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

Loom – Self Titled

Photo by Kurt Fairbairn

With quite simply raw rock ‘n’ roll nurturing its heart, the debut album from UK band Loom takes ears through every shade of punk rock you can imagine within its ten track confines. It is an adventure which has the imagination fired up, ears burning with ardour, and aggressive tendencies bubbling to the surface in a striking and rousing incitement of a self-titled proposal. Each song as suggested reveals a new aspect in its furious landscape yet brews a united character distinct to a band and release which just commands attention.

Leamington Spa hailing, the trio of Tarik Badwan, Matt Marsh, and Joshua Fitzgerald took little time in attracting ears and praise with their early releases including a pair of well-received EPs within their first year. The second of 2013 featured six covers of songs from the strongest inspirations for the band in its early days, The Jesus Lizard, Bad Brains, Pixies, GG Allin, Misfits, and Warsaw. Alongside the other encounters, it sparked support from the likes of Zane Lowe and Daniel P Carter at BBC Radio 1as well as laying the first steps in a springboard for Loom live to support The Rolling Stones at Hyde Park and tour the UK and Germany with artists such as Frank Carter & The Rattlesnakes, Queen Kwong, and Turbowolf.

The band’s first album is not slow in suggesting those influences in its multi-flavoured roar, as mentioned each song distinct from the next but there is a vein of unique Loom-ness running through all which we would suggest goes beyond the cohesion of aggression suggested by its press release. It opens up with Lice, a sonic itch you just cannot scratch enough to escape from. Its initial glaze to an instantly robust sound has a gothic/indie rock spicing, coming over like a blend of Leitmotiv and The Victorian English Gentlemens Club before its grouchy rock ‘n’ roll instincts burst free. It is a glorious nagging of the senses and imagination taking magnetic twists along its contagious enmity of sound and attitude.

The great start continues as firstly Hate imposingly shimmers with electronic radiance upon grunge bred antipathy to be followed by the rousing exploits of Get A Taste. There is a whiff of Pere Ubu for these ears to the first song but a thicker Nirvana like causticity to its nature and again niggling potency. Embracing garage punk confrontation too, the track stirs ears and appetite with ease, a triumph matched by its successor with its old school punk meets seventies garage rock growl as demandingly catchy as it is openly crotchety.

Grunge colludes with post punk for the feistily prowling Leopard, guitars winding spicy tendrils lined with delicious discord around ears as rhythms reveal a rapacious nature to their drive before Salt entangles the imagination in a fusion of Joy Division post punk and the irritable punk rock of The Stooges with just a tang of psych rock bewitchment. It is an enthralling mix opening new aspects with each passing flick of a chord and sonic detour yet throughout a fluid tart snarl never deviating from its quarrel.

Seasick bawls as its stalks ears with predacious intent straight after; indie rock merging with raw hardcore ill-temper in a track which steals the passions within seconds. Vocals are as unpredictable and instinctively volatile as the sonic flames cast by the guitar and indeed the rhythmic jabbing around them. With the bass a brooding threat within the tempestuous joy crowding and seducing ears, the track makes a big play for best track glory but is quickly challenged by the muggy grunge venting of Bleed On Me and eclipsed by the glorious dark deeds of the band’s latest single, Nailbender. The latter is a compelling caliginous seduction of gothic and punk metal; like Type O Negative fused with Descendents and 1919 yet still emerging as something unique and gripping to Loom.

The punk grouse of Barbed Wire grabs something from all decades of punk since the sixties whilst in finishing up the album Slowly Freezing Heart crawls across the senses in a kaleidoscope of sonic toxicity and shadow loaded rhythms united with vocal psychosis. Both tracks are treats greed gets the better of composure over while bringing one superb album to a memorable and rousing end. Listening to Loom you get the feeling that the band creates on instinct, not searching for a sound but letting it find them and infusing their music with its own unique character. The album reminds of numerous artists across its riveting body but never comes over as anything other than the offspring of Loom, the first of many more belligerently sculpted and physically visceral gems we hope and suspect.

