Solid bass and drum interplay left the six-string free to resonate and groove around without being bound to a rigid part. Good songs otherwise but the vocals were flat.
Too punk for their own good, the Red Aunts fuckin’ rocked! Nothing is sacred when they have mics at their mouths. They insulted everything and everyone.
They ripped through song after song with a minimum of stage banter. The music scream a mile a minute, like a souped-up muscle car with the pedal to the floor,
Some may think that this gentleman is The Next Big Thing, but, all you struggling bands out there, take heart. If this man can get an audience, so can you!