I Am Duckeye – Songs From The Gunt

IAD_RingMasterReview

From the moment I am Duckeye had us Punching Dicks in 2013, the Australian quartet has been a devilish itch in unseen places leading to regular treatment of their riff loaded, highly mischievous rock ‘n’ roll. Across two albums and numerous singles, the band has whipped up a storm of bruising and invigorating sounds and eager bad habits. Now though, is the realisation that it was all merely the warm up act for the main show, Songs From The Gunt. The Melbourne quartet’s new album is simply in another league to its impressive and fiercely enjoyable predecessors. It is still a great menace of sex, dirty sex, and salacious revelry, but I Am Duckeye has truly come of age with their diverse and hungry sound in what will be one of the major highlights of the year.

Making their debut in 2008, I Am Duckeye first whipped up eager attention beyond their local borders with the Punching Dicks EP five years later. Already their home city had succumbed to the “comedy punk rock” which slips from the foursome of vocalist/guitarist brothers Sam and Matt Haycroft, bassist Jules, and drummer Sean as easily as the previous night’s curry, the morning after a drunken rampage. 2013 also saw the band’s debut album, Husband unleashed to increasing acclaim and rapture, though that was eclipsed in turn by its successor Commando Too the following year. As Songs From The Gunt, each album has been a successful crowd funded venture and the bringing of heavier and more voracious intent and sound from the band, which their third album continues. This time though, it sees them dive into a thicker tapestry of styles and flavours, unlock a bolshier arsenal of riffs and rhythms, and involve ears in moments of sheer licentious brilliance.

The anthemic intensity of Sex Fight gets the party flying, the song an immediate wall of spicy grooves and rapacious riffs driven by the roar of vocals alongside senses scything rhythms. It is instant evidence of the step up in heavyweight confrontation and antagonism fuelling the band’s sound but also of the diversity. The virulent grooves tempt with a funk bred devilment whilst the twists of infectious incitement is as punk as you could wish. Additional steps into melodic caresses and atmospheric deceits just reveal the new depth of a creative imagination which you feel has always been within the band but is now being shared with bold adventurousness amidst their instincts to rock and raise a meaty grin or two.

cover_RingMasterReviewThe outstanding start is more than backed by both Hectic and Hot Nuts. The first immediately swamps ears in a noise rock spiral of nagging; vocals bronco riding the tempest before things dive into another romping punk ‘n’ roll canter. Like a mix of The Fat Dukes Of Fuck and Melvins, the track relentlessly ignites ears and appetite, raising the depth of bait again when slipping into a tar thick sludgy prowl with the ever involving lure of the Haycroft led vocals. The song is glorious, repeating its cycle to greater effect across its body before allowing its successor to parade its punk rock seed loaded wares. Keenly weaving in strains of hard rock too, the guitars relishing the chance to flirt with sonic enterprise, the bundle of sweaty energy hits the spot dead centre.

The Binternet swings in with flirtatious hips next, its surrounding sonic shimmer wearing a post punk meets psyche rock sheen around the great agitation of Sean’s percussive skills. Lyrically cutting, even though delivered with usual mischief, the song tantalises and fascinates whilst again employing a clutch of varying spices to its muscular rock ‘n’ roll; a design emulated again in the enthralling rumble of Wide On. As much garage punk as it is heavy rock, as much punk as it is alternative metal, the track canters through ears like an attitude inflamed stallion on the persistent and contagious gallops of Sean’s rhythms; they in turn aligned to the predatory and anthemic lure of Jules’ fingers.

