If shiny, super-polished corporate rock music is what you're looking for, turn around and walk away – Demon's Claws are not the band for you. If, however, you like the simplistic bleary good-time vibes of music written and played for the sheer drunken abandon of it, grab a beer and stick around.

'Satan's Little Pet Pig' is a half-hour slice of beer-stained Canadian hill-billy garage rock that flicks the bird at such tired niceties as virtuosity and slick production. Frequently sounding as if it's been recorded in the seedy little bar venues that are the natural home of this style, it's a tongue-in-cheek trip back in time to an era when four drunk dudes could grab cheap instruments and clatter out a set of songs that get an audience stomping in time by sheer dint of energy alone.

To be honest, it's hard to tell whether Demon's Claws are paying homage to their musical roots or engaging in some postmodern pastiche. One thing is for sure – to ask questions is to miss the point entirely. There's a spark here that more serious music lacks – the shrieking red-neck vocals, rat-a-tat drums and three chord guitar hooks aren't trying to change the world so much as they are attempting to shut it out for a little while. This is music for the sake of music itself, a resurrected memory of the 60's when performance still meant more than polish and a record was simply that – a recording, an attempt at capturing the sound of a band in full flow.

Imagine Demon's Claws crawling from city to city, sleeping in their clothes, playing gigs each night in an endless string of backstreet bars, the audiences and venues blurring into a seamless film reel of shows and hangovers. If that image raises a grin, then so will this album.



Track Listing