Wizard Rifle – Self Titled

Like a sonic devil they tempt your pigeonholing and defining of their sound and with the same Mephistophelian glee side step every attempt with their infernal webs of sound. They are Oregon rockers Wizard Rifle and their latest album epitomises their devilish conjuring of creative deception. Their self-titled offering also provides one of the most rousing and thrilling encounters of the year. Their sound is punk, sludge rock, psych and thrash punk, noise rock, metal and much more besides in one cacophonous temptation; quite simply it is feral rock ‘n’ roll and across forty four minutes pure contagion.

Emerging in Portland in 2009, Wizard Rifle are no newcomers to high praise as their electric live presence, which has seen them share stages with the likes of The Melvins, High On Fire, YOB, Lightning Bolt, Bongzilla, Buzzov*en, Black Cobra, and Church of Misery, over time has been accompanied by two well-received full-lengths in Speak Loud Say of 2012 and Here in the Deadlight two years later. Now the duo of guitarist/vocalist Max Dameron and drummer/vocalist Sam Ford are ready to take on the world with a release which embraces the building blocks of its predecessors and shapes a proposition which defies convention, relishes devouring expectations, and sets out its own unique agenda in virulent noise.

Rocket to Hell ignites the babel of sound devouring the senses from with the album though there is no confusion in its creation and enterprise. The opener teases from its first breath with the plucking of guitar strings, the gentle lure the persuasive deceit before the ferocious babble of sound momentarily waiting to erupt. And break out it does with ravenous intent; the pair’s united vocals as harmonious as they are untamed as around them sonic squalls casts melodic and sonic temptation as raw as it is virulent. The track continues to infectiously nag as it rapaciously ravages, that tempest of flavours previously mentioned blended into a predacious trespass strapped with the keenest of hooks and salacious grooves.

As discord and melody craftily entangle it is a glorious incitement and matched by that within the following Cevaman Waltz. Rhythms prowl as a chugging guitar goes eye to eye with instincts, a devious grin lining rapid grooves and an epidemic of infection while equally compelling vocals ride its hungry currents. Again it is a mix which nags and harries but with less voracity than its predecessor though that is replaced by a pressure of urgency which only accelerates by the minute until erupting in a cyclone of wild and fertile commotion with those original grooves still steering the greed for the band’s invention.

A Celtic spicing infects the compelling landscape of next up Beneath the Spider, its emprise a tapestry of rabid intent and collected melodic dexterity spun with craft and imagination. There is a great manipulation to the Wizard Rifle sound, its hooks and grooves an infestation of the body as melodic irreverence grip the imagination and no more inescapable and powerful than within the eight minutes making up this slice of potent incitement.

The next twelve minutes plus comes in the shape of Funeral of the Sun, the closing cyclonic tempest of the previous track reaped of its incessant sonic persecution by the opening bait of its successor. Dangling acidic guitar lures it entices and then devours in swirls and expulsions of creative ruthlessness and barbarity but an assault which is pure untamed catchiness. Similarly vocals harmoniously invite and venomously bite before the progressive heart of the track emerges to just as potently seduce. The tide of noise cannot be abated for long and it returns but with a much more melodic breath. Pure fascination exudes the track, which never suffers in its length, as pleasure floods ears before it.

V concludes the release, psychedelic seducing radiating from within its intrepid venture of sound and ambition. Seductive and fierce, subtle and bold, the track provides an unpredictable multi-textured furnace of flavour and captivation.

Wizard Rifle’s album is a glorious contradiction; it is animatingly wild yet cleverly composed, boldly untethered but chained to distinct imagination and craft. It is also another of the year’s major pleasures which should see the band burst beyond previous boundaries of attention.

The Wizard Rifle album is out now via Svart Records; available @ https://wizardrifle.bandcamp.com

https://www.facebook.com/wizardrifle/

Pete RingMaster 06/09/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Suspects – Recovery EP

Press Shot Kana Waiwaiku

It has not taken us long to find a firm and eager appetite for the releases and sounds coming out of UK label Cool Thing Records; a hunger borne from ear grabbing releases courtesy of its owners, the outstanding Asylums, as well as those of The Horse Heads, BAIT, and Indian Queens. Now we can add Suspects to the list and a debut EP which just sizzled on the senses.

