Credit where it's due.
It was Homesick Aldo who turned me onto these guys and I think I may be eternally grateful to him for doing so.
They're a glorious mish mash of The Cramps, 80's goth and lo-fi garage punk.
When listening to the free Ghost Train ep it sounds like it's a cassette that I've dug up out of a box that lurked at the back of my wardrobe.
A box that was skulking under an old pair of pointy toed Chelsea boots and an old issue of 'Rolling Bones'.
They are going to have to reopen the Batcave Club so this band can shake the cobwebs loose.
Closing track Chicken Voodoo Blues sounds like a 60s Spector produced girl group, but only after they have indulged in a night of drinking tequila laced with acid.
It's a shrieking come down that's exhilarating in its madness