The best Sleaze you can get this month

Sleazegrinder on the latest releases from Pussycat And The Dirty Johnsons, Watts, Charm Bag, Flash House and Gone Dogs

Caption: Pussycat And The Dirty Johnsons: a sweat-soaked trip to the heart of rock’n’roll

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Pussycat And The Dirty Johnsons - Ain’t No Pussy

First of all, let’s hear it for lead screamer Pussy Johnson’s pronounced British accent, as snotty and venomous as Rotten’s back in the spring of ‘77. Her impressive snarl and full-throated roar rule the day on this fast and furious ride of primitive, gut-bucket garage rock and boot-stomping, grrrlpowered punk. Tracks like Pretty Good For A Girl and One Of The Boys deliver a pretty effective message of rock’n’roll equality while basically smashing your skull into splinters. Surrender My Heart is the clear pick to click, a searing Kinksmeets-Stooges orgy of corrosive riffs and bump-’n’-grind voodoo rhythm, but there are plenty of highlights here, including the X Ray Spex-y poke-in-the-eye of Unserpentine, the floor-shaking, ear-shredding title track and the lean, stripped-down creepy-crawl of The Wasp. Imagine if Lux was Ivy and you’ve basically got the gist of this.

A thoroughly sweat-soaked trip to the heart of rock’n’roll. (710)

Watts - All Done With Rock n’ Roll

Stellar Stones-on-steroids four-songer from rock’s most well-dressed street survivors. From their salad days as teenage glam-slammers to their ill-fated stab at power-pop stardom in the 90s, Watts have always endured, and this tight collection of hook-heavy arena rockers finds ‘em at the height of their powers. (710)

Charm Bag - From Hell

Flash House - Brown Sauce

The cassette cover for this positively hairraising album features the bumpy head of a sasquatch, and that’s exactly the feral, wild-eyed figure I imagine when I hear this gonzo banger. It’s a howling, pulse-pounding barrage of incendiary noise that’s sorta like Motörhead, MC5 and The Hookers being eaten alive by werewolves. Tremendous. (710)

Gone Dogs - The Road Ahead

Sleazegrinder

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.