The Creeping Ivies – The Witch House EP

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.

   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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

RingMaster 02/05/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Listen to the best independent music and artists on The RingMaster Review Radio Show and The Bone Orchard on Reputation Radio @ http://www.reputationradio.net

Venus de Vilo – Handle With Scare Pt 1

Horror’s temptress of the night returns with the first part of her debut album Handle With Scare, and from the six tracks it is fair to say that Venus de Vilo has lost none of her seductive revelry and demonic enticements, in fact only increased their potency along with her musical toxicity. With macabre bred passion and tales aligned to an equally dark acoustic temptation, the first teasing of the album has just bout turned an already eager soft spot for her sounds into a stalker-esque compulsion.

Venus first drew blood and attention with the siren call of her previous Edgar Allan Ho EP, a collection of songs which lingered far beyond their intent to become a fixture on the playlist of fans and underground attention, including our own podcast. The Dublin born songstress of the dead has turned the graveyard into her canvas for sonic bloodlust and sinisterly melodic adventure since 2011, proceeding to find a growing legion of fans through her performances across the city’s rock/metal bars, Burlesque and Cabaret nights, and open mic nights. Her presence has subsequently seeped further afield which the Edgar Allan Ho EP only concentrated with its devilish charm and sounds.

Pleasingly Venus has not taken a detour from her individual sound and songwriting which so potently lit up her last release, instead honing it into an even more precise and sirenesque proposition as evidenced by the new songs, starting with I’ve Got 99 Zombies And A Witch Ain’t One. Venus immediately cups ear in her potent voice to open up the song, a Wanda Jackson like depth and potency an immediate hook to which her guitar stabs lend extra drama. Though just voice and guitar, the track is instantly anthemic, swiftly lighting the imagination and sparking cinematic ventures as lady and music unveil the heart of the narrative. Twists in the vocal delivery and guitar stroll beneath haunting harmonies only add to the great melodrama caressing thoughts and emotions, an invitation which feet and voice are unable to resist.

The following Absinthe Makes The Heart Grow Fonder is just as enthralling and compelling, harmonies a delicious croon around the infectious Imelda May like bait of the song primed by Venus and her stringed enticement. Once again a full engagement with the listener is an inevitable rapid success, imagination given further inducement to explore personal shadows and gothic climates. As this and other songs lay ravenously on the psyche, there is a feel of a new confidence and precise intent working away in the heart of the tracks subsequently providing a richer clarity and persuasive tenacity than found in the previous release.

Both Bubbleglum! and Dead! Dead! Dead! keep mortuaries and ears basking in dark vaudeville temptation, the first an incessantly striding tango of stabbing riffs and ghostly harmonies around bewitching vocal predation whilst its successor decides to stalk thoughts before similarly swiping at the senses with feisty chords and Lilith incarnate vocals. Both tracks dance with wicked intent and salacious suasion, enslaving the imagination with vocal hooks within a simple but virulent stroking of guitar.

The Dead Don’t Dance slips into something even more darkly comfortable, a psychobilly whisper flirting with the theatrical colour of the menacing as harmonies shape a thick fog of expression. It is a song which takes a little longer to wrap its shadow spawned tendrils around the passions but eventually does so with unbridled success to emerge as one of the most inventive and dramatically powerful track of the sextet.

Final song Personal Satan swings with sixties embrace in its addictive tempting, essences of Shangri-Las and in some ways the Walker Brothers permeating the mouthwatering graveside balladry. It is a riveting end to a thrilling introduction to Handle With Scare.

With the album’s second half looking to be unveiled later this year anticipation for its full uncaging has gone up in impatience and excitement thanks to this teasing, and if the likes of Horrorpops, The Revillos, Imelda May, and fifties female rock ‘n’ roll instigators is a very palatable attraction for you then Venus de Vilo is a venomous treat just waiting to inflame and devour your lives.

Check out Handle With Scare Pt 1 @https://soundcloud.com/venus-devilo/sets/handle-with-scare

https://www.facebook.com/VenusDeViloSongsFromTheStalkersPointOfView

9/10

RingMaster 18/06/2014

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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Mr. Strange – The Wonderful World Of Weird

Just to prove that insanity can be the sweetest potent seduction The Wonderful World Of Weird is here to exploit and uncover the darkest secrets of your mind whilst travelling the exotic and dangerous mental halls of its creator Mr. Strange. The former frontman of the UK’s greatest still to be truly discovered musical mutants The Shanklin Freak Show, though he is still healthily involved in the band, Mr. Strange voraciously stalks the senses and emotions with his fourth album. It is a release which soundtracks a bedlam of sound and adventure from a quite maniacal imagination.

