Dark Stares – The Lightning Echo

Darkly haunting and persistently mesmeric, The Lightning Echo is the new album from UK rockers Dark Stares. The successor to their acclaimed debut, Darker Days Are Here to Stay, the new release provides twelve tracks which lure the listener and imagination into the realm between warm and portentous dreams; each a siren of intimation and reflection which enjoyably proved rather hard to escape.

St Albans hailing, Dark Stares has been a persistent captivation from their early tracks and EPs such as Octopon and Soul Contract through to that creatively potent first full-length of last year. Looking back to Darker Days Are Here to Stay, there is no doubt that The Lightning Echo is the natural progression to its predecessor but equally it has evolved its own fascination and unique character of sound; a nagging seduction which wraps the senses like a crepuscular animal.

The album immediately strides through ears with You Know Me, the track’s high kneed beats stamping authority on attention as the fuzz bred grooves of Harry Collins wind around them and the equally magnetic tones of vocalist Miles Kristian Howell. From the single song alone it is easy to hear why Queens Of The Stone Age is often used as a comparison though there is no escaping the singular identity of the Dark Stares sound either.

The highly rousing start is prolonged by the similarly anthemic Dance, a tenacious command on the body bound in the dark climes of surf/desert rock. Again the imposing yet contagious lure of Brett Harland Howell’s bass and Taylor Howell’s spirited beats manipulate song and listener, the Middle Eastern lures cast by Collin’s guitar quite irresistible in one of the album’s major peaks.

Next up Spell You’ve Cast is a similarly beguiling temptress if a slightly sinistrous one, its body a writhing tease of grooves and enticing vocals across almost predatory rhythms while the following Crusader brings a dustier desert rock landscaped croon with volatility in its rich fertile earth. Each made for a riveting proposition if the first with fiercer temptation as too Mr Midnight with its rapacious crawl and tantalising menace. As those around it, the magnificent encounter spins a web of flavour and suggestion sparking imagination and appetite for its tenebrific charm and bait.

There is something of a Doors meets Muse shimmer to The Shadows and Faceless Man, the first with its mercurial climate and compelling sonic grumble breeding sheer dark captivation and through the second wrapping an emotive melodic shroud around ears before breaking out into its pensive musing. Sandwiched between them is Today, a song edging more firmly to the sixties psychedelia of Morison and co. and though it does not quite match up to those alongside one that only grips attention and enjoyment.

After them, In My Pocket initially shimmers before catching flame, repeating its persuasive melodic cycle with greater intensity as Zedi Forder-esque hues bring earnest breath to the increasingly compelling encounter while in turn intrigue soaked and with disquieting glamour Misty Lanes makes its potent play for best track honours.

The album concludes with the radiantly rapacious saunter of Dead and Gone and lastly the hearty rock ‘n’ roll of Rebel Angel. Both tracks hit the spot with the first another simply adding to the numerous reasons as to why The Lightning Echo should not be ignored.

Easily The Lightning Echo is the finest moment with Dark Stares to date, one which for us only gets more thrilling and addictive by the listen.

The Lightning Echo is out across most stores May 31st.

https://www.darkstares.com/   https://www.facebook.com/DarkStares/   https://twitter.com/dark_stares

Pete RingMaster 30/05/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

K-Man & The 45s – Self Titled

Pic DannyDonnovan @bucketlistmr

This month sees the new romping stomping album from Canadian outfit K-Man & The 45s uncaged, a release which had the body bouncing and spirit roaring like a teenage boy after his first sexual adventure. The band creates a contagious proposition from a fusion of ska and rockabilly spiced classic rock ‘n’ roll with plenty more involved, a recipe providing their finest feast of sound yet within their self-titled full-length.

Hailing from Montreal, K-Man & The 45s has been a constant and acclaimed presence on the Canadian music scene; their records luring keen praise and support and live presence just as rich plaudits and a matching reputation. The band has shared stages with the likes of The Slackers, Big D and The Kids Table, The Satellites, The Original Wailers , The Planet Smashers, The Brains and so many more as well as graced and ignite a host of festivals across their homeland over the years. It is easy to suggest that their new album is their greatest moment yet and even easier to eagerly push it towards the attention of ska, punk and rock ‘n’ roll fans alike with the band embracing the inspirations of bands such as The Specials, The Beat, The Ramones, and The Cramps among their influences though it is fair to say K-Man and co have successfully nurtured their own individual character of sound as in thick evidence across the new record now getting its deserved push via Stomp Records.

Opener They Gotta Know had us hooked with its first breath, a classic rock ‘n roll guitar lure entangling ears and appetite before the song leaps into its punk rock swing. The jangle of Kman’s guitar flirts as the beats of Brian Smith arouse against the melodic dance of an organ; a potent enticement only enhanced by the dancing flames of Josh Michaud’s trombone and the trumpet of Seb Fournier. Bouncing along to the track’s body and stroll is inevitable, we can testify to that, as the song gets the album off to a rousing start.

The following Poppy’s Back In Town is just as manipulative, its rowdier rock colluding with the animated canter of keys and guitar with, as in its predecessor and every song, Kman’s vocal mischief leading the fun. Lively melodies and lustful hooks line its boisterous stroll before I Don’t Mind wheels in with an instantly appealing breeze easily reminding of The Beat. The band soon adds its own distinct colour to the song, adding a vocal backing in which participation is simply unavoidable. Smith’s clipping beats just get under the skin too, the brass n turn into the passions as the track lustily manipulates body and spirit.

Rudy Don’t Smoke equally had the body dangling from its virulent strands of sound and enterprise; its ska and punk collusion a devilish puppeteer with a glint in the eye of its imagination before Piece Of The Action bursts in with drama and intrigue which would not be out of place in the theme to a sixties TV spy/private detective show. With a Department S-esque hue to its theatre, the song is more than a match for the lofty heights of its predecessors as too the cosmic adventure of Space Thriller. Bringing the atmospheric prowess of The Specials into a surf rock spiced ska saunter the track has the same level of drama and intimation as the last song, its story a sultry seduction of lust and danger descriptively shaped by brass led enterprise.

Through the punk ‘n’ roll/ska bred stomp of Road Rage Randy and the fifties rock ‘n’ roll seeded ska spin of This Moment, pleasure only escalates with the album, each adding a new shade of sound and mischief to its party before a great cover of The Kingpins’ Party in Ja joins the fun. Giving its reggae nurtured catchiness a Ruts like dub makeover the track pulsates on the senses as again the body is lost to an instinctive bounce.

Next up is Johnny Thumbs a track which maybe did not inflame the passions as others around it but still made for the most enjoyable playmate before the outstanding Far Away Eyes Come Home simply became a love affair with ears. From its revolving hooks and melodic enticement to vocal and rhythmic invitation, the song devoured inhibitions.

The album finishes with another gem in What’s Inside A Girl, a glorious garage punk and rockabilly spun tease with a healthy psychobilly and surf rock glaze led by yet another delicious bassline among so many across the album from Frankie amidst the perpetual rhythmic incitement of Smith. The song epitomises the craft, sound, and contagious exploits of K-Man & The 45s perfectly whilst at the same time sealing its best track moment though that is debated with each and every listen.

K-Man & The 45s is a band which deserves the biggest attention within the ska, punk, and simply great rock ‘n’ roll world; all the reasons are in their new album so no hanging around go have fun.

Recently the sad news that drummer Brian Smith has terminal pancreatic cancer was announced and a Go Fund Me page set up to support him and his family. To help out this great musician and friend to so many go to https://gofundme.com/support-brian-our-brother

The K-Man & The 45s album is out digitally and on vinyl now @ https://k-manthe45s.bandcamp.com/album/k-man-the-45s

 https://www.facebook.com/kman45/   https://twitter.com/kmanandthe45s

Pete RingMaster 14/08/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

King Salami and the Cumberland 3 – Goin’ Back To Wurstville

If there is one band in this fast paced world which gives the body an even more intensive and thorough workout it is undoubtedly King Salami and the Cumberland 3. This is a band where an Automated External Defibrillator should always be on hand at every show they play, waiting and ready to revive the inevitable wasted bodies.  Now that need has been transferred to the band’s records. When playing all three of the band’s albums back to back, apart from a danger to health, it is a hard choice to say which is best, all in their openly individual ways an equal treat, but without doubt Goin’ Back To Wurstville is the most demanding and exciting for heart and limbs yet.

The new album from the Sultan of Sausage and his fellow creative rascals is a blur of incitement, a cavalcade of irresistible temptation for feet and hips. Each of its thirteen songs teases and infests the psyche, sharing groove woven rhythm & blues punk ‘n’ roll to lose all shades of sanity to. As ever, it is a busy time for the quartet; gigs coming up at a rate of knots across the globe before and even more so after their highlight performance on the BBC show The UK’s Best Part-Time Band last year. With the outfit in the middle of a UK tour right now and featuring in Roger Corman’s movie, Death Race 2050, you can be sure that Goin’ Back To Wurstville is only going to accelerate the demand on the boys and their riotous sound.

Featuring Spencer Evoy from fellow body contorters MFC Chicken and his salacious sax, Goin’ Back To Wurstville quickly gets down to business with Pineapple Mama, the song feeding off the album’s lively Intro with an initial bass groan and flames of fiery sax, they leading to an insistent romp of riffs and rhythms led by King Salami’s inevitable energy and vocal revelry. It is party time, the song swinging from the rafters with body enslaving grooves dangling their insatiable bait to further ensnare ears and limbs. Soul, r&b, rock ‘n’ roll and more excitable flavours all get involved in the multi-flavoured proposal, King Salami and co straight away feeding greedy hopes with a fresh new adventure.

The pugilistic rascality of Nosebleed Boogie is next, guitars and sax colluding in a devilish enticement of melodic theatre as King Salami uses Ali like vocal footwork to evade the rhythmic punches, his magnetic prowess like a blend of Bo Diddley and Little Walter before offering even feistier fun in the boisterous romp of Busy Body. An infection of spicy grooves and virulent riffs, the song ensures the listener is on the end of major manipulation echoing its title before the glorious adventure of King Ghidorah rises up from its oriental bed with sixties cinematic adventure fuelling its melodies and rhythms. With King Salami a dramatic narrator, T. Bone Sanchez’s grooves are a three headed tempting of flirtatious hookery, melodic seduction, and tenacious persuasion, theatre skirted by the addictive rhythmic rumble of bassist Kamikaze UT Vincent and drummer Eric Baconstrip.

There is no escaping the frisky intent of the following King Size Love, its rockabilly nurtured stroll manhandled by addiction shaping rhythms and coloured with more of the salacious enterprise which continually and artfully springs from the guitar of Sanchez across the album. Feet and hips are swiftly lost to the song’s shuffle, lungs already gasping for breath by this point within Goin’ Back To Wurstville but managing to find plenty more air for the blues strung jungle of She Was A Mau Mau and after that, the garage punk lined surf rock lit antics of No Stoppin’. The first of the two is a sweltering near on muggy affair for the heart whilst its successor is a blaze of instrumental rock ‘n’ roll which has the body at its most frenetically subservient in the hands of the album.

The treats just keep coming too; Tiger In My Tank keeps the listener moving like a puppet on tricky strings of rhythmic pestering and melodic misbehaviour, all urged on by the saucy blasts of sax and King Salami’s inexhaustible energy and spirited character.

Stutterin’ Sue leaps around with garage rock rapacity and raw captivation next while Camel Hop after that sees roving basslines and agitated beats stir up another voracious contagion of sound and spirit rousing enterprise, sultry Arabian scented  grooves winding around ears and appetite as rock ‘n’ roll rumbles in the belly of song and listener. Both tracks are an epidemic of temptation, unrelenting creative persistence more than matched by the Johnny Kidd and The Pirates hued Shiver which follows.

Concluded by the double diablerie of firstly the album’s dirt encrusted rock ‘n’ roll road trip going under its title track moniker and lastly the carnival of Latin summer fun that is Caramba!, the sensational Goin’ Back To Wurstville is bliss for ears and soul. With each of the King Salami and the Cumberland 3 releases we seem to offer nothing but lustful praise so with their third full-length we were determined to find something which might be suggested the band could improve upon. Quite simply we failed, though you know the band will still find something fresh and bolder next time and with regards to best album question, listening it as these fingers tap, yep Goin’ Back To Wurstville wins the debate.

Goin’ Back To Wurstville is out now on Dirty Waters Records @ http://www.dirtywaterrecords.co.uk/shop/#!/King-Salami-and-the-Cumberland-Three/c/2793708/offset=9&sort=normal

https://www.facebook.com/KingSalamiandtheCumberland3/

Pete RingMaster 22/03/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Oh! Gunquit – Eat Yuppies and Dance

IMG_9819

Time to meet your new favourite band and album, and the beginning of frequent visits to hospital A&E because of the twisted rhythmic effect on the body and the deranged dance-floor tempting offered. The culprits are UK provocateurs Oh! Gunquit and debut album Eat Yuppies and Dance. With more agitated rhythms than found in a Cardiothoracic unit entangled in a web of virulent contagion built on salacious grooves and naughtily flirtatious temptation, the band’s sound is pure irrepressible addiction. Hints of their devilish practices have been unveiled for quite a while by singles, videos, and an acclaimed live presence, but with Eat Yuppies and Dance, the London based quintet has just infected the world with their finest moment yet.

With a sound presumably self-tagged as rumble-bop trash freak-a-billy, and you have to say it fits perfectly, Oh! Gunquit has its seeds in a meeting between neighbours Tina Swasey and Simon Wild at a North London vinyl-only sweaty cellar club DJ night. Apparently from an energetic pogo competition the pair decided to form a band based on their mutual love of wild garage punk, exotica, raw rhythm ’n’ blues, and surf-trash. This was 2011 and since then the band they subsequently formed has become an eagerly devoured proposition across shows and festivals which have seen them playing with the likes of Black Lips producer King Khan with his Shrines, Fat White Family, Public Service Broadcasting, Andrew Weatherall, and Keb Darge amongst many. One gig even saw Adam Ant make a “crazed” impromptu stage invasion whilst radio has been just as hungry for their songs. This has all been backed by a pair of limited edition and self-released seven inch vinyl singles and tantalising videos to match. Now with Dirty Water Records, the band has uncaged their greatest bait of sound and devilment yet to seduce and enslave towns, nations, and the world.

Front Cover 2 flat (1)     With a line-up completed by Kieran, VV, and Alex, Oh! Gunquit equip Eat Yuppies and Dance with a torrential revelry which can fall into anything from psyche rock and pop to garage and punk rock, and on again to rockabilly and surf rock and that is still only part of the full musical stomp which starts with opener Sinkhole. The resonating slightly tinny beats which accost and incite ears from the first breath of the song are the sign of things to come, their anthemic lure having one single aim with their actions, to ignite body and emotions. Vocals jump in swiftly with the same impact before the song slips into a sultry groove woven caress of surf temptation over a vivacious garage rock canvas. The voice of Denver bred Tina brings an enticing tang to the exploit as does the acidic kiss of guitar enterprise which flames across the encounter, everything combining for a potent and lively start to the album.

It is an opening quickly over shadowed by the brilliant Head Bites Tail, an exhausting tapestry of dark pop and fiery rock ‘n’ roll best described as The B-52s meets The Cramps whilst being filtered through the warped funk voracity of Rip Rig & Panic. Brass seduces with unbridled toxicity across the song whilst rhythmically it is as busy and inescapable as the first seconds after doors open on a Black Friday high street sale. The vocals are equally as volatile and excitable in quite simply one quite exhilarating proposition.

Sixties beat lined and blues hued Caves strolls in next, its suggestive swagger as tempting as anything cast by your favourite temptress. Once more there is a great tinge of B-52s to the exceptional enslavement but to that there are additional essences of garage punk bands like The Orson Family, the bluesy seducing of a My Baby, and the garage pop escapade of The 5.6.7.8’s in the mix. The song is pure aural sex but as becomes a habit with Eat Yuppies and Dance as soon as you think the band has hit a pinnacle they come up with an even more deviously addicted treat, in this case Bad, Bad, Milk. Vocally and musically insatiable, the track is sheer addiction from the first flying syllable and rhythmic swipe to its final infection loaded spark. Everything from the chin down is in rapid union with the merciless stomp, every beat, groove, and flame of brass simply Class ‘A’ addictiveness to which vocals and melodically mischievous hooks are the ringleaders.

     The fuzzy sax hazed, seventies psyche pop dance of Hope In Hell provides another new colour to the diversity of the album, before Pony Boy brings a rockabilly/fifties rock ‘n’ roll tenacity to its garage punk shuffle to ignite ears all over again. Think Imelda May meets The Horse Party and you get a whisper of its epidemic of sound and persuasion, again Eat Yuppies and Dance stretching its creative landscape.

Into The Woods visits a bluesy backwater scenery in the imagination next, rock ‘n’ roll keys a la Fats Domino, luring excitedly from within the sweltering but inviting climate of the song. A great merger of fifties and modern rock pop, the song flirts and dances with ears and emotions until making way for bubbly rock ‘n’ roll of I Need Help Now. As its predecessor, the song casts a spell on body and vocal chords whilst creating a new twist of dark pop adventure within ears and album, at times skipping along like a predatory version of The Shangri-Las in a fiery entanglement with Cradle.

All the big irresistible rhythms and anarchic incitements are out for Voodoo Meatshake, their rabid seducing matched by brass and vocals which in turn are bound by searing grooves and a suggestive stroking by keys. It is an explosion of lustful sounds and rousing energies, one of those feel good assaults on the senses which have you exhausted and bloated with pleasure. The same applies to closing song Lights Out; a rhythm ‘n’ blues romp leaping around fondling the passions like a mix of The Revillos and King Salami and the Cumberland 3. It is a glorious slice of sonic diablerie, a mouth-watering hex on feet and passions bringing the similarly sorcerous Eat Yuppies and Dance to a dramatic and thrilling end.

There is no remedy to the potency and create toxins of Oh! Gunquit’s sound, just more lust emerging with every listen of their brilliant first album.

Eat Yuppies and Dance is available now via Dirty Water Records @ http://www.dirtywaterrecords.co.uk/shop/#!/Oh-Gunquit-Eat-Yuppies-and-Dance-CD/p/47051183/category=2749844 and https://ohgunquit.bandcamp.com/album/eat-yuppies-and-dance

https://www.facebook.com/ohgunquit/

RingMaster 02/05/2015

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

Hipbone Slim vs. Sir Bald

Playing like a schizophrenic battle of the bands within the insatiable creativity of one man ably aided by his equally skilled and hungry cohorts, Hipbone Slim vs. Sir Bald is simply one thrilling treat to let loose all those inhibitions to. The album is a forty track double CD release bursting with unadulterated goodness and mastery from the King of UK rock n roll, Sir Bald Diddley. A man with more musical alter-egos than hairs on his head, Sir Bald has created some of the most essential sounds in modern rock n roll, songs which could easily have graced and driven forward the times of their influences whilst standing as fresh and vibrant leaders of today.

