Formed in 2010 from various other local bands, TN, USA (but based in that sludge mecca Atlanta GA) , Uncle Touchy state on their band bio that they 'just want to make your stomach turn'.It's as basic and brutal a mission statement as you could hope for in an age where every man and his eight string bass playing dog is making concept albums about solar cycles and the like, and , in these ten pleasantly unpleasant tracks of noise rock filth, one can find a perfect escape from all things lofty and high minded.It also rocks , just a bit.
.Opener ' Body Hammer' is as low and fast a gut punch as you could hope to open the album, spastic rage belted out over some awesome syncopated riffing. 'Tiretread on Burst Stomach' follows with some supremely sick , fuzzed out bass that segues into a sludge rock monster reminiscent of a sicker(if that was possible) Melvins, before the album breaks out of the traps with a psychotic fury , taking in skewed grunge rock , angular , Jesus Lizard style riffing,and pure snotty punk rock fury.'Soft Skin' sets your lizard brain a tingling with warning signs of an approach of bad , bad juju, , with a jittery , staccato DEP esque riff underpinning a highly disturbing refrain of "He has his hands in your baby's pants", clearly the work of men who truly couldn't give a fuck about mainstream acceptance.'Forced Out' is a rock and roll monster, while 'Shithawks at the Dinner' is all smouldering , subdued menace, and bobbing, feverish bass. 'Dimebagged' meanwhile is the sound of Anthrax being buggered by the hicks from Deliverance, an addictive thrash riff coasting along on a spiteful chant of "You folks are all so fucking lame".Closer ' The Sensual Yet Forbidden Pleasures of the Ladyboys of Thailand' rounds off the album with a skin crawling ode to said 'ladies' of the night', that makes one worry about the leisure time activities of these Southern dirt bags, but nevertheless rocks like a bastard, and hints at a band that can not only abuse their various instruments , but also play them quite well when they want to.
Make no mistake, this is not pleasant music.There are no chest bursting stadium anthems, or lovelorn desert rock groove- alongs to coast into the sunset to.This is nasty, confrontational stuff, grunge before the money men got involved, a sneering, 'fuck you' to suburban alienation and rock and roll cliches , made by anti social, unfriendly men who sound like they would rather pick a fight with you then creep on your girlfriend than shake your hand after a show.It's also rather brilliant,a searing love letter to punk rock's hey day, when the term meant slightly more than selling teenager's own angst back to them on a forty quid hoody. Go on , make em famous.That'll really piss them off.
For fans of : The Melvins, Black Flag, Unsane, Tad, McClusky, The Bronx, Amen