture into the dark dusty corners of a previously unexplored attic and within find the predictable, almost dauntingly alluring yet sinister looking dolls house long told tales and visually evocative movies often portray. You peer through its small enticing windows and wonder what goes on within their plastic panes, what adventures play out within the surrounding walls in the darkness. The imagination conjures, thoughts tease…then as their distinct sounds search out both from speakers below, the possibility is obvious; they just might house the unique world of Starsha Lee.

Not that the sound of Starsha Lee is nursery room fit, unless it is those lurking within the distorted lines between reality and nightmares. As in evidence within the band’s debut album, Post-God Metaphysics, it is a rapacious psyche trespassing endeavour spawning songs borne of discontented snarls with characters bred in demon haunted mania. It is also one fiercely addictive treat which may find itself a challenge too far for some but fingered our passions from start to finish within an album that just demands attention.

Though undoubtedly highly individual, the Starsha Lee sound also has a side to it which is akin to a fusion of the rebellious punk rock of In Evil Hour, the noise bred catchiness of Melt Banana, and the mischievous alternative rock of Daisy Chainsaw. The latter is no surprise as they and Starsha Lee are inflamed by the distinct senses scathing, spirit rousing guitar enterprise of Crispin Gray, also formerly of Queen Adreena, and Dogbones. Beside him, the quartet consists of the rhythmic adventure of Lenny Verallis (Dumbjaw/You) and, headed by the vocal devilment and lyrical incitement of Portuguese singer/ visual artist Sofia de Oliveira Martins. Epitomising the uniqueness of the band tenfold, she can best be described as having the vocal prowess of Lene Lovich twisted and distorted through the hands of Jigsaw as the juices of KatieJane Garside (Daisy Chainsaw/Ruby Throat) and Dawn Lintern (Das Fluff) are squeezed into their high pitched results. It all adds up to anarchic beauty in a release which had us drooling with lust rather quickly.

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.

The punk rock throes of People Are Horrible follows, its rhythmic raps and sonic writhing spinning a web of stop go virility entangled with Martin’s vocal rascality. In its far too short a stomp, the song, as all, embraces an array of flavours in one devious recipe, all spicing up ears and an already greedy appetite here for the album’s loco lined exploits.

With the guitar again laying the first line of bait, next up Holy Hatred seduces and feverishly ignites within its opening breaths; growing from a gentle caress into a metal infused blaze of incendiary rock ‘n’ roll with venom in its voice and sounds before Life Is Suicidal shares its own sonic pyre with virulent contagion to its bold vocal blend and bounce. The nihilistic tone of word and heart floods the proposal, another constant menacing allure across the album, and bonds perfectly with the raucous bounce and captivating discord conjured.

Post Modern is an electric scowl, the guitar almost grimacing with acidity as Martin’s skilfully and heartily delivered intimation are again aligned to the harmonic breath of Gray’s backing vocals. Verallis and Zahra-Hall stamp rhythmic authority on the temptation, working on hips and neck muscles as the song serenades with open causticity while within the more hard rock nurtured Used To The Bruise, their rhythmic arousal comes wrapped in melancholic harmonics and emotive suggestion. Both tracks simply captivate with ease, the latter an inescapable lure to participation before Even God Doesn’t Know Your Name ensnares the senses with its addiction sharing punk ‘n’ roll canter. With a Cauldronated like hue to its tenacious body as Martins vocally writhes around, the song matches, at times eclipses, the temptation of its predecessors as another major highlight within the album drew further lust.

Through the scuzzy climes of Sterile Girl and the similarly raw discordance of Uncle Nietzsche, Starsha Lee just increase their grip; the first with a gentle twist and the excellent latter with a tug like one induced within an inflamed sexual endeavour. It stomps through ears with a hunger which veers on the rabid but with a controlled predatory nature matched in the following swagger lined march of Glass Diamonds. Its Marilyn Manson-esque swing underpins a senses scorching flame of sonic toxicity, an aural drug which   bewitches and bewilders with craft and imagination.

Laugh Of God and (I Am) High And Divine bring things to a close, the first a cauldron of punk, metal, and garage rock which scars and seduces by the second, Martins once again a vocal Harley Quinn centre stage. Though not quite living up to other songs, it simply grabbed eager attention but was in turn overshadowed by the closing track’s acerbic croon. A song epitomising every aspect of the Starsha Lee sound if without continuing the line of springing essential hooks on the imagination, it brings Post-God Metaphysics to a glorious conclusion.

