Imagine your mum and dad's living room invaded by a gaggle of pale, basin-faced youths clutching guitars and you'll have some idea of the room upstairs at the King and Queen. The chandelier vibrates with every minor chord, warm beer gets spilt on the best carpet and the bands play in the corner where the television should be.
Liverpool's Hellfire Sermons fortunately promise an antidote of sorts with a cornershop jangle once peddled so effectively by the adolescent Hurrah! The guitars double as chin rests as "Quicksand" slips and slides, while "Penny-Pinching Cathy" steals the bassline to "Funeral Pyre" when nobody's looking. Yet there is none of the brimstone of, say, former Esurient labelmates The Claim.
This is proved when the white-haired publican appears from nowhere, cuts the power after four songs and inexplicably halts proceedings at half past ten. Irate landlord in the area! But instead of launching him headlong from an upstairs window in a sacrifice to the God of Pop, the band acquiesce and lay down their guitars grudgingly amid plentiful pleas for the quality of Mersey. All to no avail.
Paul Moody - Sounds - 4/8/90