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Record Reviews

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Below are some recently posted reviews.

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CHEATER SLICKS:
Reality Is a Grape: LP
This is my first Cheater Slicks purchase. I’m not proud of that but I have to admit it up front. I knew I’d like ‘em, I mean, c’mon, they have an album called Hate You. In the spirit of full disclosure, I was at a show they headlined and left before they played! In my defense, it was Gonerfest; I’d seen a million bands and had been drinking all day and all night. Because of this, I have restricted myself from day drinking during festivals. Anyway… I’d heard of the Slicks back in the late ‘90s but could never find their records, used or new (that’s a true testament to a band, never seeing their shit in a used bin!). I never was a vinyl-only purist, but something inside me said Cheater Slicks needed to be owned on LP. I’ve passed up chances to buy some albums on CD over the years, a testament to vinyl-only purchasing being silly. Here I am, newest Slicks on the turntable, and I’m glad I did it! I feel better, like getting over the flu or a fever breaking. To describe the sound? Barely controlled chaos. To describe the subject matter? Something between hate and disappointment with where life can take a person. The Slicks have been more active in the past three or four years than the three or four years prior to that. I don’t know if it’s because my living in the Midwest is making me pay more attention to shows within several hours’ drive or what. I hope to see ‘em soon. –Sal Lucci (Columbus Discount)


CHARLIE TWEDDLE:
The Midnite Plowboy: LP
This is an excellent record with great songwriting, very much in the Texas troubadour tradition. Hearing hints of everything from classic honky tonk to early Guy Clark and even a little Doug Sahm in the mix, all elements that are right up my sidewalk. I will admit to being skeptical about a “country” singer from Santa Cruz, CA on a record label out of Brooklyn, NY but this is a fantastic record and could not come more highly recommended. –frame (Mighty Mouth Music)


CELLOS:
Bomb Shelter: LP
A sweet ‘n’ mellow mix of Unsane-style skronk rock and more artier fare. By the end, you feel like you’ve been trying to kill one mutha of a hangover with a power saw/boric acid highball and, yep, that’s a good thing. –jimmy (Dead Beat)


CARGO CULT / TEXAS BISCUIT BOMBS:
The Two Headed Cobra: Split 2 x LP
Randy “Biscuit” Turner’s death was a bit of a shock, not just to friends and family, but to generations of fans enamored with the bands he fronted, starting with legendary skate-punk-funkers Big Boys, and his singular visual arts work. What’s collected here is more like a multi-headed hydra’s worth of stuff to keep all interested parties happy: two twelve-inch colored-vinyl slabs crammed with the demos for a never-realized second Cargo Cult album and some rehearsal and live recordings of his last band, Texas Biscuit Bombs, wherein they cover songs from Biscuit’s extensive back catalog as well as ZZ Top (their take on “I Heard It on the X” just plain smokes) and Spencer Davis Group; a special-cut, screened cover featuring some of his art; a download card and a bunch of high quality reproductions of assorted gig flyers stuffed in with the lot. Clearly a labor of love from the packaging to the music contained, this serves as a nice exclamation point to the life of one of punk’s true treasures. –jimmy (Modern City)


BLITZ:
Voice of a Generation: LP
Here’s a good place to state why Razorcake doesn’t take the bait of capitalizing the “o” and putting an exclamation point after the “i” in the word oi. (“Oi!” in English, is like saying “Hey!” in American. “Hey! Music” sounds horribly stupid.) Oi! was a marketing term, musical make believe, coined by writer Garry Bushell. He made such other music terms as “Skunx.” (Skins + punx. Get it? Lars did.) The problem with tags is that when they go out of style, most bands tied to the mast of the particular label sink. Pretty much everyone except one or two bands gets fucked, except the industry that feeds off of broken dreams, unfulfilled promises, and short-term memories. (See: grunge, powerviolence, emo, bandana thrash.) I don’t know where you sit with New Mills, Derbyshire, England’s Blitz, but I’ll say that they put out one of the finest full-lengths of the early ‘80s. This one. Voice of a Generation. It’s punk. No need to tart it up, capitalize it, and add an exclamation point. It stands on it its own just fine in the thirty years since it was first released. This reissue sounds great, is from the Czech Republic, comes with a glossy fold-out poster, and was pressed on Pirate’s Press. It’s nice to have it readily available at a reasonable price instead of some bad “live” recording on shady “European pressing” vinyl. –todd (PHR, phr.cz)


