It's ironic that on the morning after the Republicans are celebrating the opportunity of another four years to push the world to the edge that your reviewer should be writing about the new HOT SNAKES album.
Not that you'd usually associate lead Snake John Reis with politics. Indeed, with his better known band Rocket From The Crypt, he's made a career out of being one of the best rock'n'roll testifiers around. However, unlike the slightly cartoon-y RFTC, Hot Snakes are wired, taut and coiled to strike musically and with third album "Audit In Progress" they are understandably pissed off with much that surrounds them.
Thus, after the looned-out power of first album "Automatic Midnight" and the proto-lysergic ruminations of follow-up "Suicide Invoice", "Audit In Progress" is sounding like a focussed and inspired third, with new drummer Mario Rubalcaba's arrival gleefully shoving the already drilled outfit into overdrive.
Precious little exceeds the 3.30 mark and the band are already sounding like champs on the opening "Brain Trust." Energised by Mario's bicep-bulging pummelling, it rides along on see-saw riffing and barely controlled violence and finds Reis screaming "Don't go to Harvard! Don't go to Yale!" like someone's bludgeoned his family in front of him. Exhilarating, in a word.
From there on in, the pressure barely lets up. Tracks like "Hi-Lites" and "Retrofit" come on like heavier versions of the currently hip post-punk sounds abounding. The former could be a San Diegan take on early XTC with crazed call'n'response vox and the lurching, Bad Seeds-meet-RFTC madness of "Retrofit" is some power trip, again aided and abetted by propulsive pummelling from Rubalcaba.
Elsewhere, Reis sinks his poison teeth into a variety of social commentary. "Kreative Kontrol" has a Sonic Youth-y title, but it's a venomous drum-heavy rant against the industry. "I'd drink piss for kreative kontrol/ I'd cut off my dick for kreative kontrol....fuck the industry lockout!" shrieks Reis, and it's difficult to doubt his sincerity. "Think About Carbs," meanwhile, features hi-octane, staccato riffing and has a great chorus ("How can you be complete, with all you cannot eat?") which is one in the eye for the anti-obesity fascists who seem to be inveigling their way into society. The album's title track, meanwhile, is a crunching rocker closer to RFTC in design and this time they're after a rumble with the taxman as they go into musical kruise kontrol. Lean and effective, Hot Snakes may be pissed-up and pissed off but sans artistic control they certainly ain't.
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As we hit the home strait, "Lovebirds" comes across as something of a departure, built around Moog oscillations and pounding drums redolent of Whirlwind Heat. Its hypnotic as hell, though, and inevitably the guitars do finally scree into life. As they make for the tape, though, they rev up again with "Reflex"'s savagely struck guitars and Mario's drums making like lemmings for the cliff. "Plenty For All" is the memorable kiss-off, and it's almost like an updated 'Grapes Of Wrath'-style commentary on Governor Arnie's present day California. "Southern California, let's go, there's room for us all: nothing to work with, nothing to lose!" screams Reis over the tune's hectoring chug and the annoyingly great spindly Buzzcocks-esque lead guitar.
"Audit In Progress", then, once again proves that - when played with the requisite skill and attack - anger can be the best energy of all in rock'n'roll. Hot Snakes have shed their skins and come slithering out into he open with murderous intent. God help the poor fool who steps on them by mistake.
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