Gunslingers — Manifesto Zero

The flag erected by America’s R&B garage bands of the sixties, made freakier through psychedelics by the end of the decade to become such a dominant force in shaping the punk sounds of the seventies, is still aloft and flying wildly as ever thanks to the likes of France’s Gunslingers. Their second album, Manifesto Zero, is a straight-to-tape set of ecstatic psyche punk that faithfully follows a wayward path laid down by the hardiest of hedonists before them (Texas’ Butthole Surfers and the UK’s Gaye Bykers On Acid often come to mind).

The rhythm section comprises Matthieu Canaguier on “Thunderbass” and Antoine Hadjioannou on “Prophetic drums” who also play together as Utech’s dark ‘n’ sludgy Aluk Todolo and the black metallic Diamatregon. Here they maintain an unrelenting undercurrent of swaggering attitude, solidly chugging down their special brew of sweat and leather to create a primed surface onto which band leader Gregory Raimo (or GR as he’s sometimes known) can paint his technicolour trips. GR’s alternating guitar and voice infuse the air with a burning patchouli incense, fuelled by the obligatory fuzz, wah and delay to depict ever deeper details of a deranged corner of rock’n’roll traditions.

The first track is by far the most intoxicating, casting a black magic spell on the bones of a Johnny B Goode riff – like the first drink on an empty stomach it has the advantage of surprise, significantly reducing the impact of what follows. Fortunately, at just over 30 minutes, the dose is small enough not to render the brave listener forgetful or jaded. What Manifesto Zero lacks in originality it makes up for in passion and purpose – to make people smile, to forget and to abandon themselves to the primal over the cerebral, the tribal over selfdom.