Dr. Savage And The Shrunken Heads

Primitive

All murder, all guts, all fun.

LA’s Savage and his gore-guzzling cohorts play a kind of delightfully schmaltzy horror rock, like a rhinestone-encrusted Vegas version of Roky Erickson, or the Saturday morning cartoon version of The Cramps. While they’re clearly rooted in snarly 60s punk, the Shrunken Heads veer off into several directions, from expansive arena rock to Johnny Thunders-esque sleaze, and Dr Savage’s oddly comforting vocals have the mournful edge you’d expect from a dude in a cape.

A lot of these clatteringskeleton bands have limited appeal outside of Danzig season, but the songs here are catchy enough and played with enough flair that they still sound feasible in the dead of a scorching summer, particularly the psychobilly-tinged Time Of Our Lives and the almost Jet-like rock scorcher Witchdoctor Man.

If you’re on the hunt for softcore Satanic rock with a skull-faced singer and Ghost didn’t quite scratch your itch, then Dr Savage has just the prescription for you.