The Hammer Horrors Creepy Cocktail Review
The Hammer Horrors
Creepy Cocktail
Self-Released
2024
Those who know me best know I’m an unapologetic Horror fiend, though not just any old ghoul. No, my coffin is lined with velvet from the classic era of Horror cinema: Vincent Price’s wicked smirk, Hammer Horror’s blood-red fog, and those gothic masterpieces that crawled from Britain’s darkest crypts. I’ve sacrificed countless nights watching and rewatching Hammer films, and I’ve spent just as many nights prowling the net for their Blu-ray resurrections like a grave-robber with a shopping cart. So, you can imagine the shriek of unholy delight I let out when I stumbled across a band literally called The Hammer Horrors. Instantly, I knew I’d sold my soul to them, it didn’t even matter what they sounded like. The name alone had me sharpening my fangs with anticipation.
And let me tell you, they didn’t disappoint me. The Hammer Horrors are a blood-soaked cocktail of Psychobilly, Horrorpunk, and Surf straight out of the land down under. Yes, Australia, where AC/DC and Rose Tattoo reign supreme in my book. It’s not a country that often coughs up the kind of music that sinks its claws into me, but once in a while, under a blood moon, the crypt doors creak open and something unspeakably good crawls out. That’s exactly what happened here: I tripped over them like a freshly dug grave while hunting for new Psychobilly victims online, and lo and behold, here they were, fangs bared and ready to feast.
They unleashed their debut full-length album, “Creepy Cocktail,” on Halloween night in 2024, as if summoned by some diabolical ritual. Forty-four minutes of graveyard stomping, chainsaw riffs, and cobweb-draped hooks that gnaw at your brain like a horde of undead rats. And unlike so many pretenders, The Hammer Horrors don’t just sprinkle a little fake blood on their act and call it Horror, they yank you by the ankles into the crypt, bash your skull with a spade, and then wink at the camera while they do it.
The first track to slither out of the casket is “Tombstone Shuffle”, a ghastly, groovy two-step through the cemetery that proves these creeps know how to balance catchy riffs with raw graveyard valor. No muddy production, no overdone fuzz, just superb guitar work and organ stabs that sound like they were piped straight from Dracula’s tomb.
The title track, “Creepy Cocktail,” serves up male vocals that growl with menace but keep their clarity, like Sparky from Demented Are Go after gargling with a bit of formaldehyde. No need to decipher grunts from beyond the grave; here, the lyrics slice right through, making the whole thing even more fiendishly fun.
And then there’s “Hot Bitch from Hell.” (Yes, you read that right.) Featuring their female vocalist, this track thrashes with punk-fueled venom, tighter than the mummy’s bandages and twice as deadly. The riffs here sear themselves into your skull like a branding iron from the underworld.
“Friday Night Frightmares” is pure Horrorbilly candy, mid-tempo, earwormy, and impossible to shake. If you don’t find yourself chanting that chorus like a cultist under a full moon, you may already be six feet under.
For a dose of sleaze, there’s the wonderfully inappropriate “Every Dead Thing Needs a Hole.” Drenched in reverb and dripping with the blackest humor, it’s equal parts reanimated blues shuffle and graveyard joke. If you find yourself offended, you probably wandered into the wrong mausoleum.
Another personal highlight is the instrumental “Nightmare Beach,” which opens with Vincent Price himself, sampled from “Bloodbath at the House of Death”. The clip, fittingly titled “The Price of Intermission”, is a chef’s kiss to Horror nerds like me. Some might scoff and call it filler, but to me, it’s the haunted cherry on top of this “Creepy Cocktail”.
Other grave-robbing delights include “Just Buried,” “Beast,” and “Sundown in Blood Town.” Each one rips, shreds, and slithers its way into your ears with the precision of a knife-wielding maniac.
In a world overrun with Horrorpunk wannabes and Psychobilly posers, The Hammer Horrors have sewn together something genuinely monstrous. “Creepy Cocktail” isn’t just another album, it’s an unholy séance of Surf twang, Punk venom, and vintage Horror worship. If you like your music soaked in blood, tongue-in-cheek, and as campy as a midnight killer creature double-feature, then raise your goblet: this Creepy Cocktail goes down smooth… but you might not live to regret it.
Recommended for fans of Hellcat Records, Wolverine Records, Fiendforce Records, and anyone who prefers their Rot ‘N’ Roll with a stake through the heart.