Plastic – Drink Sensibly

Last year saw UK outfit Plastic earning strong attention and praise with debut album Here, There Is No Gravity. It was a release though which did not gather the momentum expected to break the band upon major recognition. Taking its predecessor’s attributes to a whole new level the band now has the Drink Sensibly EP to tempt recognition, an aim such its bold adventure it is hard seeing having similar difficulties.

Midlands based, Plastic brew an ear grabbing roar from a fusion of punk, grunge and metal. It has already proven a tempting mix especially courtesy of the band’s first album but has become a far more imaginative and contagious persuasion within Drink Sensibly. There is a richer blend of sound and enterprise in the writing and sound of the three tracks making up the EP which for us puts the definitely easy to devour Here, There Is No Gravity firmly in the shade.

Approaching the subjects of mental decline and self-loathing, the EP opens up with Munchies and immediately commands indeed demands attention as strikes of guitar spring the punchy but melodic tones of Matthew Awbery. Just as quickly the song breaks into a swinging canter, its rhythms knees high as it strides through ears with a swagger soaked in punk fuelled virulence. A noise punk clamour accompanies its emotive defiance, every rhythmic swipe and sonic jab pure virulence as irritability brews, springs, and adds to the rousing tempest.

It is an outstanding start, probably for us the EP’s finest moment but one seriously challenged by its companions starting with Lovesick. The second track wears its grunge breeding more openly but again a new indie pop catchiness soaks the magnet jangle and rousing clamour Plastic create. With a Nirvana meets Green Day spicing to its contagion, the song had the body bouncing as eagerly and high as its own melodic jounce; joyfulness lining every essence surrounding melancholy spun emotive reflection.

Spit completes the pleasure; the final song a noise rock twisted slab of grunge punk throwing its rhythmic limbs around like a spinning dervish as riffs and hooks harass and tease. Feral yet deviously conjured in ear tempting texture and turn, the track is pure punk ‘n’ roll flirtation which had ears groaning at its and the EP’s too soon a passing as fingers raced to press play all over again.

If the first Plastic album sparked your appetite, Drink Sensibly will simply inflame a fresh hunger while surely enticing a whole horde of newcomers to one increasingly exciting and thrilling band.

Drink Sensibly is available now.

https://www.facebook.com/plasticbanduk/

Pete RingMaster 29/05/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Bastard Disco – China Shipping

Maybe more recognised for its metal diversity and prowess, over the years we have found that the Polish independent music scene breeds some rather fine propositions within other musical flavours. The latest to come to our attention is the noise rock fuelled alternative rock of Bastard Disco and particularly their new album, China Shipping. Across nine ear grabbing tracks, the Warsaw quartet’s sophomore full-length is a magnetic affair as raw and hungry as it is melodically seductive; one of those encounters you cannot help taking real notice of.

Formed in 2015, Bastard Disco finds inspiration in the likes of Fugazi, Quicksand, Smashing Pumpkins, Sonic Youth, and The Pixies for their own individual sound. 2017 saw the well-received release of debut album Warsaw Wasted Youth via Poland’s oldest independent label, Antena Krzyku. The band has united with the label once again for China Shipping, a release swiftly engaging ears with opener Sophia. The coaxing grooves of guitarist Kamil Fejfer lay down a potent lure, the accompanying grumble of Paweł Cholewa’s bass and the swinging beats of Marek Kamiński soon eagerly accentuating the early temptation. As vocalist Yuri Kasianenko’s melodic tones join the captivation, the track almost haunts the imagination, its hooks and quickly established enterprise proving very easy to devour.

Future Crimes follows, opening with the great dirty growl of Cholewa’s bass before contrasting its grumble with the melodic jangle of guitar. As with its predecessor, familiar essences collude with bold fresh endeavour to create an individual character and presence; its melodic and harmonic boisterousness adding to that distinctiveness. There is a sonic mugginess to song and sound too which similarly just lured ears in and though maybe missing the striking hooks of the opener, the track effortlessly held court before Time Traveller offered up its own humid noise cultured breath. Something akin to Dinosaur Jr meets Big Black the song proved increasingly compelling and contagious as it nagged an already eagerly involved appetite.

