Jan 02, 2002

If Evel Knievel were still recklessly careening his way through a bone-snappin’ array of death-defying stunts, he’d assuredly blast Motochrist as tolerably loud as possible to fuel his adrenaline before once again crashing his motorbike into the record books as the world’s most amazing daredevil adventurist. I love Evel Knievel, and, apparently, so do Motochrist (they wrote a song about him, “Evel,” and they also included his name within their list of thanks in the CD-insert booklet). So we’re already off to one helluva beer-guzzlin’ good start, and it just gets better from there! This is gut-pummeling, ass-blistering rock’n’roll fury that raucously races along at breakneck speeds with a so-fuckin’-what, devil-may-care attitude are somewhat similar to the Dwarves and the Supersuckers, only ten times ballsier. Motochrist possess all of the intensity and aggression of a fully-revved star-spangled Harley Davidson ready to take a fateful leap across the flaming gullies of Hades. They brazenly gun the ol’ rock’n’roll accelerator and wildly ride the savage sonic beast that invariably drives a man to the edge of crazed quixotic impetuousness. Hell yeh, this is beyond frenetically inspirational! I’m hooked like a trailer-trash tweaker addicted to home-made bathtub crank. Rock on, you almighty Motochrist motherfuckers!

 –Roger Moser Jr. (RAFR)

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