I Am Duckeye – Songs From The Gunt

IAD_RingMasterReview

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Upcoming tour gigs

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

Pete RingMaster 01/03/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Love Buzzard – Antifistamines

LB_RingMaster Review

A riotous stomp embracing rock ‘n’ roll over the decades within its psyche punk /garage rock bred escapades, the debut album from UK duo Love Buzzard is lo-fi, high grade devilry to get lustfully involved with. Antifistamines sizzles on the senses, creating a mischievous and increasingly incendiary introduction to the pair of vocalist/guitarist Kevin Lennon and drummer Al Brown (the man behind Fluffer Records). Love Buzzard has a sound living up to its name too, music which insatiably seduces whilst stalking and preying on the carcass of the senses.

From around the release of first 7”double A-sided single Everything About You / Caught in The Deed in 2013, Love Buzzard has played over 150 gigs around the UK single, sharing stages with the likes of Cerebral Ballzy, Slaves, and God Damn along the way. The end of 2014 saw the release of a five-track self-titled EP on Brown’s Fluffer Records, a fiery encounter raising potent anticipation for the band’s first full-length. Released last year digitally and on CD, Antifistamines recently had its rousing body unveiled on special edition vinyl via legendary punk label 1-2-3-4 Records, the home of The Buzzcocks, Arrows Of Love, and Bad For Lazarus. Quite simply it is a raw and ravenous slab of rock ‘n’ roll with a broad brush of variety that is sure to fire up the energies of punks, rockers, bluesmen, and post-punksters alike.

The album starts with a bang courtesy of Cash; the pounding beats of Brown descending on ears from the first second as the spicy grooves of Lennon fizz and fiercely shimmer on the senses soon after. Hooks are as vibrant as the overall swing of the song too, its garage rock tenacity like a mix of Eighties Matchbox B-line Disaster and US duo In The Whale and as tasty as that mix suggests. An all-out assault unafraid to relax into momentary blues seeded seducing, the stunning opener leaves exhaustion and rich pleasure in its wake before the even more muscular Headrush snarls and barges into view. It too has the instinctive virulence of pure rock ‘n’ roll aligned to a just as contagious metallic intensity, not forgetting Cramps-esque mayhem.

art_RingMaster ReviewThrough the stoner laced fire of Beams and the dark seduction of Creep And Crawl, band and album has the body increasingly bouncing. The first is an agitated ball of steamy grooves whilst its successor dips into its passion for the blues to uncage another ravenous haze of tangy rock rabidity, though its own boisterous exuberance is eclipsed by that of the psychobilly/garage punk infestation of the psyche that is Passion. As the opening track it breaches a plateau that all tracks seriously worry, staking its claim as one of the major pinnacles of Antifistamines. Its success is matched by the equally psychotic and irresistible Superglue where Lennon and Brown create a jungle of temptation with their searing grooves and anthemic beats respectively; the former subsequently unleashing his ever magnetic vocal energy and persuasion to seal the deal between sound and ears.

Recently released as a video to tease attention and ears into the album, Wild blazes away next. It is a muggy and inflamed embrace of garage rock, a captivation which singes the senses whilst stirring up the imagination with gentle melodies and emotive lures within an otherwise ferocious climate. For personal tastes, the song does not make the same impact as the tracks around it but certainly keeps an eager appetite fulfilled before the schizo shuffle of Give It Some Range and the surf rock romancing of Heaven’s Got An Electric Fence again has body and passion leaping around without inhibition. The two alone are glorious examples of the diversity and creative adventure in the album, a bold resourcefulness which never breaks the kindred spirit flowing through the album.

Origins is another slow burner compared to others for these ears but easy to devour with its toxic grooving whilst the album’s title track badgers and nags like a middleweight boxer, Brown taking jabs as Lennon’s guitar and vocals flirt and dance around. The latter of the pair especially rouses the spirit with its Fat Dukes Of Fuck meets Hasil Adkins like revelry and is quickly emulated in feverish kind by Lines and its catchy merger of blues and fifties rock ‘n’ roll before Tower entwines some southern goodness into its adrenaline fuelled punk ‘n’ roll stomping. The track is a mouth-watering end to the album though the vinyl version has another five slices of rousing goodness.

The first is the cavernously raw Oh and garage punk at its most deviously addictive. Its inescapable slavery is followed by the wiry charms and thick belligerence of the outstanding Caught In The Deed and in turn the psychobilly sultriness of Rule This Town. These three alone are worth the purchase of the vinyl version, even if already owning one of the other options, but add a deranged and masterful cover of the Gang Of Four track Guns Before Butter and it is a no brainer. The duo takes a classic and turns it into another, retaining the cold air and rhythmic hypnotism of the original whilst igniting a tempest of energy and psychosis to bask in. Make You Mine is the final bonus song, a twenty second sing-a-long which simply leaves ears and mood on a high.

In a time of impressive rock duos, Love Buzzard installs themselves as one of the most exciting and addictive through Antifistamines. Rock ‘n’ roll is meant to be raw, impassioned, and bred to lead all into bad habits. Their album has all that and plenty more, and believe us when we say Love Buzzard has only just started.

Antifistamines is out now digitally and on Cd @ https://lovebuzzard.bandcamp.com/ and on fluorescent green vinyl via 1-2-3-4 Records @ http://www.1234records.com/#!blank/ez8yd/e3b62f39-bef9-c7ac-6707-f65fd40866a2

http://www.lovebuzzard.com/   https://www.facebook.com/LoveBuzzard   https://twitter.com/Love_Buzzard

Pete RingMaster 23/02/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Hag – Fear Of Man

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Sucking ears, senses, and emotions into its tar thick tempest, Fear Of Man is an incitement hard not to get a little lustful over. The nine track primal roar of punk fuelled, noise lit sludge ‘n’ roll is the return of London based Hag, a trio which first gripped attention with their self-titled debut EP back in 2010. The past five years have seen the band on the backburner in regard to attention but things are ready to boil over as their striking first album begins crawling over the metal/heavy rock scene.

The trio of Ian Baigent (vocals/guitar), Robin Freeman (bass), and Tamas Kiss (drums), united again with Part Chimp’s Tim Cedar at South London’s Dropout Studios to record Fear Of Man. The result is a dirty and sonically corrosive slab of instinctive rock ‘n’ roll with persistently salacious riffs, nastily bred rhythms, and cantankerously snarled vocals. Getting its subsequent release via the newly formed DNAWOT Records, the album is insatiable virulence; a gut twisting, psyche bending contagion which leaves ears and appetite very greedy.

art_RingMaster Review     The album’s title track starts the thrilling violation, its lumbering body prowling the senses initially as guitar and bass spread intrusive riffs backed by the hefty swipes of Kiss. Almost deceptively the song is soon enveloping the listener, vocals fusing melody and aggression as they lead the swarm of gnarly sound and invasive shadows. Even more invasive as the album proceeds, Fear of Man is like a cauldron seeded in Melvins, High On Fire, Pigs, and The Great Sabatini but becoming more distinct in character and individuality with every raw trespass offered.

As potent as the opener is, it is soon eclipsed by the outstanding Kingdom O. The track instantly showers ears in a barrage of addictive riffs and barracking beats entwined with catchy enterprise and a juicy sonic hook that seems to linger even as the rawer treats within the song have their say. It is gripping and addictive tempting that just gets more busy and tenacious with every thumping rhythm and punkish expulsion within the winy stoner-esque climate.

Rainbow Dust has body and soul snagged by its first wall of noise and enslaved with the swift web of sonic imagination which nets ears and the dark corners of song and voice soon after whilst Trauma Yauma provides a bedlamic provocation bulging with feverish sonic rabidity and knee buckling rhythms. Both tracks twist and turn within their core intents, the second especially riveting as the bass grumbles with craft and imaginative expression whilst prowling the ravenous tempest of guitar and confrontational vocal. The track is a major highlight amongst many and quickly matched by the anthemic nagging of Low. Like The Fat Dukes Of Fuck meets Sofy Major, the heavy rocker swings along with creative muscles to the fore but all the time it brews grooves which get right under the skin.

