Review: Motorpsychos


First off, the 1965 Russ Meyer film was called “Motorpsycho” not “Motorpsychos.”  I’m sure the band knows that, but almost everybody else who’s written about this Pittsburgher rock quartet apparently does not.  The band plays loud rock and roll infused with metal and punk on fuzzed out guitars.  The bass player takes cues from both Lemmy Kilmeister of Motorhead (note the one to one motor connection in the band names) and former Metallica bassist Cliff Burton.  The vocalist has the power of Joan Jett behind her vocals combined with a gruffer ‘Babes in Toyland’ snarl and a sweet melodic side to boot.  I suppose it should be noted that the band is all female, save the drummer.

It’s always interesting to me how the presence of women in rock bands is cause for special attention and note.  It is, of course, because they’re women in rock, which is still not all that common.  Sure it’s not as rare as finding lefse or deep fried cheese Curds in San Diego (and believe me, if I did I’d be writing about it in ecstasy), but it still prompts rock journalists to mention the fact right off the bat.  But the presence of women sometimes condemns a band into the “chick rock” category, and can limit serious attention from jack-asses who will off-handedly remark that they don’t like “chick bands” or worse yet denounce them as only being popular because they have a nice pair whether anyone in the band has a nice pair or not.

Typically, a fat sweaty guy in the audience has the best rack and bonus – he’s taking it off!  With all that out of the way the band has the sleazy cool appeal of a Russ Meyer movie (well, duh).  They wear leather; they wear spikes; they rule the night!