Dick Venom & the Terrortones – SnakeOil for Snakes

Dick Venom_RingMaster Review

Eagerly awaited and as rascally salacious and creatively lecherous as hoped, SnakeOil for Snakes shows exactly why for a great many, Dick Venom & the Terrortones is THE essential British rock ‘n’ roll band. The band’s debut album is a web of flirtation and riot of rhythmic agitation bound up in vats of garage punk contagion posing as songs. It is manna for the insane and inspiration for the lascivious, but most of all, the album is punk ‘n’ roll to get a nation and continent romping.

Formed in 2010 by the inimitable Dick Venom, the Nottingham hailing band has left a fevered trail and reputation behind their live presence, an acclaim infected assault matched in plaudits by their increasingly impressive releases. Aside their own sweaty live stomps, the band has shared stages with the likes of The Meteors, The Rezillos, Bad For Lazarus, Demented Are Go, Lawnmower Deth, The Radiacs, Vince Ray & The Boneshakers, and Savage Messiah amongst a great many whilst first EP RockinRollin VampireMan set the trend for luring strong reactions and praise. Invasion Of The Spider Queen in 2013 only increased awareness and the band’s fan base, with last year’s EP The MonsterPussy Sessions nudging broader spotlights to match the band’s new step forward in sound. Yet another plateau of trash punk invention and pleasure has been breached by SnakeOil for Snakes, its crowd of dirty rock ‘n’ roll bred tracks the kind of thing addiction was invented for.

cover_RingMaster Review     With Wrex St.Clair, Dusty Vegas, and Stevie Vee alongside, Dick Venom is soon infesting ears with his distinctive and zealous tones, leaping forward from the choppy riff toothed entrance of Gun of a Tongue. The opener is soon into an eager stride, interrupting its jagged scenery with glam rock enterprise and sonic mischief. The Rezillos were mentioned earlier and there is an air of the Scottish band as the song bounds into the passions with its garage punk/rockabilly revelry.

I Can’t Find my BrainCell swiftly keeps attention and appetite engrossed and increasingly wanton for more straight after. As a thickly enticing bassline from St.Clair leads the virulence of the song, guitars spring tendrils of sonic temptation whilst beats roll along with a promiscuous tenacity. Venom as ever is a schizophrenic bundle of vocal imagination and rebelliousness, lauding over but only adding to the theatre of the track with his rousing energy, a success only repeated time and time again across SnakeOil for Snakes as shown quickly by TightPants (DoubleHeaded). Surf kissed strands of guitar spin their own irresistible weave as female vocals add a great snarl alongside Venom’s. The song despite its edge is more restrained than the previous pair of songs but just as fiercely catchy and impressive in its fifties rock hooks and tangy melodic imagination.

Three tracks in and it is fair to say that building from the potent inventive base of The MonsterPussy Sessions, the band has honed hooks to be more barbed and gripping with roars even more anthemic and rousing as ideas…well they are shaped by even greater ferocious imagination. Taken from that last EP, Dead Deadbeat Delinquent first time around was proof of a greater adventure being forged and even now, as an old well known friend, it holds the same rich enticement amongst just as devilishly imperious tracks. With bass and guitar bouncing around with slim yet inescapable addictive post/garage punk lures as the beats of Vegas rumble with the senses, the song is primal seduction; everything from toes to emotions quickly recruited and eagerly involved in its fresh psychosis of sound and maniacal enterprise.

Shimmering grooves from Vee welcome ears in next up FFFunny Kinda Luvin, the song’s winy nectar of temptation framed by more inciting rhythms and the measured vocal rowdiness of Venom. Bass and drums subsequently create a tribal enticing as sonic hues smoulder and grow into bedlamic invention around them, it all strung together by a prime hook which even in its absence within the proposal seems to weave rich magic on lustful emotions.

Dirty rock ‘n’ roll colours the walls of Last DumbDregs of Dragsvile after that, essences of The Stooges merging with something akin to The Spits feistily pleasing ears, whilst Go Fuck on the Sidewalk gets garage punk funky with its Cramps meets The Ghastly Ones tango. Both tracks thrill and lead to forceful hip swinging, especially the second of the pair before things get scuzzy with Do The Mash. Though not quite living up to its predecessors, certainly in swift convincing, the track soon boils with its fire of spicy guitar and robust rhythms courted by Venom at his most grouchy and gruff yet.

