The band themselves claim to be "a great band to clear a party" but I'd have to say that any party this lot are playing at I'd want to be there! Formed in New Zealand over a shared love of glue sniffing and wild rock 'n' roll, the band have now relocated to London to begin spoiling for a fight this side of the world and it's a promise that I bet they keep.
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.
Let’s get it out of the way, up front. The two members of Archie and The Bunkers are teenage brothers from Cleveland, Ohio, who live with their parents. You need to know because media types will get hung up on that fact if and when these kids get better known.
That neither 17-year-old Emmett (on drums and vocals) or 14-year-old Cullen (organ and vocals) O'Connor is old enough to ask for booze on their backstage rider doesn’t matter. Not a jot. They pump out simple, and simply good, stripped-back punk sounds that are bereft of bullshit.
Un bon vieux rock ‘n’ roll, bien retro… C’est comme ça que Marty Mc Fly qualifiait le "Johnny B. Goode" de Chuck Berry dans Retour Vers Le Futur. Ici, avec Hipbone Slim And The Kneetremblers on est à fond dans ce registre. Ugly Mobile se situe aux origines du rock ‘n’ roll et nous prouve que ce dernier est toujours bien vivant. Mais attention, dès les premières mesures de "Bald Head, Hairy Guitar" on voit à qui on a affaire. Hipbone Slim est un des ces hurleurs façon Screaming Lord Sutch, possédé totalement par la musique et dévoué à la cause.
Hipbone Slim And The Kneetremblers is a band that plays proper rock ’n’ roll!
Now I know we use the term rock ‘n’ roll quite a bit (like most websites/magazine do) when it’s not really rock ‘n roll music we’re talking about. Sir Bald Diddley (aka Hipbone Slim) and his gang though take all their influences from the roots of rock ’n’ roll, yet give it their own unique stamp and energy, playing their take on rock ’n’ roll with a garage band swagger and enthusiasm.
Well, Dirty Water have credit in the bank aplenty for the calibre of artists on their label and Los Chicos are another off that ever impressive conveyor belt. Hey, if you want a snappy name for your record why not call it 'Rockpile Of Shit'? On the sleeve they proclaim it to be pub rock so pub rock is what we'll call it. How about 14 slabs of thick as pub rock? So lace up your dancing shoes, grab a bottle and let's go!
IT'S summertime and the livin' is easy – so there's no better moment to enjoy a putrid blast of grimy garage punk rock from down under in the form of the self-titled debut LP by Kiwi cacophonists The Cavemen.
Here it is! It sure didn’t take long for this band to find a label to put out their debut single, and why would it with songs that good?
Two mid-tempo power pop tunes with a bitter-sweet vibe, emphasised by Lucy’s gentle vocals which really carry the emotion of the songs. To back her up, the Rats play effective melodies and resorting to catchy guitar hooks.
Lucy from the Ramones-influenced pop punk trio, the Spazzys, is the ‘Lucy.’ The Spazzys have made headlines not only in Australia, where they come from, but across the globe. But she didn’t stop there! Artists of this calibre need constant challenges, and so do the rest of the band members. The ‘Rats’ are Joe, Manu and Mike, who all have a bunch of other interesting projects. Trust me, you want to experience them all.
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.
From Auckland, New Zealand comes a crew of slag rock sleazers who dish up a foul monstrosity of musical deviancy loaded with rabid desires conjured from a garaged grimoire that summons up many mental phantoms of disease. The noise is ravenous, feeds on your will and appeals to the most raw-boned basic instincts us music lovers all find within. I am sure those of a more cleansed faith will find this nauseating filth to get thoroughly tuned out by but to the more ardent and twisted imps of acoustica then it will be a case of erections aplenty that will be an utter pleasure jack off. It happens, get over it, I am going in head first regardless of any advice - fuck you!
ohn Felice is one of rock’n’roll’s unsung heroes. A founding member of the Modern Lovers at the age of 15, he quit the band before the sessions that resulted in their classic album, and was subsequently written out of the history of one of the most influential bands of the ‘70s.
The band he left to form, the Kids, made some local waves but ultimately went nowhere, pretty much coming to an end when he went off to New York to audition for the Heartbreakers - a job he turned down.
Bloody hell, these Auckland kids come with a bang! Listening to their debut self-titled album is like being in my own pit, surrounded by savage ghosts from former gigs. I can almost smell the sex, drugs and rock n roll infused sweat and the rotten beer on the floor.