The grungy rock ‘n’ roll of Papsmear the Clown increasingly pleases as it leads to the psychotic majesty of Ben outta Ten. Here early surf rock hooks are quickly twisted and distorted into a fiery blaze which in turn sparks a ferocious assault of heavy rock which is kind of like Mastodon meets Triggerman. Mid-way though, the song suddenly loses its already loose sanity and evaporates into a sonic dissonance lined breeze with haunting touches to confuse and thrill thoughts further. As good as it is though, the track is soon forgotten as The Quickening emerges from its distant fog. A hilarious and mesmeric embracing of the Highlander films; the track drifts through ears and into the imagination with a folkish/progressive ambience around a military toned rhythmic skeleton draped in a Celtic lacing. As grooves emerge with intoxicating spicing, the track becomes more imposing and volatile, gripping attention tighter as it unpredictably twists into a swing loaded shuffle, which in turn breaks into an insatiable punk romp and so on…

Fart of the Year break the momentary calm that lays between songs with carnivorous riffs and a general rapacity to its grouchy rock ‘n’ roll whilst Uncle Reg growls and prowls from the great grizzly lead of Jules’ bass. Sam and Matt of course only build on that bait with their own debasing string spawned enterprise, casting an unrelenting nagging of the senses and the by now seriously greedy appetite for the release. The track is another major high in the lofty heights breached by each and every song so far, a trend only continuing as Clean Snap swings and swerves with seriously spicy grooves around a crunching parade of rhythmic and riff spawned dexterity. As throughout Songs From The Gunt, for all the impressive and new invention and imagination in songs, they are all at the heart pure instincts gripping rock ‘n’ roll very few can say no to.

The rousing show tune quality of Pish Paste is surely deserving of gracing a theatre somewhere, though hard to see it being on Broadway. It easily whips up a storm in pleasure and physical involvement leaving exhaustion in its wake to meet closing track Pledgends, a full-on heavy rock thank you and a ”passing of the blame” to all those helping the album come to light.

Songs From The Gunt is simply superb; as suggested I Am Duckeye hitting a new plateau in songwriting and sound without losing the reason we all flocked to them initially; raucous fun, irrepressible mischief, and brazen naughtiness.

Songs From The Gunt is released March 4th digitally and on CD and 12” green or clear vinyl @ https://iamduckeye.bandcamp.com/album/songs-from-the-gunt

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Pete RingMaster 01/03/2016

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I Am Duckeye – Commando Too

pic Michael Reynolds

pic Michael Reynolds

Those insatiable Australian riff stalkers I Am Duckeye have returned with second album Commando Too and if you thought they could not exploit and distort the classic cacophonous swipe any more than they did on debut album Husband, then stand corrected as the Melbourne quartet has bred and plucked a whole new tsunami of belligerent riffery and merciless revelry. Consisting of fourteen tongue pressing slabs of salacious devilment and unbridled wickedness, album two spreads the toxins birthed in its predecessor into new insatiably irreverent and seriously compelling brawls.

From the first day of their rampage in 2008 it is probably fair to say that the quartet of guitarists/vocalists and brothers Sam and Matt Haycroft (who also play in Sydonia, Afterwhite and Chico Flash respectively), bassist Jules (also in Dirty F), and drummer Sean (Sydonia), has had the good clean living people of Melbourne drenched in nightmares and the hellacious basking with broad grins. They are a band that once assaulted and thrilled by lustful hunger is inevitable, as with us after their inescapable Punching Dicks EP. It was a release which told us all about the mischief and intent of the band whilst Husband revealed beneath all the humour and sexual antics, I Am Duckeye takes their music seriously and with a plentiful of skill and imagination. The Duckeye riff mobile has been taking on steam to match its weight and with the release of Commando Too, it can only be a matter of when and not if the tea bagging reprobates infect and bring down the world.

The crowd-funded album opens with the towering ‘offspring’ of first album’s track The Riff, well certainly a closely bred cousin. Son of a a3551119337_2Riff reveals its intent lyrically and musically within its first breath, scraping guitars teasing ears as the vocals provide the source of the narrative in the bands as always one of a kind way. It is not long before rhythms are caving in on the senses whilst guitars turn up with searing flames and ferocity. The music growls like a woman giving birth, grizzling sonic endeavour adding to the heavyweight voracity driving on the track’s twisted rampage. It is a tremendous start given extra spice by the brief My Sharona like licks and swiftly matched by the just as ravenous endeavour of Grip It. Though distinctly different the song starts with the same intensity and scarring riffery of its predecessor but as it establishes itself soon unearths a hell of a demonic riff and throat which is plain rabid. Suddenly a juggernaut of rapacious urgency and spiteful dynamics, the confrontation tears down senses and ignites the imagination like a mix of Slayer meets Age of Menace meets Melvins, and is just brilliant.

