Threatmantics – Shadow On Your Heart

As we have suggested before, originality can be found in numerously various places within music but uniqueness is more of a holy grail as each decade passes. One band which radiates the latter is Welsh outfit Threatmantics; well certainly their third album, Shadow On Your Heart deserves that declaration and as frustratingly it is our own introduction to the Cardiff quartet we will eagerly generally tag them with it too.

Like mischievous troubadours, Threatmantics weave tales and musical adventures with a fusion of art and folk rock; though that alone only hints at the essences which make up their deviously tantalising sound. It is a proposition which embraces the hues of bands such as The Cardiacs, XTC, This Heat, Mr Bungle and Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci in various ways and places throughout Shadow On Your Heart but essences only spicing the band’s hard to pin down music and imagination.

Recorded with French producer Anne-Sophie Ouvrier, Shadow On Your Heart opens up the theatre within with it’s title track; initially tempting with snarly riffs before breaking into a smiling melodic saunter. Those few seconds alone had ears fully intrigued and attentive, the viola of Heddwyn Davies a summery lead alongside the earthier moves of Gareth Middleton’s bass and the crystal touch of Andrew Rhys Lewis’ guitar. Davies’ vocals are just as magnetic with their bard-esque character, a swing to their lilt matching that of the outstanding start to the album.

First Things is next up and just as much a tease of musical lures from its first breath; viola and rhythms colluding in instinctive temptation before vocals bring their own invitation to the immediately infectious brew. With a controlled but rousing burst of chorus and unpredictability in every move and twist in its drama, the song is aural devilment led by the equally catchy swinging beats of Huw Alun Davies. Echoes of Zanti Misfitz and The Cardiacs shimmer within the riveting encounter before Now You Are Gone reveals its own individual magnificence. Middleton’s bass is a delicious grumble, the guitar of Lewis sonic nectar while the vocals of Davies just recruit participation in the virulent saunter.

Who Is Afraid Of Patrick Wolf? is folk encrusted rock ‘n’ roll so easy to be enslaved by; a Horslips like scenting adding to its indie natured entangling of ears and appetite while Cold Warts darkly serenades with a Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci flavoured breath. Both tracks were as irresistible as those before, the second of the two adding Cardiacs meets post punk ingenuity to its kaleidoscope of multi-decade sourced antics.

The band’s new single follows, Dangos Dy Ddannedd a darkly lit seducing with volatility in its belly and melodic bedlam in its instincts. Increasingly intensifying in fever and pandemonium, it makes way for the McLusky natured mayhem of Krystal Pystol. A rousing ruckus of punk infused noise it in turn breaks from the speakers to allow the calmer breath and charm of Under The Sun to caress the senses. A rugged stomp emerges from its slightly disturbed tranquillity to manipulate and escalate an already in place satisfaction with the song’s exploits.

The album closes with the impish folk ‘n roll of Mother Folker From Hell, a song alone showing the array of flavours employed in the Threatmantics imagination and lastly the sludge thick chunter and feral crawl of Little Johnny. Imagine the mutant offspring of 12 Stone Toddler and Melvins and you get a sense of the sublime end to one glorious album.

Like us for us there may be many to whom Threatmantics is an undiscovered thrill so we suggest making Shadow On Your Heart the moment the rapture begins.

Shadow On Your Heart is out now through Ffatbyrg Records @ https://threatmantics.bandcamp.com/releases digitally and on 12” vinyl, with a limited edition, numbered run of hand printed covers by acclaimed Welsh artist John Abell.

https://www.facebook.com/Threatmantics/   https://twitter.com/threatmantics

Pete RingMaster 05/03/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Dewaere – Slot Logic

Pic by titouan massé

With a sound something akin to a mutated fusion of Big Black, Fatima Mansions, and Melvins but openly distinct in its own roar and skin, Dewaere is a French band unleashing a rousing noise punk incitement very hard for us not to get excited over. Their music is a contagiously imposing trespass rich in imagination and enterprise and found in full devilment within recently released debut album Slot Logic. It is a cauldron of noise and raw temptation which harried, ravaged and seduced the senses from start to finish.

