How many times has the sweet tasting wine escaped your trembling lips? Taking in the glam, the sham and their righteous poseuring, these fascist infidels of fanaticism give you their third album Caul of the Outlaw.
A dirty dozen of original songs by four original people, this album is something of a watershed for our King Loser; no roulette of drummers, no trawling of previous recordings. Straight up, Downtown, Nowhere.
Heazlewood sits at the helm, having recorded and engineered most of this at K.L.H.Q. over a couple of months. O'Reilly plays some of the best guitar since Adam learnt the E major chord in the Garden of Eden. Celia comes on like a chanteuse changing her mind while Tribal Thunder lays down the demon beat.
A personal crusade through Hell while laughing at the top of their lungs, this is Necessary Evil. You know you want it. Elemental and primitive yet sophisticated, leather clad of cloven hoof, these cats will blow the roof then ask to be bought drinks. What have you got to do?
Not a Surf Band, not here anyway; take one part indomitable spirit, one of rebellion, and another of attitudinal flux. Mix with an endearing obnoxiousness and appetite for obstruction and you have four from the dark side. Itching to set the night on fire but reduced to playing with matches and a can of lighter fluid, they summon the power of a rock'n'roll band.
Ancient rites of forgotten primitivism get mixed up with 21st century blues. Ride the Arcane. Mixed up with mixed up kids, nurture strength of spirit cruel and kind, nothing stops your surrender into time........to be cont'd.