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Record Reviews

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Below are some recently posted reviews.

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EXXTRAS, THE:
Waiting for You: Cassette
There was something about this band that just sniped at the brain, and after seeing that they were from San Pedro, it finally came together: The Exxtras features Jack Brewer, who did time as the vocalist for Saccharine Trust. Dude’s voice is unmistakable. Unfortunately, and it really bums me out to say it, Waiting for You is a pretty cringe-worthy merging of ‘60s psychedelia, funk, straight-up pop music, and an occasional punk leaning. There’s certain bravery inherent in trying to amalgamate such a varied cross-section of interests, but sheesh, the results are pretty bad. I never need to hear a pseudo-funk song about fracking again, and try as I may, the best I can come up with is a Spin Doctors meets Psychic… Powerless…-era Butthole Surfers comparison here. –keith (Water Under The Bridge)


EXTENDED SUICIDE:
Breakdance Anthems: 7” EP
Okay, what the fuck? A noisy thrash band with lyrics in Spanish and English—from a band hailing from Denmark?! Dunno if one can breakdance to it, but they kick up a nice fuckin’ cloud of dust here. Limited to 303 copies. –jimmy (Spaghetti Cassetti, spaghetticassetti.dk)


EX-CULT:
Self-titled: LP
Used to be known as Sex Cult. I guess they’ve been deprogrammed. Despite the name change, they’re pretty much the same band. Though comparing this to their Errand Boy EP, this recording is a little more clean and less sharp and dirty. However, the “off” and sinister tone that permeates their music is fully intact. There’s something about the vocal delivery that’s confrontational without relying on screaming and shouting or spitting words out. It’s more in their direct “matter of fact” way, and how words are allowed to have space for more effect. It’s a mix of Frank Discussion, Claude Bessy, and Mike Lohrman. The female backup vocals that come in on “She’s on Film” sound a little like a flash that’s reboosting. What I really like about this record is how the music is driving and forceful, yet there’s a strong tunefulness to everything. “Better Living through Chemistry” is mainly mid tempo and the most tuneful of all. For the most part, they tend to keep the energy high. They do lose a little steam on the ender “Future Victims.” But on the whole, this is a pretty good record. A good late night listening type of record. –Matt Average (Goner, goner-records.com)


ESCATONES, THE:
“Out of Sight” b/w “Eastbeach Stomp”: 7”
I thoroughly enjoyed this 7”. The artwork is an excellent drawing of monsters surfing in the style of Ed “Big Daddy” Roth. The back cover suggests that the record be filed under “surf rock.” I didn’t actually find the songs to be surf rock in the way I think about it, but that might be my own shortcoming. It’s probably a weird 7” by which to judge the band. I only mention it because I think the music would be better enjoyed by Butthole Surfer enthusiasts. Being a fan, it’s hard for me to disassociate the fact that Butthole Surfers guitarist Paul Leary appears on “Out of Sight.” The song is excellent: it moves at the pace of slower Surfer’s fare like “John E. Smoke” and “Cherub.” The second song is more traditional surf fare. It’s a little more Santo & Johnny-paced than Tornados. I dug both songs. It’s a solid record. Definitely curious to hear more. –Billups Allen (Artificial Head)


EROTIC DEVICES:
We Vibrate!: 7”
It’s no secret that I like some funny in my punk rock. Right off the bat, this one looks to be a winner. Band name: Erotic Devices. Check! Record title: We Vibrate. Check! Cover art: A gerbil dressed in jeans and a leather jacket like he’s waiting for Richard Gere down at 53rd & 3rd. Check! Musically, Erotic Devices keep with the Ramones angle, and they do it well. There’s a lot of what they “wanna” and “don’t wanna” do and that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with taking a good thing and doing it well. It had me buzzing! HEY-OH! –ty (Incognito, incognintorecords.de)


EJECTOR SEATS, THE:
Say Sorry: LP
Wildly unique, yet catchy enough to appeal to a broad base of people into all sorts of punk rock, The Ejector Seats are a terrific mix of pop, garage, and early 1980s hardcore. The gatefold sleeve and pretty marbled vinyl suggest a more prefab, slicker presentation than the record itself, which is gleefully raw and potent. There’s more than one band called The Ejector Seats, but this is the one to look for. Bonus points are awarded for the crafty “owner’s manual” accompanying the record, in which the band lists its shortcomings and makes apologies. And yes, the album’s called Say Sorry. There’s nothing to apologize for, though. The Ejector Seats represent primal, instinctual punk at its finest. –Art Ettinger (Collision Course)


