Since the mid 90's as the guitar slinger in forgotten but rockin' meat and potatoes punkers the Halfways, Hot LZ's head slimeball Mark Death has never hidden away his reverence for Mr. John Anthony Genzale, Jr. In a way where he probably actually refers to him as Mr John Anthony Genzale, Jr. instead calling him by the name most know him as-Johnny Thunders.
Hell, so much as where most people would get a LAMF tattoo-Mark's says LIKE A MOTHER FUCKER underneath it just so everyone knows what it exactly means. Such things do need to be clarified at time.
The recording here sounds like it was made on a beer can deposit budget. The sleeve design, save for the weird waxy substance the cover is slathered in to make it glow in the dark, looks even lower budget.
Death's half slurred/half prop-er-ly e-nun-ci-ated vocal cadences on these four songs sound like something scraped off the bottom of Cuban heels and as wishing to be as New York City as a drunken love child of Thunders and coked up Ace Frehley with lyrics to match while his guitar solos blurt and blare that thing that launched a billion punk rock guitar heroes who will admit to only a very chosen few that they tried to nick from Keith Richards but they couldn't figure out to play them right.
The Hot LZ's are not gonna blow any minds or knock down any walls by taking punk rock somewhere it hasn't been before. I don't think they really care either. They probably do dream of playing for 1000's of rowdy fans where girls will throw their panties at them but will settle for payments of free booze, gas money and a handjob in the parking lot.
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Hell, so much as where most people would get a LAMF tattoo-Mark's says LIKE A MOTHER FUCKER underneath it just so everyone knows what it exactly means. Such things do need to be clarified at time.The recording here sounds like it was made on a beer can deposit budget. The sleeve design, save for the weird waxy substance the cover is slathered in to make it glow in the dark, looks even lower budget.
Death's half slurred/half prop-er-ly e-nun-ci-ated vocal cadences on these four songs sound like something scraped off the bottom of Cuban heels and as wishing to be as New York City as a drunken love child of Thunders and coked up Ace Frehley with lyrics to match while his guitar solos blurt and blare that thing that launched a billion punk rock guitar heroes who will admit to only a very chosen few that they tried to nick from Keith Richards but they couldn't figure out to play them right.
The Hot LZ's are not gonna blow any minds or knock down any walls by taking punk rock somewhere it hasn't been before. I don't think they really care either. They probably do dream of playing for 1000's of rowdy fans where girls will throw their panties at them but will settle for payments of free booze, gas money and a handjob in the parking lot.
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