Holy smokes, folks! You might find this unfathomable, but it's been a minute since we've lost our collective shit to a band like "this"... THIS means J.C. THOMAZ and the MISSING SLIPPERS, and seldom do creepy crews come swinging out the jungle on a bender formulated to execute the switchblade stomp with the swagger of a swamp rat. Until today, our Rotterdam ruffians have been making that racket going on 15 years with one krummy single to show for it (and by krummy we mean killer), but the Missing Slippers, under the tardy direction of J.C THOMAZ, have nailed down 13 ragers for a long-player for the ages. By the album's third track, the dirty fuzz twister "Gimme Your Love," you'll have forgotten your name and if you put on your underwear today, and it only gets hairier from there... We're fer sure here for moments like "Kirsty" that sound like Suicide, if Suicide wasn't so fuckin' weird, but just fuckin' weird enough, and "Kelly Lynn" that conjures the most sincere Lux Interior since Cheater Slicks covered Bill Allen's "Please Give Me Something" and gave it the royal Cramps treatment. The electrocution intensifies as the twist and grind mutates into mysterious come-down territory, with cunning waves of peak synesthesia on "Shit on the Streets," proving that (more...)