The Loom album is released May 19th via Silent Cult across most stores.

https://www.facebook.com/Loomband/    https://twitter.com/loomband

Pete RingMaster 17/05/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Cavaverman – Women, Monsters & Cazzottis

After the acclaim lured by their album Tales From Cavafistool around Europe, Italian horror punks Cavaverman release their new EP, Women, Monsters & Cazzottis. Offering three tracks as a name your own price download, their latest encounter is equally as irresistible with the band stretching their sound to embrace an even richer array of flavours in its rock ‘n’ roll stomp. It builds on the last album with relish and enterprise with suggestive hints of where the band is going next.

Hailing from Monza, the trio of guitarist/vocalist Sal Champion, bassist Apocalypse Giò, and drummer Doktor Hell draw on the inspiration of bands such as The Ramones, Misfits, Alkaline Trio, and Entombed for their own enjoyably raw yet adventurous sound. A trio of albums in Dead Brains For Brain Dead, James Dead, and the aforementioned Tales From Cavafistool have more than marked Cavaverman out from the crowd and the Undead Artists released Women, Monsters & Cazzottis is no different.

It opens with Deadly Touch, a track featuring the potent vocals of Irene from Milan punks Viboras. The song itself is the punks inside Cavaverman coming to the fore; its horror punk ’n’ roll mixing with punk metal tendencies to unleash something akin to UK’s Trioxin Cherry meeting US bands Mongrel and Calabrese. From its first breath, the track stomps with attitude and an infectious lilt, the vocal union of Sal and Irene ear grabbing with the latter just as potent when tempting alone. Instinctive grooves and nagging hooks only add to the thick lure of the antagonism soaked song before Jamie Sommers steps forward.

The second song has a calmer persona, its psychobilly nurtured stroll and hearty croon showing a new maturity in the Cavaverman songwriting. Of course there is a snarl in the belly but one restrained as guitars weave their sultry serenade within a coarser tide of riffs and swinging rhythms. As the first, it is a richly magnetic affair captivating ears and imagination with swift ease before King of Cazzottis concludes the EP with its hard rock meets horror punk stomp. There is a healthy spice of pop punk to the chorus of the song too, another flavour in its bold mix needing little time to have body and vocal involvement from the listener on board.

Women, Monsters & Cazzottis is a band doing what they do best, unleashing instinctive rock ‘n’ roll whilst involving sound and creativity in new textures and explorations. There are surprises and plenty of familiar essences colluding in a slice of Cavaverman goodness which gets better and more tempting with every listen.

Women, Monsters & Cazzottis is out now through Undead Artists as a name your price download @ https://undeadartists.bandcamp.com/album/women-monsters-cazzottis  or https://cavaverman.bandcamp.com/album/women-monsters-and-cazzottis

https://www.facebook.com/Cavaverman/

Pete RingMaster 09/05/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Deadite – The Damned

cover_RingMasterReview

After a fine year for the label, Hamburg based Undead Artists have got its successor off in fine style with the release of The Damned by Belgian horror punks Deadite. The album is a multi-flavoured roar blending strains of psychobilly, rock ‘n’ roll, and other ravenous textures into horror fuelled punk rock. It makes for a tantalising and captivating proposal becoming more compelling with every listen.

Hailing from Hamme, the quartet of Scarecrow, Wolfben, EvilOnly, and Von Nekromance have persistently stirred attention and eager support at home and further afield but for a great many The Damned will be an introduction; one sure to keep their ‘secrecy’ no longer.

From the cinematic Intro, the release roars into view with The Shadows and a surge of classic rock ‘n’ roll chords. It is the lead into a stomping charge of senses whipping rhythms and toxic grooves as vocals melodically growl. Psychobilly and horror punk collude as the track throws its lustful energy and sounds around, making for a potent start to the album though soon eclipsed by the outstanding Age Of Violence. With belligerence oozing from every note and vocal breath, the track’s nagging riffs and attitude loaded bassline alone seizes the passions, raw vocal antagonism and rhythmic trespasses reinforcing its punk rock lure as spicy grooves ignite.

