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TUNABUNNY:
Minima Moralia and “(Song for my) Solar Sister” b/w “Airport”: LP and 7"
Up until now, I had heard but one song from Tunabunny, “Outer Space Is the Center of the Earth,” but that one song took up the entirety of one side of a 12”. I picked up that record for the band on the other side, Hulaboy. That song was a good spacey, recursive number that was a bit hypnotic. The tracks found here are more in line with more traditional songs. They definitely have an entrancing and hypnotic edge and they retain the spaced-out, breathy female vox, but they also have an undeniable outsider pop catchiness—something I didn’t get in their split 12”. They remind me of Sonic Youth at that band’s most accessible, but I don’t think that they sound like each other. Damn fine music happening here. –Vincent Battilana (HHBTM)


TRUE RADICAL MIRACLE :
Cockroaches: LP
The mere mention of the word cockroach is enough to turn stomachs and conjure up thoughts of discomfort and phobias. I can only speculate that such was the intent of naming an album after a repulsive pest. Musically—it may be a bit hard to imagine—but if there’s anything beautiful about Rudimentary Peni’s Death Church, then these guys definitely see it through a scope shared by noise rock giants Shellac and atmospheric doom pioneers Neurosis. By most people’s accounts, this would definitely qualify as alienating anti-music, due in large part to a very detached vocal style and barely noticeable guitar work. The few who possess the ability to appreciate audible discordance will relish in this. –Juan Espinosa (Iron Lung)


TRMRS:
Sea Things: LP
Behold, the audio from an unholy beach party wherein Eric Von Zipper and his nefarious gang of Ratz sacrifice Annette ‘n’ Frankie to Satan. To celebrate, they eat peyote buttons and sing the hits off the soundtrack to Beach Blanket Bingo backwards whilst clanging on pie tins in a deeeeeep freeway tunnel. –jimmy (Dead Beat)


TOTAL CHAOS:
Battered and Smashed: LP
How’s this for a Fantastic Amazing Trivia Fact: Before this, i’d never heard a Total Chaos record before. I guess they just never really seemed like something i’d be into, plus i was always sort of offended by their name. I mean, isn’t there sort of an unwritten rule of punk band names that, if you use an element of a pre-existing band name, you hafta put your own creative twist on it? Like, i was in a band in the early ‘80s called “Suburban Mutilation,” which isn’t a particularly great name, granted—but still, there were the Suburban Lawns, and a few other Suburban-this’s-and-thats, so “Suburban” was kind of taken as a band name root word—but no one ever used the word “Mutilation” in a band name before, so we put that together with the “Suburban” part and it was kind of acceptable that way. Now, if you take “Chaos” as that same kind of a band name root word that “Suburban” was, there’s been Intensified Chaos, and KAOS, and Kaaos, and Kaos 64, and Chaos U.K. and Chaotic Dischord and who-knows-what-all-else kinds of Chaos in band names, so, to me, “Total Chaos” just doesn’t cut it as far as putting enough of a unique twist on the whole “Chaos” root word to make it an acceptably different variant per our unwritten codes of punk rock handed down through the generations. Quite frankly, “Total Chaos” looks like something that a BBC television producer would tell Vyvyan of the Young Ones to write on the back of his vest, whether he wanted to or not. I’m not sure what that has to do with the record. Anyway, I found the album, on the whole, to be halfway decent. With the exception of a too-slick kick drum sound, i thought the playing and production seemed pretty crisp, with those occasional little melodic street punk guitar noodlings up the neck to keep shit properly perky. I pretty much closed my tab and left the whole U.K. punk thing around 1983, as it seemed like album after album of endless regurgitations of the same thing ((wow, ten more albums that sound just like my Abrasive Wheels album, which already sounds like ten other albums i just got!)), with actual inspiration or innovation long departed for greener pastures; for better or for worse, that era seems to provide substantial inspiration here, with an occasional nod to Discharge-esque poli-minimalism ((“POLITICAL REPRESSION! POLICE STATE! BRUTALITY! POLITICAL REPRESSION! POLICE STATE! BRUTALITY!”)) thrown in for good measure. Lyrically, it’s mainly a guy who knows nothing about politics expressing his rather unoriginal views on politics, which is, to be fair, no great shame in the world of punk rock. I cannot say that this record has rightfully driven me down to the spike and paint store for spikes and paint, but i can say that it beat the spread. BEST SONG: “Delirium” BEST SONG TITLE: “Riot Heart” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: Album cover and innersleeve feature multiple photos of a punk getting his head kicked in by cops. I would have liked to have found out more about the specifics of this incident; perhaps on the next record there could be more time spent disseminating information like “why is the punk getting his head kicked in?” and less time spent thanking big-name bands and exotic foreign countries with whom they are intimate. –norb (Voltage, voltage-shop.com)


