Thursday, October 24, 2013

Cadaver Dogs

Cadaver Dogs
Columbus gunk punks Cadaver Dogs are equal parts Hellacopters/Supersuckers/ZZ Top/Danko Jones piss and vinegar — but what separates them from the rest of the rock heap is their undeniable swagger — both recorded — not only does the "Superloose" vinyl rip, it's a limited number out of 666 copies and comes complete with a Cadaver Dogs "midnight black" condom and download card for all you computer geeks; but also live as evidenced anywhere in the past month on their U.S. tour. 
They're everything you want in a live rock band — energetic and bombastic, but with the songs to back it up. The lyrics are sharp and passionate. The riffs are as subtle as a brick shit house in tracks "super loose & turbohigh," "Sunglasses" and "Buy Me A Shot." Most of "Superloose" is the sleaze-rock soundtrack to robbing a liquor store and kidnapping sorority girls. 
But it's not all just sex and drugs. There's quite a bit of reckless love and heartache here as well. 
"Only Blue" is about as gut-wrenching as it gets. You don't write lines like "It's not enough to say you're tough then get mad because shit got rough … baby I just wanna be free … it didn't work and it sure won't now," unless you've lived it. 
Closing track "Trippin" is the road-worn and weary rock anthem of the last decade. The entire album is like dousing everything in sight with gasoline, then "Trippin'" is the lit match that fucking blows it all to pieces. 
This is the rock 'n' roll album of the year. 10/10 — B.J. Lisko

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

The Crunch

Busy Making Noise

Ex-and current members of Diamond Dogs, Sham 69, Lords of The New Church, The Clash, and Cockney Rejects deliver 14 filler-free tracks of unashamed three-minute verse/chorus/verse anthems .  Punchy hooks, crunchy guitars, short-sharp shocks, it’s exactly what you’d hope a band called ‘The Crunch’ would actually sound like. 

There’s always a risk that by putting too many three minute power-nuggets together you end up with a sort of homogenous mass where the whole becomes less interesting than the sum of its parts.  Thankfully The Crunch easily side-step this problem by throwing in a few curveballs here and there to mix things up.  Mostly though, great songwriting and high energy rock n’ roll with hooks is the order of the day.  With debut album material as good as ‘Busy Making Noise’, ‘Down by The Border’ and ‘Gangster Radio’ let’s hope that The Crunch is more than just a one-off experiment. 

- Reviewed by Alex Eruptor

Jonny Cola & The A Grades

Album Review: 'Spitfire'

Having previously reviewed the double A-Side ‘comeback’ single released earlier this year I was intrigued to hear this latest album from Jonny Cola and the A-Grades album when it landed on my desk.  The debut album ‘In Debt’ was released way back in 2010 which is a long time in rock n’ roll, and new album ‘Spitfire’ was lucky to see light of day at all, the band having been on-hold for a year whilst frontman Jonny Cola recovered from a life-saving operation.  Having successfully avoided being killed by death, JC&TAG set about making up for lost time, writing and recording this album as well as successfully tapping up their fan-base to part-fund it.

What does it sound like? Well there are some loud and proud vintage Bowie and Mott The Hoople melodic and camp-ish rock n’ roll, some low-down sleazy Rolling Stones guitar riffing, a hint of Hanoi Rocks and London Marquee Club circa 1980s, a pinch of post-2000 new wave inspired garage-indie that wouldn’t sound out of place next to The Libertines, and a few some epic big production moments for good measure. In other words: Catchy hooks, stomping glitter rock, punchy powerpop, and tight but loose rock n’ roll guitar are all on display, making for a sound that is somehow trashy, arty, retro and modern all at the same time. 

Beginning with the sound of an aeroplane (presumably a Spitfire) things then kick straight into top gear with ‘In the Woods’ followed swiftly by the singles ‘Tropical Beach’ and ‘Straight to Video’. The latter works better in the context of the whole album than it did as the lead-off single, in my humble opinion: An epic, dynamic and well produced centre piece.   Pleasingly the quality control is maintained throughout all 10 tracks and ends on a high with the melancholy but uplifting Bowie-ish piano led closer ‘Out of the Woods’ (see what they did there!?).

Available as a digital download, CD or good old fashioned vinyl album, but check it out for yourself as the whole thing can be heard as a stream via:

- Reviewed by Alex Eruptor

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Black Metal: The Music of Satan

A Bill Zebub Production

Relase date: 2011

"There is nothing racist about being proud or proud of your ancestors."
- Grutle Kjellson

