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MOUTH SEWN SHUT:
2009: LP
If you are in a hardcore band and you are considering adding reggae to your repertoire (or even considering it as an influence) you need to ask yourself a question: “Are we the Bad Brains?” If you are the Bad Brains, proceed, just not too much. If you are not the Bad Brains, stop right there. You aren’t the Bad Brains, and will thus inevitably fuck this up. Just stay hardcore. Unfortunately, no one in Mouth Sewn Shut asked themselves this question, and they have several really laughably bad attempts at reggae on this LP. The non-reggae songs are relatively decent crusty hardcore about the usual crusty hardcore subjects. The singer sounds like Barney Greenway a little bit, so extra points for that. But seriously, cut the reggae. –Ryan Horky (Rodent Popsicle)


MOTHER’S CHILDREN:
That’s Who!: LP
Hey current Ottawa punk rock scene: you’ve done it yet again. About a year ago there were like a thousand new bands in this town, most of them good, if not great. Inevitably, some of them turned out to be summer romances or slightly longer flings, but others stuck—long-term polygamous relationships based on boozing, power-pop, biking, hardcore, and pizza. I consider myself incredibly lucky to be part of a community that continues to flourish and gain recognition, and one of Ottawa’s best exports, Mother’s Children, have just churned out one hell of an LP for Deranged Records. As first evidenced on last year’s Dance to the Rock N Roll Band EP on Going Gaga, these four fellows (whose current and previous affiliations include Year Zero, Million Dollar Marxists, the Sick Fits, Cloven Hoofs, and a handful of others) have the goods required to pen some of the most memorable power-pop-rock-n-roll songs this side of the first Any Trouble LP, infused with a proto-punk/glam snottiness and energy that sets them well apart from the legions of copycats currently huddling under the power pop banner. It’s easy to shrug this kinda stuff off these days, but regardless of musical preference, give this a spin and a good listen. You won’t regret it. –Dave Williams (Deranged)


MODERN ACTION:
“Modern Action” b/w “Bleeding Red”: 7”
If you can put an exact scientific quantifier as to why bands like this ((whatever “like this” means)) sound immediately identifiable as being from southern California and nowhere but, i’d like to get my hands on your data. I can only guess that their mothers were frightened by the “Somebody Got Their Head Kicked In” comp LP whilst they were in the womb, because this band sounds so much like the bands on that record that if i were to go and look at the album cover today, i’d only be half-agog if i saw a Pushead character wearing a Modern Action t-shirt staring back outta the mosh pit at me. Snappy melodies and eighth-note cymbal rhythms aside, somebody might wish to take these lads aside and inform them that a chorus consisting solely of your band’s name repeated twenty times in a row ((the phrase “Modern Action” is uttered sixty-four times total in the song)) is rarely considered a particularly sterling bulwark of creativity. Then again, i’m always up for anything that makes me feel like it’s summer/fall ‘82 again, so thanks for that, if nothing else. BEST SONG: “Modern Action” BEST SONG TITLE: “Modern Action” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: “Modern Action” –norb (Modern Action)


MIND SPIDERS:
4-song EP: 7"
Mark Ryan is probably most well known for being in the Marked Men, and is undoubtedly a large part of that band’s fascinating chemical reaction. He’s also been a long runner in the you-should-check-them-out High Tension Wires and was a one-time Riverboat Gamblers guitarist. This collection of four songs showcases a slightly less frenetic Mark, peeling apart songs, letting them spool out, and then drenching them in an almost wet layer of sonics. Sick with hooks and natural-sounding (for some reason, I keep picturing highly polished wood grain), there’s a sheen to these songs (which Mark recorded himself, I believe), but it’s there to highlight and bring out some lustrous, subtle textures that’d be lost if the production was mindlessly scuffed, forced, and agitated “to be more ‘punk’.” Great stuff. –todd (Dirtnap)


MCRACKINS:
Live from Thunderbird Radio Hell: CD
I’d heard of this band a while back, but never checked them out, on account that they’d compared themselves to J Church, which got a “Yeah, right” eye roll from me. But, if Nardwuar speaks that highly of someone, I’ll give them another shot. Apparently, this is a live session from CiTR, with a bunch of covers thrown in. Musically, it’s pretty—fast pop punk from guys who can clearly play the hell out of their instruments always wins with me. I only have two—or really one-and-a-half—complaints: First, the shtick (they dress up like two eggs and a dog). As someone who’s been in not one, but multiple shtick bands, I don’t hate it, but, in this case, it gets pointed out again and again. It’s such a crazy idea, that I think it’d make me laugh to no end if it was just never pointed out (would the Coneheads have worked if everyone they met immediately said, “Dude, what’s with your heads?”), aside from the occasional “cracking under pressure,” etc. metaphor. But that leads me to my other complaint, which is that there’s a shit ton of goofy-as-hell banter. Again, I love me some funny banter, but a lot of it’s just so self-deprecating (again, love that too), that I just want to say “You guys can play the hell out of those songs. Just OWN it already.” –joe (Killer)