DRY FEET:
Highway to Heck: 7”
Philadelphia’s Dry Feet have been around for a few years now and regularly churn out fast, surf-influenced garage 7”s. They’re a band with a sense of humor, but the musicianship and recording are taken very seriously. The minimalist record sleeve goes hand in hand with their stripped-down sound. They look like total fucking clowns, in the class clown sense of clown. As people, I bet they’re blissfully obnoxious, unlike this cool record, which is pure poppy garage delight. Richmond label Secret Cookies is off to a nifty start with this 7”. –Art Ettinger (Secret Cookies, secretcookiesrva.storenvy.com)


DROPKICK MURPHYS:
Signed and Sealed in Blood: CD
Hot off the presses, Boston’s everyman band returns with a new record. Shout-along anthems, rowdy party rockers, and the usual humorous lyrics here and there make this an engaging listen. There’s no unified theme this time, but I think that helps to make the whole outing a bit tighter on this go-round. If you were expecting not to hear songs about drinking, then look elsewhere. But if you take the time to dig into songs like “Don’t Tear Us Apart” and “End of the Night,” you will be richly rewarded. Plus, “The Season’s upon Us” is the best rock X-mas jingle since “Father Christmas.” You can put that in your pipe and smoke it. –koepenick (Born And Bred, management@dropkickmurphys.com)


DONALD THOMPSON:
Screamin’ Feedback: 7” EP
Additional penis-pumping punk from an Italian squad more notable to me for their always-fine cover art and namesake ((an Oklahoma judge convicted of using a penis pump whilst hearing cases)) than for their material being any manner of sonic manna for my soul. Loud, well-played, and well-produced punk with hard rock leanings not unlike some of the less-interesting ((but not entirely horrible)) West Coast bands of about fifteen years ago ((I’m trying to remember the name of that band who didn’t have the bass player and did a Rose Tattoo cover but so far it’s eluding me)). Lyrically, one song rails about “pussies on MTV,” whilst another bemoans today’s generation always being “on TV or Playstation®. One half expects them to start ragging on disco, Pac-Man and CHiPs next. I think the Luv Bulb needs a few more squeezes. BEST SONG: “No Way.” BEST SONG TITLE: “Screamin’ Feedback.” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: A download code is hand-taped to each lyric sheet. Hey, i don’t know where that hand’s been! –norb (Surfin’ Ki, surfinkirecords@hotmail.it)


DIVINE 6/7, THE:
Self-titled: LP
I’m not baiting you if I say, “I don’t know a Justin Bieber song.” I’m not being contrarian when I say, “Nope, never heard Lady Gaga, that I know about.” My thinking is this: certain people spend a lot of time regulating what they ingest and to what they subject their bodies and minds. Food. Exercise. Politics. The sun. Disposable, popular music. Music’s important to me. I cherish the rare place I’m in. No personal Facebook. No cell phone. Records get sent to me in the mail. I can listen to bands and people I admire (sometimes adore) on a regular basis in a manner I find fulfilling at my own pace without a corporation attempting to slide its oil-soaked hands down the front of my pants to extract my wallet (or digital equivalent). The Divine 6/7 feature Jamie and Katie of the Pine Hill Haints and two talented women. The songs are rad. I agree with Jamie’s assessment: they’re looking for that perfect song. This record—a collection of released and new material—is a joy to listen to. It’s an honest, real, authentic, fun, and exuberant record recorded in 2012. So, I’ll make you a deal, popular shit culture who disbelieves that some people just don’t care about you. I’ll listen to your pop trash for one or two songs if you agree to take time, sit down, and listen to the Divine 6/7 on vinyl. Then we’ve got a deal. A one-to-one deal. Yeah, I know it’s asking a lot, but those are the terms. Damn it. Orwell was right again. People are embracing their own systems of control, loving them, and are becoming addicted to the distraction, instead of being cautious of it… and this is a damn fine record. –todd (Arkam)