Up against the previous pair, Metal Detector Man struggles to escape their shadows yet still it unwinds a tapestry of binding grooves and a bracing collusion of riffs and rhythms that is easy to be eagerly entangled in with a want for more. To be fair, the track simply grows in the ear and over time stands as impressive as most before, and after it like the sonically dirty and predatory White Lion and after that the acidic rumble that is Beaten At Your Own Game. The first of the two is an intrusive infection of heavyweight, fire bred rock ‘n’ roll taking chunks out of the senses whilst laying deep rooting hooks into the passions like a Cenobite whilst its successor creates its own slightly cleaner but no less rapacious blaze of volatile sound and intensity lined with melodic imagination.

The album finishes with Wrong Bar, a final tsunami of brooding energy woven into winding sonic tendrils and crawling discontent shaped as rolling rhythms and anthemic persuasion. It is a masterful and invigorating end to a release which persistently leaves the inspiration to challenge the world in its wake.

Hag may have taken their time to back up their earlier EP but are back fiercer, bolder, and more relentlessly impressive in all aspects with Fear Of Man.

Fear Of Man is available from January 8th via DNAWOT Records @ https://hag-noise.bandcamp.com/album/fear-of-man

https://www.facebook.com/HAG.LONDON   http://hagband.com/

Pete RingMaster 07/01/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Sofy Major – Waste

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After the merciless conditions which opposed the band when recording their acclaimed second album Idolize, including hurricane, flooding, loss of equipment for the band and the studio they were recording at, we assume the recording of its successor was an easier time for French rockers Sofy Major in comparison. What we can be certain of is that the time since the 2013 release and the unveiling of Waste has seen the band grow in presence and sound to hit another lofty peak with their new proposition. Waste is a glorious slab of rock ‘n’ roll; a storming proposal retaining the raw energy and uncompromising snarl of previous releases but also revealing a more melodic and composed touch to the wonderful volatility that persistently sets the Sofy Major sound as something to get excited over. Also as the last album, the Clermont-Ferrand trio has offered another essential slab of rock adventure to devour greedily, a temptation hard to see many refusing.

Produced by Dave Curran (Unsane, Pigs, Big Business), mixed by Andrew Schneider (Pigs, Julie Christmas, Unsane), and mastered by Carl Saff, Waste opens with its title track and an instantly intimidating and magnetic growl of noise and punk rock driven by heavy rock grooves and grizzly bass riffs. The vocals of bassist Mathieu Moulin roar with intensity yet equally an inviting tone, luring attention as a host of spicy grooves and tempting hooks add matching appeal within the increasingly carnivorous maelstrom of energy brewing across the track. It is a gripping and potent start to the release backed up in kind by We See Fire and a quickly emerging big hook of a slim but irresistible chorus. Twisting and turning with each breath, the song captivates like a fusion of The Great Sabatini, The Fat Dukes Of Fuck, and UK band The St Pierre Snake Invasion, great vocals from Moulin and drummer Mathieu Desternes around the increasingly enthralling guitar enterprise of Sébastien Fournet enslaving ears and imagination.

sofy_major_cover_RingMaster Review   Turning Point is just as adept and creative at raising the passions, its irritable bass bait inescapable addictiveness matched in success by the swinging gait of the song and its casting of contagious and psyche infesting grooves. There is a familiarity to this and the songs before it, but of Sofy Major only and taken to richer and more virulent levels, proof again coming with the bearish textures and roar of Slow Everywhere, it a bruising captivation as sonically antagonistic as it is roguishly captivating with the bass especially fiendish in its grumbling tone.

Variety is another returning aspect to the Sofy Major songwriting and ingenuity, the classic rock hook of Infinite Pill Case a wrong-footing tease from which the song tenaciously explores a weave of rhythmic agitation and guitar bred imagination impressively led by the ever alluring vocal delivery of Moulin. With unpredictability another constant throughout the rock ‘n’ roll bellow of the album, the song has body and emotions quickly involved, leaving an exhausted and full appetite in its wake for Black and Table to keep thoroughly satisfied through its slower wrapping of ears with sinister intent and stalking magnetism.

An essence of post punk flavours Iron Butt next, a spicing lacing the web spun by Fournet’s fingers whilst Devotion Man brings a more grungy essence to its enticing brew of noise and punkish confrontation. Both tracks get the blood racing in different ways as they inflame the air, the first with a more urgent tempest and its successor through a controlled yet predatory canter which uses every breath to create an infectious coaxing.

The album concludes with an excellent cover of the Les Thugs song As Happy As, Sofy Major taking the track to darker and again more post punk depths whilst increasing its virulence. Rarely does a cover match an original but the closing song on Waste is more than a thrilling match for its inspiration.

Fair to say a soft spot for Sofy Major through their previous albums, Idolise especially, has become much more lustful thanks to Waste. Rock ‘n’ roll does not get much more carnivorously attractive and exhilarating than this so get those ears and pennies ready

Waste will be released via Solar Flare Records on October 30th on 12″ vinyl, CD, and digitally. Preordering available @ http://shop.solarflarerds.com/categories/pre-orders

Pigs/Sofy Major European Tour Dates:

15.10.15 : London @ Power Lunches

16.10.15 : Paris @ Le Picolo

17.10.15 : Liège @ La Zone

18.10.15 : Vesoul @ Café Français

21.10.15 : Cologne @ Sonic Ballroom

22.10.15 : Lille @ La Péniche

23.10.15 : Rotterdam @ Poppodium Baroe

24.10.15 : Bruxelles @ Magasin 4

25.10.15 : Genève @ L’Usine

26.10.15 : Prague @ Exit Us

27.10.15 : Vienne @ Fluc

28.10.15 : Bologne @ Freakout Club

29.10.15 : Rome @ Init

30.10.15 : Savona@ Raindogs House

31.10.15 : Milan @ Lo Fi + Mutoid Man

04.11.15 : Montpellier @ Black Sheep

05.11.15 : Lyon @ Grrrd Zero

07.11.15 : Bergerac @ Gare Mondiale

09.11.15 : Clermont-Ferrand @ La Coopérative de Mai

10.11.15 : Bordeaux @ Iboat

11.11.15 : Toulouse @ Pavillons Sauvages

12.11.15 : Poitiers @ Grand Café

13.11.15 : Rouen @ Kalif

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

Pete RingMaster 13/10/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Snack Family – Pokie Eye EP

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It is not often you get a real tingle in the ‘loins’ as a band tempts the ears for the first time, but there is no doubting the lustful response UK rockers Snack Family inspired with their deliciously warped Pokie Eye EP. Casting a sound which could be described as gothic blues but fits better the description of The Birthday Party in its early days meeting Th’ Legendary Shack Shakers in a sultry and unhinged embrace with The Fat Dukes Of Fuck and Melvins, the release is a unique and rebellious slice of rock ‘n’ roll derangement and inescapably addictive.

Hailing from London and formed in 2011, the trio of Andrew Plummer (baritone guitar/ vocals), James Allsopp (saxophone/key), and Tom Greenhalgh (drums) swiftly and understandably drew references of Nick Cave, Captain Beefheart, and Morphine with their startling invention, as well as an eagerly growing attention. Debut release, the Belly EP lit new fires earlier this year which Pokie Eye inflames again with its own rich tonic of Southern bred creative dementia. Recorded with Ben Lamdin at Fish Market Studio, London and wrapped in the striking artwork of conceptual artist Drew Millward (Gallows, Pulled Apart By Horses, Oceanside), Pokie Eye is a wake-up call for the imagination, psyche, and sonic insanity.

Lupine Kiss is first, swinging in on groove infected keys and mischievous beats all lit by jazzy flames of brass. It is an immediate trap soon developing a hazy seduction and virulent toxicity as a thick tang infiltrates grooves and the highly evocative sax temptation. The song soon nudges thoughts of films like The Monster Club and From Dusk Till Dawn, it casting the imagination in a jazz fuelled, liquor soaked nightclub dwelt by the most salacious dangers and evil seductions possible. The song swerves tantalisingly with its melodic curves whilst the crispy high-hat sound is simply tantalising persuasion amidst the devilment of the rhythms. Leading it all like a devious bartender is the gruff crazily alluring tones of Plummer, his delivery as fascinating and irresistible as the creative loco around him.

The track is a riveting enslavement soon emulated in its own wholly distinct nature by Plastic Factory, a cover of the Captain Beefheart classic. Within seconds the song is strolling with sf_pokie_eye_frontbulging beats and flirtatious sax temptation but wrapped in a sinister and darkly enticing air, its fiery rock ‘n’ roll tempered by the prowling stance of the song and the heavy basslines courting the gravelly vocals. It is a blaze of aural salaciousness, especially from Allsopp’s sax which when really inflamed reminds big time of the kind of brilliant discord cloaked revelry Essential Logic conjured back in the seventies.

No Reason is a journey into the darkest and menacing corners of the mind and Snack Family’s invention, the song a slow swarming croon of a proposition embracing the heavy smoky Cash like tones of Plummer. It is stuff of your darkest dreams, a brilliant noir drenched, jazz bred smoulder of primal seducing and imagination. Keys resonate as indefinable sounds simply colour the drama, the track enthralling and immersive but most of all just brilliant, though it is soon surpassed by the closing revelry of Pokie Eye Poke Ya. The final song is psychotic manna, from the first flirtation of sax soon joined by a contagion of rhythms which in turn ignite a Cajun kissed jangle of strings and vocal rampancy, the track is simply sensational. Percussion and beats are as psychotic as the sounds dancing with lost inhibitions around them, a mix recalling again Th’ Legendary Shack Shakers but also Dutch band De Staat. It is rock ‘n’ roll devilment, a lunacy as controlled and resourceful as it is manic, and easily one of, if not the best song heard this year.

Pokie Eye is a must for all those with a taste for the references offered here or anything from blues rock, psychobilly…well simply rock ‘n’ roll of any slightly off kilter colour and ingenuity. Snack Family just might be our new favourite band and we suggest they may be yours too.

The Pokie Eye EP is available from December 6th via Limited Noise @ http://snackfamily.bandcamp.com/album/pokie-eye and through iTunes, Amazon, Spotify, etc.

http://snackfamily.co.uk

http://www.youtube.com/snackfamilymusic

RingMaster 05/12/2104

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Auxes – Boys In My Head

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Storming the psyche like a deranged bluster forged from the sonic invention of The Pixies and Melvins bound in the raw devilment of The Fat Dukes Of Fuck and the acidic charm of The Mai Shi, Boys In My Head is contagion gone wild. The new album from Germany based noise punks Auxes is a masterfully devious roar combining addiction with primal seduction for without any doubt one of the year’s most essential propositions.

The successor to their previously acclaimed More! More! More! of 2012, Boys In My Head sees the band take some of its raw punk persuasion and fuse it to a broader noise and psyche rock exploration. The result is their most compelling and spicily intrusive incitement yet, which as well as those earlier comparisons also sows essences found in band such as At The Drive In, The Birthday Party, and The Locust. Consisting of the combined experiences and adventure of Dave Laney (the co-founder of Milemarker and Challenger), Florian Brandel (Eniac, Kommando Sonne-nmilch, Airpeople) and Manuel Wirtz (Eniac, Honigbomber, Die Charts), Auxes fire up ears and emotions with swift drama and success as Boys In My Head entangles ears with opener To All The Fires. Song and release provide an infestation which is as fascinating as it is unpredictable, as anthemically warped as it is sonically scorching, and from their first notes inescapable slavery.

