Arriving from Herndon, Virginia in a psychic blizzard of garage-birthed fury and fuzz-crazed abandon, Satan's Satyrs stand proud as a malignant manifestation of all that's debauched and demented in heavy music. What's more, their incoming third album, "Don't Deliver Us", beamed in from a metaphysical zone of over-amped '70s power trio action and exploitation-movie malice, may well be the most gory and glorious thing they've thus far wrenched into creation. A new wild outpost in a freakrock lineage that extends from Edgar Broughton Band and Blue Cheer through Alice Cooper, Mountain and beyond, this is a significantly more stripped down, raw and intense listen than its predecessor "Die Screaming". "We wanted to recapture the primitive thrust of rock 'n' roll to our sound" asserts frontman Clayton Burgess, also of Electric Wizard, who indeed recently achieved the considerable feat of completing a Stateside sell-out tour performing double-duty in both bands. That was an absolutely exhilarating experience for us in Satyrs, he enthuses. It made us so much tighter as musicians and bandmates. The rush of playing in front of so many people, we live for that. Indeed, not only have Satans Satyrs recovered the heinous in-the-red overload that characterised their debut cult classic Wild Beyond Belief, yet whilst that album was made entirely by Burgess himself, "Dont Deliver Us" boasts an electrifying band chemistry palpable throughout gonzo sonic debacles like the alarmingly catchy garage-stomper "(Wont You Be My) Gravedancer" and the Stoogian and stygian "Full Moon And Empty Veins".