Read some of Chris Auman’s Assorted Music Reviews in no particular order (certainly not alphabetically.). These reviews were originally published under the various pseudonyms of Joey Germ, Joey Germs, Joey T. Germ, Jubson Jones, Warren Jeffs, P.C. Jones, Muggsy McMurphy, Sammy Clemmons, J.S. Bach, Manfred Lightbulbhead, Trapper John, D.D.S., Stan Fogelberg, Jayne O. Wayne, Jayne Wayne, Otis E. Lee, Shroudy O’Turin, and Paw Paw Pete, Bow Diddley, Irresistbile Frank, Jimminy Van Tuffet, Pig Patterson, Sneaky Petes.
Brat Curse – s/t
This self-titled LP features 11 catchy tunes, most of which come in at under the three minute mark. The band proves they can drive fast but also switch lanes with relative ease and merge their pop tendencies with punk and indie rock. They are not unlike their Ohio precursors Gaunt in this respect and they reveal a love of 90s underground and alternative groups like Superchunk and Pixies.
The album kicks off with “Sweat Pants Lawyer,” a fast tempo raver that displays that aforementioned raw 90s punk sound and pop sensibility (I would totally hire a sweatpants lawyer, by the way). “It’s On Until it’s Not)” taps into the Weezer vein of big, loud, hooky guitars. “Psycho in the Furnace,” has a nice bit of Pixie’s swing to it. The instrumental “Spring Break Reagan” is a high-powered affair arriving on the heels of “Sobriety Butcher”—a brief interlude which sounds like a folk tune under the influence of the Flaming Lips. “Who Do You Call? brings an angular math rock sound to class and then the punk pop of “Acid Capsule Tina,” the album’s longest track at three minutes and 25 seconds makes it an epic jam by comparison.
The band’s half decade of existence hasn’t seen a terribly high recorded output which is understandable given the number of other bands its individual members are engaged in, which are all probably simultaneously side projects of each other. The byproduct is a solid guitar album with no filler, as it leans heavily on 90s underground rock. The Burse no doubt put on a great live show which you can catch later in the year in a venue near you when the album is released on August 2. The vinyl version will be limited to 200 pressings so don’t whiff on that. [Anyway Records]
CAVE — Threace
Let’s just call Threace what it is. It’s Jazz Fusion. That tag may have bad connotations in some people’s little minds and maybe it leaves a nasty taste in your mouth, but this is the heavy kind of funk and jazz meld that you used to hear drifting out of that dorm room at the end of hall (all mixed in with pot smoke filtered through a rolled up towel which smelled like bong water anyway.)
Like I said, CAVE joins, or fuses, elements of rock, jazz and funk to create the five songs on this album. Now that we’re all past that, let me tell you that I am no spelunker, but my past experience tells me that this is a much tighter and focused record for CAVE. They seem to have drifted further away from the drone and the psychedelic aspects of their earlier output. Maybe that has to do with the departure of their keyboard player and the addition of a second guitarist, or maybe it has to do with natural progression, or maybe both.
“Sweaty Fingers” is an extended opening exercise that kicks up and breaks down and kicks off again. “Arrow’s Myth” is a bitch’s brew of that funky stuff I was just talking about back a minute ago. “Shikaakwa” is just a bad-ass track with hypno-tizmic flute and funky repetition. “Silver Headband,” is CAVE doing the kind of music that earned them all the CAN and Krautrock nods scant weeks and months ago. It has the drone, the unrelenting rhythm and the crunch of distorted guitars that break things up when things need to get heavy in the middle. Listen to this just a little too loud.
That’s it. Review over. Thanks. [Drag City]
Ty Segall — Twins
Ty Segall puts out lots of records and plays in bunches of bands in the garage rock vein. He is the Garage Rock King. The fact that Segall creates records in such great abundance and makes it look relatively easy is to be admired. Prolificacy is a double edged sword though, and while Twins has some great moments it’s mostly underwhelming. The opening track, “Thank God for the Sinners” is certainly a garage rock classic and a fitting way to kick off any album. “You’re the Doctor” follows suit as a full-on rocker and “The Hill” is another great moment with a dang near gospel choir backing Ty up as he aspires to outdo The Who in bombast. Not every track is a killer, however, although it’s not quite filler. Segall can be forgiven for that. He’s a busy dude, playing, recording and touring and he does deliver exciting moments. There’s falsetto vocals and reverb soaked guitar solos aplenty, but sometimes two chords and a tatch or two of reverb doesn’t always a great song make. “Ghost” is an epic at 4:14 but it just trudges along. “They Told Me Too” is a so-so grunge tune and I’d take “Love Buzz” over “Love Fuzz” if I had my druthers (which I do). [Drag City]
Iceage — You’re Nothing
Iceage is not from the U.S. or even the U.K., although they sound at times like Wired crossed with Hüsker Dü or the band Ian Curtis and company would have formed after seeing Black Flag instead of the Sex Pistols. They are, depending on your preferred tag, a Danish “post-hardcore”, “post-emo” or “post-punk” band. No “post” modifier is really required, however.
Everything is “post” these days and Iceage travels on trails blazed decades before. The band’s use of right-wing imagery and themes is certainly nothing new and hardly gained much traction as far as controversies go. The fact that a Danish post-everything band such as this can land on Matador only makes sense in 2013.
In 2003, Iceage would likely not have risen above the underground VFW Hall, Book Your Own Fucking Life scene in this country. That’s not to say they don’t deserve to be on a higher profile label like Matador. They do, much the same as countless bands before them deserved, but never achieved that status.
The other, allegedly noteworthy, thing about Iceage is their relatively young age. They were teenagers when they started the group. Teenagers playing punk rock? Pretty radical. No, they were and still are exactly the age you’d expect of a band that attacks its music with violent, world-ending urgency. [Matador]
The Mapes/World War IX — Split 7”
Does the carpet match the Mapes? That’s a question that doesn’t get answered on these three short blasts of punk rock from Las Vegas, Nevada’s Mapes. Snotty and fun with a theme song (“Journey to the Center of the Mapes”) is how these gamblers roll. “Rocket in My Pocket” may reference the penis, but The Mapes are not afraid to let their sentimental side show on the heartfelt track, “Tits.” Flippin’ the split reveals two punk rock tunes from New York City’s WWIX. “Empty V” deals with the vacuous wasteland of the formerly music video playing channel, MTV. (I thought Jello Biafra demanded that MTV leave the airwaves back in ’85… they must not have been listening). For their second track, WWIX could not resist a song about their favorite past-time which is the consumption of drugs and alcohol. Can a real “Intervention” be far behind? Let’s hope not. [Red Black & Blue]
World War IX — Brown Baggin It 7″ EP
Skipping several wars ahead, this old school punk rock band from Brooklyn (yeah that’s right, Real World Brooklyn!) gives us a future blast from the past. If I must reference a punk band from back in the dizzily day that I would compare WWIX to (and I must), I would have to say Circle Jerks. The singer reminds me of Keith Morris and that dude’s snarly, gnarly pissed off punk rock rage– sans the SoCal accent of course. The packaging for this seven inch record is highly conceptual being as it is, a brown paper bag, much like you would pack an egg salad sandwich in for lunch, or a forty of malt liquor for dinner.
World War IX revels in fast, straight forward punk rock with songs about drinking, (“Portrait of Sobriety”), drugging (“Treasure Hunt,”), religious freaking (“Jesus Freaks”) and employees of the months (“Employee of the Month”) which incidentally, was also the title of a fascinating film which combined the comic genius of Dane Cook with the sultry intensity of Jessica Simpson (their on-screen chemistry is explosive!) Any m*therf*cking way, World War IX will make you forget such things exist in our world and shift your attention back to the drink, drugs and freaks which are much easier to take. [Red Black & Blue Records]
Bachelorette — s/t
Annabel Alpers is Bachelorette and as such she creates spacy, dreamy soundscapes that seem to transcend her earthly bindings. Alpers, who is from Auckland, New Zealand (down under and over), wrote and recorded the music for this record while on tour across several continents. Whatever geographic location gave inception to the songs, they seem to float untethered to any natural or imaginary borders. Alpers fuses together organic and electronic elements to create her music, which might technically be called techno or synth pop, but the strongest instrument is her own hypnotic voice. Overall, it is a completely digable album that cleverly sneaks into the brain where it hides and lies dormant until the most unsuspecting moments. [Drag City]
Bad Cop — I Can’t Slow Down Digital EP
Bad Cop are some young dudes from Nashville who do a pretty dang good bang-up job of playing garage rock. They seem to pay as much attention to the fuzz as to the hook and the chorus and the song as a whole—not always the case in the genre. This 3 song, 2 video EP is not just adrenaline pumping (there’s certainly that), but it’s got substance too. Lead off track “Animal” exemplifies that previous point, reminding one of Screaming Trees, who also paid homage with tips of the hat. “Maniac” is in the middle and a smidge more manic. “Gloom Bank,” is gloomy, sure, but still suitable for buggin’ out. Videos for “Gloom Bank” and “Maniac” comprise the difference. They’re low budget, low brow and bloody, just how you like ’em. And it’s free to download, so download it. [Jeffrey Drag]
Read an interview with Bad Cop.
