BUZZ CULT - The New Album by DIRTY CHEETAH - Out now
It wasn’t meant to be a concept album. At the writing stage, there was no grand plan—just a raw collection of songs written over the last four years. Even in the studio, it was just about nailing the song live off the floor. But something clicked during mixing, when samples from Very Nice, Very Nice (Arthur Lipsett, 1961, NFB) were added. Suddenly, the tracks fell into place. A theme emerged: Buzz Cult.
After almost 3 years of being locked down, warmth and brightness was returning in renewal of
hopes for mankind. But it didn’t take long to realize: even if you quit nicotine, cut back the booze, laid off the psychotropics—your hourly dopamine hit just shifted somewhere else. Welcome to the Buzz Cult, where rage-bait is king. Trapped by algorithms, addicted to the next grotesque headline, possessed by your own demons. You want to escape the grind. But guilt haunts you—your carbon footprint, your privilege, your silence. You turn on the screen for comfort, only to be sucked into true crime nightmares that are too close to home. You're left feeling lost. Alone. You need to be waking up from this nightmare. But flashbacks from the first years of the decade
keep coming back.
Midlife crisis hits you. It’s an ambush. One minute you’re coasting, the next your values crumble and the life you thought was solid turns to sand. Uber-everything promised freedom—delivered burnout. Maybe we’re all just cheering for our own obsolescence. Maybe the only way out is together, against the tide of authoritarianism. But when unity feels like a fantasy, nostalgia creeps in. You find yourself tempted— revisiting the toxic masculinity that once felt like stability. A false refuge. But it’s also where the rage lives. And when there’s nothing left, the rage is all you’ve got. Can you turn it in the right direction? Because if you feel well, whatever is gonna happen, you feel well anyway.
That’s the heart of this album. Dark, sarcastic, It rages with the volume up and tongue firmly in cheek.
Demon Possesed kicks off like a derailed Detroit proto-punk train—think MC5 with a bad hangover.
Vacation Action brings the spirit of Gluecifer’s no-nonsense action rock.
True Crime is just a Grand Gignol attempt to punk meets Rock n’roll.
Lost swings to the pop-punk side with big hooks and open wounds.
Wake Me Up! channels early ‘90s grunge, when women finally weren’t just objects in rock anymore.
3 Ramones-core bangers, a wild trilingual version of the same track. Because punk should always be a little ridiculous.
I’m the Product throws a curveball: sloppy bass loops, sleazy blues guitar, and a WTF energy you didn’t expect from Dirty Cheetah.
Fuck Fascism is straight-up street punk fury. No metaphors, no compromise.
Those Days brings melody back with Screeching Weasel-style inspired guitars and bittersweet energy.
Ass, Grass or Gas. Here’s a dumb rock song about biker clichés, screamed like Lemmy, explained to a six-year-old. Why not?
Nothing Left ends in a Turbonegro-style finale: chaotic, flamboyant, and full throttle.
