I don t care how many goddamn cute hobo bands there are out there rightnow. Not two runny shits. There s something Hank IV knows that few othercurrent of interest bands realize, and it s a painfully simple thing: guitarswere meant to sound like this, not that (pick something). That s as plainly asit can be put. This is twin-guitar punk rock in a class of its own, drivingmore than dueling and hot-sauce-free. I d say power with taste but then I dhave to kill myself. I will say that III is Hank Baby s third and finest albumyet and they are, in short, a band whose every move is worthy of your utmostattention. For this record (their second for Siltbreeze), Thee Hanks opted to spendzero dollars and buried themselves deep inside their very own Shill Buildingstudio for a 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, exceptlike a basement in the Tenderloin. I think they only went outside for sandwichesfrom the East Coast West Deli on Polk Street, like that one time in thestreet when Bob McDonald told me about that Venom single he owns for theseventeenth time. Pffft Bob, playboy, inventor (of The Full Compliment )and as powerful and confounding a front-man as you re likely to find ambulatingin today s scene. Hawnk Quatre (as they re called in France) is both anexercise and exorcism for this hardcore guy from Bum Kon all grown-up. Anyway, the result of their self-imposed exile is this album bearing thearoma of fuck you coupled with a faint flutter of fuck me. It s eight songsin 25 minutes of loud, angry, intelligent, rock n roll punk and it s fromSan Francisco. Beyond that, the rhythms actually have a rhythm a loud,all-rock rhythm, in fact. It s shocking and practically akin to reinventing thewheel round these un-rocking parts. Great and now the world ll probablyexplode. 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 andhe just sat back, smiling. I was too. It was creepy. Mitch Cardwell Hank IV plays desperate man-style punk in the vein of Minute to PrayeraFlesheaters. Throw in some of the sociopathic scorch of The Pagans andtouches of earlier Siltbreeze satellites like Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartmentsand you got a great pro-rock primitive, one that combines acceleratedjams with gut-busting vocals and the kinda furious delivery that makes itsound totally non-contemporary. Volcanic TongueDL code with the LP! San Francisco band s third album. Recorded for $0.00 and mastered by BobWeston at Chicago Mastering Services the highest-fidelity shit in the Siltbreezeexosphere!Music video for Garbage Star thisOctober; there s even a freaking Stereolabcover on the album, for crying out loud
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