If you didn’t Sell Your Soul the first time around The Creepshow will make you Run For Your Life.

All female-fronted psycho bands are invariably, and unfairly, compared to The Horrorpops.  Which is really curious because the ‘Pops are pretty atypical amongst psycho bands.  In fact these days they almost buck the label entirely.  So what you run into a lot are people who don’t like the ‘Pops  and consequently view womens’ presence in the scene as really more of a curiosity or gimmick,  or people who aren’t well versed in psycho but love the ‘Pops and hate all other chick-fronted psycho bands because they don’t sound enough like them.  Which is a shame because they will all miss out on acts the like of The Creepshow who would no doubt change their perceptions.

Beginning with the very ominous Outer Limits-esque warning of Sermon II you can’t help but feel kind of like you’ve been here before.  But at the first strains of the scorcher Rue Morgue Radio you are instantly and hopelessly hooked for the next twenty eight minutes.  And given the short running time they don’t give you much chance to stop and take a breath in between.

The real question on people’s minds is how Hellcat and Sarah Sin stack up against one another.  And I think Sarah more than capably fills her sister’s shoes.  For the most part the Blackwood sisters are comparable in vocal quality, each distinct in her own way.  Hellcat has a slightly smokier voice while Sarah is a bit on the poppy side.  Her vocal stylings are like sweet, sweet, sticky cotton candy.  But aside from that both incarnations of The Creepshow bear all the same hallmarks that set them apart from the pack and established Canadian psychobilly as the best in the land.

Run For Your Life is the ultimate party record.  Not to limit its range or anything.  It stands on its own.  But it’s just so much gleeful, morbid fun that its application to your next Halloween party (which is right around the corner, *hint hint*) is undeniable.

I don’t mean to insinuate that Run For Your Life is the perfect record.  But by the same token I’m hard pressed to come up with any significant complaint that wouldn’t just sound like I was reaching.  Sometimes a great record is just that and you owe it to yourself to just shut up and let it be.