Demon’s Claws spit out (I don’t think “play” is the right word) root slappy, slap happy slop-punk so raw it makes Billy Childish sound like the Engelbert Humperdinck. Like if Dan Melchior drank a gallon of Thunderbird and three pots of coffee. (At once, I mean, and then performed some songs—I don’t imagine he’d sound like this if he was just sitting around reading a book or preparing a tart.) Barely-tuned guitars sunk in reverb and a one-two drumkit that sounds to consist of just a kick, snare and a cymbal or two (drummer Skip Jensen also does a one-man-band thing and is, or was, in the Scat Rag Boosters, if that rings anyone’s bathtub) set up Royce Muckler’s mouthful-of-grubs gibber and wail (and, furthermore, shriek and moan). I don’t think the “Live” in the title means a public performance, but I have no doubt the recordings were done in one take, with the exception of “incidental noises” recorded in a cave (actual cave, not metaphor for heavy-handed reverb). Also, really nice black and blue marbled vinyl; possibly the most beautiful record I’ve ever seen. Beats pink and white marbled’s pansy ass to a pulp.
–doug (Hook or Crook)