Impossibly hip rubberlegged glitter-garage punk from Paris that sounds like a singing, dancing street gang in leather jackets, glugging champagne in a graveyard. This is a collection of tight jams for dudes who shave with switchblades and the women who will bury them after their drunk motorcycle accidents. If you don’t get it, you ain’t got it.
Dr. Chan - Southside Suicide album review
The best Sleaze you can get this month
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