UK punksters Dirt Box Disco have this enviable knack of unleashing something inescapably fresh with every record whilst retaining a trademark sound which makes the band one of punk’s most individual propositions. It is a success which is not only repeated with their new album but escalated for their finest moment to date.
Immortals is the sixth studio album from the Midlands hailing quintet and comes with more twists and turns than a swatter hunted fly in a cream cake shop. From song to song it romps with various shades in the spectrum of punk and rock ‘n’ roll; pop, old school, hardcore, and many more voracious hues embraced and given the DBD creative deviancy. It has proven near to impossible to settle on our favourite thirty DBD songs to date let alone choose a top ten but right now you can expect plenty from Immortals to feature in both.
Album opener Ready Or Not is a declaration of their return, though their ravenous live hunger ensures they are never far from a town near you and that they have more of the goodness and madness which has made the band one of punk’s essentials. It’s opening rally of beats and string of la-la-las signal prime DBD is here and eager to get us all bouncing and roaring. Manipulative catchiness has always been swift enslavement in the band’s sound and simply virulent within the first throes of the first song. The rousing incitement of vocalist WEAB.I.AM quickly works its persuasion, its ‘lock up your daughters ‘n’ hide the loot’ message a warning and promise of their insatiable sound and intent.
Its irresistible punk ‘n’ roll is followed by the just as ravenous pop punk lusting of Teenage Lovestruck Blues; a wonderful confusion of sixties, seventies, and modern punk and power pop honed into one swinging stomp ripe with riffs and hooks uncaged by Spunk Volcano and Danny Fingerz in collusion with a tangle of vocals and harmonies. As its predecessor, it unerringly hit the spot as too the melodic seducing of You’re The Only One For Me. It opens with the nervousness of a first date before hitting a confident stroll with the beats of Maff Fazzo the pump to its instinctive excitement of song and romance. Deadbeat Chris’ growling bass is a perfect contrast to the infectious double prong vocal lure, the song sharing gentle incitement fuelled caresses to stir eager involvement from those around and indeed listening.
A whiff of old school lines next up Caveman.com, the excellent feral stomp something akin to The Vibrators meets Turbonegro but distinctly DBD while Stop Shouting similarly taps into seventies punk for its core hook and riffery, draping it in the band’s inimitable anthemic rock ‘n’ roll instincts. Only the deaf could evade its physical and persuasive holler though even Fazzo’s incisive rhythms could probably stir their senses. Both tracks get body and spirit bouncing though maybe not as hungrily as 11th May or the following Mummy’s Boy. The first jabs and harries with beats and riffs, vocals commanding participation as the body throws itself around to the sounds while its successor flies through ears with seventies punk ferocity and DIY aggression to stir even greater involvement.
Done & Dusted is the kind of arousal you might expect The Pirates to come up with if starting out now, their own style of punk and rock ‘n’ roll an echo past of the contagion DBD seemingly effortlessly conjure. Like so many tracks it steps in, lays an instant creative glove on ears and has the body dancing to its whims before leaving at its height of temptation.
Box Of Tapes mixes hard rock and metal with its punk heart, the track a raucous compulsion for ears and appetite before Mirror Mirror shares its reflective croon with energy and tenacity, again hooks spun recalling some of punk’s glory days but revelling in their creator’s own modern uniqueness.
Rock ‘n’ roll comes no more masterful and incendiary than in the riotous charge of Box Set Addict; its raw urgency and attack infused with one delicious bassline and riveting sonic enterprise. The track is superb but still eclipsed by the album’s finest moment, Joyce’s Voices. The initial lure of haunted guitar is a tease of the unpredictable from which melodic infection winds around ears as WEAB.I.AM introduces the spirit guesting world of Joyce. Everything about the song is captivation, rock music which has body, voice, and appetite wrapped around its inventive fingers whilst reminding of people we have all come across in presence or legend.
Immortals leaves as sonically vociferous and rowdy as it began with firstly Pint Kamikaze Jaeger Smash, a sing-a-long bruising and stomping, and lastly through the attitude hurling Shut The Fuckin’ Door. The pair just epitomise the adventure and addiction brewed by the album, the first a lung bursting incitement with its companion a middle finger raising riot woven from various thick threads of rock ‘n’ roll and both reasons alone why DBD are so revered and greedily followed.
With every release Dirt Box Disco evolve, uncaging something new each and every time yet they never deviate from their insatiable honest sound. It is a skill and craft which sets them apart, keeping fans deliriously stomping and the band at the head table of punk rock.
Immortals is released April 27th via STP Records with an Ltd Ed vinyl version released July 28th.
Pete RingMaster 30/03/2018
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