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WAR DOGS
War Dogs EP

Self-release (2018)
Rating: 6/10

War Dogs, consisting of vocalist Alberto Rodríguez, lead guitarist Eduardo Antón, rhythm guitarist Enrique Mas, bassist Manuel Molina and drummer Jóse Vicente Aldeguer, provide a rather standard EP that relies heavily on that New Wave Of British Heavy Metal vibe.

The guys, hailing from Spain, are a new name to me, but this six-track EP does enough to entertain in spite of its obvious faults. However, like so many new bands aping the past, War Dogs approach comes with certain shades of charm as they operate within their own mini-fortress of sound.

Alberto Rodríguez’s vocals are somewhat of a slightly off-key warble, while the ensemble behind him creates a steady, albeit at times loose ‘n’ naïve rumble to create rather by-numbers grumbles such as ‘Back For The Attack’, which also bring a lo-fi sort of melody that sticks immediately. ‘Playing With Fire’ and ‘Immortal’s Lament’ offer the same sort of muddy heavy metal machinery. Cast these back to 1986 and they wouldn’t see the light of day, but for now War Dogs operate the same clogged and clumpy vehicle as old Baron Rojo – clanking with obstinacy under leaden skies.

‘Midnight Whisper’ hisses and rattles like an age-old iron serpent. The track borders on speed metal fury, rumbling until the nuts and bolts fall off, everything feeling a tad restricted…maybe laboured, and yet War Dogs plough on, slightly out of control but enthused by their own aimless performances as the drums stagger and the bass plonks. Then ‘Rampage’ skips in on a demo quality trudge, and Rodríguez’s warrior wails bid to combat the swirls of black, doom-laden smoke coughed up by the axe attack.

This time War Dogs become more rabid, hunting down the ears like a ravenous wolf pack and adding extra sprigs of sprightly structuring, but ‘To Live To Fight Another Day’ seems to follow the exact same route as earlier tracks, only this time Rodríguez’s gasps are more for a lost cause. “We live to fight another day” he bellows in rather unconvincing fashion as another routine chug is thrown at you; the War Dogs now seemingly ail by their rather limited expressions, their shaggy coats now wearing thin and flecked with grey.

Fight on they do though, attempting to prove their “metal to the bone” prowess as with fangs bared they go in for another battle, the churning rust bucket guitars giving off 80s-styled generic wisps as finally such primal, throwback musings are snuffed out in the dim light.

Neil Arnold

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