TETHAUM:
Hexagram: Cassette
For anyone who, like me, has found themselves twisting on the end of a string dangling from the koan “what’s the sound of a fecal plug forming in the ass of a hibernating bear,” Tethaum now provides us with an answer worthy of scraping off the bottom of one’s boots. This audio dungscape falls somewhere between one of those brainwave meditation devices and a recording of a guy who fell asleep on top of his synthesizer. After only a few minutes of listening to this, I was afloat in a laxative dream where I was synesthetically watching the barely perceptible movement of fog hanging over a belching pond of diarrhea next to an abandoned wooden leg factory. Perhaps I was a date-rape victim of all the magico-esoteric glyphs that make up the artwork of this cassette; I Ching hexagrams and western hermetic symbols that might’ve been scrawled by a waggish Aleister Crowley advertise the fact the people (or person) responsible for this cassette are acquainted with the dark arts and are probably very capable of impressive feats of sorcery. They’re certainly adept at casting narcoleptic spells. I kept waiting for the pulseless dirge to eventually burst into some crushingly industrial-metal doom chord riffage, ala Godflesh or Enemy of the Sun-era Neurosis, but it never happened. Or if it did, then I had obviously dozed off by that point. If there is a point to this murky music-less music, then I guess it’s lost on me. But it’s sure to tickle the gloomy bone of sulky darksiders who like to sip embalming fluid and enjoy preludes to nothing. But be careful, listening to this is likely to give you eye boogers. –Aphid Peewit (Sephirotic)


TEE PEES, THEE:
Self-titled: 7”
“Budget Rock” is a bit of a dicey affair, both for the listener and those who take it on as their style de guerre. So many things can go horribly wrong—sound is either too fucked up/too clean, tunes are too simple/too complicated, dude I could go on all day with this—that it almost seems folly to even try it anymore. Sadly, way too many think that they’re the ones to try to grab the brass ring and earn a place with the likes of Supercharger, The Mummies, The Fingers, and so on. While they don’t quite reach such depths, Thee Tee Pees manage to come pretty danged close to the sweet spot for this stuff. As can be expected, they sound like shit (though not quite shitty enough, ‘cause I can still identify the thump-thump-thump as drums. Ding! One point deducted), the performance meets the requisite rudimentary requirements of the genre and they manage to convey the proper self-deprecating, “Yeah, we suck and we really don’t give a fuck if you like us or not” attitude in thought and deed. All told, they come out on top here, and with “Do the Smog,” they’ve also created a new anthem for those budget rockers who look up at the grey skies of Southern California and think, “Ahh, home.” Will it change your life? Fat chance, but it’ll keep you entertained while you wait for your turn to sell your soul to a job and have a buncha kids you can’t afford. –jimmy (Bachelor)


TACOCAT:
Woman’s Day: 7”
I’ve always told people they sound like a less P.C. Bikini Kill (and not just because their three to one female to male ratio), but this time around they’re a bit more bubblegum, and instead of singing about urinary track infections and wearing leotards on first dates, they’ve turned their attention to controversial (and timely!) subjects like Tonya Harding and psychic cats. All kidding aside, they’re playing my hometown in a few weeks and this new 7” has me thinking that I might just dance my ass off (and I hate to dance). Essential stuff here. –Chris Mason (Minor Bird, minorbirdrecords.blogspot.com)


SWEET EMPIRE:
The Season Needs Torches: CD
Somehow I lucked out and pulled a slew of politically astute poppy punk/hardcore releases out of the bins, and this is one of ‘em—Warped Tour-ready tuneage married to lyrics addressing racism, abortion, Emma Goldman, and so on. Nice to hear the Blink/Sum generation is finally catching on that things are a bit more dire than an inability to refrain from farting, but I still ain’t too hip on listening to them play. –jimmy (Shield)


