THE DANGERMEN Summer of danger cd 2004 320 kbps
Shipwrecked / Gotta be / Shark attack / Put it on your fridge / Show me / Summer of danger / Johnny Craig / Mechanical girl / Investigators / This not A. M. radio / We are the DangerMen / Supersonic meltdown.
Produced by the DangerMen.
The Dangermen : Zoltane the Maniac : vocals / Dr Rock : guitar / Dover : guitar / Awesome Andy : bass / Muchos L. Dangeros : drums.
On a superficial level, I liked this album. The guitars are fast and furious, the vocals grate and groan in true punk tradition, and the rhythm section robust and brutal. That said, this album is about as original as any of the local Big Brother shows, or indeed anything that includes "reality television" in the product description. On one level, it is a naked rip-off of the Ed Kuepper's buzzsaw guitar attacks, Chris Bailey's pub lifestyle ravaged vocals and Ivor Hay's warp speed drums. The opening track, "Shipwrecked", is the high water mark of artistic derivation, with the lyrics barely deviating from "Stranded" (the title itself is an acquatic variation on the original), while We Are the Dangermen continues the long standing punk rock tradition of eponymous theme songs. The rest of the album rarely drops below 90 mph, but equally never strays from the Kuepper/Bailey genre.On another level, this recording celebrates the brash, snotty, fuck you, rock 'n' roll squawl in a dirty pub sound that the Saints pummelled out in their punk rock hey day. It's a reasonable assertion that most contemporary music owes a debt to earlier artists (indeed, Led Zeppelin is regarded by some to be the most successful tribute band ever to walk the rock 'n' roll earth). There's nothing pretentious about the Dangermen's music – it's just loud slacker punk rock'n'roll with its influences tattooed in the band's forehead. And the schlock 1950s horror film sleeve design is simplistic and tacky, and in keeping with the broader pop cultural context of slacker punk. If you don't care about originality, then the music is enjoyable.Imitation is said to be the sincerest form of flattery. If that's the case, The Saints should be bowled over with endless commendations and tributes everytime this CD is played. But, as others less diplomatic than me might suggest, imitation is the soft end of plagiarism, then this CD is merely a glorified tribute album. - P. Emery ; I-94 Bar