I added an exclamation mark to the end of my vacation with back to back nights of alcoholic overindulgence and boy am I paying my dues today.
So you would think I’d be listening to something soothing, mellow and sublime, something to ease the jiggling mound of goo I call my brain. Fuck that noise, this is the Church remember?
So I opted to further mash my gray matter into a puddle of slime with Chateau Brutal’s, “Ham Slicer”.
This French garage rock duo’s second album is 10 tracks of rump rattling, ear splitting, foot tapping rawk and fucking roll. It’s the drunk guy at the bar who’s lost his pants and is screaming at the half-empty pint on the table to fill itself up again. Noisy, fast and frenetic, it’ll grab you by the nose and shake you until the screaming stops.
Take one porterhouse thick guitar tone, mix in a hammering percussion section and season with everything from turntables to saxophones. Then soak it in beer, rip it’s pants off and stay the fuck out of the way. It goes hard, but not on the sonic destruction front, on the “drink all your beer, then steal some more, then get laid, then find more beer, then steal a zebra from the zoo and get the police to chase you”…front.
Probably most comparable to the bastard child of The Eagles of Death Metal and Andrew WK, everything is as energetic as it is infectious. Short, frantic songs that are still packed with enough musical variety to keep even the pickiest ears entertained. Tracks like “Preaches” and “Chaise” takes plunges into the filthy tub of hybridized-aggressive-noise-rock-fusion. That is to say they do a bunch of weird musical trickery, quite loudly.
The majority of album sticks to the hard hitting garage rock grooves, spiced with the odd instrument outside of the dynamic guitar and drum duo. Lyrical everything is crude, sexual and immature. Dirty pick up lines crafted into some truly danceable tunes, you don’t need this to be deep and introspective.
In short “Ham Slicer” is a well crafted slab of garage rock, dripping sleaze and sauced with shenanigans.
You can get your grubby paws on it from iTunes for $6. Which is fucking cheap folks. So lets GOOOOOOO!
And here’s the video for “Meet My Meat”, which shows what happens to lonely butcher shop employees and their love lives.