Birds and Arrows — We’re Gonna Run
Birds & Arrows are a husband and wife (Andrea & Pete Connolly) duo that’s recently expanded into a trio with the addition of cellist, Josh Starmer. B&A play a whimsical brand of folk music which includes, but is not limited to ballads of love and songs of yearning. Based out of Chapel Hill, NC, the group has been gaining press nods recently and with good reason. They create catchy tunes with sweet vocal harmonies that pontificate on universal themes and feelings that are sure to strike a chord in hopeless romantics everywhere. I know it makes me want to get married… again. [Knox]
Read an interview with Birds & Arrows.
Blasted Diplomats — s/t
There’s something instantly familiar about the Blasted Diplomats, which makes sense—all four members are long-time record store employees. Osmosis alone would mean these guys have absorbed thousands of hours of rock music and peeped plenty of album art. So at their heart, the Blast Mats are a product of that music overload. What comes through most evidently on this self-titled debut cassette is their affinity for the indie guitar rock of the early to mid 1990s and bands like Grifters, Archers of Loaf and Gaunt. The tape is comprised of ten songs—a mix of tracks recorded both live and in the studio. The studio tracks are pretty raw and stripped down while the live tracks show the Blast Mats working their boozy charm on a party crowd thus reinforcing the unpretentious attitude of the studio songs. Given its look to the previous decade for inspiration it’s only fitting then that a cassette is the chosen format for this release. Fine by me, time to get blasted. [Plus Tapes]
Read an interview with Blasted Diplomats
The Cynics — Spinning Wheel Motel
Were I more fluent in the language and history of garage rock, I would spout off a litany of ancient band names and sacred recordings from which the Cynics undoubtedly draw inspiration. However, I’m not, so I won’t. What I can say is that the Cynics have been playing Nuggets-inspired garage rock psychedelia for so long, you can hardly call it revivalism. At this point, it’s beyond retro. The result has been a half dozen albums and a whole mess of singles over three decades–it’s no wonder then that The Cynics are so good at this stuff. From the jangly rockin’ opener of “I Need More” to slower, more reflective tunes like “Bells and Trains” and the title track “Spinning Wheel Motel,” The Cynics seemed to have cracked the code for making classic-sounding records no matter what decade they find themselves in. [Get Hip]
The Eternals — Approaching the Energy Field
I’ve always imagined The Eternals to be a bit of a spiritual incarnation of the Clash—like they started with side seven of Sandinista and just kept going from there. They are definitely adept at genre blending, experimenting with effects, pushing the boundaries and sometimes they feel like funkin’ it up. They’re also not necessarily as concerned with pleasing the public as they are with charting their own course.
Unlike the Clash, yet very like Wayne and Damon’s previous band Trenchmouth, The Eternals may be one of the most underrated and overlooked bands putting out records today (and yes this is a real vinyl record). Kinda hard to figure. Their blend of hip hop, dub and rock produces beats that, while might not play well in the clubs, I would think would have appealed to the hip hop kids, especially those more politically attuned and left of center.
Approaching the Energy Field is an album in the true sense and it needs to be listened to as such. There’s a continuity to it, it’s sequenced to flow and, as far as I can tell, there’s some narrative continuity to it lyrically as well. It’s a friggin’ good record by a band that just keeps getting better because they never stop trying to be better. The Etenals may not be well known in Chicago or even the States, but Brazillians of people appreciate them in South America at least. [Addenda]
Followed by Static — Bacon Bear
Austin, Texas band, Followed by Static, play a brand a lo-fi guitar rock that contains more than a hint of psychedelicness. The four songs on the Bacon Bear EP harkens my brain back to an earlier time of Oklahoma and the young, dosed Flaming Lips circa Here it Is. But the sound actually goes back farther than that. There’s a 60s garage rock influence evident on “Bacon Bear” and “Cop Gloves,” which also benefit from a bouncy countrified beat. “Trash” jumps a decade forward sounding like a 70s slow churning rock monster and the eerie “Hey Skeleton,” like Austin itself, just gets weird. [Fuzz Pop]
The Girls — Remote View b/w Lord Auch 7″
“Remote View” opens with a nasty, descending guitar chord progression before blasting into chunks of alienating scuzzed out punk. I like chunks of that shit in my punk rock. “Lord Auch” delivers more of all that but also features a killer chorus in it’s rabid attack. It’s paranoid, it’s skitzoid, it’s Seattleoid. [HoZac]
Heidecker and Wood — Starting from Nowhere
Let’s get this out of the way first: Tim Heidecker is the co-creator of Adult Swim’s Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job! and Davin Wood is a composer on that show as well. If you’re familiar with the Awesome Show then it’s really hard to listen to record as a serious musical effort.
Watching the Awesome Show is like watching someone get punked over and over again and that someone is you. So, how do you take a song like “Cross Country Skiing” seriously given the background of these guys? It ain’t easy. It’s hard to find that thin line if you’re looking for it. For example, “Weatherman” was a song that started out as a composition for the show, but was expanded upon by the duo and here it is on this LP.
Keeping the satiric and ironic nature of the two separate in your brain proves difficult and maybe even pointless, especially considering songs like “The Grandest Canyon,” “Wedding Song,” and “Cross Country Skiing”. Just where is that thin line between irony and sincerity? Remember after 9/11 when they told us this single tragic event would be the end of irony as we knew it (and action movies, and really tall buildings, etc.)? Well, Heidecker and Wood may truly single that end. Maybe the jokes on me. Maybe there is no joke. In fact, there probably isn’t.
This may simply be the duo’s chance to unleash their 70s AM radio influences on a built-in audience. The end result is eleven songs and one bonus track of breezy yacht rock. Fleetwood Mac, Steely Dan, even Elvis Costello get thrown into the slow-jam stew, but I can’t help feeling like I just got punked when I listen to this record. You can come out now, Kutcher! [Little Record Company]
The High Llamas — Talahomi Way
It’s interesting that we should receive this album the same week as Heidecker & Wood’s Starting from Nowhere. They’re very similar in their approach to pop music. The High Llamas have been at it for a lot longer of course and it’s hard to determine exactly where Heidecker & Wood are coming from. The Llamas, led by founder Sean O’Hagan, have been at it since 1992 releasing nine records in that near twenty year span. I have not heard any of the band’s preceding eight efforts, nor am I familiar with O’Hagan’s previous bands Fatima Mansions or Microdisney. I can only assume that he, like many artists with any sort of career longevity, started at one point and arrived at another.
Beach Boy comparisons have been a theme throughout the Llama’s career and O’Hagan has professed a love of Burt Bacharach, so the lush and orchestrated music on Talahomi Way is no surprise. And is that a harp I hear? Probably. I can picture this record playing softly at a Yonkers as people shop for shoes. That’s not to say that it’s cheesy or the work of hacks. Quite contrary, it’s very well crafted. Every note seems to have been meticulously plotted and every arrangement painstakingly planned. Lead off track “Berry Adams” is the standout tune for me, although “To the Abbey” is its rival with a catchy, breezy hook.
If there’s one single thing that The Llamas do especially well is create music that has a timeless quality to it, yet stills seems very specific to a certain time. [Drag City]
The Mediums — Shiny Void Blues
Chicago garage psych masters, The Mediums, come heavy with the blues-based freakouts. Seems like the Mediums have moved on from the straight-up 60s garage rock sound and into a more blues-based concept. Easily recognizable riffs pop up only to veer left or right at the last minute. Side two is when the sonic fury really comes to bear with frenzied guitar riffage breaking out hither and yon and then back hither. [E.V.P./I.T.C]
Read an interview with The Mediums.
Michael Yonkers with The Blind Shake — Period
Michael Yonkers is the kind of musical figure that music geeks really like to geek out over (no offense to geeks): he’s obscure, he’s got an unfortunate back story, he suffers from an unfortunate back injury and he’s got a back catalog that stretches back over five decades.
Yonker’s tale of failure in the mainstream music industry was the shelving of his Microminiature Love record by Sire in the late 60s. Now considered a psychedelic masterpiece by more than a few aficionados of the genre, it has since been released by both De Stilj Records and Sub Pop.
Yonkers wrote a series of bleak folk albums after Microminiature Love which have also seen re-release on various small labels, but his work with Blind Shake is his return to form in terms of heavy, challenging pysch rock. Which brings us to their latest collaboration, Period. This eleven song album of heavy, metallic blues and crushing noise guitar is a terminal punctuation point with Yonker’s deadpan vocal delivery cutting through the chaos to make us feel just a little more alienated. Not that we need any help driving in that direction. Hopefully, this period doesn’t mark the end of Yonker’s output but refers rather to a particular section of time. Or maybe I’m just reading too much into that title. Probably. [SS Records]
Mike Mountain — Hiding in the Rock
Mike Mountain (Mike Mtn. for short) is a four-piece rock band from New Bedford, MA. They play your basic blues-based rock music. Nothing new there. However, what makes this band unique from say, any number of bands jamming and drinking in garages, basements and practice spaces all across the universe right now (and there are millions) is the bizarre quality of the lyrics. Let me give you a taste from the lead-off track “Acid at the Funeral”: Cut my feet on glass/Eighth-grade mustache The natives in my head/have a banquet and some cash
These are either cut & paste, stream of conscious or both. The record continues in this thematic lyrical vein with “Las Vegas Waltz” which sounds like it’s about Lyme disease but isn’t, nor is it a waltz; “Freebird 33-1/3 ” does not sound like Skynyrd on vinyl played at long-player speed; “Two Little Bossmen” is demented Dylan and “Put ‘Em on Ice” name checks Slick Rick, of all people. So, if you’re getting the impression that Mike Mountain is a little off, then I’ve done my job. [no label]
Pterodactyl — Spills Out
Pterodactyl take the falsetto vocals of early Who, Beatles and Beach Boys, bring it to a boil in Brooklyn, then bake it in the studio for days on end before serving it to an unsuspecting public. The result is a delicious blend of shimmering pop tunes with plenty of hooks and almost more sounds than a soft squishy brain can absorb in one sitting. That’s understandable, the record is layered with vocals and guitar tracks, organs, megaphones and toy keyboards which has the tendency to send songs into the realm of otherworldliness—they seem to want to scatter and veer off into every different direction at once. Surprisingly, however, they are secured by some sort of invisible fence that keeps it all together… might be the rhythm section doing that anchoring but it’s tough to tell. It’s something that I’d rather appreciate without thinking too much about. [Brah/Jagjaguwar]
The Sentinels — Music of the Pleistocene
I prefer the music of the Holocene Epoch myself, but I guess they were really just building on what was already going on in the Pleistocene Epoch, creatively speaking. At any rate, Music of the Pleistocene is a strong debut from the Chicago four piece, The Sentinels. The instrumental core of the band is comprised of a few local rock veterans you may remember as being The Tuffets a few years back. The Sentinels sound nothing like that proto metalling trio. No, this band comes at you from a straight rock angle, employing the requisite riffs and rhythms to allow vocalist Liz Elle to work it out on the mic. Which she does by trafficking in such human emotions as love, loss and lusting after girls (you read that right). The record sounds great, the songs are well-thought out, the choruses are as catchy as they should be, which leads me to the conclusion that The Sentinels are, in fact, Guardians of Rock. [Imperius Rex]
Tortured Tongues — “Let Me Down” b/w “Feed the Flys” + “To Death”
If it were possible for Tortured Tongues to reach a level where they cared less about what anybody thought of their music, then I’m sure they would try to get there in a hurry. I’m showing my age here (eighty-five next week) but The Tongues remind me of the ultimate bad time band, Flipper and their brand of bummer rock. There’s a similar unsettling effect with whatever is going on here. You’ve got to turn up the Loud and turn up the Angry if you’re going to listen this record, and really bad ditchweed would only enhance the experience.
Gentleman Jesse and His Men — “You’ve Got the Wrong Man” b/w “Stuborn Ghost”
Georgian and Organ Donor (and Gentleman) Jesse Smith digs poppy, jangly 60s pop music. I know this because of the two songs on this record. The one hundred and fifty-five pound, six foot one, Gentle J. and the additional en rock and roll out two tuneful nuggets here that you can surely get the hand-clap machine going on if you got an inkling that way. Be sure to wish Jesse a happy birthday on May 17th. I believe he’ll be thirty-one this year. [HoZac]
Heavy Times — “No Plans” b/w “Ice Age”
“No Plans” is a bouncy little number with a sixties pop guitar lick. “Ice Age” is similarily so and it flies by much quicker than you would expect an Ice Age to. This record is so lo-fi, it sounds like it was recorded in a parking lot in Paw Paw, Michigan. As it turns out, however, it was recorded in a parking lot in Ypsilanti. [HoZac]
Tom Comerford — Archive + Spiral
Tom Comerford, he of the long-running Chicago outfit, Kaspar Hauser, has brought forth a solo record unto the world. Using a different cast of musician friends and peers, Tom and Company recorded the eight songs of Archive + Spiral at a place called the Glamour Hole. Despite that studio’s name, the resulting record is more ragged glory than razzle-dazzle.
While the record sounds undoubtedly like a Kaspar Hauser album, with its well-worn Americana sound and Tom’s distinctive vocal delivery, Archive + Spiral might just be a little more laid back and a touch more melancholy.
The songs themselves sound more subdued than his previous work. There certainly seems to be a wider variety of instrumentation: mandolin, 12-string and baritone guitars, piano, organ, even handclaps fill out the arrangements.
Traces of Tom’s long-time influences: early REM and the Velvet Underground become evident at a listen, (there’s even a countrified version of “Sunday Morning)” and the song “Dear Stephen Hauser” sounds like an American version of an 80s Robyn Hitchcock song. Archive + Spiral fits nicely into the Comerford/Kaspar Hauser canon of releases that sound both old and new, familiar yet unique. [Spacesuit Records]
Read an interview with Tom Comerford.
Vernon Selavy — Apple Seeds 7”
Vernon Sélavy is Vincenzo Marando (Movie Star Junkies) and Roberto Grosso Sategna (Ten Dogs) from San Salvario in Turin, Italy. Yes Italy, but listening to this record, you wouldn’t necessarily know that these guys didn’t live down the street from the Black Lips or The Black Keys. They don’t just sing in English, they play in American. This seven-inch features three tunes saturated in the sound of the American South: gospel, rhythm and blues, maybe a hint of soul and a touch of folk. These musical influences are still as sacred today as they ever were and apparently that’s not a sentiment limited to these shores. Limited edition of 300 copies. Features a pretty cool two-color woodcut print by artist and fellow musician, Mojomatt Bordin. [Shit Music for Shit People]
Wooden Shjips — Remixes 12″
Fans of the San Fran band, Wooden Shjips, as well as fans of vinyl and 12” remixes, will be happy with this new Thrill Jockey release—as will fans of stuff that’s limited edition, as well as fans of droning, spacey stoner music. The Remixes EP features three songs utilizing the mixing and production talents of Andrew Weatherall, Sonic Boom (Pete Kember of Spacemen 3) and Kandodo (aka Simon Price of The Heads). In Weatherall’s hands, the first track “Crossing” (from last year’s West LP) slows down the pace of the original, strips out the guitar, ups the bass and adds some synth to the mix, thus creating a more electronic edge than previously present.
Pete Kember, who helped master the West album, took it upon his ownself to cook up “Wiking Stew (aka Red Krayola-ing)” as a mashup of tunes from that record. For “Ursus Maritimus (Last Bear’s Lament)” The Shjip’s Ripley Johnson laid down the main structure for Kandodo, who added various instrumentation to create a droning, twelve minute collage that is haunting in its stark chain-gang clang—like breaking rocks, not in the hot sun, but under a black moon. You feel me? [Thrill Jockey]
Wooden Shjips — West
Wooden Shjips (pronounced Shjips) are not afraid to sail out into a stoner rock squall. Aye, these four shjipmates are likely to throw up a jib and stretch out leeward or aft for the better part of ten minutes if they get a taste for it. Not in a jam band sorta way, mind you, but with more of a trance-like, hypnotic repetition that harkens back across time and the ocean to Brit band Loop or maybe even Monster Magnet circa Tab…25 back east stateside.
“Black Smoke Rise” kicks off this seven song set with fuzzed out guitar, followed by reverb-soaked keys and vocals. That’s the Shjip’s template for the most part; those elements winding and wafting their way through a hazy tour of intermittent guitar solos, guitar washes and assorted studio effects. There are some slight zigs and the occasional zag of departure: “Lazy Bones” ironically enough, steps up the tempo; “Home” flirts coyly with a classic rock riff; “Looking Out” is downright bouncy like a midnight carnival on psychedelics (or quality REM sleep) and “Rising” just flips the script by being all backwards. When taken together, it all combines to make West the perfect destination for when you want to go somewhere but just don’t feel like getting out your chair. [Thrill Jockey]
Aqua Nebula Oscillator — “Om Na Mio” b/w “Freak Out” 7”
Underground French psych band, Aqua Nebula Oscillator, are certainly capable of delivering a super sonic freakout. That’s pretty clear with the two archival recordings featured on this limited edition seven inch from the German label, Who Can You Trust? Records. “Om Na Mio” (recorded in 2004) is an edgy, six minute and one second psychic poke at the inner eye. I don’t know what this mantra is supposed to mean but sweetness and light it ain’t. “Freak Out” is pretty much that, but not in a good-vibe, trippy-dippy-hippie kinda of way. More like a “don’t eat the brown acid” kinda vibe. [Who Can You Trust?]
The Band in Heaven — Sleazy Dreams EP 7”
If this is indeed the band in heaven, they’re missing Jimi Hendrix on guitar, John Entwhistle on bass, Ray Charles on piano and Rick Allen’s left arm on drums. (That was fucked up, I apologize).
This band, Band in Heaven, is a Florida duo who create what some pundits are calling “nightmare pop.” That tag is apt, although nightmare is a bit harsh—more like rolling dream music for a wired, but tired, washed-out brain that is susceptible to soaking up the distortion and fuzz of the subconscious.
The Band in Heaven’s four song Hozac seven inch gallops off into the dreamscape with the driving, noisy “Sleazy Dreams”. “If You Only Knew” continues the hypnotic barrage and “Summer Bummer” would make a bummer of any summer. The EP’s closer, “Sludgy Dreams,” takes “Sleazy Dreams” and sludges down the tempo considerably. Like another link in The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Band in Heaven keep it simple, distorted and loud. [HoZac]
Black Moth Super Rainbow — Cobra Juicy
Black Moth Super Rainbow have a history, it’s just that I didn’t know it. So I got my backstory like every other dude on the block: I looked ’em up on the Internet and found out things about them: geography and history and discography and their noms de guerre (if I can get French on you for a second). Now I don’t know a whole lot more than I did before and who cares anyway, right?
I know this Cobra Juicy record is BMSR’s fifth LP and that they’ve had some line-up mixing ups. I also learned that, while I typically shy away from electronic pop, I don’t know what I was smoking, or wasn’t smoking, drinking or licking because this snake is juicy—Cobra Juicy! BMSR make mellow (although sometimes with an underlying sense of menace), gratuitously groovy music with breathy vocals featuring mostly electronically created sounds but also real guitars and other instruments. Possibly. “Windshield Smasher” gives me all that I want, subliminally in my sleep, although I’m not sure why I just said that. “Hairspray Heart” also comes with a promise of hypnotization and had me pantomiming a chicken driving a car. “Like a Sundae” is lovely and swirly and melty and the lush pop of “Psychic Love Damage” transports me back to a time and place, but I can’t figure out what time and what place and while I was happy to go back and visit I’m also glad that I don’t live there anymore. If any of this makes sense to you, get help (and get Cobra Juicy). [Rad Cult]
Cafeteria Dance Fever — Danceology
It’s the end of third period, kids, so it’s time to bolt to the lunch room, grab a molded plastic tray, dab on a big old dollop of powdered mashed potatoes and a scoop of jello (with bits of canned cherries and pineapple in it), and get down with Cafeteria Dance Fever! These punchy Portland punks keep it snotty and out of tune, and like a good schoolyard flu it’s catchy. They can rip through dang near 25 songs in two sips from a milk carton. This retrospective danceology titled Danceology has so many nonstop hits (“School Sucks,” “I Got Rabbies,” “Bile,” and “Pig Sty”) it would even make The Woodrows jealous. Ain’t nuthin’ gonna bring this fever down. [Hovercraft]
Dark, Dark, Dark — Who Needs Who?
It’s dark, dark, dark. Sure, sure, sure, but not dark like evil. More dark like really bummed out. Nona Marie Invie writes lyrics from a deep dark place in her tortured soul. She’s got a battered psyche which probably has a little something to do with her breakup with band co-founder Marshall LaCount in 2011. After a band time-out, the group subsequently repaired and repatched and moved on. As Fleetwood Mac can attest, this can pay creative dividends and Dark, Dark, Dark produces some well-crafted melancholy pop songs. While sunshine and rainbows do not abound, the jaunty horns and piano of the title track provide a bit of relief from the gloom early on. It’s short-lived. “Patsy Cline” and “Last Time I Saw Joe” and the bulk of the album are achy breaky, break-up ballads that most of us can commiserate with, but for me only in small doses. [Supply and Demand Music]
Dinero — Sheep
What would you get if you took a half pound of Meat Puppets and a cup of ZZ Top, mixed it together in a stainless steel bowl, threw in a dash of the politics of Boon and Watt, wring into it the blue collar of CCR and add a pinch of lightnin’ quick, finger pickin’ blues? Well, you’d have made yourself a big ol’ batch of delicious Dinero. This Colorado trio’s head honcho, Mike Wing, has an ax to grind, fortunately for us that ax is stringed. “Concealed Weapons and Open Containers,” “The Coyote Song,” and “Some People Push Back” tap into a lot of the anger that exists in this country regardless of whether your state is red or blue. It’s not just the Tea Party who’s angry, some of the beer and whisky drinkers are pretty pissed too.—PC Jones
Read an interview with Mike Wing of Dinero.
Flesh Panthers — Quick and Dirty
Flesh Panthers play fast and loose with sobriety and good taste, which is to say, they have little of either. They are also not much concerned with production values as they have none, unless you consider no production a value. That aside, Quick and Dirty, their ten song cassette on Cold Slice, is a piece of pretty blistering punk rock that’s not only over the top but over before you have time to learn the names of the songs. Sounding at times like an amped up King Buzzo fronting the Germs, the Panthers always sound a little dangerous. It’s like when that staggering schizo passes you on the street and for that second or two when you’re just inches apart, you’re really not sure what he’s gonna do or how you’ll react, that’s the vibe the Panthers seem to aspire to and obtain. [Cold Slice Cassettes]
Forest Fools — Daydreamer
These guys may be fools for wooded areas (copses, thickets, groves, pine barrens, etc,) but they are also quite foolish for lo-fi indie rock. Slow-paced, guitar-based songs with vocals that hang back and pontificate on the situation, that’s the Fools stock in trade—I think they call it shoe-gazing music. Daydreamer features four tracks of slow jams and sadness. I think the songs may be a little under served by the quality of the recording, a flaw that is unfortunately compounded in the days of earbuds and shitty computer speakers (like mine!), but it’s a promising start and it’s good to know that the indie rock is alive and well in Philly. It was, after all, Benjamin Franklin who invented the genre with the creation of the glass armonica in 1761.
Fussbudgets — Hogwash!
Fussbudgets were a late 80s San Francisco band that released low profile, hard-to-find, yet critically acclaimed cassettes—at least in the underground music scene of the time. Influenced by classic pop bands like Big Star and the Go-Betweens, Fussbudgets wrote songs that were surely right at home left of the dial. Hogwash! was the band’s first full-length and features twelve tracks equally split betwixt Larry O. Dean and Chris Lehmann who trade off singer/songwriter duties every other song. Very democratic. While this re-release (recorded in 1988-89) isn’t all college radio gold, Dean’s for “For Crying Out Loud” and “Enjoy Your Attic” matches Lehmann’s, “Something That We Heard on the Radio” and the dig on Talking Heads fans “Jacqui Digs the Heads”. Having two solid songwriters go toe-to-toe aided by the driving rhythms of bassist, Ned Doherty, is gonna pay dividends even if you have to wait 25 or so years to hear it. [Zenith Beast]
Hot Lunch — s/t
Hot Lunch sound at times like an upside down cross between 60s acid rock and 70s heavy metal with short bursts of what I can only describe as something that might have shown up on an SST record in the 1980s. They stick to the hard rock genre for sure, but they cover a lot of the subgenres within (and by subgenres I just mean other hard rock bands—yes, Black Sabbath and Motorhead are subgenres unto themselves. Are too). And who doesn’t appreciate a good hot lunch anyway? (The brown baggers, that’s who.)
But anyway… what was I sayin’? Oh yeah, lot’s of different influences goin’ on with The Lunch. They’re not afraid to go after a little bit of fantasy metal with “Lady in the Lake.” “Handy Denny” get’s all Rob Tyner and MC5 on your ass. “Killer Smile” (released earlier as a 7″ inch single on WCYT Records) gives me a Budgie vibe (and maybe a wedgie as well). “Ripped at the Seam” goes for a Sabbath riff but faster, and “She Wants More” channels Lemmy’s “gimme-some-throat-nodes” approach to vocal delivery. The whole record is heavy from beginning to middle to end. It’s just fuzzy, loud, blown out rock and roll with nasty vocals and equally nasty subject matter. Just like Mom used to make! [Who Can You Trust?]
Hot Lunch — “Killer Smile” b/w “You’re Alright” 7”
Keeping with the cafeteria theme here, Hot Lunch serve up some pretty fierce rock and roll on this piping hot 7″. The a-side features the thriller, “Killer Smile” with a heavy acid rock riff and some high octane energy. The b-side is a cover song from the Hal Jepson 1980 skater film Skateboard Madness. The actual name of the song and its original performers and writer(s) seem to be lost to history, or at least it’s lost to my feeble internet search. It’s what you could call a love song from a surfer dude who doesn’t express his feeling all that well except to say, you’re my baby and we’ll leave it at that. Cassettes and more coming from Hot Lunch. Your lunch ticket is about to get stamped! [Who Can You Trust? Records]
John Cale — Shifty Adventures in Nookie Wood
John Cale has made over 30 albums, has collaborated with a whole pile of notable bands and musicians from La Monte Young to Squeeze and was the co-founder of, arguably, the most influential band in rock history. I say arguably but only a douche would argue that VU wasn’t, ’cause it was. And dude’s like seventy and still making some pretty ambitious music. Shifty Adventures in Nookiewood showcases a dozen Cale compositions exploring pop rock music and using the more modern tools at his disposal. Cale can’t resist the use of autotuner on “Mothra” and “I Wanna Talk 2 U” uses a fairly modern spelling style on the title. But I jest. The Welshman is capable of creating moving moments using various styles and maintaining a sense of humor. Who wouldn’t want to have an adventure in Nookie Wood? Hell, I’d settle for Wookie Wood. [Double Six]
Landmarks — Public House digital 7”
If I am to believe what I read, the Landmarks band is a part of a larger collective known as Public House Sound Recordings which was formed by recording engineer, Dave Vettraino. This digital seven inch, while not measured in inches, covers a lot of musical space starting with the arcing jam of “Overflow”. At its best the song aspires to the near perfection of Deerhunter’s “Nothing Ever Happened.” At its worst it’s just a damn fine tune with a driving bass line, Rhodes piano and swirling and clashing guitar lines seasoned lightly with minimal vocals. “Cuscutta” is slower and trancier with meandering vocals, another steady bass line and hints of xylophone and a not so subtle guitar with effects pedals at play. Represent.
Larry O. Dean — Throw the Lions to the Christians
Chicago via San Francisco via Michigan poet/writer/musician Larry O’Dean has many accomplishments under his belt. He’s an award-winning poet, he’s a Poet-in-Residence for Chicago Public Schools, he’s worked with fellow Flintian filmmaker Michael Moore, he’s had his work translated into bunches of different languages and such—but enough of that press release stuff.
Throw the Lions to the Christians is a re-release of Dean’s 1997 album. Dean writes straight-forward pop tunes that rock in the right places. His songs hearken back to the great singer-songwriter days of the 70s, and I’m not talking about your Fogelbergs and your Chapins or even your Lightfoots, but rather I refer to your Lowes and your Costellos. A little less angry than those fellows perhaps, but just as earnest. In fact, Larry sounds at times like Daniel Johnson in his more excitable moments. And there’s always something to be happy about. Dean pens paeans to good days (“Well-Ordered Day”), humorous jibes at plastic surgery (“Nose Job”) and everyday topics that need a new look and a light-hearted spin without being too saccharine. [Zenith Beast]
Mermaid Bones — The End of Days
Fall 1989, the first time I saw guitarist Dave Gill: One night a groovy, now defunct, Hyde Park coffee house found room on the schedule for all the usual suspects. The rumor going around being, some radical noise guitarist is killing it, duo style, with an effects cat. Their operating moniker: !Glrnaap. So I glugged a slug from the jug, took a few tokes and made my way to the Fullerton el stop. When I got to the performance I wasn’t late, but the show had already started. Some academic music school characters were considering how it would look on paper. Gill proceeded to set up his flea market light show, plug in a 25-watt practice amp, and level the room. The last audible remark I heard was a reference to frog sterilization. A few years later I would hear Gill perform more times than I can remember with the wildly popular and critically acclaimed Hog Lady.
And now this! The End of Days is an absolute masterpiece. Track 4 “December” is worth the price of admission alone. When the vocals kick in the result is nothing less than chilling. After a pause, the hook and riff will leave the most consummate of professional musician blushing with jealousy. Lead vocalist Sophia Anita possesses a huge voice. I don’t know if the limited vocal range she tends to hover in is really that limited, or she just prefers to maintain the power there. This is definitely not daddy’s little girl cooing lullabies. In any event, her ears produce juicy, hard-to-forget melodic lines. Track 2 is a whopper, clocking in at 20 minutes of brutal prog. Even after multiple listening, I’m still caught, not catching the razor sharp changes. The excellent minimal bass playing, Chase Carter, locks in and propels formidable drummer Brian Davy. This rhythm section provides an exquisite platform for Gill to launch into his signature extraterrestrial solos.
Word on the street is The End of Days marks the end of Mermaid Bones. I don’t know what could possibly compel this band of once-in-a-lifetime collaborators to proclaim such a thing. What could possibly prevent them from performing from time to time, at least locally in their West Coast Bay Area region, I don’t know… Whatever it is, I hope these kids can find a way to continue to make music of this caliber. Anyone with the slightest affinity for rock music deserves to give this a listen. —Dr. Heironeous B. Naughty (has brain will travel)
Lecherous Gaze — Bagagazo
Don’t know what a ‘bagagazo’ is but Lecherous Gaze is demanding that everybody do one. Maybe it’s a dance. I hope it’s not some sort of illegal drug or some sort of firework. At any rate, Lecherous Gaze makes such demands on the listener in the form of old school, hard rockin’ punk and metal music (just like grandpa and grandma used to play—seriously, rock is really old now). It’s dirty, loud, obnoxious and is no doubt delivered with lecherous gazes being cast about in every direction. If you like fast riffs and furious guitar solos, then by all means, do the friggin’ Bagagazo already! [Who Can You Trust?]
Nathan Xander — s/t
Nathan Xander is a singer/songwriter from New York (by way of Chicago via Union City, PA). He writes songs that have their elements of country, indie and folk. They’re songs about love and loss and those things you just might expect a singer/songwriter to write a song to sing about.
The trick to the singer/songwriter racket though, is to pair up good music with thoughtful lyrics that’ll make the listener think that this singer/songwriter is writing and singing songs about the listener’s own pathetic life. Xander happens to do just that on this, his self-titled third album. Lead off track, “I’ll Try To Be Good”, is a great example of what I was just saying several seconds ago—it’s sad, haunting, beautiful, universal and lingers in your brain. “My Forked Tongue”, “Last Day of the Month” and all subsequent songs aspire to, and almost reach that pinnacle, but the bar was set too high. Nathan Xander’s songs are simple but smart, sparse but with space and definitely get to the heart of matters of the heart.—Jubson Jones
Panda Kid — Scary Monster Juice
Panda Kid is a one man band from Vicenza, Italy who bashes out batches of home recordings that will play well on blown out speakers. With a guitar (acoustic or electric), a couple drums, harmonica and maybe some keys, Panda Kid works out his lo-fi muse on fuzzy indie rock. The Kid rides alternate waves from track to track, surfing from island pop (“Surfer Girl”) to catchy hooks (“Junkie Girl”), lush pop washouts (“Confidences”) to short instrumental weirdness (“Panda in Space”) all in the span of a ten track cassette tape. And not only that, Scary Monster Juice sports a 3-D cover. Take that James Cameron, you hack! [Already Dead Tapes]
The Pear Traps — Elsewhere EP
Whenever I set out my Pear Traps I usually end up catching apples. Despite being a relatively unreliable fruit snare (at least for pears, as I have explained), The Pear Traps are a reliable indie rock band from Chicago that play a mellow, laid back type of lo-fi music that puts one into a tranquil if slightly melancholy groove. It has been recommended to me that I listen to this four-song EP on a Sunday morning, which I have done. I’ve also listened to it on Friday and Saturday mornings as well, but I agree Sunday is best and my listening pleasure was greatly enhanced by the fact that the weather outside is quite sucky: rain, gloom, dark clouds, etc. A perfect day to be elsewhere.—Muggsy “McMonster” McMurphy
Rambos — Rock and Roll Monster
Rambos reached back a couple of decades for inspiration when they were constructing their Frankenstein monster of rock and roll… and that’s as far as I can go with that metaphor. It’s a shame too ’cause I really wanted to build up from the Frankenstein bit, but Rambos stick to a straight ahead rock sound—a bit like X, but maybe not as dark or poetic. They’re a little more light-hearted, a lot less serious—like Rambo. (Rambo was a fun guy too in his down time, when he wasn’t doing things that would make a billy goat puke.) Rambos write songs about monsters and vampires, Chuck Taylors and livin’ in the U.S.A. They lay those songs out with reverb, male/female vocals, rousing choruses and pun-based word play like in the tune “Poet Murder” (and I said they weren’t poetical, well shame on me. Shame on Muggsy). [Grape Juice]
Rhyton — s/t
Rhyton is an improvisational musical outfit—a jam band of sorts—a Brooklyn trio of like minds who lay out songs, riffs and free-form progressions with little or no pre-planned structural consideration. Organic and experimental yet never quite aimless and not like listening to your stoner next-door-neighbors wank ‘til dawn, although the five tracks on their self-titled debut certainly owe a debt to late-night bull sessions where this or that might be passed around to facilitate some sort of process. One would think anyway. “Stone Colored” meanders to the twelve minute “Pontian Grave” which may or may not be about a genocide. “Teké” abandons even the minimal outline of a plan, going in for effects over notes. “Dale Odalíski” further devolves into the primordial murk which allows “Shank Raids” to march into the fray with a purpose that might otherwise not seem so valiant. [Thrill Jockey]
Robyn Hitchcock — Chronology (The Very Best of Robyn Hitchcock)
Robyn Hitchcock is one of those rare musicians that there just aren’t enough of—or maybe there are. Maybe there shouldn’t be too many like him. Maybe it would get a little too crowded in the pantheon of highly prolific artists with decades-spanning careers and reputations for producing consistently great work, even throwing in a classic album every five years or so. Maybe.
Chronology is Hitchcock’s current offering—no doubt just a placeholder while he continues work on some other musical project or another, with whatever group of musicians he’s currently chosen to conspire with. The songs on this digital-only album display some of Hitchcock’s best work, at least according to him—Hitchcock selected all sixteen tracks for the record—and I agree. With three songs coming from the Soft Boy’s 1980 classic Underwater Moonlight, through his early solo recordings (including my fav “If You Were a Priest” from 1986’s Element of Light) and work with the Egyptians and a reunited Soft Boys whose six minute “Mr. Kennedy” from 2002’s Nextdoorland features an excellent double guitar solo that ranks right up there with the best of Television’s Marquee Moon—proof positive that the boys did not get soft. Three more recent solo songs end the album including the beautiful “Full Moon in My Soul” from 2003’s Spooked.
Chronology is as good an intro as any into the world of Robyn Hitchcock but it really barely scratches the surface of a remarkable career that shows no signs of slowing down. [Yep Roc]
Second H. Sam — 4-song EP
Samuele Gottardello is Second H. Sam. Does the H stand for Hand as in Second-Hand Sam? I have no first-hand knowledge one way or another. I do know that Gottardello is from Italy. I know that he is also the singer of the Hormonas from Venezia and Buzz Aldrin from Bologna. I know that he sings in a swarthy baritone voice akin to halo-bending, beat happener, Calvin Johnson. I know his music is stripped down to the bare essentials in instrumentation and recording techniques and that it was possibly performed entirely by himself. I know that this vinyl EP showcases four of his three minute plus songs of love, loss and springtime and that the cover for this seven inch was created by Turin-based artist Mattia Lullini. I just don’t know what the H stand for. [Shit Music for Shit People]
Sic Alps — s/t
I’m gonna use a cooking analogy to describe Sic Alps—an egg analogy in particular: Sic Alps are like cooking scrambled eggs. Bear with me here. It’s like when you’re making an omelet. You beat your eggs real good and then you pour them into a well-buttered pan and you leave them alone for a bit so they can cook up real nice and fluffy, but then at the last minute you throw a spatula in there and just mix them eggs all up. Now you got scrambled eggs and not an omelet. Still tastes good, but it’s different. Just as delicious, but maybe those eggs don’t look so prim and proper now.
Sic Alps have been cooking scrambled eggs for awhile now and (in case the first paragraph sailed right over your hair net) by “scrambled eggs” I mean slightly disjointed indie pop music. Some of the ingredients the Alps use would be recognizable even to the most entry-level prep cook. The Beatles are thrown in on more than one occasion (“Rock Races” for example) and the Velvet Underground are certainly essential to the recipe (“Thylacine Man”). Also part of a balanced breakfast is the endearing acoustic track, “Lazy Sons” (which sums up the role of sons everywhere); the rockiness of “God Bless Her, I Miss Her”; the jaunty joy of “Moviehead” and see if “See You on the Slopes” won’t have you crying into your flapjacks. Serve hot and enjoy! [Drag City]
Silver Jews — Early Times 90-91
This is for the hardcore Silver Jews fan out there ’cause these fourteen tracks take the term lo-fi and grinds it down a fi or two. The songs on this compilation come courtesy of the band’s Dime Map of the Reef 7″ and the Arizona Record 12″ and even by early 90s (and Silver Jews!) standards this is some pretty rough stuff, but the album ain’t called Early Times ‘cause of the whisky they were drinkin’. Well, maybe it is. Whatever the quality of sound or total lack thereof, Early Times is simply a testament to the early, early stages of a group of hardworking “slackers” who probably drank too much but cared enough about music to not sweat the small stuff. Form a band now and learn to play later is the best model for good music anyway. All that said, music buffs and Silver Jews fans may rejoice at the release of this historic document, but repeated listening? Not so much. [Drag City]
Southside Stranglers — Devilled EP
Oshkosh rocks kosh b’gosh. Oshkosh’s Southside Stranglers have a 90s sound that does remind one of Helmet in its driving, yet totally moshable rhythmic attack. It’s heavy, a little edgy and slightly menacing. The Devilled EP is damn near an LP with seven tunes tightly packed into just over twenty minutes. “The Blood We Bleed,” while perhaps not the best song title ever, is the standout track track for me. The packaging on this CD is simple and pretty cool. Can’t do that on an MP3. Nope.
Strange Hands — Dead Flowers
Born in Bordeaux, the French psychedelic trio, Strange Hands, pimp their lo-fi brand of endearing jangly rock on their new twelve track LP, Dead Flowers. The Hands capture the spirit of the garage with tunes that can get poppy, “Bunny Slipper”, intense “Love Illusion” and instrumental, “Dead Flowers” and uneasy, “Anxious Pictures”—a bad trip but in a good way. There’s something about Strange Hands that remind me of the late great Southwestern American punk rock band Scared of Chaka—probably the low quality of the recording mixed with the high energy of the performances. Stellar cover art by Lucas Donaud. [Shit Music for Shit People]
The Box — “The Door” b/w “The Brain” 7”
Vincent Bergier, former guitarist for French garage rock legends, Crash Normal is packaging his solo efforts into The Box these days. This two song 7” inch from Plastic Spoon records shows what Bergier is up to musically with two dark, brooding tracks. “The Door” opens with some imposing synths, a menacing drum machine beat and crackling tube amp as Vincent pontificates about god-knows-what in a barely audible voice. “The Brain” processes similar musical thoughts substituting a clean guitar sound to do battle with distorted guitar noise. The repetition is competing for the attention of your riff-addled mind. Bergier provides the cool and colorful cover art. [Plastic Spoon]
Two Bit Dezperados/Beat Mark — Split 7”
Portuguese rockers, Two Bit Dezperados, provide the a-side for this split seven inch from the good people at Shit Music. “Blind” is their track and it’s all rousing verses giving way to a raving, wordless chorus. It sounds like it was recorded in a damp basement with nothing but old tube amps and reverb. Just the way we like it ’round here. France’s Beat Mark get the flip and they come at us with a bouncy, jangly pop tune that’s got kind of a Feelies groove to it, if the Feelies had a female singer (or a singer who could sing in tune—no disrespect to the Feelies). Both of these bands feature women taking the lead on the mike and French artist Vanessa Fanuele provides the cover art this time around.[Shit Music for Shit People]
Vermillion Sands — “Summer Mellody” b/w “A Sweet Bitter Winter” 7″
The Italian band Vermillion Sands gives us the two seasons on this 7″ record. Vivaldi would certainly roll over in his grave and laugh (possibly out loud) at the thought of excluding fall and winter from any musical work concerning the seasons. But then maybe Vivaldi would’ve had the bread to kick in for a double seven-inch. Yeah, that’s true, he did die poor, but I was thinking more like when he was at the height of his popularity—like when Charles VI was all up on his jock. Well, that’s ridiculous and a completely unnecessary digression at any rate. “Summer Mellody” is provided for the A side and it is bouncy and infectious and has a carnival-like vibe that would make it hard for Vivaldi not to smile and tap a toe along too. “A Sweet Bitter Winter” on the other hand, is also an upbeat number but in a garage/blues kinda way. I must confess, I have not a clue how Antonio V. would feel about it, but I like it. [Shit Music for Shit People]
Vernon Selavy — Stressed Desserts Blues
Vernon Sélavy is the brainchild of Turin-based musician, Vincenzo Marando. The Italian singer/ guitarist/songwriter is somewhat of a human ShamWow when it comes to American music—he seems to have soaked up twenty times his weight in old records, then wrung them out into his own songs of lost love and redemption. Channeling blues, 60s R&B and elements of southern gospel, Marando, via Vernon SéLavy, gives us Stressed Desserts Blues, nine tracks of stripped down picking, plucking, strumming and crooning. From the slightly sad swing of “The Way it Goes”, to the rueful “All The Sinners Burn” and the aching “Ballad of the Empty Hands,” Marando lets his influences and love for America’s musical past flow like spilt wine into the shag carpet of the soul. [Azbin]
White Hills — Frying on this Rock
Don’t know where the White Hills are (the moon?) but apparently they’re on a planet or satellite rock where dudes like to zone out on gnarly jams (Earth?)—a planet where it’s customary to grow some hair, keep your head down and riff. White Hills like to lay into it and stay there for extended periods of time. From the opening of “Pads of Light” (an epic space rock jam) they just roll it on out into a “Robot Stomp” in which robots dish out a repetitive mechanical beat-down for nearly twelve minutes (that’s three days in robot time). “I Write a Thousand Letters (Pulp on the Bone)” one-ups that in reaching for the 14 minute mark and making it. If you’re prospecting in the White Hills, you’re likely to hit a heavy lode, so grab a pick ax and a bucket, Klondike, and start diggin’. [Thrill Jockey]
Hayward Howkins — The Hale and Hearty
Folky singer/songwriters are certainly in no short supply these days. Nope, there’s a real plethora of ‘em stretchin’ out all across this great nation, east to west, north to south. Probably in Alaska and Hawaii and some of the territories too. (We still got territories?). It’s lucky for Heyward Howkins that he’s got some singer/songwriter chops. The eleven songs on The Hale & Hearty feature some quality songwriting with full, but not cluttered, arrangements that showcase his ease at writing gently rolling melodies. Howkins makes a smart move hooking the listener early too. The record kicks of with the simple and beautiful “Thunderin’ Stop”, a simple guitar and violin tune which is not thunderin’ in a thunderin’ sense but the point is made nonetheless. The rest of the record follows suit with mellow, buttery jams (“The Live Oak”) and more somber numbers (“The Raucous Call of Morning”). A solid, earnest effort from a relatively unknown player.
As a side note, Howkins’ Great Great Great Great Great Grandfather (G5) was the “Singing Signer” Thomas Heyward who put his John Hancock on the Declaration of Independence (along with John Hancock) in 1776.
Tyranny is Tyranny — The Rise of Disaster Capitalism
The fact that Tyranny is Tyranny took the subtitle of Naomi Klein’s book The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism for the name of their latest full-length gives you a pretty good idea where this band comes from politically. Musically, they come from a bleak post-hardcore region of noisy sludge. Geographically, they hail from Madison, WI, which has a fair bit of snowy sludge for a good chunk of the year. I lived in Madison for a stretch recently and was able to catch this band of raging lefties in action a few times. One show was at Mr. Roberts, which Chicagoans should imagine as the Mutiny only with Packers/Brewers garb and signage instead of Bears/Cubs.
The album contains only five songs, but they are all either mini-epics or full-on multi-part tunes that push the album past the 40 minute mark. Throaty screaming about the ills of capitalism running unchecked and amuck provides much of the subject matter. The album opens with “Or Does it Explode” a reference to the poem “Harlem” with lyrics inspired by two other Langston Hughes poems, “Lenox Avenue Mural” and “Let America Be America Again”. The second track, “She Who Struggles,” concerns itself with J. Edgar Hoover’s COINTELPRO program. It opens slowly with sparse instrumentation before bursting into rage. The album is not all full-on metal plodding, “Pillar of Cloud Pillar of Fire” features a somber trumpet as it builds and collapses. “Victory Will Defeat You” ends the album over the course of a nearly fifteen minute march.
