REVIEW: SHOTGUN MISTRESS – KINGS OF THE REVOLUTION (2024)

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Only a band for four years, Shotgun Mistress have taken Australia by storm already, and now it’s our turn.

They’ve just played a festival called Glamfest with the likes of Slaughter and Lynch Mob (massive bonus points here) and the title track alone will be enough to show how they got there.

More aggressive than late 80s sleaze, nonetheless, they know how to be up all night, as it were.

“Sweet Woman” sounds like the last thing they want is a sweet woman, “Shot Down” will have you reaching for your nearest copy of Skid Row’s debut, and the way that singer Glenn Patrick roars his way through “Jude Judas” is proof that they found the right man in the end.

If, like me, you grew up in the 80s and the only way through neo-capitalism and Thatcher’s disaster was to escape into hard rock, you can’t help but feel nostalgic for the old days on the likes “From Hell” and even “Mary Jane” – let’s be honest here, the title alone is a cliché – is better than you’d imagine (and features Electric Mary man Rusty Brown).

The band are at their best, though, when they sound like their heroes but remember it’s 2024, as on “Headspace” for example, or the righteous indignation of “Addicted To Pain”, which you could imagine Slash getting a Gold Disc for.

Speaking of GnR (these things aren’t just cobbled together, you know….) you won’t have to look too hard to find “Patience” in the acoustics (and whistling) in “Welcome To The Fight”.

If that’s the one ballad here, then SM are happier being the last gang in town, like they are on “Alright” and you have to say too, that renowned guitarist Matt Wilcock is exceptional throughout this. His riffing makes this, and not least the last one, “Down”.

Maybe not revolutionary, given that we’ve all probably heard this before, but if you like your hard rock to sound like its 1989, but crucially not to be a dated, spandex-wearing, sexist load of old nonsense that sounds awful in 2024, then Shotgun Mistress are the band for you.

In a week where Bon Jovi released a record that was …ok…but sounded as dangerous as a mug of Ovaltine, meet the way it can still throw down.

Rating 8.5/10

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