The brainchild of Oleg Gitarkin/Guitaracula of St. Petersburg, Russia, Messer Chups was conceived in 1998 as a side project to his prime output Ein Messer Für Frau Müller. A guitarist extraordinare, he took his love of 50’s rockabilly and 60’s surf, wrapped it up in the sounds of the all-night inner-city grind-house and added the trashiest ingredient to the mix – himself. The Chups got into full swing with arrival of Zombierella – a bass player with the looks of a vintage pin-up model. The duo became the core of a band that, through various incarnations, would welcome many other talented collaborators. The group’s albums never fail to amuse, oozing musical cocktails that range from the electronic exotica of the band’s early work, Miss Libido and Crazy Price ( Ipecac), to the exotic surf of Hyena Safari and Zombie Shopping. The fact that they are the hottest band around is beside the point. Live they are simply beautiful: guitars drenched in reverb, snippets of horror movies and burlesque acts on the screen, bass and drums pumping a steady backbeat to their nocturnal emission…MC and their fans had their heads shrunk by late-night b-movies. Take any good old Dracula, throw in some Orgy of the Dead and Dance of the Damned, blend it with the surf beats of The Ventures and the like and you are not even close, but you are on your way. This is the sort of music you would expect to hear coming from a car abandoned in a graveyard at midnight during a real-life Twighlight Zone.

Ichi-Bons are the reckless rock ‘n’ roll revival. Inspired by obscure surf, garage and Rockabilly 45’s, they combine the sounds of a raunchy vinyl DJ with a cranked rock ‘n’ roll band. From boppin’ garage to frantic rockabilly, from instrumental surf to desperate rock ‘n’ roll, Ichi-Bons are a stack of quarters on your favourite jukebox.

Black Widows is a punk surf-roxotica band from Minneapolis, Minnesota founded by guitarist Corinne Caouette and bassist Pamela Laizure. Kim Mancini has been holding down the drum throne since 2018. Black Widows’ storm of wily surf guitars and gritty girl-group harmonies ride the waves of easy, sleazy bass grooves and hip switchin,’ heavy hittin’ beats.

Bare knuckle, bar stool smashing rock and roll. Taking the stage like Bela Lugosi on a mechanical bull, Royal Son of a Guns belt out rip snorting roadhouse acid folk blues with heavy doses of surrealism. These bar stool smashing miscreants take Americana on a psycho-cathartic hayride through the thorny nettles of the American roots music underbelly with primitive guitars, relentless rat-a-tat washboard and a bedrock of bass guitar that will rattle your teeth. Dig.