To date every Dirt Box Disco album has been a reason to romp and stomp, to unleash the instinctive punk and rocker inside with the British band’s own devilish intent. Of course their new proposal, Poppycock, is no different, a fifth album which turns body and spirit into a mischievously brawling blur of flying limbs, riotous fun, and lustful habits.
The Burton on Trent quintet has long established its own punk ‘n’ roll sound across four voracious albums and a host of EPs and singles. Fair to say that Poppycock brings more of that belligerent rock ‘n’ roll rascality but yet again the band manages to tap into something fresh. It is not necessarily a definable essence though the STP Records released album has a pop catchiness to its attitude loaded, middle finger raised rampage, but something which just gives the album its own character and the DBD sound a new twist.
In another year seeing the band relentlessly cause live havoc across the UK and Europe, DBD set it all up perfectly an album leaping upon ears with the same hunger as opener The Bullshit Kids bursts into life. Rambunctious rhythms and voracious riffs join group calls to get things started, a wiry vine of guitar temptation from Danny Fingers escaping the roar as the track spreads its bait. With lead vocalist Weab.I.Am standing antagonistically but invitingly astride the muscular stroll, band and track barge around with contagious revelry, DBD instantly showing they are still kings of the rebel rousing, listener involving chorus.
The following Finger Blast opens up with a Stiff Little Fingers like air, Deadbeatz Chris’ burly bassline and the swinging aggression of drummer Maff Fazzo courting the spicy hook and subsequent surge of caustic riffs set loose by Fingers and Spunk Volcano. Raw pop punk relishing its inbred rowdiness and sonic enterprise, the song has the body rocking and primed for the immediate incendiary incitement of Punk Rock Riot, a track as you would expect living up to its title with virulent aggression and anthemic contagion. With a slight whiff of The Adicts to it, the track is an inescapable persuasion to raise hell.
The excellent Little White Lie romances the senses with its multi-vocal union and warm textures next, all fuelled by the wilful and headstrong energy and sound expected of the band while its successor, Working For Wankers, has vocal chords at full volume in unity with its sentiment and defiance. Blending explosive and calm pastures, choppy riffs and melodic teasing leading to ferocious expulsions, the song has ears and appetite hooked within seconds, success equally found by the snarling Fat Kid with its carnal metallic riffs and toxic grooves.
DBD show their pure rock ‘n’ roll instincts with Snorting Crack From A Girls Top Rack, a virulent and raucous UK Subs/Sham 69 meets Showaddywaddy roistering providing an almost two minute spirit stirring yell. A pinnacle amongst only peaks, the track leaves body breathless and attitude inflamed ready for the lighter but still imposing incitement and swing of Lazy Bastard, its raw captivation subsequently eclipsed by the metal infused rock of Slapdash And Haphazard. Part pub rock, part hard rock, and all punk, the third of the three roars with creative zeal as sonic tendrils offer a scorching flame within the aggravated air of vocals and song.
The tenacious and uninhibited exploits of Geronimo are a bruising addictive charm to persistently knock around, as too the bolder poppy shenanigans of Imaginary Friend; both raffish sing-a-longs that vocals chords yearn for. The vociferously grouchy and rousing Somethings Are Better Left Unsaid is no different, its lures more metal nurtured but instantly involving rock ‘n’ roll to stride through the world with.
Poppycock closes with the tantalising swing and shuffle of I Hate This City, a ska/reggae kissed stroll with a touch of The Members and Ruts to its initial saunter. Boiling up with every passing second, the track hollers and thrills, and though it is not the best song on the album it leaves an irresistible and lingering imprint just impossible to shake off.
Upon the first listen or two of Poppycock, as impressive and highly enjoyable as it was, it seemingly did not make the same immediate impact as predecessors. That suggestion was soon dispelled as songs imposed their infectious claws in thoughts far away from their home in no time, returning as they pleased. Poppycock creeps up on you as well as creating a thrilling clamour in its presence while again Dirt Box Disco create musical havoc, emotional incitement, and the kind of rock ‘n’ roll that has body and heart stomping and howling with sheer pleasure.
Upcoming live shows:
Pete RingMaster 16/03/2017
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