By Cancer Bats
Canada has given us some damn fine music over the years, especially it seems, in recent times. From Billy Talent to Alexisonfire right through to er... Sum 41 and Nickelback, Canadian rockers just keep on coming. Joining the ever expanding ranks are Cancer Bats, blasting from the north in a whirlwind or blood, puke and filthy riffs.
Coming across like a less polished Every Time I Die, the band fuse old school rhythms with gang vocals and a penchant for pinch harmonics. The riffs just keep on coming, opening track "Golden Tanks" getting off on the right foot in gloriously emphatic style, the darkly hued harmonies and punker-than-thou intent lay the foundations for something truly special. Where Cancer Bats excel though is the riffs. Not since the heady days of the boogie fused rock of AC/DC has a band truly taken what rock and roll is about, pounded it into submission and truly created a monster. Punk is all well and good, but this band sound genuinely dangerous. Like The Bronx gone thrash metal, "Birthing The Giant" sticks old school metal, southern boogie and the snottiest punk and hardcore into one big melting pot and emerges with a party (albeit one with a few broken teeth).
The album continues as it started, "Butterscotch", "Death Bros" and "100 Grand Canyon" effortlessly piledrive you to the ground, while "Shillelagh" throws in a few off-kilter time signatures and jarring chords (reminiscent of label-mates The Bled) and never lets up the aggression, naturally. In short, It's Punk Jim, But Not As We Know It.