It’s one of these dive bars, in a city like no other. The low-ceilinged basement shelters a handful of freaks who braved the winter cold. 1493 kilometers now separate HÅNDGEMENG from their hometown of Drøbak, Norway. No matter the distance, sketchy conditions and how worn out they are, they’ll play as if their lives depended on it. The entrance fee? You choose. Buy yourself a beer, buy us a beer and enjoy the hell out of yourself now.
Their rock’n’roll is drenched is sweat and they always push their life knobs to 11. To exist and feel alive. Don’t expect them to gaze at their shoes or look grim: these guys look you in the eye and give you everything they’ve got. This is rock’n’roll, and it keeps living thanks to bands like that, and promoters who believe in it and make it roar from the speakers as long as they can. We introduced you to their fierce brand of sonic debauchery in our review of their debut album, and we say it once again: this is your best antidote to the prevalent gloom. Regressive and with a zero fucks given attitude. That’s what HÅNDGEMENG is all about!
Why reinvent the wheel when you can smash it against the wall? Their heavy audacity is even on display on what must be the most WTF album artwork of 2025. With a taste for provocation and satire, these five dudes present themselves fully naked (but in corpse paint) and embracing each other. Silly funny and adorable all at once, this is both a tribute to their friendship and a reminder of the themes explored on “Satanic Panic Attack”: the fear and hysteria surrounding heavy metal in the ’80s, with its supposed subliminal messages and devil-related imagery.
And, as with any worthy heavy record, the Norwegians bring to life a nightmarish, borderline-kitsch post-apocalyptic world filled with bikers and chopper addicts, without any nuance or subtlety. We’re sailing in a metal extravaganza where the tales of these hellriders are scribbled in blood and oil.
Everything here can seem over the top, from the rollercoaster-of-death-style vocals to the sheer hard rock sing-along and occasional guitar spurts. An overdose of gimmicks that truly emphasize the album’s playful vibe: this is doom’n roll. Kvelertak could be cited as a reference, but Håndgemeng’s heavy eccentricity makes all the difference: there’s a little less punk in there, but holy hell are these guys devilish! Håndgemeng could stand for ‘bar fight’: if you’ve come here to get a good beatup, you’re in for a treat. Their riffs are merciless, sharp and biting, and groove so hard you’ll feel like dancing with the Devil itself. “The Sundrinker” will turn any pit into a battlefield and, as you get intoxicated by the crowd’s energy, you only come to your senses at the end of the song with an empty pint in hand and your sweaty shirt drenched in cheap beer.
You got it: this record is a call to over the top live performances, the kind that restores rock’s lost outrageousness and fun facet. Just imagine what would happen if you played this record backwards…
Last modified: 6 May 2025
