Demo 2018

Good ole Coronary. Strutting its hellbent and belligerent whippersnapper ways with a groovily caroming, as well as independent and strictly limited (on cassette, one hundred-fold), 3-track demo lasting a minute short of a quarter-hour is Finland's f(l)avored gang of wicked and crochety sleaze-baggers, whose capillary bursting Armour-meets-Priest-meets-Ratt-meets-Eliminator overtones greased by a (Molotov) cocktail of sweat, venom and tears are, wouldn't ya know (it), just what Doctor Feelgood ordered...Pass the custard, please!

Without missing a beat (or silver slipper), "Firewing" heartily skips along in a similarly compact and shuffle-some manner as Priest's "Rapid Fire" or "Exciter", yet without kow-towing to the masters, in addition to retaining a trademark sloppy shuffle and sinewy motion as it lopes along with rocksteady and bebopping strides - in other, less cartoon-y werdz, imagine JP at its most crisp and salubrious (not to mention seedy and salacious) i.e. the oh-so-exalted Hero Hero, Sin After Sin, and Stained Class years. The Coronary-er is also a mite more fleeting and freshly-pressed than, say, fellow one-off, scruffy countrymen Armour, but, thankfully, much less tacky and green than Lord Fist(er)'s Green Eyleen (released in 2015 with the arcane, emblematic feel of 1983). Most paramount, it graduates the school of Dixie rock with flying colors, especially as an opener for being simultaneously brisk, compact and flawlessly paced, if not loudly lewd.

The drums and bass sound as organic and fresh whilst the production/mixing manages to place the band's stark heat-seeking vigor right in the zone, turning the demo into a vehemently gripping and hyper-auspicious (love) affair. A scorching and downright telescopic shit-faced squealer of a guitar solo precisely two minutes in seals the deal in both vestal claret and a flash of lightning prior to an inconspicuous but highly effective return to greasy, supersonic form.

The best is yet to come, though, as the stand-out piece, "Bullet Train", pulls in blasting its loco(motive) choo choo whistle by way of ridiculously bad-ass "stop n' go" rhythm action - which duly captures Coronary's naughty, pan-fried tone - complimented by tension-ed "Hook In Mouth" (old Megadeth) fashioned suspense before acceding to a wry and dry triplet gallop (riff) culminating in one of the more loquacious and raunchy refrains heard this side of Intercourse, Pennsylvania or say, Climax, Georgia.

Hot damn! I never fail to break out in stitches whenever the genially sardonic front man churns out his Saturday best with the following cob-knobbler of a chorus: "High speeding wheels in the air/200 miles you know where/I´ll be your Super Express/I want your love and your...[bleep!]". (You can guffaw now.)

The low-down and dirty momentum which frames the entire she-bang constitutes essential listening for any metal head. Actually, to these easily impressionable rocker's ears, it evokes an acute melange of Iron Maiden's obscure gem, "Sun And Steel" and Cast Iron's even rarer biker cum jailbird jamboree, "Running From The Law", with uproariously befitting hallucinatory glimpses of Twisted Sister's immortal(ized) "We're Not Going To Take It". (Put that in your rig and shoot it!)

Wantonly self-destructive quip aside, its seizing, hip flouting development begs several repeated listens, along with a righteous bridge (guitar) harmony leading to one helluva of a flame-broiled knicker-twister of a lead or so at the behest of buddy's fey "Oooh! Baby! You know what I'm talkin'about...Hmmm...aha!......AAAAH!". Never mind its glaring "fromage" factor - in this smutty context, it works!

(Arterial valve) Closer "Mentengo", for its slyly hedonistic part, conjoins rough n' tough albeit placidly poised swooning tinged with feather-winged but no less sinewy NWOBHM/early 80s elements akin to Wolf (not those lead crazed Swedes an un-tamed number of us here are heads over heels over, but the ruefully rocking and coy Brits of Edge of the World repute), Overdrive and New Zealand's gritty and melodic Stonehedge, circa 1986 (the year Chernobyl went "kabloooey!").

(A bit of fair warning here:) A Mustang engine roaring introduction wheezes sordid(ly)-like in front of a "steel-wing'd" menace of a power waltz fortuitously elevated to expressway zooming grandeur with the oh-so-rocking advent of a stark, Bobby-Liebling-esque post-solo (late) bridge lasting a half-minute or so towards the end, which, by all rights, ends things on a colloquial high note. This slick and ambitious bit of caustic pentatonic revelry follows a rampantly wizened and Southern U.S. blues-fused rout of a lead - plastered throughout, no less, with leisurely cowbell "tocks"- sure to tip the scales in this under-dogged winner's favor. In other, not-so-crapulous or scrupulous words, consider said magical, however brief, U-turn a masterstroke in the name of all that's flighty and mighty.

Additionally, it takes a few trusty spins to warm up to since it's not nearly as razzle-dazzle and/or rife with glitter n' glitz as its unruly, throat grabbing, fool-hardy predecessors, so loquaciously jawed upon above. Therefore, skeptics and doubters are raucously invited to have their faces seared off by this here painfully short demo, courtesy of Tampere's Coronary. It'll only take fourteen minutes, and, from an affably enthused metal f(r)iend to another, I'll be dog tired and hog-wired should the socking and thwock-ing "Firewing"/"Bullet Train" supersize combo fails to tickle more than just fancyies. Kudos for that jutting, villainous rascal, "Mentengo", should it decline to, ah, summon your inner Wendigo...

There, you've no choice now but to embrace my solemn, none-too-silent assurances.

"Red light or green light, it´s all the same
Nothing can stop me, I'm on my way
Straight through your love wall, knocking like a ram
I´m riding, steaming, cracking and rolling, mam!"

p.s. Shame on whomever replaced the original, lasciviously killer cover photo...