BLACKMONDAYS:
Self-titled: 7”
Four-song single from this band who sound a lot like a more British Zolar X and a little like the Spits in the backing tracks. –frame (White Zoo)


BLACK WIDOWS:
Revenge of the Black Widows: CD
Another slab o’ all-instrumental rockin’ for yer earholes from these cats. They still mine a host of different styles—borderline-metal, rock, surfy stuff, funk, even a smidge of psychedelia—and keep things interesting by maintaining all wankery potential at minimums and the songs brief but excellently executed. –jimmy (Vital Gesture)


BIRTHDAY SUITS:
“Wonderland America” b/w “Sepia Yeah / Kiki Kaikai”: 7"
The Birthday Suits, a duo of Japanese guys located in Minnesota (Hideo’s ex-Sweet Jap), are like an explosion of origami: Tight, precise aural folds. Paper’s just not paper any more. It’s got volume, mass, shape. Ducks and swans and shit. Sound’s not just sound any more: distortion/melody, noise/silence. Stop/fucking go! Buckminster Fuller and Stockhausen would be proud. Art makes sense to me when it’s loud as shit, sounds like it’s crashing through the front of the house, and then hands me a cup of noodles. Oh, my pretty face. Totally hits the spot. –todd (Asian Man)


BIG EYES / MEAN JEANS:
Split: 7”
Big Eyes: Confidence trumps style. Style is bought and sold. Confidence is earned. Big Eyes are getting gnarly: stomping, thick, badass. Kate’s time spent with Nato Coles and Amos Pitsch was well served. Like Lemmy, when she plays, she’s a nine-foot-tall lion. Mean Jeans: Piping in processed foods (Velveeta) over The Martian Chronicles (totally worth re-reading), and splashed with infinity-speed Coors Light, the Mean Jeans are fucking zero-gravity effortless. As much as interpretive dance about grant funding sucks, the Mean Jeans rule. If Rock’n’roll High School was a real place, the Mean Jeans’ got diplomas and are still happily working in the cafeteria. Shityeah. Originals and one cover of one another’s band. Pretty perfect. –todd (Dirtnap, Dirtnaprecs.com)


BIG DIPPER:
Crashes on the Platinum Planet: CD
Must confess that, though I’ve known of their existence for quite some time, I don’t think I’ve ever actually heard Big Dipper—and if I have, I have no recollection of the experience whatsoever. This is their back-in-the-saddle release since reforming in 2007, its predecessor dating back to 1990, and I gotta say, it’s both a throwback and a hoot of a listen. In an era when pop songs are created by cabals more interested in marketability and maximizing profits than “art,” this is some dandy pure-strain alt-pop. The quality of the work is evident, starting with the fact that each of the twelve songs sounds different from the next (jeez, what a novel concept!); that it features performances that shimmer with sincerity and is rife with creative hooks; and is not ProTooled into faceless corporate compliance. All of this culminates in a release that might sound stylistically dated to modern audiences weaned on paint-by-numbers former Mouseketeers preening to template-tunes, but nonetheless harkens back in all the best ways to a time when there was an actual “alternative” and creativity wasn’t something to be avoided and/or killed off at all costs. This is wholly recommended—smart pop for folks who don’t mind some singularity and personality in their musical selections. –jimmy (Almost Ready, almostreadyrecords.com)


BETTY MACHETE & THE ANGRY COUGARS:
Self-titled: 7”
Killer trash punk out of Ohio. Two songs that bash by you before you even know what hit you. When Betty says she “Don’t wanna live no more,” you fucking believe it. The bass sound on the intro to “Book of Hate” sounds so familiar. Yep, that’s Matt Reber of the New Bomb Turks on bass. This two-song taste has me sweating for more. –ty (Dull-Fi)


