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Below are some recently posted reviews.

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Self-titled: LP
Nice to hear that there’s still some good ol’ Celtic Frost worship running through hardcore’s rotten underworld. I thought this band’s debut 7” was pretty decent, but this is a hell of a step up—raging metal punk that fills the mind with visions of ancient Scandinavian evils. I’m going to assume that these fellas are no strangers to the Gehenna catalog, and they’re probably pretty psyched on the Triptykon stuff too. Rad. –Dave Williams (A389)

Kill Yourself…Again: CD
It’s a curious thing why certain bands—even those with genuine talent and the best of intentions—wind up doing pratfalls through the cracks in history and landing in punk’s dustbin of forgotten souls. The curious case of the Lewd is a prime example of just such a band. Surprisingly, even having one of their songs covered by Turbonegro couldn’t seem to save them from the brink of oblivion. Maybe memories of the Lewd still sit sacrosanct like manger scenes in the minds of older punks in and around the San Francisco area, but here in the midriff of the country, the Lewd is mostly just a name passingly referenced in those-were-the-days Punk Histories. And that’s just plain not right. The early Lewd (circa ‘78) had a scummy, crotch-rottish larval punk sound somewhat similar to the Dead Boys and giving off a seamy aural odor not unlike a can of molting night crawlers. The early ‘80s phase Lewd, featuring the late Olga de Volga on bass, vocals, and leather porn suits, took on a more hardcore sound, shifting their malodorous garbage truck of sonic filth into a speedier realm of reckless abandon, comparable to DOA in the Hardcore ‘81 days. In both modes the Lewd proved up to the task of bringing the classic sounding punk that you immediately sense was Frankensteined-togther in seedy basements with stale cigarette smoke, spilled beers, and fruit flies. Lyrically, things occasionally get ham-fisted to the point where the punk-by-numbers wordsmithery strains between near-rhymes and “shock value” so much that you can feel your coccyx twitch with a flutter of embarrassment. But this was some thirty years ago. This was back when the neonate anti-art art form was first sprouting snot-filled lungs and pulling itself out of the primordial slop swamp of vapid ‘70s AOR/arena rock with spindly little arms that hadn’t so long before been swaying fins in the current of mediocrity. So I can cut the Lewd all sorts of slack for a cheesy lyric here and there. There weren’t many T.S. Eliot types involved with the punk scene back in those days and—let’s be honest—there aren’t many around now either. I guess now we have bigshot Broadway musical Andrew Lloyd Weber types—like that Green Day guy, for instance—but I’ll take J. Sats Beret’s lyrical output any day over Billy Joe Cyrus or whatever his name is. Kill Yourself…Again is just plain solid old school trash punk and, to quote Baron Von Raschke, that’s all the people need to know. I’m not sure just why this lost gem is suddenly back in circulation again, but I’m not going to pick the nits out of a gift horse’s mouth or however the saying goes. The Bottom Line Good News: shoveling out large piles of cash for a rare collector’s copy is no longer your only option. But get one while you can. You never know when it will disappear again. –Aphid Peewit (Self-released)

Self-titled: 7”
This record contains a solid load of beer-throwing, overdriven guitar punk. The recordings are from 2000: a righteous offering featuring members of The Oblivians and The Neckbones. Great for fans of either. Among the covers on the album is a drunken “Wild About You” by The Saints. Sloppy rock at its best. –Billups Allen (Goner)

Making Paper Roses: LP
The biggest thing from Kalamazoo since either Violent Apathy or the Killamazoo Derby Darlins, the Legendary Wings took their name from a video game, are fond of substantially unappealing (and presumably ironic?) romantic imagery on their record covers, and sound like a cross between the lanky stoned garage pop songwriterly genius of the Bare Wires and the indisputably insistent rhythm section of the White Wires, which begs the question of why they didn’t just call a spade a spade and name the band “The Crossed Wires,” or, at bare minimum, “The Legendary Wires” ((to say nothing of an obligatory “12XU” reference, time permitting)). If you can get past the faceless roses/chocolates/doilies cover art, the payoff is sixteen reasonably socko garage pop rockers, with harmony and sincerity trading lines with bashing and stupidity with disorienting frequency. At sixteen songs and forty-seven minutes, this opus is probably a bit too sprawling to serve as a concise statement of Pop Genius or anything, but the songs are good and i can alternate bites of dainty white chocolates with mouthfuls of Little Caesar’s® pizza to it. None can ask fairer than that. BEST SONG: “Pure” BEST SONG TITLE: “Spacehead” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: A full eighth of the song titles hereon contain the word “dumb,” but a good three-sixteenths contain references to nachos, cartoons, or the sun. –norb (Dirtnap, dirtnaprecs.com)

