Once again, a mere band name influences ANBAD’s choice of featured artist.
And once again, this ludicrous intuition serves ANBAD well: welcome Wet Nuns, a band whose very nature makes the niggling question, “I wonder if I’ve featured these guys before?” entirely superfluous – as if a name like that would be quickly forgotten.
The one element of Wet Nun‘s persona I couldn’t grasp from their name alone was the type of music they made.
And then I listened, and slapped my forehead: of course they make trashy, gut-busting, lead-heavy grind-blue-rock. It was almost too simple.
Of the pleasing traits a band can have, the art of surprise is the most pleasant: epic blue rock is almost always a dreary, dismal affair played by serious types with too much facial hair and a mistaken belief that drinking Jack Daniels from the bottle equates to having a personality.
Wet Nuns are not these people, and, are thus a surprise: heavy, fun, gritty and slaves to the heaviest of riffs.
And so Heavens Below is all bombast and no trousers; a punch in the groin, a beery, cheery slap to the face. A grubby peach.