MISERY INDEX:
Heirs to Thievery: CD
Coming on the heels of their amazing album Traitors, Misery Index arrives with their eleven-song, thirty-four minute long album, Heirs to Thievery. Frankly, trying to top their last work was probably asking too much. The grind metal stylings proved to be almost catchy at times on Traitors, so the question had to be asked: which direction would the band go this time? Would it be into something with more of a groove or perhaps mixing more hardcore elements? Well, the band hasn’t done either. Instead, they went the total opposite direction and actually got heavier and more brutal. This is a full-on grind album with copious amounts of blast beats to prove it. But somewhere along the way they lost me. The production is better, sure, but any hooks (yes, there can be hooks, even in grind metal) seem to have been abandoned in favor of punishing the listener with aggressive guitars that don’t let up. While that may sound good to many fans of grind—and metal in general—there’s something that just doesn’t resonate with me like Traitors did. There’s nothing for me to latch onto and yell along with, although there does seem to still be some good political lyrics coming from these guys. In the end, Heirs to Thievery seems to be lacking the breakdowns and hooks. Instead, what you get is a pummeling barrage of music that leaves you impressed but indifferent. –kurt (Relapse)


MIND SPIDERS:
World Destroyed: 7”
Another cool band that I got to see in Texas and I picked up the record. Well, by seeing them, I was wedged in the doorway of a sweltering record store on a very hot Austin afternoon with a lot of beer to keep me sane. Come to think of it, I actually couldn’t see them, but it sounded great. Mind Spiders are like a slightly slowed down Marked Men with a hefty dose of Beach Boys or Ronnettes and a little Pixies thrown into the mix. The Marked Men reference makes sense, as the leader of this unit is Mark Ryan of Marked Men. A little fuzz and keyboards are thrown in to give it a few more layers and it all makes for a fun, relaxing, and downright enjoyable record. Can’t wait for more. –ty (Dirtnap)


MASAOKA, CHEN, GRÜSEL, NAGAI:
Self-titled: CD
Listening to what is essentially improvised music recorded the first time the four performers got together, one’s opinion of such will probably fall into one of two categories: 1) these people are friggin’ geniuses, 2) these people are friggin’ kooks. While this reviewer can appreciate the thought process behind the latter, he finds himself leaning a bit more towards the former. It’s no small feat to sit down with three other people and create something interesting to listen to, let alone pull it wholly out of thin air, and keep it consistently interesting for well over an hour. Utilizing traditional Japanese instruments, voices, a cello, and “electronics” they create soundscapes that vacillate between “music” and full-on aural assaults. It’s often within the context of a single piece—quiet, contemplative koto and/or cello passages coupled with electronic slurps, blurps, and blurts, scraping strings, and slide into avalanche of noise. This is decidedly not something to plop on the ol’ hi-fi during yer next barbecue—though that’s exactly what I’m a-gonna do, being the sadistic bastard I am—but definitely worth the trouble if you’re in the mood to experience, rather than merely consume, some music that resides well off the beaten path. –jimmy (Resipiscent)


MANDROIDS:
First Fabulous Issue: 7” EP
Beats me, it’s kinda hard to imagine why a band would call themselves “The Mandroids” and then not title their record “BEHOLD THE MANDROIDS!” like the story in Avengers #94 which first introduced the Mandroids. It’s even harder to understand why they would sing a song about those perpetual enemies of S.H.I.E.L.D., Hydra ((“Fail Hydra”)), then title a song “Them!” and have said song NOT be about those other perpetual enemies of S.H.I.E.L.D., A.I.M. ((Advanced Idea Mechanics)), who were initially called “Them!” in the issues of Tales of Suspense in which they made their debut. These seven songs span the gamut of the human topical experience—covering both comic books AND plastic bags—even venturing into politics, after a fashion ((“Don’t Vote”))—but i somehow get the feeling that if these guys were ever tapped to play the band in the surely-soon-to-be major motion picture The Adrenalin O.D. Story, there’d probably be some griping amongst the AOD faithful. BEST SONG: “Don’t Vote” BEST SONG TITLE: “Fail Hydra” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: Wikipedia once had Hydra’s debut erroneously listed as being in Strange Tales #134—it was none other than the present author who corrected it to Strange Tales #135. –norb (Mandroids)


