Mean Motor Scooter – Mr Sophistication

Photo by Greg Gutbezahl

As a viral infestation continues to consume the world we suggest there is a second outbreak imminent this time in the delicious contagion of the insatiable sound that the Mr Sophistication EP unleashes. The record is the new offering from US outfit Mean Motor Scooter, a release which could be no more seductively sinful and soul enslaving than if the Devil had cast it whilst holidaying amongst the vixens upon Planet Venus.

Hailing from Fort Worth, Texas, Mean Motor Scooter has insistently lured attention and acclaim through the likes of their 2017 uncaged debut album, Hindu Flying Machine, and last year’s EP, TV Baby. Though new to the band, if we are honest, hindsight listening reveals exactly why they have gripped keen local and national support and a further deluge of listens to Mr Sophistication can declare that the quartet has bred their most essential moment yet with.

The band’s unique sound is distilled in a bedlamic liquor of garage rock and punk with surf and psych rock stilled froth. Its character lustfully springs belligerent mischief upon the ears as its exploits chop away at the senses whilst urging the body to dance. It is a proposition which swiftly and urgently infested our musical instincts and desires through EP opener Aristobrat.

Immediately Sammy Kidd’s guitar swings through air, its riffs a compelling cleaver to the senses quickly followed by his just as magnetic vocals and the equally gripping rhythmic antics of bassist Joe Tacke and drummer Jeffrey Friedman. With the temptress backing vocals of Rebekah Elizabeth escalating the temptation as she enterprisingly fingers keys, the song lustfully got under the skin in no time, breeding an even richer unshakeable contagion through its subsequent riot of a chorus. Like something akin to a meltdown between The Scaners, Escobar, Jay Reatard and The Vibrators but with attitude stamping down unmistakeable individuality, it is an addictive start for the EP and a dependency which only escalated thereon in.

The Void quickly fed our craving, its opening hook alone enough to have us twisted up in its bait before the song followed it up with vocal and rhythmic manipulation which bordered on pandemonium. Kidd again is the ringleader to the creative disorder, his words bitch slapping the world as Friedman’s beats pummel the senses with unscrupulous dexterity. With punk and garage rock textures colluding with surf harmonies and frenzied melodies, this too is a song which had us in drooling fixation; Portals soon drawing further lust as it unveiled its surf rock breeding within a warped psych rock atmosphere. Luring and seducing with every breath, the track tangling the imagination up in its psychotic twists and increasingly volatile breath.

Zombie Cop is visceral pop within a cosmic soundscape bullied by punk rock tempestuousness and simply gripping from the first to last second of its exhausting two minute carnal stomp before leaving Put Me Down Like a Dog to spring a just as riveting finale on ears. A psychobilly riff chained the appetite first, its melodic clang instant manna to these ears and soon backed by a broken blister of lo-fi trespass; a feral captivation again infested by the seductive haunting of Elizabeth’s keys. That initial mutant groove continued to centrally vein the track, everything swinging from its incessantly hypnotic hold as the sonic maelstrom around it discharges just as irresistible slavery.

Untamed and ravenous, it is an energy sapping, pleasure igniting end to an EP even more voraciously intoxicating with every element and song united. The world is under siege again but this time only good if debilitating times are set to devour courtesy of Mean Motor Scooter.

Mr Sophistication is released May 1^st via Dreamylife Records: available @ https://meanmotorscootersounds.bandcamp.com/album/mr-sophistication

https://www.meanmotorscootertx.com/ https://www.facebook.com/meanmotorscootermusic https://twitter.com/MnMtrSctr

Pete RingMaster 02/05/2020

Weird Omen – Surrealistic Feast

Mar28

Simultaneously offering a haunting bordering on nightmarish temptation alongside a warm seductive tonic for the senses, the rock ‘n’ roll of French trio Weird Omen has always been a magnetic lure but within new album Surrealistic Feast reveals itself a sonically perceptual anomaly as it casts the listener adrift on a purgatory sea of addictive wonder. Try pinning the band’s sound down and you will flounder on the rocks of defeat but there is no missing its instinctive fascination and rousing prowess as proven within their new adventure of captivating strangeness.

Surrealistic Feast is the third full-length from the threesome of baritone saxophonist Fred Rollercoaster (King Khan and the Shrines, Bee Dee Kay and the Roller Coaster…), guitarist/vocalist Sister Ray (Ray and the Dead Drums…), and drummer/vocalist Remi Pablo (Escobar, Anomalys…) basking in a sound which has perpetually grown and boldly explored new realms by the record. It is a proposition as raw as it is radiant, a fusion of garage rock and punk with psych and neo psych tendencies amidst dark punk ‘n’ roll inclinations but a sound which still emerges outside of that broad decades embracing suggestion. Now within Surrealistic Feast it flourishes like never before, every song an individual collusion of flavours emerging pure and unique Weird Omen.

A Place I Want To Know starts things off, immediately the growly tone of Rollercoaster’s sax infesting ears and appetite from within cavernous surroundings. Swiftly the nagging beats of Pablo eagerly pester as too the predacious jangle of guitar from which a delicious melodic siren rises. The beauty of the track is sublime, its welcome harassment irresistible and fiery nature thrillingly rapacious; the outstanding opener a mix of raw aural tocsin magnificence and similarly alluring vocal persuasion.

The following Wild Honey makes just as much of a teasing and tempting start, beats a trigger to sonic hunger and the quickly blasting flames of addiction brewing sax. Whether returning to the Weird Omen sound or making Surrealistic Feast an introduction, the husky lure of its voice is unavoidable and persistent manna to these ears but just as powerfully matched as bait by the scything rhythms of Pablo and Ray’s melodically acidic and lustrous infestations as epitomised in the second track. Its rumble is open but controlled, underpinning the virulence swirling above and channelled into a vocal incitement impossible to leave alone.

Celestial heights are ventured once more through Please Kill Me, its prowling flight a sizzling wind of psych fuzz and sinister rock ‘n’ roll. At times it merges gothic psychobilly reminding of The Orson Family and the scorched punk of The Scaners to its compelling body, all the while niggling away at the imagination before Earworm uncages its own feral swing. Echoing the grungy wildness of Escobar in its breath, the track is a cyclone of salacious garage rock as punked up as it is melodically caustic and more than living up to its moniker.

The album’s title track is next, Surrealistic Feast a devious serenade cored by a rhythmic predation which controls the underbelly of mania eager to share its psychosis. The dual vocal incitement of Ray and Pablo circumvents skin effortlessly as beats hold limbs subservient, greed and imagination instantly enthralled and ever lustful through the rasping quirts of sax. The track is pure devilment, demonic sound at its most improper.

The sixties garage rock lined Collection Of Regrets brings its own individual temptations quickly after, its mellow hunting pop catchiness aligned to earthy untamed boisterousness while successor, The Goat, swings in with an old school rock ‘n’ roll and blues nurtured swagger; a hungry strut interrupted by punk brewed ferity from time to time with every corruption leaving greater creative savagery. Both tracks had us bouncing in various states of pleasure as too did the dirt encrusted pop ‘n’ roll of Trouble In My Head, a track resembling something akin to The 13th Floor Elevators immersed in the organic infectiousness of Thee Exciters and the untamed aberrance of The Mummies.

The composed yet twisted stomp of Out Of My Brain had attention locked within seconds of its hypnotic stroll, only gripping tighter as its aggression and mania escalated before leaving album closer, I Will Write You Poetry to pick up the pieces which it does with ease with its trash coated melodic croon.

Weird Omen can pretty much be trusted to constantly provide an unpredictable escape and adventure which arouses, disturbs, and leads the listener to realms of sonic curiosity and inimitable temptation; this time it comes in one glorious escapade going by the name of Surrealistic Feast.

Surrealistic Feast is out now via Dirty Water Records; available @ https://weirdomen.bandcamp.com/album/surrealistic-feast and https://www.dirtywaterrecords.co.uk/shop/#!/Weird-Omen/c/32921273/offset=0&sort=normal

https://www.facebook.com/weirdomentheband/

Pete RingMaster 28/03/2019

The Scaners – II

Mar18

It is hard to believe that it has been over a year since the debut album from French cosmic punks The Scaners was unleashed; feeling like it was just yesterday mainly we guess because since its release it has barely taken more than a deep breath away from our speaks here at The RR. It was one of the major infestations of 2018 and is about to be joined by this year’s matching virus in the shape of the bands succinctly titled second full-length, II.

As with the first release, we are on board the intergalactic vessel Scaner with the Lyon based band, careering from planet to star, from stratospheric mystery to extra-terrestrial house party amidst a soundtrack bred on sonic hooks and scuzz punk antics. In many ways it is more of the same of that which made the first album so irresistible but within a few breaths there is no escaping a fresh wind of flavour, imagination, and creative devilment at play within the mischievously virulent II.

Recorded as the first full-length with Lo Spider and mastered by Jim Diamond the new adventurer in space instantly had the body bouncing and vocal chords hollering as first track, Please Abduct Me opened up its thrusters and declared its plea. Its first breath brings an eager surge of guitar amidst the swirling breeze of keys, boisterous rhythms in close company as the track flies through ears. The vocals of organist Pav are just as magnetic, backed by the equally tempting tones of the rest of the band. A slice of incorrigible power pop fuelled garage punk the track is superb, straight away putting album and listener in the keen frame of mind to go galaxy stomping.