Hailing from Saint-Brieuc, Dewaere create an inescapably manipulative senses searing holler bred from the combined creative antics of vocalist Maxwell Farrington, guitarist Julien Henry, bassist Marc Aumont, and drummer Hugues Le Corre. As immediately revealed by album opener Get Down, the band’s music is nurtured in noise rock and punk flavours and inspirations but equally has an appetite for post punk and an additional array of sonic trespasses present and past. It all makes for a riveting insurgence of sound and adventure revelling the opportunity to infest ears. The first track initially teases with a guitar jangle which is swiftly joined by the commandingly and increasingly magnetic tones of Farrington. Almost as quickly the thumping beats of Le Corre descend as Aumont’s bass enticingly grumbles; it all coming together for a ferocious encounter but one with fluid moments of relative calm and composure. As an introduction to the band, the track is raw and majestic, and as a taste of things to come across Slot Logic quite delicious.

The following Budapest is similarly immediately compelling. The gnarly bass alone made an already keen appetite greedier as too the senses scything swings of Le Corre. The guitar insurgency of Henry is equally as invasive as it is hungrily seductive; corruptive hooks and grooves aligning with rhythmic predation to corrode and inflame ears and senses. The catchiness of the song is as powerful as its character of invention and matched within next up Happy Hour, another proposition which forces itself upon the listener before dancing with their rock ‘n’ roll instincts. A predatory affair led by the ever alluring vocals of Farrington, his presence as dynamic and devilish is in many ways akin to the likes of Cathal Coughlan (Fatima Mansions/Microdisney) and Guy McKnight (The Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster), while the track itself is its own snarling contagion in the album’s continuing revelation.

Through the likes of Garden, a primal irrepressible serenade of a treat, and The Vase with its almost carnal incitement around rapier swung beats, Slot Logic only further blossoms in sound and imagination, both tracks feral but sublimely crafted predators before the band next up delivers a cover of The Korgis’ song Everybody’s Got To Learn Sometime. Whilst embracing the original’s pop breath, Dewaere unleash their own corrosive power pop like bent alongside their never diminishing sonic causticity; unleashing an adrenaline fuelled gear never envisaged in the track originally. It is a spicing further developed within the outstanding St-Tropez In Summer which follows. There is at times a certain Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster meets Engerica flavouring to the band’s distinctly individual sound but a twist in the wonderful bedlam here which again also hints at a Fatima Mansions influence or coincidence.

The thumping stomp of Aye Aye within a sonic cyclone keeps release and pleasure flying before October casts a web of scorched and scorching sonic discontent around a darkly intimating vocal croon. The track hurts and seduces in equally measure, leaving ears sore and the imagination alive before Wot U Lyk completes the release with its pop hungry garage punk ‘n’ roll; the body swiftly bouncing to its own fevered energy and catchiness.

It is a fine close to an album which just impresses more and more by the listen much as Dewaere themselves with every passing creative exploit and invasion.

Slot Logic is out now via Phantom Records and BiGout Records; available @ https://phantomrecords.bandcamp.com

https://www.facebook.com/dewaereband   https://dewaereband.bandcamp.com

Pete RingMaster 04/01/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Great Sabatini – Goodbye Audio

Pic by DAVE LEVITT

Four years on from their psyche ravaging third album, Dog Years, Canadian noise sludgers The Great Sabatini return with another maelstrom of noise bred dissonance which, to continue a trend set from their first releases, is their most irresistible trespass to date. Goodbye Audio is around thirty five minutes of sonic abrasion as unpredictable creatively as it is expectantly striking; an invasion of raw and toxic noise intent on caustic seduction.

The Montreal quartet of Steve, Sean , Rob, and Joey Sabatini have in many ways continued exploring the less destructive but deviously manipulative essences of its predecessor with Goodbye Audio but equally the new encounter again openly embraces the ravenously raw ferocity and bedlamic seeds of their sound exposed from day one. It makes for a release which tempts, seduces, and flirts with the senses and imagination as at the same time it marauds, pillages, and corrodes them.

