The Celibate Rifles
Kiss Kiss Bang Bang

So, the story begins with a certain Sally intent on beating rifles; in English, Sally Beats Rifles.

Now, whether it was my fault for not speaking much English or those radio DJs who expressed themselves in the language of Shakespeare like any Biscardi lost between a "denghiu" and a "sgub," the fact is that for a long time the Bachelor-Rifles for me were Sally-Beats-The-Rifles.

No wonder I managed to get my hands on one of their records after an eternity; not to mention the faces of the clerks at Disfunzioni Musicali when I asked them about the new Sally Beats Rifles album, the one with that guitar riff that went ta-ta-da-ta-ta-ta-da-da and was always played on Radio Rock in those days, and to make myself understood better, I even mimed a devastating air guitar solo.

No way, no one knew the Sally Beats Rifles; and I boasted like a show-off, puffing out my chest with pride that I was the only one who knew such a phenomenal band.

It was those damned guys from Mucchio Selvaggio who broke the spell in 1987, by reviewing “Kiss Kiss Bang Bang” and shattering my supposed supremacy in underground music culture. At the time, I was 16 years old, and the traumatic revelation marked me for life, so much so that a couple of years later I formed a little band named Sally Beats Rifles; and if any of you, between the late Eighties and the very early Nineties, happened to run into four jokers wandering around under that name, you can one day tell your children and grandchildren that you had the fortune to meet Pinhead at the peak of his glory.

But enough of this sentimental nonsense, let's go with the Celibate Rifles.

What a great band, guys, what a great band!

Too punk for the hippies and too hippy for the punks were originally the Only Ones, but the motto fits perfectly for the Celibate Rifles as well, who also cover “City Of Fun” by the Only Ones, testifying to very deep stylistic and elective affinities. Elusive and eclectic, practically impossible to define, you won't find them mentioned in any guide of any genre: the only times I came across their name was flipping through the historic “Encyclopedia of Psychedelic Rock” and recently in an article dedicated to the fundamental records of Australian rock.

Because yes, the Rifles hail from the land of kangaroos and are worshippers of the pagan deity Radio Birdman, only in their interpretation the proto-punk in pure “Detroit 1968” style of the Birdmen is transfigured into dreamlike visions, swirling ups and downs, moments of repose alternating with devastating fury, until they lose any well-defined physiognomy and transform into a sonic magma that envelops everything sweetly and then overwhelms with violent brutality, the smack smack of a passionate kiss followed by the explosion of a bullet fired from a rifle barrel, “Kiss Kiss Bang Bang” indeed: make the debut “Sideroxylon” and the subsequent “The Celibate Rifles” (better known as “5 Languages”) yours and you’ll see.

“Kiss Kiss Bang Bang” is instead the least disorienting album of the group, the one made of pure and hard punk, at 100%.

Recorded live at CBGB's in the summer of 1986, the album aligns thirteen explosive and intense tracks like never before in studio sessions; starting with the opening trio, from that “Back In The Red” which is one of the peaks of the group’s production, and then “Temper Temper” and “JNS”, featuring full-on punk, shameless declarations of love to the Birdman and acidity á la Died Pretty caught around the time of “Mirror Blues” and beyond, up to a “Carmine Vattelly (N.Y.N.Y.C.)” that takes your breath away for impetuosity and violence, through eight tracks that leave you exhausted; among them, the splendid “Pretty Colours” (a pause and a finale alone are worth the entire discography of all “alternative” bands from the '90s to today) and “New Mistakes” (with a climax in the center that is pure adrenaline), ballads drenched in a street rock almost like the New York Dolls, only much more embittered.

This is punk, as evolved as you like, but punk without the slightest shadow of a doubt; moreover, of a stratospheric level, and there to prove it is the pounding beat of “Some Kinda Feeling.”

What ultimately floors is the finale: five tracks, each more beautiful than the other, the next always more passionate and engaging than the one that preceded it.

We start off great with the mentioned “City Of Fun”, a heartfelt tribute to the Only Ones, from today’s losers to yesterday’s losers, new wave turned into full-speed punk’n’roll, killer choruses, and final distortions and feedback that burn the skin.

And then another tribute, this one to the greatest, and you tell me: have you ever heard a tribute to the Birdman more exciting than “Conflict Of Instinct” and “Sometimes” fired off one after the other, culminating in the spine-chilling reprise and tear-inducing vision blurring of “Burn My Eye”?

I have heard it: it’s “24 Hours (S.O.S.)” and it closes this smoking live session, asserting itself as the hottest riff in all Aussie rock on par with “New Race.”

Just for the record, it was “24 Hours (S.O.S.)’s” riff that I butchered in front of the astonished clerks at Disfunzioni Musicali; and it was always “24 Hours (S.O.S.)”’s riff on which every performance of the immense Sally Beats Rifles always ended.

If only they knew, the Celibate Rifles would be proud.