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Fungalpunk reviews Bittersweet Twisted Treats

Fungalpunk reviews Bittersweet Twisted Treats

From Fungalpunk.

The knicker draw of riotous rhythm is opened once again and I am forced to sniff around and see what untold pleasures I can textually cum across. I rifle around and find that the said container of all acoustic knick-knacks was first open in 2008 whereupon these Spanish thrusters set about filling a few orifices with their own brand of throb. Based in Brighton and with some good contacts the band have a few dedicated followers and knock out something more than the expected sleaze the name suggests (although I may just trickle down that route with the review – oops pardon). So here we go, 9 titivators to uncover, plunge!

The first pair of acoustic panties to be held aloft are emblazoned with the name ‘Hold On’ – ooh sounds promising. The initial impression is of a sturdy feminine driven construct with ribbed gussets of bassism providing the most important aspect as regards support. Stickwork is brisk, guitar scuttling and the overall appearance is without frills and instead built to fuck rather than fuck about. The intimation is of a quickie and that is what we get with verbals kept strong and necessary girlie in parts. The odd squeal shows relish, the humping impetus is effective and a midway shuffle of the ass to create a deeper resonance assists the end sensation. Nice start with a good close-up and personal eye to eye defiance. A shuffle about and lo and behold a brace of vibrating duo balls are examined further. ‘Big Mouth’ and ‘Give Us A Reason’ are scrutinised and each vibromatic pulse considered. The former track is of a loose tongued twat (which could be sexually pleasing but in this instance is nothing of the sort) who can’t keep a secret. The billow and bite has a gusto and the vibes are attracting with a consistent flow of the inner juices created. Cuntrified (deliberate miss of the ‘o’ to keep the theme), hip-swaggering and deeply rattling – ooh me orifice. The latter number quakes with greater nervous inducing necessity and really shakes up the internal erogenous zone. The electric shimmering sends an electrified tongue deep inside the listener and there merry devilment is concocted. You will do well not to twitch to this pepped up piece and the six and four string weapons that provide the main zest of the song only add to the thrill. Don’t underestimate those tympanic titbits though – the whole masturbation of melody needs these incessant tickles of the skin.

All a tingle I delve deeper with hungered digits. The ‘Plastic Fantastic’ that is gripped is phallic and full of promise. ‘Play Loud’ is etched down the sides and that may be a signal to groan with pleasure, indulge with leisure – who am I to sway such an innocent passer by? Penetration is had, the buzz is heavy, the whole lead up to the climax routine and perhaps less titivating than other thrills but the rattle of the inner implement gets the job done and the end vibromatic experience ain’t too bad. Ooh another pair of sonic panties – this time neatly embroidered with the suggestive message of ‘Easy Come, Easy Go’ – wow – talk about throwing it about. My pecker is up now and after the previous track I am making sure I get a good snifter here. The aromatic flavours are consistent with the last song and in truth I am getting nothing extra in the dingle dangle department of discordance. The back rattle is as you were, the fast wire whipping also without variety, the gobbage still sucking out the appreciation with usual hunger. Again the experience is fast, slightly rough (don’t ya just like it that way) and will not take ‘no’ for an answer and is in keeping with the rest of this tucked away collection. I shan’t complain but there is room for something crotchless, something peephole, something more lubed.

‘Burn Today’ repeatedly slaps the face with a wake up desire before trundling along the juddering lines of noise and just about keeping on track. The band seem to be racing to an unseen climax and the sonic steam train known as Her Royal Highness Clitty Clitty Chuff Chuff is stoked, well driven and giving off much pollutant smoke – cough, splutter no tutter! What happened there then. ‘Angel Or Devil’ is a sexual shriveller that is just too much of the same for me and is one of those that if presented earlier in the CD would sound a whole lot more convincing. It has the bands idiosyncrasies and shuffling attacks as well as the same irresistible tempo but just lacks that final magnetism…or does it? Repeat, shuffle, mental scuffle…reconsider…nah I be wrong – this is equal to any track so far but is just forced to sit in the wrong chosen chair.

A bra and two cups of noise to ponder. ‘Rats In A Cage’ rattles with vicious intent, is once more built of rib rattling rhythm and straight ahead focus. Words and a statement of the song title come and go, the inner spice and spite combine to add an edge although this song has the unenviable task of preceding the best of the lot and so is soon forgotten. ‘Twisted And Sick’ is mid-tempo, has more feeling to the gob work, eases along into a delightfully basic chorus that gently undulates with emotive encouragement and artistic accuracy. The bass heightens the tactile presence of the song and the general liquidity makes this step forth and out compete all of its near relatives. A fine closure. One bra – one titty, ditty small, the other a whopper with a nipple of noise like a discus – thanks for the mammory!

So in summing up I am going have to be honest and say I am please yet a little frustrated. The band have much to adore here with the final masterpiece showcasing why, in the main, I am still on edge. It is blatantly obvious this lot have more to offer and until they do I think I can reserve full judgement. I like this neat package and the overall essence but…oh but they could have done so much more. Again I find myself squeezing hard (in all vulgar and sonic areas) and if they produce the goods then all and sundry will be more than happy. Watch this sonic space.