Heartbreaker: 7”
Yet another obscure band gets the reissue treatment, but in this case it’s more than warranted and welcomed. Title track is a driving, fan-fucking-tastic bit of punk/rock with a bit of synth dropped in at strategic points. The flip, “Action,” has cleaner channel guitars and is maybe a hair slower than the other tune, but the delivery is just as tight. –jimmy (Last Laugh)

People Like Us in a Pretty Pink World: CD
If you like fairly crappy punk rock, you should get this CD. If you don’t, then you shouldn’t. Nothing really stands out among the ten songs here. It is noted that this CD was recorded in Norway. So I’m assuming these guys are European, unless the Norway thing is merely coincidental. –Nighthawk (October Party, October_Party_Records@hotmail.com)

The Last Time I Did Acid I Went Insane & Other Favorites: LP
First released in 2001, this re-issue of Acid is its first vinyl pressing. To recap, Lewis has illustrated album covers for Moldy Peaches, published articles, and lectured at universities. His anti-folk punk, lo-fi brand of tunes mixes Neil Young with Beck’s ironic lyrics. Both laugh-out-loud irresistible and vulnerable, Lewis can fall into that love him or leave him category. His laundry list of unfortunate endings wrought in acoustic guitar includes the classic, “The Chelsea Hotel Oral Sex Song.” If you haven’t heard this painfully sweet ode to a girl he ran into briefly outside that famous hotel, you ought to. Some say his woe-is-me shtick becomes grating, but for me, his disheveled blues are like a salve. Recommended. –Kristen K (Don Giovanni, dongiovannirecords.com)

Recognize: CD
Formulaic, punk-derived rock’n’roll that has a paint-by-numbers feel. The band looks like they’ve copped a look and a sound for the sake of cashing in on said look and sound. After all, the record was simultaneously released on iTunes, which makes me very cautious. In the end, the record is okay, but it feels like I’ve heard all these songs before. In one case, it’s literal: “The Secret” starts of with a line about sharp knees and holes in jeans that has been blatantly pilfered from Boris the Sprinkler’s “(Do You Wanna) Grilled Cheese.” It’s not just the words (which are same, in both syntax and spelling)—the actual intonation and rhythm of the delivery is exactly the same as the Boris song. (The rip-off ends there, I presume because this band believes the notion of Schrödinger’s cat not to be rock’n’roll enough and therefore of little worth.) And J.D. and the F.D.C.’s give no credit to my fellow Green Bay ne’er-do-wells for what they’ve “borrowed”! Just how am I to respect this record now? Formulaic and plagiaristic—it’s like when I read the same goddamn freshman comp paper over and over from different students… Of course, if Nørb somehow had a hand in the provenance of “The Secret” and I’m just ignorant, I detract the entire review except for the stuff about being formulaic. That stands. –The Lord Kveldulfr (Derelict)

Skinhead Glory: 7” EP
To say I’ve mixed feelings about this release would be a bit of an understatement. What you have here is a vinyl reissue of what is arguably the first U.S. oi release originally put out in 1982 jointly by Dischord and the band’s Skinflint Records. As with much involving the skinhead subculture, this release was not without some controversy, particularly with the song “Psycho Skin,” which was allegedly inspired by some of the members’ extracurricular activities, including assaulting unsuspecting homosexuals. Probably not eager to rehash said controversy, the offending track has been replaced here with an outtake from the same session, “Criminal Minds.” On the one hand, it’s great to see this reissued in its original medium, and the desire to avoid having to explain that song yet again, and avoid the often savagely puritanical ire of the punk community is totally understandable, and lord knows I’m no fan or defender of anyone who thinks it’s fun to beat up on anybody—gay, straight, mauve, oddly tall, or whatever. On the other hand, self-censoring by fiddling with the track order of a record that, warts and all, went on to influence a helluva lot of bands seems a bit disingenuous. Ah, fuck it, those who’ll find this interesting will dig it nonetheless, and fuck nitpicky bastards like me. –jimmy (TKO)

Miséria E Fome: 7” EP
Outside of knowing they existed, I gotta admit I know jack diddly about this band. This is what I was able to scare up: Inocentes were one of Sao Paolo’s earliest punk/hardcore groups, and contemporaries of Olho Seco and Cólera. This is a reissue of their debut EP, originally unleashed in 1983 and later expanded into a full-length in 1988. Outside of a mid-tempo opener, you get for your buck some prime Brazilian hardcore not unlike those more celebrated groups, with thrashing tempos and menacing vocals. Fine release for both the collector geek and the punker lookin’ for something worth a spin. –jimmy (Spicoli Discos, myspace.com/spicolidiscos)

Pop Secret: 7” EP
If, as has been postulated by others elsewhere, the Dickies were an offshoot of power pop sensations The Quick, Impo & The Tents are apparently trying to make that regressive connection back on Leonard and Stan’s behalf. These Swedes have that Dickies undertow down pat, applying it to some tight-as-nails, frighteningly pogo-perfect pop ditties that should make Hufsteter and company beam with pride. ‘Scuse me while I flip it over for another spin ‘n’ bounce off the walls. –jimmy (Impo & the Tents, impoandthetents@gmail.com)

Bill Murray Tapes: 7”
This isn’t noise rock or noisy hardcore. This is just noise, a genre which rarely seems to fare well in this fanzine, but I found it rather intriguing. Both sides are quite similar, each has the long, ambient, droning feedback of two or three indiscernible instruments. It’s layered. On the top of the track is a shrill, harsh, squeal (but not unbearable or ear-piercing for the sake of ear-piercing), it repeats itself as an underlying layer, a sort of melodic drone plays out underneath. It’s oddly pleasant, the two work together to put you into a sort of comforting spell. At times it almost sounds intentional—rather than improvised—noise, giving off the womblike, druggy, downy feel of a My Bloody Valentine or Medicine song. I’ve always respected noise more than I cared to listen to it, so I’m surprised how many times I’ve played this. My only complaint is the project’s name, I Want To Kill Every Human. Its superfluous nihilism conforms to the out-of-touch, I’m-being-bad aesthetics of the noise scene and poorly represents a starkly exquisite couple of tunes. –Craven (Self-released)

Manic Recession: 7”
I’ve had this record for a day and it’s almost worn out already. City Mouse renewed my love for pop punk. The band just hits the bull’s-eye with lyrics that offer so much beyond what’s at surface level, together with a willingness to drive the music forward and not linger, forcing you instead to go back and listen again. It never gets bouncy or jangly or annoying even when “whoa-oh”-ing. Also, does Cristy Road from the Homewreckers sound like a grown up version of Angelica from Rugrats? –mp (Mooster)

Self-titled: 7”
This Las Vegas four-piece band has put out three songs that didn’t get onto their album The Sea, but could have with no problem. These three songs are in the vein of progressive hardcore, punk, and a tiny bit of reggae mixed in. They kind of remind me of a time when more bands mixed things up a bit back in the old days, when people experimented a bit more in the punk styles. These guys are pretty good, not something that I would throw on all the time, but they will be in my rotation to listen to. I am interested in where they will go on their next release. Should be interesting. My copy came on cool split color vinyl, yellow and white. –Guest Contributor (GC, gcrecords.com)

“Lost Dogs” + “P.O. Box”: Flexi
Part of the Rotten Tooth Summer Series of flexies with super duper silk screening both on the cover and the thin wax, this is a breezy two-songer. This Heavy Times appetizer has them at my favorite. They mix both the don’t-fuck-with-us-burl of Sabbath with the fuzzy-static melody of The Jesus And Mary Chain. It’s badassery that you roll down the window and shout along to while intimidating minivans and laughing at poseurs in yet another line to purchase their mass-marketed individuality. The rusty plow digs in the dirt. A golden scythe is held aloft. Blood and honey drip muddy from the blades. Nice. –todd (Rotted Tooth, rottedtoothrecordings.com)

