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Record Reviews

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Below are some recently posted reviews.

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DIOS HASTIO/THE FUTURES:
Split: 7" EP
Dios: Hyped-up Peruvian hardcore that has just the right elements to keep things interesting, yet not so much that you end up feeling bludgeoned into numbness. Real good stuff. Futures: Sweet Jesus, I'm glad I listened to the other side first, 'cause this side is mind-blowing. Take the force of Assfort, mix in a little of Bulimia Banquet's quirkiness (hey, it was the only reference I could think of that fit!), add some razors and broken glass for texture and voila! Some primo, grade-A chaos to make your heart warm and your ears bleed. –jimmy (Answer)


DIOS HASTIO/THE FUTURES:
Split: 7" EP
Dios Hastio: Discharge meets Mob47 in Lima, Peru. Absolutely superb thrash. The Futures: Melt Banana meets Gauze meets the Boredoms in classic insane Japanese fashion. Number One spazz attack. Four songs each, one solid fuckin' round thing. –Cuss Baxter (Answer)


DIOS HASTIO/THE FUTURES:
Split: 7"
I don't recall if I own anything from Peru. If they sound anything like Dios Hastio, I need to find more from the region and that band. These guys rage in a hardcore, fastcore or power violence way. Four tracks of mayhem that shriek with uninterrupted energy. The band's name, The Futures, sound like some new wave band. These guys from Japan sound like a mix of early Secret Hate meets Minutemen to me. The choppiness of the music while being quirky brings me back to the early '80s when you got a variety of music that flew under one banner. I almost passed on this release and missed out. Good old Retodd told me to pick this out of the bin. You can't always judge a record by its packaging. –don (Answer)


DICKIES, THE:
All this and Puppet Stew: CD
The long-awaited Dickies record on Fat Wreck Chords! I heard this was recorded and done almost two years ago and is just coming out. Another story I heard was Stan Lee never heard of Fat when Fat Mike approached him about putting this out. He and the band must be happy now, since I think XXX Records and A&M didn't do them justice and Fat will take care of them well. I am so happy that this is in my hands. I can't believe they have been around so long. I can't remember the exact year these guys started but I think it was around 1976 - 1978. They have been pumping out the music for all these years. You get 13 tracks of pop magic which includes the tracks on the "My Pop The Cop" 7" that was put out, I think, about three years ago. The Fat production is here with their brand of melodic bliss and their trademark silly lyrics. I'm so ecstatic that this is playing on my CD player. I have talked to others who have gotten it and we are in agreement that this is another great release. Imitators beware, the Dickies are alive and kicking. From start to finish this is one of the best releases of the year. It's so much fun that my hair is standing on end and a permanent smile grows while I have this cranking on my stereo. Can't wait to see them again at the Holidays in the Sun festival in San Francisco in August. –don (Fat)


DICKIES, THE:
All this and Puppet Stew: CD
Waiting for a new Dickies album is like going to a doctor's office. You sit and wait and wait and wait and, just when you've just about given up hope, here it comes bounding down the hall. Your attention now full upon what's before you, fear starts taking center stage. What if it's going to hurt in ways that you never thought possible? It has been a long time since you've been in this room, and you no longer remember whether it was painful the last time you were here. You plop the needle (or laser) down and, lo and behold, it isn't anywhere near as bad as you feared. You remember this feeling well. Everything's gonna be just fine. Doctors Leonard and Stan have given you just the right amount of what you need to get you through the next ten years before you find yourself in this place again. The Dickies still rule. –jimmy (Fat)


DEVIL IS ELECTRIC, THE:
Self-titled: 7" EP
Ever wonder what Fifteen sounded like with a lady at the helm, but didn't suck quite as bad as Fifteen? TDIE's "Important Public Announcement" preach punk where the music is secondary to the message, hamstringing the notes being played to the point of merely being a frame. Not so butt wiggling. Too harsh? Nah. Discount had fantastic music, a golden social conscious, and rocked like the dickens. You gotta bring the rock. Otherwise, write a pamphlet. –todd (Plan-It-X)


