People sometimes forget, but like 20 years ago, Scandinavia saved rock’n’roll. I mean, it was pretty grim out there in 1999, an endless, numbing void of nu metal and pseudo-industrial pop and washed-out has-beens before the Hellacopters, Gluecifer and Turbonegro rode in on their longboats and straightened us all the fuck out.
The Curse follow in their fine ankle-booted footsteps with this effortlessly confident display of Swedish action rock, all snarls and switchblades and tight denim and sex-soaked rifforama.
Calcutta Sunrise is the band’s third album and it’s a total jammer from end to end. The beauty of The Curse is that they get how rock’n’roll works – every song’s got a hook and they get in and out in two minutes flat.
It’s all meat, no flab, and it ain’t pretty, either – every song is either about some dick they know (No Doubt About You, King Of Irritation) or some ruined party (City Of The Dead, Let’s Settle The Score). An instant classic.
