HANK IV : IIIref. DISTRO
"Hank IV play desperate man-style punk in the vein of Minute To Pray-era Flesheaters. Throw in some of the sociopathic scorch of The Pagans and touches of earlier Siltbreeze satellites like Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments and you got a great pro-rock primitive, one that combines accelerated jams with gut-busting vocals and the kinda furious delivery that makes it sound totally non-contemporary." – Volcanic Tongue
"I don’t care how many goddamn cute hobo bands there are out there right now. Not two runny shits. There’s something Hank IV knows that few of other current 'of interest' bands realize and it’s a painfully simple thing: guitars were meant to sound like THIS not that (pick something). That’s as plainly as it can be put. This is twin-guitar punk rock in a class of its own, driving more than dueling, and hot sauce free. I’d say “power with taste” but then I’d have to kill myself. I will say that III is Hank Baby’s third and finest album yet and they are, in short, a band whose every move is worthy of your utmost attention.
For this record (their second for Siltbreeze), Thee Hanks opted to spend zero dollars and buried themselves deep inside their very own Shill Building studio for good long while. Sightings became scarce. Promises of 'work' being 'done' were made but who really knew what was going on? To be fair, The Shill has its fair share of distractions. Imagine Plato’s Retreat, except like a basement in The Tenderloin. I think they only went outside for sandwiches from the East Coast West Deli on Polk St. Like that one time in the street when Bob McDonald told me about that Venom single he owns for the 17th time. Pfffft…Bob, playboy, inventor (of “The Full Compliment”), and as powerful and confounding a front man as you’re likely to find ambulating in today’s scene. Hawnk Quatre (as they’re called in France) is both an exercise and exorcism for this hardcore guy from Bum Kon all grown-up.
Anyway, the result of their self-imposed exile is this album bearing the aroma of fuck you coupled with a faint flutter of fuck me. It’s 8 songs in 25 minutes of loud, angry, intelligent, all rock’n’roll punk and it’s from San Francisco. Beyond that, the rhythms actually have a rhythm…a loud, all-rock rhythm, in fact. It’s shocking and practically akin to reinventing the wheel ‘round these un-rocking parts. Great…and now the world’ll probably explode. Do I gotta pick a cut to exalt? “Down In The Dumps” springs forth. Hopefully the punks follow suit. Portfolio played it for me when I visited and he just sat back, smiling. I was too. It was creepy.” - Mitch Cardwell
"I don’t care how many goddamn cute hobo bands there are out there right now. Not two runny shits. There’s something Hank IV knows that few of other current 'of interest' bands realize and it’s a painfully simple thing: guitars were meant to sound like THIS not that (pick something). That’s as plainly as it can be put. This is twin-guitar punk rock in a class of its own, driving more than dueling, and hot sauce free. I’d say “power with taste” but then I’d have to kill myself. I will say that III is Hank Baby’s third and finest album yet and they are, in short, a band whose every move is worthy of your utmost attention.
For this record (their second for Siltbreeze), Thee Hanks opted to spend zero dollars and buried themselves deep inside their very own Shill Building studio for good long while. Sightings became scarce. Promises of 'work' being 'done' were made but who really knew what was going on? To be fair, The Shill has its fair share of distractions. Imagine Plato’s Retreat, except like a basement in The Tenderloin. I think they only went outside for sandwiches from the East Coast West Deli on Polk St. Like that one time in the street when Bob McDonald told me about that Venom single he owns for the 17th time. Pfffft…Bob, playboy, inventor (of “The Full Compliment”), and as powerful and confounding a front man as you’re likely to find ambulating in today’s scene. Hawnk Quatre (as they’re called in France) is both an exercise and exorcism for this hardcore guy from Bum Kon all grown-up.
Anyway, the result of their self-imposed exile is this album bearing the aroma of fuck you coupled with a faint flutter of fuck me. It’s 8 songs in 25 minutes of loud, angry, intelligent, all rock’n’roll punk and it’s from San Francisco. Beyond that, the rhythms actually have a rhythm…a loud, all-rock rhythm, in fact. It’s shocking and practically akin to reinventing the wheel ‘round these un-rocking parts. Great…and now the world’ll probably explode. Do I gotta pick a cut to exalt? “Down In The Dumps” springs forth. Hopefully the punks follow suit. Portfolio played it for me when I visited and he just sat back, smiling. I was too. It was creepy.” - Mitch Cardwell
paru le 9 novembre 2010
Bob McDonald - vocals
Anthony Bedard - guitar
Andy Oglesby - guitar
Chris Portfolio - bass
Scott Jones - drums
Recorded and mixed by Chris Portfolio at the Shill Building, San Francisco
Mastered by Bob Weston at Chicago Mastering Service
All songs BMI
Released by Siltbreeze Records, 2010
Bob McDonald - vocals
Anthony Bedard - guitar
Andy Oglesby - guitar
Chris Portfolio - bass
Scott Jones - drums
Recorded and mixed by Chris Portfolio at the Shill Building, San Francisco
Mastered by Bob Weston at Chicago Mastering Service
All songs BMI
Released by Siltbreeze Records, 2010
25,00 €
DISTRO
Configurations disponibles
Support | Prix unitaire | Quantité | LP 12" | 25,00 € |
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DISTRO
REVENGE OF THE MARTIANS : T-shirt A tribute to UNCOMMONMENFROMMARS (Vol. 2)
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20,00 €