I'd wager the Gimps are the crudest, scuzziest garage rockers you'll care to stumble across in any musical fleapit right now. There is nothing phoney about these fret licking animals who are the trashier, chunkier seedlings of MC5 or 13th Floor Elevators. It's a turbo charged monster mash of raging fuzz and feedback which runs riot all over the charred remains of the post-Stooges/Iggy burn out era. The Gimps post-psychedelic grungecore has blossomed extremely agreeably over the last few years while snowballing through the North and South London toilet circuit sparring tuning pegs alongside the likes of Sludgefeast, Placebo, The Rakes and Subways since the turn of this centaury. The Gimps love and live for ear splitting volume, white noise and a great big slice of rabid rock'n'roll mayhem and what total loser wouldnt given the chance. Their debut album Planet Of The Gimps due for release on Sump Puppy in October is all the proof in the big black thundering pudding youll need of this. It's definately time to take that orange from your mouth and remove the leather from your ears and devour this in bucket loads, and if your mistress wont let you youd better just try desperately to remember that safe word before its too late!
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