Hellfire Sermons would appear to be the voice of those who have no muscles - the skinny, weady ones, cruely stapled into nice sweatshirts and bowlheads by their mothers, 75 per cent Lennon-bespectacled and full of impotent rage. While life's a beach for some, these are the kids who always got sand kicked in their faces.
Now they've got their chance for revenge through rock'n'roll, but luckily they've forgotten some muso essentials; namely a distortion pedal, and two of the obligatory three chords. The result is an obtuse, scratchy, and wonderfully tuneless guitar sound which minces around like the aural equivalent of Mr Bean in a brothel.
The vocals are an equally curious compelling mix of sneering scouse gob-fulls of anger and simpering la-la backing vocals, the whole thing often resembling a 'C86'-style shambling storm in a teacup. Thankfully though, grating, irritable tunes frequently crawl from the wreckage.
They have a pleasing penchant for twangy guitar solos and scowling basslines but they'll never be pissed enough to be Gallon Drunk. A skew-whiff take on an eccentric English indie guitar tradition is more their style - epitomised by the recent single, 'Covered In Love' - and they achieve the considerable feat tonight of plundering that heritage and still sounding like no-one else. Hellfire in their bellies and halos on their heads: prepare to be converted.
Johnny Cigarettes - NME - 13/3/93