It is fair to say that Crispin Gray has been behind and involved in numerous bands which have unerringly hit the spot and instincts of us and a horde of others, but few if any striking dead centre the same way Starsha Lee has with Post-God Metaphysics.

Post-God Metaphysics is out now on digital download, streaming, CD and vinyl via Syndicol Music; available @ https://www.syndicolmusic.com/store

http://starshalee.wixsite.com/starsha-lee    https://www.facebook.com/OFFICIALStarshaLee/

Pete RingMaster 27/03/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Scaners – Self Titled

Create a sonic kaleidoscope made up of particles from The Ramones, Devo, The Dickies, and The Screamers with essences of others such as Brainiac, Useless Eaters, and Acid Baby Jesus and you get the glorious garage synth punk sound fuelling a release which surely will be announced one of the year’s best moments come its annual awards. The cause of such thoughts is the self-titled debut album from French punksters The Scaners which despite those references at the beginning, or because of them, is one unique and quickly addictive incitement of sound and mischief.

Hailing from Lyon, The Scaners proudly and openly embrace their inspirations in their music; influences which from their label, Dirty Water Records, to reviewers and fans are universally recognised within something as individual as you could wish for. A four track 7” hinted at and teased ears with its inimitable antics last year, lures and revelry now in full roar and enterprise within the band’s first full-length.

Recorded with Lo Spider at Swampland in Toulouse, the album sets off on its sci-fi fuelled flight of fun with opener Abduction. Like a dance party in Area 51, the song swings its rhythmic hips to its own sonic infestation of devilry, vocalist Pav Scaner vocally hot-footing across the strands of temptation like a dervish as the keys of his organ dance. Hooks fly as beats bounce, seventies punk flirting with its synth punk/garage rock tenacity as ears and appetite are instantly baited and trapped.

The cosmos wraps the imagination next as Spacecraft lifts off with a punk rumble; bassist Tama Scaner and drummer BX Scaner rousingly fuelling its brief but irresistible surge before I Don’t Want To Go swaggers in on addictive beats and vocal dissonance. Pav’s keys again entice like sonic liquor as his voice wonderfully trespasses the shuffle; a riveting incitement matched and escalated by the spatial theremin gas and raw guitar prowess of Dédé Scaner. As the first, both tracks simply infest the imagination, getting under the skin like an infernal but exciting itch which you want to scratch but never lose.

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.

Darker and heavier textures line the B52’s hued aeronautics of Enjoy Your Flight; a trespassing bounce of a track which masters limbs and spirit like a cosmic puppeteer while No Place In Space steals best track honours with its post punk/garage punk saunter with a healthy essence of The Horrors to its reined but open diablerie. The first single from the album, the band apparently has two versions of the song; this the “slow” shadow accompanied drift through space; we cannot wait to hear the fast flight.

The pop virulence of the following We Want To Talk To Your Leader has the body romping within a breath or two, its new wave flaunt of sound and enterprise pure addiction which teases with nods to The Ramones; flavouring simply grabbed full-on by Video Tape next with again simply contagious results. Both tracks, though to be honest as all songs, leave the body breathless and greedy for more, a hunger quickly fed with great relish by the irritable sonic escapade of Flying Fuck and the flirtatious parade of Modern Fissure. The first is a furious surge of boisterous sound and brazen seduction and its successor a calmer but no less instinctively raw and rapacious slice of synth pop and both quite delicious to the ears.

The album ends with Levitation Train 2077, a swirling maelstrom of electronic punk as controlled as it is feral creating one glorious finale. All bands should have a theme tune to our thoughts, something recognisable and addictive announcing their arrival, like all the best TV shows, and this is undoubtedly the one for The Scaners.

Everything about the album was liquor to our intoxication and as the introduction of The Scaners to our ears, the spark to a lusty following hereon in; there is the feeling we will not be alone.

The Scaners album is out now via Dirty Water Records, Dirty Water Records USA, Adrenalin Fix Music, Casbah Records, Dangerhouse Skylab, Teenage Hate Records, Strycknine Recordz, and Trokson Records and available at https://www.dirtywaterrecords.co.uk/shop/#!/The-Scaners/c/27034946/offset=0&sort=normal and https://thescaners.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/thescaners/

 Pete RingMaster 27/02/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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