They came back from the grave to rock and rave and misbehave! That’s right, our demonic buds Carpenter Brut are back with a brand new video. Please indulge.
This video has it all. Fast cars, heavy metal barbarians, damsels in distress, hard rock zombies! This is the video TNUC wishes he made. It has more heavy metal power + spirit than most actual heavy metal bands can even pull off these days. Since Carpenter Brut first arrived on the scene, they’ve been tipping their cap to golden era heavy metal bands and in turn have filtered the power of this classic music to pump their dark dance music with something ferocious.
I’m man enough to admit it, I was a little skeptical when it was made clear the group were include so many vocals and a more “live” band approach on their newest album Leather Teeth. My initial thought was why mess with a good thing? Well, this song and now music video blew the roof off the TNUC lair and silenced those feelings. The ‘Brut just keep getting better and better.
Be sure to catch Carpenter Brut on tour when they plow through your fair city.
It isn’t everyday you get to discover a great song with the simultaneous pairing of an OUTSTANDING music video. It happened this week when a generous TNUC disciple sent me Sharon O’Neill’s heartbreaking hooker ballad ‘Maxine’. I barely can conjure up words to continue. I just need to keep watching this music video. Enjoy…
New Zealand singer-songwriter Sharon O’Neill delivers what should have been the global monster pop ballad sensation of 1983. Sultry beat, sweaty saxophone, heavy subject matter done the best way and an insanely infectious hook.
“Maxine, Case 1352
A red and green tattoo
Eyes cold steel blue”
Rarely do song lyrics immediately grab me but it’s hard not to really feel something with this hot number. Pair that with the graphic music video showing prostitute life on the streets and the tragic demise of a troubled teen and Uncle T is completely dialed in.
I love that the story and video feels like a 4 minute Miami Vice episode or one of the show’s many epic montages. If only Crockett and Tubbs would’ve been there to land a swift kick wearing slip-on loafers to one of those vicious thugs’ faces before they got to poor Maxine.
This live video is also highly recommended. Even though nothing will top what she achieved with the music video, Sharon and her band deliver a performance that will make you want to reach for a cigarette and gaze out at the city skyline.
Streetwalkin’ is tough business. I’d like to dedicate this post to any lady TNUC disciples who’ve had to partake in the midnight hustle in order to stay alive.
Sharon O’Neill is now my current dreambabe. She is definitely making TNUC’s Vixen Of The Month countdown real soon.
Is it awkward to think of a cemetery as a dreamy place?
Because that’s exactly what the oldest cemetery on Cape Cod felt like on this sunny afternoon in May.
Uncle T paid a visit to the ancient burial grounds of Sandwich, Massachusetts’ Old Town Cemetery to pay his respects and bask in the salty air, not realizing how gorgeous and serene this spooky stroll would be. The hillside cemetery overlooks Shawmee Pond and reminded me so much of days gone at the sacred grounds of Camp TNUC.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s one of the eeriest cemeteries I’ve had the pleasure of visiting due to the decaying graves dating as far back as 1639. Like so many towns on Cape Cod, this particular cemetery is filled with history. With such a large number of early settlers laid to rest at this location, I’m looking forward to some haunted happenings come this October when we revisit. (Stay tuned)
As a kid, I cherished riding bikes with friends through the local graveyards. Sometimes we’d be inspired to go after watching a good episode of Goosebumps, but most of the time it was just one of those routine routes we loved doing. Empty cemeteries with hilly, winding paths were ideal for racing around on bikes and a great place to get lost/get weird.
Zoom up the hill past the iron gates, under the maple trees, bike tires crunching over the dead leaves on the ground, the smell of fresh overturned dirt and smoke from nearby chimneys permeating through the air. Halfway through we’d dump our bikes on the lawn and stop at one of the moss-covered tombs, trying to get a peek inside. Then stroll through the graves for a few minutes, admiring the brittle yet somewhat legible 17th and 18th century headstones. On a very rare occasion, one of us would have brought a sheet of wax paper for some grave-rubbing before the old groundskeeper/gravedigger guy took notice and kicked us out.
As a full grown adult Uncle TNUC, when I’m not wandering around foggy graveyards at night in October blasting undead anthems on my ghettoblaster á la Return of the Living Dead, during off-months I sincerely enjoy taking strolls through these old reseting grounds. Especially the ancient ones that date back over a century ago.
An empty canoe sits at the edge of a graveyard. Could it be Manimal satisfying his insatiable thirst by claiming innocent victims way early before Camp season?!
Welcome another edition of SAVAGE NOMAD ALBUM REVIEWS. Our intention is simple. Seek out crusty records with ridiculous cover artwork, listen, reflect. We’re looking for bodacious looking albums that capture the true power and spirit of heavy metal but sadly only 37 people in the world have ever heard. With millions of bands and billions of albums floating across the earth, all we have is one requirement. The album artwork must be nasty, primitive and savage. Artwork that easily could’ve been drawn by that delinquent Randy from shop class, your best friend’s scary older brother or the mustached stranger working at the carnival’s airbrush booth. Artwork that explodes off the shelf, excites your inner-dream child and demands that you bring it home. That same knee-jerk “cool cover…I need this” reaction you had as a kid while browsing aisles at the record shop or video store.
You know the ones. Bulging muscles, nude ladies, demons, witches, executioners, barbarians, reapers, sledgehammers, axes, swords, blood, rock boulders, neon animals, raging beasts, loin cloths, prostitutes, molten steel, lightning, villagers, snakes, rats, power glow, Italian sports cars and foggy darkness……perfectly portrayed in all their airbrushed and colored pencil glory.
We hope to uncover some gems, but realistically some of them will be turds and that’s OK. The goal is to showcase these obscure albums for what they are.
So join TNUC in scraping the $1 bargain bins, garage sales, abandoned high school lockers and Uncle Rick’s smokey basement in search for cheaply drawn, savage metal power.
SAVAGE NOMAD ALBUM REVIEW #2:
HAWK – SELF-TITLED (1985)
There’s a reoccurring dream I have where I’m a ripped, intergalactic, post-apocalyptic Native American warrior walking around casually in outer space. All I have with me is a couple pet hawks and a sacred tribal weapon. I’m wearing purple gloves and futuristic knee-high boots. While my actual gender is questionable by some, most don’t care because they’re too impressed by my insane mane. Wait a minute, the artwork to Hawk’s self-titled masterpiece is precisely that dream.
Word on the street is that people like to bitch and moan about this album’s artwork. I don’t understand this thought process. Not only does it fit the ‘Savage Nomad’ artwork criteria to a T but the native slayer reminds me of legendary b-movie nomad Mark Gregory (Thunder Warrior, 1990: The Bronx Warriors).
While I would’ve cherished a concept record about post-apocalyptic life in space, in no way am I complaining about the experience I had listening to HAWK’s powerful debut. This album is not the pure bonehead-rock album I anticipated it probably was. We begin with ‘Tell the Truth’, one of the catchiest crotch-thrusters I’ve heard in a long time. Easily the closest chance to a “hit” on this album. Turn this rad bastard up, light up a Winston and lock your bedroom door to drown the sound of your stepfather screaming from downstairs.
The band don’t hesitate switching gears into ballad territory for the track #2 ‘Fades so Fast’ which features the emotional ripper of a lyric “my guitar will take me far,´cause it´s my only friend”. With additional white-hot rockers like ‘Witches Burning’ and ‘The Dream’, this band definitely possess a Dio meets Dokken type of sound. It’s hard to believe this album didn’t reach to a higher status during its day but again, it’s a classic case of savage nomads lost at sea. The production could match up with any of their heavy metal peers on the scene and we’re about to find out why…
Now here’s where things get interesting. HAWK was the brainchild of Doug Marks, the founder and owner of Metal Method, the famous home video guitar lesson that started in 1982. Yes, that same Metal Method video that gave us the infamous scenes featuring Jim Gillette and Michael Angelo Batio. Marks relocated from Colorado to Los Angeles in the mid-eighties, put a band together and HAWK was birthed.
Drums on the album were performed by Matt Sorum (Guns N’ Roses) and at one time Scott Travis (Judas Priest, Racer X) also played drums in the band. Original vocalist David Fefolt performed with a feathered-covered mic stand and the rest of the band looked like a ugly pack of glammed-out hyenas. The band made the usual rounds of the LA rock scene at clubs like the The Roxy, Country Club and Gazzarri’s.
Die hard Hawk disciples still exist! Check out this one fan’s framed tribute to the band.
When a video premiere package arrives on TNUC’s desk from the corporate offices of Big Mike & Gianni La Bamba, my world instantly stops and nothing I’m doing matters anymore. Suddenly I’m wearing Zubaz pants, my biceps are swelled, fog is erupting through air vents and I feel a slight burning sensation in my left nostril.
That’s right, everyone’s favorite German gorilla is back and doing what he does best, infiltrating seedy discotheques and patrolling the streets at night with Gianni La Bamba!
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This new video for ‘Scirocco’ captures Big Mike and his disciples engaging in the power of the pump inside one of Germany’s oldest and steamiest clubs, The Roxy. What develops during the video is up for your own interpretation and explanation. I was told by Big Mike himself that repeated viewings will provide more answers.
The song itself is a bit of a different approach for the group as it features predominantly English lyrics and a hypnotic groove that builds to a euphoric PUMP like we’ve never heard before. The song is also of course largely inspired by one of Germany’s rarest birds, or should I say cats? The classic Volkswagen Scirocco “White Cat” is a wild minx of a machine, engineered to exist in a universe of fog, neon haze, mustached strangers and Tech Noir power.
“The German Delorean”
The group plan on releasing a 12″ maxi-single for ‘Scirocco’ soon which will include instrumentals and extended versions. For now though, venture over to www.testosaurus.tv for updates, links and brand new merchandise…
BIG MIKE FANNY PACKS. Don’t be an idiot. Order one today.