Swingin’ Utters are not a watered-down version of anything, and they’re not over or under-produced. They sound exactly the same as the bands in the late ’70s.
Thoughtfully constructed and marked by extended repetition of strange rhythms, letting them settle in and become a groove before trying to mess with them.
Supple really tore me up, like Pinhead in Clive Barker’s Hellraiser. Hooks shooting out of nowhere, hitting their mark and tearing at those soft spots.
The vocals range from the wounded beast lament of Paradise Lost to the sultry moan on Celtic Frost’s Into The Pandemonium. Two violinists add a touch of class.
Stranglehold were an important band with a place in early Boston hardcore history alongside Gang Green and the F.U.’s, who somehow got lost in the shuffle.
Taking material from Tattooed Millionaire (when he was still in Iron Maiden) and Balls To Picasso, Dickinson puts out a double album of live performances.
Some dippy ballads mixed amid guitar hero acrobatics and wild production tricks (think toned-down Gibby Haynes). Hyped as Lenny Kravitz meets Matthew Sweet.