<< Back To Press Hot Press : Live Review : The Underground : Dublin, March 1991 When I saw the Whipping Boy for the first time in 'The New Inn', a glorious revelation and now two sightings later I know them to be the best young Dublin band to emerge in the recent past. Yes, another one - believe, believe you sceptical bastards. I don't really know if I can say this without coming across as a bit of a muso, which isn't, take my word the intention at all, but the Whipping Boy are 'Sonic Youth's' guitars played the 'Spaceman 3' way. That's fine, that's really cool. An almost frightening swell of guitar, bass and drums and a voice that sounds as if it belongs to somebody very probably deranged. I'm a bit low on song titles, none are introduced but they all crawl inside your head, plant bombs there, then scarper, leaving you bruised and dazed, a danger both to yourself and others, a babbling emotional wreck. The Whipping Boy will never, ever, ever get on 'Top of the Pops'. They're noisy, dangerous, decadent, horrible and loud. Overpowering, overwhelming, yes disgusting in a beautiful sort of way. The Whipping Boy are going to die roaring, a gift from God, a gift from God. Michael O'Hara