Southend-on-Sea hailing, the duo has certainly earned keen praise and support from their singles to date but now together with a fourth imagination gripping song will surely make a greater impression and impact as part of the Recovery EP. Their fervent roar is punk bred but with a garage rock inspired ferocity and grunge nurtured scuzz which simply adds to one hungry lure. Equally there is inherent catchiness to its feral rock ‘n’ roll, a mix which hints at bands such as The Sea and In The Whale but springs its own attention grabbing flaming holler.

Recorded with producer Thomas Mitchener (Frank Carter & The Rattlesnakes, Gallows, The Futureheads, Asylums), Recovery opens up with its title track. Swiftly an instinct luring melody teases from the guitar of Thomas Prescott, its elegant yet slightly raw coaxing proving irresistible as too its creator’s potent vocals which are soon in league with its temptation. It is a relatively calm but emotively alive beginning hinting of an underlying volatility that soon explodes in a tempestuous stroll driven by the bold and magnetic rhythms of James May. In full rampancy, the track is dirty yet radiant, corrosive but rousing, familiarities aligning to uniqueness as it sets inescapable persuasion on ears.

The thrilling start to the release is richly backed by next up Anaphylactic Shock, a swift and rapacious slice of sonic incitement offering one minute fourteen seconds of the most rabid and virulent punk rock likely to be heard this year. Enslavement was swift, a hunger for more just as rapid and quickly fed by Innocence. With a more controlled but no less wild gait, the track stalks ears with its senses scything beats and scuzz bearing grooves. Prescott’s vocals are just as intense and voracious let alone adventurous amongst them with Hammond toned keys adding to the song’s broad yet acute character. As the tracks around it, the song crackled on the senses and lingered in the imagination, pleasure fired up with every twist and turn.

Armageddon And Me completes the quartet of tracks, and immediately owns its moment of domination. Carnal riffs and swiping rhythms are instantly unleashed, Green Day shaded contagion just as eager as the sludge/grunge natured tonic which fired up song and spirit alike. It provides a seriously rousing and thrilling end to an EP just as tenacious and dynamic in its every breath.

In its relatively short life Cool Thing Records has already been the gateway to some rather special adventures and encounters, the Recovery EP just continues that riveting trend.

The Recovery EP is released May 31st via Cool Thing Records.

https://www.facebook.com/suspectsuk/   https://twitter.com/_wearesuspects

https://coolthingrecords.bandcamp.com

Pete RingMaster 29/05/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Duckeye – PUCE

Three years after uncaging their most roguish, fiendishly dishonourable album yet, and their most irresistible in Songs From The Gunt, Australian reprobates I Am Duckeye have just unleashed an equally diabolical successor in Puce. Looking back across their previous three albums, EPs and singles, it is no secret that the band’s unpredictable fusion of punk, virulent metal, voracious rock, and unapologetically questionable humour has grown thicker and heavier in enterprise and weight. Now though the Melbourne outfit has dived headlong into the charnel house of noise and sludge flooded animosity whilst still embracing that initial breeding of sound and emerged with one challenging, raveningly feral, and compelling beast of a release.

Whether to mark this twist of direction in sound, though it is still very recognisable I Am Duckeye, the band has slimmed the band name down to simply Duckeye though they still use their full name everywhere else it seems. Being lazy we will use the shortened version as on Puce, a release also seeing another reduction, in the bands line-up. Duckeye has slimmed to the irrepressible trio of vocalist/guitarist Sam Haycroft, bassist Jules Medor, and drummer/producer Sean Bailey, a threesome unplugging the floodgates of sonic voracity whilst humour wise too, they have bred a fresh trespass. Certainly Puce does not hold back with a tongue hungrily pushing the cheek but it aligns to a deliberately caustic and social scowl on the world and people fuelling the chaos today; maybe some will say it is mischief which has grown up a tad but yes it still brings a ready childish grin to the face with regularity.

It is probably fair to say that Puce does not have songs which virally leapt from the speakers into our particular devilment as many of the band’s previous infestations yet all make for a fiercely memorable moment and all have attributes which just got under the skin and into our lustful appetites. Across the album riffs mercilessly trespass, grooves wickedly entangle, and hooks ensnare with nefarious ease and throughout the band’s punk metal instincts erupted to inflame ours.

