Amebix: Sonic Mass
Originally formed in 1978, the Amebix emerged amid the cauldron of fury that fermented across Crass Records’ first ‘Bullshit Detector’ collection. Sonically however, the West Country outfit sought to transcend anarcho orthodoxy, as was immediately evident from their eschatological debut EP, ‘Who’s The Enemy’ [Spiderleg, 1982]. Although frontman Rob ‘The Baron’ Miller retrospectively described the four-track set as ‘a very basic and unremarkable effort’, tracks such as ‘Carnage’ and ‘Curfew’ clearly indicated that the group’s palate of influences and sonic ambitions tapped into something far more primal and post-dystopian than many of their contemporaries.
Eighteen months on, now hardened by the uncertainties and deprivations of squat living on Thatcher’s peasant reservations, the Amebix extended their developmental curve with a second collection, ‘No Sanctuary’ – a 12” seven track EP that emerged in 1984. Driven by Miller’s elephantine bass, the disc was suffused with an expansive primality, with the likes of ‘Progress?’ and ‘Winter’ shimmering as though broadcast across a desolate wasteland as the last rites of a doomed race.
A chance encounter with Dead Kennedys’ demagogue Jello Biafra at Southern Studios led to the Amebix becoming the first UK band signed to Biafra’s Alternative Tentacles label. The resultant album, 1985’s ‘Arise’ saw the group weld their heavy metal influences ever more firmly to their post-punk basis. ‘There was simply no one else at that time playing heavy metal with a punk attitude’, recalled Miller. ‘We were steeped in Black Sabbath despite our musical illiteracy, waking up to Motörhead and bass power chord riffing. Gigs were amazing – people didn’t know quite what the fuck was going on, we were intense, heavy as hell, and loud.’
A move to Heavy Metal records in 1987 yielded the appropriately named ‘Monolith’ LP. An impassable slab of sound and volume, it would be their final release of new material.
Until now. Having walked away from Babylon to spend two decades as a self-taught swordsmith on the Isle Of Skye, Miller felt that the time was right for the Amebix to arise once more. Upon returning the group to active status, brothers Rob and Stig were delighted to find the bands’ influence had extended across the Atlantic to long-time fan, Roy Mayorga (Soulfly, Stone Sour), who jumped at the chance to occupy the drum bunker. Rob admits that without the addition of Roy there would be no Amebix today, ‘Roy has bought more than just musicianship to the band, he has bought discipline and an understanding of what we truly wanted to convey, and the experience to allow that to manifest.”
In early 2009, the Amebix made their first ever American appearances, selling out eight venues across the country. Buoyed by this initial success, they returned to the US and Canada for a second tour later in 2009, and made numerous European appearances. This inspired the trio to record a single, ‘Knights of the Black Sun’, which was released in 2011 ahead of its mothership album ‘Sonic Mass’. ‘It took three years, looking for opportunities to meet and create music – different places, different times,’ explains Rob. ‘It feels like this album grew organically around us. It’s a mature reflection on the lives we’ve lived and a vindication of the journey.’
This maturity is evident by the control and restrained evident throughout ‘Sonic Mass’. Essentially a suite of songs, opener ‘Days’ begins pastorally, drifting on the winds of future histories. A martial snare kicks in and the burners are lit – the brothers’ Miller’s trademark bass and guitar assault detonates as in times past – but here, today, there is skilled restraint that renders the song cinematic and expansive. After the instrumental ‘Shield Wall’ takes the band back to the bunker, back to their roots, portentous standout track ‘The Messenger’ is ancient and primal – sounding like the Cult Of The Black Sun slaying Killing Joke upon the Festival Of Spoons.
The panoply of paganisms expands throughout ‘God Of The Grain’ as Eastern infusions are juxtaposed against visceral, churning post-post-punk, as Rob intones, ‘I am the light that never ends. Primeval lore and the forgotten knowledge of endless, countless lives is poured forth across a metallic flange assault before the insidious ‘Visitation’ opens the nightmare box.
