Lleroy
Juice Of Bimbo

We are faced with a trio originally from Jesi, for those who don't know, a town located in the province of Ancona, currently home to one of the most beautiful and flourishing scenes in the entire Italian "noise panorama". It's no coincidence that among the various labels that have collaborated on the release of this work, we find Bloody Sound Fucktory and Sweet Teddy Records, which have supported bands and entities that have garnered a lot of attention in recent years (like the Padua-based Kelvin and Butcher Mind Collapse, who also hail from Jesi).

Released in April 2008, it features collaboration in the recording and mixing by Giulio Ragno Favero, who, in addition to being the first guitarist of One Dimensional Man, is currently the bassist and drummer for the more famous Il Teatro Degli Orrori and the less famous Putiferio, respectively. Over the years, he has also established himself as a "producer" for numerous bands within the aforementioned Italian "noise panorama" (a bit of an Italian Steve Albini).

When listening to the CD, the references and sources of inspiration for the group from the Marche region immediately come to mind: firstly the sound of Amphetamine Reptile, especially in the names of three sacred monsters of the '90s, namely the Melvins, Helmet, and Unsane, which must have meant a lot to the Doric guys; but also the very early Nirvana, particularly those of Bleach, can be felt among the influences of Lleroy, who therefore do not hide their devotion to hardcore between the '80s and '90s. This does not mean they lack personality; these are mainly starting points that have influenced their work more or less significantly.

What stands out the most is the rhythm section, in a couple of instances worthy of the best Crover from the days of Gluey Porch Treatments, but the guitar is also interesting in its fits and dissonances, accompanied by a rough and unhinged voice, never trivial, even when the lyrics are in Italian. The album opens with The Lost Battle Of Minorca, whose initial piece is worth the entire song, so strong is the power and anger of the first forty-five seconds; Debbie Suicide seems like a piece personally written by Buzz Osborne and gifted to the band, perhaps the best track on the album, at least in terms of impact. Naked Violet is a mix of chaos and schizophrenia, while the concluding Border manages to draw the listener into the madness and unease of the piece, as if played by a snake charmer.

The album artwork, featuring decapitated children by rotating blades (not coincidentally "Juice Of Bimbo"), is notable, worthy of a B-movie horror poster.

A promising start, then, for this group from central Italy, which demonstrates their serious credentials, and which especially expands and enriches the emerging Italian scene.