Taunting with an initial coaxing which surely is a distant relation to something the Knack might have conjured, No Good to get Up To thrills as it spills its intoxicating devilment next. Bluesy to the air, punk rock to the growl, the track prowls and stomps around with attitude and intimidation, igniting another wave of greed from the appetite along the way. It is success emulated by the gloriously lustful seduction of Planet of the HoneyFuzz. Imagine Sweet as Turbonegro and then bound in The Phenomenauts contagion and you have a hint of this unique Dick Venom & The Terrortones treat of an infestation.

   MyWay or the DryWay saunters in next, rhythmic taps a lead into a gorgeous creeping of noir woven creative theatre, whereas Crypt Tonight is a throbbing of garage rock ‘n’ roll which throughout its surf embraced rhythmic meander and melodic shimmering, is like a tongue led insatiable kiss on the senses and passions.

A final trespass of deeply biting and lingering hooks amidst compelling vocal and sonic imagination brings the album to a riveting close, Get Fucked Up Good a brilliant libidinal enticing and entrapment of ears and equally lusty reactions and a sensational end to an album exciting in all departments. Hopes were high and demanding because of The MonsterPussy Sessions, but now left looking lightweight by SnakeOil for Snakes. Dick Venom & the Terrortones are ready to be spoken in the same breath of the garage punk greats yet it is still easy to feel we have still only tapped into the first layer or two of their devious majesty.

SnakeOil for Snakes is out now via Jailhouse Morgue digitally and on 12” vinyl @ http://terrortones.bandcamp.com/



Pete RingMaster 09/11/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

For more exploration of the independent and promotional services check out http://www.zykotika.com/

Atomic Suplex – Fourteen Inches of Fist

Atomicsupplex_RingMaster Review

Great rock ‘n’ roll always benefits from a good dose of creative dementia in its devilry and you get plenty of that and more in the bedlam that is Fourteen Inches of Fist. The new album from London quartet Atomic Suplex is nonstop ingenious lunacy, a dangerous riot for body and soul, and quite brilliant.

The UK quartet has been stirring up sonic trouble for a number of years now, earning increasing acclaim with every release and a reputation as one ferociously exciting and uncompromising band live. Stages across the UK and Europe, as well as Asia, have been shared with the likes of The Hives, Guitar Wolf, The Gories, The Adolescents, Nobunny, The Kids, Jet Boys, Armitage Shanks, Richard Herring, The Spits, The Fat White Family, The Buzzcocks, Theee Bat amongst many more whilst singles and EP’s over time, and certainly acclaimed 2010 debut album Bathroom Party on Crypt Records, have marked the band out as a must investigation for a growing horde of fans. Now it is Fourteen Inches of Fist raising a storm since its recent release, and declaring Atomic Suplex as not a must but the essential riot for all rock ‘n’ roll fans.

Sound and album is garage rock, punk rock, noise rock…any kind of dirty, insatiable rock ‘n’ roll you can think of and a torrent of fun from its first to last breath. One Man Party kicks things off with the announcement “When I say I’m a dick, you best believe I’m a dick! D- I- K.” It sets the aggressive belligerent tone which rousingly fuels the whole album, and a song which is soon erupting into a salaciously tenacious slab of punk ‘n’ roll driven by the rousing tones of Jim Suplex. A sonic web of noise is soon grasping ears through his and Emma Leaning’s guitars whilst a gloriously throaty bass sound is conjured by Dan Suplex amidst the wicked swipes of drummer JD Kickdrum. The track is pure attitude, like early Damned merging with The Sonics, and instant slavery.

The album’s title track comes next, it too a concussive explosion of sound but this time infusing honky-tonk piano, blues rock spicing, and garage rock ‘n roll devilry into its mix of raw sixties and seventies rock ‘n’ roll. Flames of brass only add to the theatre of the muggy scenery as too the gritty backing vocals of Emma behind Jim’s raw incitement. As its predecessor, the track has ears and appetite lustful, a success 14 Inches of Fist relentlessly achieves from first song to last.

Cover_RingMaster Review   Set It On Fire has limbs scything through air next with seventies punk antagonism meets psych rock contagion, its guitars and brass a resourceful scorching, whilst Wild Love invites naughty deeds with a Rocket From the Crypt meets Dick Venom and the Terrortones infestation of sound. Both tracks are ridiculously compelling persuasive yet find themselves outshine by the outstanding Firing Line. The song is manna for the ears and heart, its Mighty Mighty Bosstones like opening alone igniting the instincts to party before rhythms provide a jungle of unstoppable temptation frequented by wonderful squirts of sax. They develop into subsequent deranged toxicity further in, colluding with a just as rigorously arousing web of guitar and bass enterprise. As ever like a side show barker, Jim adds his vocal stirring to the mix for one slice of irreverent creative alchemy.

Fifties inspired and seventies coloured rock ’n’ roll gets the Atomic Suplex corruption next, the raw and caustic devilment of S. U. P. L. E. X. a tempest of sonic and vocal raucousness pierced by melodic bait and fiery hooks. It is less than a minute and a half of catchy mayhem before Two Girls flirts like a punk incarnation of The Shangri-las tutored by The Rezillos. As all songs though, air is raw, sound scuzzy, and the encounter as abrasive as it is virulent, and again thrilling.

   J.D. Attack pounds the senses like the bastard son of a Showaddywaddy and Reverend Horton Heat union, its thumping rhythms and heavyweight brawl of sound one party you know would welcome gate crashers with devilish relish whilst the corrosively scarring Ass Tecnica is noise punk knavery which, as in the previous song, twists anything from surf and r&b to garage rock into its ravenous bellow. The pair unsurprisingly leave exhaustion and exhilaration in their wake, as too the eighteen second punk assault of No Pain No Gain, a song more than backing up its title.

Like The Cramps meets The Mobbs, You’ve Got Some Nerve has the body throwing moves hips were surely not made for across its forty odd seconds, a wonderful physical test followed by some respite through the hex that is Pancho. Sultry sax caresses ears initially though in no time it is joined by a wall of sonic intrigue and adventure which has a whiff of Oh! Gunquit to it. Continuing to spill funky hooks, searing grooves, and a garage bred invention; the song is as psychotic as it is clear infection, and another pinnacle of a very lofty landscape to Fourteen Inches of Fist.

Chicken Rich is a ragtime hued haunt seeded in the past which descends into anarchy the further its nostalgia persists whilst closing track White Shoes is quite simply incendiary rock ‘n’ roll which manages to spin a tapestry suggesting everyone from Billy Haley to The Cramps, King Salami and The Cumberland 3 to Turbonegro, and Screaming Jay Hawkins to Johnny Thunders within its epidemic of unbridled energy and senses inflaming rock ‘n’ roll.

Fourteen Inches of Fist is one of the best real and organic rock ‘n’ roll album this year and of a few before, maybe the best, and Atomic Suplex the one band you were meant to lose your sanity with.

Fourteen Inches of Fist is available now via Dirty Water Records on 12” vinyl, CD, and digitally.

RingMaster 25/08/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright


The Creeping Ivies – The Witch House EP

creeping ivies_RingMaster Review

All those with dodgy hips turn away now as we have one slice of physical slavery for you courtesy of The Creeping Ivies. Revealing a new wash of ingenuity in their sound which borders on pop, the Scottish band again enthrals and seduces with their unique style of garage rock ‘n’ roll which quite simply is impossible not to get a little lustful over. Consisting of three exotically and flirtatiously sonic slices of dark rock ‘n’ roll, EP and band have ventured into a broader landscape of invention and tempting which might be best described as The Shangri-las meets The Cramps meets The Revillos at a bordello of ill-repute presided over by Johnny Thunders.

The Creeping Ivies since forming in 2011 has been no strangers to acclaim here and across media and fans thanks to two dynamically thrilling and fiercely dynamic albums and a clutch of EPs which have just lit the fires of devilry. It is fair to say that each subsequent encounter has shown a potent evolution of the band’s garage punk/rock bred sound from the last, with a matching strength in temptation. Between last year’s outstanding album Ghost World and The Witch House, the band has seen one half of the duo in drummer Duncan Destruction leave and vocalist/guitarist Becca “Bomb” Murray subsequently joined by bassist Christy Taylor and stick man Ian Duncan. With a big change to a band which has also drawn constant acclaim for a live presence taking in shows with the likes of Viv Albertine, Vic Godard & Subway Sect, Bob Log III, and The Primevals amongst many acclaimed headlining shows of their own, there was a wonder of how things would move or indeed change ahead. The Witch House swiftly shows that as ever The Creeping Ivies are an irresistible creative lure revelling in their inspirations whilst breeding their own striking imagination as they go exploring new avenues. The hex that is their sound has developed an appetite for sixties inspired pop on the EP to go along with a passion for garage rock ‘n’ roll from across the decades. The result is an EP which is majestically glorious and ridiculously addictive.

witch house cover_RingMaster Review   It opens up with its title track, The Witch House flirting through the voodoo rhythms the band has so masterfully transfixes with from day one. Where Mr Destruction’s beats used to transmit intent and resonance like a virus through ear and bone though, Duncan’s beats are more tempered to match the, dare we say mellower, tones of the music yet cast an equally lingering network of anthemic persuasion. Murray’s guitar is just as swift in its spicy coaxing as her recognisable and exhilarating vocal shrills and punkish tone. Completed by the dark rumble of Taylor’s bass, the song swings with attitude and a flirtatious swagger ripe with simple but deeply rooting Ramones seeded hooks and nostalgia bred chords. The track is scintillating revelry to start things off but just the beginning of great deeds.

The following Only the Moon opens with its own infectious shuffle, led in by more flavoursome rock ‘n’ roll guitar and blossoming into a tenacious and composed canter of sparkling riffs and grumbling rhythmic shadows. From that same moment a vibrant melodic and catchy smile also brews, erupting in a chorus complete with inciting handclaps and a vocal tempting which only the deaf could refuse full involvement with. Surf breezes and a sultry air only adds to the compelling dance of the song; sixties pop meets modern garage psychosis at its very best.

The release comes to an end through Bye Bye Babe, a track as much seventies melodic infection as it is sixties garage rock and original 21st century devilment. The guitars seem influenced by bands like The Ventures and Johnny & the Hurricanes, rhythms by bands like The Orson Family and The Bomboras, whilst Murray is like a sultry Fay Fife. Wrapped in an invention and imagination which holds whispers of possible inspirations like Josef K and The Pixies, the song is honey for ears, manna for the psyche and a third kiss of brilliance in The Witch House.

There is no denying we have had a soft spot for The Creeping Ivies since day one but equally there is no argument in the fact the band just gets bigger, better, and more essential with every proposition with The Witch House EP the finest moment for the band yet. We keep saying that over each encounter and suspect it will not be the last time either. Ahead of Your New Favourite Garage Band, a forthcoming compilation of previous singles as well as EP and album tracks from the band, this moment in time feels like The Creeping Ivies are starting a new exciting chapter with thrilling new sounds. Time to get spooked and infested guys and girls…

The Witch House EP is out now with Your New Favourite Garage Band available from October 31st, both though Flowers In The Dustbin.

RingMaster 18/08/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Venice Trip – Look Forward EP

Photo Cred Kamila K Stanley

Photo Cred Kamila K Stanley

As the summer heats up so does the wealth of smouldering and sultry sounds on offer, and possibly none as bewitching as those unveiled by UK band Venice Trip within the Look Forward EP. Bringing three songs which are fuelled by the breath of late sixties/early seventies psychedelic rock and cultured in a modern imagination, the release is a striking and captivating introduction to the London quartet which more than lives up to the buzz already arising from the band’s live presence.

Fresh from making an acclaimed appearance at The Great Escape in Brighton, the foursome of vocalist/guitarist Andrés Alcover, keyboardist/vocalist Shenny, bassist Nick GK, and drummer Joe Wood immediately has ears aflame with the EP’s title track. The opening song emerges on a feisty shuffle of rhythms and wiry riffs but it is the tangy melody which has the imagination and appetite especially drooling, its sultry shimmer and inescapable lure the lead into a rich seduction of vocals and melodic enterprise. Beats continue to cast an anthemic lure whilst a sixties glazing captivatingly coats vocals and melodies, everything uniting in a contagion which sublimely engulfs body and passions. There is no escaping a sense of The Doors to the track, but equally there are essences bred in artists such as Small Faces, Syd Barrett and more currently MGMT, as well as surprisingly a potent feel of eighties band Associates at times. The song is sensational and a dramatically thrilling start to the release.

Ep cover_RingMaster Review The following Oh Katy is a gentler caress of energy though no less infectious with its evocative grooving and glowing harmonies. The psych pop resonance of the song sizzles on the ears, its spatial tempting grounded by the just as riveting and effective melancholic bass lures amidst thick swipes upon drums. Whereas the first song has a tenacious and broad sense of life and energy, its successor offers a more intimately emotional and personal presence with a just as transfixing and intoxicating tapestry of sound. It also has a slight whisper of Arctic Monkeys to it, though again the main scent of the track is soaked in psychedelic rock from across the decades.

Look Forward closes with Father Of The Universe, another song revealing fresh depths and variety to the band’s sound. From its opening seconds it flirts with a delicious garage punk like lure, the kind of dark and psyche twisted bait which graced the likes of The Cramps and The Orson Family. Swiftly infusing more Jim Morrison and Co like acidity into its alluring grooves and an increasing seduction of keys, the song blossoms into a dramatic, bordering on psychotic waltz of creative and vocal adventure where shadows and beauty collide and collude within increasingly tempestuous character.

It is a fiery blaze bringing a superb encounter to a mighty end. With the only moan about the release being it is far too short for greedy enjoyment it feels quite safe to say that Venice Trip is going to be a major part of many musical lives and quite likely the British rock scene ahead.

The Look Forward EP is available now via RYP Recordings @ https://itunes.apple.com/gb/album/look-forward-single/id1003281940

http://venicetripmusic.com/   https://www.facebook.com/venicetripmusic

RingMaster 03/07/2015

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

Oh! Gunquit – Eat Yuppies and Dance


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’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


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

Inca Babies – The Stereo Plan

INTREPID FOX oct[1] copy

From the days when the devil thrust his evil designs into music, dark rock ‘n’ roll has been a persistent and endearing temptation. From the leather clad hip and vocal lures of Sweet Gene Vincent to the modern psychotic seductions of Dedwardians, it is a delicious trespass of ears and imagination that continues to evolve rich adventurous psyche twisting pastures. The likes of The Doors, The Cramps, The Birthday Party, Bone Orchard, The 69 Eyes, Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster, The Dropper’s Neck to name a few, have continued to expose the senses to new ravenous depths of sinister sonic exploration over the decades. One band which from their emergence in 1982 has also sculpted a perpetual warped seduction is Inca Babies. Their almost serpentine invention and dark musical incitements have continued to inspire and invigorate, even during the near on twenty years they were absent from the music scene, but since returning in 2007 you can only suggest that the UK trio must have shaken hands on a new deal with Lucifer as they have risen to truly become one of the leading lights and template setting protagonists of British rock ‘n’ roll.

The evidence is already boldly apparent in their two albums since reforming, the acclaimed Death Message Blues and Deep Dark Blue of 2010 and 2012 respectively. Both releases ignited an already ravenous gothic rock scene and duly deserved all ardour given but each in many ways was just an immense but leading appetiser for the glory of The Stereo Plan. Released towards the end of 2014, the band’s seventh studio album is a masterpiece of the dark aural arts. The third instalment of their death blues trilogy, its fourteen-track proposal twists and turns through the primal essences of post punk, surf, garage punk, trash blues, and every other dark flavour available, but bred in the imagination of Inca Babies transforms into a recipe of ingenious alchemy. It is a transfixing and slightly menacing proposition which has everything from feet to the passions ablaze.

