Warmduscher is various London people hanging out and recording something they feel is Really Important no doubt aided and abetted by a truckload of cocaine. They contain members of the Fat White Family and Insecure Men and this debut full length has been described as a rock opera that could send you into outer space. For fans of S.M.A.S.H etc.
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Obviously it goes without saying that there's nothing I detest more than confident, cocaine-addled London bands. The sorts championed by those fellow snorting music press people still left hanging about since the decline of their 90s heyday. Initially Warmduscher are the very worst example. I mean look at them. Nothing on the first part of this record impresses either. At it's worst it is S.M.A.S.H, at it's very best it is Rocket From the Tombs, certainly Craig Higgins vocals have the duck-like squeak of early David Thomas as they quack on top of some off kilter down and dirty rock and roll.
I suppose their relentless sludge eventually wears you down and you start to reluctantly enter their world. The title track is somewhere between Beastie Boys and the Make Up. These are filthy tales from the dark side of life, dirty stories from places you never want to visit but moments of sweetness too, closer 'Summertime Tears' is a lovely neo-lit soul piece and sits within the confines of the album like a turd on a trifle. The majority is fuzzy riffing seemingly made by a band playing on a boat in heavy seas. It's a seasick, drunken sound but neither musically nor lyrically shows any real flair and invention. I'll grudgingly admit that it's a fairly unique album that over the course of it's existence takes you into another more grubby world that your own. But one I want to keep way at arms length.
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