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The Turbo AC's  – Kill everyone

Review

The Turbo AC's

Kill everyone

Genre
CD
Label
Concrete Jungle Records
Datum
06.07.2011
Autor
chinawild
8 /10

CD Review – The Turbo AC's – Kill everyone

Chuck your sneakers out of the closet, put on your denim jacket, turn on your MP3 player... and off we go.

Today, the new album by the New York band "The Turbo AC's" is in our ears. And after some doubts about the creation, one must honestly say that they have just about hit the right track.

"Kill everyone," the weighty title of the album, comes with both new and old attitudes. The surf influence has diminished, but the straight-ahead Rock'n'Roll has been deliberately intensified.
A little bit of Swedish style, à la "The Hives," has been added, which gives the songs a fresh touch.

The opening track "Feed You To The Sharks" comes across as somewhat synthetic, and stands in contrast to the cover, as it is spiced up by the sultry lady. Only with "Into the Vortex" does it become clear that it is indeed the Turbo AC's at work.

While the title track takes it down a notch to catch its breath, with "Forget Everything" you have the familiar, screeching A.C.'s around you, who, even in their 15th year as a band, are capable of surprising with new facets and skillful experiments.
"You're So Stupid" would certainly be such an experiment by previous standards, yet even in 2011, "Kill Everyone" still places considerable emphasis on straightforward, kick-ass tracks like "Die Tomorrow" or "Live Fast Die Slow" (the titles speak for themselves...). You can love or hate the TURBO A.C.'s, but for their loyalty and tenacity alone, they deserve a trunk full of support. All of this contributes nothing to the strengths of character of "Kill Everyone"; the album is a checklist full of ticks, a grill rack full of steaks – so that neither fans nor critics could claim that they didn't make an effort or that they failed to step out of the studio and onto the streets. Kevin Cole's strained vocals bring the drifting moments of the long player back down to reality, and that fine hint of speed psychosis – perfect for bursting speedometers, whether at the wheel or on the board.

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