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CROSSPLANE
Masturboned

7hard (2015)
Rating: 8.5/10

I had to chuckle when I first put this album on, but only because the vocals slightly reminded me of comedy band Bad News’ Vim Fuego (Adrian Edmondson). Other than that though, this is a rollicking release from a German band that sounds like Motörhead and doesn’t care.

Yep, this is completely bereft of originality, but at times you should just need to kick back, open a can and rock hard, and Crossplane will no doubt be more than willing to provide the oily soundtrack to your drunken evening.

Masturboned just hits me where it hurts from the off, digging its teeth in like a rabid dog and not once letting go as we’re battered and bruised by 16 no frills, Motörhead-esque biker songs. I hear so much of this sort of stuff and a majority of bands opting for such a devilish and slamming air of belligerence tend to fail miserably, but these guys are not only insistent on getting your attention but do so with ease.

Literally every track on this album is accessible from the very first listen; each number showcasing a bony bass rattle, a galloping drum slicked in grease, a primitive dirt-grimed guitar and above all a gnarly vocal smirk that just spits rust and nails into your eyes. How can an album sound so familiar, so vintage and leathery and yet remain so damn enjoyable as if it were the last party on earth? Indeed, Crossplane are without a shadow of a doubt heirs to the Motörhead throne; while that may sound like an exaggerated accolade, just one spin of this record is proof.

If Motörhead lumped together their most belligerent and riveting tracks then it would most certainly sound like this. Crossplane drive the same juggernaut of justice into the ears and through the brain – leaving a sorry mess on the carpet with the brilliantly infectious ‘Brave New World’, which exhibits the sort of iron gang menace a majority of modern bands could only dream of concocting. “Fuckin’ brave new world” come the vocal barks. It can’t get any simpler, but holy shit it’s brilliantly bruising. ‘Crossplane’ is a cranked up mix of ‘Ace Of Spades’ and German thrash; anthemic cries of “Rock and roll, rock and roll” ring through the ears like the after effects of a rusty cotton-bud as the drums take on a thrash premise over that gruesome driving guitar.

The title track is the gnarliest of all, growling and salivating like a frothing Rottweiler right up until the catchy chorus, yet throughout there’s that punk attitude as sweat drips from each instrument and waterfalls of rust continue to pour from the larynx and the bass rumbles like a Sherman tank. Hard to believe that these foetid dogs of war can just so effortlessly rip out 16 tracks; no filler but more a case of driller killer as ‘Down’ rages hard, ‘Rock ‘N’ Roll Medicine’ hammers in typical German fashion – clinical yet pounding and glinting with melody – ‘Bumsucker’ speeds with hostility, and ‘Sweet Little Rockabella’ applies extra layers of sleaze and steaming melody. And when this assault is over, we realise we’re not even halfway through!

Boy though, do the grime-busting gut-crunchers keep on rolling like empty beer cans on a windy street. ‘Magical Queen’ is a punked up riotous bop, ‘Maneater’ is another destructive German blitz, and ‘We Want More’ a dark, brooding number initially before the drums come banging in like another furious headache. And so with the last quartet of brain stirrers, we know what’s coming and yet we still hop on for the ride, whipped up into frenzy by the time the likes of ‘Psycho’, ‘Time Machine’ and ‘Real Life’ have had their feed like ravenous wolves who remain latched to the bones long after the flesh has been devoured.

Arguably one of the most drunken, high energy, balls-out records to be released in the last decade, Masturboned is the sort of album you hope will blow up your speakers and reduce your stereo to a pile of ash. And if it doesn’t, then you clearly are not worthy to witness this ferocious beast of German metal.

Neil Arnold

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