If Roadkill were to suddenly go 'Extinct', this would be one hell of a record to go out on.

The eighties, respectfully, gave us a lot of things, including Iron Maiden, Metallica, Mötley Crüe and of course NWOBHM, Thrash and Glam Rock, arguably the holy trinity of eighties Metal, in which everything else that reared its head in that musical minefield stemmed from. Tasmanian Hard Rockers Roadkill, if you're unfamiliar with them, are the unabashed, unmistakable and the undiscovered lovechild of Accept and the Crüe – balls-to-the-wall Heavy Metal with a sex, drugs and Rock and Roll attitude to boot.

Strolling attentively like a tank onto the battlefield, opener 'Ready For War' is a riffs-at-the-ready cannonball explosion into the world of Roadkill on their third studio effort 'Extinct'. Whilst the old-school Udo Dirkschenider meets Vince Neil croon catches on throughout the album, its early attempts at hitting the high hooks of the opening crescendo send warning signs as quickly as a wasp stings.

Admittedly, it is as simple as a-b-c and 1-2-3 to write off these Tasmanian natives as nothing but a quintet-sized love letter to the best bits of eighties Rock radio, however, given the chance, Roadkill's cliché Metal for dummies is as addictive as the cocaine the heavyweights they're aping were taking in their heydays.

Whilst 'What The Hell' and 'Hellbound' sound like straight rips from early eighties-era Accept, Roadkill take their sonic capabilities into unknown territories, twisting their progressive distorting riffs through cross-fading channels, challenging your listening experience at every moment, daring you to discover its secrets. 'Killing Yourself To Live' takes this fully on board, opening in the middle of the battle between the guitar and the drum, the left channel sliding riff after riff after riff into your ears whilst the right channel pounds you over and over and over with a drumming pattern created for one reason, and one reason only, to get you head-banging and that it does.

Roadkill are, quite honestly, underdogs. Tasmanian Metal truly is a cliché and is a laughable term, and yet the result of years of hard work – and possibly hard drugs – highlights the importance of the power of Metal spreading to countries far and wide. Even with lyrics as cringe-worthy as "thunder and lightning is so much frightening", you can't help but find yourself toe-tapping, head-banging and singing along in unison. If Roadkill were to suddenly go 'Extinct', this would be one hell of a record to go out on.

Jack Press