DISSENSION:
Why Work for Death/We the Fooled: CD
Been a bit of local buzz about these cats of late for a couple o’ reasons, the first being this disc. For those short on long-term memory or just weren’t around thirty years ago, Dissension were a Long Beach, California hardcore band known for a specific brand of zippy thrash very popular in the mid-’80s. They, along with Final Conflict (and maybe Uniform Choice), seemed to be ubiquitous on Fenders Ballroom lineups when that violent-and-hot-as-fuck joint was thee dive du jour in L.A. punkdom. Collected here are their two albums, originally released in 1986 and 1988, in all their breakneck glory, providing the soundtrack for innumerable memories of gang fights, dangling from the beam hanging over Fenders’ stage, underage drinking (the flash memory of too many nights shotgunning alternate gulps of cheap vodka and Donald Duck orange juice in a nearby alley still makes my stomach turn), not-so-clandestine sex, assorted teenage traumas and dramas, violent Samoan bouncers, violent skin/punk bouncers, sweating buckets inside then stepping out into mid-winter weather, and some truly classic gigs. If yer a fan of hardcore, these bad boys more than hold up to the test of time and are definitely worth your dime. The other reason there’s been buzz is that they are apparently again making the gig rounds. If they’re anything remotely on par with what they were back then, I can say with some confidence they’re more than worth the effort to see ‘em. Kudos to Bad Idea for making this stuff available again. –jimmy (Bad Idea)


DESPISE:
Desolate: 7”
“Desolate” could be the best song about seasonal affective disorder ever written. Bleak and heart ripping, it speaks of the “Dreary shroud of winter” that everyone who lives in Minneapolis understands so well. It’s where Despise is from. It’s where I’m from. It’s where the cold gets into you through cracks in your knuckles and you find your hands bleeding and your face numb and it sometimes feels like it’s pulling you to an ending, and now there’s a soundtrack to go with that feeling. –mp (Profane Existence)


DEATHRAID / DESPERAT:
Split: 12”
Holy fu-u-u-uck! This is the sort of record you only dream of. Two powerhouses on one slab of grayish marble vinyl. I’m a fan of Desperat, and when I see their records I mentally drool and my mind melts down, “Gotta get this! Gotta get this!” Then, you get Deathraid, who absolutely destroy! Seriously, you would never suspect they are from Seattle. They sound like they’re from Sweden: heavy d-beat hardcore along the lines of Wolfbrigade and Anti-Cimex. The low end on this makes wood floors hum. These songs kill. Tempos range from a mid-tempo chug to fast and chaotic. Drums and guitars smash into each other. Then there’s a pause that lets the bass churn for a moment. Then wham! I like the message of “Enough to Make You Sick,” which points out the general hypocrisy of people who claim to love animals, and are against cruelty, yet don’t hesitate to eat them. Desperat, which consists of members from Mob 47, Warvictims, and Discard, who have been somewhat prolific these past few years, have a little low end in their sound compared to Deathraid, but are still as deadly. The songs are fast, tight, and catchy. Words are spit in a near, rapid-fire attack with a strong sense of urgency. The guitar and bass crank away with an agitated buzzing and rumble sound. The percussion keeps it straight and to the point, busting holes in the sonic wall. This record is absolutely mandatory. –Matt Average (World Funeral, worldfuneralrecords.com)


DEATH BY STEAMSHIP:
Facetious: 7”
Ick, barf. Reminds me of that time in the early 2000s when basement shows were full of dinguses in too-tight-fitting clothes dancin’ all spazzy to shitty, keyboard-driven dance punk. I don’t even think there are keyboards on this, but I hear ‘em in my head. –Ryan Horky (Whoa! Boat, whoaboatrecords.com)


DEAD MILKMEN:
Dark Clouds over Middlemarch: 7”
I’m still having a hard time figuring out how it can be 2013 and Dead Milkmen are releasing new records. It’s just something that I never would have expected to happen. After 2011’s The King in Yellow, I thought it would be a long time until we heard from Dead Milkmen again. Nope. Not only have they put out this piece of vinyl, but they’re releasing a series of limited edition 7” singles. Thinking back, I’m pretty sure that it was Dead Milkmen who kick started my love of funny punk rock, so it’s safe to say that I have a soft spot for them in my heart. The songs here sound a lot like the stuff from their last full length, but perhaps a little more upbeat. The song “Ronald Reagan Killed the Black Dahlia” treads into classic Milkmen territory. They are doing what they do best and that makes me happy. –ty (Dead Milkmen, milkmen@deadmilkmen.com, deadmilkmen.com)