Self-titled: 2 x LP
The Guns were an early hardcore band not only noteworthy for offering up two smoking tracks on The New Hope compilation, Cleveland’s answer to Flex Your Head and This Is Boston, Not L.A., but also because at the time of those recordings it was a two-member band and neither of them were yet old enough for high school. With the addition of bassist Sean Saley, the band recorded a full-length showcasing a band that was tight and able to work well at making a creative niche for themselves within hardcore’s often rigid template. It was originally offered to Enigma, but ultimately ended up being shelved, though it did end up being unceremoniously bootlegged as part of another band’s release to fill space. Lineup changes that included a guitarist capable of playing leads, slight stylistic changes in direction, breakups, and the later deaths of both original members within the span of a decade seemed sure to leave the band in the “could’ve been” pages of punk history with little more than an unreleased album, a smattering of comp tracks, and a later full-length “reunion” album. Released by Tom Dark (brother of original member Scott Eakin) and the folks at Smog Veil, this seeks to rectify the dearth of material available from the band by unleashing a double-LP set that includes forty-three tracks comprised of the unreleased album, comp tracks, outtakes, demo tracks, rehearsal recordings, a radio session, and assorted live recordings covering the band’s career, plus some great liner notes from Saley and Dark to give some historical perspective. The sound varies from studio to boombox quality, the latter of which might be a bit raw for those accustomed to modern sonic fidelity standards, but none so bad that they are unlistenable. A definite must for both historians and fans of the genre, this is a fine showcase and a fitting attempt to give propers to a band quite deserving. –jimmy (Smog Veil)

Dale & The Careeners: CD
Is it a surprise that I don’t think about the Grabass Charlestons all that much anymore? Seven years since the release of their last LP finally brings us the third Grabass Charlestons full length and, boy, is it different. The growl and harshness of the previous records has been turned down and the Replacements influence turned way, way up. All of this might have been abled by the addition of a fourth Charleston, who seems to have taken over drumming duties from Will. If you are a fan of previous Grabass albums, I would suggest you check this out, but be warned about the potential shock value of what’s to come. If you’ve never dug the Charlestons before, I’d recommend giving this one a listen. As songwriters, I don’t think the band has ever come close to some of the songs on this record. –Bryan Static (No Idea, noidearecords.com)

Dale & the Careeners: LP
Where to start? I’ve been a fan of Grabass since the Billy Reese Peters split LP in 2002. I celebrate their entire catalog; I’ve reviewed their entire oeuvre. They were on the cover of Razorcake #17. I have the story of Replay being arrested in Texas on the fourth of July memorized and I tell it to kids during library readings. Razorcake Records put out a Sister Series 7” of theirs. I took the photo of the painting for their side of the TTK split LP. Bias? You fucking bet. They’re my friends and that friendship was first started because their music struck a deep chord in me. My bias is this: I think they’re woefully underrated. (Your guess is as good as mine as to why. Maybe it’s the name. Maybe it’s because we live in a classist, image-conscience, artifice-saturated, lead-by-the-nose culture (even in punk. Especially in punk.)) So instead of complaining, I’m a facilitator when the opportunities arise. I was not expecting Dale & the Careeners, didn’t see it coming, and that makes me happy. Because, at this stage in the game—living adult lives as human beings who happen to not be able to divorce themselves from punk rock and dealing with music—I want contemporaries who aren’t regurgitating their own expelled fluids. I want people who are musically much smarter than me showing that uniforms can dissolve, that others’ expectations are gravestones waiting for inscription, that suburban cul-de-sacs of the mind can become bike lanes, that aging and collapse aren’t one in the same. Dale & the Careeners does all of that as a record. Lyrically, it’s complex. It takes multiple voices (first, second, and third person) and acts as a prism that looks at addiction, safety, impulse (and a baseball game). It’s poetic and direct. To put this in a bit of context, think of folks like Todd Congelliere, Isaac Reyes, Isaac Thotz, and Mark Ryan—all people who were/are in dynamite bands that have broken music wide open in the past couple of years in an almost absolute vacuum beyond their immediate families, friends, and close peers. On a cultural level, it’s so fucking bittersweet to be a front row listener to their world-class bands. I feel like simultaneously laughing and crying; getting fucked up and remaining cold sober; shaking my head and shaking my fist. If meaning still has meaning for you, I highly recommend Dale & the Careeners. Soak in it like the sea. Let it crash around you. Let it hypnotize you like waves. –todd (No Idea)