DEVIATES:
Time is the Distance: CD
Can you say, "Offspring"? I guess the money's starting to get a little thin over at the former and future home of Bad Religion. –jimmy (Epitaph)


DEROZER:
Mondo Perfetto: CD
Derozer are an upbeat Italian equivalent of the best of Bad Religion brashly blastin' a mindblowin' montage of mayhemic melodicore magnificence! The impressively flashy musicianship is a blistering blitzkrieg barrage of steady, precise, and relentlessly furious instrumental mastery: fiery staccato eruptions of frenzied guitar wizardry, thunderous godlike bass rumblings threateningly looming larger than the big ol' bouncy balls of King Kong on a rapturous pussy-seekin' rampage, thick brick-bashin' chunks of deliriously hard-driven drumming madness, and smooth but somewhat gravelly spit-spewin' vocals dramatically drenched in emotion, energy, and everlasting elation. And I'll be delightedly damned, even though the lyrics are sung entirely in Italian, the resiliently sapid songs contained herein are universally appealing and aurally all-encompassing... indeed, they're immensely engaging enough to traverse the seven seas, cross the seven continents, and cozily find a home deep within your inner ears. After just one life-altering listen to this distinctly dynamic disc, I euphorically felt compelled to rocket to the moon and back again while loudly lauding the soul-stirring sounds of Derozer... it's that damn good, folks! –Guest Contributor (KOB, Mad Butcher)


DEADLY SNAKES, THE:
I: CD
These Deadly Snakes are downtrodden yet optimistic. "By the time I'm gone, you'll be twice as dead as me..." Sheesh, that's a statement every burnt ex-lover can look forward to. "I'm Not Your Solider," their second full length, displays their broad range of influences from countrified, electrified, rhythmic blues to Kinks-influenced sways, back down to drunken honky tonk angst rock. This album separates these gentlemen from the boys still floundering in the cesspool of tired, ordinary garage rock'n'roll. The Snakes wear their dripping, bleeding hearts proudly on their sleeves and transform a shitty day - aw heck, their shitty lives - into a 14 track CD of pure emotional rescue in the form of a three-and-a-half minute song. Greg Cartwright is at the helm producing as well as balladeering these diamond-hard cuts much along the lines of what he had begun with the Compulsive Gamblers and his presence resonates throughout. If you've been around the block more than once and still love to hate it, this album is for you. –nam (In The Red)


DEAD MOON:
Trash and Burn: CD
I've heard glimpses and snatches of Dead Moon for awhile. They've been around for twenty years, if not more. The lead singer's voice makes me nervous. He's high pitched, and it makes me physically cringe. But, let me make this clear - this is a physiological response to Fred Cole's voice - like there's too much timbre in the recording or maybe it's just the right octave to make my skin get all crawly. I like the music behind him a bunch. Most simply, it's catchy, lo-fi, mono-recorded rock'n'roll, without any sort of effects at all, like the Rolling Stones before they started acting like gods and began playing like wanking Xeroxes of their former selves. There's a nice and simple honesty to Dead Moon's songs. I just wish the vocals didn't do what they do to me. –todd (Empty)


DEAD MAN:
Out with the Trash: CD
These deviant rock'n'roll hellions savagely thrash, wail, and plunder their way through an ear-bruising assortment of gritty bowery-style sonic decadence that's cacophonously comparable to a murderously rampaging skin-carving streetfight free-for-all between the Dead Boys, New York Dolls, and early '70s-era Rolling Stones. Hell yeh, the spit-tossin' vocals are razor-slashed and snotty... the rampantly searing guitars electrically resurrect the pockmarked and scarred ghost of Johnny Thunders like Frankenstein's brain-damaged monster (man oh man, this is some of the most goddamn amazing and energetically fiery guitar-playin' that's ever accosted my ears!)... the bass and drums violently battle it out in an ass-whuppin' whirlwind maelstrom of flesh-shreddin' turbulence... and an occasional napalm-propelled harmonica barbarically blares throughout it all. Now my ears are uncontrollably smokin' like a motherfucker (gee, thanks for the third-degree burns to my eardrums, D.M.C.!)... this is the ultimate havoc-inflicting aural experience, hands down and bar none! –Guest Contributor (Know)