The album opens up with recent single Still Life With Maggots, instantly descending on ears with a sonic and rhythmic harassment before taking a momentary breath and repeating the assault with the causticity of raw throated vocals enrolled. Melodic taunts and imposing tenacity also add to the short but evolving landscape of the song, that unpredictability swiftly fingering the imagination and igniting an admittedly already in place appetite for The Great Sabatini adventure set through previous escapades.

As next track, Dog Years quickly confirms this is a new psyche twisting caper with the band though but an exploration unafraid to hint at possible inspirations as the likes of Melvins, Unsane, and Sofy Major come to mind at certain moments across the whole of Goodbye Audio. The second song is an immediate bestial infringement, its carnal instincts fuelling sound and voice alongside intent as it crawls over the senses. Sludge metal and noise punk provide smog of irritability and raw tension but again if with less openness there is an underlying incalculable adventure which teases before exposing its majesty in the outstanding Strip Mall or, The Pursuit Of Crappiness Parts 1-4. The track is superb, from its initial hip manipulating flirtation breaking open a fissure of thick prowling malevolence veined with toxic grooving, that in turn twisting into corruptive punk ‘n’ roll rebellion before finding a quickly corrupted paradise.

You’re Gonna Die (Unsatisfied) stalks years and thoughts next, the guitar again inviting and taunting with its riffs as rhythms stroll and fly through the skulking throaty bass and swinging sticks. It is a maelstrom of threat and ferocity with the most frenetic prowl while Tax Season In Dreamland provides a feral punk tango exposing scars and lust with equal creative savagery. Its moments of emotionally hazed tranquillity are just as imposing stirring up emotive reflections as potent as the physical reactions its uproar provokes.

Through the shadow draped increasingly contaminated celestial breath of Brute Cortege and the intimidatingly mercurial fourteen minute emotional wilderness of Hand Of Unmaking, the album is brought to a mighty close; both tracks a provocation of body, spirit and thought with the latter a complete trial and adventure of its very own to hungrily immerse in.

We are not afraid to say that The Great Sabatini has been one of our favourite bands for a long time but even that usual readymade submission to their adventures was taken aback by the thrills and spills of Goodbye Audio. If noise annoys run for cover as the Canadians have it down to a fine raw art.

Goodbye Audio is out now on vinyl from No List Records, Ancient Temple Records and No Why Records with a cassette version featuring exclusive bonus track Drain The Swamp available from Pink Lemonade. Head over to https://thegreatsabatini.bandcamp.com/album/goodbye-audio for digital release and more…

 http://thegreatsabatini.com   https://facebook.com/thegreatsabatini   https://twitter.com/greatsabatini

Pete RingMaster 01/12/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Ragweed – Silver Spoon

Having caught the attention and passions with debut album Parerga three years ago, British rockers Ragweed has in their words, “gone through a rebirth”. They have come out of that moment of reassessment or evolution with a sound which is darker, dirtier, and flush with more salacious grooves and rousing antics than offered by an exuberant pole dancer. The evidence is all there in latest single Silver Spoon, a three- track extravaganza of devilish rock ‘n’ roll.

Just coming off of another self booked UK tour, the latest on a long line of successful ventures, this one in support of their latest release, the Brighton hailing trio forcibly build on and reinforce the fresh sense of contagious adventure and imagination their sound first introduced within last year’s AA-sided single Rust Box. As its predecessor, Silver Spoon is released through Milky Bomb Records and has been mastered by Alan Douches (Motorhead, Cancer Bats, Every Time I Die, Screaming Females) of West Side Music, New York, he getting involved having been taken with the band’s previous outings.

