Dirt Box Disco – TV Sex Show

As a certain virus continues to overwhelm lives, society and the world, moments of feel good interjection can only be hungrily seized upon or in the case of the new Dirt Box Disco album, greedily devoured. The release gripped from its first breath and swiftly had the body bouncing with rapacious energy, all the while simply confirming DBD as UK’s maybe even the world’s finest rock ‘n’ roll band.

Step into TV Sex Show and unsurprisingly, if already a fan, you find a horde of tracks which arouse and incite with mischievous intent. The album is a raucously anthemic assault on apathy and despondency, a ‘go get ‘em’ insistence fuelled by the band’s inimitable punk rock bred sound which even in this moment of global self-isolation will get you at the very least hollering at the world from within any confines. As proven by previous releases like its predecessor, Immortals, the band’s sound even with its familiar individualism continues to grow and embrace; TV Sex Show uncaging Dirt Box Disco’s fullest, broadest and richest skilled cacophony of devilment and flavouring yet.

It is also the first encounter with the band since the departure of singer WEAB.I.AM, a change which raised intrigue but not panic as guitarist/songwriter Spunk Volcano has embraced the frontman role now something he has already proven magnetically accomplished in with his own solo project, Spunk Volcano and The Eruptions. With drummer Maff Fazzo, lead guitarist Danny Fingers, and bassist Deadbeatz Chris again unleashing their own esurient craft and revelry too, all three as motivating in their backing vocal roars, Dirt Box Disco grabbed ears and rock ‘n’ roll instincts from the first surge of TV Sex Show and not for the first time left us breathless and ridiculously grinning by the album’s final breath.

The release opens up with Unstoppable, Dirt Box Disco announcing and declaring their intent and defiance with the band’s combined vocal lure an immediate spark for personal vocal chords to unite in, the first round of solidarity quickly followed by a contagion of riffs and hooks aligned to just as virulent rhythms. With the same creative and catchy swing in Spunk’s vocals, the song had the body and spirit flinging energetic shapes and emotions like a master puppeteer.

Further ignited by Danny’s melodic wiring, the track is an exceptional start to the album which the following Insomniac ensures never drops with its heavier, more predacious punk ‘n’ roll. Relentless in its rhythmic harrying, incessant in cantankerous riffery and primal grooving, the song had us shouting with knowing unity while Barebones from its initial sonic nagging and rhythmic jabbing soon insisted and received similar participation in its punk nurtured call out.

A moment of intimate reflection or personal observation, I want out in many ways echoes the situations we find ourselves in right now as well as experiences all have felt at some point in time. Its calmer gait and energy still has a tempestuousness which equips the infectious chorus which DBD for years have proven so crafty at igniting listeners with.

Dickhead and the hype is next up, its punk rock meets hard rock swell pure anthemic encouragement refusing defiance, though great and addictive as it swiftly proves is still outshone by The Count of Monte Cristo lives in San Francisco. It’s initially reserved but still highly catchy saunter through ears is almost a tease of things to come, a hint to the voracious virulence which soaks another chorus only the deaf may be able to resist. That opening stroll returns and continues to light up attention between the surges, its melodic luring sparking the imagination before those eruptions grip throat and body.

The old school seeding of Reminisce got under the skin within seconds, the track brewing another potent fixation with something of a Vibrators meets UK Subs meets Mud lining to its still DBD individuality, the same agility easily said of 3 bottles down which again from a calm reflective opening brews an incitement which nags as much as it inspires full and eager involvement.

As often with relish, DBD turn the spotlight on a certain type of character we have all come across through Bitch full of stitches, a track which had us rocking with the kind of zeal its protagonist frequently shares in their own way with Vdtv for a minute and a half bitch slapping the senses while equally inflaming them with primal punk rock predation. It is a relentless assault built on the individual prowess of the band and their united contagion, a unity just as impressive and manipulative within successor Simple but effective. A middle finger parading response to ‘the haters’, again body  and vocal chords as well as spirit were keenly slung into the song’s vociferous yell and once more TV Sex Show proved itself irresistible.

The truly magnetic Ain’t life grand completes the line-up of pleasure, its intimacy as open as its gentle but persistent infectiousness. Grab the CD version of the album though and find the added pleasure of two bonus tracks in Tizwatitiz and Wake up. The first of the pair is another pure punk rock nurtured surge of temptation wired by many other flavours, its voracious instigation of eager complicity prime DBD while the second is a slab of rock ‘n’ roll contagion owing as much to the likes of Showaddywaddy as the seventies punk instigators it also hints at in its feral punk ‘n’ roll clamour.

So that is TV Sex Show, another glorious riot with Dirt Box Disco which leaves spirit and body ready to take on any challenge and pleasure boiling over. I am sure we have said this before with a DBD album and probably a few times but this might just be their finest moment yet.