The titular two-part opus opens with acoustic harmonics. It is the calm before the final storm. Heavy and fast, ‘Sonic Mass Part Two’ detonates amid a miasma of crescent moons, defenestrated cruciforms and ambiguous sirens, as axes are shredded along with the fatted lamb. ‘Here Come The Wolf’ explores the mythic scope of absolutes subverting the loud/quiet template to unsettle, while the tribal, elementally cosmological ‘The One’ expands from speakers as a soaring evocation of dark grandeur.
The last verse of ‘Sonic Mass’, ‘Knight of the Black Sun’ underlines the manner in which the disc represents the continuation of the band’s development that had been rudely interrupted almost a quartet of a century ago. This development is largely predicated upon the trio’s increased mastery of their instruments, which enables them to expand into more complex arrangements far removed from the direct assault of early material such as the mighty-but-basic ‘Arise’ and ‘Curfew’. Whereas Rob’s bass would previously have been employed to titanic sledgehammer effect, here it is employed to add subtle infusions to a track that begins gently, before building toward an ominous anthemic peak. Underpinned by insistent riffage, discreet synths and thundering toms, Rob’s melancholic, reflective vocals convey the mythic lyrical content effectively to evoke a sense of frosted, bleak abandonment that is described by the band as ‘a lighter moment’.
Happily, it seems as if there will be more to come. ‘We are all a band of brothers, and the entire story of Amebix is yet to be completed,’ asserts Rob.
Sonic Mass is available in CD, picture disc, and genuinely sumptuous limited gatefold edition red vinyl. For more information check out the Easy Action website.
January Collektion
When I was a kid and worked in Discovery Rekkids, SuponA, the highlight de semaine was the arrival of the delivery van bearing the Rough Trade/Cartel box. When I was a bit older and worked at 9-Mile Distribution (The Cartel), Leamo Spa, the highlight de jour was the arrival of a box from Revolver, Backs, Rough Trade, Small Wonder, Fast, Factory, and a golden host of like-minded distros/labels. Some 30 years later, both those experiences return to me now as I sit here unpacking this week’s delivery from La Vida Es Un Mus
Stroll with us now, casual reader/cultural aficionado, as we saunter through this atrocity exhibition in vinyl. Absorb the striking stencilled murals. Squint at the dazzling silk-screened card. Shield your eyes from the strobe lights reflecting off of the coloured wax (where applicable). Inserts. Posters. Stickers. Round. Or. Skinny. Bottoms. Fidelity wavers, strides purposefully into the red. The speakers scream while my daddy prunes. Meanwhile, back in the anti-collektor-scum bunker: black remains the colour of purity. De stijl, my beat-poetic-heart:
Condominium – Warm Home (Condominium Records)
St. Paul, Minnesota: home to weirdcore fuck-ups, Condominium.
The word anticipation fails comprehensively to convey the expectations chez Encoule prior to this rekkid’s arrival on my deck. Having eBayed in vain to track down copies of ‘Barricades’, ‘Gag’ or any of their earlier demos/splits/EPs/whatever, hitting ‘repeat’ on You Tube was the closest these ears had come to the raw vinyl essence of Condominium . . . until, that is, ‘Warm Home’ landed.
In spite of my frankly limited familiarity with Condominium’s back catalogue, three listens in, I’ve now heard enough to boldly suggest that ‘Warm Room’ is the band’s most defined work to date. Despite possessing a mere seven ‘songs’, duly dispatched in around 22 minutes, the depth and breadth of this release stretches the evolved framework of hardcore above and beyond its atypical limitations.
