Combine the powers of gritty renegades from the Black Lips and The King Kahn & BBQ Show, spice it up with the angst of counterculture and carve their names into scratched vinyl. The result has established The Almighty Defenders as “post-modern gospel rockers”, worthy of the endorsement of Vice Records.
No longer a novel gimmick, the age of the supergroup is surely upon us. However, this latest hybrid comes off as more of a collision than a carefully-orchestrated collaboration; and oh what exquisite chaos! With jaded vestiges from the Animals to Albert King, the iconoclastic six-piece thrash together the best of the fifties’ “black music for white folks” with the cigarette-stained vocals of proto-punk.
The value of the music is appreciated in its ephemeral state; created for the here and now. What they are concerned with is documenting an honest moment in time, with the spontaneous spirit and disregard for the masses that has endeared the world to punk music.
The urgency and lack of over-production kick straight for the jugular on every track. I get the impression that the Almighty Defenders are an impulsive lot (their penchant for on-stage antics would support this idea) who trust their instincts and prefer not to over-think their work.
The album ends with fervent evangelism punctuated with foreboding undertones, leaving us with an unnerving sentiment of apocalypse. It is an anthemic salute to their ongoing crusade against the conventions of the past and the chaos of the future - guaranteeing one hell of a ride.