The album brings together a union and faceoff between the distinctly different sides to his inspirational imagination. Disc one features twenty slices of delicious treats from Hipbone Slim & the Kneetremblers, all songs never before released in a CD format. Standing eye to eye on the other disc there are a mischievous and hungry selection of tracks from Louie & the Louies, Kneejerk Reactions, and The Legs, all with that magnetic common denominator, Sir Baldy. Released through Dirty Water Records, it is a package which just ignites the passions, a release which, if the varied riches of rock n roll send your saucy bits a tingling, will have you squealing like Meg Ryan on a washing machine. The album in many ways only scratches at the surface of the creativity of the man but easily shows why his skill and diversity across surf, rock n roll, garage, blues, R&B and rockabilly is so adored and devoured without a pause for manners.

Sir Bald has been called “Britain’s string king” because of his striking guitar style which has been influenced by the likes of Bo Diddley, Link Wray, Chuck Berry, Dick Dale and more. It is a style once heard never forgotten and one which lights up any genre he chooses to thrill with. As mentioned disc one features Hipbone Slim & the Kneetremblers, a band plays with its inspirations and passions on its sleeve and openly heard within tracks which range from instantly contagious to sensationally irresistible. Alongside Sir Bald the band has the massive talents of drummer Bruce ‘Bash’ Brand (the Milkshakes and Headcoats), and bassist Gastus Receedus (Big Wigs, Arousers, Playboys) bringing great songs to an even greater life. From the opener King Tut Strut the disc is an incessant feast of pleasure, every track in their different ways turning the tap to greed full on for more of their joys. The first song saunters along with a swagger which has the passions whimpering in delight, it is a sultry tease which attacks from many angles, from the Eastern promising guitars, and seductive sax caresses to the inciteful beats and uncomplicated vocals of Sir Bald, the song just makes love to the ear.

Across the tracks there is a great expanse of flavours offered such as in the following Crawl Back To Me which moves in Gene Vincent circles, Time To Kill with its Buddy Holly mesmeric and warm whisper, and the wonderful instrumental Bury The Hatchet which harks back to the likes of The Fireballs and The Ventures. Biggest highlights come from the wonderful rockabilly romp of Ooga Booga Rock, the Johnny Cash toned High On Hog, and the sweet wickedness that is Food Man Chew, a song which has to be the new soundtrack to TV show Man V. Food as well as any night of unbridled filthy passion between consenting adults. It is hard to pick best or favourite songs though this trio are always to the fore and are equally rivalled by the brilliant I Hear An Echo with its caped crusaderesque groove and  the anthemic rampage of Set You On Fire.

The first disc alone is one you would sell your soul to the devil for but there is so much more to shoot your personal mercury beyond boiling point. The second CD begins with tracks from Louie & the Louies, songs which are born from the seeds of surf and frat rock. With bassist Matt “Sleepy Louie” Radford and drummer Brian “Ramblin’” Louie Nevill alongside Sir Bald, the trio spark the flames with the sizzling instrumental Louieville and then stoke the fires with the predatory prowling of There Ain’t No End In Sight, its breath sinister and bordering manic. The track is a classic and makes an irresistible filling between Louieville and the equally tasty instrumental Marrakech. With an atmosphere as distant and wanton as the beckoning sounds, this piece just leaves one drooling. The fiery Backfire and the Stones garage blues swagger of Birdman send the senses and passions to overload and if you are listening to the whole release in one go by this point you are looking for an oasis of respite from the sonic majesty to date, though equally not wanting it to end…

… which it does not as The Kneejerk Reactions unleash their unique brand of rock n roll, their R&B brought with feistiness as deliberate as the antagonistic driving sounds. Songs like You Don’t Know Right From Wrong and Wastin’ My Time rile up attitude and passions with the sonic scorching from the guitar of Sir Bald and the hypnotic bass of Les Lerrard, not to forget the crisp jabs of drummer Ronnie Drand. The songs arguably do not flow quite as easily through the ear as elsewhere, their passage combative and fuelled by garage rock energy, but are equal when it comes to providing full pleasure. Top honours here goes to Where’s McComb?, a track which is as excitable as a dog in a lamp post factory and just as incessant.