To All The Fires immediately encases ears in a web of weighty beats and sonic intrigue, a coaxing soon flourishing with feistily flavoursome melodic enterprise fuelling enslaving grooves and hooks. Vocals too have an alluring expression which subsequent harmonies only enhance as the song continues to flirt and dance with the imagination. The impressive start is straight away surpassed by I Can’t Stand You Any Longer, the song from its initial feisty rub of riffery and jabbing rhythms, a voracious stomp of virulently gripping hooks and tangy melodic intrigue. There is a grunge spice to certain aspects of the track but primarily it is a merger of garage and noise rock devilry sparking thoughts of Fake Shark-Real Zombie!

The following I Wanna See Results riles up the passions with its brief but ravenous temptation, a gnarly bassline relentlessly courting acidic guitar endeavour whilst increasingly impressing vocal causticity and just as hungrily agitated rhythms unleash their narratives. Far too brief but irrepressibly thrilling, the encounter makes way for the album’s title track, itself an epidemic of rhythmic bait and resourceful hooks within a sonic haze. Seemingly strongly inspired by The Pixies, the song is a delicious weave of sonic slavery, every groove and tangy chord easy thraldom of thoughts and passions.

The pair of Dog & Master and Life In Their Television increases the album’s grip, the first opening with a predatory rub of riffs and similarly commanding rhythms before striding purposefully with creative rabidity and bewitching enterprise. The track is a scintillating hex on body and emotions whilst its successor is an instant tease with its percussive coaxing and boys in their headmischievous beats. It is revelry though which cannot resist bursting into a punk fired tempest of abrasing guitar invention and vocal confrontation, all around a throaty bass spine. The track is a fiery charge soaked in punk belligerence, it again igniting fresh hunger in the appetite for the outstanding release; a greed right away fed wholesomely by the Frank Black spiced Boom Boom Town. Harmonies and melodies thrive in the sonic tapestry around them, drawing on an acidic wine of sound to brew their equally captivating toxicity.

Every song brings a fresh peak to Boys In My Head, though maybe none as insatiably as Under Fire. Its primal seduction of bass and drums is the foreplay to an orgasmic devilment of barbed hooks and intoxicating grooves, a dramatic infection where there is no second where feet are relaxed and emotions silent, though that to be fair applies to most tracks, especially the relatively calmer but no less transfixing Hand In Hand With The Man and the sultry rock ‘n’ roller Dead Dead Eyes. The first of the two sways and flames with siren-esque sonic candy which brings hints of eighties bands like The Fire Engines and Scars. The second of the pair again has that breeze of nostalgia, offering whispers of the Scottish bands as just mentioned and the likes of Josef K but infusing it into a punk bred slice of ferocious rock with infectious vocals and chorus eventually aligned to anthemic chants.

The album closes with the darkly shadowed I’ve Had Enough, a post punk coloured antagonism engaging ears with a noise and punk rock provocation, and another which is as much an epidemic of tempting as it is a blast of creative turbulence. The song is a brilliant end to quite simply one of the year’s biggest triumphs. There have been a few essential encounters in 2014 and Boys In My Head easily joins the list; in fact it might just be the one heading the queue.

Boys In My Head is available now via Gunner Records, digitally and as CD, vinyl, and cassette versions @ http://auxes.bandcamp.com/album/boys-in-my-head

http://auxes.com/

RingMaster 26/11/2014

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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

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Halfling’s Leaf – Westover

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After the irresistible bait put down by their excellent previous EPs, UK band Halfling’s Leaf has returned with not only a confirmation of their creative bedlam but a declaration of its new maturity and expansive schizophrenic ingenuity. The Stockport quartet has honed their distinctive and diversely imaginative sonic lunacy into a more concentrated yet no less boldly inventive proposition whilst turning up the aggressive rapaciousness which flirted with their earlier releases. The evidence is open and loud within Westover, the band’s new compelling and deliciously magnetic EP. Over six tracks, Halfling’s Leaf romp and stomp with propositions as ever impossible to pin down or label but fuelled with an even stronger inventive tenacity which sweeps greedily through their wide web of progressive avant garde punk ‘n’ funk devilry.

