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(in chronological order (new to old) based on when i found them.)

"Try and work this one out. A duo who tell - screech, actually - of bloodlusting bullfighters, errant greengrocers, private detectives, drunks, vengeful gods and Bullseye to the accompaniment of grinding guitar, thumping drum machine and the odd cornet. It's actually far better than even that sounds. Compared from everyone from Whitehouse to Suicide to the Fall to Big Black, DC Gates and Graf's black hearted not to mention black humoured screes and uber-jaundiced take on the character study have earned them a sizeable local cult following, but really a unique outfit such as this demand the wider audience to sit up and listen, maybe just before cowering. And if nothing else, let's put it this way: Future Of The Left and Los Campesinos! love them, The Automatic hate them. Which side are you on?" - This Ain't No Picnic 2008 programme

" ... electro-duo GinDrinker from Cardiff and their freeform white-noise rant with added cornet twiddles - catchy!" - Andy O'Hare, bbc.co.uk/herefordandworcester

"With my word count still ripe I guess Gindrinker are a fitting way to begin. A two-man machine of an act in the foolhardy mould of Sutcliffe Jugend and, fittingly, one such band that best glorifies this cunning mentality. You may have already heard faint murmurs: a feature here, an article there. Supporting Times New Viking a few months back in London, hell, you may have been fortunate enough to catch a rare glimpse of them outside their natural habitat. But not until now have they sat so rightfully emboldened on the pages of this fine-feted magazine. In fact, never has a band made me so journalnihilistic as to pawn my words to cheap catch lines such as "Greatest Band In The Universe" and "2008's Best Kept Secret". Horrid, cliched platitudes that I only say begrudgingly because they are ultimately true and therefore conveniently apt. Having caught them at Cardiff's Buffalo Bar, two grown men riffing art-metallic over sampled parcel tape tears was enough to turn even the most hardened cynic devout with feelings of sycophantism. Performing songs about Jim Bowen whilst blowing trumpets at guitars, ranting anti-everything rants, knocking heads. you could almost see the naive few in the crowd clinging desperately to a reality they had previously believed to be a weekly succession of evictions, daily shopping tasks, etc, as front man Grandmaster Gareth (sic.) screamed them one step closer to oblivion and an afterlife of right royal pitch forking. In fact, I'm going to amend those platitudes now and alter an adage simultaneously, since I may not know art but I know that Gindrinker quake unshakably like a man-made fault line. Which I like." - Richard S Jones, Artrocker

"Huw Stephens was out to support local Cardiff boys Gindrinker up first. I get a real nostalgia kick out of their shows as they remind me of evey band I saw in wales from 84-86. Peel would have adored them probably sums it up but the two men and a drum machine are like some unholy alliance between Datblygu and Big Black. Sadly they didn’t play my favourite the one about Bullseye which has a chanted chorus of “Hail Bowen!!!”. A classic." - Mark Bowen, Witchita Blog 2.0

"Cardiff based Gindrinker already provide a hint via their name of how (un)organised their blinding, scuzzed rock and roll is. It’s pretty basic stuff with the repeated dirty guitar loops and dustbin quality drums; it risks coming across as an amateur version of The Birthday Party covering Fall tracks. Which in general isn’t actually too bad a thing at all. It does grate after a while though and track two is equally odd and abrasive. The ideas are amazing but often seem under utilised, although the rhetoric is extremely entertaining; especially where sheer effort splendidly transcends any actual skill. MMM" - Simon Brown manchestermusic.co.uk

"... no doubt Gindrinker's ranting will provide a witty if completely unhinged and deeply troubling accompaniment to the evening (Repeat after me: someone up there doesn't like you, and that someone is me!)." - joy. collective

"As much as I love the fall, there’s something a bit strange about seeing someone who looks like your uncle throwing a fit on stage, and probably bottling the female keyboardist, so thank god for Gindrinker, the obvious heirs to Mark E Smith’s twisted world, and we’d all be better for it-great stuff" - subba-cultcha.com

"This is ample proof of why, no matter how rough and lascivious your grinding guitar backing track is, you can't sound like you're in a Tarantino movie doing spoken lyrics in a British accent. It sounds naff. As an aside, you probably shouldn't supply your promo CDs scratched, either." - Tom Mendelsohn, new-noise.net

"Gindrinker release their debut single, Work It Out, on 26th May. The Cardiff duo are going to cause a lot of fuss to those that do get to hear their release, is it music or is it a piece of cult music masterpiece. The jury is still out here, one moment you are believed that it is a wonderful piece with the lyrics, which are only ever spoke, make you laugh and cry. Then the next moment you are left wondering what is going on. The words from Mr DC Gates are very impressive and even if there are no cornets on the main song, there are plenty on the B Side Ayn Rand Says. Mr G McGraf provides the rocking guitars and drum machine. Gindrinker are clearly a band that are not going to do what the manual says for making records and will do what ever they feel like and I am interested to see if their future releases carry on flying that flag and continue to be different, for this record just about edges on being a cult masterpiece. Rated 10/13" - Neil Richardson, roomthirteeen.com

