Uncle Acid & the Deadbeats

Giallo and gore. Found somewhere between blood rituals and desert death cults is the new theme of the latest studio effort by the titular Uncle Acid and his gang of deadbeats. This time around, we are thrust into a world of corrupt cops, serial killers, untouchable women, vigilante winos and people prone to creeping around during the night. A logical next step in the third official installment of cheap, sleazy tales! Right off, the listener will no doubt notice that despite a bigger budget and a renowned engineer, the band is just as raw and loose as they have ever been. Starting off our decent into madness is “Waiting For Blood.” It’s a rather straightforward, fuzzed-out, riff-filled, head-banger with an exceptionally face-melting guitar solo and razor-sharp vocals that pierce through the cacophony of the de-tuned instruments. An ominous organ sets the tone for “Murder Nights.” Giving subtle nods lyrically to Black Sabbath and at times musically to the original Alice Copper group, helps make this one of the LP’s stand-out tracks. “Downtown” provides some variation with a healthy dose of a not-so-incredibly-odd 6/8 time signature, which gives the song a swing. “Pusher Man” launches the listener head-first into the mind of a pusher, man. The brilliant use of backing vocals provided by Chantal Brown and a catchy, memorable chorus propels this to another stand-out track fit for hungry, live audiences. At this point in the listening experience, darkness has fallen and the Night Creeper prepares to earn his title. “Yellow Moon” serves as a much-needed interlude (or intermission, if you will). The band’s first instrumental is layered with acoustic guitars and a haunting mellotron that will make even the toughest of listeners check under their beds twice before shutting out the lights. “Melody Lane” again kicks off with the chords of an organ, which quickly transitions into a paradoxically dark yet upbeat riff. Lyrically, we are told of a seemingly harmless fellow who happens to follow the wrong femme fatale as his encounter with her proves, well, fatal. The title track credited to both Kevin Starrs and recently departed bassist Dean Millar reminds the listener that they are not out of the woods yet. A menacing riff and even more menacing words of warning  prompts one to ” lock up your windows and bolt up your doors.” The shortest song on the album, “Inside,” is a foot-stomper that wastes no time getting to the point and staying there for it’s short tenure. The prominent sound of tape hiss starts off  the last and longest song in our cinematic exploration of the seedy underbelly of dives, violence and drugs. “Slow Death” is layered with piano flourishes and a delightfully sloppy guitar solo, comfortably sitting over the repetitive groove established by the rhythm section, a slow-burning, but powerful close to the album. However a hidden track is waiting for the patient, the delicate acoustic-tinged “Black Motorcade” wraps up the LP in a bloody, but neatly-wrapped box.