Formed in 2011, the foursome of vocalist Matt Franklin, guitarist/vocalist Mayo, bassist/vocalist Chid Seisay, and drummer/vocalist Andy Preece, soon grabbed attention with the Ain’t No Candy EP and gripped it tighter through the following High Times. Both EPs set the band apart from the rest, with especially the second release a potent lure to the media and radio shows like our own podcasts. The Daniel Buxton/ Halfling’s Leaf produced Westover is a whole new proposition though, a release which takes the seeds of the past and blossoms them into a startling and riotously captivating maelstrom of adventure and enterprise to surely push the band into a greater spotlight with that slice of fortune all bands need and here definitely deserves. Six more songs to fuel the imagination and incite the passions, Westover is a blistering warped dance to give insanity another shot of adrenaline.

Opener Sket launches itself at ears in a cacophony of bedlamic sound and vocal mayhem, instantly awakening senses and attention before a3462398769_2settling into a muscular stride with roving rhythms and sturdy riffs. That premise is immediately twisted with a sultry funk swagger within the forceful beats whilst vocals are equally steamy and fiery to match the metal and hard rock essences teasing the mix. The track continues to swerve and writhe with unpredictable endeavour before discovering a chorus which is pure toxic virulence. Essences of Mr Bungle and Red Hot Chili Peppers spice up the indefinable temptation but only to ensure thoughts are further away from finding a valid description to the sound and triumphant moment. A jazz bred psyche kissed diversion ignites the imagination next, before the bass restores some kind of order with its throaty composure, yet it is just the spark for even more delicious bewitchment as the band transforms into a mix of Oingo Boingo and the Cardiacs for a simply bewildering and seductive devilry. The track is a brilliant start but just the beginning of something quite special.

The following Faces immediately has its devil sculpted hips twisting like a dervish; the first maniacally flirtatious moments courted by jagged riffs and vocal stabs within agitated beats. The song is soon slipping into something more comfortable, a noir lit smouldering glide of melodic shimmering and harmonic crooning which envelops and seduces the senses naughtily whilst in its background rhythms and insanity collude in a caustic tango of predacious tenacity. Like a bastard son of Melvins and The Fat Dukes Of Fuck, the moment seizes feet and passions like a maniacal puppeteer, leading body and heart into another raucous exploit to scare the bland and ignite the deranged.

Smiler reunites thoughts with hints of Rage Against The Machine, which marked the last release, and also a bluesy heat which sears the senses with an absorbing stoner-esque flame within a cage of rhythmic intrigue. The track is more straight forward than its predecessors, but still hold a thick air of unpredictable mischief and contagious tempting which again has feet and thoughts dancing to its tune. It shows yet another side and quality to the band, a sinew honed might which is a challenge for any heavy rock band but equipped with a psyche spawned invention to wrong foot and spark true originality.

An unhinged relish soaks the next up Stop the Clock, the track a busy frenetic web of At The Drive In like abrasion and Fall Of Troy sounding squalling charm but filtered into an incendiary furnace of Halfling’s Leaf uniqueness and rhythmic examination. The bass nags and snarls away across the smouldering fire of sound relentlessly to light up another lustful reaction but it is the loco lure of the guitar and vocals which leaves the spiciest irresistible suasion before the glorious aural stew makes way for the similarly feverish Fair Play. The band is back in full warped funk mode here but of course with flames of melodic voraciousness and disorientated rhythms shooting from the punk infested core. Again it is hard to avoid sending hints of RATM to thoughts but also impossible to disguise the unique experimental hysteria which skilfully entwines and excitingly perverts things with unhinged majesty.

The release is completed by the exotically delirious Party Piece, a squirming orgy of sonic salaciousness and rhythmic taunting ridden by uncontrollable invention and a vocal bustle. It is one final chaotic rampage which shows more scenic detours and alluring landscapes than a mystery tour. A riveting joy to end another wonderfully unsettling and mouthwatering masterpiece from Halfling’s Leaf, it confirms why Westover belongs to the devil as well as providing the frightening realisation that as staggering as it is this band can only get better meaning our souls are certainly lost to their alchemy.

Westover is available now @ http://halflingsleaf.bandcamp.com/album/westover

https://www.facebook.com/halflingsleaf

10/10

RingMaster 25/06/2014

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