CRISPUS ATTUCKS:
Red Black Blood Attack: CD
What makes some hardcore so frickin' great and most ho-hum? I think it has to do with the fact that you can only go so fast, then it turns to a mushy blur. Listening to Crispus Attucks is a fight between melody and power on a diving board. They're springing around on a narrow, yet flexible, genre of music that's so easy to fall off from into the deep end. Luckily, their chops are honed, their blasts short, and their delivery punishing without being pseudo-toughguy schlock. If I was a gambling man, I'd wager to bet they've got Pegboy, Articles of Faith, N.O.T.A, Black Flag, Kid Dynamite and The Zero Boys in their collections. No nonsense, back to basics, new blood hardcore that makes me want to sing along. –todd (Soda Jerk)


COME ONS, THE:
Tougher Than Elton John: CD
I am such a starry-eyed-in-love Screeching Weasel fan that the only reason Sean won't let me have them play at our wedding (well, besides the obvious, of course) is he knows I will ditch him and run off with Ben Weasel instead. Todd will tell you that my obsessiveness goes so far as to possess me to keep the band's black and white press release photos in picture frames around my house, like they just happen to be people I know, like friends or family. Then, too, I am such a die-hard fan that I'm willing to overlook Ben's erroneous ways, his poorly calculated choices, his past lapse in good judgment, and I will just pretend that "Emo" (the album) does not exist. That said, you will understand why I feel like I have met kindred souls in the Come On's and their self-released CD, "Tougher Than Elton John." You might say they sound like just another band who wants to emulate Screeching Weasel; you might say their new CD reflects exactly the same kind of pop punk style that Weasel made popular. I don't care. For these guys, it's a compliment. Because unlike all those other bands, the Come Ons are more of a testament to Weasel's amazing influence: these guys embody Weasel. Plus, everyone knows the drummer plays an integral role in a band; he controls the speed, the tempo - pretty much the direction the song is taking. This guy who plays drums for the Come Ons is so amazingly fast and so fucking gifted that he could make Dan Panic look bad. But anyway, even if you don't believe me, go see them play live. They rock. I'm even thinking about maybe asking them to come play at my wedding. –Guest Contributor (The Come Ons)


CLASS ASSASSINS, THE:
Self-titled: 7"
I got two releases from my good old buddy Derek, who puts out Soap and Spikes Zine and Records. This is one of them. The Class Assassins are a Toronto, Canada street punk band that he said he liked so much when he saw them live that he decided to put his fortunes in a bind and release their 7". I say good job, well done. These guys can compete and conquer against many of the generic street punk bands that are currently out there. The melodies are there with strong background vocals. The band produces good boot-stomping songs and the singer doesn't sound like he has smoked five packs of cigarettes to have his voice ready to fit a formula. Hope this release brings them attention so they can further reach an audience that surely would appreciate them. –don (Soap and Spikes)


CITIZEN FISH:
Life Size: CD
You see all the new generation punk kids with their Subhumans patches on their sweat jackets? I guess all the new kids have to show off their punk points by what patches they have. What in the hell happened to people drawing on their leather jackets? There is so much new music that comes out all the time to over focus on the past. Why not support 3/4 of the Subhumans and enjoy something new? Dick and company tour relentlessly and continue to record for the masses. By luck, the mass media hype of ska has died down to those who actually perform the genre with originality and excitement. As is their formula, they play a blend of punk ska that is unmatched. For some reason, I got the same excitement that I got when I got the Culture Shock (same band, different guitarist) demo. It is refreshing and fun while still having their trademark intelligent lyrics. If you haven't heard them before, where in the fuck have you been? I personally have eight different releases that they have produced, not counting this release, and I think I'm missing some. Great songs and great music as a whole make for a great release. I shouldn't have to explain this for anyone with any knowledge of this band. I personally like this. I'm also really happy that they have licensed this release to Honest Don's instead of Lookout. –don (Honest Don's)


