There is some kind of insane charm to Mamaws Ouija Board, the latest from Ron. The band channels a drunken fury, a stumbling sort of punk rock that slurs like an uncle at Thanksgiving, although not the sort that pops off in regrettable ways. There is a primitive frenzy to their music, a primordial rage thats, at times, plodding garage rock and power-punk moaning, never taking itself too seriously. Singer Chris McDaniel has a David Yow-esque swagger to his vocal delivery, growling and finding timing at his own whimsy, both of which make for an interesting cipher you never know what comes next. The riffs are enormous and the beats are furious, a caveman-like thunder to scare the normies.