Wolverhampton based heavy-weights God Damn make music that appears - initially at least - as curt and brutish as their name suggests. A curse word. A blasphemous affront to Him upstairs. God Damn. A name to be rolled around the mouth and spat out, a rheumy glob onto English pavements. But scrape away the layer of the greasy grime that coats their early singles like bacon fat in a post-hangover fry-up skillet and there is much more on debut album Vultures than just machismo, bombast and bluster. There is nuance and melody. Purpose and meaning. Heartfelt intent.
Vultures is a stunning and diverse debut, a dizzying blend of barbed wire guitars, lung-shredding vocals and drums that run away like wild horses and is due for release this coming May 11th on One Little Indian Records.
Further cementing their reputation as one of the loudest, most head-pummeling live bands in the UK, God Damn will be bringing their noise to the SXSW Festival in Texas, as well as joining cult Irish rockers Therapy? in Europe, before headlining their own UK tour in May and detonating at the Download Festival in June.
Vultures presents a universe of sound, from the low-end melodic boom of sneering anthem ‘Silver Spooned’ through the sub-dark psychedelic breakdown of ‘We Don’t Like You’ to the unexpected lo-fi strummed opening of the throbbing and utterly tumescent nine-minute sludge epic ‘Skeletons’. As debuts go God Damn have nailed their colours to the flagpole and torched the fucker.