CHRONICS, THE:
Soul Shaker: CD
Aaah, I've just painlessly died and gone to psychosonic garagerock heaven! The Chronics rumble, roar, and robustly growl with a sinister ear-buzzin' onslaught of gritty and grimy Nuggets-style sounds that unexpectedly punched me smackdab in the middle of my rosy-red nose and effortlessly laid me out like a motherfucker! This is the inimitable balls-out equivalent and cacophonously crazed counterpoint to The Yardbirds, The Who, The Animals, The Troggs, The Standells, and The Sonics in all of their wildly demented, overly distorted, belligerently bad-ass glory: soulful and blue-eyed, sexually-charged king-of-the-jungle vocals that'll cause the lil' ladies to uncontrollably wet their frilly lil' panties; fuzzy and fleshy, mean and nasty swirling guitar savagery; spirited lightning-flash streaks of electric organ terror; wild-eyed sulfate-huffin' Keith Moon-inspired drumming madness; and violent brain-rattlin' eruptions of volcanic cranked-to-the-max bass. Hell yeh, it's pure primitive rock'n'roll ferocity like this that motivated Satan to fall from the graces of Heaven, that inspired Jesus to walk on water, that makes the A-bomb sound like a baby bumblebee's buzz, that creates an unquenchable thirst within me for all things dark, decadent, and drunkenly debauched. Hhhmmm, I just can't control myself... I'm shakin' all over, 'cause I've got a bad case of The Chronics. Nothing else compares (or even comes close)! -Roger Moser, Jr. (an embarrassing endnote of sorts: after finishing this review, I exhiliratedly listened to this life-altering release for another two hours... just sittin' on the sofa, mesmerized and tantalized, heartily guzzlin' can after can of ice cold brew. At one point, I joyously leapt to my feet and spastically played the ol' air guitar along with the addictively intoxicatin' sounds contained herein... unfortunately, at the very moment I chose to madly leap about and jam with The Chronics, my brother just happened to be peering through the window... it seems he had continuously rang the doorbell, but I didn't hear him due to the excessively loud volume I was crankin' The Chronics. Although he got a hearty chuckle due to my juvenilistic antics, and I was blushin' beyond belief, at least he brought more beer!) –Guest Contributor (Bad Afro)


CHERRY VALANCE, THE:
Self-titled: CD
Take a bite out of this bad apple, people! You'll come to enjoy the vitriolic taste of Cherry Valance. All out rock, cooler than your brother's dirty old band t-shirts, Cherry Valance has it all; a hot chick guitar player and hot guys all scream at the top of their lungs while recklessly blasting their way through a mighty sermon of full-spectrum-rock'n'roll. Preach on brothers and sista! Imagine Joan Jett joining the MC5... People who dig Tight Bros. From Way Back would definitely like this. Thank you, good night! –nam (Estrus)


CALEXICO:
Even My Sure Things Fall Through: CD
I was initially scared of this disc because I'd heard that they were part of some new vanguard in country music. You couldn't tell from this disc, though. Sounds like Roby Robertson and Leonard Cohen took off into the Arizona desert for 40 days and wrote the soundtrack for the third installment of Robert Rodriguez' "Mariachi" trilogy while they were out there. It's different, but good. –jimmy (Quarterstick)


BROKEN BONES:
Without Conscience: CD
Well, they still sound like Discharge at their most metal, but they seem to be more obsessed with guns and other forms of more "personal" violence than with nuclear war. Some of this is pretty good, some ain't so hot. Still, it pretty much blows anything Bad Religion has done lately right out of the water. –jimmy (High Speed)