ASTRO FANG:
“Flesh Hand” b/w “I.C.U”: 7”
Two tracks of noisy, oddball stuff that fluctuates between herky-jerky punk and skronk throughout both. Songs are a bit on the long side, but they’re nonetheless effective. –jimmy (Rad Girlfriend, radgirlfriendrecords.com)


ASTRAL TRAVEL:
Bodymelt: 7” single
Excellent, excellent single. So good I really want to hear a full album from this group. Post-punk that sounds like no one else. Their sound is dark, jumpy, and slightly morose at times. The guitar has that Cure Pornography sound, where it’s a bit ghosty and strangely warm at the same time. It really sets the mood. The bass hums vibrantly underneath. The vocals weave in and out with a playful feel that stands in contrast to the darkness of the music. I get the sense Astral Travel looked back to bands in the early ‘80s for inspiration, but have created something happening in the here and now. The title track is awesome. The flip is of the same quality—and a little lighter in sound—which enables both tracks to stand strongly on their own. Don’t pass this up. –Matt Average (Vertex, vertexaudio@gmail.com)


ASILE:
Kichesippi Toxique: LP
Not quite what you would expect. Going from the cover art, you would maybe think this was some uninspired generic crust punk. Nothing could be further from the truth. Easily one of the best crust albums I’ve heard in many, many years. For starters, Asile are not typical of the genre. They bring in their own style and create something that lifts the genre up. They’re definitely heavy and fast, but there’s something here that’s different. They’re more on the hardcore punk end instead of the metal that many go for. The vocals are not the usual guttural burp or Neanderthal growling. Instead, you can hear everything Patrick is saying, even with his quick delivery. The music itself—they have the heavy and fast thing down, but it’s not a dull blur. They shift tempos, have catchy riffs, and write some really interesting stuff. “Illusions” is a great example. It follows on the tail of complete crushers, shifting slightly down in speed, but not hindering the energy of this record at all. Also, I’d like to point out the guitar in the chorus of “Ferma La Télé” and how it puts a different mood in the song. Amongst all the thrashing and bashing, it gives the song a bit of reflection. Plus, the insane drumming in “La Maudite Guerre” is awesome. So fast, and crazy; it will knock you on your ass. Then there’s “Surveillance” which is like Motörhead on crank. I wager that this is one of the best records you will hear all year. –Matt Average (Rust And Machine, rustandmachine.com, rustandmachine@gmail.com)


APPALACHIAN TERROR UNIT:
It’s Far from Fucking Over: CD
Unabashed “humans are cancerous parasites” crust punk here, falling soundly between Bread And Water and the more melodic leanings of Antiproduct. This contains their first 7” and the Greenwashing LP, as well as a bonus track. Pretty ferocious stuff, with a nice tradeoff between the male and female vocalists. I appreciate that the band’s used their huge booklet to include lyrics and explanations to their songs. The genre’s a little played out for me personally, but I don’t doubt ATU’s sincerity for a moment, and no one’s gonna say that they can’t play their instruments. If you’re into Profane Existence stuff, this one’ll do just fine. –keith (Profane Existence)


ANCHORS:
Lost at the Bottom of the World: CD
The evolution of metal-core is a mystery I don’t think I’ll ever solve. It went from Cro-Mags breakdowns, basketball jerseys, and windbreaker pants to crew cuts, skinny jeans, and melodies galore. One thing I know I’ll never be able to figure out is where the element of danger went. I don’t need to know much about this band to know that they more than likely are from the suburbs, have money (studio time ain’t cheap!), and that they openly embrace iphones (fair use: it’s in their thanks list). All that comfort and privilege equates to nothing more than safety and is anything but threatening. The roots of hardcore have always been punk—whether anyone involved wants to admit it or not—and, quite frankly, there’s nothing punk about any of those qualities. It’s a shame to think that maybe, just maybe, I could be into this because when the bright spots really shine, this sounds like a very potent blend of Sick Of It All, Good Riddance, and All (Chad Price era). When the haze settles, however, all I see is forty five dollar hoodies, bouncers at the door/stage, and kids texting before, during, and after the show as they drive home in their parent’s Audi. –Juan Espinosa (Creator Destructor, creator-destructor.com)


