Goddamn, let’s get some riffs going, shall we? Robot Death Monkey, one of the finest exports from Scotland are back with a killer new EP of songs, focused on tripping major balls, Asgardian gods, dragon private parts and those huge mammoth things from Tatooine.
*Crushes beer can into head* Let’s get Neanderthal! Wrong are from Miami and are interested in riffs, riffs and more riffs. Made up of ex-members of Kylesa and sludge-pop titans Torche, Wrong are channelling the sweaty, bleary eyed, disgruntled, yet still party-animal instinct of early Kvelertak, alongside the down-tuned hum of Unsane and that snarl of Helmet.
I’d put money on Bare Bones enjoying the occasional drink or 17. Hailing from Sydney, this is a five-piece ultimate party train, hammering at your door, brandishing several kegs of beer, wondering why the fuck has someone not put Motley Crue on the stereo yet. What hits you about Cut Throat Living is how abrasive and breathless these six songs are.