"A fantastic record with no band to back it up. Hammering the Cramps existed from 2005 through 2007 or thereabouts; members are now doing time in the band Drunk Elk. Perhaps this band/this album was a bit ahead of its time, as the kind of people who are now just discovering New Zealand bands will no doubt flock to this effort, whereas it was still a bit of an antiquity back when this oddly-named group was alive and kicking in Hobart, Tasmania, the kind of place that hasn’t been known to let its wayward coordinates stop great bands (Sea Scouts, The Native Cats, Paint Your Golden Face) from surfacing to the rest of the world. Point is, this one shouldn’t have slipped through the cracks, a real rager that combines the room pressure of Trapdoor Fucking Exit-era Dead C. with the sort of frenetic psychedelic heft of any great Wayne and Kate Village band (hearing Crystalized Movements in the crashing percussion, Major Stars in the overall riff-force and keyed-up delivery), and the sun-blinded free spirit that rises into the air anytime someone plays the Plagal Grind 12”. It sounds as if it could have surfaced as some ambitious Xpressway offshoot back in 1988, the presence of four guys with the third dimension flickering on and off, banging on their cages and letting tiny, powerfully-focused beams of light pierce the painted black walls and rip through to a late afternoon blue sky. That’s a feeling I rarely have about any sort of music anymore, so consider this a must-own, and check to see if you white-knuckled at any point during the raucous middle portion of this fine LP like I did. “Seahorse Song” – good god! 300 copies." (Doug Mosurock/Still Single)"

Wormwood Grasshopper, 2011