Strange House
As live bands go, The Horrors are just about the most exciting and entertaining act around at the minute. Their shows are riotous, mesmerising and, truth-be-told, darn scary to boot. Add to this a series of now-collectable EPs and it's plain to see why these kohl-smattered lads have gathered such a gaggle of resolute fans beneath their charcoal cloaks.
Yet it seems that with this, the South London confrontationalists' anarchic debut LP, they're unlikely to win many new ones. But then, who really cares with such a jaw dropping effort? Not these fad-shunning rapscallions, that's for sure. These Horrors cats are playing for themselves and to hell with those who don't get it.
Hanging from the rafters of Dickensian orphanages, it's a ferocious assault of the senses - 11 tracks of thunderclap guitar, halloween organ and ghostly growls and shouts channelling a plethora of delightfully obscure inspirations from Screaming Lord Sutch to The Birthday Party.
From uber-director Chris Cunningham's favourite ‘Sheena Is A Parasite' to the obsessive compulsive driven ‘Count in Fives'and ‘Gloves', this is a pure psych-garage freak out, a brilliant wave of dirty surf-rock crashing on the shore of a very British kind of rockabilly.
Release: Album
To Cure: An empty dancefloor
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