Next up is Clear!, a slice of scuzzy indie rock with punk voracity to its infectious holler. Its highly potent persuasion soon matched by that crafted by the outstanding Shining Confidence. The track was pure fascination, its melodic seduction and sultry climate a mesmeric setting for the track’s devilish groove spun chorus. It is another with familiar elements but never proved anything but unique to Bastard Disco while Ministry of Self-Defence emulated that originality straight after with its own sonically dissonant bounce and confrontation. Ferocious yet melodically seductive, feral but craftily conjured, the track provides another particularly compelling highlight before Game of Patriots stole the show. Its first breaths bring the hypnotic coaxing of Kamiński’s beats, every subsequent one exposing his manipulative dexterity as the equally nefariously antics of bass and guitar just enforce the track’s virulence. Kasianenko is just as magnetic alongside their tenacious enterprise, providing further impassioned flaming to the song’s fiery eruptions.

The closing pair of Sink or Swim and B-side Son ensure China Shipping leaves as potently as it arrives, the first enjoying the union of a grumble dark rhythmic incitement and scuzz lined melodic intimation around the perpetually tempting vocals of Kasianenko. The final track is all spirited bounce and creative contagion beneath vocal and emotive energy; a rousing memorable finale to an equally stirring release rather easy to highly recommend.

China Shipping is out now via Antena Krzyku; available digitally @ https://bastarddisco.bandcamp.com/album/china-shipping and on CD/LP through http://www.antenakrzyku.pl/en/shop/bastard-disco-china-shipping-lpdownload-preorder-release-date-030519-kopia/

https://www.facebook.com/bastarddisco/

 Pete RingMaster 21/05/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Raketkanon – RKTKN#3

Four years or so back with a single track Belgium outfit Raketkanon had us hooked. Florent was one of those lust fuelled moments we all have from time to time; an inescapable connection which their subsequent second album reinforced with a longer to work but just as persuasive temptation. Now the Flemish band has returned with its successor and an even more ridiculously compelling and creatively maniacal proposition.

In many ways RKTKN#3 is the obvious continuation of the Ghent hailing quartet’s unique sound and inimitable endeavour but swiftly proves itself a whole new escapade of raw imagination and manipulative noise. The years between releases has seen a bold new maturity rise in songwriting and craft as well as creative babble, every moment of their new trespass angling to and effortlessly succeeding in getting under the skin while again vocally frontman Pieter-Paul Devos fingers the imagination and raucously roars in his own perpetually intelligible language, one which constantly teases recognition and understanding with every squall and seduction escaping his fevered throat for another layer of texture and intimation to devour and play with. RKTKN#3 rears up from a dark place, its breath at times as dystopian as it is invigorating and each spread of its suggestive soundscapes a beguiling intrusion on the assumed safety and composure of mind and senses.

The album springs into life with Ricky sauntering on the wiry lures of Lode Vlaeminck’s synth. Inherently infectious rhythms are soon cast by drummer Pieter De Wilde, his swings becoming more rapacious as the raw senses squirrelling throes of Jef Verbeeck’s guitar burst forth. Devos’ restless tones quickly add to the increasingly virulent incitement; intrigue and mayhem coating every colluding texture even as warm calms emerge to subsequently share their own growing paranoia.

It is a riveting start to the album swiftly matched by the even more asylum like Fons. Vocal gabble leads sonic stalking, the guitar offering initial glimpses of the track’s predacious heart before both ignite with the fiery blaze of the synth’s unpredictable melodic causticity. As everywhere, ever ready unpredictability soaks every twist and turn; steering the imagination and an increasingly greedier appetite for the song’s crazed composure and seductive ferocity.

Mélody matches the instinctive catchiness of its predecessor with its own melodic coaxing; vocal seduction and gentle caresses of guitar teasing forth the ever fertile and varied enterprise of Vlaeminck’s synth. There is a mordant lining to its tempting though which openly simmers but never truly ignites as the track continued to enthral before Hannibal breaks its borders. Atmospheric inkling seeds the threatening pulse of a rhythmic and electronic march, a further sinister repose the base for an even greater ravening file of sonic trespass. The track is superb, fiercely manipulative and soon had this body instinctively stomping to the feral quality to the Raketkanon sound.

Even the melancholic yet vibrant serenade of Robin wears this untamed edge on its sleeve, a suggestion of wild instincts almost taunting from within its hypnotic post punk siren calling while Lou immediately after scents its own alluring disquiet with individual melodic alchemy, every gathering thread and layer of sound portentous in its radiance. It is a predictive tone eventually given corrosive voice as the track embroils the senses in its ravenous dissonance. A fusion of progressive and noise rock with any carnivorous flavour you can imagine, the song lures and seduces with a slower proving compared to its fellow protagonists but no less successfully persuasive prowess.

The senses stabbing eruption of next up Harry instantly had ears and senses on board, De Wilde sheer rabid coercion before synth and guitar entangle their own adventurous cajolery which is more than matched by that of Devos’ ever fecund antics. Creative haywire bred on organised deviancy, it is simultaneously dance-floor rabid and imagination provocative, the latter trait tauntingly exploited by the following Ernest with its wonderfully nagging qualities within another captivating sonic kaleidoscope.

The album is closed up by Mido, an anomalously harmonious serenade as disturbingly haunting as it is infectively engaging which simply seduced from start to finish. As all tracks, it is a lure of individual uniqueness which echoes the idiosyncratic character of the Raketkanon sound

At a push the Belgian Rocketcannon is kind of akin to an entanglement of Melvins, Devo, Powersolo and Coilguns yet still pretty distant from what that hints at but as RKTKN#3 proves it is something rather special which is all you need to know.

RKTKN#3 is out now via Alcopop! Records @ http://ilovealcopop.awesomedistro.com/products/636359-raketkanon-rktkn3-12-cd and also available on cassette @ https://bethshalomrecords.bandcamp.com/album/rktkn-3

http://www.raketkanon.com   https://www.facebook.com/Raketkanon/

 Pete RingMaster 30/04/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Society Of Losers: Mr Ted – Muscle Milk/ Bisch Nadar – Leaders

Having our own musical journey seeded and bred in the small but tenacious independent record labels which leapt from the punk scene decades back there is an instinctive intrigue and appetite for the energy and passion which fuels such endeavours. They are adventures which are all about the music, it and their creators the reason for every move and release. This is no more epitomised than by Society Of Losers, a Liverpool hailing label formed in 2016. We were drawn to their presence and releases through the outstanding Salt The Snail before subsequently discovering the glories of . Now we have a couple of new tracks from two more of their bands with each confirming Society Of Losers a go to outlet for compelling escapades.

First up is the new track from the label’s latest recruits, Mr Ted. Liverpool bred, the band stepped forth around 8 to 9 years back but only released their first single last year, the ear stalking Shame. As its successor, the track was a feral contagion of grunge, punk, and noise rock emerging as something firmly individual to the band. Muscle Milk is a devious web sharing the same flavoursome threads entangled in many more but even more dramatically eventful and thrilling.

Consisting of Peter Williamson, Mark Hughes, Mark Charles Manning, and Phillie Collier, a quartet who list past and present the likes of Iron Witch, Pet Virus, and another of our favourites in Enamel Animal within their CVs, Mr Ted immediately tease ears with a guitar wire; a coaxing line to a tide of sonic trespass which swiftly rises up. Just as urgently, the track’s thick groove and swing invades ears and body, leading an eager sway as rhythms prowl within the nagging insistence of the guitars. With vocals equally as infectious in their untamed antics the song revels in its unpredictable imagination aligned to a moments of more composed grunge nurtured roars.

Never taking a moment to truly settle, the track twists and turns with a creative psychosis which just inflames its natural fever and bold enterprise. Muscle Milk is our introduction to the band and yep we are hooked and already impatiently anticipating the band’s upcoming debut album.

Leaders is the new single from another Liverpool outfit in Bisch Nadar who similarly cast a sound spawn from a blend of styles, in this case merging the essences of math and alternative rock with progressive and pop infused flavours. Their new track shows it makes for a potent proposition taking little time to have ears and enjoyment keenly engaged.

The thick grooves of A Rathbone’s guitar lay enticingly within the rhythmic lures of bassist G Yelding and drummer Andrew Finney, each aspect as inviting as they are imposing. The warm vocal tones of Rathbone similarly are allied to the throat rasping scowls of Yelding; that aligning of contrasts the heart and power of a song with bite to its welcoming character and organic volatility in its belly.

A song which tempts from the off but definitely grows by the listen, Leaders insists on closer attention upon Bisch Nadar and indeed as Mr Ted’s addictive bait, to one rather fertile field of freshness and pleasure at Society Of Losers.

Both tracks are available now @ https://societyoflosers.bandcamp.com/

https://www.societyoflosersrecords.com/

https://www.facebook.com/MrTedLives   https://twitter.com/MrTedLives

https://www.facebook.com/bischnadar   https://twitter.com/bischnadar

Pete RingMaster 29/03/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Sofy Major – Total Dump

Sofy Major is a leviathan of sound and trespass which persistently erupts from a noise fuelled creative lair with releases which for us have pretty much left contemporaries in their tempest and turbulence. Three previous albums have as good as decimated the prowess and adventure of other ear rewarding encounters around at the time and with Total Dump, the French trio has done it again Their new full-length is in many ways their most accessible and flirtatious offering yet but equally their most voracious and imposing not forgetting irresistible slab of noise and hardcore infested, metal lined rock ‘n’ roll.

The successor to the outstanding Waste of 2015, which itself eclipsed the thrilling Idolize unleashed two years earlier, the Dave Curran (UNSANE, Big Business) produced Total Dump is a contagion of abusive yet flirtatious noise and bruising but virulently captivating force and imagination. It is predatory irritable rock ‘n’ roll from start to finish with an eager taste in contagious and invasive enterprise. Opening up with its title track, the album immediately reveals its bestial side, the track prowling the senses with the carnivorous claws of Mathieu Moulin’s bass locked onto the senses as his more welcoming vocals align with the raw flames and tendrils of Thomas Dantil’s guitar. It is a preying of ears and imagination which never diminishes in threat and temptation however it evolves, a trespass driven by the menacing swings of drummer Mathieu Desternes that equally escalate in infernal virulence and captivation as individual and united enterprise breeds fresh twists and sonic commination.

The compelling start is only accentuated, indeed built upon by next up Giant Car Crash; a collision with the senses which had us bouncing as much as cowering before its flirtatious and barbarous intent. Voraciously feral and inhumanly infectious, the track devoured body and passions with unquenchable hunger leading to lustful responses before Cream It uncages its rapacious crawl to trespass the senses and melodic irreverence to seduce an already greedy appetite. The kind of proposition which offers a warm welcome whilst ruining the foundations to your sanity, the glorious track is a manipulative mix of viral noise with an appetite for clamorous untamed pop.

As the ravenously viral rock punk ‘n roll throes of Strike and the post punk embracing devilry of The Jerk infested and seduced ears with unruly dexterity, Total Dump just stretched its landscape of esurient intent and fevered invention. Both tracks are as mercilessly catchy as they are unapologetically invasive, that greater accessibility to the band’s sound in full bloom just as much its acclaimed creative villainy is merciless, and traits just as thrilling within next up Shinny Happy Asshole, a venomously swinging, deviously contagious but inescapably corruptive slice of unscrupulous enterprise.

Through the slow hunt of the senses that is Franck Butthole; a cancer of sound which just ignites the imagination, and the unbroken antics of Tumor O Rama it is impossible to say attention and pleasure wavered, the total opposite in truth up against their combined sonic punk infection fuelled scourges while Kerosine Mike n turn just trapped and enslaved with ursine-esque power and intimidation whilst brewing up its own melodically toxic strain of bewitching rock ‘n’ roll.

Completed by the senses ravishing, violently bouncing exploits of Panamarama, it one the album’s most magnificent moments, and the sonically consumptive, caustically alluring tempest of The Longest Yard, there was and is no diminishing of the ardour we bred and hold for Total Dump. Without any doubt despite the glories of the past, it provides the greatest, most thrilling time with Sofy Major yet but also is set to send a shiver through the world of noise in any form as those within wonder how they can compete with its voracious triumph.

Total Dump is out now via Deadlight Records on CD and Antena/Corpse Flower on Vinyl.

http://www.sofymajor.com   https://www.facebook.com/sofymajor

Pete RingMaster 30/01/2019

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

Punching Swans – Faces

If you have allowed the boisterous noise and feral enterprise of Punching Swans to trespass ears before you will not be surprised to read that as maturity and a new bold touch embraces their latest release, their cacophony of sonic devilment is just as insatiable. Faces is a collection of tracks which stalk the imagination, manipulate the senses, and send the body into blissful spasms whilst courting a whole new level of adventure with the British trio.

Bred in the ever fertile round of the Medway region of Kent, Punching Swans is the creative union of vocalist/guitarist Greg Webster (Houdini), bassist/vocalist Joseph Wise(Frau Pouch), and drummer/vocalist Pablo Paganotto (The Explorer’s Collective). Formed in 2012, apparently “as a dare”, alongside their other projects, the band has simply grown in a sound, taking on inspirations from the likes of from The Fall, Sonic Youth, Bogshed and Mclusky as well as the dark realms of John Carpenter, The League of Gentlemen and The Evil Dead films, their imagination ensnaring releases perpetually earning bigger and keener acclaim. A self-titled debut that first year was a kind of warm up for the greater exploits inside Mollusc two years later. The album reinforced the band’s inimitable sound and creative mischief but flourished as the threesome in many ways ’took things more seriously’ with the project. Its qualities and success was only eclipsed by its successor Nesting in 2016 just as its seriously impressive character and adventure has been put in the shade by Faces.

The new album’s theme is a dark and compelling proposition; the release made up of eleven faces (tracks), each referring to the faces of serial killers. As Webster explains, “They each have a stupid feature for a face which is related to their story… so people who look kinda stupid and are unlikely killers. But then again, who is a likely killer? Can you really tell by appearance? As we wrote each new song they seemed to fit into a particular image of a face and from there we wrote what their particular background story was. We were picturing a kind of Dick Tracy rogues gallery of villains. “

The album opens up with Blood Face, gradually looming up on the senses in a sonic shimmer before a raw wash of voice and sound explodes on ears. The scything beats of Paganotto pounce and swing as a sonic swash of guitar colludes with the rapaciously dark mumblings of bass, a fiercely magnetic union completed by eager vocals. Slipping melodic teasing amongst its ravenous discord, the track is a magnificent and quickly addictive start to an album which only escalated every lure heard with imagination thereon in.

The following Areola Face instantly had hips swaying and appetite’s tongue licking lustful lips as Wise’s throaty bass strolls with dark but infectious intent, a catchiness only accentuated by the more ‘violent’ animation of guitar and beats. Ebbing and flowing in its volatility, vocals following suit, the track provides a caustic flirtation before Strobe Face licks at the senses with a rapid flicker of beats and a sonic sunspot which in turn sparks a slightly corrosive but fully captivating trespass; a captivation only boosted by the singular dance of vocals and beats which escapes before things become more psychotic yet tenderly seductive.

Through the calm but predacious post punk militance of Batter Face and the reserved siren-esque psychosis of Coral Face, animated temptation richly soaked ears; Paganotto’s kinetic swings as conniving and irresistible as the intimation shredding exploits of Webster and Wise’s skilful rhythmic dark saunters, traits fuelling the whole album from start to finish. The latter of the pair has a definite Houdini meets The Fall feel before making way for the simply glorious murderous drama and inharmonious beauty of Cliff Face. Featuring Dan Toms of Bear vs Manero and the biggest treat out of nothing but, the track is simply manna for ears and spirit, unscrupulous rascality at its best.

The following pair of Grater Face and Lady Cheese Face refers to each other, the songs “Romeo and Juliet-style lovers who simply could not be.” The first is a wild slice of post punk ‘n’ roll with a personality something akin to Mclusky meets The St Pierre Snake Invasion while its companion of sorts shows a devious side to its more tamed incursion on the senses. Discordant yet with a sonic elegance which is as threatening as it is alluring, the track is a true predator of a song, getting under the skin with subtlety and flirtation before gnawing away with bloodthirsty relish.

Raw and wolfish, Carpenter Face infiltrates ears next with an almost industrial like hue to its expanding tapestry of lawless noise. A low key serenade with a portentous breeze of sonic duplicity inserts itself in the breaths between it and Face Face straight after, the piece brief and never quite breaking the surface of its limbo before the penultimate track careers in on a rhythmic canter with a sonic mane spraying in its trenchant winds.

God Face completes the release, the song a lure of shadow bound celestial scheming simultaneously  tenebrific and radiant round another simply rousing rhythmic incitement from Paganotto and Wise alongside the melodic dissonance of Webster.

It is an enthralling end to a quite superb and increasingly addictive release. Punching Swans has never been as so damn manipulative or devilishly rousing as they are within Faces. It is not only a band at its momentously best but noise rock/post punk too.

Faces is released October 26th via Skingasm Records; available now for pre-order @ https://punchingswans.bandcamp.com/album/faces

Upcoming live shows:

OCT 26th LEEDS, Chunk

OCT 27th LIVERPOOL, Invisible Wind Factory

NOV 9th LONDON, Aces & Eights

https://www.facebook.com/PunchingSwans   https://twitter.com/punchingswans

Pete RingMaster 23/10/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright