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.....YOU FOUND THE INVISIBLE TEXT YOU SCAMP

ear candy:
THE SPRING OF '09 BATCH

- SCREAMIN' JAY HAWKINS
- CALEDONIA
- RUBY JEAN
- THE COURTEENERS
- PETER PROJECT
- WOODPIGEON
- JERRY LEGER
- HOT PANDA
- ULTIMATE POWER DUO
- SHANE PHILIP
- ELENI MANDELL
- ROBYN HITCHCOCK & THE VENUS 3
- FRANZ FERDINAND
- CAMERON LATIMER
- THE LONELY ISLAND
- THE UNITED STEEL WORKERS OF MONTREAL
- OBITS
- YUKON WOMEN IN MUSIC
- MELISSA MCCLELLAND
- KIM ESTY
- DEX ROMWEBER DUO
- KID CONGO POWERS AND THE PINK MONKEY BIRDS
- AGNOSTIC MOUNTAIN GOSPEL CHOIR
- ROCK PLAZA CENTRAL
- MELODY GARDOT

'08/09 xmas cheesecake BATCH

- HARRY CONNICK, JR.
- LOS LONELY BOYS
- GEORGE STRAIT
- BEVERLEY MAYHOOD
- NEIL SADAKA
- ELVIS
- SEAN JONES
- VARIOUS

SCREAMIN' JAY HAWKINS
THE WHAMEE 1953-55 (Rev-Ola)
Why the hell did Jalacy J Hawkins quit the ring after capturing the Alaskan middleweight title at the tender age of 21? Because there were bigger, and safer fish to fry. That's why. Trading in his boxing gloves for a coffin may have been the best face-saving decision of Screamin' Jay Hawkins' life. Emerging from a casket, clad in trademark leopard skin and red velvet outfits, cradling a shrunken head skull, Hawkins laid the foundation of theatrical shock rock, and this was all before Elvis started shaking his pelvis all over the place. With the staggering success of "I Put A Spell On You", Hawkins managed to stretch out a carnival show career till the coffin wouldn't open any more. As is often the case there's much more to be heard from a one hit wonder, and this little collection is a good place to start. Gathering early material from several labels, "The Whamee" shows Hawkins as a primo rhythm and blues crooner developing his throat gurgling scream to perfection, and among some rockin' sides includes a previously unissued simmering version of his calling song. Essential for any voodoo enthusiast.



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CALEDONIA
WE ARE AMERICA (Ind.)
I dare ya not to shout along to the killer refrain in "The Plague", I double dare ya. Caledonia has so many yummy aural tricks up it's sleeve, it's hard to stay away. Indie guitar rock blasts give way to super smooth Steely Dan style harmonies (without the syruppy jazz leanings), which in turn slip into a Cure guitar wall of sound. Juggling various styles in a seamless fashion is a gift, and Caledonia sequence their record in grand fashion. They wind it up with the gorgeously sprawling "Light Rock Station" which moprhs into the quiet noodle of "Alabama" without skipping a beat. Superb.



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RUBY JEAN
& THE THOUGHTFUL BEES (Youth Club)
Ruby Jean (not her real name) is apparently the new Madonna. Hmm, that could be the kiss of celeb death - see Miss Britney. Anyhoo, Ruby Jean (not her real name) does have the choppy dance, synthesized vocals thing going on, but the sound has enough kick ass industrial crunch to take it out of the mainstream gutter. In fact Ruby Jean (not her real name) delivers a surprising mix of trancy vibe and edgy rock to qualify as your favourite holiday ear candy. Yum.



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THE COURTEENERS
ST. JUDE (A&M)
In fine, smarmy Britpop fashion, the Courteeners roll out their ambitious debut platter without inclusion of their catchy single ("Acrylic"). Now everyone across the pond is in a huff, but I say so what? If the band wants to ensure anonymity in North America by delivery second rate goods then so be it. The Brits still buy singles and double dipping into yer pocket is a long standing tradition. Too bad such "rebellious" antics will only result in the bulging of delete bins over here, cuz these Manchester blokes will no doubt take their place in the Pulp/Oasis assembly line. You know: pompous rock gods in England, and chiefly ignored elsewhere. Sealed by the inevitable mispronunciation of their awkward name.



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PETER PROJECT
PETER PROJECT (Fuzzy Logic)
There's a saw on track three. And whilst you may conclude from that tiny bit of trivia that this here's some kind of kitschy lumberjack album, you would be dead wrong. Sculpted on Canadian soil it may be, but the music herein lies in that ethereal netherworld that exists in the vacuous void between your headphones. Trippy dippy chillout sonic waves will be lapping you all over; and you will like it. Peter Project (silly name, let's go on) is probably some pimply dude going to town on a Powerbook in his parents' basement, but hey, when the aural candy is this sweet, the source of such sample savvy lounge hip hop pop cycles is immaterial.



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WOODPIGEON
TREASURY LIBRARY CANADA (Boompa)
Violins, minor guitar chords, heavy breathing harmonies - this orchestral lo-fi is the suffocating stuff derailing the rock and roll train in favour of a sappy sweet pop malaise that pulls the envelope. Ah but you best check yer biker leathers for pastel colours at the door, cuz there's no denying the endearing quality of such pretty music. The hooks are subtle, but oh so plentiful. They swirl about, inducing a trance state, and soon the damn thing's permanently lodged in yer iPod cranium - and you can't erase the play list. Savoury, jingle jangly sonnets to wallow in at great depths during woe is me rainy periods, followed by the inevitable euphoric optimism as the sun breaks through (cue the string section). Lovely. If emo really has to exist, then this might as well be it.



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JERRY LEGER
YOU, ME AND THE HOUSE (Golden Rocket)
Banjo alert! Banjo alert! Shouldn't all CDs come with this sticker warning? Wait, there's more than just a sliver of a lining in this dark plume: string plucking folk such as this can not only be listenable, but at times, down right enjoyable. Fooled me too, as most home on the range numbers run tepid from the tap, but this one has some spark. Cowpoke Jerry has a welcome voice, an easy guitar strum, a fine fiddle player and the ability to spill his verse / chorus sequences just right. It's a cozy album, kinda lazy, warm and comfortable. And about that banjo: it's only around for short spell so get over it.



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HOT PANDA
VOLCANO ... BLOODY VOLCANO (Mint)
Hot damn this Panda cooks. Spunk rock (aka silly pop punk) rules. Clever he/she vocal trade-offs with choppy melodies make for hummable peppy tunes, which by the way, never go out of style. Who can hate a fun record? Exactly. Here's some titles to hammer the point home: "Afraid of the Weather", "Cold Hands/Chapped Lips" and "Whale Headed Girl". See, and just wait till you hear the damn thing! Keyboards and guitars battle in short bursts, setting up lyrics you can actually understand (and thus easily sing along to). Lift your heads shoegazers, this is what pop was meant to be. Anyways, it's about time someone resurrected the Tom Tom Club pom poms. Rah rah.



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ULTIMATE POWER DUO
NEW NORMAL (National Hearing Lab)
This just in: an unexpected Saskatchewan mild spell leads to music discovery. Originally suspended in a slab o' ice during a nasty 1979 freeze snap, the Ultimate Power Duo has thawed. Not skipping a beat, the (always numerically challenged) trio have consummated their much delayed long player, doubling the record previously held by Axl Rose for album completion. Worth the wait? You bet. Hell they start the record with "Count Chocula" - the cereal of choice for baby boomers everywhere (finally a use for Google). Mixing the now sound that is late seventies angular punk (think Wire) with a bit of classic melodic metal, the former boys, now men, show an aggressive musical strength that could only come with three decades of pent up frustration. Sadly, the original fans (groupies) have long since moved on.



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SHANE PHILIP
LIVE AT BAKER STUDIOS (Ind.)
Ok, how is this possible? How can one dude lay down tracks for nine hours, mix for twelve (with no dubs or loops) and produce a complex album of reggae, rock and tribal folk, on which he is the only player? Impossible. Then again one look at the dude (that would be Shane) and it may not seem so ludicrous. The record is a lush, sweeping opus that touches on many genres, showcasing Philip's obvious musical muscle. Anyone honking away on a didgeridoo, then sliding all over a guitar, then wailing on djembe drums, deserves respect. And hey, the tunes ain't that bad either. Especially the thumping "How Could You Know". It's sick (as in good - you know, the way kids talk). Now I wanna see how Philip pulls this off on stage.



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ELENI MANDELL
ARTIFICIAL FIRE (Zedtone)
L.A chanteuse Eleni Mandell has some kinda weird connection with Canada. She quickly name checks Montreal in the opening title track, a rhythmic number that pits her femme fatale vocals with striking guitar plucking. Full of tongue in cheek vamp, it is reminiscent of her most memorable work, but for whatever reason, she leaves that perfect groove behind to explore other waters. Here's where the hard part comes in. The rest of the album requires some effort on the listener's part. Mandel's vocals slip deep into the mix as she lets her crack band guide the trip. If you want to hear Mandell's golden throat directing traffic then this ain't the album, but if you're curious about her developing skills at intricate song structure (a unique and clever jazz pop blend) then please come in.



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ROBYN HITCHCOCK & THE VENUS 3
GOODNIGHT OSLO (Yep Roc)
What the hell? There was a time when Robyn Hitchcock could do no wrong. A time when he was leading the psychedelic Soft Boys through a glorious ride of stellar rock anthems peppered with oh so clever word play. It was great run of surrealistic pop stylings that may never be approached. Then Robyn started on a bizarre "one grand/ one tepid" album run that continues to this day. There's no rhyme nor reason for this schizophrenic late career swing, but safe to say, it is infuriatingly consistent. Unfortunately this is the tepid album on his recent pendulum swing. Meaning, an album that contains several gems (there's always something on a Hitchcock record deserving of your time), and some sappy misfires ("Up To Our Nex", "Intricate Thing"). Where's an editor when you need him? Worth it for the stellar "Your Head Here", the dreamy (well, nightmary) title track, and Peter Buck's stellar guitar licks, but you may wanna save yer Quid for the next one.



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FRANZ FERDINAND
TONIGHT: (Domino)
Hey Franz Ferdinand open with a bang on Cult impersonation. It's the cock rock machismo swagger that only a geetar dude and an edgy vocalist can muster. Presented in a series of thump-thumpitty -thump anthemic waves, it's the irresistible combo the ladies be lovin', and the gents be head bangin' to. Course they eventually slip back into the Franz pop sound that wins prestigious awards, satiates the masses and reminds everyone how grand eighties music really was. And anyone who says the eighties are dead, is wrong .... totally wrong.



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CAMERON LATIMER
FALLEN APART (Black Hen Music)
This doesn't look good. Spindly bangs from some strange, back to front combover. Creepy Deliverance style. Is Cameron Latimer having us on? Don't think so. The songs, all heart achy cowpoke numbers, are delivered with utmost sincerity and dexterous playing. Weepy guitar slides, wailin' fiddles and forlorn hiccuppy vocals make for a dessert classic, tumblin' tumbleweeds style. Funny how a Nanaimo gent can conjure the prairies ghost town vibe so effortlessly. Have the town barber revamp the do and then we're talkin'.



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THE LONELY ISLAND
INCREDIBAD (Universal Republic)
The best thing, no make that the only good thing, about the current version of SNL, is the sporadic Andy Samberg led music videos. A YouTube sensation (who has 90 minutes to waste on a Saturday night?), this clever series of video snippets repeatedly crosses the line of reality/parody. The subject matter ("Jizz In My Pants", "Dick In A Box") is frat boy har-har stuff presented in very high tech, very hi gloss, very professional film segments. Such quality mainstream hip pop laced with cutting subject matter sends streams of milk out of nostrils on a weekly basis. It's a piercing statement on the atrocious state of assembly line pap that is numbing the current teenage degeneration. If The Beastie Boys merged with The Jerky Boys and played ultra slick, big budget, faux soul boy band music, then it might sound something like this. Fine and good, but why compile this readily available internet stuff on an actual record (and of course, the obligatory accompanying bonus DVD)? Uh, money?



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THE UNITED STEEL WORKERS OF MONTREAL
THREE ON THE TREE (weewerk)
Good time, rollicking kickass country rock swing of the blue collar covering red neck variety goes down as good as the first pint at the local watering hole. Never mind that these fellas (and one gal) buck the current hipster Montreal trend, or that Hamilton is Canada's steel town, what matters here is the music: uppitty banjo and fiddle tunes to rouse any dungy drinking establishment into a foam spilling, do-si-doeing barnyard stomp. Good stuff reminiscent of what The Hard Rock Miners used to deliver back in the day: a heartfelt, rootsy soundtrack that's as perfect for your cross country car adventure, as it is your local Saturday night out. Songs about hockey riots, the 401, Jesus and the Devil. Number one on Don Cherry's playlist.



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OBITS
I BLAME YOU (Sub Pop)
Multiple choice pop quiz: Stealing The Amboy Dukes' classic "Journey To The Centre of Your Mind" guitar riff to open yer debut platter will either:
A - bring the wrath of baby boomer Ted Nugent fanatics
B - set the tone for a classic sounding album
C - confuse anyone born after the Nixon administration
The answer of course is D - all of the above. Good on the Obits, as they romp through a myriad of killer psychedelic rock styles, which sound surprisingly fresh. What goes around eh? Who knew chugging rhythm guitar, tasty lead licks, and a schreechy vocalist - basically The 13th Floor Elevators redux, would fly in this day and age? Story goes that this little band's first live gig was quickly bootlegged and passed around the internet. Enticing legendary label Sub Pop to jump in. Further proof that the web ain't killin' the music industry - it's reviving it.



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YUKON WOMEN IN MUSIC
TETHER HOOKS & VELCRO (YWIM)
Yes there are women up in the Yukon who play music, and here's proof. Started in '98 with but a couple of gals, the membership is now well into double digits. It's a laid back community who dabble in the usual backwoodsy styles of music: folk, country, pop, a bit of bluegrass. Now before you start your extended arm yawn, please do check out Angel Hall and her rapturous track "The Mother Ship". It's a thing of beauty, acheiving the elusive goal the collective are striving for: a clever Lucinda Williams style cowgirl classic. More Angel Hall please.



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MELISSA MCCLELLAND
VICTORIA DAY (Six Shooter)
Remember Dusty Springfield? Back in the day she managed to bridge country, soul and standard sugar pop (Burt Bacharach style) without missing a beat. It may not have been earth shattering, but a feat few have managed to emulate with any semblance of success. Which brings us to Melissa McClel land's latest entry into the recording world. After a particularly fetching album ("Thumbellina's One Night Stand") riddled with enough snappy nuggets to place McClelland among Canada's elite songstresses (a formidable group these days), she follows with the far reaching "Victoria Day". It's an ambitious potpourri of styles delivered with panache and a maturity bellying her unadvanced age. Containing yet another set of killer singles in "Glenrio" and "Seasoned Lovers", it is an odd, adult contemporary album filled with lush orchestral pieces and even some jumpy swing tunes. This may confuse her fans, but anyone channelling Judy Garland and Dusty in this day and age deserves some props.



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KIM ESTY
THE BEST OF (Squeezetoystudios)
Kim Esty should really be one name, as in: Kimesty is the besty. And besty is what we get here. Can you believe having "Summer In The Streets" (apparently still a crowd favourite), "Two Of Hearts" (gold in Canada) and "Squeezetoy" (Debuted at #1) on the same disc? Heck "Squeezetoy" stayed on top of Billboard for (quote) a historic record FOUR weeks! Which begs the question: Where the hell was I? How could I have missed this cross country phenomena, and why didn't anyone wake me? There's no denying the lure of Kimesty's processed vocals, the stacks of synthesizers flushing out the sound, nor the brilliantly basic beats even awkward white guys will attempt to groove to. It's simply Kimtastic!



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DEX ROMWEBER DUO
RUINS OF BERLIN (Bloodshot)
Wait a minute: a guitar dude decides to hook up with his sister for a primal, bluesy duo excursion. Sounds familiar, but before the White Stripes comparisons start flying please remember this: Dex Romweber pretty well invented the guitar and drum format with his influential Flat Duo Jets project back in '83. In fact Jack White sites 'em as a chief influence, and has recently coerced Dex into the studio for some collaboration. Nice history, but what about the music you say? Well hang on, cuz it gets even better. After a sizzling solo slab, Dex finally puts all his string bending talents together in his most diverse, and best sounding slab to date. There's killer surfy runs, sweet Buddy Holly melodies, some fine rockabilly begging for Robert Gordon coverage, and of course, the trademark blues beaters. To match his dexterous guitar flexibility, Romweber has developed a deep, resonant croon. It's the album of his career, and that's saying something.



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KID CONGO POWERS AND THE PINK MONKEY BIRDS
DRACULA BOOTS (In The Red)
The Kid is hot tonight - sorry, couldn't resist, but it's true. Cutting his fangs on lead guitar for the likes of The Gun Club, The Cramps and Nick Cave, Kid Congo Powers slithers stage front for a crazed, psychedelic platter brimming with sixties style spoken blurbs, greasy rhythms, fuzzy biker guitars and no frills, no fills beatbox drumming. Stripping rock down to it's bare essentials (danger and lust), agitating the mix with some hoodoo voodoo, Powers rekindles the smoke filled room, bubble slide magic of a lost generation, who mistook music as a life altering substance. And, pssst .... it is. You will be shaken, and you will be stirred.



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AGNOSTIC MOUNTAIN GOSPEL CHOIR
TEN THOUSAND (Shoutin' Abner Pim)
About every year or so, these here hill people come down to hoist their backwoods mauling of traditional song upon the masses. And it is good. Preachin' country blues with Old Testament vigour, but void of spiritual hypnosis, this Choir rolls out old timey sounds for folks vehemently clutching their wind up 78 players. Raspy voices, rusty kitchen utensils, splintered string boxes - it's a dustbowl masterpiece of pots and pans clamour that goes down smooth as Grannie's triple X hooch. Gulp.



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ROCK PLAZA CENTRAL
...AT THE MOMENT OF OUR MOST NEEDING (Paper Bag Music)
You weary of quiet Canadian collectives championed so eloquently by Pitchforkmedia and their multi-syllabic prose? Me too. Rock Plaza Central, and their ridiculous album title (there's 13 more words in the subtitle) play so softly that when the band kicks it up, your volume will be at eleven, and there will be a blast of smoke from the speakers. No frets though, as the perpetrators quickly dip again to mousy levels. Creaky violins and Chris Eaton's creaky vocals are a perfect match, and really not suited for double digit decibel levels. By the time the Plaza put the Rock in their song (on the beautiful "The Wrong Side of the Right"), the table is fully set. If you can experience the set up in proper context (no skip button), the payoff is well worth it. One of the few bands to employ trumpets in a non-detrimental fashion.



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MELODY GARDOT
MY ONE AND ONLY THRILL (Verve)
Scat alert. The lady has some chutzpah, give her that. Melody Gardot is the perfect Verve chanteuse: brash, breezy, able to sift easily from jazz to pop. Two things make her unique. One, she is very, very young. And two, she writes her own material. A bit mind-boggling considering the scope of this material. Burt Bacharach, Stan Getz, Peggy Lee - name your reference point. Tasty arrangements, supple piano playing, and a confident, yet understated golden vocal will make Miss Gardot l'etoile she sings about. An album sorely out of time, but gloriously so.


special bonus -
left over CHRISTMAS CHEESE
- the very best of the 08/09 Holiday Aural Fruit Cake


HARRY CONNICK, JR.
WHAT A NIGHT! (Columbia)
Hey hep cats it's creepy uncle Harry (check out the airbrushed skin tone) coming atcha with his Sinatra Senior routine. All the Christmassy standards you can handle, and then some. Warning: this ain't got the lovable mid sixties rat pack boozy banter yer folks would dig, but it does have plenty of bombastic crooning, a whip ass horn section, and the heppest title of the season in "Zat You Santa Claus". Finger-snapping good.



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LOS LONELY BOYS
CHRISTMAS SPIRIT (Epic)
What could be more Christmassy than a soulful R&B power trio mangling holiday tunes with a Latin flare? Nothing, and here it is. Extra bonus points for having a drummer named Ringo, reworking Jose Feliciano's "Feliz Navidad" (that never gets old does it?), and the horrific Jimmy Durante impersonation on "Jingle Bells".



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GEORGE STRAIT
CLASSIC CHRISTMAS (MCA Nashville)
Nothing says Christmas like a fancy black hat, a big ass belt buckle, and a slide guitar. Country Christmas for all the kinfolk (so it says). Polish your rhinestones and pop the Jack Daniels cuz you'll need it.



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BEVERLEY MAYHOOD
THIS CHRISTMAS, CELEBRATE ME HOME (Road Angel)
I really don't have a review here - it's just fun to write Beverley MANHOOD. Beverley MANHOOD - boy that feels good. Beverley MANHOOD. Oh no, wait ... it's Mayhood. Never mind. Let's move on.



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NEIL SADAKA
THE MIRACLE OF CHRISTMAS (Razor & Tie)
Can this be? Neil Sadaka's first ever Christmas album? Who dropped the ball on this one for the last fifty years? Anyhoo, here we are with all those missed opportunities righted at last, and in a glorious double CD pack to slip under yonder conifer. Amazingly Neil sounds just like did when he was a little girl. Terrific.



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ELVIS
CHRISTMAS DUETS (RCA)
I thought Elvis had passed, but here he is warbling away all ooby doobie like on chestnut nuggets "Blue Christmas", White Christmas" and all other Christmas colours in between, with the likes of Wynonna Judd, Olivia Newton-John and our very own Anne Murray - many of whom are still alive and kicking. Who knew?



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SEAN JONES
A BIG BOX OF SOUL FOR CHRISTMAS (BFM)
I know what you're saying, Sean does have a wonderful chestnuts roasting on a hibachi voice, but why doesn't he stretch himself and try the Pavarotti route? Done. Among a handful of fuzzy warm soul nuggets, Sean tackles "Ava Maria". Christmas will never be the same again.



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VARIOUS
WE WISH YOU A METAL XMAS AND A HEADBANGING NEW YEAR (Armoury)
At last, a Yuletide album you can throw up the devil sign to. Absolutely bitchin' cranked classics from metal gods like Lemmy, Alice and Dio, are totally wicked. The perfect soundtrack for smashing Christmas lights, setting the tree on fire and starting fruit cake food fights - all in a totally righteous way dude.



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