Sleaze Round-up: February 2013

Sleazegrinder on new releases from Bloody Hammers, Sideburn, Spacin', Claw Toe and Torpedohead

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Bloody Hammers: Bloody Hammers

It has become quite obvious in the past few years that rock’n’roll without Satan is rather like sex without alcohol: a dry and lifeless thing. Luckily, North Carolina church-burners Bloody Hammers have arrived – in black hoods and on fiery steeds, naturally – to lead us back down that thorny left-hand path. If their name doesn’t clue you in to the ghoulish wonders within their self-titled album, than the be-demoned purple-an’-black album cover certainly will. You take a greasy fistful of Sabbath, a skullcap’s worth of Roky Erickson, add pretty much every Hammer movie filmed between 1967 and 1972, and you’ve got this bubbling cauldron of sleazoid, lysergic bikerdoom. Coffin breakers like Witch Of Endor and the awesomely bleak Last Legion Of Sorrow lumber and lurch like the fog-shrouded nightmares of a 70s pinball wizard, but under the thick wall of gloom there’s some surprisingly catchy songwriting at work. A fine soundtrack for a weekend of wickedness. (810)

Sideburn: IV Monument

Since we last spoke with Swedish face-fuzz enthusiasts Sideburn, they’ve discovered the exquisite joys and terrors of 70s prog. The results are slathered throughout the expansive IV Monument, twisting their ‘Nam-era riffola into a crazy quilt of gatefold double-album excess. I like it. It’s like Mountain, if they suddenly learned how to do math. You won’t leave the couch for days. (610)

Spacin’: Deep Thud

Philly’s own Spacin’ are not here to complicate matters, they’re here to jam on Stooges riffs in the basement until the beer runs out. On Deep Thud, they offer up half-a-dozen hand-clapping, balls-tripping doses of Detroit-forged fuzz, and then they curl up in the corner and sleep it off. If you like dropping out of shit – like school or society – you’ll dig this. (610)

Claw Toe: Claw Toe

Disturbed (and disturbing) death-punks from Chicago, Claw Toe hammer bargain-bin industrial beats, garage-punk guitars and shredded-larynx vox into a bizarrely sexy collection of druggy, dead-ender party anthems. This is what it would sound like if a bunch of lower-tier slasher movie villains got up and jammed for a room of quivering would-be victims. Panic-inducing, in a good way. (610)

Torpedohead: Greetings From Heartbreak Key

German dudes with an affection for sugary pop-punk hooks and record collections stacked with GN’R and old Stones albums. Songs like Love Is A Dog and Bleed On Me burst out the gate and ping-pong around the rooms. There’s some acoustic bullshit here too, but most of it is straight-up action-rock. Would go well with a night of dangerous antics. (610)


Came from the sky like a 747. Classic Rock’s least-reputable byline-grabber since 2003. Several decades deep into the music industry. Got fired from an early incarnation of Anal C**t after one show. 30 years later, got fired from the New York Times after one week. Likes rock and hates everything else. Still believes in Zodiac Mindwarp and the Love Reaction, against all better judgment.