Labels: Swami
Review by: Alex Deller
Once again Swami comes up with the goods, unearthing nineteen tracks of snarling garage punk and assuring a handful more people will now come to know and love the Penetrators. Though undeniably influenced by the Nuggets/Pebbles generation their date of birth seems to have played its part in the Penetrators’ sound, the decades colliding as the band kicked out timeless three-chord, three-minute rumbles with twanging, elasticated guitar lines, brittle drumming and the kind of sneery-voiced vocals that should resonate deep in the heart of any disaffected son of a bitch who’s ever dreamt of “sticking it” to those making their sorry life a misery. Songs like Baby Dontcha Tell Me and Shopping Bag are bona fide classics, possessing all the outrageously cocksure swagger music like this should and hitting that rare spot only the crudest, most primitive rock n’ roll can ever touch.