One man; one mission. New Jersey native and metal film and magazine editor maniac, Bill Zebub kicks his flick off with a Norseman helmet inside Black Metal's home domain, Norway with a solid, cryptic Black Metal cast that outnumbers and surpasses plaque survivors over causalities. King Diamond, Cronos, Grutle Kjellson, Tom G Warrior, Dani Filth, Abbath and members from Darkthrone, Satyricon, Fintroll, Kreator, Marduk, Immortal and Gorgoroth join the assembly for a retrospective, roundabout ranting, raving review and glance at capsizing the hidden demeanor of Black Metal's origins without the glossy, superficial touch finish of corpse paint and Satanism. From afar Black Metal: 'The Music Of Satan' sounds like a dark theatrical musical starring, Pan the goat and other mythical creatures of a foreign abyss of Black magic metal lands. Turns out, its a HIGH, metal class comedy, and Bill Zebub's talent really pans out from behind the camera, as much as, he toils with controversial beliefs and questions in front of it. His journalism method speaks volumes to an audience of like-minded, B-movie rats within an Indie art rat race. Before Black Metal dissolves into thin frosty air like a talentless flake, Bill Zebub has captured some amazing footage of an era that spent more time bad mouthing the labels, press and controversy than they spent bad mouthing them or each other. What essentially unfolded as four hours of hell on a digital versatile disc, in reality took Bill through of saga of letdown emails, events and circumstances that he avoided weeping too many black tears over. The outcome is effective and quality is above average while it even comes with extras and deleted scenes that promise a hit of nitrous from Black Metal laughing gas splices and outtakes. The storyboard doesn't lose fluidity, and mad props for Bill Zebub for not losing his sanity while exploring the natural highs and lows of bi-polar music and film producing. Today, you will find him still inspiring or conspiring against Christianity and hypocrisy through multi-media outlets without limitation except for those possibly in favor of sodomy. Check out his entire filmography on his own website listed below, and either love or hate him. If any director is ultimately inspired by the depths of other's happiness or depression, they would do better at commercials or videos for chemicals and corporations than producing something of substance from a direct inner interest and influence.

Scenes from Pagan Metal documentary are also thrown into this mix of Black Metal commentary coming from direct stories of members who either lived it, acted out with it or created it. Not a moment of footage went to waste in the interview airtime. Camera mics are even, discretely interlaced and placed in scenes, like a black metal blooper moment not to be missed. Actresses, models and porn stars are welcome along with the total fill and assemble for male and chick film. Some of the finest, Black Metal live performances witnessed in the East Coast can be observed from a flat screen TV with your metal boots propped up on Black Metal TV dinner plate, which consists of spaghetti arteries underneath of a very rare, passionate meat. If you're looking for glitter and glam, look elsewhere! This is a bloody true, grim story of little faith, and just how far it can get you in the featured present and/or afterlife.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Reckless Love - Spirit

Reckless Love

Reckless Love wear their 80s rock influences on their lip-stick stained sleeves which coincidentally aren't even there. That's without question. 
Now, the big issue with bands doing the 80s nostalgia thing in the present day, is so many simply don't deliver. It's basically a lot of eyeliner, a hot chick or three the band happens to know in the video, and ultimately a bad attempt to re-create the bright lights and big hair of the Sunset Strip. 
Finland's Reckless Love follow many of these same formulas. 
The difference? They in fact do it better than many of the bands they're paying tribute to. 
Look, "Spirit," much like the band's previous releases, has some serious similarities to big hair hits of the 80s — specifically Def Leppard, Motely Crue, Van Halen, Poison and a few slightly more obscure. 
But until now no other band has captured exactly what the album title implies – the spirit. 
It's all been looks and no substance. 
Don't get me wrong, if you're not familiar with the band and you go You Tube-ing at videos, you're gonna get the 80s looks and cliches down pat. 
But it's the hooks that matter. 
Anyone can get the 80s look down if they try hard enough, but not many can sing better than Vince Neil, David Lee Roth and craft better hooks than Nikki Sixx in his prime. 
Again, that's the point — Reckless Love do it better. 
"Night On Fire," released earlier this year as the album's first single, was a perfect prelude. It's the standout track, but not by much. "Bad Lovin'" is total Motley Crue circa '88, and "I Love Heavy Metal" is so close to Poison's "Unskinny Bop" they may have a lawsuit on their hands. 
Somehow I think Reckless Love would not only show up to said lawsuit dressed to the nines, but would probably perform on the bench and turn the court case into an all-day party and eventually have sex with the hot female judge. 
There's big ballads like "Edge of Our Dreams" and "Hot Rain."
There's more rock ala "Sex, Drugs and Reckless Love" and "So Happy I Could Die."
This is the catchiest batch of songs of any genre I've heard since Butch Walker's "Left of Self Centered" some 10 years ago, which is damn good company. 
Right now, Reckless Love are only an overseas commodity, but maybe, just maybe, if America gets its head out of its ass long enough to admit it actually loves catchy songs like this, and quits hiding behind trends and peer pressure, they'll have a chance here. 
If not, check them out in the meantime at If the 80s is your thing, this is the best band doing it even among the staples still touring. — B.J. Lisko

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Flash Metal Suicide: Huey Lewis

1983, Capitol

Huey Lewis has balls. Big fucking balls. He has to. First off, he goes by the name Huey. Huey is a Disney cartoon duck. Hell, it sounds like some sort of weather condition. Boy it sure is “Huey” out today. That or some sort of geriatric disease. “Had to go to the doctor and get a prescription. I got a bad case of the ‘Huey.’ Yeah, they say it might fall off.”

