She plays a piggy guitar, he drums, they both sing. The explosive mix of lots of garage, twang, punk and rock'n'roll makes this one of the most promising trash albums since the White Stripes with strong echoes of Ikara Colt or the legendary False Virgins. Some things on "Man, Woman, Beast" are even reminiscent of the crazy fripperiness of the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion or the irresistible glamrock of T. Rex. Especially the guitar sound of Carley Wolf evokes memories of Marc Bolan. Her husband Jonathan Wolf is so full of relish that it is a real pleasure to listen to him. The songs are short (sometimes they don't even reach the two-minute limit) and crisp. They animate you - as stupid as it may sound - to grölen along. 13 lascivious lane hits, of which not much more can be said than that they are a lot of fun. And it can be assumed that the two young debutants have not yet shot their ammunition with this record.
Top Track: Ride The Wolf