Battalion Zośka – Self Titled

Like all instinctive punk fans seventies punk and eighties hardcore will always fuel the passions no matter what major moments which have and will continue to follow that defining moment in time. There is no doubting that it is the same for Philadelphia hailing Battalion Zośka; all the evidence raising and roaring aggressive irritation within the band’s self-titled debut album. But there is no mistaking that its 13 slices of sonic and defiant belligerence are far more than echoes of inspirations and other’s glories. The album is a fresh breath and striking protagonist embracing the seeds which fired up us all decades past.

Formed in 2018, Battalion Zośka features members of hardcore punk outfits Violent Society and Combat Crisis and their sound provides a politically charged trespass as aggressively catchy as it is emotionally dissonant. Rhythms unapologetically bite as riffs harass and curse alongside similarly tetchy vocals, the hooks and enterprise conjured just as fractious and irresistible within one magnificent, rousing debut.

The quintet of Pat, Jim, Johnny, Jonas, and Milo set down the tone and character of the album from its first breath, opener A Country Divided rhythmically teasing attention before being entwined in alluring wires of guitar. The song soon hits its stride, threat and disobedience lining every note and subsequent syllable as inbred catchiness equally shapes its rousing incitement. With a great whiff of Angelic Upstarts meets The Lurkers to it and featuring the first of two guest appearance from Black Flag/ Misfits guitarist Dez Cadena, the track lone tells you all you need to know about the band’s sound and album, both swiftly compelling assaults.

Arm Everyone follows bringing an even thicker dissent and trespass to the senses; its hardcore breeding hungry and ill-tempered in its uprising while the album’s title track thrusts forward with rampant muscle and uncompromising resistance as an Exploited meets UK Subs hued subversion arouses. It is fair to say that together the three tracks had ears and appetite enslaved but the third truly sealed the deal.

Next up, Heather was no light weight in that union either, its strands of melodic wiring a delicious itch in the rich infectious nagging of the track. The song brings another guest to the release in the ever potent craft of Neil Newton, the Angelic Upstarts guitarist also giving fiercer flaming to Moral Coward two encounters later, that song a dirtily cantankerous seventies ripe invasion. In between the equally outstanding Island of the Lost Souls stamped its commanding authority on ears, every rhythmic swing an enticing bitch slap and chord a caustic tempting as it builds towards a chorus which just had body and throat bounding forward.

The subsequent assails of Oi! By Numbers and Sold & Bought did nothing to lessen the album’s grip; the first, an undisguised attack within a familiar yet unique sonic pillory with its successor a virulent Crisis-esque transgression. Each simply pummelled the spot before being rapaciously matched by the esurient assault and arousing of 80’s Kid, the song sharing the second ear grabbing appearance of Cadena.

A pop punk essence helps blossom even greater temptation within Once Again, its untamed Vibrators meets Adicts breeding an anthemic tonic for the spirit while the equally galvanic rallying of No More and Scum of the Streets with its feral indeed predacious stalking and sonic hounding only accentuated the impressive and inspiring body and disagreement of the album.

Completed by the carousing punk ‘n’ roll of The Beer Song, the Battalion Zośka album is simply punk rock at its most honest, uncomplicated yet imaginatively bred best. Expect to hear a lot more of the band as once its full-length stirs up a punk uprising of attention and lusty support they will have little choice but to submit to demand.

The Battalion Zośka album is released this June via Violated Records; available at http://www.violatedrecords.com/ and https://battalionzoska.bandcamp.com/album/battalion-zo-ka

https://www.facebook.com/Battalionzoska/

Pete RingMaster 03/06/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Scabby Ghouls – Self Titled

Though horror punk is never slow in providing new excursions to venture six feet under with, of which many bring great memorable pleasure, there have not been quite so many in recent times to truly get the teeth into with sanguinary lustfulness. The Scabby Ghouls and their self-titled debut album is one such incitement, a collection of pulp horror driven devilry to bless any meeting of The Monster Club.

