Album Review: Gutterlove

Gutterlove are based in Motueka, and describe themselves as a “Punky/Skanky/Rock n Roll band” who blend “Punk/Ska/Alt Rock and Pop Rock into a weird yet amusing fusion of tongue in cheek Rock” which to be fair, is the kind of thing that tends to get my attention. Their eponymous debut album was largely recorded in one 13-hour session, with some guitar overdubs being laid down the following day. Money was a contributing factor to this approach, but it has worked in their favour, this is a gem of an album that’s worth its weight in gold.

First track is Toogood For Selwyn, a nice snotty snarler of a guitar intro, this is loads of fun and high energy right out of the gate. I love the combination of the two different vocalists, Lisa Gruner and Glenn Bathgate playing off each other with wit and skill. This is tight and punchy good honest Rock n Roll, played with vim & vigour. Riddled with hooks, it’s already grabbed me and isn’t letting go. A solid, rollicking opener. Stitched Up is classic Punk with a tasty-ass bass intro that turns into a thumping centrepiece for this wee dazzler of a song. Only Lisa’s vocals grace this track, full of attitude and moxie. If this song was a person, it’d be a right saucy ratbag.

Slinky Disco Rock sets the tone on Mr. P.C., and the twin vocal attack is back. This crew have got some helluva songwriting chops, and boy howdy, can they lay down a groove. This band would have any joint pumping; they’ve certainly got me shaking a tailfeather. It doesn’t stay in the Disco Rock vein, turning up the Rock control to get right in your face with some up-tempo bursts before sleazing back into the Disco feel. Pretty In Pink is slightly slower paced, but no less potent. This is a dead sexy little number, with Lisa cheekily advising that “I just wanna see you naked beside my bed, I just wanna see you with your head between my legs”. Absolutely, madam, who am I to argue, and where do I sign up? However, it seems to morph into a blistering tribute to weatherman Jim Hickey… why not, I say. Treat yourself.

Another tasty bass intro kicks off The Britz, this one being a heartfelt tribute to British music and British bands, no matter how good other nationalities might be. Super Punk feel, full of “Fuck You” with a smile and a wink. This band sounds like they’d steal your wallet, but buy you a beer afterwards. Superb musicianship, bassist Joe Pomana and drummer Jason McIvor locking horns like a couple of outrageously powerful and sexy wild bulls. Cum Play is huge and rolling, like a guitar tidal wave. This song ably displays what clever composers and players they truly are, with a myriad of influences coming into play over the course of the album thus far. An epic feel in this track.

On Maybe Baby, bluesy sleaze infuses the mood, a timeless Rock n Roll love song, Glenn and Lisa taunting and flirting up a storm, and it just keeps getting steamier. This band absolutely rocks. Glenn has a magnificent melodic sensibility to his solos, Joe and Jason deftly holding the groove as he dances over the fretboard. I’m really starting to fall in love with this album. Next up is Mother, nice one, this starts out seeming like it’s going to be another sex romp, but no, not a bit of it. Lisa sing lustily about the everyday fantasies of your typical mum. Being left alone in peace, with some delicious food and frosty beers, and the bed to herself. Want to win the key to her heart? Go clean the house, and cook her some dinner whilst you’re about it… and bloody well clean up after yourself!

Lazy is a tad more subdued, but still plenty grunty, with a bass line that surprises as it continues to flow, not ending up where you might expect. The mid-section really opens up, and lifts the whole dynamic before easing down again, and finally just going hell bent for leather towards the end, frantic and frenetic. Wacko Jacko is another ballsy punk-infused banger, an ode to the late great King Of Pop himself, but not necessarily a well-intentioned one. Musically adventurous, unpredictable, and highly engaging.

Which brings us to track 11, Distraction. Holy Vader’s Fist, there’s some stinky filth on the bass and guitar in this fast-paced face-puncher. There’s some venom to the vocals too, before its abrupt end, an all too apt closer for this brazen, ballsy basher of an album. Raucous and clever, brash and beautiful, this album is a must-listen for anyone who loves good, honest, dirty Rock n Roll with hints of humour and sleaze in equal measure. Farking brilliant.