Classic Rock - - Reviews - By Sleaze­grinder


Gods Of An­cient Grease Port­land, ore­gon band lovesores cer­tainly aren’t hedg­ing their bets on faded glo­ries, but you should know that scott ‘Deluxe’ Drake and Jeff Field­house of the almighty Humpers are at the helm here.

The Humpers were the Heart­break­ers (Thun­ders edi­tion) of the 90s. True story. lovesores don’t stray too far from that sound, ei­ther. it’s bruis­ing, fist-fly­ing, drunk-tank rock’n’roll that lurches around with genuine bleary-eyed men­ace. Thick

and Vi­o­lent is the real bulls­eye here, a prime slice of down­town sleaze, but the exquisitely ti­tled Blue suede col­lar is a great Jerry lee/sex Pis­tols rave-up,

good girls Don’t scream is the kinda pitch-black punk bal­lad you might find in the dark­est cor­ner of a Dead Boys al­bum, and ex­quis­ite kicks is a pul­veris­ing wall of gui­tars that you might never re­cover from. i’m in love with the whole thing, re­ally.

This al­bum will thor­oughly clean your fuckin’ clock. lovesores are to­tal sonic as­sas­sins. They could prob­a­bly kill disco again, if they had to. Tommy And The Com­mies

Here Comes...

SLOVENLY if you miss the days when we were all just sim­ple dum­mies with sim­ple de­mands out of life – two-minute rock’n’roll songs, bub­blegum, speed, lost week­ends – then Tommy and The com­mies are the band for you. sorta like the cana­dian Briefs, they play catchy, herky-jerky punk tunes about how un­pop­u­lar they are with girls. Per­fecto.


Pussy Goblin

Sin­is­ter Ser­mons Be­neath the shock-rock ve­neer of out­ra­geous, fem­i­nist-bait­ing song ti­tles like sledge­ham­mer

abor­tion and a Hole is a Hole lies a red-hot rock n’ roll band with Thin lizzy licks and a kill­dozer-y pen­chant for cor­ro­sive, sledge­ham­mer death-punk. it’s prob­a­bly worth the shun­ning you’ll get for own­ing it. This band are ru­in­ing their own lives, might as well let ‘em ruin yours, too. lord Dahu You Can Run But You Can’t Hide

lORDDahu.banD­camp.cOm imag­ine what would hap­pen if you mixed the tree-trunk thump of Hell­ham­mer with the over­driven, drug-ad­dled garage punk of The Dwarves and the creepy acid me­tal gui­tars of chrome, then left the mon­stros­ity to rot in the woods. That’s this record. it’s in­cred­i­ble. su­per god

of evil should be the new na­tional an­them for what­ever coun­try you’re in.

Burn­ing leather

Day­light Nights

MOTORPUNK Tank will never make it to the cover of clas­sic

rock mag­a­zine, but the fact of the mat­ter is they are the led zep­pelin of bul­let-belt bands, the rolling stones of crusty head­bangers, the Pink Floyd of hard­core beer drinkers and hell­rais­ers, and this thor­oughly scald­ing col­lec­tion of bat­tleready rock­ers is a tow­er­ing tes­ta­ment to their last­ing in­flu­ence. it will have you step­ping on land­mines for days.

Lovesores: to­tal sonic as­sas­sins.

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