"Gindrinker’s contribution to this night of maleness is their usual great blast of astringent tales about wretches and men found dead in pubs. They’re a weirdly Cardiff institution now, like the gargoyles on the castle wall." - joy. collective

"Cardiff duo cast a withering eye upon modern Britain, and score that sourness with a mess of drum machine, guitar-screech and murky horn, a bitter symphony that’s most satisfying." - Plan B listings

"You'll probably already know Gindrinker, the Cardiff-based duo for whom there’s always room. ... Deformed skeleton guitar, black lung cornet, irregular heartbeat drum machine, St Vitus’ Dance stage movements, fevered delusion vocals. Yeeeah." - lesson no. 1

"Gindrinker are the stain on your trousers, the fire in your nursery, the turd in your coffee cup. Formed in Cardiff in 2004, named in homage to Sleep's marijuana doom epic Dopesmoker - and, of course, the retired colonel's liquor of choice - they play jaundiced, bleakly comical state-of-the-nation addresses built from the thudding drum machine, scrapes of guitar, and wilting Cosey-like cornet. Their grotesquely enjoyable single 'Work It Out' is about waking up one morning to discover God hates you: "Children throw stones, dogs bark, ripped trousers ... buses flahs past, no-one in them - why don't you work it out, thicko?"." - Louis Pattison, Plan B

"A visceral, sometimes incoherent assault on the senses, this is northern caustic wit delivering bitter streams of consciousness to the sound of sad trumpets, a drum machine clicking out of time and the brutal boilersuited guitars of the Dead Kennedys. There are frightening riddles trapped in lyrics about empty end of the pier bingo halls frequented by your Nan, the implosion of self induced by a night out drinking limitless pints of bitter. Depending on how much of their set you can handle, these are some of the experiences you will have witnessing the brilliantly barking art punk of Cardiff's Gindrinker. Lead vocalist D. C. Gates is somewhat of a local legend in these parts. You will see him behind bars, behind microphones, compeering at local night spots and screeching on stage. They first came to my attention with "Greengrocer" their Twisted compilation track in 2006, the sound of a insane man who sounds a bit like Mark E Smith (The Fall) kicking off at his local market due to the paucity of marrows on offer, while Captain Beefheart guitars screech out over tannoys. Dirty guitars pervade the menacing whosefuckingvoiceisthatinmyhead paranoia of their new single "Work It Out," out now on businessman records, it’s useless to resist." - Bill Cummings, God Is In The TV online fanzine

"In these days of The Metros getting a record deal, we need bands like Gindrinker as a British music equilibrium balance. Gindrinker are Graf on guitar like Steve Albini dragged through the national forest backwards and DC Gates on ripping both the art of character study and the art of singing to shreds. Plus, a drum machine. That they are still only Cardiff's best kept cult secret - they're supporting the Fall tonight, which is surely the least they could do - and not heroes of the nation is unfortunate, but give it time, letter from God to man Work It Out (b/w Ayn Rand Sez) is only their first single, on Spencer McGarry's label Businessman Records." - sweepingthenation.blogpsot.com

"Gindrinker, too, have a jaundiced take on Brown's Britain ... these tales are inflated, hilariously monstrous, like Big Black's 'Kerosene' reinvented Punch And Judy-style on the end of Blackpool pier. A drum machine harrumphs and hisses. A man in a boiler suit done up to his face plays guitar, stretchy like elastic and raw as a skinned knee. And vocalist DC Gates - a cherub fallen from grace, landed in a council skip of fag ash and pork scratchings - bends and stretches like a park drunk attempting Tai Chi. "God of Darts" is a tribute to Jim Bowen ("The speedboat's going nowhere!"), while other songs home in on sad deperados and their antisocial schemes. "There's three things I really love in life: ice cream, beer and driving ," begins one protagonist. He might, you suspect, also quite like Gindrinker." - Louis Pattison, Plan B

"Even a quick glance at Gindrinker’s MySpace influences is enough to make a grown man weep – Suicide (uh-huh), Throbbing Gristle (oof), fecking Whitehouse (eesh, that’s going to hurt...) – and sure enough, the faint of eardrum should probably turn away now. Marrying Sabbath-esque riffs with lurching post-punk and a sense of humour you’d politely describe as ‘savage’, the Cardiff-based outfit sound like the ill-tempered sibling of recent DiScover act One More Grain, ripping the value system from your frightened maw and then leaving it to die in the dirt like the dog it really is. Enchanté." - Alex Denney, DiScover, drownedinsound.com

"Gindrinker are cult; thrashing guitar, drum machine on heavy reverb and DC Gates screaming into a microphone about everything from fruit to Jim Bowen. The Mark E. Smith comparisons don't really need to be stated, this isn't so much Rip it up and Start Again as it is rip it up, ram it down your throat, spit it out... and then do something completely different ... Gindrinker are like nothing you've seen before." - Jen Long, xfmsouthwales.co.uk

"Welsh (sic.) art-rock grumps" - timeout london