Adeptly recorded, engineered, and produced to ensure maximum volume at needle level, ‘Warm Room’ is a panoramic aural vista in which to unwind after a hard day at the tills in Tesco, manning the phones at your local call centre, dispensing methadone, digging graves . . . or whatever it is y’all do for a living. Veering from hardcore to weirdcore like a drunk at the wheel of a school bus on a semi-frozen M42, all manner of unexpected sounds emanate from the grooves, like animals attempting to escape from a burning zoo. One minute Condominium deliver their trademark angular hardcore with maximum dexterity, impeccable fidelity, and convincing sincerity, the next we’re up to our necks in a skronking fug soup, with violins replacing the traditional atonal saxophones. These sections are significant. They expand exponentially beyond the confines of pastiche exhibited in similar circumstances by recent long players from The Men, Sex Church and Total Control. These boys are true freaks, make no mistake. Just one glance at the rekkid’s unnerving artwork will tell you all you need to know about that. It has the look, the feel and the grandeur of a Factory Records release, A Fast product, or something pretentious from the house of 4AD/Mute.
In conclusion, there are rekkids you need to know about, ones you can nonchalantly d/l from some soon-to-be-illegal interface, and rekkids you need to get up off your yr lazy arse and make a constructive effort to own. ‘Warm Room’ is one of the latter.
Sump – Demo 111 – (Dead Section Records)
Hails!!! From the frozen northern lands of England, the shires of York, the horde known simply as: Sump.
Admirably prolific in their own back yard, Sump have already issued a plethora of self-released cassettes, 7”/splits . . . and now this: their debut long player. Culled from rehearsal room demos thrown down in 2010, ‘Demo 111’ proffers 19-cuts of brutal blackened punk. In terms of the obsidian elements, this is no Bone Awl emperor’s new clothes bring-and-buy sale. You can trace the black metal in Sump’s palate all the way back to Venom; the d-beat all the way back to Motörhead; and the KBD punk rock all the way back to Raw Records.
As a two-piece (gtr/vox/drums), Sump make one fuck of a noise. Fidelity-wise, this release pisses all over the band’s earlier work. I’m pretty sure there’s a bass in their somewhere, too, but it’s not credited within the white on black gothic type that punctuates the artwork with such cryptic menace. Aesthetically, this is a wonderful artefact to own. You can still smell the ambience of the silk-screening process on both the insert and sleeve. I love the smell of napalm in the morning.
Kromosom – ‘8-Tracks’ (D-Takt & Rapunk Records)
Melbourne’s Kromosom take their d-beat lineage from the more metallic backwaters of Japanese noise punk, and, I guess, considering their geographical location, that’s demographically representative, if nothing else. Compared to a bunch of other hyped Australian bands breaking through right now (Total Control, Royal Headache, Dead Farmers), Kromosom stick resolutely to their d-beat jones.
All of this is perfectly acceptable from a heard-it-all-before-yawn perspective, however, and whether you actually need a bit of Kromosom in your life is a matter of some conjecture. I’ve heard plenty of better d-beat, and I’m slightly bugged by the nods to commercial mainstream metal that stick out like a sore plectrum finger. The artwork is kinda lame, too, in a faux-Vaaska raw ponx style. Consequently, everything Kromosom set out to prove in the first instance is duly rendered ineffective, in my opinion.
Crooked Cross – S/T EP (Video Disease Records)
Side-project from members of Cult Ritual and Grinning Death Head (amongst others) offers up five evil jams marinated in essence of black metallic punk rock. The vocals are at the sick end of mid-tone growl, the guitars were presumably bought during a skiing trip to Norway, and when they’ve finally smashed the drum kit to fuck, they could always sell the remains on as cardboard boxes. The artwork is sensational in its purple-tinted gothic splendour, lyric inset, gold vinyl, and ltd to frankly fucking silly numbers. Good luck finding a copy!
Stab – Stab Nation Rising (Quality Control HQ)
London straightedge hardcore mob, Stab, ease their collective political consciousness into the public domain with this six-track banger. Hot on the heels of the band’s highly regarded demo, ‘Stab Nation Rising’ is a stunning manifesto of malevolent intent. Stick these fuckers up against the massed hordes of the d-beat battalions, and that might finally get me into World Of Warcraft. In terms of intensity, velocity and pure fuck-you-ism, Stab smash you repeatedly in the face with the lump hammer of hardcore evolution. Shrapnel from every important era of the genre has been honed to perfection for what is, in my humble, the finest release thus far on one of the most exciting labels the UK has to offer circa now. Die-cut jacket, stickered poly bag, lyrics, green vinyl for the quick of the mark, these will be flying out on eBay before you can say ‘ideological oppression’.