The album’s title track steps forward next, its brooding climate and Tiger Army like air quickly seducing ears and imagination. Vocals too have a calmer presence and resonance which just adds to the haunting charm and atmosphere of the encounter resulting in the release stepping up another notch in impressiveness again.

Cored by a tangy hook, Collector grabs the appetite straight away next, its Rezurex/Plan 9 like stroll simultaneously menacing and infectious and the swinging relentless beats a greed inducing pressure while the following Show Me Some Love has a touch of Batmobile meets Misfits to it. The song is an equally predacious and virulent persuasion to the former with rhythms once more an irresistible infestation of body and instincts.

Pussywhipped shares its fifties breeding with relish after them; country seeds open within the excellent old school stomp before Empty Heart romances the senses with its sultry melodies and vocal croon. Rhythms and riffs insert the tenacious energy which instinctively flows from the band with Calabrese spiced enterprise playing around their eagerness throughout. The pair alone shows the variety in the Deadite sound, a diversity not always making big steps but certainly providing a broad and flavoursome adventure to get hooked on.

That bait continues through the feistier muscular throes of Damnation and the predatory prowl of The Taker, another track sparking references to the likes of Calabrese and Tiger Army within its own bold character. The Mark Of Cain after them though is proud to wear its inspirations boldly, the song a mix of Misfits and Samhain and also easy to breed greed for.

Roadkill is a grouchy assault of punk and hard rock whipping up rich satisfaction next, its success matched by the similarly punk driven Same Shit Different Day offering a minute and half of intrusively catchy rock ‘n’ roll before Cursed brings the whole pleasurable time to a close with its smouldering psychobilly serenade.

It is a great end to an impressive and richly enjoyable release; not quite a classic but not far off from a band with the potential for such a genre igniting proposal in their growing imagination.

The Damned is out now through Undead Artists @ https://undeadartists.bandcamp.com/album/the-damned

https://www.facebook.com/pg/deadite138   http://www.deadite.be/

Pete RingMaster 02/03/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Dearly Beloved – Admission

 

beloved-12_RingMasterReview

It would have been hard to imagine Canadian band, Dearly Beloved majorly outdoing their last album Enduro at the time of its release, it one glorious slice of garage rock inspired sound built on instinctive and striking imagination, but they have done just that with its successor Admission. If there is such a thing as the perfect record, Dearly Beloved come so close with their new offering. Yet again the band recruits and manipulates the imagination with their sonic tapestries, embracing even greater adventure and variety whilst fully uncaging their rock ‘n’ roll instincts. If the last album was glorious, Admission is majestic; quite simply a primal and ingeniously conjured, addiction sparking roar.

As with its predecessor, the Toronto based band leapt upon and recorded fifth full-length Admission in quick time, using up fourteen days at Dave Grohl’s Studio 666. As ever centered around the vocal pairing of bassist Rob Higgins and Niva Chow, the quartet linked up with produced Daniel Rey (Ramones and Misfits) to record the album, using the famed, 70s era Neve 8028 analogue console that spawned Nirvana’s Nevermind. The result is a proposition which grips ears with vice like tempting while taking feet, hips, and rock ‘n’ roll instincts on a ride of their life.

RIP kicks things off, instantly chaining attention and an eager appetite because of previous successes with a grumbling yet vibrant bassline matched by senses rapping beats. A momentary breath uncages a torrent of hungry riffs and antagonistic rhythms, that in turn the prelude for a controlled yet ferocious rock roar. It is a fiery incitement perfectly contrasted rather than tempered by the warm inviting tones of Higgins and Chow, together a riveting lure in the creative storm. More virulent than the common cold, the track is pure dominance, irresistibly enslaving hips and feet as easily as ears and emotions.