The single across its three parts is a tenacious and flirtatious blend of rock, punk, noise, and raw pop; tracks still embracing the heavy almost imposing essences of the band’s earlier releases but with a virulence and catchiness which really and lustily gets under the skin and into the limbs. Lead song, Silver Spoon instantly thrusts its muscular fingers upon the senses, predacious scythes of guitar drenched in sonic filth and so inviting especially once springing a groove woven swagger with rapaciously coaxing rhythms. The song’s swing is matched in the vocals, their boisterous energy as anthemic as the sound around them and just as mischievous.  Holding essences something akin to Foo Fighters meets The St Pierre Snake Invasion within its unique character the track is immense, only escalating its instinctive catchiness and creative devilment twist by turn, note by note.

The track is just as impressively backed up by its companions, Grey Matter being first up and swiftly sending a punk infested noise pop ‘n’ roll tide of riffs and rhythms through ears. Teasing keys add to its early temptation, their melodic mania lingering and erupting across the highly infectious proposal. Though dirtier and more psychotic than its predecessor, the track also has a more controlled hand on its caustic yet melodic stroll and heavy intent. It is a mix just as bold and manipulative though in another outstanding slice of Ragweed rock ‘n’ roll.

The single is completed by West Coast Pop, a Ramones meets Melvins escapade with a grunge lining to its irritable weight and nature. Fusing noise and alternative rock to its punk ‘n’ roll ferocity and dexterity, the song epitomises Ragweed’s new thrust of enterprise in their sound and writing; mixing old and new textures for one invasively alluring and irresistible trespass.

As last year’s single suggested Ragweed has grown into a striking proposition, an unpredictable and aggressively inventive one which going by Silver Spoon is heading to becoming one of the most essential adventures within the UK rock scene.

Silver Spoon is out now via Milky Bomb Records and available @ https://ragweed-milkybomb.bandcamp.com/album/silver-spoon

https://www.facebook.com/ragweedragweed    https://www.instagram.com/_ragweed/   https://twitter.com/ragweedrock

Pete RingMaster 13/11/2017

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

Exoskeletons – We Are Here To Make Things Better

Two years ago, British outfit Exoskeletons caught the imagination with their first release, the Get Lost EP. It was a striking almost rabid slice of punk infused noise rock which excited as it whetted the appetite for the band’s emerging sound. Since then the band has been in a process of “writing, gigging, destroying and rewriting material in an effort to find something new and more challenging.” The upcoming release of debut album We Are Here To Make Things Better is undeniable evidence in their discovering and exploring that new and individual incitement which most importantly is rather irresistible.

From Kent, Exoskeletons consists of members of Punching Swans, Bear vs Manero, and Houdini; all three bands which has certainly lit our fires in their own rights. Embracing inspirations from the writings of Greg Egan and Philip K Dick, especially on themes of Artificial intelligence, We Are Here To Make Things Better was recorded over 9 months between the September of last year and this past June. Released through Skingasm Records, the album is an adventurous mix of alternative rock with the band’s punk/noise origins which develops a distinct but connecting character over its ten tracks but brings an unpredictable quality and imagination to each.

Face In The Rock starts things off, the track merging from subdued sonic disturbance with beckoning beats and soon after the throbbing lure of bass. As the guitar entangles both with its acidic melodic vines, Greg Webster’s vocals step in, his distinctive tones inevitably bringing a Houdini feel though his guitar and the rhythmic imagination of bassist Peter Bevan and drummer Tom Bonner swiftly sculpt Exoskeletons unique textures and invention. The song continues to pounce and romp on the listener’s imagination, its kinetic gait and lively energy firmly gripping attention.

Even so, it is soon outshone by the following track and new single House Of Disappearing Bricks. It is pure virulent infectiousness, its firmly rapping beats and gnarly bassline instinctive manna to these ears even before the punk soaked attack of chords and vocals add to the trespass. The track’s post punk antics swiftly hit the spot, its noise punk devilry inflaming the passions as swinging rhythms and spiky hooks wake up a lustful submission to their angular bait. It is sublime stuff, pop discordance at its best and surely alone an unstoppable lure into the world of Exoskeletons for a new flood of fans.