Avfall – ‘Now’ EP (Hardcore Survives)
Quality d-beat aggression from Japan’s finest living rekkid label. This six-track EP suggests Mauser will be up against it when they visit Japan to tour with the Hardcore Survives roster later this year. Avfall don’t wander too far from the script, admittedly, but what they lack in originality, they more than make up for in quality of composition, delivery and volume.
Varix – S/T EP (Discos Basura)
Four-girl, seven-track, keeper, out of Minneapolis. Recycled thick card sleeve, fold out poster lyric sheet. Crazy Spirit-beat-fuelled, bass driven, hardcore that vocally trumps Cervix in the Ghosts Of Beki Bondages in Towers department. First release by Catalonian label, Discos Basura, officially distributed by Solo Para Punks, and anyone who’s au fait with the sheer unbridled vitality of the Spanish contemporary hardcore scene will instantly recognise that as the compliment it invariably is. Essential punking.
Bad Noids – S/T (no label)
The kids are revolting!
Cleveland, Ohio, a city steeped in punk rock history, has another export worthy of your attention, scuzz-lovers. Bad Noids are quite possibly certifiable, as anyone who attempts to weld sick Crazy Spirit vocals/beats to School Jerks/B-Lines shaped snot-rag-punk indubitably has to be, by definition. ‘My Country’ has to be heard to be believed: one minute we’re CS-stomping through a miasma of fuzzed fretting, the next Bob Dylan has dropped by with his harmonica for an impromptu solo. Everything in the manual says it should suck chunks, but deep in the future annals of a punk-yet-to-come, pop music somehow wins the war, and Bad Noids duly take their place in the total-fucking-punk-rock hall of infamy, Cleveland branch. One last thing . . . I’m pleased to tell you that the rear sleeve of my copy proudly displays the legend ‘2nd pressing’ . . . what a totally passé fucking double-loser I am, huh?
Long Pigs – S/T EP (SMRT)
Critics of the contemporary New York DIY hardcore scene regularly bemoan the implied nepotism of the milieu, claiming the bands all look the same, sound the same, and, this is possibly veering into the area of conspiracy theory: are actually all the same four dudes (have you noticed, you NEVER see them all together, maan)! Obviously, that’s utter bollocks, and I’d just like to refute that observation indefatigably before we begin this shit.
Long Pigs, like Crazy Spirit, Perdition, Hank Wood & the Hammerheads (to name but three), and a loose affiliation of bands from Boston, namely Brain Killer and Bloodkrow Butcher, do share one or two sonic aestheticisms, I’m not going to lie to you, but there are subtle differences. Viva la difference! Long Pigs are more traditional in influence than Crazy Spirit, less politically observant than Perdition, Bloodkrow Butcher or Brain Killer, and nowhere near as close to certification/sectioning as Hank Wood in the mental health arena. If you want me to dig up a sacred relic from the influence coffin in terms of reference for Long Pigs, I’d hark back to the days of Dangerhouse. Black Flag are in there too. I could play this game all day, but for your sake, I’ll stop there.
These guys are the dudes that run NYC’s Toxic State Records, and there is anecdotal evidence to support the value-based assumption that they hang on to life itself by the white bits at the ends of their fingernails . . . but fuck that, I go for quantitive over qualitative in that regard. In conclusion, if Long Pigs remind these ears of anything, it’s the punk-rock-on-the-edge-of-sanity of Dawn Of Humans, the one band I left out of my grouping of NY (and affiliated) raw punx earlier in this review to give it the feel of a smart-arsed ending. Contrived? I should coco.
Bloodkrow Butcher – S/T EP (Total Fucker)
Slimmed down to a 3-piece, featuring Brain Killer’s PJ on drums, Boston’s Bloodkrow Butcher just keep evolving, and this is their best work to date, 5-tracks of justified and ancient punk rock fury.
Politically motivated, and hell-bent on agitation, this is closer in DNA to UK82 (with a dash of KBD) than d-beat, yet Discharge is the beast Bloodkrow Butcher resemble closest. Not the Discharge of ‘Hear Nothing, See Nothing, Say Nothing’, but the Discharge of ‘Realities Of War’, a completely different kettle of fish, in many respects. As a benchmark for how much I value this release, I inadvertently bought two copies of it, and mailed one off to Cornovi, the land of Dickus Porteri, the very same day: that’s how much I wanted him to own this rekkid. Incidentally, the last piece of vinyl that elicited such a response was Brain Killer’s ‘Every Actual State Is Corrupt’. Co-incidence or grand design, you wear the wig, you be the judge!
Jean Encoule – Jan 2012 – www.trakMARX.com
The Computers
New Tour/Fancy Single
Exeter garage punk titans The Computers have announced the release of a very limited edition blue vinyl seven-inch single of the previously unreleased track ‘A Real Testimonial’. Limited to just 250 copies, it was recorded with Rocket From The Crypt and Hot Snakes main man Speedo during the bands album sessions last year. There are no plans for this to be available in shops, so if you want one you’ll need to get your arse to a show! Half (roughly) available in Europe, the other half (roughly) available in the UK on the following dates with Pulled Apart By Horses.
“We are super excited to be supporting the awesome, handsome and powerful Pulled Apart By Horses!,” exclaims singer and guitarist Screaming Al. “As you might imagine, this tour is going to blow your socks off, set fire to your socks and then put them back on again!”
Tour Dates
11 CARMARTHEN The Parrot Bar (Computers headline show, no PABH)
12 CARLISLE The Brickyard (Computers headline show, no PABH)
13 GLASGOW King Tut’s
14 ABERDEEN Tunnels
15 NEWCASTLE Digital
16 SHEFFIELD Leadmill
17 MANCHESTER Club Academy
18 BRISTOL Fleece
20 BIRMINGHAM Library
21 NORWICH Waterfront
22 SOUTHAMPTON Talking Heads
23 LONDON Electric Ballroom
Archive review of the band’s debut album This Is The Computers
Some bands have names that match how they sound. For example, it’s wholly appropriate that seemingly endless variations of cliché laden, tepid interpretations of second-hand rock’n’roll tropes should emanate from a group with a Christmas cracker pun name like U2. Conversely, think of Motörhead and you can feel the sulphate trammelling along Lemmy’s septum. However, The Computers simply don’t sound like their nomenclature. This is visceral rock’n’roll, motherfucker – not the antiseptic whirring of motherboards.
It’s not that ‘The Computers’ is a bad name; it’s just a little off-kilter. Ideally, they’d be called something more metaphorically concrete, like ‘Grindfrenzy’, or ‘The Impalers’. It’s possible, of course, that there’s an irony that has gone whizzing over my head here, but there’s nothing ambiguous about the Exeter quartet’s blistering debut album This Is The Computers (notice how I didn’t get bogged down in the whole singular/plural title issue, the same way I went all OCD over their name. We’re having a good time, right?)
Broadly speaking, the 11 tracks fall into one of two categories – there’s a kind of melodic hardcore, which sees turbo-charged Ramonics topped by Nic’s larynx shredding vocals and infused with more hooks than a room full of lunatic clerics, and then there’s some of the nastiest, most sinuous interpretations of the whole Bo Diddley/Chuck Berry canon of Ur-r’n’r tropes that I have ever heard. The former are good, whereas the latter are too good.
