THE GENTLEMEN "Stick To Your Guns: CD :
This new full length album by these brawling, fiddling, banjo and mandolin strumming Appalachian Paddy Punkers arrived in my mail today like a guinness soaked special gift from the Celtic Gods of War.
Not only does this West Virginia-based Paddy Punk band grab you by the balls and make you want to both Pogo and dance a ceilidh jig while swinging the mighty musical shillelagh at scabs, nazis, fashion punks, emo-kids and your landlord, but they Rock like Joe Strummer and Luke Kelly teaming up with Shane MacGowan and Mad Dog McGuinness of the Popes, with Dee Dee Ramones playing bass, to gang up against all musical infidels and trendy bastards to form a Paddy Punk union, standing strong against the pop-Punk poseur scabs and their corporate puppet masters, and to dance to the destruction of Punk Rock Stars and phony corporate rockers. The Gentlemen are another rowdy reminder that Paddy Punk is alive and kicking in Amerikay, and The Gentlemen are a powerful example of down home, homebrewed Celtic Punk that is REAL and unforgettable.
If the ass kicking musical prowess of The Gentlemen weren't enough to make you a die hard fan, this briliant album captures the spirit of working class Irish-America, with a fury and intensity that will rock your home stereo like an Irish car bomb , and is packaged like musical semtex ready to detonate , with a rumble-ready prole on the cover wearing a scully cap who proudly bears a bloody nose and a look of disdain and "what you looking at, motherfucker?" on his bristly mug. Even better however, is the back cover, which shows a riot squad copper about to confront rioters. Hence, these powerful images give you a forecast on the riotous musical behavior exhibited by these Gentlemen.
Beginning with "Intro/Embarassment", a thundering introduction to a blazing hot album by a band that I am confident is definitely one of the best Punk bands in the USA,and probably worldwide, given time. With a no holds barred approach, this West Virginian eight piece mob combine old school Punk/hardcore ferocity with the beauty and grace of Irish traditional and Appalachian mountain melody,and with this hammering Hillbilly-Punk cadence, the chance of you being bored or calling this storming album, uninspiring, is slim to none. This intro is a musical assault on nazis, Bill O'Reilly, Britney Spears, MTV, and anyone else who is plastic, fake and/or disgenuine. The Gentlemen pull no punches and take no prisoners. You gotta respect that.
Next "Don't Mind" storms on, with war drums that only Eire Og could compete with, beginning with the wise refrain;
"Sing with me brothers
Sing it loud and clear
Sing the songs of freedom
So that all can hear....
We must death-defy
In this world of devastation,
So grab a shot of whiskey
And look your brother in the eye!"
This Paddycore bombast blast hammers away at an overpowering pace, causing you to slamdance with a manic energy that knocks down walls and leaves many a bloody nose and blackened eye.
"War Time in North London" follows, kick starting with a brilliant bagpipe intro and a nostalgic pub sing-a-long that is reminiscent of Sham 69, The Pogues or the Cockney Rejects.
The Gentlemen prove that not only can they play to the high level of the aforementioned musical legends, but that they can also up the Punk ante, and put a new spin on that Street Punk sound. Drummer Zach Hogbin shines in this great song, with bagpiper Corey Forindi guarding the flank from plastic pop punk poseurs and corporate rock swill.No one fake can hang on that Punk Porch with the big dogs that The Gentlemen are. Roof roof !
Next, "Fat Tim's Life" is a fast and raucous musical onslaught on an enemy of the band, who is allegedly ; a wife beater and backstabber. Even though I don't personally know Fat Tim, this song is so kick ass and convincing that I am tempted toget involved and dropkick this Tim in the face, as this rowdy anthem plays on. Thankfully, however, I know better than to get involved with strangers personal disputes so I can only enjoy another smashing Paddy Punk track by the mighty Gentlemen with a shit-eating grin and a mug of stout.
Afterwards, "Belfast Boy" begins with a lean and mean fiddle introduction by Isaiah Richie, a gifted musician who really doesn't play around and delivers musical knock-outs in every song on this blazing album, and nonetheless in this grand Punk Rock tribute to the youth of Belfast City, and a moving bombast against the sectarian Police State in Northern Ireland. Stellar street rhythm meets Mountainman melody is The Gentlemen trademark street sound and what makes them so damn hard to beat.
"Under The Rowan Tree" follows, a great acoustic tune accompanied by Corey Forindi's tin whistle, a nostalgic pub sing-a-long song that is a robust tribute to the dearly departed and old comrades and friends of yore. Lead singer Matthew Lineham's snotty growl shines like an unopened full 40 ounce of porter left in an alley dustbin, shining like an emerald diamond in the rough and tumble, without a grumble or stumble, but ready for an alleyway rumble.
Afterwards, old Irish traditional classic, "Molly Malone" gets us in the mood for a wee bit of stout guzzling and ceilidh slamdancing in the midst of a ballroom slugfest complimented by some lean mean Paddy Punk boom boom.
"All Alone" kicks off next, with Corey Forindi's bagpiping introducing us to a fine Paddy Punk hardcore composition that would make Roger Miret or Harley Flanagan mighty proud, and this tune, while not my favorite track on this great album, it will get you off your arse to mosh against the posh andf slamdance against the poser prance, without sparing a glance at those who are lost in the proverbial punk rock time warp of 1977. Storming beats that thunder from the depths of Appalachia and bass back beat from the street that will cause you to move your feet,that is what The Gentlemen are most renowned for.
Not skipping a beat, The Gentlemen next do a hammering cover of old Dominic Behan classic, "Come Out Ye Black and Tans", that will make you want to burn Union Jacks while singing along to the powerful mountain-mayhem that only The Gentlemen can provide.
With the concluding song, "Sea's A Beauty", probably one of the best sailor's Punk sing-alongs I've heard yet, making me want to commandeer a schooner and make attendant wankers walk the plank. Hearken Paddy Punkers, because this ship is sailing to unknown stormy waters and only The Gentlemen can sail through the reefs without disaster and with a mighty melody that soars above the highest musical peaks like the peregrine falcon. Yes indeed, this Paddy Beat Heat from the Streets soars so damn high that it shall never come down.
http://www.myspace.com/thefreakingentlemen
This new full length album by these brawling, fiddling, banjo and mandolin strumming Appalachian Paddy Punkers arrived in my mail today like a guinness soaked special gift from the Celtic Gods of War.
Not only does this West Virginia-based Paddy Punk band grab you by the balls and make you want to both Pogo and dance a ceilidh jig while swinging the mighty musical shillelagh at scabs, nazis, fashion punks, emo-kids and your landlord, but they Rock like Joe Strummer and Luke Kelly teaming up with Shane MacGowan and Mad Dog McGuinness of the Popes, with Dee Dee Ramones playing bass, to gang up against all musical infidels and trendy bastards to form a Paddy Punk union, standing strong against the pop-Punk poseur scabs and their corporate puppet masters, and to dance to the destruction of Punk Rock Stars and phony corporate rockers. The Gentlemen are another rowdy reminder that Paddy Punk is alive and kicking in Amerikay, and The Gentlemen are a powerful example of down home, homebrewed Celtic Punk that is REAL and unforgettable.
If the ass kicking musical prowess of The Gentlemen weren't enough to make you a die hard fan, this briliant album captures the spirit of working class Irish-America, with a fury and intensity that will rock your home stereo like an Irish car bomb , and is packaged like musical semtex ready to detonate , with a rumble-ready prole on the cover wearing a scully cap who proudly bears a bloody nose and a look of disdain and "what you looking at, motherfucker?" on his bristly mug. Even better however, is the back cover, which shows a riot squad copper about to confront rioters. Hence, these powerful images give you a forecast on the riotous musical behavior exhibited by these Gentlemen.
Beginning with "Intro/Embarassment", a thundering introduction to a blazing hot album by a band that I am confident is definitely one of the best Punk bands in the USA,and probably worldwide, given time. With a no holds barred approach, this West Virginian eight piece mob combine old school Punk/hardcore ferocity with the beauty and grace of Irish traditional and Appalachian mountain melody,and with this hammering Hillbilly-Punk cadence, the chance of you being bored or calling this storming album, uninspiring, is slim to none. This intro is a musical assault on nazis, Bill O'Reilly, Britney Spears, MTV, and anyone else who is plastic, fake and/or disgenuine. The Gentlemen pull no punches and take no prisoners. You gotta respect that.
Next "Don't Mind" storms on, with war drums that only Eire Og could compete with, beginning with the wise refrain;
"Sing with me brothers
Sing it loud and clear
Sing the songs of freedom
So that all can hear....
We must death-defy
In this world of devastation,
So grab a shot of whiskey
And look your brother in the eye!"
This Paddycore bombast blast hammers away at an overpowering pace, causing you to slamdance with a manic energy that knocks down walls and leaves many a bloody nose and blackened eye.
"War Time in North London" follows, kick starting with a brilliant bagpipe intro and a nostalgic pub sing-a-long that is reminiscent of Sham 69, The Pogues or the Cockney Rejects.
The Gentlemen prove that not only can they play to the high level of the aforementioned musical legends, but that they can also up the Punk ante, and put a new spin on that Street Punk sound. Drummer Zach Hogbin shines in this great song, with bagpiper Corey Forindi guarding the flank from plastic pop punk poseurs and corporate rock swill.No one fake can hang on that Punk Porch with the big dogs that The Gentlemen are. Roof roof !
Next, "Fat Tim's Life" is a fast and raucous musical onslaught on an enemy of the band, who is allegedly ; a wife beater and backstabber. Even though I don't personally know Fat Tim, this song is so kick ass and convincing that I am tempted toget involved and dropkick this Tim in the face, as this rowdy anthem plays on. Thankfully, however, I know better than to get involved with strangers personal disputes so I can only enjoy another smashing Paddy Punk track by the mighty Gentlemen with a shit-eating grin and a mug of stout.
Afterwards, "Belfast Boy" begins with a lean and mean fiddle introduction by Isaiah Richie, a gifted musician who really doesn't play around and delivers musical knock-outs in every song on this blazing album, and nonetheless in this grand Punk Rock tribute to the youth of Belfast City, and a moving bombast against the sectarian Police State in Northern Ireland. Stellar street rhythm meets Mountainman melody is The Gentlemen trademark street sound and what makes them so damn hard to beat.
"Under The Rowan Tree" follows, a great acoustic tune accompanied by Corey Forindi's tin whistle, a nostalgic pub sing-a-long song that is a robust tribute to the dearly departed and old comrades and friends of yore. Lead singer Matthew Lineham's snotty growl shines like an unopened full 40 ounce of porter left in an alley dustbin, shining like an emerald diamond in the rough and tumble, without a grumble or stumble, but ready for an alleyway rumble.
Afterwards, old Irish traditional classic, "Molly Malone" gets us in the mood for a wee bit of stout guzzling and ceilidh slamdancing in the midst of a ballroom slugfest complimented by some lean mean Paddy Punk boom boom.
"All Alone" kicks off next, with Corey Forindi's bagpiping introducing us to a fine Paddy Punk hardcore composition that would make Roger Miret or Harley Flanagan mighty proud, and this tune, while not my favorite track on this great album, it will get you off your arse to mosh against the posh andf slamdance against the poser prance, without sparing a glance at those who are lost in the proverbial punk rock time warp of 1977. Storming beats that thunder from the depths of Appalachia and bass back beat from the street that will cause you to move your feet,that is what The Gentlemen are most renowned for.
Not skipping a beat, The Gentlemen next do a hammering cover of old Dominic Behan classic, "Come Out Ye Black and Tans", that will make you want to burn Union Jacks while singing along to the powerful mountain-mayhem that only The Gentlemen can provide.
With the concluding song, "Sea's A Beauty", probably one of the best sailor's Punk sing-alongs I've heard yet, making me want to commandeer a schooner and make attendant wankers walk the plank. Hearken Paddy Punkers, because this ship is sailing to unknown stormy waters and only The Gentlemen can sail through the reefs without disaster and with a mighty melody that soars above the highest musical peaks like the peregrine falcon. Yes indeed, this Paddy Beat Heat from the Streets soars so damn high that it shall never come down.
http://www.myspace.com/thefreakingentlemen
---Rory Dubhdara, Radio Rebel Gael
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