This is bloody bizarre. I mean, it's hard enough to take in a nine-piece band who feature individuals called things like 'Hurricane Tommy', 'Chantal Delusional' and simply 'The Woods' (I like that one). But then you discover they appear to be on a mission to try and sound like bits of every band - ever! And are seemingly obsessed with cowbells of all things. Look, I'm not making this up: I've not even taken any drugs for ages!
However, listening to DO ME BAD THINGS suggests I ought to seek out a dealer, rapid-style, as it might help to get a handle on whatever the hell's going down here. "Time For Deliverance" is the band's first single since their "This Song Rides" album and blisses out on QOTSA-meet-Rocket From The Crypt riffology, while Nicolai Prowse and the aformentioned Chantal swap mad keening vocals (she's the indie Tina Turner if ever there was) before lead 'axe' handler Rich Man lets loose the most ridiculously OTT guitar solo since Scott Gorham had his hair cut. Oh, and it kicks off with a clatter of cowbells. Pay attention to this: it's a recurring theme.
Suitably bewildered, you stay on board for track two. This is called "Slap Yourself" and is basically, souped-up, express train-ridin' riffery of the Young Heart Attack variety, except with an added cartoony edge. And guess what? Drummer Hurricane Tommy can't leave his cowbells alone. Neato!
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If you've still not suffered a brain haemorrhage, the closing tune is "Barrytown". It's entirely potty, probably not a comment on the "Barrytown Trilogy" written by Dublin author Roddy Doyle and this time sounds like Bill Withers being bludgeoned by the early Hillel Slovak-era Chili Peppers. Oh, and Hurricane Tommy's after the cowbells again. Confused? You dang well will be. Believe me.
To be fair, Do Me Bad Things certainly trade in high-voltage rock'n'roll with all the FUN hermetically sealed within and I imagine they'd be an absolute scream live. On record, though, they are all over the shop and which face their multiple personality disorder rock is liable to present is truly anyone's guess on any given outing. Whether you'll wanna stay onboard for the long haul depends on your staying power, or - to paraphrase RP MacMurphy: "which ones of you nuts has got any guts?"
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