What’s Left to Let Go: CD
I don’t understand the current proliferation of bands with a melodic post-hardcore-y sound and screamed vocals calling themselves “hardcore” bands. The U.K.’s Goodtime Boys are one of the better-sounding of this crop of bands. What’s Left to Let Go is a double EP worth of the band’s material on one CD. Their music is at times aggressive, and at others mellow and subdued, retaining a melodic element even at its most spastic. I wanted more of the spastic aggressive parts, as they felt like they were too few and far between the subdued riffing and drumming over which vocalist Alexander Pennie screams and speaks his introspective lyrics. The lyrics are generally well written, but Pennie’s vocal delivery, combined with the frequently subdued vibe on this didn’t do much for me. The big exception to this was “Wake/Daylight” whose extended intro builds to a frantic crescendo before ripping into the song proper. From there things do mellow a bit, but they pick up once more and build to the end, like a wave crashing in upon shore. I think if there had been more tracks like this, and the follow-up, “Harrow,” I might have enjoyed this better. It’s an album done in a style that doesn’t really excite me, but it’s done well enough for me to appreciate it. I can’t call it a goodtime, but I can call it an okaytime. –Paul J. Comeau (Bridge Nine)

Rodney: 7”
Bland female-fronted power pop with trite lyrics about boys. Dull. –Craven (Self-released)

Live in Kelowna: 7”
This record shouldn’t even be possible. The factors involved fly in the face of logic. A small Canadian town in the early days of punk rock’s transformation to hardcore, a concert held in a public park booked by a fourteen-year-old punk rocker, the same fourteen-year-olds resolve to hold the city to the contract when they tried to cancel it upon discovering that it was a “punk rock concert” and then the fact that someone bothered to think “We should record this” amongst the hail of threats and beer bottles from the audience. Well, all those things happened and the result (albeit thirty years later) is this record. Four of the five songs here were recorded at the above mentioned show in 1981, complete with verbal abuse from the crowd between tracks. The last song is a live track from a hall show in 1982. The sleeve warns that the sound quality is “more horror than music,” but I was left in awe of the dark alchemy Dave Eck worked. It sounds every bit as vital as a punk record in 1981 should sound. I heard there is a GOH “complete recordings” type of release coming soon. I can’t wait. –ty (Punk Records, punkrecords.com)

Sair de Mim: 7” EP
These Brazilian noisemongers fall somewhere in that spacious void between hardcore and garage punk, with loud, clanging guitars and tons of reverb. There’s maybe a smidge of artiness in there, giving things a different spin as well. Good stuff. –jimmy (Spicoli Discos, myspace.com/spicolidiscos)

Punk Rock: LP
I didn’t know this record was such a commodity! I knew it had to be good because both The Raunch Hands and The Exploding Hearts covered F.U.2 (“Mean Evil Child” and “Sniffin’ Glue,” respectively.) Originally released in 1977 then bootlegged to hell, finally seeing a legit rerelease thanks to 1-2-3-4 Go! Updated liner notes dispel rumors that F.U.2 was a joke band done up on a drunken whim. F.U.2 was made up of members of The Downliners Sect, who had some extra songs that didn’t quite match their typical R&B/beat style. Not quite pub rock and not quite raw punk. Maybe a combo of both, filtered through competent musicians? Worth your time. –Sal Lucci (1-2-3-4 Go!)

Paranoia and Regret: LP
Fuck yes! The opening licks hinted towards a bit of Born Against influence, which I’m all for, but suddenly the speed dial gets turned up to the likes of which BA never cared to reach. Mixed into the equation are some great gruff vocals (ala Jack Control) and an awesome concoction of Scandi-core and Northwest depression influence (think Wipers’ “Over the Edge” and you’re getting warmer). In their thanks list, they mention people who have helped them on tour, which elates me to no end; the possibility, no matter how remote, of being able to see a great, newly discovered band is what makes punk rock worthwhile to me. This record is fucking awesome, through and through. –Juan Espinosa (Inimical, inimical.com)

Outgoing Rockers: 7”
At first look, this 7” looks like it could be by a ‘60s garage punk band. Nice screened cover, custom inner sleeve printed with the label’s logo… I sure as hell wasn’t expecting the scrappy punk that hit my ears. I think it might have just been the recording style, but I kept thinking about The Shitty Limits. That is a good thing. I’m definitely going to be on the lookout for more. –ty (Reel Time)

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