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 As the man who runs this site will plainly tell you, true sleaze isn’t
something that you can slap on like sunscreen--you’re either born sleazy or
you ain’t. Like the Cramps, Bob Log III and the Kari Nations, Motor City
trash-blues fuckers Demolition Doll Rods have been soaking in sleaze for so
long that it comes out of their pores like THC; the trio (cross-dressing
guitarist Danny, blonde savage frontwoman Margaret, and sweetly addled
drummer Thumpurr) live, eat, sweat and shit three-chord scumrock 24-7, and
their dedication is evident
in every trashcan bash and needle-in-the-red guitar squonk on their latest
CD, On. The basic DDR formula hasn’t been tampered with or diluted in the
least—the twelve tunes included here are all fuzzed-out crotch-rockers slung
with soul to spare (lots of trash bands can deliver the racket, but very few
can muster the essential R&B grind that’s the yin to the whoop-ass
garage-rock yang) and steeped in an unhealthy obsession with high heels,
body heat and latex.
Standouts are the jackrabbit pelvic swing of “The Thump,” Margaret’s
ridiculous-by-right-on, Brit-inflected rant that precedes the Stoogey
screech of “Fat Pussy,” the smutty wah-wah squall on “Sweet Simple Life” and
Danny’s date with a diddley bow (a homemade two-string guitar) on
“Cannonball.” On closes with a six-minutes-plus tear through “Big
Rock Candy Mountain” (honest), which pretty much sums up the DDR philosophy
in one neat and completely insane package: we do things our way, and if you
don’t like or understand it, fuck off or we’ll touch you. All over. In all
the wrong places. For some, that’s a bad thing, and for others, it might
just be heaven.
Web site: demolitiondollrods.com
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