STATIC RADIO NJ:
We Are All Beasts: LP
After hearing the name tossed around for years without ever checking them out, Static Radio NJ has finally wormed their way into my musical subconscious. And, surprise, surprise, it’s not bad. Lifetime meets Bouncing Souls. I wonder if they put the NJ in their name so that everybody thinks of those two bands first? There’s also that hard to avoid Hot Water Music comparison because the singer kind of sounds like a cleaner Chris Wollard. It’s not so surprising that no one’s ever authoritatively told me to check them out. The record, while solid, is no award winner. I recommend checking them out because my bet is their next record will be even better. –Bryan Static (Kiss Of Death, kissofdeathrecords.com)


STAR FUCKING HIPSTERS:
From the Dumpster to the Grave: CD
There are a lot of elements of this band that I really do like (lyrics, especially), but try as I might, I just can’t get past that annoying “ticka-ticka” ska guitar that sounds like Voodoo Glow Skulls. A band I despise. I have to turn it off when I hear it...I really like all of the artwork in the disc, though. –ty (Fat)


SSSSNAKES / THE SLOW DEATH:
Split: 7”
Ssssnakes: First tune is a catchy bit of straightforward punkin’ out. Second one is based on the standard slow doo-wop/”Heart and Soul” template, with quiet/loud/quiet dynamics and audio clips from Wayne’s World and other flicks. The Slow Death: I really dug the demo they sent in a while back, and what’s here only reinforces my respect for ‘em. They continue to mine punk’s more anthemic wells with tons o’ heart packed into each song to offset the gruff vocals. I love when a band sounds like they’ve put a lot of good work into what they do, and the tunes here have all the earmarks of exactly that happening. –jimmy (Kiss Of Death)


SS20 / FAN ZUI XIA FA:
Split: 7”
A pretty great international split 7” here. SS20 from Germany kick it off with some bludgeoning hardcore. The music is fantastic, but the vocals get a bit too much of that guttural growl going for my liking. Not terrible by any means, but they do pale in comparison to Fàn Zuì Xiă Fă from Malaysia. These guys hit the ground running at breakneck speed and don’t stop ‘til the end of the record! Fast, spazzy hardcore punk. Just how I like it. It was also pretty great that all the lyrics were printed in German, English, and an Asian language (I’m sorry. I can’t tell exactly what it is). Great record! –ty (WWL)


SPOOKY, THE:
Halloween Night: 7”
Horror punk is a slippery slope. On one side of the seesaw is the original Glenn-Danzig-lead Misfits, Dance with Me TSOL, some Damned, some Siouxie. On the other side of the seesaw is an ocean of horror punk bands (including new Misfits, Balzac, Damnation, post bleach blonde skating AFI.) There are several hurdles to clear. 1.) There’s probably makeup/costumes/hair product/props involved. (See Spinal Tap when the pods don’t open.) 2.) No happy songs (unless there’s joy in sadism, being a predator, that type of thing). 3.) The template’s already been made like a plaster cast over a broken arm. Break that cast and horror punk fans get confused. The Spooky know exactly what they’re doing and they do it well. Mike Monster has a thick voice and a nice range. He can actually sing and croon, which is a big boost. The Embalmer and Stain aren’t slouches at their respective instruments, either. My only quibble is that the lyrics are really dumb. Not bad. –todd (Hostage)


SPITS, THE:
V: LP
The Spits have added another slab of driving, Ramones-laced punk to their canon. “All I Want” kicks the record off with a solid singalong that rivals the band’s best material. The rest of the record is solid. “Fed Up” contains stickier melodies about giving up. The song ends abruptly. Ha. The album is short and sweet with only two of the songs breaking the two-minute mark. Thankfully, The Spits never give up. –Billups Allen (In the Red)


SOFY MAJOR / MEMBRANE:
Split: CD
Four songs from Sofy Major and three from Membrane, totaling thirty-six minutes of French hardcore. Sofy Major: Imagine if Baroness was always “on,” if they never had a mellow song, and growled a lot more in their vocals. Imagine that sludgy, stoner rock feel with more grit and perhaps throw in some Torche. That’s pretty much what you have with Sofy Major. I didn’t dislike it by any means, but it didn’t really do a lot to impress me, either. I’d rather listen to Baroness for the breadth of sound instead of everything being hot all the time. Membrane: This band, on the other hand, did impress me. Reminiscent of Unsane or the Melvins, it was heavy and dark and didn’t let up one bit. All three of their songs sounded as though the world was going to end once you finished the track. Slow, sludgy (twice in one review!), discordant hardcore metal—not something I would want to listen to a lot, but for three songs, it provided the perfect dose. –kurt (Impure Muzik / Bigoüt / Finatas / Basement Apes Industries / Prototype)


