Dynamite

Buenos' Aires' recently arisen Bulletproöf (scratch "Mulletproof") has made its galvanized, pate shaking way unto the Metal Archives repertoire, courtesy of Deutschland's wojty666, notwithstanding fact yours truly attempted the feat weeks prior, only to be refused due to lack of physical evidence. Them the breaks, but also noticed the Argentinian quartet's vocalist/axe man is none other than Poli Serafini, of equally nascent Craft Sword repute.

Minus latter's epically antiquated bent, Bulletproöf plays a congenial, (s)low-ish mid-tempo twist on golden age Accept and Running Wild, whilst also reminding me of Finland's heart-stopping Coronary. Ergo, a melange of swarthy and anthemic rousers which waste no time sweeping listeners along to retro, 1980s evoking Dynamite EP, released this month, digitally and on layman's cassette under Cuervo Records, they of ribald Steelballs patronage.

Formed in 2017 and comprised of fellow traditional "motards" Ariel García (of Osmosis) on guitar, bassist Martín De Bonis and ex-Montreal drummer Matías Pena, Bulletproöf "explosively" sticks it to us on opener "Banners High" - Eternal Champ is proud - perhaps the sole, shall I say, less dynamic or throttling track. However, this doesn't prevent Serafini from exercising certain firebug proclivities by means of grotty, phlegmatic vocals (in both sound and essence) and a clear command of English, where we hang, high and dry, on every Earth quaking word.

All around, choruses rock harder than Freddie Mercury in his heyday; once the hard-driving and ever-fuelled "Dynamite" proper blows up in our adamantly grimacing faces, all bets and codpieces are off. The actual musicianship is nothing out of this World - except maybe for these wicked, fun-loving solos which take off at every knuckle-dragging turn, alongside killer main riff to "Flags of Freedom". Beginning with a stomping, AOR reminiscent drum beat and throbbing, pulsing bass - the kind Rudy Sarzo and Bob Daisley would approve of - this winner makes kick-ass use of its utterly slack n' sleazy momentum, kind of similar to Judas Priest's "Rock You All Around The World", but with way more character.

Leads occasionally feature Tony Iommi's singularly sharpened, diabolical flair, and I'd be lying by omission not to exclaim (maybe a touch too eagerly) how much this release also brings me back to Slade's cheesy, albeit wondrous, Keep Your Hands Off My Power Supply, from 1984. "Fist Pounding" is another haymaker which suits both illegal drag-racing/911 pursuits and stalled big city traffic jams, alike. Try to dismiss its allegorically fun refrain, and let us know how that works out. Closer "Feel The Heat" starts off with a down-home, GNR' (circa "Lies") style clean blues shuffle-slam before turning it up, combining sardonic chutzpah with mesmeric Rob Halfordian poise...

Indeed, Bulletproöf's Dynamite sounds exactly like it says - no matter who said it first.