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The snotty hyperactive nephews running amok at the bring-a-bong barbecue where Nashville Pussy, Orange Goblin and Fu Manchu are handing round the hot dogs, Melbourne sleazebags Mammoth Mammoth bring a peculiarly Antipodean vigour, humour and attitude to the fuzzy fundamentals of stoner rock’n’roll, joyously evident in lyrics like ‘I eat angel dust for breakfast then I microwave the cat’ from Turbonegroid biker rumble Fuel Injected.
Energised tempos, bratty pop-punk hooks and a celebratory jam-room atmosphere are sloppily nailed throughout the band’s fourth long-player in as many years; at times Mikey Tucker’s John Garcia-tinged vocals incorporate a touch of young Hetfield.
From raucous singalong Life’s A Bitch to closing epic drug-doom wig-out High As A Kite, the Mammoths’ spirited gusto is undoubtedly infectious, although at times these well-worn shapes struggle to escape the weight of their influences./o:p
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