Kuiper swaggers in next, again beats and bass casting an enslaving web as vocals across the band infest the psyche within another guitar woven tapestry of enterprise as belligerent as it is psychotic. Kind of like a mix of Shellac and The Mai Shi, the song traps ears in a compelling maze of sound before the more even keeled stroll of In Real Life takes over. In saying that, it pleasingly too has a rhythmic skeleton which jerks around with dervish like agility around which melodies with a caustic hue blossom. Passages of even calmer energy has a great feel of UK band An Entire Legion to them but again what emerges is a track distinct to its creators.

Through the catchy clamour of Crash Symbols and the crunchy prowess of Holes pleasure only escalates; the first, maybe without the striking quirkiness of those before, a magnetic cauldron of sonic imagination and rhythmic dexterity which seals the deal even before the brilliance of the irritable bass and great dissension of the vocals enslave. Its successor is a wonderfully dirty and cantankerous proposal with an addictively contagious swing which continues to infest an evolving landscape of adventure. There is a definite Melvins like ingenuity to the track but similarly echoes of the great music scene in the Medway area of Britain which the band’s line-up has been a major part of in recent times.

Again ultimately, the track is individual to Exoskeletons, a trait all songs process as shown yet unsurprisingly by next up Cicadas which is a more subdued proposition in nature to its companions but one rich in enticing hooks and dramatic ideation. Attention is putty in its hands and a greed for more overwhelming and fully fed by successor Show. It’s almost tempestuous start quickly turns to a bold saunter with another highly flirtatious bassline and spirited beats aligned to Webster’s suggestive guitar weaving and vocal dynamics. It too is low on the aggression of previous tracks but high on imposing enterprise and a flavoursome mix of imaginative post and noise punk tenacity.

The penultimate track is Dust; an expected atmospheric indeed haunting piece of sci-fi bred AI suggestiveness. Minimalistic but very potent, it has the imagination at play before the album reveals its best track to bring things to an enthralling close. Wild Swimmers is simply immense and for personal tastes leaves everything before it, and a heady collection of songs they are too, in its wake. From a distance it flows in with bass and sonic intrigue to the fore; both essences soon uniting with the most delicious hook nurtured melody. Alongside, a nagging tide of riffs work away, always there enticing even as the track twists through its unpredictable landscape. Bevan’s bass is once more manna to ears, its grumbling exploits as eventful and persuasive as the lithe rhythmic craft of Bonner and Webster’s resourceful sonic painting. Add the ever captivating vocal strengths of the band and you have a feast for the ear and a song which suggests we, as the band, have so much more to discover ahead with the Exoskeletons imagination.

Because of the Get Lost EP and the previous exploits of its band members which we previously got hooked on, we expected to find plenty to enjoy within We Are Here To Make Things Better but not to the lustful extent we did. Quite simply the album and band back up the declaration of its title in one of the year’s major highlights.

We Are Here To Make Things Better is released November 10th on Skingasm Records.

UpcomingTour Dates

19/10 – Maidstone – Drakes

03/11 – Ramsgate Music Hall

17/11 – Manchester – Fallows Cafe

18/11 – Leeds – Tbc

23/11 – Camden, London – Our Black Heart (album launch show)

22/12 – Chatham – Poco Loco

http://weareexoskeletons.com/    https://www.facebook.com/weareexoskeletons/    https://twitter.com/weexoskeletons    https://weareexoskeletons.bandcamp.com/

Pete RingMaster 25/10/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Dead Cross- Self Titled

Pic SAWA

As the world seemingly surges rather than drifts into bedlam it is maybe not surprising that a sound is rising to echo it’s chaotic and discord fuelled order. It resonates from the creative union within Dead Cross, a project said to have emerged “out of a series of impractical schemes, fallen-through plans, and last-minute musical experimentation.” Featuring the combined acclaimed talent and creative ingenuity of Dave Lombardo (ex-Slayer, Suicidal Tendencies, Misfits), Mike Patton (Faith No More, Tomahawk, Mr. Bungle, Fantômas….), Justin Pearson (The Locust, Retox), and Michael Crain (Retox, Festival of Dead Deer), Dead Cross has just released their self-titled debut album; a deviously manipulative and skilfully conjured tempest of noise and intent, simply manic manna for the senses and imagination.

