This month sees the release of the fourth album from UK rockers Spunk Volcano and the Eruptions and like with all its predecessors just the news of that had us drooling in anticipation of its sure to be boisterous antics. Like so many others, the rousing exploits of the band to date ensured such eagerness and we can confirm right here and now no one will be disappointed. We will not announce Double Bastard the band’s finest offering to date such the thrills and spills within the likes of Injection, Shit Generation, and Not Wired Up Right before it and that is ignoring their equally rousing EPs, but it is right up there and insistently increasing its right to be announced top dog by the listen.
Ever the prolific songwriter vocalist/guitarist Spunk Volcano, also like drummer Maff Fazzo of Dirt Box Disco revelry, has filled the belly of Double Bastard with twenty five slabs of the band’s inimitable multi-flavoured punk ‘n’ roll. Expectantly his songs swing hooks like a predatory angler whilst lustfully ensnaring ears and participation with lung rousing choruses and virulently anthemic hollers and as ever their hearts are inspired by the intimate, social or simply everyday items and other sources of fun. But predictability and echoes of past shenanigans never rear their heads across the double album only mischief, craft, and pleasure.
With so many tracks within its bulging walls let’s get the fillers out of the way first…..OK that’s done! Truly every moment with Double Bastard is an essential incitement of rock ‘n’ roll with Teenage Teenagers the first to exploit an admittedly already in waiting appetite. From its first breath the song is an infectiously eager clamour, vocals leading the manipulation as Fazzo’s beats and Joey Strange’s throaty bassline direct its catchy stroll. The guitars of Tom ‘G Force’ Batterbee and Stew Page weave their own melodic temptation into the familiar SV and the Eruptions mix but one wholly individual proposition.
Swiftly the deliciously rapacious lures of Marvellous Manifesto and the rhythmically animated and sonically devilish Fixtures and Fittings infested eager ears with their voracity in heart and tenacious catchiness. The instinctive rock ‘n roll of each track is just as bold and persuasive before Plasticine playfully prowls ears and imagination with the barely diminishing nostalgia and lure of its inspiration, a song as memorable as it is devilish in presence.
It feels mean to pick out certain songs over others as all simply pushed the album to further greatness but among the contagion loaded and diversely flavoured likes of Shit Excuse, Edging on the Side of Caution, TCP, and Spare Room, persistent peaks were set by the sinisterly sauntering, deviously compelling Super Dooper and the voracious trespass of Independent Fire. The metallic edging of the hardcore bred first is accentuated in the punk/thrash toned foray of the second yet both reveal so much more in their sound and flavouring than that suggests,.
Similarly Red Rings with its engulfing melancholy and the irritable uproar of Road Rage brought new heights to the release just as potently matched by the pandemic melodic rock temptation Old Wives Tales with Fazzo‘s skills alone inescapable bait, the track bringing CD 1 to a magnificent close.
In many ways CD 2 shares a more feral side to the band’s sound, their punk instincts gloriously festering in the raucous hearts of tracks just as infectious and variously flavoured as their album companions before them. Death or Glory and Sucking Up quickly instil that feeling, the first track just muscular in every riff and heavily landing beat, biting hooks and rowdy vocals adding to its punk ‘n’ roll rampancy before its successor bares its old school punk snarl and seventies pub rock disorder like a brawling mix of Eddie and The Hot Rods, The Damned, and Motorhead.
The nagging prowess of Here Come the Zombies proved pure manna to personal tastes, the track building on the just as irresistible punk brawl of Dirty Pictures before it, the latter the definitive epitome of the band’s sound from day one and its perpetual evolution ever since; like a whiff of every release is embraced in its own particular bedlam.
Inevitably some tracks burrowed under the skin further than others, the insatiable almost savage onslaught of Personality Black Hole as mercilessly addictive as Inbred with seventies punk irreverence flooding its hooks is carnally seductive and Scared of Needles is effortlessly manipulative on spirit, body, and vocal chords.
Even so the likes of the 99% with its varied weave of melodic rock, the antagonistically anthemic Sick of Saying the Same Things, and the pop punk tunnelling rock ‘n’ roll of Daft as Brushes ignited the passions with no trouble or resistance.
The album is brought to a close by firstly the hard rock/pop punk infested melodic bellow of Blinded and then You Think Your Rock n’ Roll But You’re Not, one final punk ‘n’ roll blitz on ears and inhibitions which both fell in seconds for its cacophonous contagiousness.
Double Bastard is prime yet wholly fresh Spunk Volcano and the Eruptions and just another stomp with the nefariously enterprising quintet we can only loudly recommend.
Double Bastard is released via Avenue Recordz on 21st June.
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Pete RingMaster 03/06/2019
Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright
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.
Old school rockabilly seeds the following dark seduction of She’s Strange, its dark lures and senses winding coaxing a devilish virus of sound and temptation while the skilfully voracious Rattle Rock Stomp simply unleashes restrained but barely contained bedlam in its rivetingly compelling swing. Dan’s vocals alone just infest the senses and pleasure fuelled appetite but add the ever resourceful and devious scything beats of Naomi and the almost corrosive clamour of guitar and it is manna for certainly these ears.
The following Burn It Clean uncages its own dispute of rousing rock ‘n’ roll to similarly irresistible effect, Fi a magnetic protagonist challenging and roaring within the track’s fractious stomp while the album’s title track in turn unleashes its own caustic holler to fire up body and attitude. Both tracks are pure manipulation, primal and designed, matching the glory of their predecessors and United Decay which erupts from its industrial bed with Kelly’s juicy groove and Diesel’s hungry riffs. With more restraint to its testy character but devious in its creative corruptions, the track is one imposingly tempting anthem though to be honest one such taunt among thirteen such compelling snares.
Earlier this year, the band released the W.G.A.F. EP, a very well-received taster of the band’s punk fuelled, pop infested, ebullient rock ‘n’ roll now making one virulent holler from within A Deafening Silence. With defiance and attitude wrapped in hook ridden contagion, the Michael Wagener produced album immediately sets about getting under the skin with opener You Say. Flames of guitar instantly consume ears, a catchy rhythmic trespass in close pursuit before Sellers’ vocals join the swift coaxing. Within seconds an underlying hook teases but captivation is truly set with the song’s irresistibly rousing chorus. Like a hybrid of The Donnas, Spinnerette, and Sleater-Kinney but urgently enforcing its own individual character, the song as the band’s sound and enterprise sets the tone, manipulation, and adventure of things to come.
Across the classic hard rock tinted antics of Down On My Knees and the corrupted boogie woogie nurtured devilment of The Ripper new flavours and rascality sweeps across Down In The Basement, The Dahmers already revealing their most diverse web of sound which Hit ‘N’ Run exploits for its contagion loaded adrenaline fuelled punk ‘n’ roll romp. All three tracks infested body and spirit with ease, the latter mercilessly before Howling merged the rock ‘n’ roll decades with its nefarious holler for a matching success.