The Isle Of Wight hailing songwriter/producer/vocalist/musician began his musical exploration as ‘The Mad DJ’ in 1998 before emerging as Mr. Strange in 2006. He founded circus rock/steampunk band The Shanklin Freak Show in 2003, guiding the band as songwriter and vocalist up until starting an extended break from performing live at the end of 2011. Alongside The Shanklin Freak Show albums including Act II – The Light Fantastic of 2009 and Welcome To The Show of 2011, a few other projects, and producing a couple of albums by Global Citizen, Mr. Strange unleashed his solo musical rapaciousness. Sounds From The Asylum came first to be followed in 2011 by the releases of The Fall and Freakshow, the last a 38 track retrospective album chronicling the songs that he wrote under the Shanklin Freak Show name  which included new, unreleased, and re-recorded or re-mixed tracks. Now the sanity puppeteer steps forward again with the magnificent temptation of The Wonderful World Of Weird, the finest Mr. Strange musical and mental examination yet.

With more flavours than a giant box of Jelly Bellies, the album is a dramatic and exhilarating flight through the darkest yet magnetically and vibrantly compelling mind of the fictional character of its creator, employing everything and anything from industrial and steampunk to gothic rock and progressive metal, and that is just scratching the surface. With many of the tracks co-written with Gary ‘Stench’ Mason, The Shanklin Freak Show guitarist and provider of the majority of the guitar invention across the release, the album immediately lures in senses and imagination with the opening spoken narrative leading in the title track. It instantly intrigues as the scene setting premise strolls into the irresistible stomp of the song. Rhythms bounce around with a heavy mischievous gait matched by the electro and bass taunting whilst the guitar casts lines of sonic and melodic bait which is pure infectious toxicity. Best described as Dr. Jekyll meets ICP as early Marilyn Mansion helps Victor Frankenstein create aural life for them to toy with upon a set designed by Willy Wonka, the track is a delicious fascination and the first irresistible hint of the lunacy to come.

Creating the World is an expansion to the landscape previously crafted with a gentle psychedelic ambience washing the dawning scenery. It is a mesmeric, almost meditative soaring of harmonies and guitar elegance with rubs of dub and scratching teasing the riveting flight. The seducing continues right up to the doorway into the Psycho Surfing-A-Go-Go, one of the major pinnacles upon the album. Again as between numerous songs, the narrator lays down an invitation before the surf rock contagion drops its shoulders and swerves through the ear with irrepressible virulence. The grooves enslave the passions within seconds whilst the rhythmic dance only builds a cage for rapture to breed within as fire kissed keys add smouldering lures to the hot and epidemically addictive romp of sonic lava. The song is one of the best heard anywhere this year; a beach party in the mind of Hunter S. Thompson hosted by The Cramps and The Bomboras with Two Wounded Birds, B52s, and The Revillos adding extra entertainment.

From the dark sinister realm of The World’s Dark Heart, Mr. Strange lurks in the steampunk/industrial graced world of Metropolis 2984, a track which equally extends some classic metal and psyche sculpted imagination to its captivating persuasion. There is a swing and energy to the track which infects feet and emotions but equally an underlying dark tone beneath the celestially soaring harmonies which suggest more 1984 than Fritz Lang. Again the album and artist has the listener in a tight grip of pleasure and suasion, though it never slipped from the first breath of the album to be fair, which tightens with firstly Clockwork Man and explodes through Fire. The first of the two stalks the ears with the drama and theatre of a Tim Burton vision sculpted by the melodic ingenuity of Danny Elfman, though it has to be noted that every song despite the references sound like no one but Mr. Strange. This masterful manipulation of the senses and passions is soon left in the shade by its successor, the track another major peak in nothing but highs. The song is the closest to a Shanklin Freak Show tune that the album gets, its sexy tango pulsating mouth-watering foreplay for the beats and funk bred keys to add intoxicating spice to. There is something familiar to the hooks and stomp of the song aside from the earlier comparison, but it is indefinable and wholly galvanic.

Through the noir shadows of Don’t Stay (Where the Dead Ones Lay) with its jazz smooching funk lined temptation and the excellent gothic majesty of White Rabbit, the song reminding of The Damned at times, The Wonderful World Of Weird intensifies its resistance free toxin whilst the electro swing heart of Exile and the psychedelia soaked gothic tempting of Anti-Christ only spark further flames of lustful submission to the call of the release and its psychotic beauty. Every song is a wanton temptress in whatever guise and sonic clothing they frequent, and though admittedly hopes and expectations were of big things from Mr. Strange on past successes, the album left those assumptions insultingly short of the brilliant reality.

Completed by the classically crafted Journeys End, an enchanting epilogue if not to the levels of what came before, The Wonderful World Of Weird is pure certifiable aural manna. The CD version also has a track exclusive to its version, a very enjoyable cover of the Dr. Steel track We Decide. The able shows that there is only one Mr. Strange and his form of weird, one you can charter a sensational cruise through via our favourite album of the year, The Wonderful World Of Weird, that is if you are brave or eccentric enough.

http://www.mrstrangemedia.com/

10/10

RingMaster 28/11/2013

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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The Felines – Daddy Walk

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

https://www.facebook.com/thefelines

RingMaster 29/07/2012

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Thee Gravemen – Thee Gravemen

 

You cannot get much more simple a set up than offered by trash rock ‘n’ roll band Thee Gravemen or anything as incessantly infectious. Consisting of just a senses cruising guitar and insistent primal beats the duo from the UK, now Malmo, Sweden based, with their self titled album have created a release that knows its sound, loves its sound and is determined you will too.

Thee Gravemen were formed in the autumn months of 2009 by guitarist and vocalist Sir Lee Tea and drummer Devilish Daz Trash, who initially were just doing a one off gig as a duo. Luckily they decided to continue though it was through the lack of finding a suitable stand up bass player as much as anything that tipped the decision to remain a twosome. Behind them the musicians have a good pedigree with Tea having been part of the garage rock band Thee Exciters as well as currently part of Swedish r&b band The Branded, and Trash having been part of UK psychobilly/punk band Skitzo, under the name of Strut. As Thee Gravemen the pair have unleashed a raw and uncomplicated fusion of garage punk, psychobilly and coarse surf veined fuzzed up rock ‘n’ roll, a dirty and boisterous sound that sears the flesh and resonates within the bones.

As can be imagined the songs come from the darkest shadows of the two, the lyrics borne from horror movies, wicked intent and from beneath disturbed ground. The album grabs with an icy clawed grip from the opening ‘Hey There Pretty Baby’ to squeeze and tease, resisting the urge to let go right until the last lingering note of the album passes on. The opening track is relatively subdued compared to what follows throughout the rest of the album but it is immediately noticeable that the production though unfussy and pretty straight forward gives a rich generally full sound, in a way surprising considering the scarcity of instruments.

The album buzzes and crawls over the senses through track after track and though the core of the music is a set spine each song comes from different and enticing angles. ‘Come On’ is a slightly darker track than the opener and reminds of 80’s band The Orson Family whilst the instinctive rhythm led ‘Digging Graves’ has a scuzzed up garage energy that recalls their former bands in many ways.

There is not a weak track on the album; each having their own heart of siren like appeal though it is the beat and rhythm led tracks that make the strongest connection. The pulse beat stomp of ‘Friday At The Hideout’ and the voodoo raw primal rhythms of ‘My Girlfriend Is A Werewolf’, both with a Guana Batz meets Screaming Jay Hawkins like vibe lift the excitement higher but it is when the band go into the realms of The Cramps that they really stand out. ‘My Witch’ is glorious with its distinct twang as distinctly manipulative as the song’s character and ‘Six Feet Down’ alongside the outstanding ‘Shake It’ rip through the ear with primitive ease. The band’s cover of ‘Green Fuzz’ is equally excellent; a very valiant version of The Cramps’ version that easily exceeds the Randy Alvey & Green Fuz original.

Complete with another cover in the hypnotic shape of the Sandy Nelson song ‘Let There Be Drums’ and the immensely fun outro track with after a moments breath ends with a track that sounds like a fictional nightmare when Demented Are Go’s Sparky popped his cherry with Eugene Reynolds of The Revillos, the album is simply fantastic. Released on Dirty Water Records it makes no demands or offers any unnecessary frills but just feeds the soul with inspiring, mischievous and thoroughly essential rock ‘n’ roll.

RingMaster 11/02/2012

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