Atomic Suplex – Fourteen Inches of Fist

Atomicsupplex_RingMaster Review

Great rock ‘n’ roll always benefits from a good dose of creative dementia in its devilry and you get plenty of that and more in the bedlam that is Fourteen Inches of Fist. The new album from London quartet Atomic Suplex is nonstop ingenious lunacy, a dangerous riot for body and soul, and quite brilliant.

The UK quartet has been stirring up sonic trouble for a number of years now, earning increasing acclaim with every release and a reputation as one ferociously exciting and uncompromising band live. Stages across the UK and Europe, as well as Asia, have been shared with the likes of The Hives, Guitar Wolf, The Gories, The Adolescents, Nobunny, The Kids, Jet Boys, Armitage Shanks, Richard Herring, The Spits, The Fat White Family, The Buzzcocks, Theee Bat amongst many more whilst singles and EP’s over time, and certainly acclaimed 2010 debut album Bathroom Party on Crypt Records, have marked the band out as a must investigation for a growing horde of fans. Now it is Fourteen Inches of Fist raising a storm since its recent release, and declaring Atomic Suplex as not a must but the essential riot for all rock ‘n’ roll fans.

Sound and album is garage rock, punk rock, noise rock…any kind of dirty, insatiable rock ‘n’ roll you can think of and a torrent of fun from its first to last breath. One Man Party kicks things off with the announcement “When I say I’m a dick, you best believe I’m a dick! D- I- K.” It sets the aggressive belligerent tone which rousingly fuels the whole album, and a song which is soon erupting into a salaciously tenacious slab of punk ‘n’ roll driven by the rousing tones of Jim Suplex. A sonic web of noise is soon grasping ears through his and Emma Leaning’s guitars whilst a gloriously throaty bass sound is conjured by Dan Suplex amidst the wicked swipes of drummer JD Kickdrum. The track is pure attitude, like early Damned merging with The Sonics, and instant slavery.

The album’s title track comes next, it too a concussive explosion of sound but this time infusing honky-tonk piano, blues rock spicing, and garage rock ‘n roll devilry into its mix of raw sixties and seventies rock ‘n’ roll. Flames of brass only add to the theatre of the muggy scenery as too the gritty backing vocals of Emma behind Jim’s raw incitement. As its predecessor, the track has ears and appetite lustful, a success 14 Inches of Fist relentlessly achieves from first song to last.

Cover_RingMaster Review   Set It On Fire has limbs scything through air next with seventies punk antagonism meets psych rock contagion, its guitars and brass a resourceful scorching, whilst Wild Love invites naughty deeds with a Rocket From the Crypt meets Dick Venom and the Terrortones infestation of sound. Both tracks are ridiculously compelling persuasive yet find themselves outshine by the outstanding Firing Line. The song is manna for the ears and heart, its Mighty Mighty Bosstones like opening alone igniting the instincts to party before rhythms provide a jungle of unstoppable temptation frequented by wonderful squirts of sax. They develop into subsequent deranged toxicity further in, colluding with a just as rigorously arousing web of guitar and bass enterprise. As ever like a side show barker, Jim adds his vocal stirring to the mix for one slice of irreverent creative alchemy.

Fifties inspired and seventies coloured rock ’n’ roll gets the Atomic Suplex corruption next, the raw and caustic devilment of S. U. P. L. E. X. a tempest of sonic and vocal raucousness pierced by melodic bait and fiery hooks. It is less than a minute and a half of catchy mayhem before Two Girls flirts like a punk incarnation of The Shangri-las tutored by The Rezillos. As all songs though, air is raw, sound scuzzy, and the encounter as abrasive as it is virulent, and again thrilling.

   J.D. Attack pounds the senses like the bastard son of a Showaddywaddy and Reverend Horton Heat union, its thumping rhythms and heavyweight brawl of sound one party you know would welcome gate crashers with devilish relish whilst the corrosively scarring Ass Tecnica is noise punk knavery which, as in the previous song, twists anything from surf and r&b to garage rock into its ravenous bellow. The pair unsurprisingly leave exhaustion and exhilaration in their wake, as too the eighteen second punk assault of No Pain No Gain, a song more than backing up its title.