LUMBER LUNG:
Demo 2010: CD
A five-song demo from a Santa Barbara band that reminds me of the most artiest and no wave portions of the Dischord Records catalog. Female lead vocals with a shouted secondary male counterpoint makes for some interesting interactions. However, I could see the occasionally tuneless lead vocals getting to be a bit grating upon repeated listenings. The songs themselves are above average and equal parts epic, melancholy, and chaotic. –Jake Shut (Self-released)


LOVELY LADS:
The Best You’ve Got: CD
Released nearly five years back, this brutal release of Boston hardcore-influenced oi is a barrel of fun for the wax head in your life. It’s remarkably campy, bouncy punk that’s one part newish oi, one part 1980s hardcore tribute. The very simple recording suits the aesthetic well. There are some truly remarkable off-key backing vocals that are some of the finest specimens of their type. If alien scientists land on earth to examine discordant punk harmonizing, Lovely Lads will be in their first dozen or so Petri dishes. Now go Nair your head and have some fun. –Art Ettinger (Eating Rats, eatingrats.com)


LOGNHALSMOTTAGNINGEN:
Fina Nyanser I Nya Finanser: 7”EP
Huh. Weird. Totally Killed By Death, obscuro, tinny, rushed, snotty, “sounds like the early ‘80s” recording of what reasonably could have been a contemporary of Swedish punk/hardcore in line with Ebba Grön or Missbrukarna. But, with some poking around, it’s a dude from Flagstaff, Arizona collaborating with a Swede from Göteborg. They formed the songs by phone then made a recording. It almost seems like a hoax or a fun transnational project. You pick. It may be both. The title? It translates into “Subtle Shading in New Finances.” The band name? “Liar Entertainment.” –todd (Local Cross)


LIBYANS:
“Paralyzed: One-sided 7”
Without a doubt these are my favorite songs since their debut Welcome to the Neighborhood EP, and I would consider myself a fan of everything in between. The Libyans have this knack for tapping into the geekiest aspects of arty record packaging and the most fist-pumping, captivating aspects of hardcore punk. These are the kinds of records that make you believe in the fountain of youth. Cracking the seal and plopping this record on can make you feel like you don’t know shit and you wanna learn everything. –Daryl Gussin (Self-released, thelibyans@gmail.com)


LEGENDARY SHACK SHAKERS:
Agri-Dustrial: CD
The sonic equivalent of taking a wild ride through the Appalachian mountains with someone hopped up on some serious uppers and channeling the ghosts of the Reverend Horton Heat, Cesar Rosas, and Top Jimmy And The Rhythm Pigs. The production is almost too clean, given the grungy hillbilly-fueled mania the band puts down, but they quite aptly turn heads, and whoever’s blowin’ harp for ‘em is seriously hot shit. –jimmy (Colonel Knowledge)


LAST LAUGH:
Disarray: CD-R
Only two of these eight songs make it past the one-minute mark. Think Gloom Records, 625, Nate Wilson’s wildly pessimistic reviews, vocals belched into garbage cans. Think of the Reagan SS/ John Brown’s Army split 7”, blank CD-Rs and Xeroxed inserts. Think shit-tons of youthful exuberance and pixilated splatter fonts. Frayed as hell and totally furious and over before you know it. –keith (Last Laugh)


INTEGRITY:
The Blackest Curse: CD
It’s been some time that I’ve been waiting for this album. What I consider the last proper Integrity album, the absolute masterpiece Seasons in the Size of Days, was released in 1997, and while Integrity 2000, To Die For, various 7”s and reissues (and scores of lesser bands paying homage) did well enough to partially fill the void left in their recurring absence, not until now have we been graced with a fully realized Integrity release. At this point, it’s far too early to determine where The Blackest Curse stands among Integrity’s previous LPs, but it’s very safe to say that I am far from disappointed. There is a particular vibe that culminated with Seasons that I felt was lacking in each release between it and this new one. A bleakness and desperation that was absolutely oozing from Seasons, Tomorrow, and Humanity (and to a somewhat lesser extent Systems), but brothers and sisters… that darkness is back. There is a completeness to The Blackest Curse, a continuation and a realization of a dark, twisted vision and heavy, evil sound that Dwid and company essentially brought to the genre with that first LP some twenty-two years ago. Whether a starting point for new listeners or, like myself, an indescribably welcome return to form, The Blackest Curse is on par with Integrity’s finest hours and has quite possibly set the bar unreachably high for “hardcore record of the year”… or decade… or millennium. Fucking incredible. –Dave Williams (Deathwish)