Now, name alone isn’t what gives Huey his rock ‘n’ roll street cred, heavens no. Huey’s also packing the News. What’s the News? Huey’s minions are the News. Doesn’t matter if it’s good or bad, it’s the fuckin’ News jack. And the News is made up of musicians who are all probably better than most of the stuff that gets plugged in Flash Metal Suicide kingdom. Honestly, when was the last time you heard anyone cover a Huey Lewis and the News song? Believe me, I’ve tried. I’m into cheese, no matter the flavor. And whether or not it’s Raven, Ratt or Huey Lewis, they just don’t write ’em like that anymore.
There’s too much going on to cover a News track. You would need six guys, all of which who could sing their asses off and play a variety of instruments. No one sounds like Huey Lewis and the News except for Huey Lewis and the News. The classic lineup consisted of Huey on harmonica and vocals, Johnny Colla on sax, guitar and backup vocals (which I’ll elaborate more on later), Bill Gibson on drums and backup vox, Chris Hayes on guitar and backups, Sean Hopper on keyboards and backups, and the greased-up bassist that looked like a cross between Emilo Estivez and Patrick Swayze in “The Outsiders,” Mario Cipollina. The News was, and still is as tight a band I’ve ever seen (Yes, I’ve seen the spectacle live). It sounds like six different bands at once, but somehow behind the signature Huey vocal stitches together like some sort of Member’s Only jacket with rhythm.

Perhaps the ballsiest moves of all are the names Huey gives his albums. “Fore!,” and “Hard at Play” come to mind. But the album I’m going to focus on for this here piece is the one and only “Sports.” “Sports?” How in Christ’s name did they think up “Sports” as an album title? That would be like calling your album (insert random noun here) and totally sticking it to the world by going multi-platinum with it. It’s exactly what Huey did. All this in the same decade that brought us Bananarama, Flock of Seagulls, Billy Ocean (who’s song “Loverboy” is boss, by the way), Debbie Gibson, Spandau Ballet … the list goes on. Simply put, Huey could call his album whatever the hell he wanted because even though he had numerous No. 1’s on the Billboard charts, he was unlike anything or anyone at that time or even now, and he’ll forever earn respect from musicians and MILF’s alike for actually playing instruments (sans a drum machine or two in the studio) and putting on one hell of a live rock show.
Let’s delve in, shall we? Opening this 80s pop rock ‘n’ roll masterpiece is perhaps Huey’s most famous and recognizable tune of all time, “Heart of Rock ‘n’ Roll.”
“The Heart of Rock ‘n’ Roll is still beating, in Cleveland.”
I’m from just south of Cleveland so I don’t know that I agree with that. But what Huey says is the fuckin’ News, so who am I to argue?

This song is just plain sick. It’s a drum machine and a bass line, with accented guitar, saxophone, keyboards and harmonica. There’s no main riff line here. Huey’s vocal carries it. For all you rock bands out there. Try to play this song. I dare you. It’ll blow your mind. There’s rock, rhythm and blues, jazz and pop all going on at the same time. How does it work? I don’t know, but it does for the News and it’s a damn swinging rocker if I ever heard one.
“At two o’ clock this morning, if she should come a calling, I wouldn’t dream of turning her away.”
“Heart and Soul” was Huey’s first big hit, although the Hue and co. didn’t pen it. It was written by Mike Champman and Nicky Chinn, whose resume included Sweet, Suzi Quatro, Mud and Smokie. What starts off as a cheesy keyboard line, turns into Flash Metal riffdom. Listen when the guitar kicks in. Again the main base of the song is drums, keyboards, bass and Huey. When Hayes does come in on guitar, he doesn’t fuck around – just hits a thunderous A to D chord progression that knocks you into next week.
“Went uptown to see my cousin, play his guitar sound like a chainsaw buzzin,’ in the crowd I see his mom and dad, I say hey, hey uncle, man your son is bad. Cool is the rule, but sometimes bad is bad.”
Huey’s the shit, and he knows it. If you suck, he’ll tell you. If your stew sucks, he ain’t eating it. And if you, dare I say it, cheat on the Hue, he will thwart you in this song.

“I want a new drug, one that won’t go away, one that won’t keep me up all night, one that won’t make me sleep all day.”

