Murder JunkiesWith the opening words “C’mon let’s see some tits” setting us up for half an hour of sleazy filth and depravity I couldn’t help but shake my head a bit. What was I expecting though, I did after all volunteer to review the new album by The Murder Junkies fully aware of the band’s history and their previous affiliation with the shit smeared provocateur of all things sick and unholy GG. Allin. It’s not like they found god or anything when he shuffled off this mortal coil to end up in hell possibly being the chief boil buster of the pimples on Satan’s sulphurous arse.

This is actually the third incarnation of The Murder Junkies or the third band bearing their name if you read between the lines but you really cannot begrudge their use of it as there is a hellacious authenticity behind them in the form of GG’s bro Merle in their ranks. Seeing the name Merle I immediately thought of The Walking Dead and was disappointed to note there was not a Daryl too but believe you me this is bona-fide trailer park trash music if ever I have heard it.

There’s all manner of big bouncing boobies, beer, meth, spirits and rawk n roll going on down here. The opener proves that the band play very simple three chord punk with a gruff whisky soaked growl from singer Harold (“PP Duvay”) Rogers complimenting the road-show. It’s one that trawls across the serial killer soaked plains of the good ole USA looking for various carnival attractions, freaks and other assorted barnyard oddities. If you look at the cover art see how many of the people on it you can name? If it’s not half you are probably listening to the wrong album. ‘Chicks Cant Rock’ with the words “tits and arse killed rock and roll” is the sort of misogynistic bad taste crap that one would expect from such a shock rock band but The Murder Junkies are not in this to make friends and listening to it and trying to hear the music rather than the lyrics I can’t help noting there are fair few riffs stolen from the likes of The Damned back catalogue going on here. I quite like the mad circle pit chicken dance romp of ‘Get Dead Real Soon’ you can imagine this causing a riot even if it does sound like it has escaped from cult film Suburbia, it’s a good old slice of retro punk.

As we trawl down the byways and highways of these 11 songs we bind with the long haul driver on ‘Road Killer’ which has some smokin’ guitar licks as it chugs along one hairy arm getting burned by the sun. There’s a delightful ode to Daniel Harold Rolling aka The Gainsville Ripper, there is no denying what they say about him being perverted but his nefarious crimes are recounted in a way that is far too cheerful and one wonders what even Macabre would think of this. As for ‘Shit Princess’ well she’s a damn durty gurl! ‘Who Gives A Fuck What You Like’ is rather a good message on an album that’s all done in the worst possible taste. It’s one to make you feel guilty for liking and one that makes you feel a bit nostalgic too; one things for sure Beavis And Butthead would have had a field day here.

That said it simply cannot get a higher score than I have given it after all it’s not like GG will be turning in his grave.

Uh oh, best lock up your daughters, apparently a UK tour is on the cards in the summer!

(666pack out of 10 Pete Woods)

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