The sensational start is more than matched by These Data, it too fleecing the passions with an opening lure of bass, a swinging groove woven coaxing infesting the psyche as a sonic shimmer sizzles around it. Beats dance with creative tenacity around that prime draw, Higgins again vocally captivating with Chow a similarly magnetic support as the track rumbles and grumbles. It is riveting stuff with guitars adding a great sour spicing to the mix as punk and grunge essences join the garage rock natured proposal.

admission1_RingMasterReviewI Tried To Leave brings a lighter poppier tone next though bass and drums still have that enjoyable crankiness as the pair explores a more Jane’s Addiction flavoured adventure. Every twist and turn in its intoxicating blaze brings fresh ingredients to devour, a psych rock invention only adding to a mouth-watering stomp before Who Wants to Know turns the album’s charge into a prowling, dark toned trespass. Vocally Higgins and Chow conjure a bewitching union whilst sonically the song sears the senses as rhythms dance on the debris with ridiculously infectious wantonness. A subsequent passage of relative calm enables a blues laced groan to emerge, its restrained air remaining as the track expands again until its volatility surges through ears as Chow’s harmonic lures beckon like a siren.

Through the kinetic punk ‘n’ roll of Strobe-Dosing and the abrasive funk of Currents, band and release use the listener like a puppeteer, the first as much pop natured as punk belligerent as it courses relentlessly like blood through veins into the psyche and passions. Its successor holds back its instinctive urge to career through ears, allowing its rhythmic heart and harmonic beauty to entice the senses like a raw blend of Shriekback and Ex Norwegian though as ever, a Dearly Beloved song is never slow in developing new detours and twists to enjoy.

The garage punk devilry of Blood In The Water provides the next major highlight of Admission, its dark heart and tantalising slow rhythmic prowl almost crawling over the senses as electronics atmospherically play and guitars toxically simmer. As vocals and harmonies radiate and yet another wicked bassline from Higgins grips, the track moves and burns like gothic lava.

Its startling presence is matched by that of Boxing Days straight after, the song aural seduction from its bewitching vocals and crabby bassline to its harmonic romancing and infectious tempestuousness. From a fascinating simmer it grows into a conflagrant eruption of sound and intensity impossible to evade not that you will wish to.

It is fair to say there are no weak moments within Admission; no times it comes close to loosening its masterful hold and creative success as proven once more by the closing creative outcries of When You Had The Choice and Future Shock. The former is a romping slice of rock ‘n’ roll with an unmistakable Foo Fighters like boisterousness and aggression in its punk heart while the latter skilfully blends calm and clamour in its own garage rock/punk driven trespass, each entwining a host of flavours in their spirit rousing traps.

It is very easy to keep heaping more praise upon Admission but the evidence is in the sound and time shared with it, though Dearly Beloved need little of either to convince and prove themselves one of the most exciting bands out there.

Admission is out now via Aporia Records across most online stores and @ https://dearlybeloved.bandcamp.com/album/admission-2

http://www.dearlybelovedmusic.com/    https://www.facebook.com/TheBeloveds/    https://twitter.com/thebeloveds

Pete RingMaster 31/01/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Thirteen Shots – Self Titled

13 Shots_RingMasterReview

Though the band is no longer active, the hunger and want for Thirteen Shots continues to be vocal. The new release of a self-titled compilation album is a dose of their raw and voracious horror punk sure to be devoured and earn many more belated fans as it treats ears to the best of the band as a free proposal. Bringing together fifteen tracks spanning the band’s releases, one previously unreleased track, and an irresistible live take of the band’s mighty track Graveyard Stomp, the album is an offer no fan or horror punk loving newcomer to the British outfit should and will be able to resist.

Formed by the now Hamburg, Germany residing Johnny Rose and featuring Lewis Manchip, George Chick, Joe Dempster, Chelsea McCammon, and Tom Fenn in its line-ups, the Birmingham hailing Thirteen Shots unleashed a distinct and rousing form of rock ‘n’ roll as seeded in sixties garage rock and blues as horror punk itself. From debut album Vaudeville of 2012, through subsequent releases such as Tales That Start With A Whisper the following year, the 2014 White Noise EP, and their final outing through second album Black Smiles last year Thirteen Shots pushed their boundaries and expanded their sound without losing the incisive rough diamond roar which marked them out from day one. The new compilation brings it all into one thrilling place; all together for one final stomp.

