The Thun­der­skulls

Classic Rock - - The Hard Stuff Albums -

The Thun­der­skulls

i’m not say­ing the Thun­der­skulls al­bum sounds like mon­ster mag­net (al­though it to­tally does, if you count Wyn­dorf’s ‘89 demo For­get about

life i’m High on Dope), but i am say­ing that it feels like mon­ster mag­net; like the throb­bing cos­mic brain­child of some zonked-out, low-life black leather Je­sus and his beer-guz­zling dis­ci­ples writ­ing scripture with bro­ken gui­tars and hiss­ing am­pli­fiers.

This is some dy­na­mite shit, vi­cious and tough and scary and hi­lar­i­ous all at once. and while snotty teenage ass­hole rock­ers like BmF (Do as i Please) and Wait­ing To

Die might sound fa­mil­iar, it’s im­pos­si­ble to pin­point ex­actly where they’re com­ing from. They could be into sab­bath, they could be into the crüe, or maybe mud­honey, or they could hate ev­ery­thing you love, for all i know. But ev­ery track is a to­tal mind-fry­ing jam­mer, and The Thun­der­skulls are the new kings of scuzz. That much is cer­tain.

The Tun­der­skulls: the

new kings of scuzz.

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