Puce first erupts with Docks, Haycroft’s lone guitar casting steely strokes at ears with his just as untamed tones quickly stepping forward to its side. Then as swiftly the track stretches its muscles and strides forth, rhythms almost gleefully and definitely venomously dancing on the senses that grooves keenly infest. As suggested earlier, the contagious sound is as individual Duckeye as fans would hope but it is a new monster with no qualms about parading seductive enterprise within its voracious incitement.

In contrast to the excited gait of its predecessor, the following Stab Flats crawls over the listener; doom and gloom soaking its prowl as noise and sludge coated aspects collect in its magnetic bowels. Eventually it escapes its chains to angrily cavort through ears, with it a new wave of ravenous flavours and styles carnivorously clawing at the listener. Reverting back to its predacious drag of its irresistible Birthday Party hued sonic body it makes way for the equally examining exploits of Headlights, the senses caught on its sonic glare whilst the body is bouncing to its barbarous manipulation. Again at times there is an echo of eighties post punk to its corrosive toxicity but once more it just spices up that Duckeye uniqueness channelling through song to the pleasure it sparked.

It is often enjoyment loaded with punishment as witnessed in Dead End, the track just short of two and a half minutes of bestial incitement churning up the senses and every esurient lust you have inside through punk and dense extreme metal fired savagery. Addiction to it was inevitable with our appetites here, the song bordering cannibalistic as it devours its own virulence with just as captivating barbarity.

The lengthy trespass of the following Tree Puncher is more familiar Duckeye, initially luring attention with their established creative mischief but it too its soon flexing its grievous dexterity, the song a kind of bridge between Puce and the band’s last outstanding full-length. By its departure though, the track is all predator and simply corroding the senses, indeed disintegrating them with sonic scorching though they are soon brought back to life by the animated dissonance of Defeated. It is a song with post metal winds which absorbed if not aroused initially but then it goes and throws wicked grooved interruptions of lusty ire to raise the temptation and pleasure by multiple degrees

Both Sense and Finger deviously got under the skin, the first with its delicious initial gothic Bauhaus-esque hues and more so with its metal forged punk ‘n’ roll carousing and the second through its classic metal wired, stoner sludge stroll; again virulence flowing through netting of infectious veins.

The final pair of tracks on the album proves themselves just as unscrupulously tempting; Dead Eyes with its cold stare and predacious prowl masterfully wily and persuasive, villainous rock ‘n’ roll at its notorious best, while Blue Hand leaps on another wealth of fresh flavours to ignite its enterprise woven web.

Together they provide a richly gripping conclusion to an album which assaults and invigorates second by second, thrilling with every passing trespass. Puce only gets better and more addictive by the listen too so maybe this is the moment the world catches a dose of the I Am Duckeye virus; it would be a better place for doing so.

Puce is available now @ https://iamduckeye.bandcamp.com/album/puce

https://iamduckeye.com/home   https://www.facebook.com/iamduckeyeofficial/   https://twitter.com/home

 Pete RingMaster 09/05/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Warish – Self Titled EP

Like a crawling yet animated pestilence, comes a sound and aural ruin which infests the senses like a carnivorous scourge; a sonic trespass which within the debut release from US outfit Warish rises up as one highly fascinating and seriously enticing affair.

Formed by guitarist/vocalist Riley Hawk and drummer Bruce McDonnell, the 2018 emerging SoCal based band has seen a bit of a buzz brewing around it and it is easy to hear why across the five tracks making up the first Warish EP. It is a ravenously malignant and carnally caliginous invasion as visceral as it is fearsomely compelling; a raw gripping trespass bred from a fusion of raw horror punk, sludge infested grunge and feral noise punk.

The EP took a mere breath to assault and stir ears and appetite through opener Bones, its initial riff struck bait the first thick lure in a voracious tide of punk ‘n’ roll. The effect tampered vocals only add to the already persuasive hell spawned temptation immersing track and listener, the threat and nag of rhythms escalating the insurgent swing and sonic infestation of the song’s slavery. Akin to a feral mix of The Scaners and The Hangmen in league with The Horrors and Misfits both in their formative years, the track effortlessly enslaved as too its successor which rises up from the sonic bridge between the two.

Riding in on a manipulative tide of rhythms, Voices quickly took control with its untamed groove and concussive attack easily sparking another round of lust with its inhuman exploits before Fight brings its own magnetic personality to proceedings. There is a mutual bedevilment and nightmare to the first pair of tracks even in their individuality but their successor reveals a whole fresh aspect to the Warish sound and adventure with melodic and psych rock imagination. It still has the punk and metal nurtured hues but entangled in a broader flavouring of styles and twisted enterprise.

