**PIC Blur-endorsed Icelandic duo move from techno to post-punk on an itchy claustrophobic debut
Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster: Horse Of The Dog
Get your motor running...
Clearly they have no plans to outstay their welcome. 'Horse Of The Dog' only lasts 26 minutes, and most of those are spent rehashing the deranged blend of At The Drive In, The Cramps and the [a][/a] which fuels them. Odds on the 'Disaster capturing the hearts of Mondeo-driving floating voters remain slim.
That established, on this form their crazed amphetamine psychobilly could clearly reduce any student union bar in Christendom to rubble. The guitars are loud, primitive and classic-sounding; the drums rub shoulders boisterously with the bass. And then there's wafer-thin singer Guy McKnight, who, more showman than shaman, does everything but bleed for the cause.
(i)"I keep falling through holes in the floor"(/I),he screams on 'Fishfingers', clearly remembering the time he attempted to walk the length of Brighton Pier. By a final 'Presidential Wave' it sounds as if the groups fenders are bent out of shape, their fan-belt's gone and Guy has realised he's not so much a ringer for Richard Ashcroft as well, Ian Astbury.
"(i)You gotta look into my eyes, baaaay-beee!"(/I) he howls as the band wade through an ominous blues swamp that threatens to leap out of the speakers and rip your preconceptions out one by one. Hmmm. The indie-'A' roads have been negotiated. The freeway of potential Cult-status lies ahead.Get your motor running...
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