Frenzal Rhomb & Snotty Cheekbones

Back in the mire of the early nineties, from somewhere beneath a pile of wallet chains and cut-off army pants Frenzal Rhomb emerged, their white suburban fingers clutching onto goon casks and bucket bongs and other appropriate paraphernalia. Before too long those fingers wrote riffs and those riffs became songs and their voices sung rhyming swear words in perfect(ish) three-part harmony. This went on for a while.

In fact all the way to now. After countless world tours (if you’ve counted them, please let us know for taxation purposes), sharing the stage with everyone from NoFX to Nickelback (that was actually at the same gig). Playing all around Australia, from Broome to Bunbury and Bundaberg to Brunswick, offending and entertaining people in equal measure along the way. Being welcomed into people’s lives and banned from radio stations, often for the same reasons. The dubious (if unofficial) honour of being the most hospitalised band in the world – everything from broken drumming arms and detached guitar-playing retinas to an actual pig-borne tapeworm in the lead singer’s brain – it’s amazing that Frenzal Rhomb are here at all.

But Frenzal Rhomb ARE still here, and they’ve just released their tenth album! (Or are about to release it, depending on when you’re reading this; in fact they could have released it ages ago, if for example you’re reading this years into the future. If so, how are we holding up? Can we tour via teleportation yet? Or is the world a barren wasteland?)

Anyway, new album, The Cup Of Pestilence, our tenth out now/soon/still.

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