Hailing from Omaha, The Scabby Ghouls have dug up a sound as pop contagious as it is horror bloodied and punk driven; a mixture which if not on the major side of unique is fully immersed in the fresh and irresistible within their first full-length.

The album claws out from its mausoleum with opener Body Surfin’, immediately enveloping ears in dark mischief carrying drama as guitar lures mix with the voluptuous throb of the bass. The rolling beats of Nathan Christensen swiftly join and steer the incursion on ears and imagination as too the instantly alluring tones of vocalist/rhythm guitarist Denise Hazard. In no time the web of temptation becomes an appetite embroiling bedlam of creative mania entangled in the equally unhinged grooves and wires of guitarist Louie Hazard. Like a disembodied hand haunting Christopher Lee, the song stalks and fingers with increasing relish and like the big white lingering below its surface has no qualm about taking a more than welcome bite.

The great start is only escalated by the song named after the band. It too prowls the listener, checking them out before springing to its bold feet and instantly indulging in a rapacious saunter. With an essence which reminds of UK outfit Trioxin Cherry at times, the track is equipped with inescapable hooks and teasing riffs matched in temptation by vocals and the great throbbing bait escaping Alex Steffens’ bass. It all comes with a feral lining which is even more pronounced in next up Midwest Zombies, yet a raw wildness which only seems to enhance the instinctive virulence and catchiness of tracks let alone the individual prowess of the quartet.

Black Dahlia Bombshell is next up and soon eclipses its predecessor with its blood-lusting stalking and the subsequent rousing incitement of its viscera driven chorus. The track is pure horror punk wickedness resembling something inspired by the song books of early Misfits and Frankenstein Drag Queens from Planet 13 but quickly established as individual to The Scabby Ghouls before Dreaddy Krueger unleashes its own viral sonic blood-letting shaped by inescapable infernal hooks, rapacious riffs, and rhythms which twist the body like a puppet.

As potent and manipulative as both songs are, their ability to trespass and make the body do their bidding pales to the dexterity of the EP’s final and best tracks. Road Ragin’ is simply glorious, an insatiable surge of tarmac tearing, contagion loaded rock ‘n’ roll with a chorus which infests vocal chords within its first few words. The incitement musically is just as devious and enslaving while album closer, Knife Fight, is an old school punk nurtured holler taking in all-comers with voracious irritability to its infection loaded rumble.

Anticipation for the next endeavour from a band is nothing new or particularly rare but not often it comes with a side line of drool like that already escaping the wait for the next spook animated horror show from The Scabby Ghouls.

 The Scabby Ghouls album is out now via Out-O-Tune Records; available @ https://thescabbyghouls.bandcamp.com/album/the-scabby-ghouls

https://www.facebook.com/TheScabbyGhouls/

 Pete RingMaster 21/03/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Warish – Self Titled EP

Like a crawling yet animated pestilence, comes a sound and aural ruin which infests the senses like a carnivorous scourge; a sonic trespass which within the debut release from US outfit Warish rises up as one highly fascinating and seriously enticing affair.

Formed by guitarist/vocalist Riley Hawk and drummer Bruce McDonnell, the 2018 emerging SoCal based band has seen a bit of a buzz brewing around it and it is easy to hear why across the five tracks making up the first Warish EP. It is a ravenously malignant and carnally caliginous invasion as visceral as it is fearsomely compelling; a raw gripping trespass bred from a fusion of raw horror punk, sludge infested grunge and feral noise punk.

The EP took a mere breath to assault and stir ears and appetite through opener Bones, its initial riff struck bait the first thick lure in a voracious tide of punk ‘n’ roll. The effect tampered vocals only add to the already persuasive hell spawned temptation immersing track and listener, the threat and nag of rhythms escalating the insurgent swing and sonic infestation of the song’s slavery. Akin to a feral mix of The Scaners and The Hangmen in league with The Horrors and Misfits both in their formative years, the track effortlessly enslaved as too its successor which rises up from the sonic bridge between the two.

