Drenge:
Drenge:
Infectious:
Out Now:
9/10
As song number three on Drenge's eponymous debut-album fires up, I'm reminded of many comparables - The Minutemen, Dr Feelgood, Queens of the Stone Age, Nick Cave, Helmet and Suzi Quatro for five - a testament to just how varied, solid, explosive and visceral this pair can be. Yes, they're young, yes they're noisy but, yes oh yes, they can rack up a line of tunes, riffs and attitude that borrows from the past and hurls it, bawling, into the future.
Drenge couldn't really come from anywhere else other than Britain and, despite their occasional dip into internationally-renowned musical waters, are not a fly-by-night group of plagiarists struggling for an identity. They've been building up a considerable reputation for their live shows for the best part of two years and the brothers Loveless show no sign of letting up - all twelve songs sound capable of delighting venue sound-engineers and blasting the eardrums of many a fan. British in all but the name (Danish for 'boy', apparently).
Right from the off, Drenge the album is a splash and dash of short, sharp rockable little shocks that contain little flim-flam but plenty of oomph. The singles Bloodsports and Backwaters have already laid down the foundations for what's to come but other worthwhile highlights include the new 45 Face Like a Skull (there's a bit of Dinosaur Jr, Dumptruck and Wolfmother in there somewhere), I Don't Want To Make Love To You (an arch anti-song response to the sumptuous jazz standard with the more alluring title) and the aggressive I Want To Break You In Half. Pretty much the entire album is over and done with in less than thirty minutes, until the rather more brooding meander of Let's Pretend permeates the senses for eight long, languid minutes and the gentler Fuckabout smoothes things over musically, if certainly not lyrically - "I don't give a fuck about people in love". Quite.
There's US punk-rock chops and dirty Southern blues-rock rubbing thighs together throughout the album, culminating in an ejaculation of middle-fingered guitar anthems and crashing, crushing drum-work all over your ears. You've gotta get you some Drenge.
Drenge:
Infectious:
Out Now:
9/10
Drenge couldn't really come from anywhere else other than Britain and, despite their occasional dip into internationally-renowned musical waters, are not a fly-by-night group of plagiarists struggling for an identity. They've been building up a considerable reputation for their live shows for the best part of two years and the brothers Loveless show no sign of letting up - all twelve songs sound capable of delighting venue sound-engineers and blasting the eardrums of many a fan. British in all but the name (Danish for 'boy', apparently).
Right from the off, Drenge the album is a splash and dash of short, sharp rockable little shocks that contain little flim-flam but plenty of oomph. The singles Bloodsports and Backwaters have already laid down the foundations for what's to come but other worthwhile highlights include the new 45 Face Like a Skull (there's a bit of Dinosaur Jr, Dumptruck and Wolfmother in there somewhere), I Don't Want To Make Love To You (an arch anti-song response to the sumptuous jazz standard with the more alluring title) and the aggressive I Want To Break You In Half. Pretty much the entire album is over and done with in less than thirty minutes, until the rather more brooding meander of Let's Pretend permeates the senses for eight long, languid minutes and the gentler Fuckabout smoothes things over musically, if certainly not lyrically - "I don't give a fuck about people in love". Quite.
There's US punk-rock chops and dirty Southern blues-rock rubbing thighs together throughout the album, culminating in an ejaculation of middle-fingered guitar anthems and crashing, crushing drum-work all over your ears. You've gotta get you some Drenge.