Listening to The Stereo Plan is almost like immersing in a greatest hits collection of songs, every encounter of such irresistible and impressive invention and contagion that there is no time to take a breath and reflect until the final note of the release drifts away. It all starts with the album’s title track and its opening tangy lure of surf bred toxicity. It is an instant inescapable invitation for ears and imagination, the percussive shuffle which soon adds its bait only increasing an enticement which deepens again with the thick bass prowls of Vince Hunt. Continuing to bind ears in his guitar’s delicious spicery too, Harry Stafford pounces with his vocal and lyrical dance, as everything in the song colludes to create satanic rock ‘n’ roll majesty, especially as rhythms grow in intensity and devilment with the vocals to arouse an even lustier persuasion.

How to follow such a magnificent start would have many bands in a cold sweat but not Inca Babies as they match its majesty with a just as compelling incitement going by the name of Scatter. Stereo Plan Front 1The swinging beats of drummer Rob Haynes recruits eager attention right away, swiftly adding appetite as riffs and bass grooves unite with his anthemic beats and the incoming catchy vocal delivery. Into its stride the song expels a punk causticity around its driving rhythmic spine, the fingers of Stafford continuing to dance over the strings of his guitar to create a web of sonic addiction. The aforementioned Dewardians comes to mind as the song bounces with venomous mischief and also Eighteen Nightmares At the Lux with its scuzzy textures.

The salty smoulder of Damnation comes next, an Orson Family like countrified shimmer fuelling the temptation of guitar and rolling beats. As the opening pair of songs, psychobilly bred rapacity coats the song but also here a more garage punk tenacity emerges and grows to an even more potent persuasion in the following River To the Centre of the World. A haunting slice of upbeat balladry with a chorus which simply infests the senses, the track is dark poetic manna for ears and imagination. It also continues the mouth-watering diverse landscape of the album, each song a blossoming of individual and unique gothic theatre bred in sinistrous ideation.

The Cajun cast spell of Stand Down Lucifer keeps listener and album in lustful realms next, its sinuous shimmer and invention a creeping and inescapable seduction whilst Feast With Panthers strolls in with stalking rhythms and demonic hooks within again a fine and alluring vocal proposal. Like Th’ Legendary Shack Shakers meets The Screaming Blue Messiahs, the latter a band easy to offer varying degrees of comparison to across the album, the track swings it frame and flirtation with mischief in its eyes and a wicked lick on its melodic lips. The Stereo Plan began on a lofty pinnacle and this pair again sublimely ensures that there is no slip from such heady heights.

   Last Flight Out of Saigon with its pulsating bassline and acidic sonic veining croons suggestively in ears next, its minimalistic yet cavernous presence a mesmeric hex before the garage pop feistiness of Absolute Leader of the World leaps at the senses. Holding a great raw seventies/eighties punk essence to its contagion, the song is a sweetly caustic roar of blues rock which re-ignites body and energies after the resourceful ‘rest’ found in its predecessor.

Returning to the insidious charms which festered wonderfully in the early songs, Devilfish Anarchy stalks and romps with that gothic blues meets psychobilly predation and devilry. Beats and basslines are the instigator to lust fuelled whiplash as vocals and melodic toxins work away on thoughts and emotion. It is an exhausting pleasure whose rigorous nature is swiftly tempered and contrasted by the funereal stance and classical elegance of Still Mountain, a bewitching ballad wrapped in imposing and provocative shadows.

A dirtier yet restrained heavy rock pushes the walls of Damn Our Hides next, its persuasion not as instant as elsewhere, though swiftly a captivating companion for ears, but slowly burning away behind the scenes and repeatedly nudging thoughts after the event, as so many other songs on the album. Its enduring temptation is another striking aspect of The Stereo Plan, each twist of its design able to return at leisure and with potency, just as the heated jazziness of Ghost Ship. The track is ablaze with sultry trumpet flames, filthy basslines, and delirious sonic enterprise combining for a fiery musical sunset on an apocalyptic landscape.

The album is finished off by the excellent psyche/ surf rock stomp of Blacktop Speedway and finally the garage rock serenade of Late Night Frankie Brittle, a croon which simply grows in weight, intensity, and sonic rabidity with volcanic imagination. The pair makes a thrilling end to one irresistible encounter.

Admittedly having a soft spot for the type of sounds Inca Babies revel in went in their favour, but also it brings more demands but once again the Manchester trio stand tall over them as they again help lead British rock ‘n’ roll into new and exciting explorations.

The Stereo Plan is available now via Black Lagoon Records

http://www.incababies.co.uk/   https://www.facebook.com/incababies/

RingMaster 11/03/2015

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://reputationradio.yooco.org/

Warped romances and deathly seductions: exploring the psyche theatre of Dedwardians


The recent release of AA-sided single Love Sick/ Like An Animal reinforced UK garage punk/psyche rockers Dedwardians as one irresistibly primal and infernally seductive incitement. Breeding a raw and scuzz lit infestation of the senses and imagination from the essential essences of psychobilly, garage punk, psyche rock, fifties rock ‘n’ roll and plenty more, the London quartet has emerged as one of Britain and garage punk’s most exciting and flirtatiously inventive propositions. Already carrying a lustful appetite for the band’s sound we thought it was time to learn more about the dark sonic beast that is Dedwardians, so with thanks to drummer Ben Auston we explored the band’s origins, sound, new single and much more…

Hi and thanks for sharing time to come chat with us.

Firstly can you tell us about the background to the band and how you all linked up?

Hello there. Paul (vocals) and Gaff (guitar) found me (Ben, bass) via the bands manager at the time. We met up for a few drinks in Soho and we took it from there. We went through a couple of drummers before finding the boy wonder, Dan Bridle. As for our backgrounds, I can only guess that Paul and Gaff, being men of the North, were raised listening to Venom whilst working in a shipyard or something equally manly. We’ve all grown up playing in rockabilly, punk and rock ‘n’ roll bands….so we’ve all been cut from a similar cloth. …Faux leather.

The band members I believe hail from cities like Liverpool, Leeds, and London, but now all London based for the band. Why the choice of the Capital for the band’s home and would you Dedwardians Bencontemplate living anywhere not beginning with the letter L? ;)

We wanted to move to Aleister Crowley’s old dwelling, Boleskine House on Loch Ness, but the bedroom tax malarkey ruined that, so we settled on a 6 berth caravan in South London.

Many bands seem to start with one direction or idea of sound before emerging with or evolving to their true sound, Ministry maybe the biggest named example. With Dedwardians, I get the feeling you were all born to create the music you do, so was the sounds gracing your two singles it from day one?

Kind of…We started off with a bit more of a 1950’s rock ‘n’ roll sound with our first single – almost Jerry Lee-esque, but somehow we have gone a bit darker and twisted with the newer stuff…which I guess is more true to how we actually sound live. The name was a bit of a play on the Edwardian Drape Society/Teddy Boy thing, so we’ve not strayed too far off from the original ethos.

In our review of the new AA-sided single Love Sick/ Like An Animal we drew on comparisons to the likes of The Cramps, The Dropper’s Neck, and Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster, and we could have mentioned Gene Vincent, The Heartbreakers, early Misfits for example too. What are the predominate inspirations which have shaped your tastes and influenced your invention?

You’ve pretty much nailed it on the head with those, but The Cramps are the band we’d all agree on though if I had to pick one. We’re an eclectic bunch on the whole though. Glam through to Psychobilly, Garage Punk to Goth…we’ll borrow shamelessly from wherever. Might confuse some listeners, but hey ho.

As you just mentioned your sound really is a creative frenzy whipped up from essences of numerous styles. Has this diversity just come from all your varying tastes over time or always been there in the songwriting from day one?

It’s been there from the start. It’s becoming more diverse as things progress, which has been tricky in the past when it comes to picking what to play live as we’ve been worried about jumping too far from one style or genre to another. Somehow it always sounds like us nonetheless, so it can’t be too far off. I think we’ve got it down now though, so not too many perplexed looking faces in the crowd. Hopefully.

How would you describe your music to newcomers?

Errr, something along the lines of Gene Vincent, Lux Interior and Captain Sensible on a night bus home.

We love the band name, The Dedwardians speaking for itself and of course you touched on it earlier, but who came up with it?

I think it was Paul and his love for Teddy Boys…Or boys with teddies…Can’t remember. Good though.

Are both your singles Bang Bang Die/Stop Destroy and now of course Love Sick/ Like An Animal songs written around the same time or over different periods?

There was a bit of a gap, maybe a few months at the most. What delayed things was trying to find the right studio to get the sound we were after. Some studios we tried made us sound way too clean…completely not what we wanted, but then we didn’t want to sound too digital or heavy metal. We ended up picking Andy Brook to work with, who I’ve known for years. I wish we’d just gone to him in the first place. We’d have an album sorted by now…maybe.

Dedwardians2How are you seeing the evolution in your songwriting and sound as the band grows and matures together?

The songs are getting a bit more thought through and taking longer to sort out the final arrangements. I don’t mean in a Math Metal/Prog direction, we’re just trying to get the most out of the dynamics and avoiding becoming formulaic. Sometimes it’s tricky doing so with just one guitar, bass and drums. Saying that, Gaff is often louder than two guitarists…Sound men love him.

Is there a predominate inspiration to the lyrical and emotional side of your songs?

The only recurring theme I’ve managed to pick up on is DEATH. Which is odd, as Paul is generally a pretty cheerful chap.

Tell us about the recording of the new single. Did you have any particular intent with the tracks?

We wanted it to be loud; fuzzy guitars, big drums, over driven vocals and dirty bass. Andy Brook (engineer) pretty much got what we wanted straight away. He knew our influences better than the other studios we had recorded in, so that took a lot of the guess work out.

The songs have an instinctive, almost primal lo-fi breath. This edge makes them predatory and insatiably addictive, certainly for us drawing out the true heart of the tracks. Many bands seem almost afraid to tap into raw sounds, what lures you into this approach?

It’s probably the hatred for the opposite. We’re not Hi-Fi for sure. We’re really not about high end boutique guitar amps and overly compressed tracks. Our influences aren’t squeaky clean, perfectly auto-tuned performers. Raw is always better…Red raw.

It is fair to say you make music for you, sounds that you adore and then hope others feel the same?

Yep. Haha. Utterly selfish. When me and Gaff are writing together, we’re honestly not bothered about trying to please a certain scene or genre. If you go that route, you’d just end up sounding like you’re trying to suit a certain style.

Tell us about the video for Sick Of Love?

We shot it in a dark rehearsal room in a few hours, again, about as lo-fi as you can get. I shot most of it and edited it…DIY all the way. It’s not that we can’t afford something more grand though…we saved up enough cash to get Martin Scorsese interested, but we ended up blowing it on a night out in Skegness.

You have earned strong praise and acclaim for your live performances as well as the singles. Rampaging in front of the audience is where you really get a fire in the belly I am guessing?dedwardians3

Yep. We go for it on stage. Who doesn’t want to watch 4 sweaty blokes playing too loud for 25 mins?!

Where can people catch the band live next?

Butlins. No, err, The Finsbury, 18th December.

Any Christmas treats in store for fans with shows?

Yes, naturally. The venue’s ceiling will be so heavily adorned with mistletoe that it resembles stalactites. We have a list of all the naughty girls – Dan will be dressed as Santa for their pleasure. Paul will be dressed as an Elf. Me and Gaff will be head to toe in black leather, with tinsel detailing…humming Wizzard’s festive classic – I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday. We’re the gift that keeps on giving.

Thanks again Ben for sharing your time, anything you wish to shout out to finish off with?

A dog is for life, not just Christmas…and buy our fucking record!

Cheers Pete! Merry Crimbo!

Ben Auston

Read our review of Love Sick/ Like An Animal @ https://ringmasterreviewintroduces.wordpress.com/2014/11/22/dedwardians-love-sick-like-an-animal/


Pete RingMaster

The RingMaster Review 11/12/2014

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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