Full Releases
FIRE! Die In It.
CHAPSTIK: ALIVE WITH IMAGES OF DEATH
One cannot extol the virtues of stoner rock enough, the oft-misunderstood and critically underappreciated subgenre of rock 'n' roll. In fact, by hurling fistfuls of thunder and speed, bands like Chapstik (in all their blue collar Thor glory) appeal to the baser self, the self that cannot resist the power of the head bang and the flashing of the metal sign -- the self that knows why it feels so good to be bad.
Chapstik is pure adrenaline.
Their latest foray into subversion is the album Fire. Die in it, a brutish cacophony of sternum-splitting bass and fiery vocals. It is, in a word, terrifying.
Barnburner
This city ain't pretty... so who are we kidding?
Detroit's absurdist dirt-rock freaks, Chapstik, who have withstood long tenure in the rock n' roll undergraound, has reared it's ugly head(s) once again on their 3rd full-length effort, "Barnburner" on
Unfortunate Miracle Records.
The one time 3-piece lo-fi/garage-punk outfit from San Antonio, now turned 5-piece Detroit-based low-end assault, has marched against the mighty winds and evolved into a multi-faceted rock outfit now referred to as "The World's Angriest Party band."
Think of The Melvins and Turbonegro sipping tea together. Think Zeke and Speedealer in a stained and padded romper room. Think of a bull in a china shop, where the bull politely cleans up after himself.
This is the madness that is Chapstik. Detroiters can call upon references from Speedball, Mule, and Mog Stunt Team 5 to Thrall and former labelmates, Easy Action.
The band collaborated with Detroit-based illustrator, Guy Allen to conceive the design of the new record, and the record also features two tracks with Ross Westurbur (500 ft. of Pipe, Aquarius Void) on
Hammond B3 organ.
The energy of the "Barnburner" record is as sleazy and contagious as a truckstop hooker. From the pounding metal cadence of "Cream of Everything" to the triumphant rock riffage of "It's 8:05" and "Twat's it to Ya?," Chapstik proves it's sound is as raw as it comes, and it's intentions are rooted in rock purity.
Chimingo
Whiskey Time
As raw and nasty as a dog bite on the ass, “Whiskey Time” serves up 17 shots of noisy, boisterous rodeo raunch direct from SatanAntonio, Texas. After a few good years of knocking about and raising hell, CHAPSTIK has refined their signature whomp, thock and twang into an unclassifiably hell-bending rock and roll experience.. Songs range from rockabilly-tinged, lo-fi howlers to devilish punk rockin madness and everything in between. Anthems for the nitrous crazed trailer trash bastards of America… Imagine three Texans wigged out on crank purchased from Mexican Satanists in El Paso fighting over control of the tape deck in the van… Hank Williams of Slayer? That’s CHAPSTIK. Get the picture? Wrecking a bar near you soon.
“Out of the blue comes a record that renews my faith in rock and roll. This may not be the best rock and roll record ever, but it comes close. Fast songs, lots of guitars and cool vocals. Garage rock with a tinge of rockabilly and an unpretentious attitude. Yeah!!” -Maximum Rock N Roll
Compilations
Hell Ain't a Place to Be: A Tribute to AC/DC
Collecting bands to pay tribute to these masters of rock isn't an easy task, but when you hear the Supersuckers or The Dwarves ripping up these tunes in glorious stereo, like the rumors surrounding Franz Liszt in his day, you'll think the Devil had something to do with it.... and maybe he did.
Somewhere in Satan's kingdom, drink in hand, Bon Scott is smiling, and with the advent of this release, the horned king's bidding is done at last. Intended as a high-voltage tribute to the finest exemplars of all things bad-assed, sweat-drenched, and stone cold deafening that rock has yet seen, Hell Ain't A Bad Place To Be assembles a true round table of dark knights in the sonic crusade against anemic, diluted, spineless music. Unlike most largely pointless and misguided corporate compilations thrown together by record execs doing thick rails of coke while on their cell phones, this is the real thing, the genuine article. No big hair, no sissified alterna-crap, no rap-metal crossover garbage, and definitely no korn; just a baker's dozen bands who have understood the AC/DC way of life, and method of rock since the word go.These are the true heirs to the throne. And with jaw-dropping, eye-popping artwork by renowned satanic high priest of illustration, Coop, and wicked-ass tattoo ink-slinger Dave Waugh, Hell Ain't A Bad Place To Be visually drips with sex, hard rock, and more sex. But don't buy it just for the large-breasted demon chicks on the cover alone.....this fucker rocks like hell, a real kick in the teeth for a music industry long gone sour from top to bottom. For those about to rock...buy this album.
FIRE! Die In It. EP
