The Madd is b-a-n-a-n-a-s.

The Madd is definately both wicked and massive.

The Madd is the shit.

The Madd is b-a-n-a-n-a-s.

Everything about The Madd just rubs the right way. It's rock 'n roll. It goes down like chocolate. It has an organ that makes you dance around in your living room and scare the cat. The band members are well-dressed and look thoroughly un-Dutch, in a good way. Singer Dave van Raven bluntly checked out chicks and tits during their gig and the invitation for their release party proudly boasted 'after the show: free fucks', but my mom would still welcome them as her sons-in-law because they're too charming not to.

The music is a sixties-best-of in the best way possible. It's an appropriate tribute, but manages to surpass being just that. It's fucking energetic. They totally get away with choruses like "Heyheyheyheyhey - jump now" and I love the Beatlesque vocals on Roughy The Beatles Man. Even the slight Dutch accent of the singer just adds to it instead of it being annoying. Releasing 'Ongeneeslijk Beat' ('Incurably Beat'), The Madd's first full length album, has just been another bull's eye for the Excelsior label. Go out and buy the damn thing, it's worth it.


And please don't do the "But Hera, they sound just like The Who"-thing. I know. But I don't mind. I'm incurably beat. To hear what The Madd themselves sounds like, try their show at Motel Mozaïque. Hear some more at their Myspace or Last.fm.