When you come to think about it it’s kinda puzzling that there aren’t more weirdo/damaged/real people private press LPs hidden within the heavy metal underground. After all, it’s the disaffected teenager’s soundtrack of choice and its central tenets – loud screaming guitars, tough-guy posturing, songs about chicks and monsters and partying and rocking all night – are the things that fanboy dreams are made of. Maybe it’s got something to do with its weedy focus on technique, it’s dud notions of ‘professionalism’ (historically metal and punk never really mixed, unless you’re talking the whole Dictators/Twisted Sister axis), but there’s little in the way of outrageous visions of outside at the bottom of the heavy metal food chain. All except for this monster: White Boy And The Average Rat Band blew out of Baltimore in the 1980s and released this supremely crude private press LP that traded surly punk attitude for over-the-top heavy metal soloing and paeans to endless fuzz. The set starts off with a crude symphonic/celtic synth “Prelude” like these guys were thinking ‘Van Halen’ when it came to epic visions of teenage but it’s quickly shot to ribbons by the drum battery that announces “Neon Warriors” a classic slice of basement sleaze that crosses The Dead Boys with Redd Kross in order to get to a wild and snotty Robert Quine/John Perry-style lead guitar break that keeps coming on again and again while the pained vocals sound as if they’re being broadcast from the bottom of a KFC Party Bucket. “Sector 387” has a spoken word ‘robot’ vocal with a sci-fi theme that somehow chimes with the early MX-80 sound and – of course – vocalist/guitarist Mike Matney covers the whole thing in molten string burn while Hypnagogic keyboards further confuse the scenario. It isn’t hard to imagine Jim Ferraro sipping cold ones while hanging on the stoop and rocking this on the ghetto blaster. “Maybe I’m A Fool” has an insane fuzz sound, with fat beams of electricity supporting a tough-guy re-write of “Iron Man” while “The Prophet Song” aims for Led Zeppelin but sounds more like The Afflicted Man if they hadda dug flares and paisley more than buzz cuts and braces. There’s an acoustic interlude that could have been a mis-step if they hadn’t followed it up with “Oriental Doctors” which is basically a leer-fest of biker-style gasoline skronk up there with Sweet Kelley, Nicodemus et al… this is an amazing record, a classic underground guitar album and one that walks the plank between punk snot and metal excess with alla the aplomb of a bunch of clueless no counts who truly believed. And it’s all the more beautiful for it. I’ve said it before, but if your idea of metal has more to do with a fistful of teenage thud than a stud through your pud, then sign the fuck up. Exact repro edition: “Its been a long hard fight and one of us didn’t survive; rest easy old soldier – the fight goes on – with all sincerity, THE BAND.” Highly recommended!