Riding in on a manipulative tide of rhythms, Voices quickly took control with its untamed groove and concussive attack easily sparking another round of lust with its inhuman exploits before Fight brings its own magnetic personality to proceedings. There is a mutual bedevilment and nightmare to the first pair of tracks even in their individuality but their successor reveals a whole fresh aspect to the Warish sound and adventure with melodic and psych rock imagination. It still has the punk and metal nurtured hues but entangled in a broader flavouring of styles and twisted enterprise.

The final pair of Human Being and Shivers similarly adds their own particular differences; the first seemingly fed on the riffs of Black Sabbath and the second seeded in old school punk subsequently soaked in the hellacious corrosiveness of stoner rock, heavy metal, and surf punk. Neither quite exploited the passions as the first trio of tracks but both easily escalated the lure and enjoyment of the debut Warish EP; and joined all in inspiring a hunger for plenty more from the rather exciting, potential strapped band.

The Warish EP is out now on 7” vinyl and download through RidingEasy; available @ https://www.ridingeasyrecs.com/product/warish-7/ and https://warish.bandcamp.com/releases

 

https://www.facebook.com/Warishband/

Pete RingMaster 12/02/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Motel Transylvania – Self Titled

We have not been alone in brewing eager anticipation for the debut album of Italian horrorbillies Motel Transylvania having been infected by the sounds of their They Dig After Midnight EP of 2015 as well as the numerous appearances the band has made on various compilations. Four years or so in the making finally that first full-length has crawled from the corridors of the band’s darkest corners and we can tell you it has been well worth the wait.

Formed in 2013 as a solo project of stand-up drummer/vocalist Toxi Ghoul, Motel Transylvania swiftly became a trio which unleashed a well-received debut single in the ghoulish romance of It’s not so bad. The release of They Dig After Midnight in turn established the Savona trio as a band with a potent sound and creative character equipped with the potential of bigger bolder things ahead. Their self-titled debut album realises plenty of that intimation without exhausting all the possibilities of even greater exploits ahead. Across thirteen views from the mausoleum, the album presents a multi-flavoured proposal embracing everything from horror punk and psychobilly to vintage rock ‘n’ roll, punk rock, and other death strewn hues.

It opens up with the portentously atmospheric Called, an invitation into the album’s crypt as intimidating as it is cinematically irresistible. The piece enticingly opens the gateway to the carnal goodness to come starting with Destination. The gorgeous rockabilly groove which harkens its trespass was enough to enslave attention, a submission swiftly rewarded by Toxi’s senses clipping beats and the dark upright bass grumble cast by Fish “The Scarecrow”. The guitar of Taison Gore continues to spin a web of temptation throughout only dropping its raised adrenaline for a breath to be taken before striking up again with salacious intent before the drummer’s lead vocals share their raw scowls. It is an excellent full start to the release and taster of the band’s richly flavoured and varied sound.

The following track shares the band and the album’s name, Motel Transylvania a rousing slice of horror punk with an early Misfits lilt within a labyrinth of psycho and rockabilly taunting. The predacious trespass of the rhythms and vocal causticity steals the show within a track which quickly left its indelible mark before Her Last Boogie launched its raw rock ‘n’ roll stomp on ears with zeal and increasing enterprise. A blend of the feral and the melodically precise, the track is a slice of death boogie needing little time to get punk hips whipped up.

The outstanding Drowning gives warning enough with its bass bred jaws lure before breaking upon the rocks with its blood tainted surf rock groove and barbarous intent while The Night of the Living Dead speeds rather than lumbers through ears with its The Order Of The Fly-esque stalking though the result is still an inescapable rock ‘n’ roll nagging of ears and the imagination. Both tracks add new shades to the album’s adventure and to the unfolding tales of terror; each new pleasure to devour though both are outshone by 4 and its Mad Sin meets Tiger Army like psychobilly shimmer, the albums best track.

The ghostly plains of Beyond The Lights comes next, its unearthly throes psych rock kissed seduction evolving a carnival of fevered temptation before slipping back into its ethereal decay, while its successor, It’s Not So Bad, coaxes ears with its puckered rockabilly lures before erupting in a punk nurtured hostility, repeating the cycle with greater imagination and psychosis. At every turn the track twists into unexpected escapades increasing its magnetism every step of the way.