The disc clocks in at just under 25 minutes. Which is a good thing: Rock’n’roll should be in a hurry. No time to be 21, baby. ‘Where Do I Fit In’ hammers the pedal down hard from the get-go – hitting you like a Drano hotshot and sounding every bit as disenfranchised as it oughta. ‘Lovers Lovers Lovers’ sounds a bit like Rocket From The Crypt on crystal meth – which is no great surprise given that RFTC’s John Reis handled the production. However, the Computers have their own groove, one that is by degrees economic, choppy and pounding, teetering nicely on the edge of chaos, complete self-immolation held at bay by twin towers of melody and lyrical wit. While ‘Blood Is Thicker’ fits this template totally, ‘Hot Damocles’ opens with a shitfit before lock stepping into a kind of Birthday Party-Gone-No-Wave gumbo, and ‘Cinco de Mayo’ takes us outside, hands us some automatic ordinance and sends us on a driving hardcore death trip.
This Is The Computers becomes truly special as ‘Rhythm Revue’ thunders in. This is high-octane rock’n’roll that feeds Little Richard into an atom smasher, snaffles down the resultant sweet goo, and then shags poor ol’ Miss Molly senseless. For those of us who need to keep an eye on their cholesterol, single cut ‘Group Identity’ drops the pace back down below terminal velocity for a spot of hook-infused, coruscating, turbopunk. This respite is but temporary, ‘I’ve Got What It Takes’ sees steamhammer rhythms diced into digestible nuggets of toothsome punk’n’roll, and just as the lyrics promise, the track is enough ‘to make a good girl lose her mind’.
After the circle-pit inducing moshery of ‘Yeah Yeah Yeah But’ is gracefully adorned by layers of hammer-on twinkle, the nasty, churning blues of ‘The Queen In 3D’ refracts a vérité through a shit smeared lens. It’s just the way they walk. The mighty ‘Music Is Dead’ brings the album home by blanching the corpse of popular culture with a ballroom blitzing napalm drop. The apocalypse sounds great.
Archive interview with The Computers’ drum behemoth, Aiden
For those of our readers who are unlucky enough not to be hip to the Computers, could you tell us a little about how you came together and what made you decide to form a band?
We had all grown up together, playing in different bands over our teenage years, hanging around the Cavern. Once these bands had split, Al wanted to start a band that infused his love of soul, garage, punk and rock n roll. Luckily he found another couple of cool cats who shared his vision, and so The Computers were born.
What are the common influences that unite you musically?
We all love garage, we all love soul, we all love punk and rock n roll. That’s all you need.
You’re from Exeter – is there much of a scene going on there, or do you pretty much stand alone?
We are very lucky to have a brilliant venue in Exeter called the Cavern. It’s more than just a venue though. It is the central hub of all alternative souls who roam Exeter, it’s a night out, it’s where we all work it’s where we rehearse; it’s where we eat, drink and sometimes sleep. Having this creates a scene, almost everyone we know plays in a band, it’s weird if you don’t. But none of it would exist if it was not for the Cavern, and the brilliant people who run it.
Given the visceral nature of your rock’n’roll, ‘The Computers’ seems a little antiseptic, how did you come by the name?
We were looking, we saw and we said – The Computers. The name came first, then the band.
How do you think that you have developed as a group since you first got together, five years ago?
Well, we always set out to be a punk/soul/hardcore band. But in the earlier stages the punk and hardcore seemed to shine through over much else. This could have been because of our age, surroundings, knowledge and experience. But through many of years of development, we are starting to focus more on the soulful, garage sound of our band. The best is yet to come.
You recorded This Is The Computers in just four days – was it an enjoyable process? How did you come to hook up with John Reis and did you enjoy recording in the US?
It was a hard task, but very worthwhile. We sound best when we are standing next to each other. We played with John’s new band the Nightmarchers, and it was as simple as just asking him if he wanted to record us. We had nothing to lose. He said ‘Yeah’, and four months later we were jamming in his San Diego basement, and of course it was the best thing we have ever done.
Did you get to play live while you were in the States? If so, how did the band go down?
For visa reasons, no we did not get to perform in front of people, but if we had I’m sure they would have dug it, San Diego is very cool.
Did the eleven tracks on the album come together relatively quickly or were these songs that you’d been developing live over the past couple of years?
Half of the album’s songs were fully nurtured, and had been performed live in many sweaty venues. The other half was finished on the plane or in the basement of the Swami. See if you can guess which ones.
You’ve been touring with Gay For Johnny Depp and Alexis On Fire, how were those gigs?
The Gays are old friends of ours; we did one of our first tours with them. And so our time spent with them is always fun, and they always have a new drummer to get to know so it’s never boring, and the shows are mostly good. As for the shows with Alexis, that was a whole new experience. They were the biggest shows we had played at the time and so it took a while to find our feet on such a big stage. But we got there, two shows and 8000 people later we felt comfortable delivering our weirdo rock n roll to the Alexis masses. The band was great to us too, we gambled, we drank, we sang, we partied every night, good dudes, good dudes.
What kind of following have you developed?
We are still developing the complete following. But if we see someone at a venue with slick back hair, a few tats, and a good pair of shoes on, we often guess that they are our people, and we are never wrong on that.
Press response to the album has been overwhelmingly positive; do you think that the band is now moving up to a higher gear?
That is the aim. As Yaz once said ‘The only way is up, baby!’
What could gig virgins expect from a Computers live show?
Expect the unexpected. But if that’s not enough for the virgins, hear this: Five guys dressed in white, dripping in sweat and splashed in blood playing as tight and as groovy as humanly possible. And unfortunately a fair amount of spit. The Computers hold no responsibility for any infections/illness caught at our shows. Enter at your own risk.
Having worked with John Reis, is there anyone else that you’d like to record with?
I personally love the sound of Steve Lilywhite’s sound of the new wave punk in the late 70’s/early 80’s. But you know, it doesn’t get much better than working with one of your musical heroes.
What’s next for the band?
Many more shows, a few festivals including Reading and Leeds, trips to Europe. It’s all on the website. I can’t say too much because I don’t know what’s announced officially, but watch this space, we have a lot going on. Then a second album for 2012, and like I’ve said the best is yet to come.
Hank Wood and the Hammerheads: s/t
(single, Toxic State)
Away from the orthodoxy, in artificially lit places where neon glows and the only fresh air comes in a can, it’s often possible to find strange and twisted spores. We have one here, direct from New York, courtesy of Hank Wood and his people. The whole thing takes about five minutes, presumably as there’s no time to waste daylight when there’s beozars made of gusset nylon to be boiling up.
The hammerheads are well named – they hammer hard and true, bubba. All three tracks illustrate this, with opener ‘Shoulda Listen (To Momma)’ featuring our man Hank wailing like a Lux/Cave hybrid as a family-sized tub of churning garage fury pounds away relentlessly for a coupla minutes. Aside from a two second organ break that’s all it does. But it does it with genuinely psychotic intent. ‘Fever Breaks’ comes from the sticky area of the fun house, as echoplexed mayhem bounces off of the ‘Die Piggies Die’ sampler and corrsucates around, recombining into jagged eyelid webs that burn. Closing the disc, ‘I’m Hungry’ blasts in like an out of kilter drug train bent on crashing aural barriers, hollering and hooting as it goes. It also features some remarkable screaming.
You wanna talk about some real junk? Here’s the new garbagemen.
Sharks /// – Last Gang In Town
Sharks /// have announced details of their first full-length studio album – ‘No Gods’ – due out on 20/03/12 on Rise Records. The follow-up to the singles collection – ‘The Joys Of Living’ – the LP was recorded at Salad Days. Maryland, USA, during October 2011, with Brian McTernan at the controls. The LP will be trailed by future anthem, ‘Arcane Effigies’.
Sharks /// will be supporting the album with a UK tour introducing bassist, Tony Corrales, who replaces Cris O’Reilly. Tour dates and links to ‘Arcane Effigies’ are all available via Sharks /// FB page.
Check out Sharks /// on Facebook
- Contact: wastebin@trakMARX.com
- trakMARX.com — Under Heavy Manners