By Monk
If ever a band live up to their name, then it this bunch of Danish rawk ‘n’ brawlers, who deliver a consistent “one-two-fuck-you” series of hammer blows to your chest, stomach, knees and aural cortices in one consistent sonic barrage of non-stop aural assaults that will get your head ‘banging, your toes tapping and your ears invested with worms for days, nay weeks, after their first invade every sense in your body.
Yeah, bais and girls, you can not only hear the grooves oozing from them there speakers but you can smell and taste the very diesel-soaked grist in which they are soaked, to the very last ounce of sweat poured into pedal-to-the-metal slice of good ol’ suvern revivalism, in an album which belies its geographic origins, given the authenticity of the sound which it produces and the feelings it subsequently evokes.
Yessir, if I hadn’t read the accompanying biog, I would have sworn these five good ole boys hailed from somewhere down Noo Orleans way… but, then, countrymen such as Volbeat have proven how wrong such preconceptions can be, and Suckerpunch are the latest in a long line of bands to prove that those Scandinavian boys, and their northern European counterparts, can most definitely, and defiantly, give thon bais from down south a more than decent run for their money… and, in many cases, leaving them trailing in their fast ‘n’ furious nitro-fuelled rearlights.
Fire up your engines, guys and girls, ‘cos you’re in for one helluva ride when these particular northern rednecks put the punch on the pedal… ‘cos they forget to tell you they cut the brakes!
- ‘Redneck Gasoline‘ is out now.
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