Waco – Human Magic

With requests for its attention coming from various directions including one from an old friend of The RR in the band’s very own Welshy who previously swung the sticks in one of our all-time fav bands, Top Buzzer, we just had to take a gander at the new album from UK outfit Waco. It is a move which brought immediate rewards and pleasure, both increasing by the listen so much so that we just had to introduce you to Human Magic and its riot of anarchic punk infested rock ‘n’ roll.

From song to song, Waco reveals a sound which rebels against expectations and wanders into an imagination which is as feral as the sounds it produces yet comes with a prowess and mischief as skilfully woven as it is organically bred. Describing the band’s sound is easy for a minute or two but soon deviates from any suggestion offered within the next but maybe imagine a fusion of Rocket from the Crypt, Jaya The Cat, and Japanese Fighting Fish and you get an on-going clue to the character of it and in turn debut album Human Magic.

Providing songs “laced with metaphysics, conspiracy theories and spirituality”, 2014 founded London hailing Waco consists of the inimitable lead vocals of guitarist Jak, the hook laded exploits of fellow guitarist Tom, and the addiction crowding endeavour of bassist James around the ever manipulate and bold rhythms of Welshy. Human Magic also features the just as fertile enterprise of former bassist Chris who sadly passed away late 2018 and was an integral part of attention and plaudit grabbing EPs the band released over the years.

 Human Magic opens up with The Jersey Devil and immediately had intrigue hooked as a spicy sax rose up around the bold tones of Jak, a lure instantly erupting in a bold and rousing stomp. There is a vein of seventies pop punk come power pop to the track too which escalates its infectious deeds, Welshy’s  beats landing with an eagerness only echoed in that contagion and the enterprise around them.

It is a spirit rousing start quickly backed up by the just as devilish Levenshulme Lover, a slice of indie rock meets pop punk that revels in the raw breath and mischievous nature of both. Rhythms again had the body pumped as vocals engaged with the song’s own holler; a touch of Buster Shuffle like revelry joining a bluesy finale to give greater dexterity to the song before N15 saunters in with a summery glow and instinctive catchiness swiftly emphasized by Tom’s melodic touch. Again a sax shares richly flavoursome flames to emulate the heat of the guitar while the union of vocals across the band and more accentuates the radiance of the song.

The album’s title track is a brief cosmic glide, a golden instrumental sunset before the senses bouncing, spirit rousing holler of Anthony. Firm heady beats lead the second track’s entrance, splashes of guitar igniting the air as the bass tenaciously growls and strolls through song and ears alike. Jak’s vocals match the sounds around them in hooks and almost rapacious tempting, everything aligning to provide a thumping virulent rock ‘n’ roll roar with that previously mentioned Rocket From The Crypt like essence icing on the raucous cake.

Next up Daydream has a touch of Flogging Molly playing Elvis Costello to its balladry, a piano shaping its emotive hug before things increasingly grow rowdy with Jak sharing his inimitable expression and presence in its midst while My Brother, We’ll Rise Again surrounds ears in a dark rock embrace hinting of bands such as The Filthy Tongues or The Ugly Kings in its short sultry and soulful croon. Both only further stretch the varied sound and landscape of the album, an endeavour further pushed by the indie pop rock contagion of The Valleys.

As the psych rock scented Smalltown Goths tempts and in turn rocks ears with its own dose of infection and Six Feet Under straight after serenades the same welcoming guests with its country folk lined dance, it is fair to say that Human Magic slipped deeper under the skin, then burrowing just a layer or two further as By My Side serenaded with its lively pop drama and glorious mix of vocals and definitely more so through the boisterous antics of Catbrain. The latter is superb stealing favourite song honours from the moment Welshy’s deviously addictive beats burst from a concussive entrance to infest feet and musical instincts with guitars spinning a web of matching temptation around Jak’s and the band’s devilish vocals and intent.

Completed by Tomorrow’s Gorgeous Globe and its magnetic poetry, Human Magic more than lives up to its suggestive name and all the reasons from many as to why we should have checked it out. To be honest all leasing words only touched on the magnificence of the album and we can only add our own summons to theirs for you to share real attention its way.

 Human Magic is out now via Standby Records.

http://www.wacoband.co.uk/   https://www.facebook.com/Wacouk/   https://twitter.com/wacobanduk

 Pete RingMaster 27/01/2020

Copyright RingMasterReview: MyFreeCopyright

The Primals – All Love Is True Love

The outcome of a collision between the raw essences of crust lined garage punk and pop infused grunge accosted by noise baiting metal, All Love Is True Love is the fierce new album from LA based rockers The Primals. Though it bears hungry ferocity it is equally as infectious and catchy as it is invasive; it all making for one of the year’s most irresistible debuts.

The Primals is a trio made up of Darkest Hour vocalist/guitarist John Henry, former Dead To Fall member in bassist Chad Fjerstad, and drummer Andrew Black who previously was part of The Explosion, and Title Tracks. Exploits within those outfits has meant anticipation once The Primals’ first release was announced has been keen among a great many and we can say that though there have been a fair few introductions this year which have simply ignited attention and excitement with plaudits in close quarter, All Love Is True Love is ahead of most of the field.

Produced by John Reis (Rocket From The Crypt, Drive Like Jehu, Hot Snakes), All Love Is True Love immediately descends on ears with Hello Cruel World. Instantly a guitar gnaws on the senses, in turn triggering a caustic wave of noise as contagious as it is a visceral trespass. Even in its carnal insurgence there is an instant catchiness of pop sensibility which surges through the confrontation, vocals riding that temptation with a melodic snarl. Similarly soliciting is the predacious quality the band’s sound carries, one which permeates the whole album to compelling effect.

It is an outstanding rousing start as potently backed by the relatively gentler antics of Dead Predators. A web of noise fuelled clamour, earthy bass led swing, and sonic enterprise, the track quickly beguiles and tempts hips and imagination into an animated collusion before Another World To Call Your Own launches its own untamed will upon the listener. Across the three tracks alone there is no escaping a strong whiff of bands such as Nirvana and The Pixies, a breeze teasing throughout the release yet already there is a distinct character and presence which is all Primals as epitomised by their latest single which is next up.

Pity City saunters in on a rhythmic swing; flames of guitar crossing its lure as the melodic calm of vocals add infectious charm. The track simply becomes an insistent radiance spilling invitation where contrasting textures unite in imagination; a pop song in its rawest most accessible state before Fortune & Sons shares its punk ‘n’ roll animation with rapacious relish. It too has an inherent infectiousness which borders the viral and an equally belligerent breath which growls discontent as easily as it brews seduction.

Next up The Wayward Impaler is untamed pop rock which similarly melodically tempts as it shares sonic agitation while It’s Personal saunters in straight after with a heavy drawl and shadowed intentions before unveiling its own pop natured virulence within those persistent trespasses. Both tracks swiftly get under the skin, the latter especially laying a mighty hand on best track honours before Together Whatever has its say with its Sonics-esque, old school punk holler. Rhythms stomp and guitars abrase as the track incited body and the passion, another slice of quick addiction with a potent claim on the top dog title.

The album concludes with firstly the slow crawl of Save Me, Baby; a plaintively melancholic croon with rhythmic tempestuousness and lively pop rock animation, and through the rousing grunge punk ferocity of I’m Coming Home. The final track is pure threat and seduction, each in equal measure invading the senses in a “we are united, love you all and fuck the world” like declaration.

It is a stirring and tremendous finale to an album which has all the elements and deeds to re-invigorate already hungry or alternatively any stale appetites for rock music. It is a gem, simple as.

All Love Is True Love is out now via Southern Lord and available @ https://theprimalssl.bandcamp.com/releases

https://www.facebook.com/ThePrimalsLA

Pete RingMaster 24/09/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Devils Teeth – Suki Yaki Hot!

Here to incite you to commit all the bad devilish habits your mother warned you not to is the debut album from Milwaukee trio Devils Teeth. It is an encounter which has inhibitions flying in the front of sensibility and fresh addictions forging new trespasses of ill intent. Quite simply it is a bad assed stomp sure to lead all into glorious rock ‘n’ roll wrong doings.

Out of an already in place friendship, the threesome of vocalist/guitarist Jon Hanusa, vocalist/bassist Eric Arsnow, and drummer Chuck Engel emerged in 2016 as Devils Teeth. By that October they were already sharing stages with the likes of Dick Dale, The Blind Shake, Local H, The Toxenes, and Left Lane Cruiser. Their sound is a diverse and unpredictable hybrid of punk and garage rock with surf and psych punk tendencies which song by song across their first album, Suki Yaki Hot!, shows that even those tags do not really tell the whole story of an inimitable feral proposition additionally “channeling inspiration from Brucesploitation and Herschall Gordon Lewis films as well as surf and psychedelic sounds from decades past.”

From its first breath intrigue accompanies Suki Yaki Hot!, the first sonic sigh of opener Diamond Rio a scheming lure but it is when the raw strokes of guitar kick in that ears and instinctive rock ‘n’ roll passions are ignited. The rhythmic trespass of Arsnow and Engel is as unapologetically contagious as the eager throes of Hanusa’s guitar, all colluding to bring the listener to their feet to induce uncompromising swings through their hips. A fusion of traditional garage rock, mutant rockabilly, and psych devilry, the track is undiluted contagion as magnetically raw as it is skilfully woven.

The Junction Street Eight Tigers follows, a track inspired by Bruce Lee’s gang when he was in Catholic school aged twelve years old. It enters on a rhythmic grumble awash with sonic shimmers, breaking into an infectious prowl built on attitude and temptation; threat and confidence lining its swagger as the heat of Caleb Westphal’s sax adds greater lures to the outstanding encounter.

The diversity in the band’s sound is in full expression by next up Death Is Nimble, the third song a mix of funk and psychedelic tendencies around an instinctive punk rock heartbeat. A noise rock breath springs up from time to time too as the sultry climate of the track smoulders like a mix of Rocket From The Crypt and The Bomboras; captivation held in its palms in swift time before eventually the dark climes of Dirty Tricks bound into view with predacious attitude and a hungry crawl to its lively swing. Echoing those earlier mentioned inspirations, not for the first or last time there is a great B-movie feel to the character of the song; dirty adventure veining and lining its every exploit.

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.

Every one of its ten propositions is a momentous moment within Suki Yaki Hot! to be fair though as proven by the slow slung psychotic swagger that is Understanding The Hands Of A Killer. Its swing is pure devilry accentuated by the flames of sax and the vocal rapacity of Hanusa and Eric Arsnow amidst the cries of victims while its successor, Jet Jaguar is the spark to lust fuelled movements from body and vocal chords where never being a puppet has been so much fun and exhausting.

Who’s Laughing Now? is just as deviously compelling, rhythms and guitar weaving an inescapable hook rich trap infested with the similarly and ever potent vocal incitement of the band. It was another which grabbed a loftier foot hold in the unrelenting peaks of rousing pleasures in the album’s stirring landscape continued by the grappling holds and rhythmic attack of Sakuraba, a song bred from the inspiration of the Japanese MMA fighter and wrestler.

The album is concluded by People Of Earth, calm in relation to its predecessors but a menace lined psych punk croon with mayhem in its genes and contagion in its relentless rhythmic persuasion and raw sonic toxins. It is a superb final shanghai into slavery by the Devils Teeth sound and imagination; a devious machination for salacious times and unbridled pleasure, both the rewards for letting Suki Yaki Hot! infest ears and attention.

Among some real undiluted pleasures this year, the Devils Teeth debut is there at the head of the field.

Suki Yaki Hot! is released August 24th via Triple Eye Industries; available @ https://devilsteeth.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/devilsteeth/

Pete RingMaster24/08/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Escobar – The Biggest Sound

Whether you wish to call the Escobar sound grunge, punk, garage rock or something else, all flavours involved in its riotous tapestry, there is no escaping that it is one glorious rock ‘n’ roll cacophony. The irrefutable proof is to be found in the French duo’s new album The Biggest Sound, a nostril flared stomp more than living up to its container’s moniker.

Hailing from Limoges, Escobar was formed in 2014 by vocalist/guitarist Remi Lucas (Weird Omen, The Anomalys) and drummer Charly “Kayo” Cailleaud (The Bushmen, Daria). With the release of debut album エスコバルin 2015 and its successor Bird Of Prey the following year, the band was met with widespread acclaim which is sure to escalate through the rousing antics of The Biggest Sound. Such its addictive melodic hook laden clamour, it is easy to expect the album to thrust Escobar into the biggest spotlights as eureka moments go off in new ears to spark a fresh tsunami of lusty attention.