Like The Cramps meets The Mobbs, You’ve Got Some Nerve has the body throwing moves hips were surely not made for across its forty odd seconds, a wonderful physical test followed by some respite through the hex that is Pancho. Sultry sax caresses ears initially though in no time it is joined by a wall of sonic intrigue and adventure which has a whiff of Oh! Gunquit to it. Continuing to spill funky hooks, searing grooves, and a garage bred invention; the song is as psychotic as it is clear infection, and another pinnacle of a very lofty landscape to Fourteen Inches of Fist.

Chicken Rich is a ragtime hued haunt seeded in the past which descends into anarchy the further its nostalgia persists whilst closing track White Shoes is quite simply incendiary rock ‘n’ roll which manages to spin a tapestry suggesting everyone from Billy Haley to The Cramps, King Salami and The Cumberland 3 to Turbonegro, and Screaming Jay Hawkins to Johnny Thunders within its epidemic of unbridled energy and senses inflaming rock ‘n’ roll.

Fourteen Inches of Fist is one of the best real and organic rock ‘n’ roll album this year and of a few before, maybe the best, and Atomic Suplex the one band you were meant to lose your sanity with.

Fourteen Inches of Fist is available now via Dirty Water Records on 12” vinyl, CD, and digitally.

RingMaster 25/08/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Dead Bundy and the Neat Neat Neats -Train To Paradise

DB

    Train To Paradise is the next stop on the ascent of infection brewing psychobillies Dead Bundy and the Neat Neat Neats, an album which builds on their impressive previous release Life Is Hard…Death Is Neat and stretches their sound in further thrilling extensions of flavour and melodic enterprise. Consisting of twelve varied and contagious slices of passion drenched rock n roll, it is an album which grabs ear and passions for a brawling, seducing, and mischievous encounter.

The Minneapolis quartet has induced a loyal and constantly building fanbase since forming around 2010, a following which has grown not only locally but across the US and world through internet recognition. Matthew Sprinkles, Chris Wilson, Cody Hillyard, and Matt Kalsnes, have bred strong recognition for their terrific live shows and equally their releases such as debut album Bad Moon Death Trip of 2011 and undoubtedly last year’s Life Is Hard…Death Is Neat. Fusing influences from the likes of Batmobile, The Quakes, Screaming Jay Hawkins, The Sharks, Mad Sin, and the Frantic Flintstones to their own distinctive rowdiness and invention, the band has continued to earn strong responses and acclaim which you can only see the new release accelerating within the genre.

Opener Graveyard Rhythm immediately grips the senses and feet for a romp across irresistible riffs and fiery melodic temptation whilst the vocals narrate the whole shadow soaked escapade. It is instantly infectious and insatiable in its want to have the listener leaping tombstones with rampant eagerness and a devilish swagger, its hooks and call virulently addictive and persuasive. It is prime psychobilly Dead Bundy style, the distinctive vocals and musical voice of the song taking over immediately where the last album left off ensuring the party is still raging with heat and compelling irresistibility.

The title track soon steps before the ear with southern twisted melodies and busy rhythms igniting the air and ear, its Tarantino movie like breath a persistent and unrelenting stroll down the railroad track of swiftly passing beats and riffs. The song is a delicious warm whisper with energetic hunger which marks the start of the variety and richer depths to the album which were arguably missing on the equally impressive Life Is Hard…Death Is Neat. It begins a ride of unpredictable and adventurous invention for the album with a course which is set well within the walls of psychobilly and rock n’ roll but offering diverse and refreshing sceneries immediately picked up by the following Shipwrecked and City Morgue. The first of the pair saunters in with big boned rhythms and a prowling gait to the bass within again raw melodic heat from the guitar. With vocals as strong a lure to participation as the hooks and barbed drum beckoning, the song is a tune hip swerving was invented for and its ingenious groove a template for lust. It successor raises the dead with another epidemic of addict making riff sculpted hooks and bold bass slaps whilst the mass invitation of the chorus defies death as an excuse not to participate with its punk riled temptation.

Only four songs in and the album has ignited the passions and fired up an even more intense appetite for the rest of the release, a greed soon satisfied by what is possibly the strongest and most magnetic part of what is a wholly captivating album. Dust N Bones leans on the ear with a lone guitar strolling out its notes within a hollowed pocket of air and soon joined by the as ever fine expressive vocals. The rolling beats pulls everything into full view as a western bred melodic tease winds around the senses, the song expanding its chest towards the dusty bold canter through potent and emotive adventure which takes over the course of the excellent song. It is an impossibly infectious lure soon matched and exceeded by the outstanding Dynamite, a song which lights the fuse to full ardour with sinew healthy rhythms, a commanding bass spine, and vocals harmonies which snatch and ignite the imagination. As it strides purposely through the ear the beats offer thoughts of King Kurt and elsewhere Guana Batz inspired melodic infectiousness, the union loaded with punk spawn confrontation for a sensational and album topping encounter…except it is then deposed by the quite masterful Mad Man.

The song teases with an instant delicious groove and subsequently bulging bass fascination to brew up an instant rapture which is soon boiling over as the track flexes its sides for a riotous yet controlled rampage. Hand in hand with the listener the song romps with wantonness to its hooks and rhythmic puppetry which has head and feet rocking like a dog in heat. The track is severe in its narcotic like appeal and one of the best songs within rock ‘n’ roll over recent years.

Both Getting Fucked Up and Pretty Boy Billy continue this new elevation of height for the release, the first with another controlling swing to its gait whilst the second rivals both Dynamite and Mad Man for bragging rights as top dog, though there was only ever going to be one winner. With the country rock lilted Hellbound, the mariachi whispering Ride, and Gimme Rock N Roll with its contents echoing its title, completing the album with strong and pleasing presences, Train To Paradise is a thrilling and inspiring bunch of impossible to restrain rock ‘n’ roll songs. With the release of the exceptional album and the Train To Paradise Tour across the US in its support right now, Dead Bundy and the Neat Neat Neats are looking at a massive and one suggests very successful year ahead.

https://www.facebook.com/DeadBundy

10/10

RingMaster 15/05/2013

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Dead Bundy and the Neat Neat Neats: Life Is Hard…Death Is Neat

Dead Bundy and ....

Providing a villainous canvas for the most essential of mischievous sounds Life Is Hard…Death Is Neat the latest album from Dead Bundy and the Neat Neat Neats has everything you could desire in a psychobilly riot. A collection of songs which are as compelling as they are the instigators of varied rock n roll flames, the album just grabs the heart and thrusts it into a bruising rampage of insatiable riffs, hungry rhythms, and heart borne passion. This is a record from a band which lives and breathes their sound and uses their open influences to corrupt and ignite the wickedest shadows within its willing victims.

The Minneapolis quartet is another band which lets the music do the talking with info about the band as scarce as the desire to behave within the album itself. The band does consist of Matthew Sprinkles, Chris Wilson, Cody Hillyard, and Matt Kalsnes, and employs influences from the likes of Batmobile, The Quakes, Reverend Horton Heat, Mad Sin, and Screaming Jay Hawkins amongst many, as well as a band which springs to mind often across the release, the Frantic Flintstones, to their own mastery. Life Is Hard…Death Is Neat is the follow up to 2011 album Bad Moon Death Trip, and was released last year making us late to its glory but better late than never right? They tag their sound as brundlebilly but whatever they want to call it their roguish conjurations are just essential treasures for all fans of rock n roll.

The eager and thrilling breath of Hexes And Hymns opens up the album, the track a brief instrumental charge which begins with 300gentle caresses before turning on the for pulsating guitar strokes, thumping rhythms, and a delicious whisper of discord throughout its twisted twang. It is a fiery start soon equalled and surpassed by the shadows gifted Evil Deeds And Demon Seeds. With a groaning hungry bass slapping resonance and an irresistible groove the song stomps through the ear with only thoughts of dragging the feet and passions of the listener into action, not that they need much persuasion when confronted by infection carrying sounds like this.

From there the album sets free one of its biggest pinnacles in a continual parade of highlights. Junglebella swings astride the senses with an insatiable energy and compulsive swagger, the vocals and guitar luring irresistible whilst the contagious chorus demands receives compliance from the throat of the listener with immediate effect. It is a sensational song which brings elements of The Meteors, Link Wray, and The Legendary Shack Shakers into play. The musicianship is as impressive as the viral persuasion at work throughout song and album and already only three songs into the release one feels the band is destined for the strongest recognition in their chosen genre if not further afield.

The sinew stretching Bruja with its crushing rhythms and flames of scorching guitar continues the now beyond simmering rapture, the track a muscular bruising with more addiction than primitive sexual urges…oh that is just us then…whilst the likes of the raw rockabilly furnace of Movie Monster and the country lilted evil of Bad Woman with its Dave Edmunds/Polecats like gait brings diverse enterprise and tingles to the release. The last of this trio starts as an old school toned treat which again leads one by the ear to embarrassing rhythmic expulsions on the dancefloor but midway intrigues and excites by twisting into a punkabilly storm which is a mix of Demented Are Go and The Living End.

As the album continues the songs Supernatural Man, She’s A Hellcat, and Road To Ruin only lead to further squeals of joy before another major triumph arrives in the graveyard romance of Bone Daddy. It is a glorious track which romps with sinister intent and deathly mischief. The irreverent vocal squalls and ever potent emotion playing bass prowl fires up the deepest passions whilst the heated hooks of the guitar conjurations pulls the heart into action like a satanic musical magnet.

Closing with the fine acoustic ballad Devils In The Dark, the album is an enthrallment with the highest rewards of pleasure attached to every note and rhythm. Only enthused acclaim can be laid upon Life Is Hard…Death Is Neat and a band in Dead Bundy and the Neat Neat Neats which makes the company of their nefarious creativity as essential as breathing.

https://www.facebook.com/DeadBundy

RingMaster 17/01/2013

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

King Salami And The Cumberland 3: Fourteen Blazin’ Bangers

With an interview with the high octane bundle of energy that is King Salami in the offing it is only right we take a look at the recent album from King Salami And The Cumberland 3. To be honest it came out in the tail end of last year but having looked for an excuse to delve back a few months and share this simply brilliant explosion of irresistible and excitable sounds an interview seems a good enough reason. Fourteen Blazin’ Bangers is music at its best and what it was invented for, to ignite the deepest pleasure and thrills possible within each and every one of us.

Formed in 2006 the quartet of one Japanese, one French, one Caribbean and one Spanish conjurors of fun, draw influences and flavours from the fifties and sixties and spice them up with their own contagious blend of insatiable ingenuity and energy. Consisting of former members of the Ulcers, Chinese Lungs and Parkinsons, The Cumberland 3 led by the irrepressible King Salami leave one breathless and over excited with their album. Released on Dirty Water Records Fourteen Blazin’ Bangers is a wonderfully agitated swell of movement, its brief to unleash an unrelenting explosion of infection and hyperactive melodic pleasure.

King Salami And The Cumberland 3 has riled up hearts and emotions all across Europe with the sharing of stages with the likes of The Pretty Things, The Trashmen, The Standells, The Mummies, The Bellrays, and The Cynics to name a few. Renowned for their irresistible live performances and sweat drizzled excitement, the band have translated that energy and insistent mischief into their previous singles and now this album. It brings the essence of having the band there in front of you as it plays with your senses whilst firing up the need and urgency to catch them on stage.

The album explodes into the ear with Do The Wurst, an instantaneous assault of punk fuelled rhythm & blues/rockabilly. The beats and rhythms assume full control of limbs like a maniacal puppeteer instantly whilst the guitars fire up the aggression and attitude expected from a meeting of Screaming Jay Hawkins and The Meteors. The track has one joining in with movement and voice within mere seconds and even has the most composed and reserved of us flinging a few air guitar chords into the heated air. It is the perfect opening and sets the album up for greatness no matter what follows. To be honest the album only took a couple of songs to make a believer and adoring fan of us here so excuse the drool dripping from each and every word we place upon it.

The excellent I Smell A Rat with its raw and hungry breath searches for the ear next. With garage caked intensity to the guitars it leaves a big grin on the face though not as wide as from the following Mojo Workout. If you could have improper thoughts about a song this would be the one at the centre, a bristling irresistible slice of naughtiness. King is supreme leading the thoughts and emotions into trouble like a mischievous big brother ably assisted and egged on by the rest of the band.

Every song deserves close attention as not once does the manic party within the album lull or slip into a reserved moment, but those pleasures are for you to find out and feel. The more fiery highlights though include songs like the wanton sax pleasuring of They Don’t Know, the tribal contagion that is Pawnee Stomp, the Big Bopper/Screaming Lord Sutch glory of Watcha Gonna Do Tomorrow, and Sweet Love To You where Gene Vincent meets Ray Campi and The Blue Cats in a salacious love nest.

A twisting and energetic boiling brew of rockabilly, rhythm & blues, punk, and explosive rock n roll    Fourteen Blazin’ Bangers is simply magnificent and the surest fullest pleasure one can have within the ear. With spices and passion from the likes of James Brown, Sonny Burgress, The Sonics, and The Frantic Flintstones to name a mere few you can easily tell the vibrant and pulsating sounds within the album. King Salami And The Cumberland 3 are the match to fire up every day and heart; you just need to say hi.

https://www.facebook.com/KingSalamiandtheCumberland3

RingMaster 23/05/2012

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Thee Gravemen – Thee Gravemen

 

You cannot get much more simple a set up than offered by trash rock ‘n’ roll band Thee Gravemen or anything as incessantly infectious. Consisting of just a senses cruising guitar and insistent primal beats the duo from the UK, now Malmo, Sweden based, with their self titled album have created a release that knows its sound, loves its sound and is determined you will too.

Thee Gravemen were formed in the autumn months of 2009 by guitarist and vocalist Sir Lee Tea and drummer Devilish Daz Trash, who initially were just doing a one off gig as a duo. Luckily they decided to continue though it was through the lack of finding a suitable stand up bass player as much as anything that tipped the decision to remain a twosome. Behind them the musicians have a good pedigree with Tea having been part of the garage rock band Thee Exciters as well as currently part of Swedish r&b band The Branded, and Trash having been part of UK psychobilly/punk band Skitzo, under the name of Strut. As Thee Gravemen the pair have unleashed a raw and uncomplicated fusion of garage punk, psychobilly and coarse surf veined fuzzed up rock ‘n’ roll, a dirty and boisterous sound that sears the flesh and resonates within the bones.

As can be imagined the songs come from the darkest shadows of the two, the lyrics borne from horror movies, wicked intent and from beneath disturbed ground. The album grabs with an icy clawed grip from the opening ‘Hey There Pretty Baby’ to squeeze and tease, resisting the urge to let go right until the last lingering note of the album passes on. The opening track is relatively subdued compared to what follows throughout the rest of the album but it is immediately noticeable that the production though unfussy and pretty straight forward gives a rich generally full sound, in a way surprising considering the scarcity of instruments.

The album buzzes and crawls over the senses through track after track and though the core of the music is a set spine each song comes from different and enticing angles. ‘Come On’ is a slightly darker track than the opener and reminds of 80’s band The Orson Family whilst the instinctive rhythm led ‘Digging Graves’ has a scuzzed up garage energy that recalls their former bands in many ways.

There is not a weak track on the album; each having their own heart of siren like appeal though it is the beat and rhythm led tracks that make the strongest connection. The pulse beat stomp of ‘Friday At The Hideout’ and the voodoo raw primal rhythms of ‘My Girlfriend Is A Werewolf’, both with a Guana Batz meets Screaming Jay Hawkins like vibe lift the excitement higher but it is when the band go into the realms of The Cramps that they really stand out. ‘My Witch’ is glorious with its distinct twang as distinctly manipulative as the song’s character and ‘Six Feet Down’ alongside the outstanding ‘Shake It’ rip through the ear with primitive ease. The band’s cover of ‘Green Fuzz’ is equally excellent; a very valiant version of The Cramps’ version that easily exceeds the Randy Alvey & Green Fuz original.

Complete with another cover in the hypnotic shape of the Sandy Nelson song ‘Let There Be Drums’ and the immensely fun outro track with after a moments breath ends with a track that sounds like a fictional nightmare when Demented Are Go’s Sparky popped his cherry with Eugene Reynolds of The Revillos, the album is simply fantastic. Released on Dirty Water Records it makes no demands or offers any unnecessary frills but just feeds the soul with inspiring, mischievous and thoroughly essential rock ‘n’ roll.

RingMaster 11/02/2012

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