Hi Viz comes next and though it has its moments just does not click overall. Steam punk expulsions and floating discord kissed harmonies drift into view first courted by a single guitar. It is an intriguing if not captivating start but one soon working once embraced by a torrent of scathing riffs and sonic antagonism. Sadly that is the best part of the song and only when it intermittently returns does, for personal pleasure, the song work. Nevertheless it makes a decent variation before the addictive punk- skat fest of Duckeye Boogie picks up ears and passions for a rhythmically hypnotic and sonically seductive romp. As always the band’s choice of words and lyrical adventure is irresistible but as with the last album it is the music which grabs the biggest plaudits, though combined everything is a destiny suiting fit.

The just as tremendous Windmills comes along next, again the band playing with their punk side (something their mother never warned them about). There is a sense of Dirt Box Disco to the feisty sinew driven punk ‘n’ roll incitement, where rhythms and especially riffs steal the honours once again though the infestation of hooks have their say also before the album takes another twist and venture into disco with Tuesday, I Go the Blues Way…only kidding. The song is a sweaty rather than sultry moan of the blues done Aussie style and as always with the band comes in an unpredictable soak of delicious taunting. Imagine Lemmy singing the blues after lessons from Sir Les Patterson and you get the drift to another great moment.

Things only get better and better as the album progresses, the noise rock mess of I Need Rehab just excellent and hilarious. Vocally distraught and musically deranged until its heavy rock needs escape, the track is just irresistible as is the following post/steam punk come electro orgy of What is Wrong with Me?, a brief self-reflection which is more pride than insecurities. Matching the pair in setting leakages in motion is Stool Bender, a fierce heavy stoner bred rocker of a mating with the ears which flirts, gnaws, and suffocates the senses, though not always in that order. Stalked by the bass and slapped around by the drums, passions are already aflame but sent feverish by the cruel causticity of the riffing and the ever engaging vocals. The track is another undeniable slab of evidence to the growing craft and intent of the songwriting of the band and their accomplished sounds, so much so that you just wonder if one day we will see a ‘serious’ rock/metal album coming from the guys.

This latest lofty plateau of the album continues with the stomping animosity of the blistering Meth is Death and the Black Tusk like avalanche Agonhymn, both adding rich fun, diversity, and might to the release before the angst drawn Headbutt. If persistence and sonic nagging is a sin than this band is going right where they want to with tracks like this their infernal anthem. It is a bestial and ruinous experience, a damnation of contagion.

The album finishes with firstly the exhausting blaze of Ayy Ayy, a savage and uncompromising fury which makes Mastodon look timid but a tempest which is just as gleeful mellowing in unexpected places with wistful harmonies and looks. From there the release closes on the sweltering climate and stoner sonic winery of Panchow, a final leviathan of proof in case you had any doubts left that this band can write exceptional metal/rock songs of varying spices. It is a smouldering stoner/psychedelic flame of acidic enterprise and evocative resonance which leaves a lingering fire for the imagination and passions to immerse in.

After Husband we were left wondering if I Am Duckeye could go much further in their invention and craft let alone devilment; well Commando Too is the evidence that not only can they but it is still blissfully early days…

Comando Too is available now @ http://iamduckeye.bandcamp.com/

http://iamduckeye.com

9.5/10

RingMaster 11/06/2014

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I Am Duckeye – Double Riff Action

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The base morality of the world is always open to a new lesson and our favourite Australian reprobates I Am Duckeye has given it another welcome swipe to the balls with another infuriatingly addictive riff fisting through their new single. After the release of their exceptional album Husband last year; where riffs, rhythms and testicular examinations were wantonly encouraged, it was easy to wonder how the band could improve on its irrepressible delights. The Double Riff Action single provides an instant answer, its double A-sided suasion featuring the first temptation to the band’s upcoming full-length Commando Too, an anthemic bait of riotous proportions. Consisting of nine tracks running around fifty minutes and also featuring live cuts, remixes, and interview, the release is a chunky slab of Duckeye goodness bursting with honest depravity and juicy hilarity.