There really is no need to provide background to the members of Dead Cross, each individually and within a mass of bands having set down incitements and inspirations so many have fed upon and blossomed their own ventures with. So it is straight to the first breath of the foursome’s first release we go and the initial sonic mist of Seizure and Desist. From its midst surging raw riffs and rampaging rhythms burst, their assault soon joined by the distinctive and ever rapaciously mercurial vocals of Patton. Just as recognisable are the dynamically imaginative and textile swings of Lombardo; his anthemically biting incitement entangled in the sonic rapacity of Crain and the grumbling bestial tones of Pearson’s bass. A senses crumbling assault of hardcore, he track is as multi-flavoured as it is uncompromisingly furious and a hint of the developing web of noise and varied rock ‘n’ roll infesting the punk heart of the release.

The following Idiopathic even further harries and bullies the senses, its rhythms fuelling a barbarous catchiness which spreads to the united vocal attack and raw tone and causticity of the outstanding track. Unpredictability is as rampant as animosity, mischievous craft and fun equally as bold within the senses ravishing, body inciting maelstrom. Every passing second brings a fresh breath of bold and devilish adventure, the track a dancing predator by the time it makes way for the waspish nagging and unrelenting beating of Obedience School. It is glorious stuff, barbarous and harmonically bewitching leaving a tapestry of punk, alternative metal, and gothic rock suggestion.

Shillelagh is simply punk rock yet hardcore unafraid to embrace the spices of other pungent flavours to its infectious animus; the result a venomous contagion which has the body bouncing and appetite drooling before the imagination is enslaved all over again by a riveting cover of the Bauhaus classic Bela Lugosi’s Dead. Infesting it with the kind of energy and boisterousness felt at the Batcave venue back in the day, Dead Cross ensure the shadows and haunting atmosphere of the original are still an invasive temptation; Crain casting veins of melodic acidity which alone beguiles the senses.

The caustic invasion of Divine Filth hits the spot dead centre right after too, Patton and co vocally swinging from imagination’s rafters as the music around them throws itself around like an imaginatively manic dervish, again every passing second bringing new twists and expectations destroying adventure. Grave Slave is equally as tenacious in tone and intent, the Suicidal Tendencies exploits of Lombardo seemingly inspiring the whole of Dead Cross as they funk out with raw intensity and rancorous resourcefulness whilst equally embracing a Melvins meets early Therapy? like friction. It is a highly addictive proposal within an album similarly growing drug like in its temptation.

The persistent creative harassment of The Future Has Been Cancelled matches the lure and entrapment of its predecessor with its own individual and increasingly ravenous quicksand of sound and invention, at one point sinking into a quagmire of heavy seduction before bursting out with its instinctive rabid virulence of energy and sound to head towards the waiting heavy set jaws of Gag Reflex. It too meanders and dashes through a landscape of evolving gaits and twisted manhandling of the listener; each turn increasing its magnetism and our subservience to its manipulation.

The industrially lined shadows of Church of the Motherfuckers brings the album to a mighty conclusion, the track lumbering along with a primal swagger as resonating beauty glistens in its atmosphere. On the ground irritability guides the tempestuous exploits of the track, its climate remaining relatively clam but around a volatile heart which beats with combustibility. Through it all Lombardo springs a rhythmic trap which enslaves body and spirit, his creative mastery the last word in persuasion as the album comes to a thrilling close.

The tag super-group is bound to accompany many references to Dead Cross but ignore them. The band is a real and potent new force in its own right, yes embracing the previous experiences and exploits of its creators but offering something very different and exciting to rival and outshine most hardcore/punk noise exploits around them.

The Dead Cross album is out now via Ipecac Recordings through most stores.

https://www.facebook.com/deadcrossofficial/

Pete RingMaster 08/08/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright