The Primals – All Love Is True Love

The outcome of a collision between the raw essences of crust lined garage punk and pop infused grunge accosted by noise baiting metal, All Love Is True Love is the fierce new album from LA based rockers The Primals. Though it bears hungry ferocity it is equally as infectious and catchy as it is invasive; it all making for one of the year’s most irresistible debuts.

The Primals is a trio made up of Darkest Hour vocalist/guitarist John Henry, former Dead To Fall member in bassist Chad Fjerstad, and drummer Andrew Black who previously was part of The Explosion, and Title Tracks. Exploits within those outfits has meant anticipation once The Primals’ first release was announced has been keen among a great many and we can say that though there have been a fair few introductions this year which have simply ignited attention and excitement with plaudits in close quarter, All Love Is True Love is ahead of most of the field.

Produced by John Reis (Rocket From The Crypt, Drive Like Jehu, Hot Snakes), All Love Is True Love immediately descends on ears with Hello Cruel World. Instantly a guitar gnaws on the senses, in turn triggering a caustic wave of noise as contagious as it is a visceral trespass. Even in its carnal insurgence there is an instant catchiness of pop sensibility which surges through the confrontation, vocals riding that temptation with a melodic snarl. Similarly soliciting is the predacious quality the band’s sound carries, one which permeates the whole album to compelling effect.

It is an outstanding rousing start as potently backed by the relatively gentler antics of Dead Predators. A web of noise fuelled clamour, earthy bass led swing, and sonic enterprise, the track quickly beguiles and tempts hips and imagination into an animated collusion before Another World To Call Your Own launches its own untamed will upon the listener. Across the three tracks alone there is no escaping a strong whiff of bands such as Nirvana and The Pixies, a breeze teasing throughout the release yet already there is a distinct character and presence which is all Primals as epitomised by their latest single which is next up.

Pity City saunters in on a rhythmic swing; flames of guitar crossing its lure as the melodic calm of vocals add infectious charm. The track simply becomes an insistent radiance spilling invitation where contrasting textures unite in imagination; a pop song in its rawest most accessible state before Fortune & Sons shares its punk ‘n’ roll animation with rapacious relish. It too has an inherent infectiousness which borders the viral and an equally belligerent breath which growls discontent as easily as it brews seduction.

Next up The Wayward Impaler is untamed pop rock which similarly melodically tempts as it shares sonic agitation while It’s Personal saunters in straight after with a heavy drawl and shadowed intentions before unveiling its own pop natured virulence within those persistent trespasses. Both tracks swiftly get under the skin, the latter especially laying a mighty hand on best track honours before Together Whatever has its say with its Sonics-esque, old school punk holler. Rhythms stomp and guitars abrase as the track incited body and the passion, another slice of quick addiction with a potent claim on the top dog title.

The album concludes with firstly the slow crawl of Save Me, Baby; a plaintively melancholic croon with rhythmic tempestuousness and lively pop rock animation, and through the rousing grunge punk ferocity of I’m Coming Home. The final track is pure threat and seduction, each in equal measure invading the senses in a “we are united, love you all and fuck the world” like declaration.

It is a stirring and tremendous finale to an album which has all the elements and deeds to re-invigorate already hungry or alternatively any stale appetites for rock music. It is a gem, simple as.

All Love Is True Love is out now via Southern Lord and available @ https://theprimalssl.bandcamp.com/releases

https://www.facebook.com/ThePrimalsLA

Pete RingMaster 24/09/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Likkor Men – There Will Be Blood

There is something primal stirring in the depths of the UK rock scene, a lascivious force brewing up filthy attitude stained rock ‘n’ roll which is salacious and destructive, rabid and addictive and it goes by the name of The Likkor Men. The quartet from Redcar has just released new EP There Will Be Blood, a carnal beast of a release infesting the psyche as sonically it tries to live up to its declaration, and a fear breeding proposition it is truly hard to get enough of.

Formed in 2014 supposedly to “keep the members out of trouble”, The Likkor Men create a ravenous sound which is hard to pin down but openly corrupts everything from blues, garage, and punk rock to industrial, noise, and psychedelia. Most likely an introduction of the band to a great many, There Will Be Blood is their second EP but easy to feel the moment The Likkor Men asylum comes under true scrutiny.

The release instantly has the senses challenged with the outstanding Black Widow, noise and samples colluding to tenderise before heavy footed riffs stroll hungrily in as swinging beats bite. Blues grooves entangle the trespass as vocals prowl, a punk throated backing adding to the pleasure as the controlled chaos twists and turns. There is something of The Birthday Party meets Th’ Legendary Shack Shakers as Down fingers the union about the infestation but equally more than a whiff of bands like The Sonics and MC5 in the swamp of sound and dirt though what emerges is a scuzz storm all Likkor Men.

The opener remains the pinnacle of the release but is seriously harassed throughout with next up Young Blood needing little time to seduce and pervert ears and imagination. Ravishing the senses like a defiled fusion of Rob Zombie, Arthur Brown, and The Stooges, the track is wired rock ‘n’ roll as off-kilter as it is skilfully woven to invade and trespass the psyche. Deceptively catchy it is aural loco, a ruinous psych rock invasion infecting the listener like radiation.

Crazed easily applies to Sweet Talkin’ Mamma too, a sexual corruption built on the most addictive rhythmic strolls as fuzzy flames and toxic grooves like spewed by the pied piper like trespass. It is sonic bedlam, an insatiable lure of noise and rhythmic flirtation which maybe is a touch over long but teases and seduces from its depraved start to its libertine finish.

That sexual edge is taken to greater tension within closing song, Hunter. It is a nagging throb of rhythms and heavy riffs beneath sonic breezes of guitar. From the midst, gravel throated vocals, as throughout the EP, stir up the dirty business around them, grooves and hooks seeming to react decadently around them though everything is in its basest most single minded form to simply incite the listener’s rock ‘n’ roll instincts. Sixties garage rock is a rich fuel to the final assault, its contaminated strains sweet liquor within the soiled goodness.

There Will Be Blood will not be for the clean cut appetites among you but for those with wanton urges for rock ‘n’ roll in its grubbiest invigorating form no-one will be left wanting, only feeling very, very dirty.

There Will Be Blood is out now through Moon Skull Records @ https://moonskull.bandcamp.com/album/there-will-be-blood

https://www.facebook.com/TheLikkorMen/

Pete RingMaster 15/09/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Cavemen – Born To Hate

TC_RingMasterReview

It did not take the release of recent single Too High To Die/I’d Kill to stir up eager anticipation for the new album from The Cavemen, that instinct bred by the band’s debut album last year, but it certainly added to the energy of the lustful welcome offered to Born To Hate. Native New Zealanders now UK based within the “grimy streets of London”, The Cavemen is one of those proposals you naturally take to or not, but for raw and uncompromising spirit stirring rock ‘n’ roll, the quartet’s punk driven garage rock takes some beating.

That previously mentioned single suggested a new primal ferocity and trashy tenacity had been bred in the band’s sound, a lascivious urgency which again fuels Born To Hate. In many ways the release is a continuation of The Cavemen’s self-titled debut album; more of the same lo-fi devilry but with this fresh impetus of sonic corruption, the band breaches a new plateau in their salaciously dirty rock ‘n’ roll.

Savage is the first assault on ears, its blues scented impurity a swift involvement of ears and appetite as sixties garage rock puts on its punk pants for a stomping trespass driven by the rhythmic slaps of drummer Jake and the moody bassline of Nick. As with most songs from the band to date, involvement with feet and vocal chords is swift and full, its ease of persuasion just a warm up for the joys to come as I’m A Mess swoops in straight after. A teasing spicy hook starts things rolling, its inescapable lure soon backed by tenacious rhythms and the scuzzy enterprise of guitarist Jack, in turn his great unpolished vocal backing to the punk attitude bred delivery of front man Paul creating a rousing union hard to resist.

swamp-cover_RingMasterReviewI Hate Art romps in next, its raucous hook littered confrontation assaulting and exciting like a fusion of The Sonics and Eddie and The Hot Rods and quickly in control of hips and feet whilst stirring up a litter of trouble before Satan Is Her Name stalks ears and imagination with the same trashy deviancy and demonic wantonness as bound in its centre of attention. Fair to say floorboards bounce when the song is around, its infectiousness enslaving and instantly matched by that uncaged by the corrosive sixties pop bawdiness of In Love With You complete with eagerly chopping riffs and fab four inspired howls.

There is a taste of Motorhead to next up Speed Of Death, its harsh ferocity and virulent antagonism as catchy as anything taunting from within Born To Hate while showing a broader diversity within the familiar Cavemen sound. That variety continues across the album as songs like I Hope They Drop The Bomb On Me bullies and flirts with its sonically befouling seventies punk/power pop inspired antagonism and straight after the crazed punk ‘n’ roll of Ain’t My Baby ignites an even greedier reaction and union between listener and release.

The band drops down a gear for the excellent Dead To Me, its meaty croon though still loaded with muscular energy as it strolls rabidly through ears with its psychobilly laced garage rock before Nasty Girl Nasty Boy whips up the passions all over again with its The Pirates meets The Flys romp. Pure rock ‘n’ roll in its most primordial punk breeding, the track is irresistible; a certain pinnacle though closely chased throughout the album by songs like the psychotic UK Subs coloured C.H.A.R.L.I.E. and the ever glorious I’d Kill (To See You Dead). One of the tracks on the last single, it is a belligerent nagging of the senses carrying a great groan of The Saints and The Lurkers to its grouchy contagion.

Born To Hate is completed by the persistent fingering of Why Won’t You; a song as seventies pop glam as it is punk in its sonically ravaged way, and an inescapable infection to bring a thrilling release to a boisterously rousing close. The band’s songs might and will draw comparisons to others at certain times but every flavour is devoured, twisted, than corrupted again until emerging as part of a riot unique to The Cavemen and right here helping create an album which simply leads you into dirty habits.

Born To Hate is available via Dirty Water Records at https://thecavemennz.bandcamp.com/album/born-to-hate  and http://www.dirtywaterrecords.co.uk/shop/#!/The-Cavemen/c/18119001/offset=0&sort=normal

 

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Pete RingMaster 29/11/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Bad Flowers – Self Titled EP

the-bad-flowers-promo-shot_RingMasterReview

Since forming in 2014, UK rockers The Bad Flowers have been persistently been drawing attention with their groove woven and enjoyably imposing rock ‘n’ roll, Through singles, a previous EP, and a live presence which has been no stranger to strong praise either, the trio has being pushing towards national attention. That spotlight just might be broken with the release of their new EP, a self-titled offering of four tracks which just rumble and tempt with increasing persuasion.

Consisting of vocalist/guitarist Tom Leighton, bassist Dale Tonk, and drummer Karl Selickis, the Cannock hailing outfit released their well-received debut EP Vicious Lullabies in the March of 2015 while earlier this year the singles Killing Time and City Lights did the growing reputation of The Bad Flowers no harm at all. Backed by a live presence which has seen the band play with the likes of Crobot, The Sheepdogs, and The Sonics among many, the band is a coming force. A thought and expectation only reinforced by their new proposal.

The EP opens up with Can You Feel It?, a track which instantly descends on ears with a wall of biting beats and sonic enterprise as forceful as it is inviting. Cored by the dark lures of Tonk’s bass, the song mellows a touch as melodies and Leighton’s quickly impressing vocals open up their energetic suggestiveness and emotion but still has a weight and raw boldness to it which commands attention. Further into its body the more grooves and sonic enterprise is unveiled, the heady beats of Selickis a potent link and though the song maybe is at its most compelling when roaring heartily, it is a strong and fiercely enticing opening to the EP.

the-bad-flowers-cover-artwork_RingMasterReviewCity Lights is next sharing bluesy liquor from its first sway of sonic enticement around the expressive tones of Leighton. As it gathers up its imagination, the song prowls the senses, courting the imagination with its heavy rock grooves which at times carry a touch of Red Fang to them as a spicing best described as Black Sabbath meets Electric Woodland gets involved in the magnetic textures of the outstanding track.

Easy to understand its successful lure as a single, the song is more than matched by Big Country and its own web of arousing bass grooves and swinging beats within the infectious and inventive sonic endeavour of Leighton, his voice a matching potency in another fine proposition from band and EP. As in its predecessor there is something familiar to the song if hard to pin down yet but this only adds to its enjoyment and urging of participation as well as expectations that it is a real crowd pleasing arouser at the band’s gigs.

The EP is brought to a close by Run, Run, Run. It too is a riveting slab of grooved temptation, at times a  blues punk toned piece and in other moments simply sweltering rock ‘n’ roll hard to see many resisting with its uncompromisingly catchy demeanour and spirit rousing energy.

The same applies to the EP as a whole, its sound and character very easy to embrace without question especially as the release seems to blossom more with every listen. The Bad Flowers is certainly moving in the right direction with a sound which is refusing to take no for an answer.

The Bad Flowers’ EP is released November 4th

Check out our interview with The Bad Flowers @ https://ringmasterreviewintroduces.wordpress.com/2016/06/16/snarling-blossoms-exploring-the-heart-of-the-bad-flowers/

https://www.facebook.com/thebadflowersband/    http://thebadflowers.uk/   https://twitter.com/TheBadFlowers

Pete RingMaster 03/11/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Los Chicos – Rockpile of Shit

Los Chicos_RingMasterReview

There are few rock ‘n’ roll parties as thrilling and irresistible as those provided by Spanish rockers Los Chicos, an experience they offer once again with new album Rockpile of Shit. Offering fourteen tracks which embrace everything from garage to pub rock, punk to funkily soulful shenanigans and plenty more, the release is a feast of boisterously rousing rock ‘n’ roll and a delicious echo of the Madrid quintets’ inimitable live show.

Formed in 2000, Los Chicos have released a quartet of increasing acclaim grabbing albums before Rockpile of Shit, the previous trio of Launching Rockets (2007), We Sound Amazing But We Look Like Shit (2009), and In the Age of Stupidity (2013) released, as the band’s new encounter this time in conjunction with Folc Records, on the always impressing Dirty Water Records. Live the band has ignited stages alongside the likes of Mudhoney, Southern Culture on the Skids, King Khan, The Sonics, Johnny Casino, Soundtrack of our Lives, Redd Kross, Cosmic Psychos, Spencer P Jones, The New Christs, The Young Fresh Fellows, The Meanies, Barrence Whitfield, Hi-Risers, Eddie And The Hot Rods, Roy Loney, and many others and toured across the globe, hitting Australian four times. Now they are ready to set a new stomp in motion across the world with Rockpile of Shit, a one hard to resist slab of fiercely flavoursome rock ‘n’ roll.

Feet and hips are soon as on board with band and album as ears when opener A Kingdom Of Coolness starts things off. Choppy beats and riffs soon tempt as grooves and vocals steer the course of the punk infused encounter. With its seeds seemingly in sixties garage rock and seventies punk, the track carries a great feel of old UK band The Cortinas to it as it emerges an undemanding yet seriously inescapable incitement to body and appetite as virulently infectious as it is commandingly rousing.

The same qualities fuel the following Rockanrolla, its own raw rock qualities making a potent temptation around the inviting tones of vocalist Rafa Suñén. Again the guitars of Gerardo Urchaga and Antonio Urchaga nag and jangle with remorseless enterprise and persuasion, bringing an Eddie And The Hot Rods hue to its boisterous catchiness before the even more virulent charms of I Don’t Wanna Learn Anymore steps forward. The swinging bassline of Guillermo Casanova makes for a powerful lure as the crisp beats of Ral García back up its invitation; they in turn matched in old school revelry by the guitars but with a modern spice which is inimitably Los Chicos.

FDW003_RingMasterReviewThe funky R&B of Older And Better has feet taking to the floor from its first rhythmic beckon, backed perfectly by the sizzling flames of sax which grace the outstanding encounter. With a hint of King Salami and the Cumberland Three to it, the song is mouth-watering devilry laying an early claim to best track on the album but soon rivalled by its Department S spiced title track. It too infests body and soul, bringing each alive and indeed eager vocal participation with its and the bands creative festivity.

Last Day Here offers a fiercer snarl while feasting on a fifties rockabilly inspiration. Equally though, it has a power pop vibrancy which lights up another impossible to escape chorus, voice and hips puppets to its manipulative magnetism. With discord flirting with the guitars and a Devo-esque quaintness emerging, the track epitomises the album; a seemingly simply flavoured proposition soon showing itself bursting with bold adventure and diversity.

The country/cow punk romp of Responsibility Ville hits the spot with ease next whilst More Beer is a melodic jangle sparking thoughts of countrymen The Pulsebeats as it too grips an already greedy appetite for release and sound. The wonderful relentless beats of García, as throughout the album, enslave ears and spirit alone, guitars and vocals playing with its conquest in an array of styles and devilish ways, Miami Beach soon employing its own surf hued punk ‘n’ roll web ensuring there is no respite for the listener’s  body and enjoyment.

Through The Ramones meets The Members like Mommy’s On MDMA and the country punk of Little Man, there is no lessening in bouncing songs and bodies while Night Ride adds its own individual twist on the country rock scent. All three leave a big smile on the face, though each is eclipsed by the scuzzier funk ‘n’ roll of I Know I Don’t Know and finally the hypnotic shuffle of closing track Toga Land. The pair ensures that physical and emotional involvement is at its most eager as the album comes to a mighty conclusion, an event leading only to a hard deny urge to press play and start all over again.

A great many already know of the rock ‘n’ roll majesty spun by Los Chicos, and with Rockpile Of Shit we can be safe in suggesting so will a great many more. This is one party everyone should gate crash.

Rockpile Of Shit is out now via Dirty Water Records/ Folc Records @ http://www.dirtywaterrecords.co.uk/shop/#!/~/category/id=2801529&offset=0&sort=addedTimeDesc and http://folcrecords.tictail.com/product/fdw003-los-chicos-rockpile-of-shit-preventa-disponible-en-mayo

https://www.facebook.com/LOS-CHICOS-42339317978

Pete RingMaster 30/06/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Cavemen – Self Titled

The Cavemen_RingMasterReview

With a name like The Cavemen, you instantly give a suggestion of sound and character before a note is flung at ears. Thoughts imagine something raw and primal; a sound stripped to the bone with no concern for niceties and that is exactly what you get in the New Zealander’s self-titled debut album. The Cavemen creates attitude driven garage punk ‘n’ roll which simply stirs up the punk inside and twists it into songs which are as addictively contagious as they are belligerently mischievous.

Formed by a quartet of high school teens, The Cavemen emerged in 2012 after spending “several years of under aged drinking and loitering around the various basements, graveyards and parking lots of their home city.” With their dirty and intrusive sound honed to the virulently imposing height found on the new release, the quartet of vocalist Paul Caveman, guitarist Jack Caveman, bassist Nick Caveman, and drummer Jake Caveman soon began stirring up their homeland’s live scene. That success though was soon facing obstacles which led to the band to looking at moving over to the UK, Paul explaining with the thought, “No bar will have us, no station will play us… We might as well bugger off to the other side of the world.” So now London based, The Cavemen has linked up with Dirty Water Records for the global release of their debut full-length, an album having already ignited eager appetites with its previous limited vinyl release via 1:12 Records.

Think The Cramps and The Stooges meets The Damned, in their early days, and The Ramones and you get a clue to the incitement leaping out from the album’s opener alone. Mentally Ill swiftly has ears and appetite gripped with its brawling lo-fi devilment; guitars and bass creating a swiftly gripping tempting as beats trespass the senses with their antagonistic swing and vocals deliver every syllable in a rabid squall of tone and attitude. Garage rock meets ’77 punk rock, the track is an attention grabbing start to the album instantly backed and eclipsed by the irritable confrontation of Fuck For Hate. Hook and grooves entangle as the song stirs up ear and spirit; vocals egging on the track’s rebellion and discontent as it worms under the skin.

cavemen front sleeve_RingMasterReviewIt too is then over shadowed a touch by the outstanding Stand By Your Ghoul. Straight away the collusion of guitar and bass hooks has lips being licked, then smiling broadly as Hamond-esque keys dance devilishly on the imagination within another handful of tempting seconds. The prime bait reminds of seventies band The Piranhas, or more specifically their single Jilly whilst the bare boned roar of the track manages to come over as something between The Dirtbombs and The Horrors in their early days.

The album’s punk driven rock ‘n’ roll continues to seriously involve and excite body and spirit as the fifty scowling seconds of Scumbag leads to the minute and a half invasive seduction of Rides With The Reich. Barely a track goes by without escaping the two minute mark, a short sharp riot approach which does not stop songs like this also uncaging the most contagious of hooks and swaggers within senses bracing tempests of multi-faceted punk rock.

Rock ‘n’ Roll Retard bristles and romps next; wearing its old school punk nature as sonic belligerence before At The Pub barges in with its gang mentality punk ‘n’ roll. Again there is little resistance from feet and vocal chords as participation to yet another song from The Cavemen is inescapable; a submission given time and time again to its persuasion and to brawls like Fucked In The Head and Drink Driving. Again that garage rock flavouring creates great flames of eventful contrasts in the creative truculence stirring up ears, the second of this pair managing to find an oi! like challenge to get even greedier over too.

The limb throwing swagger of School Sucks offers a fractious anthem next whilst Crimes Tonight squeezes some power pop revelry into its sixties/seventies infested rock ‘n’ roll; a fusion of flavours casting something that is The Sonics meets The Saints like. Both tracks, it goes without saying by this point in the album, has the body bouncing and emotions defiant, the latter aspect even more so with the dirty Motorhead tinged rock ‘n’ roll of Glass Breakfast.