TV Sex Show is released April 18th via Avenue Recordz; available digitally, on CD and on Ltd Edition “Mystery” coloured Vinyl.

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Pete RingMaster 26/03/2020

Copyright RingMasterReview: MyFreeCopyright

Dirt Box Disco – Immortals

UK punksters Dirt Box Disco have this enviable knack of unleashing something inescapably fresh with every record whilst retaining a trademark sound which makes the band one of punk’s most individual propositions. It is a success which is not only repeated with their new album but escalated for their finest moment to date.

Immortals is the sixth studio album from the Midlands hailing quintet and comes with more twists and turns than a swatter hunted fly in a cream cake shop. From song to song it romps with various shades in the spectrum of punk and rock ‘n’ roll; pop, old school, hardcore, and many more voracious hues embraced and given the DBD creative deviancy. It has proven near to impossible to settle on our favourite thirty DBD songs to date let alone choose a top ten but right now you can expect plenty from Immortals to feature in both.

Album opener Ready Or Not is a declaration of their return, though their ravenous live hunger ensures they are never far from a town near you and that they have more of the goodness and madness which has made the band one of punk’s essentials. It’s opening rally of beats and string of la-la-las signal prime DBD is here and eager to get us all bouncing and roaring. Manipulative catchiness has always been swift enslavement in the band’s sound and simply virulent within the first throes of the first song. The rousing incitement of vocalist WEAB.I.AM quickly works its persuasion, its ‘lock up your daughters ‘n’ hide the loot’ message a warning and promise of their insatiable sound and intent.

Its irresistible punk ‘n’ roll is followed by the just as ravenous pop punk lusting of Teenage Lovestruck Blues; a wonderful confusion of sixties, seventies, and modern punk and power pop honed into one swinging stomp ripe with riffs and hooks uncaged by Spunk Volcano and Danny Fingerz in collusion with a tangle of vocals and harmonies. As its predecessor, it unerringly hit the spot as too the melodic seducing of You’re The Only One For Me. It opens with the nervousness of a first date before hitting a confident stroll with the beats of Maff Fazzo the pump to its instinctive excitement of song and romance. Deadbeat Chris’ growling bass is a perfect contrast to the infectious double prong vocal lure, the song sharing gentle incitement fuelled caresses to stir eager involvement from those around and indeed listening.

A whiff of old school lines next up Caveman.com, the excellent feral stomp something akin to The Vibrators meets Turbonegro but distinctly DBD while Stop Shouting similarly taps into seventies punk for its core hook and riffery, draping it in the band’s inimitable anthemic rock ‘n’ roll instincts. Only the deaf could evade its physical and persuasive holler though even Fazzo’s incisive rhythms could probably stir their senses. Both tracks get body and spirit bouncing though maybe not as hungrily as 11th May or the following Mummy’s Boy. The first jabs and harries with beats and riffs, vocals commanding participation as the body throws itself around to the sounds while its successor flies through ears with seventies punk ferocity and DIY aggression to stir even greater involvement.

Done & Dusted is the kind of arousal you might expect The Pirates to come up with if starting out now, their own style of punk and rock ‘n’ roll an echo past of the contagion DBD seemingly effortlessly conjure. Like so many tracks it steps in, lays an instant creative glove on ears and has the body dancing to its whims before leaving at its height of temptation.

Box Of Tapes mixes hard rock and metal with its punk heart, the track a raucous compulsion for ears and appetite before Mirror Mirror shares its reflective croon with energy and tenacity, again hooks spun recalling some of punk’s glory days but revelling in their creator’s own modern uniqueness.

Rock ‘n’ roll comes no more masterful and incendiary than in the riotous charge of Box Set Addict; its raw urgency and attack infused with one delicious bassline and riveting sonic enterprise. The track is superb but still eclipsed by the album’s finest moment, Joyce’s Voices. The initial lure of haunted guitar is a tease of the unpredictable from which melodic infection winds around ears as WEAB.I.AM introduces the spirit guesting world of Joyce. Everything about the song is captivation, rock music which has body, voice, and appetite wrapped around its inventive fingers whilst reminding of people we have all come across in presence or legend.

Immortals leaves as sonically vociferous and rowdy as it began with firstly Pint Kamikaze Jaeger Smash, a sing-a-long bruising and stomping, and lastly through the attitude hurling Shut The Fuckin’ Door. The pair just epitomise the adventure and addiction brewed by the album, the first a lung bursting incitement with its companion a middle finger raising riot woven from various thick threads of rock ‘n’ roll and both reasons alone why DBD are so revered and greedily followed.

With every release Dirt Box Disco evolve, uncaging something new each and every time yet they never deviate from their insatiable honest sound. It is a skill and craft which sets them apart, keeping fans deliriously stomping and the band at the head table of punk rock.

Immortals is released April 27th via STP Records with an Ltd Ed vinyl version released July 28th.

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Pete RingMaster 30/03/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright