Baronen & Satan – Why Does The Blood Never Stick To Your Teeth? / Satan Is A Lady

As each year passes it seems harder to find something truly unique to feast upon so those encounters which do carry that special character make a most striking impact and hopefully temptation. The sound of Swedish outfit Baronen & Satan magnificently fits that claim and hope, its nature a psyche twisting trespass and voice a senses searing incitement which together go to make one glorious seduction on body and imagination.

Though formed in 2014 after guitarist Philippe Jean-Piere Dominique Sainz met vocalist Linda Rydelius, the pair uniting in love and creativity once meeting, our introduction to Gothenburg hailing Baronen & Satan is now through Dirty Water Records USA and their releasing of the band’s new EP, Why Does The Blood Never Stick To Your Teeth? in tandem with the re-release of 2016 album Satan Is A Lady. It is a long overdue meeting as hindsight shows the band has been teasing attention across a horde of tracks and years but one we like so many others are greedily devouring. Completed by bassist Marie Bergkvist and drummer Stefan Young Sik Olsson earlier this year, Baronen & Satan create what we assumed has been self-penned as “Garagedeath”.  Whatever you call it, the Baronen & Satan sound is a wonderfully invasive yet flirtatious trespass of reverb grafted adventure conjured from a mix of garage and psych rock, garage punk, noise, and punk rock with plenty more teasing away in its predacious and haunting swamp thick sonic psychosis.

Produced by Jim Diamond (White Stripes, Dirt Bombs), Baronen & Satan’s new EP greedily consumes the senses from its first breath. Why Does The Blood Never Stick To Your Teeth? opens up with new single Elisa and instantly consumes ears in a tide of riffs and rhythms entangled in spicily melodic tendrils. As a bass grumble teases, beats fly with fevered energy, Sainz’s guitar weaving away with salacious grooves as the distinct and unique tones of Rydelius deliciously ‘whine’. Her presence almost steals all attention but with the devilish textures and enterprise at play around her, the whole song seduces in equal measure to get things flying.

The following Buttermilk Sky has a similar but fully individual presence and sound, its psych and garage rock bred rock ‘n’ roll an incitement to appetite and hips as it dances provocatively in ears. Its citric melodic spicing is less kind in the second track compared to its predecessor but just as alluring; the song offering a beefier intrusion taken to darker temptation yet again in the EP’s title track. With the swinging biting beats of Olsson rampant and Bergkvist’s bass sound gnarly, seduction is swift from personal tastes; add the sonic squall of Sainz and Rydelius hellish beauty in voice  and submission to the track’s rapacious rock ‘n’ roll is welcome slavery which the melodic toxicity with its tinge of Echo and The Bunnymen compounds.

All three tracks unite for one unwavering increasing addictive proposal to have us reeled in hook line and sinker; a triumph equally matched by last year’s album, Satan Is A Lady. It similarly needs mere seconds to tempt and begin brewing up a tight grip as opener Lady Creature lies its initial sonic nagging upon ears. Quickly the boisterous beats of Olsson descend and romp; the track bouncing around with eager tenacity as Rydelius casts her riveting vocal antics into the stomping devilment of a proposal. At times Scottish trio The Creeping Ivies is provoked in thought by the track but a great spicing to something again as unique as all the subsequent essences and adventures across the album prove to be, all hues in viral sonic toxins particular to Baronen & Satan.

Next up is Catwalk, its feline prowl lively and predacious with Olsson’s swings marking every step with zeal. Always fuelled by a boisterous spirit, the song stalks the listener as vocals wrap their flirtatious clutches around psych and garage infestation. Magnetic drama, the song sublimely bewitches before the even more energetic exploits of Asskisser bound in. With shimmering sonic suggestion and more rhythmic rascality, a PiL-esque sheen invading its bold canter, the track commands the listener like a puppeteer, its noise nurtured tendrils veining its wonderful manipulation.

Headcuts lurks and taunts with an instantly open Cramps inspiration, continuing to size up its victim before launching into a rapacious garage punk stroll with fifties rockabilly spicing. As its predecessor, the track is glorious; caustic manna for ears and instincts which a fine line of sixties garage rock a la Cradle to add another twist.