The album closes with the irresistible furnace of Trash Talkin’ Paint Huffin’ Girl, a final fevered stomp of incendiary punk and rock devilry as raw and primitive as it is ferociously galvanic. It is a rigorously boiling end to a thrilling blaze of rapacious rock ‘n’ roll from a band which sparks a new flame, song by song, in the bushfire of pleasure which runs through album and its thorough enjoyment.

Time to free the primitive in us all with The Cavemen!

The Cavemen album is released via Dirty Water Records on April 25th @ http://www.dirtywaterrecords.co.uk/shop/ and digitally @ https://thecavemennz.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/thecavemennz

Pete RingMaster 25/04/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

For more exploration of the independent and promotional services check out http://www.zykotika.com

Virgin Kids – Greasewheel

VK_RingMasterReview

Having more than teased with their self-titled EP in the November 2014, UK garage rockers Virgin Kids have unleashed their full sonic flirtation with debut album Greasewheel. Breeding their off kilter rock ‘n’ roll from an entangling of garage and post punk with psych and fiery pop rock, the London based trio cast an intoxicating enticement posing as an album which swiftly arouses the spirit and colludes with the imagination.

Formed as a bedroom project by Asher Preston, Virgin Kids fully emerged as a band late 2014 with childhood friend Paul Rosser and ex-Fawn Spots drummer Sean Hughes alongside the band’s frontman. Since then and the release of the aforementioned EP, the threesome has gained a potent live reputation, an adventure which has seen them share stages with the likes of whilst Jacuzzi Boys, The Coathangers, Kim and The Created, and Dirty Fences amongst others to date. Numerous comments about the band on stage talks of a “fevered intensity”, an element Virgin Kids has seemingly tried and for the main succeeded in now representing across Greasewheel.

The album opens with Bruised Knees, a kinetic jangle of guitar and contagious vocal urging from the first second. In no time, the song climbs over the senses, dark rhythms mixing with a fuzzy entrapment of ears in something which provokes thoughts of The Sonics, early Horrors, and The Hives in devilish union. A lively spark for the spirit, the track provides a great start to the revelry of the album, quickly backed by the more reserved but no less magnetic Cracks In A Colour. The band’s new single, it immediately swings with a graceful gait infused with appealing bass cast shadows. Soon that sixties seeded enterprise becomes a busier eruption of sound and energy, returning to the song’s initial melodic and controlled romancing before alternating between the two from thereon in.

art_RingMasterReviewFrom one pinnacle to another as My Alone stands tall from the off with its own individual sonic flirtation and seduction of ears. Like The Dickies meets Love Buzzard meets Asylums with a touch of Buzzcocks to its hooks and melodic grooves, the song is a glorious blaze of garage rock/pop, with a virulent harmonic invitation as inescapable as the anthemic rhythmic tenacity the track rolls along on before Never Nude slips in with a healthy whiff of seventies punk to its Thee Exciters/The Fleshtones like scent.

Both tracks on their own make Greasewheel an epic must listen, and are powerfully backed by the chaotic punk ‘n’ roll of Crook and the acidic Horrors-esque smooching of Shrink. The first of the two is another high point, its scuzzy heart and raw crescendos delicious tempering and companion to addictive grooves and melody sculpted hooks. Its successor proceeds to writhe with sonic temptation from its first breath, mellowing out into a psych pop seducing seemingly brewed from a blending of shoegaze and psychedelic pop. Equally there is a darker lining to the track which emerges more as it develops and spins a tangy web of guitar crafted suggestiveness littered with heavier rhythmic trespasses.

After the melodic lure of Shrink Wrap, a very brief epilogue like follow-up to its predecessor carrying a Teardrop Explodes air to it, the album concludes with the feisty pop jangle of Be Your Friend. Whipping up energy in body and voice to unite with its own, the song is an irresistible close to a similarly thrilling release. Greasewheel builds on the dramatic introduction of Virgin Kids’ first EP whilst creating its own unique character of sound and potential for bigger and creatively rowdier things to come. We for one cannot wait for their fruition over future releases whilst being a perpetual companion for this treat of a proposition.

Greasewheel is out now on cd, vinyl, and digitally through Fluffer Records in the UK and Burger Records in the US.

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Pete RingMaster 14/03/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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