Guitar, bass, drums - the holy trinity of rock'n'roll. At least that's what they say. Basement Saints don't give a damn and instead of a bass player, they lug around an original Hammond organ and two Leslies.
In fact, their whole show looks like it's straight out of the wild seventies. You immediately feel like getting on a chopper without a helmet, smoking filterless cigarettes and carousing with unshaven women. The influence of 70's rock'n'roll and southern rock can neither be denied nor overlooked.
After 13 years of drunken nights, broken strings and barrels of hair conditioner, their passion for blistering riffs and pounding grooves remains undiminished. Their concerts leave you with hard nipples, a thunderous throbbing in your skull and a naked wistfulness - why you were only born so late. Tamisiech!
Translated with DeepL
