Album review

Nekromantix : Dead Girls Don't Cry
Hellcat Records

Nekromantix : Dead Girls  Don't CryA slow creak is heard in the pitch black, and somewhere a projector comes to life beaming a film into the darkness. The likes of Frankenstein's monster, Dracula and armies of putrid zombies grace a dust-covered wall that is swarming with spiders, as a blood curdling scream flies out of a loudspeaker. You know exactly the type of film I mean - it's an age-old lesson in shock horror, walking the fine line between trashy B-movie and genuine fright classic.
    If bands could be associated to films, Reel Big Fish would be a clown-booted comedy, Rage Against The Machine would be a Michael Moore documentary, and these guys, the Nekromantix, would be the perfect musical partner to the film described above. The name of the psychobilly trio's new record says it all: Dead Girls Don't Cry.

If you’re familiar with Hellcat's recent signings, you will be aware of Copenhagen rockabilly band the HorrorPops tearing up the scene with their infectious brand of music, which has undoubtedly been inspired to some degree by the Nekromantix. Formed in 1989 in Denmark by singer/bassist Kim Nekroman, Dead Girls Don't Cry marks the band's seventh release, and comes hot on the heels of 2002's aptly titled Return Of The Loving Dead. With an obsession for old horror films, the Nekromantix have made a worthy record for a Friday night fright-fest.

We enter the dingy theatre to be presented with the haunting twang of Black Wedding, and as second track Backstage Pass To Hell hits the silver screen with its relentless pace and opening scream, the bloodbath ensues. The songs are dark and equally bouncy with edgy lyrics - imagine The Misfits with slicked back hair and mile-high bouffants and you’re almost there.
    Understandably, the torrent of creepy humour and graveyard tales has to be given some respite (though some might argue that there is no rest for the wicked), and that respite comes just three numbers in with the show-stealing rockabilly beat of Moon Chaser.
    The pace is then picked up again and we are slammed back into the likes of Struck By A Wrecking Ball which, if you put your hands half over your werewolf ears and let your imagination run, sounds like it could be one of AFI's own.
    We walk along through the misty graveyard, passing the usual ghouls, some of which unfortunately start to become a bit too familiar, until we get to the finest offering; Dead Moon Walking. With a drum beat that grabs your feet and physically taps them and a chorus simple enough to remember even when wasted on the ol' brain juice, this is as good as it gets.

Considering that the music for each track was composed entirely within the space of a week, and all of the lyrics written on a piece of paper the morning of the recording, it has to be said that this is a first-rate album. You could forgive the threesome for leaving it until the last minute, given that Kim lives in LA while guitarist Pete Sandorff and drumming brother Kristian still reside in Denmark. A spate of shows with the likes of Rancid and Tiger Army clearly didn't speed up the process either.
    A record that is both funny and ghoulish in equal measure, Dead Girls Don't Cry is psychobilly mayhem with more hooks than Leatherface's basement.

:: Graham Drummond

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