The story goes that “Hell was full so they came back!” A return sparking the beginnings of Hungarian punks The Hellfreaks so all hail the greed of the horned one to gather as many souls as he can to cram his domain. Seriously though whatever the spark which brought the Budapest band to life it has bred some of the best times for our ears here at The RR and none as glorious as now with the band’s new album, God On The Run.
Formed in 2009 by vocalist Zsuzsa Radnóti better known as Shakey Sue, The Hellfreaks soon had the local scene jumping before infesting ears and borders further afield with their psychobilly/rockabilly/punk nurtured sound. As the following year broke, the band unleashed debut album Hell Sweet Hell to swift success and acclaim around the world. Its successor, Circus Of Shame, met equal reaction and plaudits as the band found themselves touring across Europe and making a mark in the US.
As 2014 began to close up, the band split though it was a brief departure as Sue pulled the band from its temporary grave with a new line-up and a fresh evolution of their sound which saw punk and rock ‘n’ roll instincts fuelling a whole new incitement and individuality. The potency of this change was in evidence within third album Astoria, released 2016 and now in full roar and glory within God On The Run, an unbridled stomp which unapologetically puts all before in the shade.
From the moment opener Men In Grey launches its roar from the sonic lure it initially dangles, the album proved addiction is not always a bad thing. The voracious beats of Béla Budai drive the surge of temptation, nagging and biting simultaneously with a primal hunger as the guitar of Jozzy adds its rapacious riffs and claws alongside the dark grumble of Gabi Domján’s bass. As it hits its equally eager stride, Sue’s rousing tones ignite an already blazing fire, the song thick in attitude and virulence which only escalates as the chorus unleashes its roar. The track is superb, punk rock predator with garage punk and hard rock rebelliousness soaked in punk metal aggression.
From thereon in every track proceeds to infest ears with their own unique character as swiftly proven by Red Sky. Again, as rhythms pounce and plunder accompanying riffs and hooks spring their web of temptation around the compelling tones of Sue, her snarl and fire an echo of those esurient sounds and her lyrical bite. With essences which remind of bands such as In Evil Hour and The Distillers in varying degrees, the track is a rousing storm in the ears while Hello Sea! straight after matches its attitude in a calmer but no less volatile stroll. With open tempestuousness which shapes its voice and holler around a melodic enticement which alone is a magnet for ears, the song hit the spot already well attended by the album.
Doldrum Dynasty intensifies the album’s impact and the greed for it, the heavy tenacious nagging of bass and guitar grooves alone manna for the imagination though next up Witches Heal still manages to eclipse the album’s best moment yet. With Budai’s swinging beats prowled by the riveting tones of Sue, the track stalks the senses whilst gripping the body with an infectiousness which borders on the viral, again hooks a devious weapon within the slavery.
As Royal Blue and new single Adrenalized offer their own inimitable endeavours, God On The Run only took a firmer grip. Such the majesty of the previous pair, neither track quite rivalled their stature yet with their respective punk audacity and infection loaded clamour, both proved pure contagion before As Above stormed ears with its punk metal defiance and rapacity for a matching persuasion. Again within the creative hostility melodic enterprise and harmonic temptation provided, without defusing the song’s truculent heart, an evolving adventure the imagination keenly feasted on.
The album closes up with firstly the outstanding Clear Water, a track winding its wiry tempting around ears from its first breath whilst gnawing at the senses before offering rich melodic seduction and lastly the electro coated Tabby, a track declaring there is plenty more in The Hellfreaks imagination and sound for they and us to tap in to as it hauntingly consumed the passions.
God On the Run is certainly not the first time The Hellfreaks have had us lauding and recommending their devilry but there is a new vigour and urgency in our suggestion that you go check their voracious new album.
God On The Run is out February 7th; available @ https://thehellfreaks.com/shop
https://www.thehellfreaks.com/ https://www.facebook.com/thehellfreaks/
Pete RingMaster 26/01/2020
Copyright RingMasterReview: MyFreeCopyright
Things only grow more compelling and contagious as 2Fives and Twos sets its creative trap, it too another song which needs mere seconds to grip ears and appetite as Cordery winds addictive melodic wires around both. Punk and rockabilly soon converge on the rock ‘n’ roll instincts of the song, its tenacious gait and contagiousness a quick infestation of body with the Pauline Murray-esque tint to Sonic’s voice icing on the delicious cake.
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 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 Party Shark Shake is next up, the song as the band’s actual name triggered by a book, no surprise here, about sharks by Susan Casey. You can almost feel the warm liquor soaked sand between the toes as the track stomps through ears, the swell of its melodic tides dragging the imagination and hips into the dangerous currents and depths below the biting dynamics of the song. Across the riveting attack, it builds up to rousing crescendos though at no moment is it anything less than an over powering incitement to body, spirit, and imagination. Imaging The Ghastly Ones and The Trashmen in collusion with The Damned and The Revillos and you get a whiff of the album’s greatest moment.
The following Poppy’s Back In Town is just as manipulative, its rowdier rock colluding with the animated canter of keys and guitar with, as in its predecessor and every song, Kman’s vocal mischief leading the fun. Lively melodies and lustful hooks line its boisterous stroll before I Don’t Mind wheels in with an instantly appealing breeze easily reminding of The Beat. The band soon adds its own distinct colour to the song, adding a vocal backing in which participation is simply unavoidable. Smith’s clipping beats just get under the skin too, the brass n turn into the passions as the track lustily manipulates body and spirit.
Recently the sad news that drummer Brian Smith has terminal pancreatic cancer was announced and a Go Fund Me page set up to support him and his family. To help out this great musician and friend to so many go to 
The spirited rhythms of drummer Phil Joyce kick EP opener Pretty Little Features into life, their increasingly tenacious antics luring ears, appetite, and the guitar jangle of Luke Fraser. Swiftly his vocals also jump in, the track bouncing round with its fifties rock ‘n’ roll scented jazz punk. With a touch of eighties band The Stargazers to it and also the jump blues hues of a Louis Jordan, the song leaps and swings, successfully insisting on the same from the listener. Punk riffs taunt throughout as the flames of Nick Smith’s Trombone unite with the sax of Oscar Ives-Owen; each adding to the virulent contagion of an outstanding start to the release.