BRIEFS, THE:
C’mon Squash Me Like a Bug: 7"
Lyrically, the Briefs work along the lines of the best of country music (Hank Sr., Cash). No fancy words. No difficult concepts. Just stripped down glimpses into life. Simple stuff, but very far from easy to pull off without sounding like a fucking idiot. They've got dumbsmart nailed. And bouncing. You can't help but wanna jump around when you listen to them. Musically, they're like top-notch drugs and alcohol - pure and distilled, they squeeze out the best sweat of bands I love (Rezillos, Zero Boys, early Damned, Undertones), sieve it thorough a sweaty, frayed tube socks, and they wrap it around notes of their own. It sounds classic without choking on dust balls. Yeah. Fuck, yeah. Grade A punk rock. –todd (Sub Pop)


BRATMOBILE:
Ladies, Women, and Girls: CD
It's about time I got this record! I waited seven years for Bratmobile to put out a new record and it took me over a year to finally buy it. OK, so it came out last year, but I have a tight budget and I want to review it, damnit! This album is great. At first it was kinda weird for me. I felt like, rather than being one big group of riot grrrls hangin' out, it's now more like hangin' out in your room while eavesdropping on your older sisters hanging out and being riot grrrls. On second listen, I was right back on my feet jumping up and down like a pigtailed 15yr. old. Bratmobile has kinda - not so much matured - as they did fill out into their womanly shape and sound. I could safely say they sound a little more Lookout recordsy, but the combination has proved itself to be rewarding. Thank you Bratmobile for coming back and giving me a voice to listen to. I missed you. –Guest Contributor (Lookout!)


BOUNCING SOULS:
How I Spent My Summer Vacation: CD
Jeez, the last thing I heard from these guys was "The Good, the Bad and the Argyle" album, which was their first, I believe. Well, they've benefited well from Epitaph's inflated recording budget, but their quality of songs hasn't bettered over the years. They take stabs at the stereotypical terrace chant sing-along sound that so many of the label's other bands fail at, and they end up sounding just as hollow and unmotivated as all the others. Worst of all, there's no standout song, like "Quotes from Our Favorite 80s Movies" on "Argyle," unless you count "True Believers," which is such a rip off of the Ramones' "Bonzo Goes to Bitburg" that you can't help but feel embarrassed for them. While I can't say this is the worst thing I've ever heard in my life, it wasn't too impressive, either. –jimmy (Epitaph)


BODIES, THE:
3Brandnewsongs: 7"
I often sit and wonder what would have happened to the Bouncing Souls if they didn't start treading water in the songwriting department a couple years back. Abe's voice reminds me of 'em. I wonder what would happen if the Crowd got into a time warp dealie and were transmigrated to Northern Califonia in the '00s. Then rubbed raw against concrete. I no longer have to wonder. When I saw these guys, they were so fucked up, I really think they were all playing a different song at the same time for about a minute, then they gave up. Such endearing behavior always puts a check mark and smiley face near your name in my book. I bet, to woo the ladies, they line up all the chunks from their puke and spell out the girl's name before falling back into the splooge. Three short, effective, and catchy splashes in bright green vinyl. Hostage Records' only non-SoCal band. Good stuff. –todd (Hostage)


BLUELINE MEDIC:
A Working Title in Green: CD
Punk is like a potato: dirty, ugly and yummy. Say you thought you could improve upon the potato, so you carved it into the shape of a handsome man, painted it pretty colors, and dressed it up in a nice pair of slacks. Then you wrote some poetry for it. Guess what: you ruined it. Now it looks stupid and you can't eat it. It's limp and unfortunately won't even pass for art. This CD has "Pay no more than $8.99" printed on the tray card, but anyone who would pay ANYTHING for these four songs is a penis. –Cuss Baxter (Fueled by Ramen)


BLACKLUNG PATRIOTS:
Come to Senses: CDEP
This is melodic emotings of sonic energy that discreetly crept upon me and then passionately pounced into my ears like the Second Coming of Christ almighty! The four splendiferous slices of slightly emo-ish musical magnificence contained herein are meticulously pieced together in a melodiously swirling mishmash of pure pleasurable fury that's monumentally concluded before you can even open up and say "Aaaaaah." It's an audial equivalent of the dawning sun's brilliantly bursting shower of radiant light... frenetically full of life, hope, and youthful effervescence! –Guest Contributor (Blacklung Patriots)


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