Werewolf Jones - Premium [Detroit Punk] - New LP
Kickass rustbelt punk rock. This fine band is from Detroit and it shows, sounds like it was raised on Motor City grime, heads buzzing with shows heard through the wall cuz they couldn't afford the $7 price of admission to see the Stooges, RFTT, ACG, Death, DAM, Blight and NA, mostly sounds like it's great, probably weren't even alive when those bands were around, sounds like it's stomping out the sounds in an oil pan under an industrial engine bolted to a factory floor. Debut long-player, essential punk from the year of the pandemic. Premium shit. Punk is alive and kicking and can be found on Big Neck Records!
"Werewolf Jones' first full-length LP Premium is out 2020 on Virginia's Big Neck Records. Recorded by Kirk Scarbrough (The Cheetahs) at Detroit's favorite watering hole-cum-studio Outer Limits Lounge, these songs document a band successfully sharpening their sound to a razor's edge. Werewolf Jones has come into their own, annihilating both sonic unnecessities and any sense of idealism or goodwill. Werewolf Jones is Adam Hunter on guitar and vocals, Aaron Cohen on bass and vocals, and Heath McManus on drums. Formed in 2017, they released a self-titled cassette in 2018 and a self-titled 7" the following year, striding towards perfecting their lovingly miserable punk. The result is something like a less brutal Brainbombs, or a noisier Reagan Youth, or the unwitting child of their Detroit lineage. On Premium, addictive basslines serve as melodic buoys in a sea of lacerating riffs and scuzzed out vocals, bookended with two songs that perhaps best illustrate the Werewolf Jones sound. Album opener "Careless" distills themes sonic and lyrical: the song slowly builds into its own haunted catchiness while Hunter sings about wasting away at the bus stop, spending one's life living a lie. Echoing the blank void in that band's name, album closer "NO CAR" opens sounding very much like a dirge before Cohen gives shredded voice to the frustration constantly shimmering behind every note. Werewolf Jones' discomfort with the state of humanity bleeds into their music, at times uncontrollably. It's growing in your gut, spreading through your bones, infecting your pathetic brain. The songs are desperate, anxious, raucous. The musicianship is tight and practiced, so their live energy actually penetrates the recordings. Their hearts are racing. Your heart is pounding. It's sick and loud and terrible and wonderful."