Royal Trux didn’t arrive to please anyone, least of all the music industry. When Jennifer Herrema and Neil Hagerty started making music together in the late ’80s, they weren’t concerned with anything so straightforward as a ‘hit record’. They were tapping into something far wilder, the seamy underbelly of rock that most bands wouldn’t dare approach. Over nine albums, they scraped together a sound that was as abrasive as it was groundbreaking, blending the edges of blues, punk, noise, and surreal experimentation. Their music was like the smoking wreckage of Rock’s Hall of Fame after a bomb blast – full of shattered influences and half-respected inspirations like Captain Beefheart, Muddy Waters and the chaotic pulse of New York’s no-wave scene.
For Royal Trux, every album was a kind of strange, shifting landscape. Twin Infinitives was an acid-soaked opus of fractured rhythms and off-kilter melodies, while Thank You saw them dip into sludgy, riff-heavy rock, throwing conventions to the wind without a care. Each record offered a different slice of their twisted world, with Herrema’s smoky, snarling vocals and Hagerty’s guitar lines as unstable as a Uranium cocktail. They were cult figures for those drawn to rock’s darker corners, but their music was as polarising as it was captivating. We hate to say it but you either got Royal Trux, or you didn’t.
Now, with Fire Records releasing newly remastered versions of Hand of Glory and Untitled, listeners are invited back into this world of brittle noise and jagged beauty. These reissues resurrect two distinct phases in the band’s career—each an account of their unfiltered, chaotic rock artistry.
Hand of Glory: A Fevered Collage of Sound and Story
Originally recorded between 1985 and 1989 and later released in 2002, Hand of Glory is less an album and more an auditory fever dream. Imagine stepping into a lost corner of rock’s past, where Burroughs’ cut-up writing technique meets the lo-fi screech of a Velvet Underground bootleg, and you’re somewhere close. This reissue brings Hand of Glory back in its purest form, with all the distortion, feedback, and sonic decay left gloriously intact.
Side one’s ‘Domo Des Burros’ and ‘Two Sticks’ create a sprawling 19-minute exploration of fractured riffs and vocal fragments, layered in a way that feels like a Jackson Pollock brought to life. It’s as if Royal Trux gathered every sound they could find, mangled it together, and let it play out as one continuous, rambling onslaught. The result is an unsettling, magnetic chaos that never fully resolves—every time you think you get where it’s going, it pulls you in another direction. Royal Trux don’t play by any rules; and so it feels so alive, restless, defiant.
The second side, ‘The Boxing Story,’ is a sly wink to William Burroughs, embracing his fragmented style with an eerie flamboyance. It’s a loose narrative, slipping in and out of coherence, with guitars and vocals looping in splintered arcs, transmuting like a dislodged memory. The whole thing feels like it’s dissolving before you as you listen, an intentionally abstract morass of sounds that challenges you to stay engaged. Remastered for this reissue, Hand of Glory comes alive with new clarity—every ragged edge and offbeat echo sharper than ever.
Untitled: Rock’s Dark and Gritty Soul, Unleashed
Where Hand of Glory was a plunge into the discordant goo of their warped minds, Untitled, released in 1992, strips things back to something closer to rock’s essence—but of course, Royal Trux don’t do straightforward. This album emerged after Twin Infinitives, shedding some of the manic energy of that record while capturing a raw, lo-fi aesthetic that feels like it’s on the edge of collapse. The remastering here amplifies that tension, letting you hear every twisted note and breathy mumble in detail.
‘Junkie Nurse’ stands out as one of Royal Trux’s grittiest, most haunting tracks. Hagerty’s voice drags and slurs, ghoulish and defiant, as he delivers lyrics about addiction with visceral honesty. It’s rock in its basest form – unsentimental and powerful, evoking the kind of darkness that clings to the fringes of dive bars and empty streets.
“Junkie Nurse’ isn’t just about addiction; it’s about the twisted hope that even the most broken people can somehow mend others, even when they’re falling apart themselves.” Jennifer Herrema.
Each track on Untitled feels like a small act of rebellion, a resistance to the polished, commercial sound that dominated the early ’90s. There’s a looseness here that feels liberating, as if Herrema and Hagerty were creating something in a space free from any constraint or expectation. Hagerty’s guitar grinds and growls, circling Herrema’s vocals like a shadow that refuses to let go, tethered by an unbreakable bond. It’s the sound of two musicians who live inside their music, forging something deeply personal and almost dangerous. With this reissue, Untitled is restored in all its gritty, defiant glory, inviting listeners to experience it with fresh ears and, perhaps, a stronger stomach.
The Legacy of Royal Trux: Fearless and Unforgiving
Royal Trux’s influence lingers today like vapour, unseen and hardly acknowledged. While they may not have reached the same commercial heights as The White Stripes, The Flaming Lips or Nirvana, their impact on underground music and lo-fi rock is undeniable. Their willingness to create without compromise has made them icons for a certain kind of listener—those who value authenticity over accessibility, those who are drawn to music that challenges rather than churns over tired old ground.
With Hand of Glory and Untitled, Fire Records has given us a chance to revisit, and perhaps re-evaluate, what made Royal Trux so unforgettable. These albums aren’t easy listening – they’re wonderfully difficult. Their music wasn’t made to be loved at first listen. It was made to pull you by the collar into the murk, to kick you around a little, and show you a side of rock that refuses to be sanitised.
So, if you’re ready, dive back into Hand of Glory and Untitled. These reissues bring Royal Trux’s dark vision into sharper focus, restoring their place as pioneers who turned rock on its head and didn’t care if anyone was there to catch it.
‘Untitled’ and ‘Hand of Glory’ (Remastered) are out now on Fire Records
