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

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 Pete RingMaster 09/05/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

I Am Duckeye – Songs From The Gunt

IAD_RingMasterReview

From the moment I am Duckeye had us Punching Dicks in 2013, the Australian quartet has been a devilish itch in unseen places leading to regular treatment of their riff loaded, highly mischievous rock ‘n’ roll. Across two albums and numerous singles, the band has whipped up a storm of bruising and invigorating sounds and eager bad habits. Now though, is the realisation that it was all merely the warm up act for the main show, Songs From The Gunt. The Melbourne quartet’s new album is simply in another league to its impressive and fiercely enjoyable predecessors. It is still a great menace of sex, dirty sex, and salacious revelry, but I Am Duckeye has truly come of age with their diverse and hungry sound in what will be one of the major highlights of the year.

Making their debut in 2008, I Am Duckeye first whipped up eager attention beyond their local borders with the Punching Dicks EP five years later. Already their home city had succumbed to the “comedy punk rock” which slips from the foursome of vocalist/guitarist brothers Sam and Matt Haycroft, bassist Jules, and drummer Sean as easily as the previous night’s curry, the morning after a drunken rampage. 2013 also saw the band’s debut album, Husband unleashed to increasing acclaim and rapture, though that was eclipsed in turn by its successor Commando Too the following year. As Songs From The Gunt, each album has been a successful crowd funded venture and the bringing of heavier and more voracious intent and sound from the band, which their third album continues. This time though, it sees them dive into a thicker tapestry of styles and flavours, unlock a bolshier arsenal of riffs and rhythms, and involve ears in moments of sheer licentious brilliance.

The anthemic intensity of Sex Fight gets the party flying, the song an immediate wall of spicy grooves and rapacious riffs driven by the roar of vocals alongside senses scything rhythms. It is instant evidence of the step up in heavyweight confrontation and antagonism fuelling the band’s sound but also of the diversity. The virulent grooves tempt with a funk bred devilment whilst the twists of infectious incitement is as punk as you could wish. Additional steps into melodic caresses and atmospheric deceits just reveal the new depth of a creative imagination which you feel has always been within the band but is now being shared with bold adventurousness amidst their instincts to rock and raise a meaty grin or two.

cover_RingMasterReviewThe outstanding start is more than backed by both Hectic and Hot Nuts. The first immediately swamps ears in a noise rock spiral of nagging; vocals bronco riding the tempest before things dive into another romping punk ‘n’ roll canter. Like a mix of The Fat Dukes Of Fuck and Melvins, the track relentlessly ignites ears and appetite, raising the depth of bait again when slipping into a tar thick sludgy prowl with the ever involving lure of the Haycroft led vocals. The song is glorious, repeating its cycle to greater effect across its body before allowing its successor to parade its punk rock seed loaded wares. Keenly weaving in strains of hard rock too, the guitars relishing the chance to flirt with sonic enterprise, the bundle of sweaty energy hits the spot dead centre.

The Binternet swings in with flirtatious hips next, its surrounding sonic shimmer wearing a post punk meets psyche rock sheen around the great agitation of Sean’s percussive skills. Lyrically cutting, even though delivered with usual mischief, the song tantalises and fascinates whilst again employing a clutch of varying spices to its muscular rock ‘n’ roll; a design emulated again in the enthralling rumble of Wide On. As much garage punk as it is heavy rock, as much punk as it is alternative metal, the track canters through ears like an attitude inflamed stallion on the persistent and contagious gallops of Sean’s rhythms; they in turn aligned to the predatory and anthemic lure of Jules’ fingers.

The grungy rock ‘n’ roll of Papsmear the Clown increasingly pleases as it leads to the psychotic majesty of Ben outta Ten. Here early surf rock hooks are quickly twisted and distorted into a fiery blaze which in turn sparks a ferocious assault of heavy rock which is kind of like Mastodon meets Triggerman. Mid-way though, the song suddenly loses its already loose sanity and evaporates into a sonic dissonance lined breeze with haunting touches to confuse and thrill thoughts further. As good as it is though, the track is soon forgotten as The Quickening emerges from its distant fog. A hilarious and mesmeric embracing of the Highlander films; the track drifts through ears and into the imagination with a folkish/progressive ambience around a military toned rhythmic skeleton draped in a Celtic lacing. As grooves emerge with intoxicating spicing, the track becomes more imposing and volatile, gripping attention tighter as it unpredictably twists into a swing loaded shuffle, which in turn breaks into an insatiable punk romp and so on…

Fart of the Year break the momentary calm that lays between songs with carnivorous riffs and a general rapacity to its grouchy rock ‘n’ roll whilst Uncle Reg growls and prowls from the great grizzly lead of Jules’ bass. Sam and Matt of course only build on that bait with their own debasing string spawned enterprise, casting an unrelenting nagging of the senses and the by now seriously greedy appetite for the release. The track is another major high in the lofty heights breached by each and every song so far, a trend only continuing as Clean Snap swings and swerves with seriously spicy grooves around a crunching parade of rhythmic and riff spawned dexterity. As throughout Songs From The Gunt, for all the impressive and new invention and imagination in songs, they are all at the heart pure instincts gripping rock ‘n’ roll very few can say no to.

The rousing show tune quality of Pish Paste is surely deserving of gracing a theatre somewhere, though hard to see it being on Broadway. It easily whips up a storm in pleasure and physical involvement leaving exhaustion in its wake to meet closing track Pledgends, a full-on heavy rock thank you and a ”passing of the blame” to all those helping the album come to light.

Songs From The Gunt is simply superb; as suggested I Am Duckeye hitting a new plateau in songwriting and sound without losing the reason we all flocked to them initially; raucous fun, irrepressible mischief, and brazen naughtiness.

Songs From The Gunt is released March 4th digitally and on CD and 12” green or clear vinyl @ https://iamduckeye.bandcamp.com/album/songs-from-the-gunt

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Pete RingMaster 01/03/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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