Band:	Coliseum
Album:	House With A Curse
Style:	Punk, Hardcore
Release date:	June 2010

01. Introduction
02. Blind In One Eye
03. Everything To Everyone
04. Crime And The City
05. Cloaked In Red
06. Perimeter Man
07. Skeleton Smile
08. Isela Vega
09. Lost In Groningen
10. Statuary
11. Man Was Never Meant To Fly
12. Punk / Money

So, this band Coliseum... pretty rock 'n' roll, huh?

The easy way out is to staple that good ol' all-embracing "alternative metal" tag on Coliseum's forehead and just move on with the rest of my review. But things are a tad more complicated than that. What Coliseum have going on here is a mixed bag of post-hardcore-ish punk and groove-laden blues. Make sense much? No? Thought so.

All you got to know is that Coliseum's approach is rock solid... But at the same time also decidedly muscular. And the whole thing is sprinkled over with a generous portion of stoner-like otherworldliness. Which means the atmosphere might get dense sometimes. Don't worry, this stuff is still heavy. The kick-your-teeth-in-for-no-reason kind of heavy. The kind of badass heavy that even puts the word 'badass' with its pants down. Fucking-a right, one might even say Coliseum are putting the 'raw' back in 'rawk'.

Coliseum is your no-dicking-around kind of band. The band's prime asset is their keen understanding how to combine toughness with intellect in their songs. Melodies that are deceptively straightforward yet energy-packed seem to sprout up everywhere. Tracks are catchier than the plague and foot-stompingly entertaining, but when it ends you don't remember a bit. Pretty much like a regular Friday-night-is-bar-night. Might as well glue your finger to the replay button while you're at it. A second trademark of the Coliseum sound is definitely the gravel-throated though understandable-at-all-times caveman-like vocals. The album might get a tad repetitive near the end, though consider it a pimple on an otherwise perfectly apricot-shaped manly ass.

House With A Curse is the kind of record that will give you a strong pat on the back, then grab you by the balls and twist 180 degrees, before buying you an ice-cold beer in a smoky roadside biker bar. A dangerously addictive and decent enough album.