I’m sure Huey got his fair share of tail in the day. Hell, still probably does. Clearly an ode to sex, “I Want a New Drug” was so catchy fuckin’ “Ghostbusters” ripped it off for its theme. Huey won the court battle for it though, so suck on that Ray Parker Jr. Dick.
“Sometimes in my bed at night, I curse the dark and I pray for the light, and sometime’s the lights no consolation… Labeled as freaks, lose on the streets of the city.”
My personal favorite Huey Lewis track, “Walking on a Thin Line,” is pretty much nothing but bass and drums, but damnit if Huey didn’t pull it off with his vocal lines again. This is catchy as all hell, but like many Huey songs, doesn’t cross the path of unbearable pop music.
Granted, the Hue has put out a lot of tracks written for him that are pretty God awful (“Doing It All For My Baby,” “Stuck With You,” “Do You Believe in Love” – which was actually written by the one and only Mutt Lange), but though with his best songs he’s always close, he does manage to walk that thin line – just slightly on the side of rock ‘n’ roll where he belongs.
“Everybody needs a place, even if it’s on a stage, everybody needs a race, something to help them turn the page.”
The Hue gets a little preachy in “Finally Found a Home,” but you wouldn’t know it disguised under the upbeat acoustic guitar, driving bass and accented riffs. Not one of the albums strongest tracks, but no one in the 80s did a full album that was good.
“You been thinking, and I been drinking, we both know that it’s just not right.”
If other Flash Metal acts can have their ballads, so can Huey – and “If This Is It” is his crooning masterpiece on “Sports.” Huey takes a shot at his female fans. A bit of “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus” advice. Okay, so this is total pop, a bit nauseating even. But the over/under on how much ass Huey got for writing this song is in the thousands. I’ll take a hundred on the over, please.
“You should see yourself in the mirror, with your leather lips and snakeskin shoes.”
“You Crack Me Up” is filler on an album that four songs ago already went platinum. Although the keyboard leading the way on here is pretty funny. I doubt this one ever made the live set. It’s pretty much pure 80s cheese, but again, Huey’s brand of cheese.
“Hey lord I’ve got ’em, I’ve got the honey tonk blues.”
 This song makes no sense to me other than I think Huey said piss on everyone, I’m going to put an upbeat country song to close this thing out. By this point, everyone had pretty much stopped the cassette, fast forwarded and flipped it over. This song sounds like it should be in “Bull Durham” when Kevin “Crash Davis” Costner and Tim “Ebby Calvin Laloosh” Robbins are riding on the bus. At least it’s only about three minutes long.
I’ve been called many things for my liking of Huey Lewis and the News. None of which have been particularly flattering, but I will say this. A while back on one drunken night I busted out “Sports” at a party and cranked the motherfucker to 10. Chicks love a guy with a sense of humor, and Huey’s had it right all along. That’s the News folks.

- The strangely unembarrassed BJ Lisko

Monday, July 22, 2013


Turbo Lovers frontman B.J. Lisko wears many hats. Okay, it’s usually just the one, but I’m being metaphorical here. What I mean is that he does a lot of stuff out there in Youngstown, Ohio: he is the current Editor-in-Chief of the Youngstown Pulse, he talked about hat-tricks and right hooks and flagrant fouls as sports editor of The Salem News for a while, he appears occasionally on a really great podcast called Movies About Girls (shameless plug), he reviews records for you right here on Sleazegrinder (another shameless plug), and, most importantly for you, sleazy reader, rocks his hat off in a slew of bands, most recently the Turbo Lovers.

(As an aside, I must confess to not knowing a goddamn thing about Youngstown, Ohio, so I used the magic of the internet to do a little research. The most interesting thing I found was this headline from a link on the town’s official website: “Youngstown's improbable comeback attracting attention and creating jobs.” So things are looking up for Detroit's baby brother, which is kind of too bad, since turmoil and toil generally beget kick-ass rock and roll.)

Speaking of kick-ass rock and roll, Hopelessly Addicted, the fifth full-length Turbo Lovers record, sounds like it crawled, spitting and snarling, straight out of the aforementioned turmoil and toil: nine songs about bad luck, booze, heartache, and the lamentable state of rock 'n' roll, backed by turbo-charged riffs, solid beats, and B.J.’s straining punk rock vocals. Two standouts for me are “No Chance in Hell,” which, unexpectedly, is a strangely hopeful cymbal-crashing, cowbell-clocking ode to keeping on, man, because that’s all any of us can do, and “All I’ve Got,” a sweet love song with a verse full of na-na-na’s (nonsense words will win me over every time). There’s definitely a fighting spirit in these Lovers.
You can check ‘em out live at a scuzzy bar if you ever accidentally find yourself waiting on a car part in Youngstown. Tell B.J. that Holly sent you and maybe he’ll tip his hat at you and buy you a beer. I also recommend that you buy a CD or download it on iTunes or whatever it is you do to listen to good music these days. Riot on, and stay sleazy.

Tuesday, July 02, 2013



Live Review: Fibbers, York (UK)

Bastrad, now there’s a cool name for a band.  Looking for something to do on a Friday night, my wife and I saw ‘em listed on the gig guide and the description also sounded pretty good.  Further investigation revealed that a) they are a local band, hailing from York, b) they’ve previously opened for a host of rock legends such as LA Guns and The Quireboys, c) tonight was the band’s launch gig for their new opus magnus ‘Riff Propelled Grenade’.

Clad in various classic rock t-shirts (Whitesnake, etc) the band begin proceedings with few audience teasing bars of Survivor’s ‘Eye of The Tiger’, a confident start that grabs the crowd’s attention.   Based upon the next couple of songs though, it was apparent that Bastrad’s original material leans towards the more metallic end of the rock spectrum.  The technical ability was good although some stronger hooks would have made an even greater first impression.

