Two of Toxic Flyer's favorite bands on one CD of pure female fronted rock and roll action that's hotter than hell. Up first are the 440s who set the Philly scene on fire for years but are now re-winning the West with their style of fire-power rock that has the same feel as the Lunachicks, AC/DC, Texas Terri and the Stiff Ones & Motorhead. Sweet and evil rock'n'roll. Next, the Sioux City wild ones, the Chickenhawks take you on a sleazy rock and roll road trip that's hotter than pit beef on a 110% Vegas day. Fronted by the howls of Betsy Badly, who is one of the best front people out there, the band also features the hot guitar rock sleaze of Sioux City Pete who is a demon on guitar. Fans of Tex and the Horse Heads and Texas Terri will love this band as well. Two great rock & roll bands everyone should support.
—Toxic Flyer #33

HOT TO GO REVIEWS:

I loved this Philly band’s first album and I like this new one even better. It sounds more like they do live, which is to say, high-fucking-energy! And greasy as shit! Hell, greasy is an understatement, this CD contains so much petroleum product it technically qualifies as vinyl! The majority of the material is heads-down-and-in-your-face. I can spy such influences as AC/DC, Thin Lizzy, Dead Boys, Ramones and probably most prominently, Motorhead. All good sources to tap into. THe 440s also have the taste and foresight ot include an occasional sweaty blues vamp and they ain’t afraid to drop the tempo down a notch or two, which breaks things up and adds dimension just when it’s needed. Personal faves would be "Up In Smoke,” and the voluptuous “Stiletto Stomp.” They also do a wild blaze thru JJ’s “Bad Reputation,” which is over covered but this is one of the best takes ever. You can expect a thick, raunchy car wreck of guitars swimming over a dense growl of bass and drums. On the fast stuff it’ll smack you up against the wall. On the slower numbers it just pins you to the floor like a 300-lb. lover and humps the holy hell outta ya. Good sound, huh? If that ain’t rock and roll, I dunno what is. Blistering, dueling lead guitars are traded between Sparkle Plenty and Superstar Steve. Both have classic slashing, flailing styles a la sonic Smith or Mick Green. Quite wisely and mercifully, neither lead guitar ever dips down into wankery. Miss Sparkle has such a cool voice. She sings the majority of the leads and on a few of the lines I swore I could hear Cherry Vanilla. (One of the most underrated singewrs in all of punk and glam!!) The girl can growl like a big ol’ tiger cat. And she is sooo sssexy! All tattoos and fishnets. The boys arae some sharp dressed, greaser lookin’ hepcats. They look like they could just as easily rebuild your transmission as they could kick your ass. And actually they could. But trust me, they’re some of the nicest folks you could ever meet.
—Jeff Dahl, Sonic iguana #5

How the fuck can you go wrong with a female lead singer/guitarist named Sparkle Plenty? You can't. As the main tattooed banshee for The 440s, a hard-drivin', supercharged four-on-tha-floor four-piece from Philly, Ms. Plenty comes off like the lost fifth Runaway who ran off and got hitched with the first white trash rocker she saw while hitchhiking down the freeway, trying to escape Kim Fowley's grasp. On The 440s second record, Hot To Go, Sparkle and her band of merry noisemakers kick up a psychotic racket that has all the manic energy of a kid who didn't get his Lithium. Straight outta the greased-stained garage, this album is full o' sleaze, screamin' and sex, bolstered by Sparkle's high-octane guitar slinging and singing. This lady's got a raw, guttural howl that could peel paint, but actually manages to squeeze some melody outta her throat to boot. Songs like "Heart Full Of Lies," "Stiletto Stomp," and "Demolition Boy" are thundering, brain-blustering rides into good ol' fashioned blues-based, full-throttle rock n' roll. Like any roadhouse punk/rock n' roll outfit worth its salt, this firebrand band has a serious jones for old hotrods, but thankfully they don't overload this album with kitschy cartunes, like so many of their gearhead brethren. Nope, these kids stick to Chuck Berry riffs laced with alcohol and raunchy lyrics ("I got paid Saturday night / didn't go out but I still got laid"). Although there's nothing quite as smoldering as "Fuck Me With Rock And Roll" from their debut album, The 440s still rock like the devil's been loosed on their heels. Sure, they may not be reinventing the wheel, but The 440s sure know how to grab hold of the fucking thing and use it to steer their hotrod straight into the badlands of rawk n' roll. Albums like this are the reason why God gave us Les Paul guitars, Jack Daniels and the devil's music called rock.
—Jeff Watson, KNAC.com

FLAMETHROWER LOVE REVIEWS:

Man, I absolutely utterly love The 440s (especially the lsciviously luscious'n'loud lead guitarist/vocalist, Sprakle Plenty. Joan Jett ain't got nothin' on the sinfully delicious Sparkle!) Their "Hot To Go" disc is a constant maniacal mainstay in my CD changer and now I thankfully have this tough'n'nasty neck-snappin' 7" to thoroughly rough-up my eardrums. Side A snottily snarls with a rude, crude and lewd rendition of the Dead Boys' "Flamethrower Love". Woooo-weee, it's a-causin' me to spazz in a fanatical fit of full-throttle rock'n'roll ecstacy, by golly gawd damn! Side B is a devilishly delectiblelil' ditty about the sin inspiring Unholy One himself, ol' Beezlebub of Hades. "Satan's At The Spot" is as wildly primitive a song as ever was force-fucked into my ears! I'm cross-eyed, slobberin' silly and about to desperately drop to my knees. The 440s have once again robustly seduced my aural senses, and I can only hope I never fully recover.
—Roger Moser, Jr., Razorcake #5

The Dead Boys cover starts it all off, and that's pretty much a no-brainer. The 440's continue on the top notch, octane fuelled punk rock and roll on the flip. Good shit.
—Caustic Truths #78