Expanding and thickening its ravenous enterprise and character, Satan Is A Lady hits another sweet spot with the sonic buzz of The Projects, a minute and a breath of irresistible niggly punk rock which Comet emulates in success with its own demonic affair for ears and imagination. As most tracks, its core is a relentless nagging which gets right under the skin; heavy dark bait bred on rhythmic and sonic almost wanton dexterity honed into a cauldron of virulent temptation as carefully woven as it is rabidly unleashed.

The album’s title track swings in with muscles tensed next, a riveting PiL meets Siouxsie and the Banshees hook circling ears as once more the compelling tones of Rydelius grip the bold intrusion. Sainz’s initial bait swiftly develops a Buzzcocks spiced essence as the track flexes its animated imagination, every second a beguiling and infectious scheme to enslave.

Through the psychotic stomp of Pony and its sonic Cramps meets the Orson Family moonshine pleasure only escalates, the latter of those hues a bolder essence in the dark saunter of Sugarwalls which too only inflames an already greedy appetite for band and sound. Invasively ethereal and ravenously portentous, the song also gives a glimpse of what you might imagine bands like Blood Ceremony and Jess and the Ancient Ones could sound like if mutant off springs of Lux Interior and Jim Morrison.

The album ends with the invasively haunting Underwater Love, an immersion into a sonic sea of intrigue and unpredictable imagination steered by the alluring vocal ingenuity of Rydelius. It is dark, bordering on suffocating and a compelling end to a quite thrilling and refreshing album.

Uniqueness is rare but when it comes it should be devoured especially when it bears the dark discord and beauty of Baronen & Satan.

Both Why Does The Blood Never Stick To Your Teeth? and Satan Is A Lady are out now @ https://baronenandsatan.bandcamp.com/album/why-does-the-blood-never-stick-to-your-teeth  and https://baronenandsatan.bandcamp.com/album/satan-is-a-lady respectively.

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Pete RingMaster 07/11/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Oh! Gunquit – Lightning Likes Me

This is your one time warning; prepare for your lungs to burst and veins to pop not forgetting hips to feverishly swing, rumble bop freakabillys Oh! Gunquit are back in town to tease and incite with a new album. The London based outfit left bodies sweaty, exhausted, and lustful with their first album Eat Yuppies and Dance back in 2015 but be warned it will all have felt like a warm up compared to the devilish antics Lightning Likes Me will have you getting up to.

Hints of things to come were alive in the band’s recent single Nomads Of The Lost, a track which suggested that the quintet had found wilder and even more salacious essences in their songwriting and sound; something Lightning Likes Me quickly and increasingly confirms song after song. It should be of no surprise really, since emerging in 2010/11 from the creative union of vocalist/trumpeter Tina Swasey and guitarist/vocalist Simon Wild, the band has only raised the ante and revelry of their psych-surf/garage-punk infused rock ‘n’ roll. With its members in bassist VV, drummer Alex De Renzi and newest member Chuchi Malpersona on sax alongside Swasey and Wild hailing from Italy, USA, Colombia, Spain, and the UK, there is a cosmopolitan fever to their music which in turn encourages its trickery to new heights, a plateau now set very high within Lightning Likes Me.

As soon as the fiery guitar strokes of opener So Long Sucker finger ears, the album is up and running, toning and driving the body like a puppeteer. Brass and rhythms are soon blazing and stomping across the infectious proposal, Swasey’s enthusiasm soaked vocals equally as persuasive while clad in defiance and carnal incitement. The track continues to twist and bounce like a rock ‘n’ roll dervish, every second getting under the skin and into the bones.

It is a tremendous start instantly backed up by the rhythmically tenacious antics of Get Wound Up. As De Renzi’s swings land with boisterous dexterity, sax and trumpet blaze away with suggestion and heat with Swasey all the while leaping across every strand of temptation with vocal agility. It is a song which dares you to get physically involved note by note, an invitation impossible to refuse in limb and energy before both are consumed all over again by the outstanding Nomads Of The Lost. With a swagger in its hips and confidence, the song saunters in with flirtatious infectiousness oozing from every note and syllable. Taunting riffs and sax teasing leads the way as vocals again ride the canter with their own irresistible persuasion, group calls another subsequent tempting impossible not to join as the chorus infests. Not for the last time, there are hints of bands like The Revillos and The Creeping Ivies to the devilry; bewitching essences in a captivation all of the Oh! Gunquit making.

Fireballs boogies in ears next with its garage rock psyche pop, its crescendo building surges a deceptive pleasure as they never erupt into a full-on blaze, just into the next cycle of irrepressible teasing for its own heat soaked orgasmic pleasure while Never Sorry plunders the decades for its psyche infesting rock ‘n’ roll, flirting with the inspirations of artists like the 5678’s and April March along the way. Both tracks are sheer addiction in the making though that equally applies to the whole of the album including the thicker boned Suzy Don’t Stop. The rhythmic bullying is raw feet temptation whilst the fire borne strains of guitar and brass are delicious toxins in the virulence of song and vocal exhortation.

The garage punk ‘n’ roll voodoo of Smiling Snake is a fifties bred, freshly re-animated thrill; a Wanda Jackson and Imelda May blended suggestion bound in the stringed imagination of Poison Ivy and quite irresistible though just as attention and lust is quickly stolen by it from its predecessor it is then lost to Walking The Streets which too has more than a rich spicing of The Cramps to its personality. Its creative stroll is manna to the passions and an unforgiving consumption of the hips, leading them to delirium soaked exhaustion. The track simply takes over body and spirit and take it from us just gets more potent and masterful with every groove woven outing.

Next up is Greasy Moves which, without credit on its press release or in any additional digital information sought so far, features guest vocals from someone which sounds inimitably like King Salami. The initial stomp of guitar and brass with rhythms swinging turns into a sweltering stroll of salacious suggestion, a primal dance which again has the ears and body locked into its blue kissed flirtation with no sign of resistance.

Finishing off the album with its own infernal devouring is Captain Of the Creeps; an incessant nagging of senses and limbs woven into a tapestry of iniquitous imagination and enterprise. It pretty much sums up all the attributes found across the whole of the unique rock ‘n’ roll contagion that is Lightning Likes Me, adding a few more of its own as the album leaves in rousing style though not for long as the urge to start the merciless party off again is king.

Last time around Oh! Gunquit gave us one of the best outings of the year this time it just might be the very best; there are few contenders to rival it for sure.

Lightning Likes Me is out now via Decapitator and Dirty Water Records https://ohgunquit.bandcamp.com/album/lightning-likes-me-lp-cd

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

Pete RingMaster 26/09/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Twelve Boar – No Forgiveness

We have no idea why they expanded the moniker from XII Boar to Twelve Boar but it has coincided with a whole new thrust of mischief and variety in the British heavy rockers sound as in mouth-watering evidence on new album No Forgiveness. The trio from Aldershot still conjure up and unleashed tides of southern fried grooves, thumping rhythms, and ravenous riffs, traits they have become acclaimed for but it all comes with a new carefree fun and adventure. Let us be clear, the band has never been anything other than the rich source of both across a host of songs and releases but No Forgiveness more than most raises the middle finger in a motion beckoning all to come in and join their riotous party.

Since the release of debut EP, Split Tongue, Cloven Hoof back in 2012, Twelve Boar has made an inescapable impact on the UK rock scene. Its well-received, attention grabbing success was just the teaser for the plaudits which eagerly gathered around the uncaging of debut album Pitworthy in 2015 and the even more acclaimed Beyond The Valley of The Triclops last year. Each backed up a live presence and reputation which has equally only grown year on year until it is fair to say that the threesome of vocalist/guitarist Tommy Hardrocks, bassist Adam Thomas, and drummer Dave Wilbraham is now regarded by a great many as one of the most essential roars on the UK scene. There still maybe a few yet to discover the instinctive stomp of Twelve Boar but only something No Forgiveness will soon sort out.

Beyond The Valley of The Triclops certainly hinted at the multi-flavoured evolution of the Twelve Boar sound but No Forgiveness gives it to you unbridled and face on, so much so that the first listen, whilst stirring up the passions, has us questioning whether we missed the dirtier thunderous trespasses of times past. The second listen then revealed that nothing has changed, the band still brewing a sound caked in rock ‘n’ roll soil which leaves the body exhausted and shaking from the onslaught but with a fresh toxin of fun involved, and the third listen…that is when the lust breaks out.

Recorded with producer Chris Fielding, No Forgiveness goes straight for ears with spice loaded grooves and ear rapping beats as Steppin’ Up gets things rolling. The gravelly tones of Hardrocks stand astride the tendrils of guitar, riding the grooves as bass and beats throb and land with a brooding intent.  A slab of muscular rock ‘n’ roll the band is certainly renowned for it then throws an unexpected twist in its midst as it slips into a mellow intoxication of melody and clean vocals though the moment is just the teaser to a waiting lustily fiery stroll. It is a great start to the release but soon overshadowed time and time again starting with Golden Goose. The second track instantly shows attitude in its riffs which continues to colour its character even as rap metal flavoured vocals dance devilishly on the emerging encounter. From thereon in heavy rock ‘n’ roll and that nu-metal toned adventure collude and interact enticing further whiffs of extreme metal and desert rock into the mix.

The Curtain Call swaggers in next with hooks lining every swing of its rhythmic hips and sultry grooves. Sabbath-esque riffs are openly embraced by the band then infested with their own devilment as rhythms harry the senses throughout, often dancing like a dervish as another dose of great diversity grabs the vocals. The track is glorious, Twelve Boar at the inimitable best and swiftly matched by the album’s southern bred title track. An acoustic strum is joined by vibrating beats as Hardrocks growls, the song sauntering along with accusation on its breath. In time everything finds a new tenacity and muscle, the encounter grabbing hips and appetite like a fine, throat burning bourbon.

Stealing the best song plaudits, Elders From The Deep dives in next, the track filthy rock ‘n’ roll stomping like Motorhead meeting Gene Vincent as The Cramps bring their salacious garage rock antics to the fun. The track is irresistible, a sinful slice of addictiveness which truly had this appetite drooling long before it had to make way for the blues rock romping of Snake On A Lead. As its predecessor, the song just hits the spot with flirtatious grooves and bone rattling rhythms, it knowing all the right buttons to push to have the body bouncing and a lively spirit fuelling keen physical involvement.

The crawling almost predatory opening prowl of All the Heavy Griftin’ instantly whets the appetite but it is just the prelude to another stonking rock ‘n’ roll canter impossible not to get infested by. If you had any doubts that Twelve Boar know how to rock until the sweat flows like a river and fingers bleed, than this virulently contagious track alone will wipe them away.

The brief sweltering climate of instrumental Panama lures ears into the landscape you can imagine the waiting final track Hellspeed Truckin’ would be rolling down. In the closer tarmac punishing riffs and air cutting rhythms shape the adventure, the bass a hypnotic driver with vocals holding the wheel. As grooves sear the scenery raw adrenaline flows through sound and voice, the track in top gear never flirting with the brakes until the body lies prostrate in its dust.

Wrapped in the striking artwork of Rahadil Hermana, No Forgiveness is quite simply one of the major treats of the year. It is relentlessly energetic, hungry, and fun from a band driven by those self-same attributes as well as an instinct and the craft to turn it all into one rousing experience. XII or Twelve Boar, they are still helping drive the UK heavy rock scene from the frontline.

No Forgiveness is out now and available @ https://xiiboar.bandcamp.com/ or http://xiiboar.bigcartel.com

http://www.xiiboar.com/     https://www.facebook.com/xiiboar/    https://twitter.com/xiiboar

Pete RingMaster 15/09/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Suicide Generation – 1st Suicide

Basking in its own dirt and scuzz, the Suicide Generation sound is a fervid rush of trashy goodness which ensures the band’s new album is an unmissable treat for all fans of uncompromising rock ‘n’ roll. The bastard son from a salacious collusion between members of Atomic Suplex, The Cavemen, and Trash Culture, the London based punksters feverishly graze ears with a raw wash of garage punk/rock from start to finish within their debut full length 1st Suicide, sucker-punching the senses along the way with rapacious hooks which just worm into the psyche like a virus.

Supposedly coming together “to fill in for cancelled support slots across the Tuesday night London gigging circuit”, Suicide Generation has quickly become an eagerly devoured proposition on the capital’s live scene with their chaotic and explosive shows; their attack and intent as unpredictable as their sound. Recently linking up with Dirty Water Records, the band is now gunning for bigger attention with 1st Suicide, a release which swarms through ears like a plague of buzzsaw carrying harpies.

The album descends on ears with opener Suicide Generation first of all; one minute and a handful of seconds of clanging rock ‘n roll led by the exasperated tones of frontman Sebastian Melmoth. Every aspect of the track is as muggy as it is concussive but veined by intricate melodic acidity which winds seductively around the fuzzy antics of Emily Crowler’s rhythm guitar. It is a potent, enticing smog of sound swiftly out powered and shone by Why Can’t I Play With You. The second track needs mere seconds to lay down heavy seductive hooks within a similarly intensive weight of sound. A Cramps-esque hue smokes vocals and sound alike, Suicide Generation finding a gripping rawness which even their assumed inspirations would have eagerly embraced as the song flirts and dances with garage rock and punk irritability.

Set Me On Fire has a certain air of The Reatards to its similarly crotchety rock ‘n’ roll straight after, guitars scything across the senses as rhythms rumble with tenacious zeal, while Nora aligns a fifties smoulder with seventies punk waspishness for its individual stomp. Both tracks have the body and imagination eagerly throwing discord loaded shapes before London Blues strolls along with dirty blues punk falling like drooling saliva from every note and syllable. An open psychosis oozes through voice and music alike, its mercurial heart unpredictable and constantly in flux as it captivates and assaults the listener.

They are instantly involved with the brawling escapade of Love Is Hate straight after, the track a beguiling animus of sonic and emotional testiness enjoyably harassing the senses with the clamour of guitars and the spite of rhythms. It is a mix also fuelling next up Little Mama, the track resembling The Phantom basted in rock ‘n’ roll filth whilst sending the hips into an anxious frenzy.

That same instinctive primal sound infests Evil Everywhere and once again the band twists it into something distinct within the release and other propositions; the track a hyperactive dirt ball of sound and energy leading into the closing treat of You Love Me. Initially prowling ears with a devious glint in its creative eye, the band’s punk instincts soon ignites in a high-strung blaze of sonic causticity and wired verbal dexterity driven by rhythms which just seduce attention whether the track smoulders or roars.

1st Suicide is a collection of songs which just please themselves with a similarly arrogant creativity, in turn their brashness and swagger turning on ears and an ever keen appetite for unpolished rock ‘n’ roll. The Suicide Generation is here and openly ready to tear up your world.

1st Suicide is out now on Dirty Water Records @ https://suicidegeneration666.bandcamp.com/releases and http://www.dirtywaterrecords.co.uk/shop/#!/Suicide-Generation-First-Suicide-album-download/p/86922972/category=2749844

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Pete RingMaster 12/07/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

 

Snakerattlers – This Is Rattlerock

If ever there was a sound epitomising the dirty trespasses of the graveyard and the unbridled fetish escapades of cultish deviancy, it is that of British duo Snakerattlers. Like the occupants of those domains, the band’s sound is a lo-fi sonic trespass stripped to its bare bones but wearing the raw traits of a wealth of styles and flavours, all dirt sodden, feverish, and forcibly compelling. It is self-penned as rattle rock and is uncaged in full force within the pair’s ear gripping, spirit rousing debut album This Is Rattlerock.

The band is the creation of husband and wife Dan and Naomi Gott, previously of garage punk band The Franceens. Their new project, Snakerattlers unknowingly had its seeds sown when Naomi wanted to learn how to play drums. Going along with her to practices with his guitar, a sound and creative spark instantly caught their attention and thoughts that there was “the potential to be a lot more than just a rehearsal room jam band” in their exploration. What emerged is a fusion of garage rock, death punk, and psychobilly embedded into a rockabilly heart; a bold bare arsed roar of sound which now rips, rattles, and rolls the senses within the band’s sensational first album, a proposition recorded on reel-to-reel tape by Adam Richards of Leeds rockabilly outfit, X Ray Cat Trio.

