BiografieWhat made Evel Knievel so rad is not only that he could jump high and far, but lacked no shortage of class. He took a beating with a smile; an indestructible, stylish, and fearless motherfucker. Without a doubt, THE DISTILLERS´ first, self-titled foray into the world of music, they jumped over trash heap lyrics and broken windshield clichés littering the punk landscape and landed with authority. Greatness and expansion are rarely based on repetition. Not content to land the same trick over and over again, what THE DISTILLERS set off to clear on their second full-length, Sing Sing Death House, has been set on fire. The musical distance has been increased.

Steering the ship with gritty, slur-phrased screams from the gutter and searing guitar is twenty-two-year-old Australian, Brody. Bolt that on to the fact you can almost see the lipstick smeared outside the lines from Rose´s sneering, lurching rhythm guitar and you´ve got a recognizable force. Andy, who´s pulling double duty skin-destroying drum missions in both THE DISTILLERS and The Nerve Agents (no, not the lethal organo-phosphorus compounds, the hardcore band on Hellcat) adds to the arsenal. Just as Brody found Rose immediately prior to recording the first record, the band found Ryan working at a record store a month before Sing Sing Death House. Unlike the Berlin Wall, Ryan´s bass doesn’t crumble, doesn´t divide the songs, and just as there´s love at first sight, the band opened up and immediately fell in step with the recording process.
With Brett Gurewitz (Bad Religion, owner of Epitaph Records) at the mixing helm, produced by THE DISTILLERS and Donnell Cameron (NOFX, Pennywise, 7 Seconds) and recorded at Westbeach, you know the record sounds like a missile´s going off from your stereo to directly between your eyes.

Musical influences may be the protective skin, but aren´t the heart of the matter. Curious to as what THE DISTILLERS sound like? Fuck you core: The Plasmatics, Discharge, Expoited, Bad Religion, Blondie, Germs, Rancid. Better yet, try this on. Walk outside. Look for a yard with a big, nasty dog. Jump the fence. That feeling when the German Shepard sinks its teeth into your nuts or hoo hoo? THE DISTILLERS are the aural equivalent to that attack. Adrenaline charges, blood, fur flying, and a cool scar to show your friends. The beauty of the bruise is that it shows that you´re alive and when Brody screams, "Are you ready to be liberated?" be prepared to see how far THE DISTILLERS have taken punk´s freedom machine when played right. Freedom, one chord at a time, beating the world back with the right, fierce melody. Welcome the new fireballs. The new daredevils. Quelle: http://www.starkult.de www