Formed in 2008 and consisting of brothers Sam (Sydonia, Afterwhite) and Classic Matt Haycroft (Chico Flash), bassist Jules (Dirty F, Afterwhite), and drummer Sean (Sydonia), I Am Duckeye has begun to solicit passions far beyond their already submissive state, especially hometown Melbourne. Their sounds are being voraciously grabbed in the US, France, UK and further afield with almost lecherous attention. It is early days but an appetite is ripe for their merging of comedy and the heaviest riff infused rock available. They provide an encounter which equally feeds of the ripeness of punk and metal, and helps create a rising force to give parents the shivers and grannies tingles.

Double Riff Action as mentioned comprises of an array of tracks led by the two A-sided singles. First up is Son Of A Riff, the lead single double-riff-action-coverfrom the upcoming album. From its first breath guitars are scraping at ears and senses with a scramble of riffs as the vocals introduce the premise of the narrative. With rumbling rhythms carrying more weight than a sumo wrestling team and the bass growling like a bear with crabs, the track erupts into a juggernaut of voracious endeavour and carnivorous intent. Lyrically as expected the band does not leave the funny bone unsatisfied either, the opening presentation….

This is a song, a song about cooking riffs
A cooking song!
Not a cooking song, a song about rolling spliffs
Smoking a bong!
No not smoking a bong Matthew, but writing yourself a hit
Hitting is wrong!
Yes hitting is wrong, unless your song is utter shit
Now!

…telling all.

The track carves up air and senses like a herd of kamikaze first time weightwatchers, though it also throws in a few respites and a My Sharona like hook which we will forgive them for. The song offers more than enough to spark a girly anticipation for Commando Too whilst the following track reminds just how immense the last album was.

The Riff the delivers an even greater cantankerous attitude and predation with its opening riffs, they snarling with bestial intent to provide exactly what it says on its label whilst unearthing a carnal enticement  for which mass mutilation seems a fair price. With sonic repetition and heavy duty oppressiveness an intimidating pleasure, the song is a glorious predator; almost a normal song at times, ok washing my mouth out with soap right now guys.

The rest of the single is made up of firstly acoustic live performances of Tuesday I Go the Blues Way, The Riff, and the should be world anthem Punching Dicks, all thoroughly enjoyable with pipes, violins and more in tow, but it is the verbal antics of the band before and during songs which steals the show more often than not.

The full live track of The Riff recorded at The Cherry Bar, Melbourne last year is a hungry gem whilst the remixes End Of The Riff and Punching McVomit, a squalling version of Punching Dicks hit the right spot before a hilarious interview with the band closes up shop.

Double Riff Action is another great intrusion by the band, its two lead songs sheer I Am Duckeye alchemy and the band as contagious and unstoppable as ever. The hunger for the new album is destined to be impatient and demanding after this…in fact hurry up with it you taunting teabaggers. 😉

http://iamduckeye.com

9/10

RingMaster 27/03/2014

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I Am Duckeye – Husband

I Am Duckeye pic

If you are one to have been welcomingly violated and recruited by the basement level persuasion of Australians I Am Duckeye and their Punching Dicks EP, whose title song once embraced has the habit of repeating on its victims at the most inopportune moments, then the thought of their debut album will have juices leaking and erections of hunger ripe for feeding. Husband is a thunderous dose of punk and metal coaxed aural below the waist salaciousness which leaves expectations of hearing something very good in the release potent underestimation. It is an outstanding album which offers slabs of prime rock ‘n’ roll for the lyrical and mischievous deviancy to rampage within.