Catch Up With A UFO follows, launching on a delicious rhythmic incitement from drummer BX which quickly leads to an adrenaline soaked stomp shaped by the guitar of DD and temptingly coloured by the dark shadows of Tama’s bass and the ever persuasive vocals of Pav and co. Navigating its flight through swinging gravitational debris, delinquent twists and turns further equip the inescapable greed casting bait of the song before the album lands at Random City 2099. A fuzzy slab of garage rock nurtured synth punk, the song is a magnetic shimmer of theremin and organ nurtured seduction across jangling guitar and rapacious beats and far too easy to devour to be good for one.

There was no running for cover as Mars Attacks descended on ears next, its aggressive bubblegum animation as feral as it is predatory with a Ramones meets Phenomenauts teasing sweeping the conflict while within the gamma ray hued Space X-Ploration, escape is a controlled but inexorable release of hips and greed within the song’s lunar contamination.

Through the sonic trajectory of Galactic Race the body became even more of a puppet to the band’s devious strings, so much so that an instinctive bounce did not relax even as it drifted off into the distance though that was as much down to the synth pop ‘n’ roll virulence of the following X-Ray Glasses as the teasing wake of its predecessor.

Then as Spin Like A Record brought an already breathless body to the boil with its insatiably anthemic punk ‘n’ roll clamour and Don’t Run, We’re Your Friends had it leaping around like a whirling dervish on hi-octane radiation, lust exploded from every pore. Fair to say The Scaners was already a band we had bred ardour for but by this point it was bordering on the illicit and only intensified by the ear stalking almost primal threat of No Panic, No Stress and the communicable untamed catchiness of the glorious Pesticide Kids, both infiltrated by pestering hooks and scuzz dusted melodic temptation.

Completed by the event horizon that is Run DD Run, its gravitational pull a trap few would wish to escape or not give up inhibitions for. A final pandemic of the band’s unique infective rock ‘n’ roll; it is a blistering and thrilling end to a quite sensational album.

Ok we were already on the biased side going into The Scaners sophomore album but still not prepared for its extragalactic invasion. If there is life out there and it resembles The Scaners we are in!!

II is released 29th March via Dirty Water Records with pre-ordering available now @ https://thescaners.bandcamp.com/album/the-scaners-ii

Upcoming live dates include…

Mar 29 Meteoro, Barcelona, Spain

Mar 30 Fun House, Madrid, Spain

Apr 20 Attica Club, Ponferrada, Spain

May 31 Le Nadir / Friche Culturelle De L’antre-peaux, Bourges, France

https://www.facebook.com/thescaners/

Pete RingMaster 15/03/2019

Warish – Self Titled EP

Feb15

Like a crawling yet animated pestilence, comes a sound and aural ruin which infests the senses like a carnivorous scourge; a sonic trespass which within the debut release from US outfit Warish rises up as one highly fascinating and seriously enticing affair.

Formed by guitarist/vocalist Riley Hawk and drummer Bruce McDonnell, the 2018 emerging SoCal based band has seen a bit of a buzz brewing around it and it is easy to hear why across the five tracks making up the first Warish EP. It is a ravenously malignant and carnally caliginous invasion as visceral as it is fearsomely compelling; a raw gripping trespass bred from a fusion of raw horror punk, sludge infested grunge and feral noise punk.

The EP took a mere breath to assault and stir ears and appetite through opener Bones, its initial riff struck bait the first thick lure in a voracious tide of punk ‘n’ roll. The effect tampered vocals only add to the already persuasive hell spawned temptation immersing track and listener, the threat and nag of rhythms escalating the insurgent swing and sonic infestation of the song’s slavery. Akin to a feral mix of The Scaners and The Hangmen in league with The Horrors and Misfits both in their formative years, the track effortlessly enslaved as too its successor which rises up from the sonic bridge between the two.

Riding in on a manipulative tide of rhythms, Voices quickly took control with its untamed groove and concussive attack easily sparking another round of lust with its inhuman exploits before Fight brings its own magnetic personality to proceedings. There is a mutual bedevilment and nightmare to the first pair of tracks even in their individuality but their successor reveals a whole fresh aspect to the Warish sound and adventure with melodic and psych rock imagination. It still has the punk and metal nurtured hues but entangled in a broader flavouring of styles and twisted enterprise.

The final pair of Human Being and Shivers similarly adds their own particular differences; the first seemingly fed on the riffs of Black Sabbath and the second seeded in old school punk subsequently soaked in the hellacious corrosiveness of stoner rock, heavy metal, and surf punk. Neither quite exploited the passions as the first trio of tracks but both easily escalated the lure and enjoyment of the debut Warish EP; and joined all in inspiring a hunger for plenty more from the rather exciting, potential strapped band.

