Rating:
* * * *
Like the Sex Pistols more than 30 years before them, British punks Gallows are shouting and spewing about the state of their beloved homeland. This venom is vented best on
Queensberry Rules
, which starts out stealth and Sabbath-like, before swinging into a lurching punk rock groove with singer Frank Carter spitting lyrics like "We will carve this cross into your chest, to remind you of this f****** mess".
While it's not quite volatile enough to incite a riot, or a music revolution like the Pistols, this second album from the Hertfordshire lads is brazen, passionate, and ruthless stuff. They share the same rough and ready approach of modern day bands like the Cancer Bats, coupled with the more mongrel tendencies of old school New Yorkers Unsane.
And Carter's pommy lilt sounds like a younger, more angry Lemmy. Apart from the acoustic opening and Robbie Williams-like serenade on
The Vulture (Acts I & II)
, there is very little relent to be had from his gruff, old-dog grumble.
The all-in singing choruses, like the chant of "we are the night", or the four horses rant during the melodic hardcore of
Death Voices
, are thrilling chest-beating moments. As are the scything guitar flourishes on
Graves
and the double-kick drum rampage of
I Dread the Night
.
Gallows are a rowdy, tough-sounding punk band making them a rare gem on the British music scene.
Scott Kara
The host has been spotted across the Atlantic post-election.