The final pair of Human Being and Shivers similarly adds their own particular differences; the first seemingly fed on the riffs of Black Sabbath and the second seeded in old school punk subsequently soaked in the hellacious corrosiveness of stoner rock, heavy metal, and surf punk. Neither quite exploited the passions as the first trio of tracks but both easily escalated the lure and enjoyment of the debut Warish EP; and joined all in inspiring a hunger for plenty more from the rather exciting, potential strapped band.

The Warish EP is out now on 7” vinyl and download through RidingEasy; available @ https://www.ridingeasyrecs.com/product/warish-7/ and https://warish.bandcamp.com/releases

 

https://www.facebook.com/Warishband/

Pete RingMaster 12/02/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Blacktones – The Day We Shut Down The Sun

If a band name was ever perfect for the music it represents, The Blacktones is at the head of the field. The Italian outfit create a fusion of alternative/melodic metal and sludge thick stoner rock awash with the heaviest darkest shadows and emotions. It is invasive yet inescapably infectious as it snarls and ruggedly seduces in equal measure and especially magnetic within the band’s latest album, The Day We Shut Down The Sun.

Though in some ways feeling like a concept album, the band says The Day We Shut Down The Sun is “not a true concept, but every song represents a step by step journey to the losing of all the qualities of a human being. Following the tarots (starting with the pope, the fifth card) we represent the losing of faith, wisdom, genius, knowledge and finally, trough the Mage, we become the Fool, embracing the primordial chaos.” It is an alluring feel across the release bound in a thick collusion of hungry riffs, muscular rhythms, and melodic and vocal dexterity. Not always boldly unique, it is perpetually a proposition with individual character and enterprise which grabbed keen attention.

The band itself hails from Cagliari, formed in 2011 as an instrumental encounter by guitarist Sergio Boi and bassist Gianni Farci. Subsequently the line-up and creative intent evolved with the addition of drummer Maurizio Mura and vocalist Simone Utzeri, debut EP Distorted Reality arriving in 2012 before Aaron Tolu replaced Utzeri as frontman two years later. Their well-received self-titled debut album with guitarist Paolo Mulas bringing the band to a quintet drew potent interest with its release, as now its successor, via Sliptrick Records in 2015.It sowed the seeds for the richer and more rounded proposition of The Day We Shut Down The Sun and its more individual escapades.

Throughout the album, there are experimental darkly atmospheric intros, each counting down to the end of existence; the first in V – The Pope drawing ears and imagination into the waiting jaws of The Upside Down. Immediately a tide of sonic and vocal ferocity launches at ears, an instincts sparking groove infesting body and appetite within as rhythms pounce. Tolu’s vocals are just as rousing as the sounds around him, riffs adding a swing to their rapacity to match the tenacious endeavour of the increasingly contagious groove. Adventure and unpredictability blossoms as the song continues, bold sound and voice shaping one striking incendiary slab of metal.

The following Ghosts unveils a less imposing introduction but just as compelling with its suggestive intrigue and musical temptation. Down like grooves spread their lures from within the growing incitement, more aggressive traits emerging in all aspects but equally a tantalising melodic suggestiveness in guitar and harmonics which lures the imagination deeper into the ever present shadows.

The album’s title track makes an equally ear grabbing entrance, a predacious one as it prowls the senses with doom loaded rhythms amidst a slow tenebrific groove. Deep in its clutches you feel the lack of light, its thick weave a suffocating enveloping of the senses yet everything about it is contagious starting with Tolu’s ever enticing vocals. There is something certainly familiar about the excellent track yet plenty more fresh aspects in its trespass to demand praise carrying attention before Not The End backs its power up with its own pleasure brewing tempest. With a tinge of One Minutes Silence to it at times, the song twists and turns with an irritability in tone and sound as much a threat as it is a tempestuous seduction with stoner bred grooves and carnivorous basslines entwining for an even bigger lure.

Alone Together crawls over the senses, lumbering grooves and primal riffs enticing before dissipating for the melodic heart of the track to coax even closer attention. When they return with even greater weight and intensity as well as imagination, a lustful appetite was reeled in and only increased by the expressive and inventive journey taken while I.D.I.O.T.S. creates a web of stoner veins around metal antipathy to keep enjoyment just as intensive. Infectious and corrosive, the track is a great blend resembling Corrosion of Conformity meets Clutch and another highlight of the increasingly enjoyable album.