INSTINCT OF SURVIVAL:
North of Nowhere…: LP
I’ve been a bit of a burnout lately listening to crust. At least the crust records I personally own. I do really like to go see it live, though. But when I get something new that is well done, it gets me re-interested again. This band hailing from Germany does all the right things in my book. Really strong production to support their Deviated Instinct meets Amebix with death metal undertones mania. Really riveting guitar riffs pierce through the mix, backed by sold bass and drum interplay. Vocals that aren’t too guttural finish their bleak painting of life. The band really toes the line between punk and metal. They have the musicianship and songwriting ability to cross over that line and play just metal, depending on the genre. Overall, the metal in me really enjoys what is being heard and the punk side is satisfied that it’s on the same team. The record nerd underbelly in me loves the gatefold and the super cool purple and black swirled vinyl! –don (World Funeral)


INJ/SYS:
Spoken Word: 7”EP
INJ/SYS, I guess, is shorthand for Injustice System. What I am certain of, however, is that this record is pretty damn good. Blazing early ‘80s style East Coast hardcore in the vein of Antidote, Abused (both bands get the cover treatment here), YDI, etc. Raw, bare bones, no frills. Just a loud and blistering guitar sound, thrashing drums, and some low end to keep it all together. The vocals are yelled and delivered with some snarl, desperation, and urgency. This is the sort of stuff I think about when I think of what a good hardcore band is supposed to sound like. Fast, distorted, and pissed off are a few of the qualities I look for, and these folks have ‘em in spades. Listen to the very last tracks, “A Colony Civilized,” with its fast and reckless approach, then capped off with the short “No Words.” Then go back and listen to the rest of the record. Can we expect more from these guys? Only three hundred were pressed, so jump on it! –Matt Average (No Reprieve, noreprieve.bigcartel.com)


INDEPENDENT PROGRESS:
Anthems of Truth: CD
On one hand, I can understand how Anthems of Truth could be considered relatively standard fare, maybe even a smidge generic. They bring to mind some of the bands on the recently defunct PunkCore label or maybe even the gruffer, earlier material in the Dropkick Murphys catalog: streetpunk with a smidge of ska thrown into the mix. Gravel-packed vocals and lots of gang backups. On first listen, it didn’t come across as terribly memorable. On the other hand, there are moments where Independent Progress really shines—and it’s buried there in repetition, in giving it another shot. The biggest detriment to the streetpunk genre has always been the dipshit thug/gang mentality, how it’s often lyrically tantamount to a bunch of fucking bullies running around with guitars. Thankfully, none of that is present here. Honestly, the lyrics here are top-notch; well-spoken and articulate stuff that’s terrific on its own and absolutely jaw-dropping for the genre. It’s that intelligence, coupled with the fact that these dudes sound like they’re having a blast playing these songs, that carries this thing forward. The wheel isn’t necessarily being reinvented here, but that’s not really necessary. This is more than a passing nod—at least to this listener—to bands like the Strike and the Beltones, and that’s good enough for me. Genuine stuff. –keith (Independent Progress)


IMPERIAL CAN:
Hey Fuckers: CD
This band is an electric punk combo featuring Chris Clavin from Ghost Mice. I mostly mention this because I’m not a big fan of Ghost Mice, which tends to sound too “precious” for me, but I like this band pretty alright. It’s real raggedy pop punk like Crimpshrine, but with a high-pitched singer and endearingly thumpy drums. Most of the stuff on here has a pretty distinct DIY punk message, with the exception of “Rabb-napping,” which is in that too-cutesy Ghost Mice vein. There are a couple of lines in this album that really make me go “Huh?” though. Specifically in “New Wave,” where in reference to what’s wrong with punks today, “It’s not worth the risk to steal things, the pizzas they eat come by delivery.” Getting a pizza delivered may be the most strident definition of what selling-out is. I mean, living by shoplifting is great if you’re doing it at Wal-Mart and only have some really low maintenance needs for yourself, but beyond that, I think that system of pseudo-off-the-grid living breaks down real quick like. It’s the kind of almost painfully myopic thinking that I think causes a lot of crusties and such to not really be taken all that seriously. Propagandhi and Fugazi talk a big game, but they also seem relatable and living in the real world. It’s not that these bands, and others like them (Fifteen and both Subhumans come to mind), are about compromising the shit out of everything, but they do recognize that everything is not always so cut and dry. I dunno if I can say the same for this band. It seems a lot of this line of severe “leeching off the system, but not in any way admitting to being a part of the system” thinking only really works for someone who lives in an anarchist wonderland where interconnectedness and consequences are non-existent outside of bike and vegetable co-ops. Then again, maybe I’m just being defensive and cynical, because indeed I have (gasp!) partaken in non-dumpstered pizza. I still approve of this album though. –Adrian (Plan-It-X)