Something that impressed me about Bastrad was that they kept momentum between numbers.  Their talking drummer did a good job of interacting with the crowd whilst the guitarists and frontman tuned up between songs.  This avoided the awkward silences between numbers that happens at some local shows.  In fact the energy levels were kept high throughout and the crowd were suitably entertained.

Around halfway into the set Bastrad introduce the title track from their new EP, ‘Riff Propelled Grenade’ (great title!) and it was at this point when they really hit their stride.  Taking everything into account, the song in particular seems to define their sound (dynamic riffing, guitar hero solo-ing, and several mega-tons of untamed rock power).

For the remainder of the set, Bastrad were joined by guest vocalist Zakk (formerly of York sleaze rockers ‘Kid Ego’, currently fronting York clown-rockers ‘A Jokers Rage’).  The audience respond with a huge roar of approval and the set closes on a high. 

All in all a triumphant home town show for Bastrad and a great showcase for their new EP.  Check them out at

~ Alex Eruptor

Monday, July 01, 2013

The Ex-Bombers "The Tightwire

Cavetone Records Ex-Bombers
Analog is a lost art form. In an age of technological everything, instant gratification and an over-saturated musical markets, Charleston, Illinois duo The Ex-Bombers have said the hell with all of it. The 8-string bass and drum combo of Keri Cousins and Scott Walus is a mono (!) experience done strictly for the love of their craft. You can only get this on vinyl, and honestly, after listening to their "31-minute narrative" you wouldn't want it any other way. 
The record grooves with a sultry jazz swing like something out of a Tarantino flick. It's mood music at its finest — a true experience which requires dedicated listening. The way it used to be, you know? Back when record stores still existed, and people cared about the physical product. 
A top notch record and package. — B.J. Lisko

Flash Metal Suicide: Eddie Money

"I wanna go back, and do it all over, but I can't go back I know. — Eddie Money

Eddie Money lay motionless following a near lethal combination of vodka, cocaine and barbiturates. The year was 1981. As Money lay in a twilight state in the hospital, nurses administering dialysis and trying to get the singer's legs again functioning, "Baby Hold On To Me" came on the radio. 
"The nurses were singing it to me," Money said via phone from Los Angeles. "It was like these actors in green masks were singing my song. It was something out of the movies."
It took Money a year to recover and ultimately walk again, but once he returned he scored his biggest commercial success with 1982's "No Control," featuring the mega-hits "Shakin'" and "Think I'm in Love." He hit the stratosphere in 1986 with his duet with Ronnie Spector, "Take Me Home Tonight" and "I Wanna Go Back."
But it was never all instant successes for the New York native. 
"I went to UC Berkley in San Francisco and I would play all the disco bars with all the big shoes, and pants and all that other shit," he said. "I learned a lot of disco is incorporated in rock 'n' roll. I learned how to write then, and on the weekends I'd go back to playing the rock 'n' roll."
Money was a shrewd thinker from the start, bridging the gap between college radio and top 40. 
"I was the king of college radio," he said. "A lot of the critics were very smart, though. The records I would make were very storytelling and deep with heavy guitars. Then I'd have a track like 'Baby Hold On To Me' and it sounded nothing like the rest of the record. They figured I wasn't being a hundred percent. They'd say 'He always has a couple candy ass songs on his records.' Poppy songs. But I played both sides of the fence. I did it in San Francisco, and when I would go make a record I would decide to do the same thing."
The move has worked wonders for the singer/songwriter who has managed to straddle both commercial success with rock 'n' roll respect. 
He's also done it without drugs or alcohol since 2001. 
"People used to ask me how did you OD? — I said it was free," Money now says with a laugh. "I tell everybody I quit drinking and everybody is happy. Everybody but me," he joked again. "But even before I got sober, whenever I worked I never drank beforehand. I did my shows straight. I used to drink too much after, and smoke too many cigarettes, but I never stuck a needle in my arm. I never did percocets or vicodins. I did blow like everybody else did in the 80s. Nothing Huey Lewis wouldn't do."
Money's sense of humor runs deep. He's quick to tell a joke between nearly every question he's asked, and although he takes his performances and music still very seriously, a Bronx charm and candid honesty separates Money from many performers who emerged superstars from the decade of decadence. 
Case in point, Money's ability to laugh at himself in an absolutely huge Geico advertising campaign. The spot features a family at the fictitious Eddie Money Travel Agency looking to book a vacation for four, while Money sings the chorus of "Two Tickets To Paradise" a-cappella. 
Although everybody seemingly loved the commercial and it gave Money the sort of credibility with practically all audiences ranging from new age hipsters to grandmothers, the experience turned out a little rocky for the singer. Mostly because his wife was supposed to be in the bit and the producers left her performance on the editing room floor. 
"Originally when I did it, it was a tape deck a little old lady was pushing the button on, and I'd sing along with the tape deck," Money said. "And this lady was a famous broadway actress, but I had to turn around and fire her and get my wife in the commercial. She gave me the dirtiest look! So anyways, it takes my wife like five hours to get ready to do this fucking commercial, and they used the last one I did which she wasn't even in. When people ask her what she thinks of it, she says 'He sounds pitchy!' She was so pissed." 
Despite newfound success on the small screen, Money's passion is still very much in writing and performing. He's currently working on material for a new album, and his summer tour will jet set him across the United States. 
"It's the same thing now performing as it was for me back then (in the 80s),"  Money said. "I have a lot of great fans, and the music takes everybody back to a certain place and time. Guys used to tell me, 'Man I got so much pussy when your songs came on back in the day.' But I don't need to hear any of that. I'm just very, very happy to hear that they love the show. I can still sing the songs like I used to, and we got us a great band." 
Visit for more information.  