It is impossible to truly pin down the Escobar sound though a fusion of The White Stripes, Nirvana, and In The Whale gives a good starting point. As opener Terrible Man alone shows, the pair create a sound distinct and unique to itself and a temptation which swiftly and greedily infests body and imagination. The first song launches at the listener with urgent riffs, their infectious coaxing the prelude to a surge of flirtatious guitar clang and rhythmic incitement. It all settles into a vivacious garage rock stroll with a Latin-esque temperament as Lucas’ magnetic voice and guitar bounce upon the rhythmic web spun by Cailleaud. As virulent for the senses as it is increasingly concussive, the track simply seduces ears and appetite whilst getting the album off to a stunning start.

That success only builds as the insatiable punk ‘n’ roll of Misbehavior devours ears, again the two protagonists creating a noise clad contagion which sparks body and spirit. As with those around it, the song makes physical involvement a given in its swift but unquenchably boisterous escapade; a perpetual trait across The Biggest Sound in evidence again within Stuck On You. Carrying a power pop infection to its earthy rock ‘n’ roll, the track maybe leaps around with less intensity than its predecessor but with equal adventure as grunge instincts fuel the guitar. It is easy to hear Nirvana bred inspirations at play within the song but equally there are moments which seem nurtured by a fondness of bands such as Rocket From The Crypt and The Vaccines as it lays down another peak in the increasingly mountainous landscape of the album.

There is no time to relax as the outstanding Paradise rampages through ears with its Powersolo meets The Dirtbombs scented bedlam and Salvation teases and tempts with its raw and boisterous rock ‘n’ roll. The first offers a great if undemanding line in melodic dexterity within its noisy canter while its successor melds pop catchiness with scorched noise in its contagious swing and both simply up the ante in a release already fixing its permanent position in the passions.

The album’s title track steps up next bringing its own voracious infection to ears and psyche. The Biggest Sound is as much a declaration of the album’s roar as its own controlled and eager suggestion for hips and vocal chords; an invitation just a little dirty and a whole lot irresistible before Big Town bounds in with a swagger soaked in sonic dexterity to drag the energies into lustful compliance all over again. Compared to some, it too has a rein on its attack, saving it for the grunge bred eruptions which urge greater zeal from song and listener alike.

The psych rock kissed minimalism of Brain Out simply seduces and manipulates straight after; Lucas in guitar and voice a puppeteer as the song sculpts pop rock in its purest form. Slim and forcibly low key its glory is matched by the contrasting creative howl of Changeover. To be fair, the song too has a fine twist in infectious restraint and inventive enterprise but still escalates into a fiery roar which sears as it seduces. Both tracks hit the spot like a rock ‘n’ roll cupid though each is slightly outshone by the throbbing saunter of Stranger In Blood. As across the whole album, Cailleaud creates a rhythmic enticement which lures eager participation and rock ‘n’ roll instincts like a siren. His net is then entangled in the sonic machination of Lucas; the pair combining to beguile and incite without reservation.

The album concludes with the sonic commotion of Dumb Feelings, a slice of voracious punk rock with a whiff of Iggy Pop and the psychosis of Melvins in its seriously catchy riot and finally the irresistibly nagging of Drifting. The song is majestic, its jagged body of riffs and harmonic flirtation a show stealer as it slips through a celestial climate which haunts the senses. A final twist in the creative adventure of the album, the track sublimely and inescapably leaves a longing for more which that play button instantly satisfies.

There is always something new to explore to take us away from even the best records, fresh encounters to assess, but there are a few which make it very difficult to move on from without just one more union, and another….. The Biggest Sound is one of those; a joy which still resurfaces to bring our day to an invigorating conclusion and that is maybe reason enough for all to go explore.

The Biggest Sound is out now through Dirty Water Records (USA), Adrenalin Fix Music, Beast Records, and Strychnine Production and available @  https://escobartheband.bandcamp.com/album/the-biggest-sound

https://www.facebook.com/escobarbandpage

Pete RingMaster 31/10/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Madjive – Business first

All work and no play makes…. well you know the rest though no one seems to have told French rockers Madjive. There new album suggests that it is Business first but it is a sentiment which does not stop the band taking the listener on a feverish, mischievous, and riotous rock ‘n roll romp which is all about fun, fun, fun…

Hailing from the east side of France, Madjive has been unleashing their creative devilry since 2008. As their third album reveals, theirs is a sound which evades guidelines and rules, Business first a cavalcade of various styles and textures woven into a proposition as punk as it is hard rock, as garage rock as it is funk. Across two previous albums, a trio of EPs and a split vinyl release, the band has only cemented and increased their reputation while live Madjive has stomped across the broad landscape of Europe to matching acclaim, sharing stages with the likes of Powersolo, Richie Ramone, The Phenomenauts, Fuzzy Vox, The Jancee Pornick Casino, The Inspector Cluzo, Nada Surf, Lords of Altamont, VCPS and many others along the way. Business first is the wake-up call to those yet to be infested by the outfit’s devilment, a boisterous and excitable encounter which would not surprise if it incited global attention.

Ignition program turns the album’s key, its scything riffs and tenacious beats wrapped in a vocal web before leaping into a punk rock stroll sparking the body into a blur of eager movement. The funk growl of the opener twists into the punk ‘n’ roll of I am addicted. Again guitars chop and entangle the senses with their agitated jangle whilst rhythms shuffle within the quickly established funk infested saunter of the song. Led by more lively vocals, it continues to bounce and infest ears with a persuasion causing reactions living up to its title.

Its masterful temptation is swiftly eclipsed by the salacious lures of Same bone; a feisty charge of bold rock ‘n’ roll with the growl of Rocket From The Crypt and the instinctive devilish catchiness of  The Phenomenauts. At barely a handful of breaths over a minute in length, the glorious pleasure is sadly sort lived but imposingly memorable and thrilling before A spooky bargain brings its own haunted impishness to the party. Hooks escape its imagination at will, keys and guitars alone conjuring seductive bait as vocals colour and incite proceedings with mutual dexterity. Hints of Neal Hefti, the creator of the classic Batman theme tease throughout; the adventure recalling his finest moment within creative shenanigans all Madjive.

The contagious punk rock of Kid bazooka bursts to life next, it too equipped with appetite piercing hooks and devilment before the album’s title track declares its intent with rousing vocal unity quickly joined by forcibly persuasive rock ‘n’ roll. The track feels like a prelude to the bigger picture of Draft, sketch and outlines, the meeting’s  minutes setting the tone before its successor twists and turns with forceful enterprise and garage punk meets funk rock roguery. At its final statement, a moment of jazzy rascality comes over the album and ears, its unexpected detour leading to the blues funk playfulness of I can’t complain, a track somehow managing to sound like a hybrid of Red Hot Chili Peppers, System Of A Down, and Kings Of Leon without making such influences more than a whiff of a scent.

Both the previous tracks leave pleasure full if without quite at the heights of earlier tracks or found in the heavier rock ‘n’ roll of Rigged show. The track is a muscular and gnarly yet controlled and flirtatious encounter demanding subservience to its scything beats and sonic antics. There is hint of bands like Cheap Trick and Golden Earring to the song, but small hues in a certainly seemingly familiar but distinct escapade.

If the last song was relatively composed, We’re clear let’s manic traits fuel its character as it escapes speakers and the enslaving restraints of life to stir up body and imagination ready for the stormily sultry adventure of Desert peddler. The Morricone laced climate of the song is pure western drama, suggestiveness bound in similar descriptive intensity and artfulness to which Helldorado revel in, and quite glorious.

The album concludes with the vocal and melodic chicanery of Another guidance, a track trying to be composed and refined but it just cannot keep its punk heart chained, involving ears in a thrilling burst of garage rock high jinks with more than a keen nod to old school rock ‘n’ roll.

Business first, from its first dose of addictively satisfying and enterprising misconduct, inspires a hankering to get back with it as soon as possible, even before it actually comes to an end. It is a powerful lure from a stomp any fan of rock ‘n’ roll knavery will find a lusty appetite for. Throughout it does seem to persistently nag and remind of one band in particular, though one our thoughts have still yet to pin down, but Business first only announces Madjive as a band ready to stir up the rock world with inventive capers.

Business first is out now across most stores and @ https://madjive.bandcamp.com/album/business-first

Upcoming live dates:

16.04.207 – Clou – Grünberg – Germany

22.04.2017 – Cafe Ohne – Emerkingen – Germany

12.05.2017 – La Rodia – Besançon – France w/ Imperial state electric

16.06.2017 – Festival Erbasons – Etupes – France

30.06.2017 – Atelier des Moles – Montbéliard w/ CJ Ramone

25.11.2017 – La Taverne – Nevers – France

http://www.madjive.fr/    https://www.facebook.com/Madjive/   https://twitter.com/Madjive

Pete RingMaster 21/03/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Playboy Manbaby – Don’t Let It Be

 

playboymanbaby_RingMasterReview

With their recent single still inciting mischief and bad behaviour, Arizona post funk punksters Playboy Manbaby have just uncaged their new album Don’t Let It Be, eleven tracks of creatively nefarious goodness infesting body and spirit.

The union of You Can Be A Fascist Too and I’d Like To Meet Your Parents was a devilish punk riot of a single leaving greed part of appetite and anticipation awaiting the band’s third album. The Dirty Waters/Lollypops Records released Don’t Let It Be soon shows that the Playboy Manbaby sound is broader than ever, bigger than an elephant’s backside in flavour and sound. Having caught up with their previous full-lengths in Bummeritaville and Electric Babyman, both released 2014, that variety will be no surprise to fans but their successor has really gone to town in adventure and diverse fun to truly leave all before it in the shade.

The Phoenix hailing sextet of Robbie Pfeffer (vocals), Chris Hudson( bass), TJ Friga (guitar), David Cosme (trumpet), Chad Dennis (drums), and Austin Rickert (sax) have become a big deal locally and across their homeland, shows alongside the likes of  Mike Watt & The Missing Men, King Khan & BBQ Show, King Khan & The Shrines, Rocket From The Crypt, Thee Oh Sees, Cosmonauts, The Spits, Black Flag, The Descendents, The Replacements, The Slackers,  and Teenage Bottlerocket to name just a few, pushing their reputation as potently as their sounds. Now having been already tenderised by the last single, global attention is surely poised to embrace Playboy Manbaby and Don’t Let It Be. Justice is never a given of course but neither do anything to deter that expected and deserved embrace.

You Can Be a Fascist Too gets the revelry going, a surge of guitar jangle and bass throbbing swiftly joined by the slightly derange and excitable tones of Pfeffer. Spicy melodies and tenacious riffs almost barge into each other as the garage and punk essences of the track bound through ears, salacious harmonies sparking thoughts of UK band The Tuesday Club. For less obvious reason, The Tubes also come to mind a little too as the song stomps around like a belligerent pup, its raw power pop punk quite irresistible.

art_RingMasterReviewThe zeal pumped diversity quickly comes to the fore with the following Last One Standing, brass instantly flirting with ears with saucy flames as the bass swaggers with deceptive innocence. There is an agenda at play; an intent to turn the listener into a physical puppet and there is no escape for feet and hips to the virulent lures of the rhythms and grooves teasing and taunting within the ska kissed funk escapade. The earnest screwy tones of Pfeffer again are sheer magnetism as too the evolving dark bait pulsating out of Hudson’s bass.

The outstanding track is quickly matched by the even livelier dance of Bored Broke And Sober, its catchy jazz funk garage punk as loco as it is skilfully woven to lure untied bodies. Hooks are as flirtatious as rhythms, every fondling by and flash from the Friga’s guitar ear chaining rascality, and the whole song as those before slavery.

Cadillac Car saunters in next, its low slung groove temptress like as vocals dance with drooling expression of defiance and attitude in the garage punk crawl before Self-Loathing In Bright Clothing throws its post punk/punk tendencies into the ring. A few blows short of a brawl, the track springs its creative agitation with infection loaded enterprise creating a rough and ready tango of fiercely captivating Reuben meets Dead Boys like provocation.

The sultry flirtatious garage r&b of Cheap Wine and the scuzzy pop punk of Popular bring body and soul to the boil again, the latter like a raw Mighty Mighty Bosstones in some ways while I’m So Affluent slips in with a slinky grace as noir lit air hugs skittish rhythms and vocal suggestion. Jazzy with a dark indie jangle recalling The Jazz Butcher, the song quickly blossoms its dark rock ‘’n roll into another majorly bewitching moment within Don’t Let It Be, one with an increasingly tenacious bounce complete with band calls just impossible to be left out of.

