ALBUM: Bad Guys ‘Bad Guynaecology’

Rating:

With all the grace and gristle of a petrol station pasty, Hackney rawk trolls Bad Guys deliver a big, fat slab of sweaty, cave-man metal that leaves you jumping up and down on your bed, pounding your bare chest and screaming: “Prostitutes are making love in my garden!”

Revelling in their own ridiculousness but riffing, thrashing and growling as hard as any gang of dark screamo overlords, second album, Bad Guynaecology, is the sound of Jack Black fronting Judas Priest, as these four hairy, pot-bellied dudes with double-necked guitars kick out ever-increasing layers of heaving, grizzly, tongue-in-cheek rock thunder. It may be full of one-liners and head banging silliness, but it’s not for the faint-hearted.

Made not with hipster irony but with a spirit of daft, raucous fun, gravel-lunged frontman Stu takes on such weighty, life changing topics as the time he stole a Tonka truck from Toys ‘R’ Us (‘Crime’), the story of Hungarian explorer Zoltan Takacs (‘Zoltan Snake Hunter’) and, yes, the problem he has with ladies of the night using his back porch to entertain their punters (‘Prostitutes’). Skipping with Motorhead’s swagger, Pissed Jeans’ snarling indifference, Andrew WK’s infectious, gonzo goofballery and a heap of homages to the hard-shredding ’80s axe gods, it all ends in 11 minute, Satanic psych rock odyssey, ‘No Tomorrow’, that purges any lasting trace of shy, indie-boy innocence from your being.

Turn to eleven, throw away your Belle & Sebastian records and embrace the mighty, grinning ballast of it all.

Bad Guynaecology is out now via Riot Season.

Kevin Irwin

@TrotterFist

Kevin Irwin

Kevin Irwin

Kevin Irwin

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