The final onslaught of satisfaction comes from The Legs which sees the main man alongside Spaniards Jorge Explosion and Mr Pibli from garage-punk band Doctor Explosion. The songs are a thrilling mix of beat, garage, and blues infused with plenty of sixties and modern essences. The thumping stomp of instrumental Legless sets up a treat of impossible to resist pleasure, whilst the Meteors like stroll of Gotta Eat and the raw guitar smouldering of Ain’t The End of the World fan those flames even more for unbridled joy.

Hipbone Slim vs. Sir Bald is a release which brings the inimitable imagination, skills, and sounds of Sir Baldy and just some of his work into a deserved focus. He has caused a long review for a long album but what a pleasure the bands and songs give, if you want to hear ‘real’ rock n roll in some of its guises than this album is a must.

RingMaster 02/11/2012

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Felines – Daddy Walk

Within the musical shadows of Denmark there is a gem of an all-girl garage punk band called The Felines lying in wait and with the release of their debut single Daddy Walk August 6th, ready to step out into a broader and fuller spotlight. Their four track release is a thrilling and irrepressible feast of garage rock/punk, an instinctive stomp across the senses showing where the real girl power in music is thriving.

The trio from Copenhagen of lead vocalist/bassist Asta Bjerre, guitarist/ vocalist Ditte Melgaard, and drummer/ vocalist Mei Long Bao, formed in 2010 to as their bio states, ‘cause a bit of a stir’ at the Musicology Studies department at the University of Copenhagen. Inspired by their mutual love of 60’s garage rock, 77s punk rock, surf and 80’s revival girl groups, the direction of their sound was never a debate. Creating a garage punk to trigger inner primal urges and soaked in insatiable musical wickedness their sound has seen them since uniting leave stages alongside the likes of David Peter and the Wilde Sect, Thee Gravemen, and Black Magic Six, dripping in affection.

October of last year saw the girls record the four songs which make up Daddy Walk at the Grave Cave Studio in Malmö. Using an old school 8 track tape recorder to grab the raw nostalgic sixties sound the tracks combine to make a release which plays with a vintage air and modern freshness. Released as a 7” EP via Spanish record label Hey Girl! Records and digitally through Dirty Water Records, the single is pure and simple uncluttered bliss.

The song Daddy Walk immediately engages the ear with pumping riffs and beats accompanied by sweltering harmonies and unbridled energy. Strolling with a mischievous swagger and bursts of fiery guitar play the track is a wholly infectious slice of simple and inspiring rock n roll. With an element of The 5.6.7.8’s and The Ghastly Ones about it the song leaves one grinning from ear to ear and ready to further unleash ones inner mojo.

The A side of the release is completed by instrumental The Sneak, a track with a graveyard ambience and shadowed heart. It plays like a beach party between a field of tombstones with the dark pulsating bass tones and mesmeric sinister sonic fingerings raising a sinister and invitational ambience.

The flip side consists of Boots and Black Joe, two more songs to ignite the fullest pleasure. The first erupts with rampant rhythms from towering drums and enthused riffs ready to tease and whip the senses into a frenzied state. With vanity over relationships treated to The Felines touch, all songs of the band touching everyday life and elements with a style as simple and honest as the sounds, it continues the sheer contagion for the heart brought by the release.

Final song Black Joe brings a blend of early days The Horrors and The Pleasure Seekers plus again more than a flavour of the previously mentioned Japanese band. It has a melodic kiss which sends tingle down the spine and surging electric bursts to ignite further passions. Vocally it was by this song that the similarity to Fay Fife of The Revillos dawned on the thoughts with the cheeky and fun loving side of both bands also more than evident.

Daddy Walk is a brilliant introduction to a wonderful band and with their unique take on all eras of garage rock and punk we will be hearing and seeing a lot more of The Felines, thankfully.

https://www.facebook.com/thefelines

RingMaster 29/07/2012

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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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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