Are you
ready to feel the shiver.
You know
the one.
You're
walking down the street and there's a distinct feeling that you are
being watched.
Not in a
nice way either.
Danger is
sending currents through the air and you can feel your stomach
rolling in anticipation of something happening.
It's some
reptilian thing in the core of your brain ramping the warning levels
up to def con one.
That's
the feeling that accompanies the new release from The Coffins.
It's
darkly dangerous and delightfully fucked up.
While
some would shy away from embracing the feeing there will be equally
those who will rush forth wrap their arms around it.
The
thrill seekers, those who want to feel their stomach flip as the jump
from the cliff face, that push to the front of the line to try out
the latest gravity challenging ride at a theme park, whose idea of a
quiet night in is a box set of gore drenched DVDS.
This is
the sort of release that will appeal to them because when you put
yourself on the line it is also when you feel the most alive.
With
tales of blood in the gutter, Glasgow serial killers and even a party
anthem for when the scariest bitch that this country has ever seen
dies called Maggie's Dead thrown in for good measure we have an album
that will tick all the little boxes that their fans have set up, and
even provide those who haven't heard them before something to chew
on.
Or worry
on like a bone if that's your thing.
Bob's
Shed is akin to Alex Harvey freaking out on an acid trip after a
marathon night of watching Hammer horror movies with some episodes of
Taggart thrown in for light relief.
With some
of the mainstream music press sniffing about the band it looks like
this could the the year of The Coffins.
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