Being in a band can feel like a long hard slog sometimes and Tyranny is Tyranny delivers a good forceful pounding which post hardcore fans will enjoy regardless of their politics. [Phatry]
The Central — Discovery of a Rat
The Central deliver a new twelve-song album from their home base in Madison, Wisconsin. The general population of the great “Cheese State” apparently bought the Trump line of gaudy merchandise hook, line and sinker, but I won’t hold that against this band or the 77 square miles surrounding its capital city.
The Central, by its own admission, is a progressive grind band and they do grind, but this two-piece outfit is by no means a one-trick-pony. Their latest full-length album, Discovery Of A Rat, contains a full-on assault of extreme noise that is angry and raw to be sure, but there’s also quiet parts and little melodic worms that work their way into their songs and then into your skull. This includes but is not limited to the funky ditty “Palette Cleanser” which is the sonic version of exactly that. Many of the tracks contain as much groove as grind, and more math rock than full on metal mayhem. “Australian Karate Jew” has a 90s indie/math rock sound; “Totem Bowl” actually has a speedy, hyper kinetic pop sound; and “Pop Culture Prostitute”, which features audio snippets of Henry Rollins being a dick, is an especially thrashed out track. As a side note, the album cover is excessively gnarly.
Discovery Of A Rat is cathartic, angry and loud, yet razor sharp. Don’t believe me? Stream it for yourself. [Blue Bedroom]
Nathan Xander — Blue House
Nathan Xander returns. Not that he went away, but he is back, nevertheless, with an album full of homesickness and being homeward bound. The Pennsylvania native is based in New York City these days, but he has enjoyed a period of wandering that has seen him living the nomadic life of a troubadour. This is evident on the 12-tracks of Blue House, which was recorded in Upstate New York, in a barn, painted blue, providing at least one meaning behind the album’s title.
Xander delivers his goods with simple acoustic arrangements and heartfelt crooning in a strained, world-weary voice. It’s an approach that’s he employs straight out of the gate on the opener, “Mount Washington,” a slow burner of longing if there ever was one. Like most of the songs on Blue House, it’s got an old school country twang combined with pop sense.
The album continues to deliver with “Over Me, Over You,” another slow and sad jam that would be at home on the jukebox next to Patsy Cline. “You’re Never Wrong” captures the warm glow of 70s AM radio but washed in reverb and melancholy. “Enoch’s Blues” does indeed have a bluesy swing that’s hard to resist. “Pennsylvania” is about Xander’s home state in which asks to be brought home because he hates his neighbors and he hates his job, but he doesn’t hate Pennsylvania yet.
There’s a sense of loss and being forlorn on Blue House, but there is a bit of defiance as well and Xander’s more versed in country than the blues, anyway. Whatever mood the songs reflect, the production remains bright and the pace never drags [Trailer Fire Records]
Sweet Times Volume 6 — Various Artists
Sweet Times Volume 6 is a four-way seven inch split compilation from the German label Who Can You Trust? You can generally trust WCYT? to put out some heavy rock and this sixth volume of their series is no exception. While I missed Sweet Times volume 1 through 5, I would imagine they contained similar efforts from like-minded bands.
Oakland’s Dealer step up to knock out the first song of side A with a heavy slab called “Casino” which sounds like early 90s Sub Pop—maybe a few fingers borrowed from Six Finger Satellite.
Sticking with the state of California, Char-Man, from Ojai, deliver a jangly Ramones-inspired fuck all tune about whatever “Freak Rock” is. Hydromedusa from Adelaide (in the Down Under) bring us a song called (and possibly about) Falco. And to bring it all home, L.A.’s Zig Zags bleed all over a track called “Blood” and a Black Sabbath-sized riff.
The main thrust of this comp., and the bands on it, is heavy unbridled rock with a little metal and punk thrown in for good measure. I think they used to call this grunge, but I could be mistaken.
This seven inch EP is a limited edition run of 500 and features a cover by Jesse California, seemingly inspired by Gilbert Sheldon’s Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers. [Who Can You Trust?]
Max Hall — Abstractithica
Abstractithica is a 45 minute collage of field recordings meticulously culled from anywhere and everywhere, around the world, and in the UK in particular.
Hall used a stereo field recorder to grab bits of conversations, street noises and anything else of aural interest to him. It took him a year to put the pieces together and the result is an interesting and mildly hypnotic recording. I found it quite pleasant to listen to whilst concentrating on other things, like writing reviews for example. Smatterings of applause pop up as does traffic noise, even snatches of a Manu Chao song reveal themselves at unexpected times. It’s like taking a walk down the street while blindfolded. A sensory stimulation and a out of body simulation. Public transportation and some circus or carnival music jars you out of the trances. This is a very limited edition run of 250 vinyl LPs that is worth investigating if you are into experimental music, sound collages and the like. [Evil Hoodoo]
Daydream Time Machine EP — Wooing
Rachel Trachtenburg’s latest band, Wooing, is looking to do just that with this three-song seven inch EP from Ba Da Bing. Though still shy of 30 by a few years, Trachtenburg has already had a long career in music. From her childhood days in the family band, The Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players, and the pop project that followed, Supercute!, she has been a presence on the music scene in New York City since the tender age of nine.
A long affiliation with NYC has rubbed off on Wooing in a good way and it’s a good long way from cloyingly cute ukulele and keyboard music. The three songs on the band’s debut incorporate a Sonic Youth-inspired guitar noise assault and makes use of the loud/soft, sweet/noisy formula of 90s bands like Nirvana and the Breeders all. It works well when set against Trachtenburg’s sweet, youthful voice.
“In Color,” a song inspired by the LSD experiments performed on housewives in the 1950s, starts with quiet guitar and hushed vocals that rise in a wave of reverb-soaked guitars and a sliding bass line that helps it builds into a bad trip freakout before resolving itself.
“Tear World” is stressed out, screaming guitars that can only be soothed by Trachtenburg’s crooning pleas, ending with guitars that mimic the language of whales, if I’m not mistaken. On “Two Can Keep A Secret” the vocals match the agitated intensity of the rest of the band before it too resolves into sweetness and light. A solid three-song effort for this brand new trio and a hope that they maintain the effort. [Ba Da Bing]
AZITA — Disturbing the Air
The twelve songs on Disturbing the Air probably won’t get stuck in your head. Having been freed from AZITA’s mind, they aren’t likely to be confined ever again. What may linger, however, is the melancholy feeling and dark mood created by her sparse piano ballads. I don’t know that AZITA creates outsider art, but she definitely works on the outside of conventional music. She always has, despite her training in classical piano. From her time in no wave bands, Scissor Girls and Bride of No No, AZITA has always brought a challenge to the turntable. What was once loud, abrasive and impossible to ignore has become equally challenging and confrontational on a different emotional level. With just her voice and simple, at times atonal, piano lines, AZITA creates haunting songs of emptiness and loneliness that won’t quickly fade from your psyche. [Drag City]
AZITA — Year
Year is the sixth solo record for the avant garde chanteuse, and former no-wave antagonist, AZITA. It’s a slight departure from her previous effort, Disturbing the Air. One might even call it accessible. Almost. It has it’s darker moments to be sure, (like the song “Opening” later reprised as “Closing”), but songs like “Out and Around” have a hopeful, optimistic vibe to them and “Ice”, despite the coldness of the title, conjours up feelings of inside warmth when outside it’s anything but. “Passengers” has AZITA’s piano sharing space with a warm-toned guitar that verges on 70s AM radio. “It’s Understanding” is a rolling piano tune which showcases AZITAs immediately recognizable, and at times atonal, singing voice searching for the key before thinking better of it. The standout track for me, clocking in at eight minutes and fifty-one seconds, is the surprisingly good, dubby reggae tune, “Something That Happened”—just another twist in the shifting road Azita travels on. [Drag City]
Angel Olsen — Half Way Home
Angel Olsen sounds like Patsy Cline after having fallen to pieces. Her songs sound so aching and so despairingly melancholy that you’ll actually enjoy the bit of sadness it will bring to your day. This aspect of Angel’s songwriting is underlined by her vocal delivery which soars and dives as her heart commands.
Half Way Home contains songs whose subject matter us puny humans have been enduring since the beginning of our time on this shitty planet. It’s a real bummer, girlfriend.
“Safe in the Womb” is a sparse song with Angel on guitar singing about safety, comfort and the feeling of protection. “Free” harkens back to an old school swing and “The Waiting” is a classic, sad country tale of lost love. These, and the rest, represent what’s best about folk and old country and the Appalachian and blues tradition of American music. It’s what the awful CMT should be rewarding. It’s soulful, haunting, love damaged and reminds us that things will get better, but not much and not for long. [Bathetic]
Grip — Early Iteration
When Grip’s debut album, Early Iteration, grabs a hold of your ears, good luck prying off those cold, dead fingers. From the very first seconds of feedback that signal the start of leadoff track, “Entrance,” until the album closes an hour later with “Judgment,” it’s all they way on. That’s not to say the pace never relents. There are brief instrumental interludes scattered about that give a respite from the aural anguish, but it doesn’t last. Even when things do chill out momentarily, the tension never fully abates for the majority of this 9-song album.