Imagine the creative instincts of Link Wray, Hasil Adkins, The Cramps, Dick Venom, and The Creeping Ivies entwined and twisted and you get a flavour of the Snakerattlers infestation of ears and imagination. As mentioned, it is a raw and often scarring trespass which challenges and inspires whilst simultaneously thrilling and lustfully exciting from the opening seconds of first track, I Won’t Hold Back. The opener hits attention with a great guitar jangle initially, Dan’s vintage spice an instinctive lure soon joined by the punchy swings of Naomi as a Cramps meets Johnny Burnette like intrusion trespasses the senses and a swiftly established appetite. With the guitarist’s vocals an equally potent lure, the brief song prowls the listener, jabbing its lingering toxicity into the passions like a slow but determined tattooist.

The great start is continued by Let You Go where a thick almost throaty jangle is the tease into a more rampant and feverish stomp of swinging beats and tenacious riffs. Old school rockabilly infested by current day garage punk devilry and a plague of hooks which refuse to relinquish their hold of the imagination, the track is a roaring addiction within one listen, an eternal nagging thereon in but equalled by the more controlled but just as scuzzy exploits of Rattlerock Rumble. As a jungle of rhythms ensnare feet, guitar exploits use hips like a puppeteer in the predominantly instrumental incantation before Oh My Love lurches into view with a dark swagger and clamorous nature though both are wrapped in a restraint which only adds fuel to the song’s magnetic fire. Like Johnny Carroll meets The Novas, the track is pure bewitchment with an occasional venomous bite.

Let The Devil In Your Soul is another encounter which stalks the senses, its keen but controlled stroll belying a predatory nature taking swipes through the poised but examining beats of Naomi and the angular clamour of Dan’s guitar. With his vocals a soothing but equally volatile enticement, it is again impossible not to be hooked on the song’s seduction or indeed in turn on the more tempestuous instrumental rumble of Death Valley Driver which follows. It is an unrelenting road trip which has the body in motion and thoughts conjuring, both aspects again busily employed by the cinematic suggestiveness of The Love In Me. Like a sweaty kitchen sink drama, the song is a bare and honest hug of sound and emotion, its lines fuzzy and touch raw and oh so tempting. Even so, the great song is still eclipsed by the breath-taking stomp of Sweet Sixteen; a scuzz ball of rock ‘n’ roll woven from the decades of the genre and delivered with a fried electricity and concussive energy which leaves the senses reeling and blissful.

The zombie crawl of Bones infests the psyche next; its lumbering tenacious surge into the imagination littered with rhythmic bites and viscerally sonic waves as Dan’s vocals alone coax and prey. Once more submission to sound and album is swift and full leaving the final track to cap an already done deal between band and certainly these listeners. Ripper Rattle Rock simply lives up to its name like a fractious yet salacious fusion of The Cramps, Hasil Adkins, and Into The Whale. The track is rock ‘n’ roll in its unfussy prime but equipped with all the primal lures and seductions you could wish for as the album comes to one glorious unsterilized raunchy conclusion.

With The Franceens coming to an end earlier this year, the York pair have the time and energy to solely concentrate on Snakerattlers and they are going to need all of both if This Is Rattlerock catches the fire of attention that it simply deserves.

This Is Rattlerock is out now through Moon Skull Records @ https://moonskull.bandcamp.com/releases

http://www.snakerattlers.com/about.html    https://www.facebook.com/snakerattlers/

Pete RingMaster 28/06/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Dirty Jane – Boogie Monster

There is a new hypnotic rumble brewing in the belly of the Birmingham underground scene and it goes by the name of Dirty Jane. This salaciously flirtatious garage punk ‘n’ roll filly is not exactly brand new, the British trio emerging in 2014 but they have just made their national introduction with debut single Boogie Monster, a track with a primal swagger which simply infests body and spirit.

Consisting of vocalist/guitarist Jack Brown, bassist John Beadsmore, and drummer Elliot Morris, Dirty Jane has become an eagerly supported and talked about proposition within the Midlands music scene; earning a fine reputation for their energetic live presence amidst shows alongside the likes of The Strypes, The Sherlocks, The Computers, The Dirty Nil and most recently Hvmm. As mentioned, Boogie Monster is the band’s first fingering of national attention and surely lustful reactions such the infectious devilry breeding the single.

Fusing garage punk and punk rock with fifties rock ‘n’ roll, the Dirty Jane sound prowls ears and psyche like a fusion of The Cramps, The Phantom, Dick Venom and The Terrortones, and Eighteen Nightmares At the Lux; a creative breed of temptation which instantly has ears and appetite inflamed as the single sonically and vocally shatters the silence. Within another breath, rhythms are prowling the senses with a lively almost predacious gait casting catchy menace for Brown to vocally embrace. With insatiable hooks equally grabbing ears all along his guitar’s swarthy grooves, a delicious grumble to Beadsmore’s bass alongside, and the whole of the band courting thick involvement with their vocal roars, the song demands lusty participation, Morris’ tenaciously swinging beats extra incentive.

Produced by Gavin Monaghan, Boogie Monster is quite simply irresistible; its psych rock essences icing on the diablerie escaping the band and if a sign of things to come, the beginning of major mischief and adventure for and from Dirty Jane.

Boogie Monster is out now on 7” from the Magic Garden Vinyl @ http://magicgardenvinyl.uk/Store/ and digitally through iTunes.

http://www.dirtyjane.co.uk/    https://www.facebook.com/Dirtyjanemusic/   https://twitter.com/dirtyjaneuk

Pete RingMaster 04/04/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Hangmen – Necronomicon

photo by Phil Whiteley_Intial P Photography

It might not always have been openly declared but there is no escaping that British cult rockers, The Hangmen have been an inspiring force on the underground psychobilly scene since the early nineties and the first of seven greedily devoured and increasingly lauded albums. They defy, nay violate accepted musical conventions and expectations in attitude, deed, and sound whilst creating a blend of psychobilly and garage punk which only inspires in its uniqueness and irreverence; the evidence in the sounds escaping the imagination of bands like Dick Venom and The Terrortones and Dedwardians whether from direct or third hand inspiration. Now the trio return with a new three track infestation of body and psyche, an irresistible trespass sure to have even more willingly swinging from their creative gallows.

This new studio material has been a long awaited incitement, anticipation hanging on since the release of seventh album Cacklefest! in 2007, though there was also the rarities collection of Exhumed & Groomed to drool over three years ago. It has been fresh dark Hangmen swing fans have yearned for though and Necronomicon more than delivers. It is the most predatory and creatively deranged adventure yet with the threesome of vocalist/guitarist Loz Firewalker, bassist/vocalist Leapin’ Lizard Phillips, and drummer Dyin’ Ryan and with all its songs taken from upcoming full-length Hells Vagina, The EP is a salacious teaser of hell bent rock ‘n’ roll at its most deviously compelling.

The EP’s title track is first up, its homage to cult movie gem Evil Dead pure invasive theatre. From its initial piano cursed fingering of the imagination, the track twists into a predacious stroll with infection seeping from every pore. Swinging beats and a heavy rapacious bassline courts the senses whilst a seductively nagging hook teases, Firewalker barging in with his vocal roar as raucously backed by the vociferous tones of Phillips. Dragging the listener into its transfixing hellbound realm prone to caustic expulsions, harrying them with a gloriously plodding prowl, the track reveals itself as raw virulence cast in something approaching The Cramps meeting Th’ legendary Shack Shakers as The Orson Family add their incestuous lures ultimately emerging as a depraved invasion all of the band’s making.

The punk stomp of Collarbomb keeps the pleasure as lustfully inflamed, its own naturally mischievous and virulent swagger rapturous bait alone only matched up by the spicy grooves and fifties seeded boldness fuelling its persistently dynamic and insatiable two minute epidemic.

It is fair to say these ears and appetite were fevered by the end of the pair and only ignited again by closer The Great Brain Robbery, the song managing to find an even rawer toxic majesty to its clamour. Driven by a forceful strut with bedlam in its arsenal, the track as its predecessors swiftly gets under the skin incessantly ravishing the senses with its instinctive and inventive babel.

Necronomicon is the kind of treat for which any length of wait can be accepted while providing a taster of a release which will be even more desperately anticipated from this point on.

The Necronomicon EP is out now through Moon Skull Records on 10″ vinyl and download @ https://hangmen666.bandcamp.com/album/necronomicon-ep

Video directed/edited by Ryan Pilot

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Pete RingMaster 17/03/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright