Eternal Soundcheck

Hammering The Cramps - s/t LP

Wormwood Grasshopper

Words from the label:

"Hammering The Cramps were a Hobart band active between 2005 -2007, with this LP being recorded at a rehearsal in Janurary 2007. In Hobart their audience was sadly limited at the time (and still is) and it would be a shame for them to fall between the cracks, because they're one of the greatest groups to come out of this town. Their sound is loose, loud and heartfelt and has a similar character to that of Xpressway artists, Roky Erickson and Brian Eno's "Here Come The Warm Jets".  The LP jacket features the brilliant artwork of the late Phoebe." - Wormwood Grasshopper

Track listing:


1.  Grumman Hellcat

2.  Jesse's Vampires

3.  Lemmings

4.  Perfect Hair Forever

5.  Seahorse Song


1.  Sputnik Racist

2.  Smothered Wives 

3.  Under Your Stairs

4.  We All Cry In Our Sleep

5.  Wormwood

Format:  Vinyl.  12" LP.  33 RPM.  Edition of 300 copies.

Year of release:  2012

Label:  Wormwood Grasshopper (WG-002)

City / Country:  Hobart, Australia


"Totally fantastic archival unearthing documenting this pre-Drunk Elk project from Hobart, Tasmania. The sound is classic edge-of-the-world hypnotically degraded avant lurch, with the kinda grasp of extended rock tongue that defined the more damaged group sounds coming out of the Xpressway stable but with an emphatically powerful grasp of massed No Wave guitar movements and the kinda higher-mind feel for tortuously beautiful melodies of This Kind Of Punishment. But it’s the walls of endless strung-out guitars that really seal the deal with a euphoric repeating aspect that comes over like a Valkyrie Dead C or The Clean play Glenn Branca topped off with classic wasted/desperate vocals. Hard to believe they kept themselves a secret for so long but this is fantastic. Edition of 300 copies. Highly recommended!" - David Keenan, Volcanic Tongue

"A fantastic record with no band to back it up. Hammering the Cramps existed from 2005 through 2007 or thereabouts; members are now doing time in the band Drunk Elk. Perhaps this band/this album was a bit ahead of its time, as the kind of people who are now just discovering New Zealand bands will no doubt flock to this effort, whereas it was still a bit of an antiquity back when this oddly-named group was alive and kicking in Hobart, Tasmania, the kind of place that hasn’t been known to let its wayward coordinates stop great bands (Sea Scouts, The Native Cats, Paint Your Golden Face) from surfacing to the rest of the world. Point is, this one shouldn’t have slipped through the cracks, a real rager that combines the room pressure of Trapdoor Fucking Exit-era Dead C. with the sort of frenetic psychedelic heft of any great Wayne and Kate Village band (hearing Crystalized Movements in the crashing percussion, Major Stars in the overall riff-force and keyed-up delivery), and the sun-blinded free spirit that rises into the air anytime someone plays the Plagal Grind 12”. It sounds as if it could have surfaced as some ambitious Xpressway offshoot back in 1988, the presence of four guys with the third dimension flickering on and off, banging on their cages and letting tiny, powerfully-focused beams of light pierce the painted black walls and rip through to a late afternoon blue sky. That’s a feeling I rarely have about any sort of music anymore, so consider this a must-own, and check to see if you white-knuckled at any point during the raucous middle portion of this fine LP like I did." - Doug Mosurock, Still Single