Bellow have grown, from being a more or less exotic being from the beautiful fauna in the deep forests, to an infernal rock band on its own premises in Norway’s capital Oslo. Their common blend of punk, rock and metal seems to be an efficient fusion on stage. It’s not uncommon to compare these rockers to a monster emerging from the depth of a dark and small forest pond. Even though this might sound banal, it’s not as banal as the lyrics commencing forth through the lips of singer Tom Fury. He is sometimes helped vocally by bassist Andy Amore, who steps in when Mr. Fury needs a break to catch his breath and devour alcoholic fluids.
These two lads, together with drummer Fluffy, are what remains of the original line up. Luckily, the threesome has gained two very steady guitarists, Drop-Out Molund and Ed Go-Go. Steady in the chord firing sense, mentally they all struggle. Tom Fury ended up sacrificing his gallbladder to the Gods of the netherworld. He is back, slightly lighter, but with the same goddamned annoying voice. Again, Bellow are well rooted on the dust covered plains on the planet, playing their smoking hot songs so the poles melt, crows crow, ladies dampen and the high pressures on TV enlarge. What can you do, but listen? That would be the only crime you wouldn’t regret.
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