To create rock ‘n’ roll alchemy as scintillating and fresh as this you just have to suspect that the horned one did have a hand in its breeding as the title of this voracious riot suggests. The Devil Made Us Do It declare The Long Tall Texans on their return after eight years with a new album, but whatever part he had in its creation and the type of dues met all credit and ardour goes to the Brighton band who after two and a half decades still stand mighty in creating essential blistering rock n roll.
Jammed to the rafters with predominantly Garry Castleman penned songs brought to insatiable life and realism by brother and guitarist Matt, drummer Theo, and vocalist/slap bassist Mark Carew ( also of The Hotknives), The Devil Made Us Do It rampages over and with the passions in a thoroughly captivating and enthrallingly expansive manner. It is a feisty merger of rockabilly, psychobilly, punk, and country twisted in one unique and impossibly contagious riot of rock ‘n’ roll. It has to be said that The Long Tall Texans has been doing this for ages, since day one to be fair, but their thirteen track stomp fest undoubtedly is their finest slab of devilry in a long time. Produced and engineered by Mark Roberts at Empora Recordings and mastered by Tim Rowkins, it is the first essential blaze of rock ‘n roll in 2014, a fire you suspect which will still be heading the field in this year’s twilight moments.
The album turns the ignition for the ride ahead with the instrumental Taxi, a flaming climate of melodic heat in a western environment which is more sunset than sunrise and a wholly addictive start to the album. With a breath of surf rock to its smouldering temptation it makes way for the rascality of Girlfriend, a contagion clad stroll of sonic grooves and irrepressible hooks wrapped by a blend of rockabilly soaked in fifties irresistibility and just a little salacious enticement. The song requests rather than demands attention and the listener’s vocal assistance but the outcome is the same, full submission to its call.
The cantering psychobilly charge of Kamikaze Killer is the band recalling its early days in many ways, a rapacious anthemic temptation of a song which again refuses to take no for an answer in its request on emotions and limbs. A glorious guitar sculpted blaze only adds thicker allurement to the track before the western swung Kill Me saunters in and seduces the ears all over again in its own individual enrapturing style. Four tracks in and every song on the album has been of unique character and presence to each other but uniformal in their efficiency in securing the fullest allegiance to their rock ‘n’ roll driven desires and nothing changes across the rest of the release.
The stalking rabidity of Sex, Beer & Psychobilly chews on the senses next whilst simultaneously seducing them with grooves and riffs which demand a returning lust for their teasing. The guitar of Matt conjures a weave of addiction forging lures around flumes of melodic acidity; it is pure sonic manna and with the thumping beats of Theo caging recipient and song within the predatory sway of Carew’s irrepressible slapping, the song is another peak in the mountainous range of The Devil Made Us Do It.
The pop lit Terry and the following riveting Let Me Go powers through the ears with a punkabilly urgency and growl which in the case of the first reminds of Australians Living End whilst the cowpunk spiced second of the pair offers an evolving roam through magnetically rich and varied flavours of rockabilly. For a great many the band deservedly is up there with the legends such as The Meteors, Demented Are Go, Batmobile, Stray Cats etc. and these songs alone prove to newcomers just why, whilst the album simply puts in stone the fact that The Long Tall Texans are masters now and then of raucous and mercilessly virulent rockabilly in all its off shooting guises.
The excellent I Hate Myself again ventures into more punk based alchemy whilst its successors, the ridiculously addictive Covered In Sin and the country seeded What Part Of Fuck Off Don’t You Understand?, exploit the established rampant appetite for the whole release with their own epidemic of sonic inducements. The first of this pair is the stealer of top honours on the song, the dual vocal styling as potently compelling as the ravishing spree of musical toxicity led by riffs and hooks carrying more barbs than a jigsaw. Its companion is an argumentative encounter lyrically and a taunting slice of country rock musically veined with spices of country swing alongside tasty rhythm and blues additives, it and its predecessor continuing the extensive variation of the release and craft in songwriting impressively.
The outstanding I Fell In Love With A Zombie and the simply exceptional I Used To Feel Funny provide more rigorously stimulating slabs of prime rockabilly and danger drenched psychobilly respectively, though as always it is just half of the story as numerous flavours stoke up the fires within the songs and the now over fed but still greedy emotions receiving them. The closing Feels Like Ice brings it all to a towering conclusion with a sensational heavily weighted brawl of intensive psychobilly scored with rockabilly lunacy and glam rock wantonness. If The Sweet were rockabilly you suspect they would have sounded like this hellacious bone rattling stamping provided by the album’s finale. Listening to it again as this is written maybe that best track decision is still under review after all.
The Sunny Bastards released The Devil Made Us Do It is quite simply one of the greatest rock ‘n’ roll albums of the past decade with little more to be added except to say that The Long Tall Texans still makes the majority of bands, rockabilly or psychobilly sound like mere novices.
