The Hip Priests // Black Denim Blitz
Self Destructo Records
Recommended Track: Zero Fucks Given
Let’s find some leather and break the tether! – lyric I have pulled from the forthcoming imaginary album the Hip Priests have yet to write.
Fuck, Shit, Booze and Piss seem to be the ever revolving themes in the hyper-concise rolodex of The Hip Priests’ repertoire.
Their recent release Black Denim Blitz starts out with police sirens sounding, machine weapons firing and half a glass full of Kick-Ass. Abounding punk beats (1-2-1-2-1-2) get you moving. They channel hardcore intensity with Misfits style song structure and incorporate early 70′s british new wave heavy metal/punk guitar work. Good music for a modern virgin sacrifice, yellow-speed Neo-Nazi shindig or your casual Bud™ swilling tail-gatin’ get-down.
Before we dive deeper I’d like to allow the self proclaimed band of “white trash bastard sons of Iggy P, Johnny T, Lemmy & Handsome Dick” to introduce themselves.
First up, “NATHAN VON CRUZ – YELLING, MOANING.” A prosaic brat out of hell with a sincere disregard for sobriety. Moaning the creed of his soul into grand amplification as heard within track 4, “Zero Fucks Given”: “No future, no fun, no girl no cum, no where, no deal, no shit, zero fucks given!”
Secondly, “LEE LOVE – SQUEALING, FILTHY BOTTOM END.” Brother can’t wipe, but man can he bump.
Next we have, “AUSTIN ROCKET – GROANING, LICKING, FURIOUS FINGERING.” The type of character you rue being stuck with as locker neighbor in gym class.
And finally, squatting in the depths of the stage, “SKINTIGHT TIM – BARKING, BOOZING, BEATING, BANGING.” Ladies, he’s single.
Track 6, offers sage advice with “Good things come to those who hate…sit back, ejaculate!”
YES!!!! Truly anthemic.
This is a lust not love, cum don’t cuddle, lick don’t kiss, black don’t brown out, professional shit show.
The album progresses, the focus stays the same, although: a mysterious female voice chimes in on “Treat Me Like Dirt” (Track 9). She offers a strong Benatar/Lita Ford vibe, adding to the otherwise lack of dynamic range.
But these Nottingham knights in Satan’s service aren’t in it for the richest of dynamics, most cunning of hooks or even a bronze medal in musicianship.
A clear explanation can be found in their Facebook Bio:
“Wasn’t ‘Rock ‘n’ Roll’ originally a term for fucking anyway? Wasn’t it fun? Provocative? Sexualised? Weren’t parents meant to say ‘Turn that noise down’? Yeah, they were…So get down, get dirty and hail The Breakneck Babylon Babies, The spleen exploding Sermonisers of the Sacred Sexualsonic Psalms, the Crazed messiahs of deep-fried bone rattling rock ‘n’ roll! The Righteous King Rockers of in your face Rock ‘n’ roll Bukkake.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Hot girls and pretty boys…the biggest Dicks in Rock ‘n’ Roll… The Sonic Reproducers….The Hip Priests.”
Lasses and Lads, girls and boy toys, leather lovers and vegans alike, if you’d dare indulge in a raucous evening of head smashing, unprotected love making, well-whiskey swigging mayhem, please, I beg of you, let the Hip Priests be your well traveled guides into the realm of excess, wherein you can produce a bit of your own brand of “Evil Sweat” whilst panting, hot in sin, on all fours, before your very own “Motherfucker Superior.”
Good lord, I need a warm bath and an hour’s worth of bamboo flute guided meditation. G’day.