ICE NINE:
Nobody’s Son: EP
One of those “wha?!” moments. Didn’t know these guys were playing music again. If I remember correctly, they did a split with Charles Bronson. Ice Nine originally existed in the 1990s and were a definite product of that time. The songs are super technical, loud and noisy, disjointed, and, ultimately, tuneless, which is the downfall of any band like this. Not one song on this record is memorable. Too much time is spent noodling with time changes, running up and down the fret board, and a vocalist who is looking for power and brutality in screaming and growling as loud as possible. A lot is going on and nothing is focused. A few listens gets tedious. –Matt Average (Prank)


I’M DIET:
This Hammer Destroys Ignorance: Mini-CD
Bad grindcore sounds like rocks in a blender and the Cookie Monster yelling at you like he just stubbed his toe. Good grindcore sounds like bones in a blender, pulverized to a dust that your not-smart friends would snort like a line of coke. I’m Diet—four mystery-shrouded longtime L.A. punks—is good grindcore. They clock in two Descendents covers, totaling seven seconds. Comes in an origami package designed by a rocket scientist. –todd (Self-released)


HUNX AND HIS PUNX:
Gay Singles: Cassette
What if ‘60s girl groups like the Crystals and the Ronnettes were cross dressers and had Johnny Ramone write all their songs? Aside from the timeframes being completely out of whack, you’d pretty much end up with Hunx And His Punx. Their sound isn’t anything incredibly original but the catchiness of the tunes is where the hook meets the mouth. Song themes are mostly about cute boys and heartbreak. Or cute boys and the hearts they break. This was originally released by True Panther Sounds on CD and LP and is great for the tape deck in your car but if you come across it, get the LP for the gratuitous nude picture of our boy Hunx in all his full-frontal glory. –Juan Espinosa (Burger)


HAUNTED GEORGE:
American Crow: CD
Hanging from the Halloween garage musical tree of Screaming Jay Hawkins, The Cramps, the early Misfits, the Blowtops—not to mention George’s old band, The Necessary Evils, is the powerhouse Haunted George. With a mule’s saddle of full-length albums and 7’s behind him as a one-man band, I expected a fun record but, frankly, I also expected more of the same. I do love the pedal echoes of the Born Bad vibe, garage rock stomp that somehow makes perfect sense with horror movie memorabilia and pulpy westerns. Just that this is a deep rut that bands can fall in after one good record and end up going in circles. But I was wrong, pardner. Surprisingly fresh, this album kicks ass, real Deadwood shit. While this is firmly in George’s usual ramblin’ style, it feels advanced from earlier records, lots of good, ominous speed and pluckyness mixing in with the thundering herd. I got excited by each song. The way a gunfighter keeps shooting those cans off the fence, getting tighter. Necessary Evil Jimmy Hole now plays with George, which may add to the change in style while taking away the lovability of the loner one-man band. Alas, I do believe the line that George is living and recording out in the Mohave. –mike (In The Red)


HARLAN T. BOBO:
Sucker: CD
“Songs mostly written while courting an adventurous woman. France, Spain, Madagascar, New York, Memphis, Netherlands. The courtship was a success.” As an ‘80s punk rock kid, I pretty much disdained folk, emo, whiny CTV country, emo-folk, and new country. That was until I first heard Hank Williams and Leonard Cohen. They made me realize you can be a singer-songwriter and not be a complete douchebag in boots. The usual labels of country and folk didn’t really apply. Americana is the closest word that makes sense. They didn’t write and sing in order to get chicks, they wrote songs to try to understand people, themselves included. They never put on a fake look to fit into what was popular. Sometimes it’s poetic, other times pissed off. Sometimes it’s just funny. Harlan T. Bobo embodies the same vibe. He could be singing in Memphis, or at a New York bar, in a Paris café, or on a street corner in Nogales, and always sound at home, pure and from the heart. –mike (Goner)


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