The Eddie Money/Ronnie Spector collaboration
"'Take Me Home Tonight' was such a bubblegum song, if I didn't get Ronnie Spector on it I would've never done it," Money said. "I called her up and I heard a bunch of clinking and clanking. She was doing the fucking dishes. So I told her to put the fucking dishes down and said we have a song called 'Take Me Home Tonight' that has a double chorus and we want her on it. It turned out great. But Phil Spector, who was in jail, he made sure she couldn't do it in concert. Can you imagine that? Not being able to do one of your biggest hits in concert? That's what a fucking prick he is. Phil Spector, controlling from the fucking death house!" — B.J. Lisko (article originally appeared in Youngstown Pulse Magazine, June 2013). 

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

The Eruptors/Culo A Boca: Fuck You Pretty! CD split (self-released 2011)

The Eruptors begin the split with two 2-minute punk songs worthy of a serious moshpit thrashing in "Hearts Burnin'" and "Worst Thing in My Life." I'm talking black eyes, a bloody nose, maybe even a broken arm. You'll be too pumped full of adrenalin to notice while you're in the pit, but the next morning, man, you'll be bruised and bloody. "Set the Controls to Destroy" (file under droning sludgedom) sounds like the boys were hanging out in a dank basement somewhere smoking pot and watching old Godzilla movies on a shitty tv with bad reception. It's only 3 minutes long, but seems infinitely longer somehow. (Must be the drugs.) And "Curse of the Leprechaun" is, I'm pretty sure, an Irish folk song on acid. The Eruptors finish things off with a live version of "One Minute Decision." I don't know where they recorded this, but the crowd is going fucking wild. I imagine spilled beer, pumping fists, good friends and good times.   

Culo A Boca (Spanish for "ass to mouth") hails from the San Francisco Bay area and dubs itself "your favourite vomit party band." I've never been to a vomit party myself, but if it sounds like this, I bet it's a pretty fun time. Like a twisted hybrid punk version of The Rezillos and Aqua (yes, you read that correctly), Culo A Boca songs like "Glory Hole" ("Surrender your culo!" shouts the chorus), "Rocketship," "Blowup Doll Rape Victim," and "I Wanna Puke" tear things up in a terribly amusing dirtbag-rockabilly style. "Dick in the Dirt" is my favourite, a psychobilly ode to giving a handjob/getting fingered in the back row of a horror movie a la my hometown's The Matadors. "Shanghai Switch" closes the record with a little surf guitar and angry punk vocals about drinking whiskey and (I think) leering at underaged girls. It's over so fast it's hard to tell.    

The CD split thing is kind of weird. I think that Fuck You Pretty! would work better on vinyl; the simple act of flipping the record would make the split more cohesive somehow. Still, both bands are a good time, and what is rock and roll about if not a good time? You can pick yourself up a copy from  


Monday, June 10, 2013

The Eruptors: Microwave Massacre

The Eruptors’ 2013 re-issue of 2009’s Japan-only release Microwave Massacre, featuring some old demos, some new demos, and alternative mixes of a couple of songs from Bad Time to be Having a Good Time, has been re-packaged with, according to guitarist Alex Eruptor, “a funky new cover.” (Check it out! Funky, right?)

The record opens with a deceptively gloomy spoken-word intro to “Cannibal Holocaust,” which is as dark and unrelenting as the movie the song takes its name from (“Who are the real cannibals?”), and then barrels out of the gate like one of the four horsemen of the rock ‘n’ roll apocalypse. The first third of the record is comparatively cheery, from rollicking punk rock sing-alongs “Go Faster!” and “Skate Fast! Die Hard!” to frenetic instrumental “Whoregasm.” Things get darker and more political with “One Minute Decision” (“I know the cost you’re paying/I know the prize you’re selling/I just got to find out why”). “Theme From The Eruptors” and “Oh Baby Baby” (my personal favourites) come straight out of the ’81 L.A. hardcore scene. (If the ’81 L.A. hardcore scene actually took place in England 25 years later and was rather more melodic. I like a little melody with my urgency.) The record ends with slow-rocker-jam “Tow the Line” and “Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!”, a blistering, beer-soaked rock song that would make me want to start a bar-room brawl, if I was the kind of girl who started bar-room brawls. (I’m not.)

Like good sex, Microwave Massacre is sometimes searing, sometimes sloppy, always fun. And over in less than 20 minutes.  

If you don’t live in Japan, you can email for a copy of your very own.

Eruptors! Eruptors! Go! Go! Go!

