John Woo
Woodoo

I don't know where these John Woo come from (they claim to be aliens) but I certainly know where they ended up. In my player. And from there, they don't want to leave.

Their roaring and ultra-fast quick-release garage hits at first listen. Frenzied in sound and execution, in "Compleanno pop svedese" they mimic Jon Spencer, but then they think again and in "Searching" they pay great homage to the Blues Explosion of Orange.

The voice that screams incomprehensible lyrics, completely sucked into the crossfire of guitar-keyboard, is an added instrument, a sharp blade that cuts through the sound textures.
In at least half of the tracks on the album, the Royal Trux peek through, who would have greatly approved of the psychotic rhythm of "Gonzo" and "Sick Head".
Alec Empire would like "Dinosauro", an exciting and compact industrial-punk ride.

At times the album takes on a '60s cinematic cut, with inserts of dialogues taken from films and an urgent atmosphere, broken by frequent noise breaks, almost wanting to leave time to frame the murderer's face, before starting again more lo-fi and wilder than before.
Listening to "Clutz", Tarantino could write one of his screenplays.

The Venetians John Woo with these 17 tracks sign a great debut, obsessive and exciting like an imminent danger behind, like fleeing from a giant wave that's about to reach us!