Fat Bastard 2018
Belgian band’s second offering brings about an array of raw delights for body and soul.
If you think it’s difficult to be furious about affairs of the heart because they make one soft, there’s a proof it’s not too hard – and it’s too so hard to get hard, either, for FB – yes, this foursome seem to know the power of acronym – are so Orgasmatron-bound you’ll have no other option than to join their ride. After all, the ensemble are fueled, as the finale of “Junk Yard Fest” posits, by blood, sweat and beer, and even the late Lemmy would relate to that, as well as to the album putting a lot of wild vigor in the seven songs which won’t cross a 30-minute mark yet will leave a lasting burn on your skin.
From Jorn Mazet’s a cappella roar leading into “Dead Mean Charlene” to the end of the record, the songs emerge heavily laden with relentless riffs and grooves that prompt the listener to feel around for a juicy rib – or, in case you’re male, for your own rib: this might be the bone a heroine of “That Girl Was Hot” was made of. While Jan Sommeryns’ six stings pour lava-like rock ‘n’ roll licks all over “Hotrod Summer” and smooth punk spikes of other tracks, motorik rhythm section propels it all towards sweet release, but infectious stompers “Where Me Is Us” and “Dead Man Walkin'” pack more serious, expletives-ridden punch. No wonder, as bluesy tradition is what’s behind “Roadrunner” whose swagger has great dynamics attached to the quintet’s interplay, perfect ingredients for the dirty festivities the band promised from the start.
Hopefully, given the album briefness, the lads won’t take another half-decade of grind to deliver a follow-up to this smasheroo.