How can we make you understand? Do you want to understand? The Groundhogs’ diesel-powered, trogged-out, ultra-alienated PTSD-garage-blues-punk head-crusher Thank Christ For The Bomb is back in print and it means...SOMETHING. Most people in our orbit don’t fuck with Groundhogs beyond ‘Cherry Red’, or mebbe mainman Tony McPhee’s schizo synth-splatter solo side Both Sides Of... (beloved of Demdike etc). But all of that stuff pales before the THUMPING artillery-raid/napalm-scorch of Thank Christ For The Bomb. It’s essentially two demented concept albums (uh-oh) for the price of one: Side 1 is narrated from the perspective of a shellshocked Tommy scrapping it out behind enemy lines and praying for an H-bomb to put him out of his misery. Side 2 is a slightly more bewildering account of a burned-out English aristo who decides to leave his Chelsea mansion and all his worldly possessions to go feral on the shores of Embankment. McPhee’s guitar is a hyper-conflicted, speed-crazed platoon unto itself, one minute lost in jangly reverie, the next unleashing almighty, electrified hell - dispensing brutally economical bonehead riffage that effortlessly out-thugs Brainbombs, never mind Dave Davies, or heading off on screaming vertiginous solos that come off like the mutant offspring of Hendrix, Skullflower and Marquee Moon. Hardly surprising that Joy Division and especially M.E.S. were fans too - McPhee, Ken Pustelnik (drums) and Pete Cruikshank (bass) set a standard for minimal, metronomic, kill-all-hippies death-march/glam-racket that a hundred brow-beaten Fall guitarists and rhythm sections could never hope to meet.
Ridiculously over-the-top 2LP reissue from Fire, good on 'em (I think?!), with gatefold sleeve in red slipcase with poster, ration book liner notes, DL and a whole extra platter of radio sessions and live cuts we haven't had time to listen yet cos we've been too busy caning the album proper. All-time rager. BOOF.