Music Review

05 July 2009 01:26 BST

The Bronx: The Bronx III

Wichita Recordings, out November 26th.

In a nutshell...

Satisfy your hard-punk hunger with this rack of riffs and break-knuckle beats.

What's it all about?

West Coast noise crew, the Bronx, return with this their third self titled album. A half hour or so of fast paced progressive harcore punk that has little more than just a hint of rock n roll through it. The Bronx have tempered their delight in writing audibly testing tracks very slightly and produced something rounder and a little less abrasive this time around, but don't expect to fall asleep listening to this. Two new members have been added following James Tweedy's departure with Ken Horne joining on guitar and backing vocals and Brad Magers taking up bass and vocal duties.

Who's it by?

LA has provided the fertile ground from which the Bronx have grown into one of hardcore's biggest names. Formed in 2002 the band were set upon early by hungry A and R types keen to latch on to their powerful, raw energy, but the band decided that big label success wasn't the route they should take and so set up their own label, White Drugs to release their records. Fast forward a few years and the band have released three albums and a handful of EPs. Rumour has it the Bronx will be releasing an album's worth of mariachi music after this so if you hadn't already dabbled in the world of fist-in-the-face full on rock then perhaps now is the time to cut your teeth, and perhaps split a few lips too.

As an example…

"And if I ever get the time to control my laughter, much to everyone's surprise I will kill my master." - Minutes to Midnight

Likelihood of a trip to the Grammys

Stepping on to Wichita recordings, home to Bloc Party and Conor Oberst, could prove to be a wise move for the Bronx boys, but inviting them to the Grammys would be like inviting a the Ginger Bread man to a Weight Watchers meeting: carnage would ensue. Hardcore rarely looks good in a tux and bling so the Grammys might be off the list, but this album packs so much explosive skull-cracking rage that you just know these guys know how to let their hair down and it involves much a-smashing and not a lot of schmoozing.

What the others say

"It's still a brilliantly sleazy punk rock 'n' roll album that feels, sounds and smells just like you want the Bronx to be, and the fact it's so pure and elemental works strongly in its favour." - Ben Patashnik, NME

"Certainly the LA punk mob have a free-spirited approach to life – as rebellious and American as the Stooges or Jack Kerouac – and every bit as compelling." - Emma Johnston, Observer Music Monthly

So is it any good?

The muscle and arrogance of Rocket from the Crypt mixed in with a fire breathing front man in Matt Caughthran makes this an utterly addictive record for its sheer force and fight. It's a menacing melee of glam, garage and gutter punk all fighting to be heard and the result is a sleazy power rock masterpiece. There are riffs here that will no doubt have the new generation of Guitar Hero champions reaching clammy handed for their plastic axes and shredding themselves stupid. Hints of early Alice in Chains and desert lurkers Kyuss make this more than a one trick hardcore noise-fest and it is the perfect 'get the f#*k up and do something with your life' album. The DIY production is impressive and Dave Schiffman (Mars Volta, System of a Down) has done much to help bring this bare-chested beast to heal.

8/10

Ross McTaggart