First track is the fiery rock ‘n’ roll of Cobradeer, an encounter which flies from the traps, drops into a predacious prowl before bursting into a rush of fiercely slapping rhythms and ferocious riffs led by the distinct vocals of Rose. It provided a rousing introduction to Black Smiles originally and makes the same attention grabbing impact here before passing ears over to the flesh dropping infections of band classic Zombies From The USSR. Cored by a delicious Caped Crusader like hook, the track expels raptorial grooves and vocal incitement in a battle cry/warning rising up against undead hordes which just gets under the skin and into the psyche.

cover_RingMasterReviewThe variety in the band’s sound has been an open book and illustrated in the garage blues blaze of Nekrosexual and the following drama of Bewitched as well as across the album. The first is a scuzzy roar while the second again uncovering a hook which just fits an eager appetite, uncages predatory basslines and irritable riffs as Rose scowls in the colourful horror punk confines of the excellent encounter.

Within the Thirteen Shots catalogue numerous tracks were like beacons to their presence and sound, arguably the most tempting being Danzig. A tribute to the obvious, the song is a swinging punk brawl wearing its influence clearly but casting is own horror punk ‘n’ roll character with more hooks and temptations than a stripper at a fishing convention.

Punk rock in varying degrees is also an ever present in the band’s sound, Get In My Crypt for example simply fuelled by it in its virulent charge wrapped in metallic flames while other songs like Night Of Sin infuses it into their own individual imaginations, it a liquor soaked blues rock proposal with searing grooves and restrained but heavy rhythms. The outstanding Dead Girls Don’t Scream takes the vital essence into a psychobilly spiced romp, like Misfits meets Resurex while wearing a New York Dolls t-shirt. It is also another of those songs which the band is particularly memorable and noted for, a rock ‘n’ roll stomp to get lustful over.

Through the writhing blues grooved Padded Cell Blues, the scuzzy heavy metal Sabbath-esque riff loaded crawl of Doom, and the severely infectious rockabilly lined stroll of First American Sweetheart, the album does what all good compilations should do; reveal and celebrate the depth and invention of its focus. The last of the trio especially whips up the spirit with its hard rock grooves and garage punk contagion offering something akin to Turbonegro meets The Heartbreakers.

Grooves are equally a major tempting within next up Tales That Start With A Whisper, twisting within ears with salacious intent as the track shares classic/glam rock misbehaviour equipped with the spiciest hooks before Black Eyed Girl enters with a flirtatious and slightly sinister prowl like a dark dusted feline seductress swinging melodic hips to blues bred flames.

There have been a few songs from the band too which have blossomed to greater heights over listens rather than with an instantaneous convincing; the raw shuffle of Black Smiles being one which proves its point perfectly amongst its companions on the album though gaining its first ever outing here, Creak’n The Coffin needs little time to grab ears and the passions. A contagious punk driven slab of rock ‘n’ roll, it stomps and roars with all the flavours the band has consistently shown itself so adept at weaving into their raucous proposals.

The album is completed by the sultry blood red romance of Lost Soul with its mariachi laced smoulder and finally that stomping live roar of Graveyard Stomp, which while drawing eager participation, reminds us what we are all missing from the band at each and every venue they graced.

There are certainly tracks we would have added to the album, This Looks Like A Job For Batman for one, but Thirteen Shots is undoubtedly the life and creative voice of the band to a tee and a certain must for all punk ‘n’ roll fans. Go check it out and grab a rare and free treat @ http://thirteenshots.bandcamp.com/ with a possible very ltd edition CD possible if demand is high and similarly a final UK tour from the band if they are wanted; so go tell them @ https://www.facebook.com/thirteenshotsband

Thirteen Shots is also available for FREE from Google Play and available to stream from Spotify and Deezer from Undead Artists.