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10/10
RingMaster 14/01/2014
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scorching sonic beckoning. Feet and body are soon twisting to its pure rock temptation whilst a hunger for the sound is already starting to stir, though to be honest any rockabilly release does that at the start. Many then lose their grip but no such worry with Girl Trouble as second song Rock Me does what it says on its label. Rhythms and bass slaps tease and recruit the senses with ease whilst the guitar craft of Striegler send sonic tendrils of excitement around the same receptive bodies with the contagious vocal bait help the seizure of the passions.
psychobilly contagion which without creating new realms for the style provides a predatory thrill which ticks all the right boxes for the passions. The vocals of Legaspi on this song have initially a voice close to that of Blackwood but as the album expands she shows her distinct and unique presence potently alongside the musical adventures. With the upright bass craft of McNab as delicious and inciting as expected with the band’s invention, the track is a stonking start to the album which is soon backed by The Devil’s Son. The song from its opening second has a sultry lure and heated breath to its rockabilly prowl, keys a smouldering glaze over the rhythmic caging of the imagination and the seductive Wanda Jackson hinting vocals. Insistently infectious the song merges a fifties swagger with a sixties keys narrative which with the excellent vocal harmonies just captivates and mesmerises the imagination.
features members from some of Australia’s most prominent punk rock bands from over the years including Crucified Venus, Crankcase, Rule 303, World War 24, and Black Rose. The band is no stranger to acclaim back home and further afield from live performances which has seen them veterans of three UK tours and recently their first around America, as well as sharing stages with the likes of Dead Kennedys, GBH, Peter & The Test Tube Babies, The Exploited, UK Subs, DOA, The Business, Sham 69, Rose Tattoo, The Varukers, The Vibrators and many more. With equally potent responses to their releases, especially the 2010 album Lean Mean Street Machine and Oi Oi Aussie Rock & Roll live, Rust now offer two striking tracks to Olde Worlde-New World, starting with Send My Love From England. An opening throaty bass croon immediately grips attention and more, its coaxing irresistible and soon joined by the caustic riffs and strikes of guitar within a punching rhythmic testing. With the kind of punk vocal delivery you almost expect with old school bred assaults, the track offers strong magnetic hooks and excellent anthemic moments to seize full vocal and body co-operation from the listener. It is a great start, a song with no surprises but one that ticks all the boxes for a deeply pleasing slab of punk antagonism
Taking over on the EP, Darlington trio Keyside Strike create tempests of punk infused with dirty rock ‘n’ roll, blues, hardcore, and psychobilly. Formed in 2002 their sound is one which stomps on the senses whilst plucking the passions with irresistible hooks, all within again a brawling maelstrom of roughly imposing energy and invigorating urgency. Their two albums and numerous appearances on compilations has made the band one of the true rock ‘n’ roll bands in the Northeast of England whilst their impressive live shows has seen them share stages with bands such as The Business, Murphy’s Law, Street Dogs, UK Subs, Demented Are Go!, Discharge, Madball, Demon City Wreckers, Stitch Hopeless And The Sea Leg and loads more across the UK, Europe, and America.
of Red. A hunger driven intensity and stroll to the song provides an unrelenting temptation which is raised further by the great vocals, the two frontman trading verses, and the melodic flames which flare up across the contagious charge. Like a meat clad bone before a hound the horror punk introduction to the release is potent bait, its equally delicious psychobilly tonic only increasing its lure and grip on awakening passions.
opening for Eric Lindell at Mexicali Live in Teaneck NJ, playing the legendary Maxwell’s of Hoboken, and being part of the Roxy & Dukes Rockabilly Rally in Dunellen NJ, where they shared a stage with the likes of Nikki Hill, The Ultra Kings, and Crash Gordon with Debra Dynamite on vocals. Now working towards new release Go Ape with a planned early 2014 release, Bottle Cap Rockets’ stock is in an open ascendency which when looking at some of their songs it is not really a surprise.
between, How To Fly A Rocket takes barely seconds to have ear, senses, feet not forgetting emotions engaged and belted up for the soaring journey of opener P.G.I.T.U. Introduced with a galactic announcement, the song instantly cups the ear with a delicious melodic tease of guitar with swipes of muscular rhythms drawing in the excellent upright bass croon brought by Greggsy and the great vocals of Giggsy. Straight away you know what you are going to get from song and album, the uncluttered and precise devilry of the guitars and their irresistible hooks matched by a rhythmic seduction. Feet and voice is the song’s plaything pretty much from its opening and chords too, whilst the track impressively manages to have a familiarity to it but also a fresh originality. Not for the first time on the album the band offers essences of other genres with a subtle craft, punk and country just two spices which add ingenious individuality to tracks and release.
opening note of the first up title track. Energy and riffs are immediately enslaving the ear with relish and hunger as a storm of rockabilly and heavy rock, from which you almost expect Lemmy to step out of, absorb the senses with the outstanding tones of De La Muerte holding court. The music embraces him in powerful and melodic enterprise, everything feeding the awakened passions before them. It is a storming mix of light and dark wrapped in an infection to which escape is impossible from song and subsequently the album as it unleashes more individual but just the same addictive alchemy.
bass and guitars unlock the key of greater pleasure with eager and raw caresses. Soon joined by the distinctive tones of Mr Venom, his colour soaked narrative of outer space glamour seizing greedy attention, the track swaggers with pungent riffs and rolling rhythms taking the senses and thoughts on a heady ride. Tight hooks spear the passions throughout, their breath familiar yet fresh, whilst the core groove is the master of addiction aided by the throaty bass and continually riveting delivery of Venom. Holding an air of The Cramps and Screaming Lord Sutch to its voice and Batmobile to its sound, the song is a thrilling encounter to start things off, thoughts and imagination taking off their space helmets to stand side by side with the band on a strange temptress of an adventure.
rapacious touch within the opening seconds of the title track, the first song on the album taunting with raw scuzz lined riffs before equally teasing rhythms add their touch. Into its stride the track is a scorching rampage through the ear, one which scrubs and boils every inch of internal flesh with its sonic fire and temptress groove. The vocals of Mathews bring a great mix of delivery, all drenched in an expression and passion which comes over like the call of a part desperate and part belligerent provocateur. It is a very Guy McKnight like sound he has with more than a nod to David Gardner of Engerica it has to be said, though pure coincidence you would guess, but one which only leads the songs into further delicious misdemeanours.