I hear hooky Priest in here, Blackout-era Scorpions, Bruce-era Samson, along with the vocal twang of that old Malice guy, and the humorous side of Helloween.
They’re not copyists like lotsa other Japanese bands, so they come out smellin’ nasty like a packed club and they’re tight enough to pull off rockin’ frenzy.
In a genre where every yelp and breakdown is as predictable as a boy band’s dance move, Park is learning to combine math rock flashes with powerful vocals.
Judging by their wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am pacing (nine songs, 27 minutes) and a gut feeling, I’d say these guys are old punk rockers who made a rock record.
Mi6 makes my Screeching Weasel records sound more soulful, my Strung Out records sound more tight, and someone else’s Blink 182 records sound more witty.
They claim it’s evil, as evil as three Bell Rays, a Streetwalkin’ Cheetah and an Excessorarie can get, as evil as a fun side project, if ya like surf rock.
The Shams kick ass pretty alright, they got this real primitive stripped-down sound, not really fuzzy or anything, more of a pre-psychedelic limey deal.