Early Iteration is the result of nearly four years of writing and self-recording work. The tracks were recorded in Philadelphia and Chicago between 2016 and 2019. It’s the first release for this Philly band since their 5-song “Wolves/Fawn” EP in 2015, put out a year after the band’s formation. At this point in its tenure, Grip is a duo with Alex handling the guitar and vocals and Dan on the bass with both handling the drum programming.
According to the description on the band’s Bandcamp page for the album, “Early Iteration draws upon a mythic structure to deliver a multifaceted narrative addressing sacrifice, belief, and the evolution of an idea.” The listener will have to take the band’s word for it, as the lyrics are not easy to decipher. They’re delivered with abrasive, throat ravaging vocals. Yes, there will be screaming—not all all uncommon in the post hardcore genre which seems to be defined by aggression and brutality.
The album art, as sparse and bare bones as the music, was created by Alex. Grip also dubs and releases their own music on cassette, which to date has included a few singles and the previously mentioned EP, in addition to this full-length.
Parquet Courts — Light Up Gold
It’s fitting pehaps that Parquet Courts use footage from old hardcore shows in their video for “Light Up Gold II”. They’re anything but a hardcore band, but they defitnitely wear their influences on the sleeves of their throwback jerseys (yep, that’s a football reference). I have a feeling this is a band of former record store clerks—record collecting geeks at the very least. I hear so many bands I love in each song and in the Court’s whole approach to the band thing. There’s Minutemen for brevity (“Donuts Only”). There’s Camper Van Beethoven for jangly sing-alongs (“Light Up Gold II”). There’s Modern Lovers (“Stoned and Starving”) complete with ad hoc guitar solos. There’s the lo-fi pop weirdness of GBV (“Caster of Useless Spells”). The record also has general themes of humor “Careers in Combat”, “N. Dakota” and what could be called a love song (“Yonder is Closer to the Heart”). These guys soaked it all up to make a classic record complete with the requisite imperfections of wrong notes, out-of-tune guitars and pitchy vocals. Light Up Gold is a welcome relief from some dudes who get it. I get it. Get this record! [Dull Tools]
Scout Niblett — It’s Up to Emma
Scout Niblett sought solace in Rollins Band for her seventh full-length, It’s Up to Emma. That’s not necessarily evident from the music. It’s more of a spiritual kinship and the drawing of strength and inspiration. Catharsis, as it were.
It’s Up to Emma, (Emma being Ms. Niblett’s real first name) is a nine song dissection of a relationship gone all crumbly and awry. Very crumbly and very horribly awry. Each song on the record seems to beg a different question of how, why and what the fuck? There’s accusation, revelation, venom, confusion, wishful thinking and heartache all wrapped up in a handful of bare bones rock songs delivered with short stabs of pain and then longer stabs of anguish. There’s not much joy to be found here unless you find joy in being bummed out.
“Gun” is a menacing tune that promises the threat of a revenge served hot and steaming straight out of the barrel of a gun. Like most of the tracks, “My Man” is sparse, just guitar, some strings and Scout asking, “Could we have made it somehow?” Probably not is probably the answer. “Could This Possibly Be?” is another questioning tune in which the answer this time is, yes. “Second Chance Dreams” starts off gently enough only to have the anger simmer over in Scout’s acutely enunciated syllables, which then get underlined by a martial snare drum. “No Scrubs” is that “No Scrubs” with Scout straight up calling out homeboys for their overall lack of flyness. This is a record of someone dealing with some shit, going through some shit and feeling pretty shitty, but once it’s out, then it’s really over. One would hope. [Drag City]
39th and the Nortons — On Trial
Twangy, countrified 60s style garage rock and roll from France via Great Britain. (I think.) If you like your Nuggets olden and golden and served with some sweet organ and harmonica and drenched in a delicious reverb sauce, then you’re gonna wanna head on down to 39th and the Nortons and get yourself a heaping helping of this eleven song plat du jour (I am certain I used that term incorrectly). You can download this meal from Evil Hoodoo or you can go one awesome step further and order the cassette which is served in a hand-stitched fabric sleeve, or bag of some sort. Limited edition of 100. I am now hungry for pancakes! Let’s eat! [Evil Hoodoo]
Der Todesking — Real Bomb
Named for the bleak as fuck German death flick in which a violent suicide or murder is depicted for each day of the ever-lovin’ week, Der Todesking (Death King), lets you know right up front just what kind of creeped out aesthetic they’re into. It’s horror-core punk rock with a real bummer edge. The Real Bomb cassette is nine songs of dirty grit, grime, knives, fire and flame. With screaming, growling vocals and nasty unpolished noise, D.T. get right up in your face with it. There’s a nod to seminal SoCal hardcore band Black Flag in “Playing with Knives” which has its own take on “Six Pack”: “I’ve got a knife with nothing to do/I’ve got a knife and I don’t need you.” And “Arson” gives similar props to The Descendents’ own “Suburban Home” and their desire to (not) be stereotyped and classified, thank you very much. Scary like punk rock usta was and should be again. [Der Todesking] [XO Tapes]
Howling Hex —
The Best of Howling Hex
In the imaginary world of The Howling Hex, every day is a circus where junkies waltz to a crazy bouncy beat. Carnies jockey for a chance to get your nickel for a ride along the border separating north and south from insanity. “New Border Soul” it’s been called for that very reason, I suspect. I would warn a varmint not to listen to this thing the whole way through too many times in one sitting. There’s a chance you may be whisked away completely—across a big dry desert or a tall wet mountain. If you can make it through “Trashcan Bahamas” then you’re the kind of creature that has Metal Machine Music on repeat on your iPod. That’s not to say it’s not musical, it is—they both are—it just takes brain cells with a bunch of strength and mental stamina. Now that I’ve cleared all that up, it must be said that Neil Haggerty’s The Howling Hex is still a bit of an enigma, especially since I tried not find out anything in the first place. Not knowing is a good way to start and end and The Best of Howling Hex is all you really need to know either way. Haggerty gonna do what Haggerty gonna do so there’s no sense thinking too much about it. [Drag City]
Adam Arcuragi s/t
This is Philadelphia singer/songwriter, Adam Arcuragi’s untitled first album. And you know, I don’t typically go for such earnest and heartfelt crooning such as this, but after giving this CD a couple plays that still hold true. The effort, nonetheless, is appreciated. [High Two]
Healthy White Baby — s/t
I’m not familiar with the bands The Blacks or Blue Mountain from whence HWB members once hailed, but I do enjoy the sound on this recording. Kinda folksy, kinda rock, gots kind of a 70s feel to it for some reason I can’t exaclty pinpoint. 70s in a good way, though. Don’t mistake my meaning. Don’t care much for the name, but even so the HWB done right by me musically, and in a my advanced age that’s all I ask. [Broadmoor]
The Krunchies — In De Winkel
Holy shit. Holy shitt. Hot shittt. Krunchies lay it down fast and furious. Don’t know what a In De Winkel is. I know what a Rip Van Winkle is. I know what a Rob Van Winkle is but I sure don’t know what a In DeWinkel is. I think I knew in college but anyway, I think it must surely mean the music made when three freaks make punk rock music. [Criminal IQ]
M.O.T.O. — Raw Power
Oh, the M.O.T.O. and that rock and roll they do so well, so effortlessly. Granted, this ain’t the wheel Caporino and crew are reinventing here but it satisfies a certain part of the brain that finds comfort in the familiar. Songs about physics class (“Getting It Up for Physics”), meeting by the flagpole (“Meet Me by the Flagpole”) and getting drunk alone (“Gonna Get Drunk Tonight”), generate a certain and undeniable nostalgic feeling in the listeners synapses. That’s raw power, professor. [Criminal IQ]
The Phenoms — Home Brain Surgery Kit
Home-made rock and roll from Chicago. Dirty, sloppy, crude, spastic, unrelenting, stoopid, mind melting home-made rock and roll from Chicago. The Phenoms aren’t just owners of the Home Brain Surgery Kit, they’re also a client. [Beer Can]
The Polkaholics — Polka Über Alles
The Reglar Wiglar has been a Polkaholics booster for years, since back in the days when Jumpin’ George and Merry Mike were the Polka-nist rhythm section on the nort’ side or the sout’ side for that matter. But it’s not just polka, there’s elements of rock and roll thrown in there so even the baby boomers can dig it. And am I crazy or is that a tip of the hat to Television’s “Marquee Moon” on “Pimps of Polka”? Brilliant. Now if you’ll excuse me, my brat is ready.
Self-Evident — Epistemology
As everyone knows epistemology is the part of philosophy that studies the nature knowledge and shit like that. What is self-evident is that this is some indie math rock from Oklahoma. It’s like a prog rock emo band. That is what is self evident. What may not be so self-evident is that I am not a flag waiver of any of those particular genres. Well, I do have a few Yes albums, but I bought those mostly for the album covers (you know what I’m talking about) so listening to Self-Evident’s treatise on the nature of knowledge is not something that I am enjoying. [doubleplusgood]
The Willis — Bathtub, Lightbulb, Heartattack
The Willis have kind of an early 90s indie rock sound. It’s reminding me at times of American Music Club and Pavement which are two bands that I dig but have not listened to in quite awhile. It’s ago ok to go back there. Some of my mid 90s wounds have healed and I can listen to this and deal with the painful memories. Beside if the 80s are back now, can the 90s be far behind. We just have to get through the grunge revival first. Look for that to start hitting in 2008. [doubleplusgood]