The Day We Shut Down The Sun is brought to a just as potent and mercurial conclusion by Nowhere Man and Broken Dove, the first a scorched and searing proposition as virulent in its calm predacious stroll as in its senses broiling blaze with its successor a more restrained but no less volatile collusion of sonic and emotional dissonance aligned to its own sonic furies. Both songs leave ears and pleasure entangled in their creative roars and each reinforces greater keenness in The Blacktones growth.

With a final pair of cards leaving the listener lost in the void, The Day We Shut Down The Sun is a release which should be checked out. It certainly grabbed attention first time around but really blossomed as an experience and pleasure thereon in.

The Day We Shut Down The Sun is available now through Sliptrick Records and @ https://theblacktonesband.bandcamp.com/album/the-day-we-shut-down-the-sun

https://www.facebook.com/TheBlacktonesBand   https://www.twitter.com/BlacktonesBand   https://www.instagram.com/theblacktonesband/

Pete RingMaster 14/03/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Lark – Self Titled

Their sound is described as progressive sludge/stoner metal but as the debut EP from Lark reveals, it is a broadly flavoured proposition truthfully rather hard to totally pin down. The creation of the Mizzi brothers, it is maybe no surprise that it is a multi-layered and styled proposition; Raph the former guitarist and lead singer of Sail In Between and former bassist of Angher Incorporated bringing a passion for and experience of hardcore and progressive metal while Zach, ex-drummer of Bright Curse, has nurtured his craft within stoner, psyche and hard rock adventures. They have melded their talents, experiences, and tastes for a brand new exploration, one which has ears and imagination pretty much enthralled from the first to last moments of their first offering.

Though immersed in music for numerous years, surprisingly the uniting of their enterprise and invention only came earlier this year, from which the EP emerged with the help of Robin Mariat of Grey Matter Studio France, Chris Painter of Red Roof Sounds, Marco of Marc&Cheese, and Jake Read of Living Room Studios, all London based studios. Said to be inspired by the likes of Mastodon, Opeth, Gojira, Black Peaks, and Russian Circles, many essences easy to surmise, the EP immediately has attention held with opener Hailstorm. Instantly an inviting wall of sound presses on ears, its potent lure the spring board for a charge of hungry riffs and spicy grooves ridden by equally enticing vocals. Both men holler and croon with melodic dexterity, guitars weaving a matching web of suggestion and enterprise as rhythms rumble. A fusion of post and progressive metal with grooved and melodic imagination, the song continues to evolve and tempt; that varied sound fuelling its increasingly compelling character and imagination.

It is an impressive start quickly backed by the tantalising endeavours of Red Eye. Though its air is warm and melodic prowess magnetic there is a dystopian tone to its breath shaped by the raw throated vocals and dark hearted grooves. It is a compelling blend which, as simply the gait of the song has the body bouncing, has ears and thoughts hooked. Raw but beauty laded, the track swiftly and increasingly gets under the skin, its strength in its instrumental prowess but potently backed by vocal suggestion and intensity.

The beginning of next up Heavy defies its title, its gentle melodic caress aural poetry but soon departing for the portentous tower of atmosphere and thickly toned sound which looms around vocal trespass. Sludgy bordering on the pestilential, the track is a blackened suffocation veined by melodic wires which shimmer with temptation. Though not quite finding the heights of the first pair, the song is raw captivation keeping expectations guessing and attention keen before Too Far Gone shares its post rock beauty and tempestuous emotions. Once more a host of metal bred shades and heavy rock essences collude in a kaleidoscopic tapestry, and again the imagination and appetite can only keenly sink into its creative landscape.

Decay brings things to a close, the track a vexed and portentous proposal crafted with melodic dexterity and emotional turmoil as dark storms simmer and erupt. Maybe the EP is at its most striking across its first few tracks but it never is less than riveting and ends on an engrossing high with the potential of greater endeavours as ripe as the pleasure found in its varied enticing and imposing soundscape.  It is a release which demands attention for a band you can only think is setting out on one striking adventure for them and us.

