The Royal Society





The Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster don't have the greatest name. Guilty as charged. They make up for it by being their own freak show. They once played a gig in a British warehouse with free booze and naked lesbian wrestling. On The Royal Society, there is an indefinable evil that that permeates every song. It doesn't help that lead singer Guy McKnight looks like a mental Richard Ashcroft. Their music is constant punk-goes-hillbilly, trashy heavy bass with deep Jim Morrison-meets-Nick Cave vocals. Aggressive but charming. They sound like they will eat you, stroke some nearby dead person's hair, stomp on some graves, and hit on you at the same time. Like a mixture of Bauhaus, the Cramps, Devo and the New York Dolls, plus some skulls for good measure. Lead track "Mr. Mental" goes a long way in explaining the band. Standout tracks are "Rise of the Eagles" and "Temple Music". The latter is a truly infectious song mixing '60s pop verses, scary whispering and a chorus that could be their catchiest yet, "And now I've ripped out yer heart, Dear. I got to throw it away". UK single "I Could Be An Angle" is helping spread the EMBLD fear from their home base in Brighton, England across Europe. If you want to kick it up a notch, try "Drunk On the Blood" or "The Men The Way Of The Stuff" on for size. They burn down the house, dance on the embers and cackle with glee. Wicked. Against the backdrop of feel good pop and VH-1 friendly rock, the Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster doom-n-gloom fiesta are the clowns that freak the sh*t out of you, yet you keep peaking through your fingers to see what's next.

The Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster
No Death / Universal

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The Royal Society