Formed in 2008 I am Duckeye fuse comedy and riotous fun with a contagious and impressively crafted mesh of punk, rock, and metal. Imagine a back street union between Kevin Bloody Wilson, The Dickies, and Melvins, whilst Alberto Y Los Trios Paranoias and The Wildhearts add their ounce of liquid expulsions to the recipe. Consisting of founders, guitarists/vocalists and twin brothers Sam and Matt ‘Mattness’ Haycroft, who also play in Sydonia, Afterwhite and Chico Flash respectively, bassist Jules (also in Dirty F), and drummer Sean (Sydonia), the Melbourne band has already laid down a legacy of three EPs, videos, and a wealth of YouTube Duckisodes which will have mothers and grandmothers deep in their coffin’s resting place. Husband is undoubtedly their finest piece of irreverence yet and one which musically is a thrilling and imaginative monster. Containing fifteen tracks wrapped in the excellent artwork of Julian Medor (Dirty F) and unique photography by Randy Blythe (Lamb Of God), the album is a comedy rock juggernaut which is so much more than just a slab of naughtiness.

The album launches upon ear and senses with S’whale, the opening call of the sperm named creature meeting heavy rhythms and4pg or Multi pg Booklet V2.ai hungry riffs whilst the adjoining bass offers a throat full of snarling temptation. Into its productive and intimidating stride the vocals begin expelling the ‘educational’ narrative whilst the sounds carve out a formidable and infectious course of metal infectiousness with loud whispers of the likes of Trucker Diablo.

    Tea Baggin’ continues the metallic predatory sounds, its carnivorous riffs and bass seduction ridden by dual anthemic vocal enticement coated in gang persuasion. With lyrics which you can rightly assume are not about the merits of starting the day with a choice of Ceylon, China, or Lapsang Souchong sourced beverage sparking grins and more within the high octane growl of a song, the album already has inspired an impressed and lustful passion for its body further cemented with the likes of the punk ‘n’ roll blaze of It’s Time and the twisting noise rock punk engrained Whateva (Dude). It has to be said that even if the rest of the album had sucked like a Granny with no sense of direction we would have been enthusing vociferously about the release because of the opening quartet of tracks. Thankfully it just continues to rape sensibilities and unleash sounds which corrupt and wonderfully gnaw at the ear with craft and fierce antagonism not forgetting varied invention.

The wine appreciation of Corkin’, only joking, with its intensive niggling grind of riffs and climatic call, and the manic schizoid fuelled rummage of the senses Ung again leave passions alight, the latter with an evolving almost Primus like creative bedlam, whilst Brown Eyed Guy is a classic rock fired furnace of sexual temptation which again only drives the album deeper into the passions.

Without reeling out every track and leaving things for you to discover, quite simply Husband carries on diversifying its bait with devious enterprise, the likes of the exceptional and musically twisted Chode To Jesus, the exhausting predatory punk/rock bruiser Prolapse, and the leviathan The Riff, a track laden with riffs of course, all which would leave Mastodon dribbling in to their beards, engineering greater greed for its bad mannered ingenuity. Right there amongst them is also the anthem of all anthems of band and the world, Punching Dicks. The song is prime punk rock, lyrical repetition and simple construction breeding the purest infection which is like an epidemic, once consumed as mentioned it rears its insatiable head at any moment it chooses in thoughts, its presence breeding a Tourette’s like need to expel its call whether on a train, at a family reunion, funeral, or a Justin Beiber concert, though that last one is acceptable and pure instruction.

With the magnetic and disorientating inventive stumbling of Shadow Pogs and the insanity caressing closing title track, Husband is simply brilliant. Actually we have almost mentioned all the songs despite the earlier intent so note both Slag Bank and Rabbit Kick and you have the full complement of the aberrational glories. I Am Duckeye certainly lead to bad behaviour as they stake a claim as one of our own obsessions masked under favourite bands, just be brave and let them lure you into their clutches too.

http://iamduckeye.com/

http://www.youtube.com/iamduckeye

10/10

RingMaster 07/06/2013

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