The Warish EP is out now on 7” vinyl and download through RidingEasy; available @ https://www.ridingeasyrecs.com/product/warish-7/ and https://warish.bandcamp.com/releases

https://www.facebook.com/Warishband/

Pete RingMaster 12/02/2019

The Scaners – Self Titled

Feb28

Create a sonic kaleidoscope made up of particles from The Ramones, Devo, The Dickies, and The Screamers with essences of others such as Brainiac, Useless Eaters, and Acid Baby Jesus and you get the glorious garage synth punk sound fuelling a release which surely will be announced one of the year’s best moments come its annual awards. The cause of such thoughts is the self-titled debut album from French punksters The Scaners which despite those references at the beginning, or because of them, is one unique and quickly addictive incitement of sound and mischief.

Hailing from Lyon, The Scaners proudly and openly embrace their inspirations in their music; influences which from their label, Dirty Water Records, to reviewers and fans are universally recognised within something as individual as you could wish for. A four track 7” hinted at and teased ears with its inimitable antics last year, lures and revelry now in full roar and enterprise within the band’s first full-length.

Recorded with Lo Spider at Swampland in Toulouse, the album sets off on its sci-fi fuelled flight of fun with opener Abduction. Like a dance party in Area 51, the song swings its rhythmic hips to its own sonic infestation of devilry, vocalist Pav Scaner vocally hot-footing across the strands of temptation like a dervish as the keys of his organ dance. Hooks fly as beats bounce, seventies punk flirting with its synth punk/garage rock tenacity as ears and appetite are instantly baited and trapped.

The cosmos wraps the imagination next as Spacecraft lifts off with a punk rumble; bassist Tama Scaner and drummer BX Scaner rousingly fuelling its brief but irresistible surge before I Don’t Want To Go swaggers in on addictive beats and vocal dissonance. Pav’s keys again entice like sonic liquor as his voice wonderfully trespasses the shuffle; a riveting incitement matched and escalated by the spatial theremin gas and raw guitar prowess of Dédé Scaner. As the first, both tracks simply infest the imagination, getting under the skin like an infernal but exciting itch which you want to scratch but never lose.

Checkpoint Planet is a slightly calmer waltz which just as easily has the hips swinging and appetite devouring with its virulent infectiousness. As throughout the album, Pav’s lead vocal explorations are just as magnetically supported by the rest of the band’s throats, though it is the animated throb of Tama’s bass which steals the biggest portion of the passions before The Dries bursts in on a The Dickies bred lure to uncage its own voracious stomp. A fusion of sixties, seventies and current punk ‘n’ roll, the song is simply irresistible; manna to the devil in us all.

Darker and heavier textures line the B52’s hued aeronautics of Enjoy Your Flight; a trespassing bounce of a track which masters limbs and spirit like a cosmic puppeteer while No Place In Space steals best track honours with its post punk/garage punk saunter with a healthy essence of The Horrors to its reined but open diablerie. The first single from the album, the band apparently has two versions of the song; this the “slow” shadow accompanied drift through space; we cannot wait to hear the fast flight.

The pop virulence of the following We Want To Talk To Your Leader has the body romping within a breath or two, its new wave flaunt of sound and enterprise pure addiction which teases with nods to The Ramones; flavouring simply grabbed full-on by Video Tape next with again simply contagious results. Both tracks, though to be honest as all songs, leave the body breathless and greedy for more, a hunger quickly fed with great relish by the irritable sonic escapade of Flying Fuck and the flirtatious parade of Modern Fissure. The first is a furious surge of boisterous sound and brazen seduction and its successor a calmer but no less instinctively raw and rapacious slice of synth pop and both quite delicious to the ears.

The album ends with Levitation Train 2077, a swirling maelstrom of electronic punk as controlled as it is feral creating one glorious finale. All bands should have a theme tune to our thoughts, something recognisable and addictive announcing their arrival, like all the best TV shows, and this is undoubtedly the one for The Scaners.

Everything about the album was liquor to our intoxication and as the introduction of The Scaners to our ears, the spark to a lusty following hereon in; there is the feeling we will not be alone.

The Scaners album is out now via Dirty Water Records, Dirty Water Records USA, Adrenalin Fix Music, Casbah Records, Dangerhouse Skylab, Teenage Hate Records, Strycknine Recordz, and Trokson Records and available at https://www.dirtywaterrecords.co.uk/shop/#!/The-Scaners/c/27034946/offset=0&sort=normal and https://thescaners.bandcamp.com/