DEAD MILKMEN:
Big Words Make the Baby Jesus Cry: 7”
Here we have the second in a series of limited 7”s from legendary comedy punks Dead Milkmen. My review of the first in the series should also be either in these pages or on the website. This single is a little heavy on the message—more than the joking around—but it still works. The Milkmen of now are definitely of a darker humor than days gone past. It really works. Joe Jack Talcum takes over vocal duties on the flip side in a bit of a sad freakout kind of thing. They’re both good songs (all three, if you include the bonus song on the free download that comes with it) and I’ll be looking forward to the next one. –ty (Dead Milkmen, milkmen@deadmilkmen.com, deadmilkmen.com)


DARREN DEICIDE:
Bomb This Joint: 7”
Dull, blues-influenced music from a New York dude with a terrible stage name. –frame (Ever Reviled)


DAN PADILLA:
Sports Fans: LP
It can get as simple as this: I really like J. Wang’s voice and guitar tone. They’re both raspy yet clear, smoky yet unstrained. This is the opposite of a diss: it feels like when you’ve been gone for awhile, a year or two. You roll into town, pull up a barstool, order a beer, swivel around, and a band you really like is loading in. It’s a pleasant surprise. You’re happy that they all look like life hasn’t beaten them; that they’re still playing. They plug in and they’re as good as ever. Noble and luminous, even. You buy the record after the show, take it home, and end up playing it as much as their previous full-lengths, splits, and singles. The difference is that you’re no longer part of a day-to-day, week-in, week-out drinking and partying crew. It’s just you and some friends you occasionally stay in touch with. But the songs; the songs stand by themselves. It’s too easy to take bands like Dan Padilla for granted, but if you’re looking to hear honest, well-crafted, no-false-shine, no full-merch-table, no “DIY-for-now” songs, Sports Fans delivers. Here’s to barstool remembering and newborns entering the world into the arms of caring parents. –todd (Dirt Cult, dirtcultrecords.com)


CRITICAL CONVICTIONS:
Divisions: LP
The first thing that grabbed my attention is the vocals. Maxx sounds like she’s reaching down deep to get this sound. It’s from the gut, slightly abrasive, and tough-as-hell sounding. It really helps in giving their sound a gritty and pissed-off edge. Musically, these guys are straight-ahead hardcore that keeps things at a moderately fast pace. But they smartly stay out of the blinding thrash realm. Instead, playing at the speed they chose allows the songs to have more burn and weight. The guitars are attacked and strangled—at times bleeding distortion—while the drums push everyone along. They have some stop-go parts that come out of nowhere. The definite standout on here is “Man Enough,” pointing out the emotional distance some males display. The song is a quick, sharp burst that blazes a bit faster than the rest. In fact, the whole second side has more urgency and goes for the throat. Just check out “Snitch.” That song is pissed off, and rightfully so. –Matt Average (Critical Convictions, criticalconvictions@gmail.com)


CRIMINAL CODE:
Sacred Hands: 7”
“Sacred Hands” effectively melds hardcore with a deep post-punk undertow, resulting in a tune that is catchy, powerful, and a bit more nuanced than most. The corker here, though, is the flip, “Distressed Dreams,” which churns and bubbles with a bleakness that would warm the darkest death rocker’s heart without sacrificing the adulation of the average punker punter. Monsieur Daryl hepped me to this and damned if he wasn’t right—this be one seriously badass single here. If it ain’t happening already, someone please get a full-length in the works. –jimmy (Inimical)