The Lark EP is out now as a name your price download @ https://larkbandofficial.bandcamp.com/album/lark

https://www.facebook.com/LarkBandOfficial/    https://www.instagram.com/lark_band/

Pete RingMaster 08/11/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Morass of Molasses – These Paths We Tread

The first album from UK trio Morass of Molasses has definitely been one encounter we have here been keenly anticipating, almost from the day the band first stepped forward with a couple of senses infesting, psyche twisting tracks. Their fusion of doom, sludge, and stoner bred textures served in a swamp of aural filth just fed all the instincts and continued to through their debut EP a few months after. Now we have These Paths We Tread to devour, an album which we will admit had us a touch unsure initially.

Instantly enjoyable, These Paths We Tread still had thoughts crowding to contemplate its new proposal of sound. Morass Of Molasses has lured their music from the filth infested depths of the swamp into a cleaner yet still aurally clinging landscape. That is not to say that it does not still come with a healthy coating of scuzz and doom lined dirt but it is a lumbering trespass of sound which is almost more celebratory than predatory. Quite simply their sound has matured, grown up even, and hindsight through listening back at certainly that last EP, So Flows Our Fate, shows it was an evolution on the cards even back then. To be honest we miss the filth but it has not stopped These Paths We Tread through time and listens blossoming into one seriously striking encounter loaded with the potential of even greater adventures ahead with the threesome of vocalist/baritone guitarist Bones ‘The Beard’ Huse, lead guitarist Phil ‘The Mountain’ Williams, and drummer Chris ‘The Beast’ West.

These Paths We Tread gets off to a mighty start with My Leviathan, its gentle caresses of melody and atmospheric waves a deceptive coaxing into the waiting jaws of colossal riffs and flirtatiously tangy grooves. Settling into a predacious crawl entwining raw causticity with salacious seduction, the song roams ears and imagination like a primal siren. Bones’ raw throaty roars share pure toxicity at times, his hostile tones matched by the punchy rhythms of West but tempered by his own calmer vocal tempting and the sonic web cast by Williams. Continually twisting through an array of perpetual incitement on ears and appetite, the track is glorious, its emerging funkiness icing on the feral cake.

Recent times has seen MOM tear into stages alongside the likes of Orange Goblin, Ohhms, Vodun, Elephant Tree, Desert Storm, Space Witch, Sea Bastard, Gurt, and Limb among many others, and there are essences of a few of these within second track So They Walk. Its grooves seep Orange Goblin/Kyuss like taunting whilst its irritable side has a Sleep like causticity, all merged into a distinct MOM recipe and a track like its predecessor which hits the spot with relish.

Continuing themes of “mythic sin and ancient archetypes”, album and next up Serpentine lyrically and musically bind the listener in evocative textures. The third track winds around ears with a dexterity and sonic adeptness emulating its title, grooves almost slithering across the imagination as rhythms bite. Bones’ warm if emotionally deceitful vocals contrast the underlying volatility of the track superbly, also erupting at times to spark a sonic wave fuelling greater weight and intensity throughout. It is a bewitching affair, not as instantly gripping as the first pair of songs but blossoming with every listen into an instinctive temptation before the brief incantation of The Ritual lures and the haunting presence of Centralia descends. A weave of stoner bred enterprise lined with provocative shadows and ghostly whispers as infectious rhythms drive a rolling canter, the second of the two is a well of suggestion coloured by the skilful adventure of Williams on guitar strings.

Next up Maenads is a psychosis of drama and sound, simultaneously enthralling and threatening with seduction and primal toning. It is fair to say, as the album, the track grows and infests deeper into the psyche with every taking of its inflamed intoxication; its melodic anaesthetic fascinating and feral instincts tantalising before things end with Wrath Of Aphrodite, a song which maybe did not quite spark the passions as richly as its companions yet has body and appetite for more bouncing to its groove woven, heavily boned rock ‘n’ roll.

Certainly for fans of the band, These Paths We Tread  will maybe need time to grow and develop on ears and thoughts though newcomers will find Morass of Molasses a quick persuasion we are sure. Yes we still miss the filth but the album blossoms into something thickly compelling and increasingly pleasurable; how stupid of us to doubt with those first thoughts.

These Paths We Tread is out now through HeviSike Records in various formats @ https://morassofmolasses.bandcamp.com and http://www.hevisike.com/product/morass-of-molasseslp

https://www.facebook.com/MorassOfMolasses

Pete RingMaster 24/05/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright