I don't feel much like writing this morning. The weather fucking sucks, I just blew a few bills on new tires yesterday, and last night's chocolate stouts have painted me ragged. I needed a pick-me-up; something straight to the point that didn't meander and hover and drop hints. Melbourne's Riff Fist offered the most succinct elixir I could find, slapping me silly with... um... riffs. Six tracks off two releases are rotating in my den as I try to figure out how the fuck this meatiness stayed off my radar for so long.
2013's Fistful Of Riffs is just that. Twenty-four minutes of caffeinated stoner-sludge riffage packed tight under white-knuckle truth. Give it a go. Chase it with this year's For A Few Riffs More, uncorking Master of the Grove as a chaser to Riff Stew. There's no pretense here. If you spent any of the 90's enjoying Paw but found them a tad bleak, this has just enough shine and balls to push you west with no doubts. Hit up these links and get dirty. My hangover's gone and I'm jumping in with both feet.
Er... fists.
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