Sleaze Round-up: Summer 2011

Sleazegrinder on new releases from Chuck Norris Experiment, Juliet’s Vice, Dogs Bollocks, 180 Proof and Brokendolls

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Chuck Norris Experiment: Dead Central

Much like their namesake, Sweden’s Chuck Norris Experiment are concerned only with cracking skulls. This preoccupation informs every move they make on Dead Central, from their collaborators (veteran sleaze-queen Texas Terri guests on berserk opener Psycho Man) to their choice of cover material (Killed By Death) to every snarly guitar lead and gangland chant in between. Swedish by blood but global in scope, CNE’s sound/unholy racket is part MC5 and part Dead Boys, but mostly it’s a rain of fist blows and groin kicks. The riffs are like machetes lopping off heads, the choruses rabbit-punching their way right into your brain. There’s no let-up. Everybody in the band is named Chuck, and they dress like Scrooge McDuck’s nemeses The Beagle Boys, but all that’s just window dressing. The meat of the matter is the songs, and this record’s got ‘em. Bone shattering! (810)

Juliet’s Vice: DGAF

The problem with most sleaze rock bands is that, despite their musical tributes to debauchery and destruction, they are usually sweethearts in real life. This is not the case with Philadelphia’s Juliet’s Vice. They revel in their villainy. They are monstrous thugs in eyeliner, and their music sounds like a cross between mid-period Crüe and a strip club brawl. Authentically nasty business. (610)

Dogs Bollocks: New Saints

The best (and quite possibly only) Swiss/Brit/Mexican rock’n’roll band, DB spew up a remarkably self-assured second album full of cocky, crunchy, hook-heavy, Danko Jones-esque super rock. The album’s centrepiece is clearly Queen Of Fucking Everything, but you can drop the needle anywhere and find a party going on. (710)

180 Proof: The Gutter Sessions Part 1: The Filth / Freedom Overture

This brief but eventful four-songer is all balls-out, punk-fried, 70s-era AC/DC scorch played by snotty Aussie brats. It’s an unapologetic middle-finger of a record, punk in the true and literal sense. (710)

Brokendolls: Two Fifty Nine

They sound like Turbonegro with the glass-shard screecher from Crank County Daredevils upfront, but Brokendolls are neither Norwegian nor rednecks. They’re Italian, and they’ve just released one of the funniest, most outrageous records of the year. The twin guitars are majestic, the vox are incredibly obnoxious, and the lyrics are amazing. ‘Shake my dick/right in your p***y’! Haha, really? Killer. (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.