SLOBS:
Self-titled: EP
Fuggin’ love this record—rough and dirty hardcore punk with a definite nod to early ‘80s East Coast style. The singer sounds like a cross between Darby Crash and the singer from The Mad. Really growly, a little nasally, and obnoxious in a perfect way. The guitars are distorted and jangly at the same time and cut like a razor. One thing that really stands out about this band is the quality of the lyrics. Not some nihilistic pose (“Not so much a nihilist / Just another kid who’s pissed”) that is adapted and briefly paraded about like so many bands do. Instead, there’s some real honesty in the words and thoughts put across. Nothing deep or profound, but issues and things everyone with a brain can relate to, such as “Hope for Nothing” with the opening verse, “Hope’s the word they use to keep us all in our places / It lets them collectively rub their shit in our faces,” articulates something that has been on my mind for years, especially once you get past the illusion of the American Dream. Plus, they deliver this song in a mid-tempo, near lazy and despairing way to really get the point across. Then you have “Write Offs,” which succinctly states, “They sold our future to pay for their today.” Whoa! I’d say this record is mandatory. –Matt Average (Machette, machetterecords.com)


SLAKTRENS :
Stalande Tider: CD
Raging hardcore punk from this Swedish duo. Take DS-13, put a couple drops of Mob 47 in the beaker, and you may get some mutation like Slaktrens. It’s fast and chaotic, with bone-breaking percussion and a vocalist who sounds like he’s going rabid. The songs are short bursts of aggression that aim to break the speed barrier every time. However, they are not some faceless, tuneless thrash outfit. They switch up the tempos, throw in some stop-go breaks here and there, build tension, and play like their very lives depend on it. What’s really interesting is this was entirely put together by two people in a practice room, despite it sounding like a full band recording live. Oh, the wonders of technology! “Jag Vill Inte Ha” is a burner that slows down a tad and stands out. Glad I grabbed this! Thrash hounds, dig in! –Matt Average (Suburban White Trash, suburbanwhitetrashrecords.com)


SINGING DOGS:
Deja-Voodoo Blues: 10”
The ten-inch is the dumbest standard vinyl format and the two-piece is the dumbest standard band format. This is a ten-inch recording of a two-piece band. Do the math. Two-piece bands that come out of the punk scene ((or something tangent to it)) usually seem like they’re favored by guitarists who imagine themselves to have much more of a psychic mandate to publicly explore the blues idiom than they actually have; without anything but a lone guitar, drums, and some vocals to hold my attention, said attention usually gets shanghaied right quick. Note how much things perk up when the band tosses some vaguely “Sympathy for the Devil”-esque guitar overdubs in “Whisky & Blues!” Case in point, Magoo! I can say no more because, as described elsewhere this issue, i live in fear of voodoo reprisal. Pass the chicken. BEST SONG: “Whisky & Blues” BEST SONG TITLE: “Sick of Being Sick,” which is not the Damned song. FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: Last time i checked, a ten-inch record cost more to press than a twelve-inch. –norb (Primitive)


SHELLSHAG:
Fuck Society, Vol. 1: LP
As one may predict, the husband/wife duo known as Shellshag have an intimate relationship with music. This may seem all to obvious, ‘cause when I think of Shellshag, I think of music and intimacy: two powerful, distinctive personas singing songs to each other while everyone crowds around and enjoys the collateral affection. On Fuck Society, Vol. 1, they blaze through thirteen covers of songs that hold a dear spot in their hearts. Finishing up the record is the title track “Fuck Society”—the only song that’s not played by Shellshag—performed by Chattanooga’s AK77. If you’ve ever caught Shellshag, chances are you’ve seen them cover at least one of these songs, bringing life to old memories,and igniting the audience with their integrity and candor. A covers LP can be a hard sell, but if you can’t trust Shellshag, who can you trust? Features covers by Shotwell, Inxs, The Undertones, Warsaw, Hickey, Liz Phair, Archers Of Loaf, URTC, When In Rome, Descendents, Fleshies, Wipers, and The Jam. –Daryl Gussin (Mauled By Tigers)