ADOLESCENTS:
Self-titled: LP
Was hanging out at Headline Records (thee prime place to satisfy all your punk rock needs, by the by [I’ll be expecting my payola check in the mail, John]) the other day and found myself and the shop’s owner spending a good amount of time trying to convince a younger kid that the Minor Threat record with their first two EPs on it was a sound purchase. The whole time, I’m thinkin’, “Why are we having to work so hard to convince this little mocoso that goddamned Minor Threat—specifically the very release I did the happy dance over when I found it in Lovell’s Records’ racks back in 1983-84 after spending an ungodly amount of time and effort looking for anything by ‘em—is worthy of his (probably short) attention span?” At that precise second, I realized that another of those so-called “generation gap” moments had just hit me square in the fuggin’ forehead. I’d gone through this previously, sometime in the mid-’90s, when I ran into some spiky-coiffed nincompoops who were all for the punk du jour band at the time but had neither clue nor interest who TSOL were. No, in neither case did I scream “POSEUR!” and proceed to steal their boots/creepers/Chucks. I instead tried to hep ‘em to what I thought was a touchstone band, and one that had a serious impact on my when I was of similar age, without sounding like the old curmudgeon punker asshole I probably sound like right about now. What’s the point to this long-winded diatribe, you ask? Suffice to say that, given recent events, I feel it imperative to direct what follows to the potential handful of folks who may not have come across this album before: forget whether or not you like punk, if you have at least one working ear, YOU NEED TO OWN A COPY THIS ALBUM. This is one of those albums that is a clarion call for all that is good, and right, and wonderful about punk rock, two twelve-inch sides of pure perfection that has changed lives, fueled whole swaths of a certain social movement, and has enjoyed a phenomenal thirty-year influence on an inordinate amount of bands, including a few you probably have heard before. What’s it sound like? Like tens of thousands of kids giving the finger to what their world expects them to be. It’s dark, funny, angry, seeping with teenage angst/frustration/alienation, blahdeeblahdeeblah, backed by some of the choicest punk/hardcore you’re ever gonna hear—fast, slow, melodic, still frighteningly topical, and stuffed to the gills with hooks that will haunt you for the rest of your life. Frontier’s honcho Lisa Fancher has not only made it danged easy to procure a copy by keeping it available for at least the bulk of the thirty years since it was initially released, she’s now added the incentive of colored vinyl to further sweeten the deal. I appeal to your good sense not as an overly opinionated windbag, but as a fellow music worshipper within whose life this very album has served as a soundtrack and stress with every fiber of my being: this, dear heart, is about as worthwhile a purchase as you’re ever going to make. I know I’ve said it before, and I hope my track record is good enough that you’ll listen when I say: trust me, and if you don’t, I’m sure the folks at Headline (shirts, books, patches, and a fine selection of tuneage for purchase [still waitin’ on that check, John]) and danged near anywhere else you can find a copy will concur. While yer at it, I suggest you also buy bigger speakers, ‘cause, as you’ll soon find out, you’ll need ‘em to play this bad boy as loud as possible ‘n’ share the love. Go. NOW. –jimmy (Frontier)


2 LEFT SHOES:
The Zombie EP and Self-titled: 7” EP
Primitive garage and (what sounds like) 4-track quality recordings of a Seattle punk band circa the early ‘90s. Sound is expectedly raw across both EPs. –jimmy (2 Left Shoes, twoleftshoes@ymail.com)


FASTER HOUSECAT:
Self-titled: 4-song CDEP
Here’s to hoping they forge their own identity on future releases because this sounds like the skinny alley of exactly who they like and little else. This band features former members of Rivethead, OWTH, and Tiltwheel. (Past members of OWTH and Tiltwheel could fill a parking lot at this point. No weight on that, just an observation.) Total conjecture on the band formation: “Hey, I love the Riverdales, Screeching Weasel, and The Copyrights!” “So do I!” “Me, too!” “And some Teenage Bottlerocket!” Unfortunately, they put nothing new on the table and all the other bands’ records are readily and abundantly available. –todd (Self-released, fasterhousecat.bandcamp.com)


SKURKARNA:
A Crimewave Escapade: CD
Skurkarna are a Swedish band who play instrumental surf but with a much more modern feel, as if they might listen to a bit of Explosions In The Sky or something of that sort, yet, it’s still definitely surf rock. The whole theme of the band is crime. Band members are drawn on the cover as cartoon cat burglars breaking into a house and hitting a cop with a blackjack. All their songs have titles like “The Stick-Up” or “The Getaway Car” and throughout the album are perfectly placed soundbites from old noir and bank robber movies. I like everything about the music and aesthetic. It’s a great album that’s totally ruined by one thing, this warning: “all rights of the manufacturer and the owner of the recording work reserved... unauthorized public performance, broadcasting and copying of this record is prohibited” is written prominently on the disc. I just can’t get behind that, not because I don’t respect the way they feel about copying, it’s just that it fucks up the whole damn illusion. It’s like if Gwar said, “We don’t promote the slaughter of humanity” in their liner notes as a disclaimer. Perfectly good album shot to hell for me by some butt-clenched bullshit. Besides their CD appears to be a CD-R with no jewel case or liner notes, just a one-sided paper insert in a plastic sleeve. Fucking posers. –Craven (Heptown)


RICKY C. QUARTET:
Small Species: 7"
Both No Front Teeth and their partner-in-release this time out, Rapid Pulse, are known for a consistently high level of quality in their chosen punk niche, and this is no exception. The self-described “antipodean”-influenced punk this London-based band specializes in is spot-on, latching onto a groove steeped in the primal glory of antecedents like The Victims and Psycho Surgeons and just milking it for all the rock it’s worth. Two tunes, both worth a spin. –jimmy (No Front Teeth)


NO///SÉ:
Self-Titled: LP
Hard-driving and tuneful modern day punk type of racket here. Once they get started, the songs whip by, one after the other, sometimes melting into one another, with this barreling tempo that does not let up until the stylus runs off the final groove on the second side. I really like how the bass and drums propel everything forward and the guitars just seem to hang on for the ride. The gravelly bellow of the vocals works well and conveys a strong sense of urgency throughout. They have some songs with sing-a-long qualities, but don’t dive into the whole bro mentality that’s rampant these days. Songs like “Blank Slate,” “Sick About It,” and “We Did Everything Wrong” cook. These guys would be perfect on a bill with bands like Canadian Rifle and the Red Dons. –Matt Average (Rotten To The Core, rtcrecords.com)


NATURAL LAW:
Find the Flock: LP
Dunno where these cats hail from, but I’m hearing a strong DC hardcore influence here—maybe a bit of Minor Threat and a whole lotta early Faith. Songs are nicely varied tempo-wise, well put together and executed, and reverent without succumbing to rehash. –jimmy (Deranged)


FURLOUGHS:
Self-Titled: 7"
Pressed on recycled marble vinyl with cool paper bag packaging, this 7” is very catchy, with Dillinger Four serving as a main influence. Don’t let the overly slick production fool you as this isn’t a wannabe commercial endeavor at all. Five young kids sounding tighter and better than their aging counterparts is nothing to fear. I like the song title “National Insecurity.” It’s clever, much like the songwriting. Can I get a furlough to go to see The Furloughs, please? –Art Ettinger (Vehement, vehementrecords.com)


CHIMIKS:
Modern Storm: LP
This album conveniently and forcefully answers a number of pressing musical questions which had cut into my sleeping over the course of the last few decades, ergo and to wit: “What would Greg Ginn’s early ‘90s solo albums have sounded like if he liked garage, was half his age, and didn’t care if the drums kept speeding up?”, “What would Los Ass-Draggers have sounded like if they weren’t obsessed with the concept of playing really, really fast?” and “What would the Statics have sounded like if they were kinda mean?” This album does not conveniently and forcefully answer the question of what the cover art depicting a wispy, spooky skull cloud hovering over a electric substation has to do with anything however. Either way, i got hearing damage after just the first side. Nicely played. BEST SONG: “Hole of the Black Kids” BEST SONG TITLE: I cannot tell a lie. “Hole of the Black Kids” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: I decided the cover art reminds me of the original art of Scream’s “Still Screaming” album. Bet you didn’t see THAT one coming. –norb (Frantic City/Barbarella Club, franticcity.free.fr)


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