Continuing the great multi-textured web of sounds within the album, A Place To End embraces Latin/mariachi hues to its Koffin Kats spiced uproar while the following Dead N’ Proud howls like a psychobilly inspired Frankenstein Drag Queens From Planet 13. In turn the simply superb STOMP! Cockroaches stamps around with a great Demented Are Go inspired irritability, these three alone showing the broad landscape of sound within the Motel Transylvania bloodlust.

I Wanna Be Your Ghoul completes the release, the song another psychobilly nurtured tempting under sweltering skies; gallows rock which has the body swinging as firmly as the cadaverous romance it shares.

It is a fine end to a record which certainly pleased and had praise leaving lips on the first listen but has blossomed to far greater heights and persuasion with every subsequent venture through its sonic charnel house.

The Motel Transylvania album is out now through Undead Artists and Archetype Records.

 https://www.facebook.com/moteltransylvania/    https://twitter.com/MotelTransylvan

 Pete RingMaster 15/11/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Horror Vision – Final Broadcast

As anyone, we have certain regular cravings here at The RR, one being for rabidly ravenous horrorpunk. It is a hunger that has to date been richly satisfied through Germany based label Undead Artists and continues through its latest offering. Founded by Johnny Rose, also the frontman of the formidable Blast Bomb, the label has unleashed the debut album from fellow country ghouls Horror Vision. Offering up ten tracks which prey on the senses as they arouse the spirit, Final Broadcast is an appetite filling anthology of punk infested horror rock ‘n’ roll.

Hailing from Ulm and consisting of vocalist/guitarist Evelyn van Bytingale, vocalist/bassist Andrew Lycanhead, and drummer Dr. Combat, Horror Vision lure ears and imagination into their cinematically inspired first full-length through an Intro setting the listener at the melodic heart of a brewing bedlam. Its sonic drifting eventually leads to the vintage invitation of the Godzilla feature King Of The Monsters. The track is an adrenaline driven punk roar, grooves and aggression entangled in a combative stomp where everything from riffs and bass grooving to predatory vocals and venomously swinging rhythms unite in a raucous trespass.

The following Ghosts Of Mars is just as tenacious and thickly enjoyable, its opening bass groove alone enough to have ears gripped. The subsequent lustful prowl of riffs and rhythms only added to the temptation as too the sonic wiring which veins the combined nagging. It is a raw yet seductive mix escalated by the rousing vocals embracing the same aspects.

Critters gnawed away at the passions next; again grooves getting under the skin before its more primal instincts expose the punk hunger of the track accompanied by an early Misfits meets Frankenstein Drag Queens from Planet 13 flavouring before Need For Meat reveals its fifties rock ‘n’ roll penchant. That is soon consumed by the ferocious punk nature and intent of a song though which is as infectiously catchy as it is persistently hostile.

Through the feral Balzac-esque holler of The Thing and the rockabilly nurtured Vampire Waltz, new shades in the Horror Vision creative psychosis uncage their taunting, each leaving the appetite hungry for more while Bathory lets its own individual hard rock laced bloodlust loose to equally persuasive and ferocious effect.

The punk ‘n’ roll harassment of We’re Gonna Get You is untamed catchiness which had the body bouncing and vocal chords roaring with ease, individual prowess uniting for an anthemic scourge before Calling Me Monster closes things up with its carnivorously predacious sounds and character. As all tracks, it demanded and received mutual participation whilst inflaming our instinctive horrorpunk urges.

There is definitely something of the familiar and the individual about Final Broadcast but a mix which left us beyond content and already greedy for much more from the bedevilment going under the name of Horror Vision.

Final Broadcast is out now via Undead Artists @ https://horrorvision.bandcamp.com/releases

https://www.facebook.com/horrorvision.horrorpunk/

Pete RingMaster 02/11/2018

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

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