Sunday, April 28, 2013

Jonny Cola & The A-Grades
Straight to Video / Marlborough Road
Double A-Side Single

Jonny Cola & The A-Grades might sound like the name of a punk house band from some illegal drinking den in a slasher movie, and the title of first A-Side of this double A-Side platter, ‘Straight to Video’, even sounds like it might be about a low budget slasher movie.  But it’s not.  The A-Side is more like a melancholy David Bowie than a punk rockin’ Driller Killer and if I’m honest , it is a more artsy and camp/dramatic composition than I than I really know how to review. 

Flip it onto its back though and you get the AA-side, a neat power-pop tight-but-loose melodic guitar anthem entitled ‘Marlborough Road’, a real nugget of a track with suitably foot stomping chorus and on-the-edge guitar solo, more familiar to us leather jacket wearing garage rockin’ types.   Awesome stuff.

The accompanying videos show a story featuring all sorts of sleazy characters and surreal going on, culminating in a Jonny Cola and the A-Grades live show taking place in the sort of sleazy basement rock club that we probably all stumbled into at 4am at one time or another during our 20s. 

Overall, Sleazegrinding rocker types will probably want to gravitate towards the more rockin' ‘Marlborough Road’ side of this double A-Side, but check it out and decide for yourself:

~ Alex Eruptor

Kill for Eden 

This band seem to have been creating a bit of a buzz in classic/melodic rock circles, playing all over England, so the name was familiar although I’d not yet heard their music.  Well produced and neatly executed, Kill for Eden have technical virtuosity and a keen sense of melody that creates a contemporary classic rock sound providing an industrial sized platform for Lyla D’Souza’s powerful lead vocals.  There’s some well crafted dynamics on display with songs veering from from in-yer-face stadium metal riffing, foot tapping hook laden pop rock, taking in quiet/loud structures and clever instrumental layering.  All in all it is very well produced, intelligently constructed and sounds relatively big budget for a self-released opus.   The album opens and closes with two mixes of what appears to be the lead-off single, ‘Kerosene’,   which is catchy enough and probably the poppiest thing they’ve done, but also not the most representative of their sound.  The real rewards on here are found a bit deeper into the album; ‘Untouchables’, a heads-down rocker turns up the power, ‘Beige’ features an huge, angry vocal from D’Souza, and my favourite ‘The Evil That Men Do’ hits the spot with a soaring chorus.  Yes there are obvious elements of melodic rock and euro metal on display but there is also a side to Kill for Eden which clearly draws from alternative rock influences.  Elsewhere, towards the middle of the album, they get all Californian and you’d be forgiven for thinking that you were listening to a collaboration between 70s stadium era Fleetwood Mac and 90s glam grunge scenesters The Nymphs, with maybe a bit of Guns n’ Roses ‘Dust n’ Bones’ swagger and some monster drum beats lifted straight from 70s Brit glitter rock. There’s even a track called ‘Little Wizard’ which might just be the beginning of a whole new genre: HarryPotterCore. Good stuff.  Take a listen at

~ Alex Eruptor

The Crunch
‘Down by the Border’
Legal Records, to be released June 3rd 2013  

First glance at the cover shows four slightly familiar looking dudes sat around in a studio, a couple of acoustic guitars, and an image which somehow combines mod, old-skool punk, and 1970s rockstar burnout chic.  From the logo font and superimposed yellow, white, and blue Union Flag  I was half expecting Sweden’s answer to The Jam or The Who.  This estimate was not too far off the mark. Yes those four dudes are familiar, and should probably need no introduction to loyal Sleazegrinder readers; Sulo Karlsson is also singer with Sweden’s ‘Diamond Dogs’, and alongside him are Dave Tregunna (Lords of The New Church, Sham 69 etc), Terry Chimes (The Clash), and Mick Geggus (Cockney Rejects).  The two songs here show real promise, the vocals sound straight from The Clash and the music is tight, punchy, and well executed.  The biog describes them as ‘power pop’ and that’s a fair summation.  If you like those 1970s/80s Brit pop-punk Godfather’s such as The Clash, The Buzzcocks, and The Jam, then The Crunch will fill the modern day void very nicely.

~ Alex Eruptor

Sunday, February 17, 2013


Originally printed in Boston's Weekly Dig circa 2001(ish?)
Dedicated to Nikki Kulund, a true rock n roll prince, RIP. 

Death To The Boston Glam Mafia: Bloodshot

"Fuck humility, we’re awesome" - Veruca Salt
"Not sounding gay is kind of important in this band." - Tim Catz

With a look like vintage Nugent roadies running riot in Orgy’s dressing room and a sound like Deep Purple, T Rex, and Urge Overkill were all the same band, Bloodshot have taken a gloriously retrogressive detour on the rock and roll highway, leaving the aggro tyrants and sexless pop star clones in the dust. Cloaked in the timeless vestiges of soul, glitter and sin, and reeking of menthol smoke and heartbreak, Bloodshot are the kings of a whole new realm - Stoner Glam. Their line-up is littered with battle hardened veterans that fairly scream for parentheses - Tim Catz (vocals/bass - Roadsaw, Honeyglazed - "In the end, I had to pony up the cash for the coke"), Ian Ross (guitar - Roadsaw - "Ian brought the booze") Hari Hassan (keyboards/vocals-Roadsaw - "Hari’s got the pills") and Nicky Kulund (drums - Honeyglazed/DJ Motorcycle - "He just brought his bad ass self"), and their aim is simple and true. They are here to soothe the savages, seduce the ladies, and retire quickly in amphetamine splendor.

The hustle is on.

I dragged the cleverly initialed Tim Catz out at 9 in the morning to get the Bloodshot story. I Don’t remember where we went, but Guns n'Roses blared in the background and the scribblings of mental patients adorned the walls.

Roadsaw — what happened?
Hard to say. The love is still there, but without the cash to massage our egos with, the trip to the top gets rough.

Honeyglazed — what happened?
Too much too soon…like shooting stars, they burn bright, but fade fast.
I think it’s ridiculous that you guys broke up.
Well, let’s put it this way — I never had anybody cry at rehearsal before.

So there you were, slugging it out in the trenches of Europe with Roadsaw, and you thought, ‘solo project’.
Yeh, time to explore my softer side…it was in Europe, actually. See, here’s my theory on stoner rock. All the people I know that really like stoner rock also listen to Neil Young, T Rex, and Pink Floyd. Even on Roadsaw’s ‘Rawk and Roll’ record, I tried to get a keyboard player in to make it more Deep Purpley. I just figured that all these bands started to sound the same, and nobody was taking any risks, so we decided to try something different. I went up to New Hampshire all by myself and wrote 20 songs. I brought a 4 track, guitar, and a drum machine. I pretty much spent the whole summer smoking pot, swimming, canoeing, and writing. I’d just gotten off the road from Europe, and I had to get out of the city. It was the best summer of my life. It sure beat being in Allston, sweating my balls off and looking for something to do. And when I came back, I put Bloodshot together.

Bloodshot comes with a theme, a look, a vision…
I’ve always said, if you’re gonna steal, steal from the best. Gerry Raferty, Gary Glitter, Don Kirshner, and Kris Kristofferson from ‘A Star is Born’…. what we do in Bloodshot is something we did off and on in Roadsaw and tried to do in Honeyglazed; coordinate what we wear and put on a whole show.

Yeh, well, Roadsaw definitely had a solid rock look going on.
It was pretty half assed, though. For example, I don’t think that flannel and leather pants go together.
Right. The sound is pretty different too.
I think people are expecting a Roadsaw kind of Rawk sound. And it’s not.
It’s Glam.
I guess it is… It’s ‘Home Sweet Home’ by Motley Crue, basically.
You know what it reminds me of? With the hooky pop choruses? Everclear.
Dude, I hate Everclear.
Motherfucker, nobody hates Everclear.
You know what Hari calls that shit? Secretary rock. Like there’s all these chicks in their late 20’s who can’t listen to anything but WBOS at the office, and they go and buy Lenny Kravitz records, and watch VH1.
Wouldn’t they be part of your target audience? 29 year old secretaries?
The ones that aren’t married yet, yeh.
That’s the real question, Tim. That’s what it’s really all about. Does Bloodshot get the ladies?
Get them drunk? Yes. Get them to see the real man behind the mirrored shades, the tender heart behind the rhinestone studded denim jackets, to understand my pain when the stage lights go down? Well, that’s a whole other matter.
Well, as Axl once asked, where do we go now?
Seven figure record deal, separate tour busses and frequent trips to Japan, where we are huge. Oh, and new livers when they start cloning them. Really, I just want to age gracefully.

(Note: Bloodshot broke up, or turned into Quitter, or wandered off to LA, however you want to look at it.)
 - Sleazegrinder

Monday, February 04, 2013

Voodoo Vegas - "The Rise of Jimmy Silver"

Judging by the cartoonish cover art I was expecting something along the lines of the sleazy n’ greasy Dead Boys-meets-AC/DC buzzsaw garage assault of Electric Frankenstein.  Take a listen though and it becomes apparent that Voodoo Vegas’ have both feet planted firmly in the classic rock camp with little or no punk rock in the mix.  There’s a little bit of early 80s flash, a tad of late 80s LA sleaze metal, and a large helping of rootsy 1970s rock.  Think Marshall plexis turned up to eleven and a lead singer laying down the law on hot chicks, good times, and bad deals. 

Opener ‘King Without A Crown’ is promising, but the band really hit their stride on the next couple of numbers, ‘Bullet’ and ‘No More’, which blend the 70s and 80s influences really well.  The rest of the album follows a similar blueprint but mixes it up enough that Voodoo Vegas never repeat themselves.  There’s some good acoustic moments on here too which give the album a good dynamic.  The weakest moment is probably ‘Mary Jane’, whilst not bad, suffers a little from being a tad too clich├ęd for its own good, and nothing like as cool as Love/Hate’s song of the same title.  Overall though it’s a solid debut and demands to be turned up loud.  Let there be rock!

- Alex Eruptor
Related Posts with Thumbnails