CONCRETE SOX:
Your Turn, Next and Whoops Sorry Vicar: CD
Concrete Sox was one of the early bands to adopt the “crossover” sound and run with it, embracing the metal influence of bands like Slayer, Metallica, Exodus and so on while retaining the political lyrical bent popular with contemporary U.K. anarcho-punk-influenced bands, and in turn going on to influence a number of other bands. The band, along with Boss Tuneage, have reissued their first two albums (not counting their split with Heresy) with some added live and demo tracks dating roughly around the same time as the albums were originally released. Both sound very much of their time, though the production quality will likely be considered a wee bit raw by today’s standards. As far as crossover goes, they were one of the better of the lot, keeping both the wanking and the song-lengths in check. If you’re a fan of the genre and have yet to hear anything by ‘em, consider these your entry point. –jimmy (Boss Tuneage)


COLOURED BALLS:
Ball Power: LP
A nice thing about the rise of enthusiasm for 1970s Australian rock is the number of gems being unearthed and reissued. Coloured Balls’ Ball Power is an awesome slab of full-on Aussie rock. Although blazing rock guitar drives the album, it has been described repeatedly as proto punk. The vocalist has a raspy delivery. Combined with rowdy backup vocals, the album occasionally veers into predating oi outfits. The Decca Cocksparrer recordings have a rocking feel that comes to mind. If the oi comparison turns you off, the choruses often snap back into power pop sensibilities that are catchy as hell. The album came out around during a time when both AC/DC and The Saints were forming. Ball Power rides a pub rock train right down the middle. –Billups Allen (Sing Sing)


CHRISTIAN DEATH:
Only Theatre of Pain: LP
If you’ve not come across it before, suffice it to say that this is one of the pillars upon which the death rock/goth sound is based. Though the band would go through many incarnations and ultimately end up with two wholly different lineups—one fronted by original vocalist Rozz Williams and another comprised of the remnants of a band called Pompeii 99 that, to keep a long story short, Rozz ultimately lost the Christian Death name to—claiming the right to use the name and releasing a slew of competing albums for a number of years before Rozz committed suicide. All convoluted history aside, this remains their signature release—a heady cauldron of swirling guitars, throbbing bass, pagan rhythms, dour poetry, dark alchemy, and ill-intent, from its bell-peal opening to its closing with the Lord’s Prayer recorded backwards. This touchstone album has been reissued many times and in many formats over the years, this time with the inclusion of an additional single and colored vinyl to make it all the more enticing. –jimmy (Frontier)


CHRIS WOLLARD AND THE SHIP THIEVES:
Canyons: CD/LP
I’m not a Hot Water Music fan. All I know is that Chuck Ragan is one of two singers. The other singer, it turns out, is Chris Wollard. And he has a back-up band called The Ship Thieves. The four of them play rock and roll that’s different from Hot Water Music but still quite enjoyable. Sometimes I hear the Replacements or other ‘80s college rock, and other times it’s just rootsy, southern-influenced rock’n’roll. The ten songs clocking in at thirty-seven minutes include some acoustic and slide guitar, electric piano, and organ, as well as the regular rock instruments. I’ve listened to this album a few dozen times now and it’s still hard for me to put my finger on what it is I like about it. Sometimes, as a reviewer you just want to shout, “IT’S A GOOD ALBUM! JUST BUY IT!” And then hope everyone knows what all your thoughts and feelings are that are included in that exclamation. My point is; the past couple of years I’ve received some albums released by No Idea Records to review and everything I’ve heard I’ve enjoyed or at least could respect. I would add Canyons to both categories. –kurt (No Idea)


CHEMICALS:
For Real, For Life, Forever, or Whatever...: 12” EP
Excellent follow up to their Chemical Livin’ record from a short while back. What you get here is some way fuckin’ wound-up punk rock that a lot of bands try to get down on vinyl and fall miles short. Not so with these here Chemicals. It makes me wonder what they’re like if they can get this hyper energy onto vinyl. They don’t play their instruments, they attack them. Each song is a fast and wild blast, with a bass that runs out of control over the drums and guitars. The vocalist sounds like he’s shredding his last vocal chord and slobbering all over himself. The delivery is convincing as well. You can almost feel the words spit into your face. (If that’s a good thing or not, it’s all up to you.) But you can’t hem and haw over if this record is good or not. It’s a fucking killer! Every song is a ripper and they burrow themselves deep into your mind. You will be singing along to “Daddy’s Home” and “Get Sick” before you know, and definitely before you realize it. This record has a way of bonding with your DNA. –Matt Average (Johnny Cat)


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