Album Review: The Decent of Decency – Footprints in the Custard

FitC

You’re all invited to The Descent of Decency! Lords of the obscene, Manchester-based Comedy Punk metallers Footprints in the Custard present their third tongue-in-cheek album that is sure to ruffle your truffle. If you like music about bodily fluids, getting wasted, or just like to party, then these are your guys.

Listening to these guys is like the urge to lick a pole of ice knowing your tongue is going to get stuck: you’re going to do it anyway.

Warning: Avoid hot beverages while listening to this band, the content is a choking hazard. High risk of spillage and crotch burning.

Mischief is afoot with the first track Year of the Weasel. I can practically hear Austin Powers screaming ‘groovy baby’ at the crunchy chords and rhythms.  It’s laced with irony and sarcasm, making it hard not to imagine the band prancing about in mankinis and tutus, something they frequently do in live performance.

Then rolls on the tale of Wankclaw. Yes, wankclaw: the tale of spanking man meat raw and rising heroically to invoke terror to slacking peckers. The heavy breakdowns contrast with the light vocal choruses. Even though the content is laced with humour, this is hard-hitting metal: breakdowns, growls and dynamic rhythms.

Title track time! The Descent of Decency is heavy and melodic. Images of purple and green are invoked by the lyrics, conjuring an image of a less friendly Barney the dinosaur. Chant-worthy and melodically catchy with a sassy solo that induces side-effects of head-banging and feet stamping.

Bring the booze and turn up your radio, it’s time for Party Metal! Rock out with a beer or five,  punky riffs and forceful rhythms act as the perfect side-dish for getting annihilated. This track is so up-beat it makes you jump around like a Tasmanian devil.

Footprints in the Custard

Try not to lose your underwear people because this could get messy!  The album is a continuous punchline, flitting through tracks like Hanging out with David Carridine and  Close Enough to Clunge venturing into uncharted and perverse territory. It’s so over the top, so gross, so graphic, so inappropriate, so insanely… dafuq?!  Seriously, it’s like a dictionary for euphemisms for genitalia. It has the same impact as Cannibal Corpse lyrics: you’re pretty grossed out but like a bug to a bright electric zapper, you can’t stop going back for more. Game of Thrones references, getting stabbed while having sex on a bouncy castle…what kind of madness is this?! Madness is a sign of genius though, right?

The five lads are what metal needs right now. Especially in the joke of a world we live in. They’re tongue-in-cheek- tastic! Heck if you can’t laugh at yourself, how can you laugh at anybody else? Raise your banners high for the masters of filth!

Overall Rating: 8/10

Band Members:

Russ: Vocals/Ginger
Ian: Bass/Vocals/Production/Questionable Hygiene
Whitty: Guitars/Vocals/Eloquence 
Ross: Guitars/Children’s Clothing
Paul: Drums/Baldness

Footprints in the Custard can be found via the following:

Website: http://footprintsinthecustard.bandcamp.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Footprintsinthecustardband/

Twitter: @FitC_official 

YouTube: 

 

Kinks

About Kinks

She might as well have popped out of the womb flashing the devil horns. Her colourful musical taste is just like her hair – a classical singer with a smidge of Arabic and Scandinavian influence, and a bit of growling in between, y'know, your typical run-of-the-mill mish-mash. Mozart by day Burzum by night. A pint-sized ball of colourful fury, don't let her stature deceive you. She's a hellbeast, thirsty for metal. She’s not just sitting in England sipping on tea, but guzzling metal knowledge from every source possible. Her music degree focused on metal studies (well, the university didn't have much choice). Either way, she is a first class metal maiden. Keeping a critical eye on metal from before her days and right now, scrutinising with the electric eye - what makes the beast tick?
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