Largely a punk rock band with tones that live up to their moniker, I.E. overdriven with fuzz and swimming in an ocean of beer suds, Arizona power trio Fuzz Evil doesn’t bring anything too complex to the table but they don’t really need to.  Sporting a greasy, brain-burnt riff onslaught that will latch onto the system like those 3 bowls that made you fail your last drug test, Fuzz Evil will easily win over fans of Milligram, Roadsaw,  Motörhead, MC5, The Stooges, Diegrinder, Dozer and the early Hellacopters’ records.  Milligram and Roadsaw’s slimiest punkified ditties are the most direct comparisons because these maniacs take riff after riff of ultra-catchy slop and shape it into monster grooves that never let-up while gruff yet melodic vocals are cemented into the foundation.  Wah pedals give off pungent whiffs of psychedelia but for the most part these tunes remain direct, hard-nosed and ready for a fistfight.

“Good Medicine” feels like a simultaneous nod to The Stooges’ Funhouse and shitkickin’ Swedish dope blues as it gleefully hogs your parents’ pill stash.  That Boston stoner/punk slam is all over this and these guys would fit snuggly on a bill between Roadsaw and Milligram at any smoky dive bar across the US or Europe.  Wayne Rudell drives home one scuzzy riff after another and rules the land where tone is king and cough syrup boogie grooves are only interrupted by a psychedelic, punk rock solo shred.  His brother, Joe’s bass lines are fat, lowdown beasts that stalk the yard for women and Marlin Tuttle’s economical, smashing beats strip things down to the barest of bones as he rides a vintage thunderfuck rumble.  The vocals got plenty of soul, sweat n’ swagger; belting out lyrics that are simplistic and memorable at the same time, shout-a-long anthems without a doubt.  Sounding like an outtake from Hello Motherfucker! “My Fuzz” is a mid-tempo, brass-knuckle tooth breaker that unleashes a sonic riff rape that is pure assault and battery.  Every series of chords is a 70s punk hipshaker interpreted via swampy hard rock sign language.  The progressions are timeless and the repetitions are all meat n’ potatoes with no bullshit vegetables thrown on the plate.

More of the same is offered on “Killing the Sun,” a bluster of bulging bass damage, knuckle-dusted riffs that scuttle off into sizzling leads and smash n’ crash drumming.  It’s a bit more melodic all around, harnessing some of Sweden’s ungodly loudness, gargantuan tones and bright production while still driving home that New England crunch.  Stomping footwork, energetic snare/tom beatings and ship sinking low-end set-up a murderous, coyote creepin’ riff that gets “Bring Them Through” started off as the vocals try out some new tricks including higher-pitched, breathy soul singles and lush harmonies.  This one’s got the MC5 in addition to Iggy Pop written all over it.  There’s no decrease in adrenaline, yet it’s easily one of the album’s catchiest, most infectious cuts with props for the interplay going on betwixt Joe’s monolithically heavy, super upfront bass pluckin’ and Wayne’s mind-melting psychedelic solos (buttered generously with wah-wah abuse).

You can pretty much make a direct comparison to “Odin Has Fallen” to Milligram’s unforgettable attitudinal, sludge-riffed show stealer “Muscledog Shot.”  Here Fuzz Evil halt the pace to a trapdoor spider creep piling bluesy doom riffs up to the sky and placing a big middle finger cherry to God ontop.  A single drop of this poisonous jam will kill ya dead as the leads distort like faces seen through psilocybin eyes and the rhythm section pummels their way through a barrel chested burl that fans of Earthride and Backwoods Payback can get behind.  Despite the crumbling, in the red aggression on display, the vocals remain clean and powerful with just enough riff-y reverb added to mimic the effects of drugs even if you don’t happen to be on any while listening.  Closer “Black Dread” mixes things up further and psyches out to the cosmos; effectively weaving some organ into the mix and heightening the jam factor thanks to some extended solos, more subdued atmospherics and deep river rhythms…this baby is a total favorite for me.  Culminating with a stonerized, Dozer-tinged riff that slaps its dick across Satan’s forehead, this is easily the EP’s best piece and fleshes Fuzz Evil’s sound into a unique take on the genre that makes its own distinct impression on the current rock n’ roll crop.

This was a killer surprise.  Fuzz Evil delivers the goods on this EP and has permanently imbedded their riff-y evil into my memory thanks to this release having two distinct halves.  There’s not a weak track in the bunch.  These cats do a great job on the short, gut-slicing stoner/punk rockers but then flex the muscles of originality on Side 2’s wandering, psychedelic adventures where punk’s brevity is replaced by mountainous, meandering grooves that manage to stay on a course to victory.  It’s hard to wax poetic on this ‘un, so pick it up if you like that fuzzy sort of kick ass, sleazebag rock n’ roll.

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