The Bobby Lees

Skin Suit

ALIVE NATURALSOUND

None-more-feral upstate New York noiseniks the Bobby Lees have stripped garage rock to its barest essentials on this second set with Jon Spencer (delivering his usual trademark up-claustrophobically-closeand-personal production job) at the controls. It’s rock’n’roll as it ought to be: off-the-hook, unhinged, ravaged by Satan, hysterically vital, kicking both serious arse and against polite society’s pricks. Guitars crash down unlikely Robert Quine scales, vocals emote wildly. It’s a blues explosion, alright.

As undisciplined as No Wave, as steeped in comatose cool as 70s CBGB’s original Blank Generation (whose Richard Hellpenned anthem is delivered in appropriately savage style at the album’s conclusion) and as stylishly ferocious as the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Guttermilk is 90 seconds of attitude: Sam Quartin coughing up roaring gobbets of pure angst against an unstable backdrop of canyon-deep Sun Studios reverb; guitarist Nick Casa sounding uncannily like Jon Spencer himself on an allmessed-up-like-an-Elvis-fromhell blurt through Ranch Baby. Whatever, if you haven’t read enough to buy the bastard yet, you probably don’t deserve it. ■■■■■■■■■■ invention under their belt, they mix in metal and alt.rock flourishes with laser accuracy, packed with ideas but not a note surplus to requirements, with frontman Nick Holmes’s portentous growl piling drama on top of the drama.

The volcanic glass the album takes its title from is said to protect against negative energy, and here Paradise Lost pull the same trick by turning the bleakness in on itself to create something beautiful. ■■■■■■■■■■

shot through with AOR DNA, and that’s the case on the majority of New World-New Eyes.

The present line-up, centred on original vocalist James Christian and the long-serving Jimi Bell (guitar) and BJ Zampa (drums), have proved their worth since 2005 with a stream of consistently good albums, and they don’t disappoint here. Feelgood rockers One More and The Both Of Us balance polish and power chords, Chemical Rush flips from a Zeppelin-eque riff into a slick, strident chorus, and there are accomplished performances throughout from Christian and Bell. ■■■■■■■■■■