Purple Rhinestone Eagle/Northern Swords/Forsorcerers
Fantasy Quest 7″
Poison Apple

What the fuck is going on in Portland, Oregon? I thought my recent discovery of Purple Rhinestone Eagle was rare, but it turns out the whole town is full of secret covens in hidden lairs amassing a cohesive army of high priestess power, steadying themselves to strike like a seething force of Joan of Arcs. Joining Purple Rhinestone Eagle on this particular battlefield (Poison Apple’s split seven inch, Fantasy Quest, from November 2009) are Northern Swords and Forsorcerers, and together they rock in the name of glory, freedom, honour, and death.

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Black Wizard
Black Wizard
Self-released

Ok, so I’m not sure this album is entirely new, but it’s new to me, and as you’re reading this the young Canucks in Black Wizard are putting the finishing touches on the vinyl version, so that’ll be new, got it? And by finishing touches I mean they are silk screening every single goddamn record jacket. That’s instant cred right there, and not just because I have a raging boner for all things rock n’ roll and all things silk screen, but because there’s no doubt that during this awesomely messy DIY process one of ‘em will get ripped to the tits on cheap beer, lose a finger tip in a freak silk screening accident, and bleed all over the freshly painted jackets. I would kill a child with a shoe to get my hands on one of those soiled copies, let me tell you.

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Barn Burner
Bangers
Metal Blade

Barn Burner, you raggedy sons-of-bitches! Are you fucking kidding me? Just when I thought Montreal’s world-eating rock n’ roll machine couldn’t possibly get any meaner, you come bustin’ out of a mile-high pile of crushed PBR cans in some wood-paneled den in your flannel and denim like you’re the goddamn Kings of the Rotten, set my beard on fire, and then piss on the flames. Now the smoke is burnin’ my eyes and I smell like a wino in a litter box, but I’ll be damned if I’m not the happiest rat crawlin’ in the rock n’ roll gutter. I mean, this album right here is the reason I do what I do, that’s for damn sure. It breaks my beard, boy-o.

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