SHARP OBJECTS:
Self-titled: LP

SHARP OBJECTS: Self-titled: LP

 

 

I know I have become a bit of a fanboy for all things Modern Action, but I am unapologetic. Especially with bands like Sharp Objects leading the pack. This here is a slab of punk rock perfection: driving beach punk riffs and catchy words. “Whoa-ohs” and “hey hey heys” in the right places. Short and to the point, I just keep playing this one over and over. And it keeps getting better! Now, if I could see them on a bill with Night Birds, I could die happy! –ty (Modern Action)


SHANG-A-LANG:
Waiting for the End: 7”EP
Fuck you, funeral. Fuck you, wake. Fuck you, death. Fuck you, swan song. Goodbye Shang-A-Lang. Never liked your charming, shambolic, honest, inclusive music anyway. I never thought you were the musical equivalent to a T-shirt that lasts for years and years and fits better with every wear. Fuck you, Shang-a-Lang. Las Cruces punk rock gets its collective face tear tattooed at the passing of one of its defining bands. I’ve got the feeling that we’ll be lacing on happy shoes soon, as these guys are too insuppressible to give up on playing music… Oh, hello Low Culture. You played Ben Snakepit’s wedding? Rad. Want to go in on a twelver with me? –todd (Dirt Cult plus five other labels)


SEVEN SISTERS OF SLEEP / CHILDREN OF GOD:
Split: LP
This is a good pairing of two heavy hardcore bands with similar styles that are able to hold their own. Seven Sisters Of Sleep are heavy with vaguely melodic guitar lines that push themselves up in the mix at the right times. They remind me of Scandinavian crust with a heavier sludge/doom slant to it. Children Of God thrash much harder, but their sound is equally bleak. The sludgy parts sound like old Iron Monkey, and their raging still has crust edge to it. I listened to this a few times while writing this review, and was impressed with how many new things I noticed about each band when I went back to their sides several times. Definitely a recommended listen. –Ian Wise (A389)


SENSITIVE SIDE, THE:
Moon Kids: 7” EP
There’s a bit of a punky feel to their new wave here, which, in and of itself, ain’t a bad way to start, but the addition of someone playing what sounds like an organ (you never can quite tell these days) gives this an added ‘60s feel, making for a bit of a unique take on a couple of templates that have gotten more attention in recent decades than they did when they first came into existence. Tunes are quite good ‘n’ I’m betting these guys go over like gangbusters live. –jimmy (VD)


SENDERS:
Lucidity/Lividity: LP
You know how Hot Water Music bands play slow for dramatic affect, like they’re struggling to bash out each chord and rasp into the mic? Well, what if they beefed up the guitars until those slow parts sounded like stoner rock? And, what if they kept the emo guitar flourishes so that they sounded like mid-’90s indie/hardcore bands like Sunny Day Real Estate of Engine Kid? It comes together really well thanks to a huge guitar sound, a super tight drummer, and catchy, concise songs. Thank you punks for taking a few things that were lying around the yard and making something new and cool. It’s alchemy! –CT Terry (Kiss Of Death)


SECRET PROSTITUTES / TALK SICK BRATS:
Split: 7”
Secret Prostitutes are mysterious. My understanding is that it’s two Texans and a Malaysian (the titles are Malay, at least) drummer/singer, singing in his native tongue. Weirdly, it sounds like 1977-’79 Scandinavian Killed By Death punk. Think Lama. I’m predisposed to love this; your DNA may differ, depending on how much obscure-punk-record-collector blood cells flow through your veins. The drill’s familiar: limited pressings, hard-to-find release, internet dudes relish in making fun of other people for not having this, and eBay sales will follow. I didn’t break the seal/sticker at the top that listed the band names, but sliced through the bottom of the bag, as to preserve the “provenance.” (Thanks, Antiques Roadshow.) As your financial advisor, this stock will go up. Talk Sick Brats: Pretty good. Get the feeling that there’s some previous deep appreciation for Discharge, but it’s pegging on the trash/glitter/rock/The Ends side of the meter. Not bad at all. –todd (Batshit, batshitrecords.com)


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