badguys

“Recorded in a snake pit, in a quarry, on top of a mountain, in the desert, at night, during a thunderstorm.” London-based, multi-national four-piece Bad Guys sure know how to spin a yarn, and humour wraps around ‘Bad Guynaecology’’s greasy, rotten core like engine oil. You can taste the sweat that comes oozing off this album; it’s a dive bar, basement brawl of a record, like Pissed Jeans’ ‘Honeys’ with more jokes.

Frequently hilarious in lyrical content (the opening – and fucking fantastic – ‘Crime’ is about shoplifting a Tonka Truck from Toys ‘R’ Us), sonically it’s swaggeringly grotty and full of grime and grit, moving from ’70s traditional metal to its primal stoner core, to almost Les Savvy Fav-esque pop-noise. It’s refreshingly lacking in self-awareness and Bad Guys are clearly a band led by nothing more than primal instincts and a desire to rattle your skull with monster riffs and crack your ribs with ridiculous lyrics. The closing ‘No Tomorrow’ is a non-stop twelve-minute psych-rock powerhouse, ending the album riotously, just as it begins.

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