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Die Wasted: Sleazy Nights Til Armageddon

One of the most openly psychotic bands in operation today, St Louis scuzzballs Die Wasted are clearly the offspring of some unholy early 80s sexual tryst between a drug-addled Crüe groupie and a spiky-haired, Discharge-worshipping street urchin. Sleazy Nights, their oft-threatened, finally released debut, is the sound of monster kids tearing their neighborhood to pieces, an ear-splattering slugfest of Motör-thrash, sleaze-punk, crusty, blackened noise, and drunken ranting. The clear hit is Sex, Drinks, And Aqua Net, if only for the sheer train-wreck thrill of hearing what sounds like a manic-depressive Hellhammer cover band take a stab at late-80-s cock rock. As an added bonus/hassle, Sleazy Nights appears to be a cassette-only (!) release. So you may have to go back to 1986 to dig out your old Walkman to play it. If you do go back there and you run into the old me, please ask him to brush his teeth more often. The dental bills are killing me. (⁷⁄₁₀)

Bitch Queens: Female Shotgun

A fistful of Swiss misters with a fearsome rock pedigree (Zamarro, Dogs Bollocks) offer up a tasty debut full of horny, hook-heavy Scandinavian action-rock. The Queens’ major draw is their confidence. Not even sketchy grammar (seriously, what could a female shotgun possibly be?) can deter them from playing like their pants are stuffed with dynamite. (⁶⁄₁₀)

Smoky Mountain Skullbusters: Somewhere There’s A Law Against Everything

These cranium-smashers from Arizona ply a singular form of berserk hardcore cowpunk that’s like the Supersuckers after they’ve been walloped with those Hulk-making gamma rays. A fun record, but I wouldn’t wanna BBQ with these good ol’ boys – I’m pretty sure they eat their guests. (⁶⁄₁₀)

The Give-ups: Gentleman’s Club

Surely you’ve heard enough fast, punchy, swaggering Midwestern punk rock to last a lifetime already. But even I was taken aback by The Give-ups’ determination to destroy their livers and their reputations in the community. This is catchy, obnoxious, two-chord fuck-rock. Every song is either about booze or how much they hate everything that’s not booze. (⁶⁄₁₀)

The Workhorse III: The Workhorse III

Two members of girl-powered Philly rawk institution Lisa Christ Superstar and the drummer from Limecell met in an alley one night, and… well, this is what happened. The Workhorse III play pulverizing, punky hard rock anthems about waging war on everybody. Only it’s a rocker chick with a banshee wail and stun-gun guitar sounding the charge. Bananas. (⁶⁄₁₀)

Came from the sky like a 747. Classic Rock’s least-reputable byline-grabber since 2003. Several decades deep into the music industry. Got fired from an early incarnation of Anal C**t after one show. 30 years later, got fired from the New York Times after one week. Likes rock and hates everything else. Still believes in Zodiac Mindwarp and the Love Reaction, against all better judgment.