Don't Deliver Us

Vinyl LP pressing. Arriving from Herndon, Virginia in a psychic blizzard of garage-birthed fury and fuzz-crazed abandon, Satan's Satyrs stand proud as a malignant manifestation of all that's debauched and demented in heavy music. What's more, their incoming third album, Don't Deliver Us, beamed in from a metaphysical zone of over-amped '70s power trio action and exploitation-movie malice, may well be the most gory and glorious thing they've thus far wrenched into creation. Not only have Satan's Satyrs recovered the heinous in-the-red overload that characterized their debut cult classic Wild Beyond Belief, yet whilst that album was made entirely by Burgess himself, Don't Deliver Us boasts an electrifying band chemistry palpable throughout gonzo sonic debacles like the alarmingly catchy garage-stomper "(Won't You Be My) Gravedancer" and the Stoogian and stygian "Full Moon And Empty Veins," which Clayton dubs a tongue-in-cheek "Dracula's love song." "When the three of us get together, it's loud and raw, no matter what we're playing." he notes "If the last album was of the mind, this is of the body. These new tracks go for the throat, for the gut, and other areas."