Amongst the mischievous and devilry loaded protagonists which help make rock ‘n’ roll so fun there is one certain rascal which is beginning to stand out more than most and that is UK outfit Mr Ted. We had a hint of their devilish manner, intent, and enterprise through a split release with Bisch Nader earlier this year on Society Of Losers and it is in full rebellious mood with debut album El Dirty Sex, again unleashed by the Liverpool label.
Consisting of Merseyside bred Peter Williamson, Mark Hughes, Phillie Collier, and Mark Charles Manning, Mr Ted create a sound embracing the best diablerie of punk and noise rock and the similarly roguish hues of grunge, alt rock, and other rapacious flavours. It emerges within El Dirty Sex as one captivatingly disobedient incitement as ridiculous in its antics as it is irresistible in its character and exploits with unbridled fun fuelling all.
Though hard to pin down with comparisons there is definitely something akin to Aussie band I Am Duckeye to the Mr Ted sound but as the album shows it develops new aspects in noise and misconduct song to song. The album opens up with Rage Quittin’, and immediately gets its bounce going as rhythms jump about with funk instincts. In no time riffs and hooks are adding their enticement with vocals matching their boisterousness yet all the while a darker, heavier edge infests the lining of the song; its doomier hue bringing thicker body to the instinctive predation of the quickly compelling encounter and its Houdini meets the previously mentioned Australians natured stomp.
It is an outstanding start to the album quickly matched by the alt rock shenanigans of The Bean Song with its animated moves and virulent hookery. Darkly hued rhythms incite and entice from the first second, guitars and vocals casting a web of temptation which effortlessly worms itself into ears and body with the inevitable involvement achieved by its monkey tricks including exploiting the equally infectious lure of The Kinks with a big grin.
The outstanding Shame is next up and similarly thrusts its inescapable hooks forward from the first breath; grooves which swing with knowing relish of their subsequent success in getting hips and lust to do their bidding. As crispy favourites fall as part of its lyrical observation, the song buried itself deep in the passions and psyche adding layers of voracious rock ‘n’ roll by each irresistible minute to seal such slavery before Sea Of Platelets shares an indie pop breeding and psyche rock shaping with matching eagerness; a touch of Television Personalities only aiding its thick persuasion.
Originally their part in that earlier mentions split release, Muscle Milk steps up next. Its lean but easily coaxing beginnings lead ears into the awaiting thick mass of dextrous sound; again grooves and rhythms inherently tempting in its rapacious but mercurial doom/sludge mixed body of contagious trespass. Still as irresistible as it was earlier this year, the track epitomises the core of a Mr Ted song and all the mischief and creative perversity found.
Through the punk ‘n’ roll ferocity of One 2 Panda, a predominantly instrumental track just as devious in its intrigue wired suggestiveness as it is predatory in its noise punk menace, and the feral contagion of the Happy Song, the album’s claws just dug deeper while Sexy Legs displayed its own funk and pop rock enterprise to take body and imagination on another energetic ride with unpredictability and misbehaviour for company.
El Dirty Sex goes out on the magnetic antics of firstly Andrew WK Party In Ireland, its title unsurprisingly giving clue to the major spice in its punk rock riot which also has a bit of Stiff Little Fingers to it with a Flogging Molly spicing breaking upon the folkish hues that emerge in the fun. Pickled Eggs and Snakes concludes the release, providing eight minutes of inimitable temptation taking essences of The Beatles, The Scaffold, Mischief Brew, and Half Man Half Biscuit in its increasingly volatile shanty. As everywhere though, it soon spreads its own unique voice and character of sound to leave us so hungry for much more.
Released in September we are a little late to the party but El Dirty Sexy has an open invitation which will never go out of date and should definitely be accepted.
El Dirty Sexy is out now via Society Of Losers Records; available @ https://mr-ted.bandcamp.com/album/el-dirty-sexy
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Pete RingMaster 19/11/2019
Copyright RingMasterReview: MyFreeCopyright
Big writer’s block erupts with its own contagious spite and captivation next, rhythms again at the core of its bold and vigorous creative coercion where punk and hardcore essences entangle in noise and sonic voracity. A breath taking cauldron of untamed and tense captivation it is followed by the album’s title track which eagerly uncages an esurient flood of urgency and compulsive tempestuousness in sound and emotion. The track is superb, managing to eclipse its mighty predecessors even by the brief time it takes its cyclone to slip into a bewitching oasis of magnetic voice and synth. Even so a current of rhythmic badgering escapes the agility of Hess, niggling and inviting as Jucker’s throat provides a similarly rich coaxing.
Super Size Me bowls in throwing its creative weight around next, its punk nurtured vitality and pop woven tenacity another moment breeding addiction before Need to Change has hips swaying and pleasure boiling with a contagion something akin to B-52’s meets Weekend meets Throwing Muses. Both tracks simply had the spirit and passions bouncing and alongside the album’s opener shared favourite track moment between them.
Evil Realm is first up, announcing itself with an immediate clang of guitar, a persistent clash of enticement honed into suggestive strumming as dark but just as inviting rhythms stroll. Finucane’s inimitable tones quickly join the infectious pop ‘n’ roll swung, punk infested clamour, his Mark E. Smith-esque delivery as potent as the words and incitement escaping his thoughts and throat. The track is superb, its inherent contagion of hooks amidst a post punk nurtured droning swiftly irresistible and the almost kaleidoscopic nature of its sound compelling with the almost freakish moments of relative calm carrying a Bill Nelson like suggestiveness simply icing on the skilfully instinctive pandemonium.