“Like Velvet Underground begat Lewsberg, like New York Dolls testube spawned Dick Venom, The Fall co-created Stuart Pearce. Never smarm-hate a band for their influences, love them for loving what your into…”
“There’s so much in the sonics and bones of ‘Believe’ that it’s hard to know just where start. It’s frustratingly clever, emphatically catchy, and just so damn easily accessible…”
A gutterslung duo of smoke-smothered sand-blasted southern-stomp rock. A raw dirtbomb squalor of holler and grind. Gnawed gurning riffs, hymn crushing hooks, and a mean blast of bloody punch drums.
“In this tight run of three minute snapshots of anger, each skewed by their knee jerk reflections, the very worst track you’ll here find is least favorite. This particular compact and pleasurable mess is the best that Slumb Party have sounded.”
They live in a haze of accidentally anthemic self-made and self-assured angst, where webs and threads of Bona Drag and Juju clean-jangled guitars (from Morrissey and Banshees respectively) weave like a network of nerves up and through.
“Each song sounds like a deep fear of drowning …and Every now and then, and just for a second, some sugar-dirt glimmer of sound slices through but we’re swimming in loneliness still.”
“Through mutations and lineups and 40+ years, The Stranglers are always The Stranglers; Always present, still moving, for better …Or worse.”
“40 years worth of love and half blind adoration has gathered us here to sing to hymns from ‘The Crack’; The Ruts ’79 debut album. Thick with punk’s grit and gristle and dub-reggae tricks it’s a head above pure protest thrash.”