Pete RingMaster 09/11/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Thee Infecteds – The Macabre Tale Of The Harlots Curse

art_RingMasterReview

Imagine Misfits meets The Meteors with the salacious touch of Demented Are Go and the thumping might of Grumpynators involved and you get a sense of the treat to be found within The Macabre Tale Of The Harlots Curse. The debut album from British rockers Thee Infecteds is a bloody stomp of garage punk and psychobilly; a slab of rock ‘n’ roll weaving its own distinct cavalcade of horror bred escapades from familiar and fresh creative cadavers in sound and enterprise, and one rather irresistible blood lust.

Hailing from Newcastle, emerging from its dark mausoleums this year, Thee Infecteds draw on inspirations from the likes of Johnny Cash, Eddie Cochran, Hank Williams, Link Wray, Wayne Hancock, Motorhead, The Meteors, Demented Are Go, and The Cramps among many sparks for their own rousing exploits. They are flavours which at times openly shape The Macabre Tale Of The Harlots Curse but only add to its swift attraction and lingering hold on ears and imagination.

Playing like an aural Tales From The Crypt, each song an episode of blood and death shown in a theatre from where exits “all go down”, the album gets down to business after the introduction of Feature Presentation with The Harlots Curse. With a great cavernous air to its atmosphere, the track opens on the steely riff of Anth Bundy’s guitar, it soon joined by the menacing kisses of Sean Sinner’s beats and further riffs alongside the intimidation of upright bass slapped by Ruby Morgue. It is a carnivorous proposal guided by the potent tones of vocalist Howlin’ Jimmy, he not so much a barker but a narrator to your demise at the whim of the song’s curse.

It is a rousing start quickly matched by the strolling swagger of The Razors Edge, the song a mix of catchy hooks and fifties rock ‘n’ roll guitar courted by the already irresistible presence of Morgue’s bass. Each plucked string is a dark conspirator for ears and imagination more than matched by the tangy enterprise of pick on string by Bundy and Jimmy’s straight to the point attack. The track is too brief but an unstoppable appetite pleaser before the adrenaline fuelled Creepy Crawler has its moment of attention swiftly sealed. With a bit of Guana Batz to the song, its stomps around with attitude and creative barbs which soon has hips swinging and feet bouncing, Bundy’s salty grooves additional pleasure as the song blossoms on its repetitive character.

Both Skulls and It’s Them! keep the album in top gear and pleasure unbridled, each embracing an unmistakable Misfits influence woven into their own highly addictive and virulently infectious guises before Intermission allows a momentarily breather for mopping up sweat and ice cream. Eager involvement is a given throughout the album but the pair demand and receive some of the most zealous with the second of the two leaving the body breathless.

Never Go To Heaven is a less boisterous incitement next, at least initially, it’s gentle coaxing all melodic seduction and strolling rhythms as Jimmy romps alongside yet one more riveting bass riff as it heads towards a tenaciously feisty shuffle. The track does not quite find all the sparks which ignite its predecessors yet still has voice and body hooked before moving over for the lusty enticement of Lay That Chainsaw Down. Hooks and riffs are an enticement which enslaves the senses and imagination with ease, all teasing within a rolling canter under the commanding guidance of Sinner.

The thumping beats and melodic lures of Happy Jack are also an entanglement impossible to throw off, unbreakable chains further provided by the delicious throb of bass while its thick success is only eclipsed by that of Your Love Makes Me Itch, a song which is pure slavery as its nagging bass rhythms and repetitious hooks play with and seduce the imagination. The song is a web of slimline strands of barb littered lines from all concerned, and a united weave which is as rich and thick in temptation as anything on this and many other genre similar encounters in recent times.

The dirty, dark, and destructive romance of True Love Dies brings the album to a close; a Gene Vincent meets P. Paul Fenech flirtation which just hits the spot dead centre before it is time to make for the Exit and the inevitable journey.

With a real lust for good psychobilly/horror rock incitements here our wants are demanding. The Macabre Tale Of The Harlots Curse delivers on virtually every level whilst providing one seriously rousing and enjoyable excuse to unleash the blood lust.

The Macabre Tale Of The Harlots Curse is out now and available @ https://theeinfecteds.bandcamp.com/album/the-macabre-tale-of-the-harlots-curse

https://www.facebook.com/theeinfecteds/

Pete RingMaster 13/10/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright