Hell Fire Jack – Chains

It is dirty, raw, and unforgiving or in the words of the band itself, “Brutal Blues” which escapes the creative throes of ‘angry bastards, loud as Hell’ British duo Hell Fire Jack. It is also one compelling trespass on the senses and emotions which has come to a glorious head in the band’s debut album Chains. Imagine Seasick Steve infested by the spirit of Lux Interior as The Hangmen infuse their own devilry and you get a sense of the rapacious roar at the heart of the band’s first full-length.

Formed in 2012, Hell Fire Jack is vocalist/guitarist Alex Trewhitt and drummer Josef Karl, a pair from Yorkshire creating addictive toxic sounds which sizzle on the senses as they get rhythmically bitch slapped. It is not for those who want their music to be a comfort; an easy going escape without danger but for those who love to feel threatened whilst rocking out like a dog in heat, Chains is a thrilling demonic puppeteer.

It is also an album which simply blossoms song by song, each bringing something fresh and varied to the blues heart which breeds their predacious incitements. It is not just the sound which lures the listener into the dark, lyrically songs find seeds in “mental instability, insecurity and a constant struggle with modern life” to provide an intimacy which works away at thoughts just as the music gets under the skin and into the psyche.

As you might have surmised, we were seriously taken by Chains, it gripping attention and appetite from pretty much the first deep breath of opener Hell-O. The coarse but inviting riffs of Trewhitt’s guitar quickly lead ears into the waiting lures of his wiry grooves and the swing of Karl’s fevered beats. The former’s vocals are soon similarly magnetic, the pair creating a rousing concussive stroll leading feet and hips into fevered antics as shadows crawl the imagination. The track is irresistible, a stirring roar of blues and garage punk trespassing air and listener with every essence shared.

Cyborg swaggers in next, every beat a shuddering lead, each riff a rapacious scour on the senses but it all as virally infectious as the vocals cruising the inescapable persuasion. As the song epitomises, there is a great nagging quality to Hell Fire Jack propositions, an imaginative persistence which has body and appetite bouncing, and success Dark Horse only emulates. Its initial atmospheric smog is soon pierced by Karl’s anthemic swipes, it all building to caustic catchiness spewed by the guitar in an In The Whale/ Dick Venom & The Terrortones spiced shuffle.

The sonic liquor of Old Whiskery echoes assumptions going by its title, a sonic intoxication which deviously flirts in groove, voice, and beat while The Hustle chugs along with many similar traits of its predecessors to equal if less striking effect. It is familiarity though which gives Hell Fire Jack its individuality and incites a greed for more as words and syllables persistently bite within it all.

A sonic liquor swollen party comes in the shape of Don’t Come Knocking next, the track harrying the senses as a rousing vocal assault grips the imagination. It swiftly has its hand on best track heights before losing that honour to the quite brilliant Mr. Sinister. The track is horror blues punk alchemy, a proposition to breed lust over even with there being something indefinably recognisable about it.

Through the controlled but open sonic fever of Take a Hold and the predatory intimation of Sunday Best the album only reinforces its potency and persuasion though neither song can quite live up to the previous slices of rock ‘n’ roll manna. Each so they just grip attention with their varied enterprise, the following Lock and Key with its old school hues and garage punk dexterity then matching their heights with its composed but incisive swing.

Another major highlight is sprung with Better the Devil, its atmospheric, haunting melodic welcome alone enough to crow about but adding the subsequent tempestuous landscape and the Danzig-esque spicing which grips its tenacious blues prowl and the track simply escalates in character and prowess as well as impressiveness.

The album’s title track brings things to a close, a song which crawls through ears and thoughts with the instinctive infection of old school rock n’ roll and the lithe meandering of blues rock, it all boiling up and igniting in sonic blazes which sear the senses. Enthralling second by second, the track is rock ‘n’ roll at its basest and most compelling and a transfixing close to one thrilling release.

Hell Fire Jack never truly hit the brakes with their high octane attack and sound but when they do give them a nudge, you get taken to the darkest most seductively menacing places. Simply put Chains is a real pleasure pretty much like no other.

Chains is released February 14th on iTunes and @ http://hellfirejack.bigcartel.com/

Upcoming live dates:

Sat Feb 17 Hell Fire Jack album launch party, Harrogate, United Kingdom

Tue Feb 27 Lending Room @ The Library, Leeds, United Kingdom

Fri Apr 6 Al’s Dime Bar, Bradford, United Kingdom

Fri Apr 20 Verve, Leeds, United Kingdom

Sat Apr 28 THE FERRET, Preston, United Kingdom

http://www.hellfirejack.com/    https://www.facebook.com/hellfirejackband/    https://twitter.com/Hell_Fire_Jack

Pete RingMaster 06/02/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

My Baby – Shamanaid

Pic Bart Heemskerk

Pic Bart Heemskerk

A few weeks back, preparing to be stirred up by the ever compelling dishevelled gentleman of blues, Seasick Steve at London Apollo Hammersmith, a majestic and fiery blues hex descended on ears and emotions in the shape of My Baby. Hailing from the Netherlands, the trio of Cato van Dyck, Joost (Sheik) van Dyck, and Daniel (Da Freez) Johnston were the announced support but unexpected intoxication infesting body and imagination with their delta blues seeded, rousing funk fuelled prowess. Fair to say My Baby rocked the walls and all between that night and sparked hungry attention on their just as recently released second album, Shamanaid. It has proven to be a proposition which more than lives up to the promise and anticipation bred through the forty minutes or so of their company that evening whilst revealing much more of the depth and adventure in the My Baby sound.

With its members bred in a Dutch and New Zealand climate, My Baby came together with a mutual lust for “fingerpickin’ guitars, voodoo, roots, funk, gospel and Southern swampy blues”. 2013 saw the release of debut album My Baby Loves Voodoo! via Embrace Recordings, its emergence greedily received and devoured and the spark to a global tour and shows from Texas to Tokyo, London to Lichtenvoorde, and Vienna to Wellington. My Baby also found itself embraced by radio stations and invited to support Henny Vrienten, as well as play on his latest release. The recent tour with Seasick Steve has enveloped the unveiling of Shamanaid, My Baby nudging the broadest fevered attention yet for their psyche inciting sound through said live adventure and even more potently with the provocative shamanic lures of the album.

The exceptional Seeing Red sets the spellbinding experience in motion, its first touch enslaving bait alone as dulled but pungent beats escort a spicy strum of guitar. Their combined lure embraces the magnetic tones of Cato next; her delivery and syllables dancing on the strands of rhythmic and acoustic coaxing like a temptress. The repetitious core of the song proceeds to bounce like a metronome inside ears and head, trapping both as melodies flirt with thoughts through their picturesque craft. The Louisiana air of the band’s sound is just as spicy as the enterprise if breeds, the song increasingly binding the listener in inescapable charm and seduction whilst it’s infectious shuffle, well that has the body enthralled from its first moment.

01_front_digipack_Reputation Radio/RingMaster Review   The thrilling start is matched by the calmer but sultrier melodic waters of Meet Me At The Wishing Well. From the first moment a bewitching hook shines from within another minimalistic but pungent rhythmic and riffs lined stroll. Whereas live the band roared like a lioness, the record sees My Baby explore more their acoustic imagination and skills, the second song a radiant affair for ears and emotions. The shimmer of sound and richness of vocals make for a reflective hug which has body swerves and foot taps as eager as ears and thoughts are at the hands of the lyrical and vocal painting.

Variety and potency is kept ablaze by Uprising next, its blues flaming and dub infused tenacity an incendiary proposal which whether the song swims on a melodic breeze or erupts in an impassioned furnace, only intensifies and incites with blues alchemy. The track has been a thick lure into the album, an easy to see success such the unstoppable and fierce mesmerism on ears and emotions fuelling every aspect and twist of its triumph.

A mellower but no less tempting kiss comes next with The Doors Of Your Mind, its smouldering air and reflective blend of words and vocals a tantalising croon which simply slips under the skin. Offering more evidence that My Baby is as skilled and poetic laying a gentle evocative hand on ears as they are stirring up blood and energy, the song makes way for the similarly delicate Mary Morgan. There is a livelier vivacity to the richly hued encounter but matches its predecessor in vocal adventure as well as brewing a melodic tonic as colourful as the lyrical tale exposed by Cato.

Remedy flirts with an initial spatial coaxing next, rhythms adding alluring shadows as Cato’s harmonies inflame the air. Eventually a slight but definite tribalistic tenacity merges with a fascinating web of blues expression created by guitars; the slide version a lip smacking tangy seducing against the darker hues of bass and the ever anthemic rhythms. There is an intensive varying of styles and persuasion across the album, far more than found in the band’s first full-length; all songs making fascinating and empowering propositions, and especially here providing an unrelenting lifting of spirit and energy for the listener before the poetic elegance of Hidden From Time lies down beside ears and envelops them in its beauty.

The rhythmic saunter and sonic temptation of 6X2 slips in next, voice and guitar entwining with a blend of gospel and blues rooted serenading. As ever there is an edge to it all though, a raw and uncorrupted essence taken from the roots of all flavours woven into song and album. Once again musical hypnotism is at work as, like all songs within Shamanaid, it removes the listener from the real world for an instant or two before handing them over to the just as potent escape of Marching. With a relaxed but inescapable swing and an anthemic might to its seductive chorus, the track is a puppeteer to body and soul, only releasing its lingering grip when the closing Panggajo brings its worldly mystique and spirit to arrest ears and imagination.

The song is an enchanting end to a treat of an encounter more than living up to hopes seeded seeing My Baby live. Shamanaid does not have the fierce roar and volatile energy of their live show but ventures into a just as thrilling and gripping acoustic/melody exploration. It also shows a big leap in sound and imagination from its highly pleasing predecessor. My Baby is aural voodoo indeed with the sweetest toxicity.

Shamanaid is out now via Embrace Recordings @ https://mybaby.bandcamp.com/album/shamanaid

http://www.mybabywashere.com https://www.facebook.com/MYBABYMUSIC

RingMaster 11/06/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Listen to the best independent music and artists on The RingMaster Review Radio Show and The Bone Orchard on Reputation Radio @ http://www.reputationradio.net

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LkXLLpT2OSY&feature=youtu.be&a

David Sinclair Four – 4

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The fourth album from David Sinclair and the first with his band as a quartet, 4 is one of those encounters which makes a decent first proposal and then with increasing tenacity continues to endear itself to ears and thoughts over time. The David Sinclair Four release contains ten varied and highly flavoursome slices of rock ‘n’ roll which spring from a blues rock seeding but never restrict their enterprise to any single musical colour. Equally there is a feel good factor which fuels songs looking at and springing from the diverse culture of the artist’s home, London; the result of all essences together being one enjoyable proposition.

The current band line-up came together in 2013, bassist Jos Mendoza and guitarist Geoff Peel linking up with vocalist/guitarist Sinclair and his drummer son Jack, their addition turning the David Sinclair Trio into the David Sinclair Four. Before this the band had already released a trio of acclaimed albums in the shape of Hey (2006), Threewheeling (2008), and Take Me There (2013). Live too the band has been a greedily devoured proposal and list playing with the likes of Wilko Johnson, the Oli Brown Band, Marcus Bonfanti, Johnny Dowd, Graham Bonnet, and Willie Nile amongst many on their CV. Now the four-piece are setting about bringing the summer a healthy stroll of rock to swagger along through their new album, a release easy to see following its predecessors in drawing the plaudits.

The album opens with Sick Of Being Good and an initial potent caress of guitar to awaken ears. Imagination is swiftly stirred too by a subsequent sturdier stroll of energy and sound led by an infectiously enticing hook. The song continues to lure in appetite and attention with its blues hued catchiness and David’s vocals, backed well by the band. There are few surprises in the song but plenty to get hungry teeth into with an expressive guitar invention, warm harmonies, and colourful enterprise shaping every twist of the song.

The strong start is matched by the following treat of The Click-Clack Man. The tale about a character on the search to meet I am led to believe Tom Waits; the song has a seductive swing and resourceful adventure to its quickly enslaving presence. Hooks and grooves create an inescapable web to which a deliciously roving darkly toned bassline and crisply swung beats add further drama and temptation. The song is irresistible to feet and emotions, the biggest highlight on the album though often rivalled.

The sultry blues climate of next up Life Gone Cold brings further variety to the album, its slow saunter equipped with fiery flames of guitar and emotive intensity. It does not have the spark of the first two songs though but with again mouth-watering guitar craft and potent rhythmic bait alongside straight-forward and easily accessible lyrics, ears held easily before being excited again by Crude Emotion. Rhythmically muscular and casting a heavy stride from its first breath, the song is another unveiling of contagion posing as grooves and hooks. The swing of its body is an incitement to physical participation and the funk infused chorus bait to a vocal union, as band and track create another major moment within 4.

The excellent Down By The Canal comes next, and swiftly transfixes as the excellent guest vocals of Maxi Priest flirt with ears alongside the tones of David. The song’s reggae hued scenery is just as magnetic, drawing a swift smile with its engaging revelry before making way for the blues smoulder of World Turns Around. The harmonica of Paul Jones, another guest on the album, is a spicy flirtation matched by the fiery craft and sounds uncaged by Peel as the song swerves with the persuasion of a temptress within ears. Both tracks entice and reward enjoyably whilst providing further fresh textures and creative ventures within the album.

The remainder of the album for personal tastes does not quite match up to what comes before, though songs like The Illness & The Cure and Give Me A Rose which follow, only provide easy to consume and enjoy offerings with their individual blues rock spiced ventures. They just do not have the extra ingredient to ignite these particular ears, feeling a little flat against the quality sounds earlier in the release. It will obviously not be the same for everyone though and there is nothing less than enjoyment gained from the tracks or the closing pair of Coming Out Of The Rain and Coming Off The Rails, they also strong and enjoyable encounters but again just do not have that extra ingredient found in other songs upon the album. The penultimate song sees David dueting with Lorna Reid, who also co-wrote the song, their union another flavoursome delight, whilst the closing song again embraces the vibrant flair of Paul Jones.

The bottom-line though is that 4 is one highly satisfying and at times addictive encounter, David Sinclair and co’s finest moment yet and a definite recommendation for blues rock ‘n’ roll fans with an appetite for others like Paul Weller, The Rolling Stones, The Kinks and especially on the guitar and blues side, Seasick Steve.

4 is available now via IRL @ http://irl.bigcartel.com/product/david-sinclair-four-4 and on most online stores.

https://www.facebook.com/DavidSinclairFour   http://www.davidsinclairfour.com/

RingMaster 12/05/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Listen to the best independent music and artists on The RingMaster Review Radio Show and The Bone Orchard on Reputation Radio @ http://www.reputationradio.net

Jackson Firebird – Cock Rockin’

Jackson Firebird 3 - Credit Cybele Malinowski

Credit Cybele Malinowski

With no demands and intentions other than to rock its balls from start to finish, Cock Rockin’ the debut album from Australian rockers Jackson Firebird, is one of those slabs of straight forward honest rock ‘n’ roll which you always have a hunger for before realising. Consisting of ten passion rifling slices of blues bred rock, the album is a riotous party come brawl with something for every type of rock fan. It is a flavoursome morsel for anybody with a taste of the Kings Of Leon to The Black Keys, Led Zeppelin to Eagles Of Death Metal, Seasick Steve to Rage Against The Machine. The Victoria hailing band and their album has already seduced the homeland and now with its worldwide release via Napalm Records, Jackson Firebird is about to enflame the rest of us.

The band consists of guitarist/vocalist Brendan Harvey and drummer/vocalist Dale Hudak; the two meeting when Harvey and the band he was in, was in Adelaide to record some demos minus their drummer. The band ended up calling up Hudak who learned the songs in the car on the way to the studio. The pair continued to play together, jamming out the back of a family owned bakery. It was 2006 though when Jackson Firebird was officially born, new songs and gigs soon thrusting the band’s sound and increasing reputation across local venues, Adelaide, and subsequently the east coast. The duo went on to share stages with the likes of You Am I, King Cannons, the Snowdroppers, Little Birdy, and the Fumes before settling down to record their first release, a five-track EP. Jump forward and as mentioned earlier Cock Rockin’ has already been uncaged and recruited the fullest acclaim and new passions down under with its release in 2012, and now is the time for the rest of us to stomp with its insatiable bait.

The two pronged stripped down attack immediately hits the spot and appetite with the opening title track, its raw energy and full-on 524_JacksonFirebird_CMYKmischievous passion of the song reminds of another duo, The Black Frame Spectacle from Canada, though sound wise they are more rockabilly seeded. The song rampages with riffs and rhythms flailing in the hungry energy, from the very first second never relinquishing its feverish persuasion until the last heated note, even in the incendiary slow blues prowl midway. The vocals are as vibrant and slightly grizzled as the sound, a nice causticity stalking their surface fitting in perfectly with the fire bred hues of blues guitar in solo and rampant riffery.

The impressive start is potently backed by both She Said and Rock Solid, the first moving in on a virulent roll of drum enticement soon smothered in the acidic flames of guitar, that blues twang again enticing appetite and emotions over the unrelenting rhythmic incitement. As in all the songs simplicity rides the passions as eagerly as the more involved craft of Harvey’s solos; that repetitive bait especially tempting across the second song as it leads into its greedily agreeable climax. Its successor opens on a recognisable groove, and it is fair to say that there is plenty on Cock Rockin’ that is familiar as well as original but nothing comes in any shade other than that unique to Jackson Firebird. The track simmers and strolls with melodic lips kissing the senses and a sonic fingering stroking all the naughty bits of satisfaction, their potency matched by the almost Graham Parker like vocals and a constant southern bred entanglement.

Quan Dang forces it’s might through the ears next, an instant RATM inspired attack breeding vocals and the opening groove before entwining itself with a bolder hard/glam rock swagger. It is, like so many on the album, an irresistible encounter which has feet and voice willing cohorts to its infectious revelry, just as the following Red Light and the irrepressible Little Missy. The first of this pair restrains its intensity a little more than others though darkens its shadows for a thicker encounter with choppy riffs and meandering melodic scorches. There is certain sultriness to the song too, a salacious element matching the title as it raises the temperature before the second song opens up a sinewed temptation of rock ‘n’ roll bruising which is as much Chuck Berry like as it is Black Crowes suggesting.

Can Roll bares its swagger and heart next, rhythms a magnetic incitement welcoming in imagination and the rich sonic enterprise of Harvey, both he and Hudak laying out anthemic bait which takes no prisoners or accepts no for an answer. Its virulence is not quite matched by Goin Out West, at first at least, it’s opening country rock walk with a bluesy climate a simple engagement initially but something which suddenly explodes into an unbridled stomp of forcibly kicking beats and entrancing sonic tendrils of suasion. The track brews its toxin along the way so by its departure thoughts and passions are infected for a long term ardour.

The album finishes with an equally potent flourish, Sweet Eloise a song soaked in blues venom and rhythmic enslavement whilst offering another Zack de la Rocha like vocal tempting, and the raw Red Hair Honey which simply sears and ignites ears and passions like a wanton temptress. It is a scintillating end to a wholly thrilling introduction to one of Australia’s previously best kept secrets. That secrecy is no longer now as Jackson Firebird struts across the globe with, as their album says, its Cock Rockin’.

http://www.jacksonfirebird.com/

9/10

RingMaster 28/03/2014

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Listen to the best independent music and artists on The RingMaster Review Radio Show and The Bone Orchard from

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Electric Woodland – Potrero

Electric Woodland Cover Artwork

Having impressed a great many with their self-titled EP of 2011, Norwegian rock band Electric Woodland take things further into richer potency with first album Potrero. A ten track mixture of classic rock and metal infused with an equally vintage soaking of blues, the release is a magnetic lure for the imagination which though a little undulating in its heights has all the craft and invention not forgetting compelling sound, to push the Skogbygda band right up to the coat tails of the likes of The Black Keys and Them Crooked Vultures. It is an absorbing encounter which seduces the passions with an infectiousness and enterprise which at times lingers and seduces long after its departure to make for one memorable and easy to re-engage with pleasure.

Electric Woodland came to be in 2009 taking influences from the likes of The Doors, Deep Purple, and as is openly evident, The Black Keys into their fiery melodies and carefully sculpted sound. As mentioned their EP placed a certain focus and success on the quartet of vocalist/guitarist Peder Kjaernli, bassist Marius Nordby, guitarist Christian Olsen-Ruud, and drummer Emil Kjaernli, from which they have stretched and driven on their imagination and songwriting on the new album. Recording Potrero on analogue tape at the barn studio of Norwegian Grammy winners Amund and Henrik Maarud, Electric Woodland tease and seduce with the emerging album though not always to the same strength throughout admittedly. nevertheless the Snaxville Recordings release is relentlessly captivating and resourcefully appetising.

As soon as the heated guitar strokes cup the ears opener Heavy Eyes gives more than a hint of what is too come, their blues kissed tones an immediate lure caged by punchy beats and additional acidic melodic enticement  prowled through by the great bass tones of Nordby. The guitars sculpt a reserved yet stomping gait which simply magnetises the senses and imagination, a Queens Of The Stone Age swagger and seduction woven into the sonic bait with the vocals only adding to its essence. There is also a classic bred familiar sound to the song though one evading definition of its source, the band’s influences maybe simply breeding a recognisable air to the refreshing endeavour making the strongest persuasion.

The following Bad Shoe not only cements the impressive start but takes it to another level to fully open up a hunger within the already emerged appetite for the release. Once again guitars make the initial contact before vocal harmonies caress the ears and Peder Kjaernli opens up his fine voice for the brewing narrative. There is a definite rockabilly feel to the core stroll and vocal delivery, a rock ‘n’ roll stance to which melodies and sonic expression weaves and stokes its evocative flames and textures. Not for the first or last time the guitar play is constant bait alongside the mutually gripping rhythms and barbed hooks that litter the song and album throughout.

After the slow burner This House, a track which smoulders and writhes within its blues crafted opening shell before holding a breath and erupting into an excellent brazen melodic lined dusty romp of again QOTSA like scuzz filtered energy, Have You Seen My Baby pushes the blues coloured walls of the release to another diverse depth. The song with its romping rhythms led by the great throaty bass feels like a major anthem for the band within moments, the guitars and emerging keys casting a spellbinding tide of invention over the ears. Drummer Emil Kjaernli is an attention grabbing key to the song though everything about it is an irresistible hook for the passions, the track best described as Seasick Steve meets The Black Keys with Kyuss in close attention.

From here the album goes into a bit of a lull though really it is just that the likes of To You, Humbread, and Old Airplane do not manage to light the same potent fires as their predecessors like those before. All tracks are superbly written and crafted, each providing moments and lures which certainly recruit eager attention and a want to engage them again and again, especially the first two of that selection, but each lacking the spark to raise the same emotions as before. That is something the song Electric Woodland has no problem with, the song another classic to rival the opening pair. The rhythmic onslaught lays the first inescapable trap, the drums a commanding provocateur soon aided in its mission by the grizzled riffs and the ever alluring vocals. There is a predation to the song which never leaves the listener alone, a niggling persistence which you can only devour greedily as the song, safe in its knowledge it has you hooked, paints a melodic venture with stoner tendencies and blues mixed hues. It is a brilliant reminder of just how good this band is and will be.

Closing with the decent enough acoustic folk bred song Dog Without A Bone, a slight Arctic Monkeys air to its elegance, Potrero is an exciting and deeply satisfying release, one which marks out Electric Woodland as a band which has to be paid attention to. The album suggests as the band grows it is just the appetiser for greater things to come; our lips already being licked in anticipation.

www.facebook.com/pages/Electric-Woodland/128747150525584

www.electricwoodland.com

8/10

RingMaster 07/12/2013

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Listen to the best independent music and artists on The RingMaster Review Radio Show and The Bone Orchard from

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