Promising both Bubonic plague and unspecified toxicity, Hot’s debut is hardly shy of stating and restating its intentions.
Jick Magger, Stingo Rar, Kéké Ring and Koi Rean are clearly frequent visitors to the same bordello as Eugene Hütz, their over excited howl of “animalistic rock & roll” a ska-punk trope that will, no doubt, find many fans in the depths of Berlin’s current permafrost.
The 14 minute, Play puppet master rocket starts to end, stretches the laws of thermodynamics past their breaking point, neglecting the fact that three minutes is plenty long enough to boil an egg (and leaving the saucepan in a sorry state). Other offerings are similarly over or under-cooked suggesting that Rich Russian Grrrls are best kept away from the stove, unless you like to dine on burnt bombast.
In fairness all this relentlessly shouty, brass bound rawk wrapped in cheap synths and ugly guitars probably sounds great live but a preliminary toxicological report on this disc indicates the effects of carelessly reheated currywurst, mildly unpleasant but unlikely to result in mass fatalities.