That indie sound fills next up Oprichniki too though as all songs it soon shows a jumble of spices and styles in its ballsy pop with Don Knotts In A Wind Tunnel straight after  engaging in dirty rock ‘n’ roll with a certain Rocket From The Crypt fever to its irritable bawl and brass igniting flames. For us it is joy to be unable to pin a sound down, this pair alone showing Playboy Manbaby get just as big a kick from defeating any attempt whilst pleasing their own devious imaginations.

Dark rock ‘n’ roll brings the album’s closing treat of White Jesus to ears, its meandering stroll and creatively incisive accosting portrait of a certain new world leader initially Nick Cave/Tom Waits like before ending as a concussive explosion of Dead Kennedys toned ferocity and bedlam.

The last Playboy Manbaby single set up anticipation for Don’t Let It Be perfectly but barely hinted at the bold inescapable fun and adventure to be found, both which will be hard to find any better on any release across the rest of the year too we suspect.

Don’t Let It Be is out now on CD through Dirty Water Records and cassette from Lollipop Records @ https://lollipop-records.myshopify.com/products/playboy-manbaby-dont-let-it-be-cass with its digital outing available @ https://playboymanbaby.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/ButterGravyButter    https://twitter.com/playboymanbaby   http://playboymanbaby.com/

Pete RingMaster 03/03/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Playboy Manbaby – You Can Be A Fascist Too b/w I’d Like To Meet Your Parents

playboymanbaby_RingMasterReview

How to describe Playboy Manbaby? Hailing from Phoenix, Arizona, they are a six piece punk band where imagining the Banana Splits meets Swell Maps in cahoots with The Tuesday Club and Zebrahead feels the closest in portraying the band’s deliciously creative rioting. They are mayhem in the speakers, irreverence in the imagination and quite simply and as shown by their new single, irresistible.

Described as “the contradictory soundtrack to the contemporary life experience”, Playboy Manbaby is made up by the combined creative mania of Robbie Pfeffer (vocals), Chris Hudson (bass), TJ Friga (guitar), David Cosme (trumpet), Chad Dennis (drums), and Austin Rickert (sax). The past five years has seen the band steal the hearts and support of their local music scene and tear up stages alongside the likes of Mike Watt & The Missing Men, King Khan & BBQ Show, King Khan & The Shrines, Rocket From The Crypt, Thee Oh Sees, Cosmonauts, The Spits, Black Flag, The Descendents, The Replacements, The Slackers, Teenage Bottlerocket and many more. Grabbing major attention on broader landscapes has yet to find Playboy Manbaby, we ourselves only being introduced to them through latest proposal You Can Be A Fascist Too b/w I’d Like To Meet Your Parents, but thanks to the ever impressive discovery of talent by Dirty Water Records, things could be about to explode for the band.

art_RingMasterReviewWith new album Don’t Let It Be in the works, Playboy Manbaby tease the appetite with You Can Be A Fascist Too, the first single from the impending release. Originally scheduled for a February unveiling, it was brought forward to coincide with the US presidential inauguration. From the off it assaults and lures with a belligerent guitar jangle quickly followed by the raw incitement of Pfeffer’s vocals. Second by second new invasive hooks and salacious grooves fling themselves into the punk mayhem, band shouts and off kilter harmonies wagging a beckoning finger as effectively as the caustic riffs and tenacious rhythms.

The track is a treat and mischievous brawl easy to devour as too is its companion I’d Like To Meet Your Parents. In fact it just about steals the show with its less intrusive but just as virulent dexterity in sound and flirtation. Leading up to a chorus which needs mere seconds to recruit and chain listener participation, the song strolls with minimalistic yet alluring melodies and enticing hooks as vocals make a plaintive proposal with a similarly swinging canter. It is glorious stuff with a foot in seventies punk as the band’s unique modern day mania bellows.

Dirty Water Records have a growing reputation for the eclectic range of their releases, the Playboy Manbaby adding yet another thrilling facet and while becoming one of the label’s best singles yet.

You Can Be A Fascist Too b/w I’d Like To Meet Your Parents is out now on Dirty Water Records and through http://playboymanbaby.com/shop/ and https://playboymanbaby.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/ButterGravyButter   https://twitter.com/playboymanbaby

Pete RingMaster 01/02/2017

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