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Record Reviews

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YEARS FROM NOW:
We’re Gonna Need a Bigger Boat: CD
Do you have friends? How did they not tell you that you are not good enough to cover any Descendents’ song, let alone “Bikeage,” which should probably be covered by nobody. Ever. Because it’s that good. Oh, also, people on Press Your Luck said “Big money, big money, no whammies” and not, as your first song is called, “Big Bucks, No Whammies.” Thanks for playing. –megan (Get Outta Town)


WORLD BURNS TO DEATH:
Totalitarian Sodomy: LP
A highly anticipated second release from this Austin, TX powerhouse. Continuing on from their 2002 debut LP The Sucking of the Missile Cock, the band really took their time in releasing their next full length. They did put out an ample supply of 7”s and splits to keep the hungry at bay. But it was well worth the wait. The production is top notch with everything mixed at the right level, achieving a power level that should knock most flat out on their ass. Hard hitting, a boot-to-the-stomach music that reaches a level of perfection that many try to achieve but fall short. Even though I do own a few of their earlier releases, I hate to say it; I think this record makes their previous material almost forgettable. It is that enjoyable from start to finish; a feeling of extended rage that is so fierce, that it makes you pay attention, while their early material focused more on speed. A lot of the new material displays better musicianship and slows things down a tad to better express the power. Guitar riffs that have an early KISS meets Motörhead metal feel mixed with the punk/hardcore. Drums and bass that drive the lower octaves that make subwoofers push hard so that you can definitely hear and feel what is being played. Jack Control’s dark signature vocal delivery layered right on top of the mayhem ties everything together for a cohesive barrage of power. I know many who have knowledge of this band have already purchased this release, myself included. I usually don’t review my personal purchases anymore. But if a release is assigned to me or requested, I will review it. Even though this has been out a few months, I hope someone reading this will check out this release and get introduced to another side of punk that is different from the more mainstream. I believe after hearing this, a high percentage would be more inclined to search out other great DIY releases that are out there. –don (Hardcore Holocaust)


WITCHES WITH DICKS:
Manual: CD
Man, this shit is tight. Think of the Ringers by way of Dillinger Four, and the Thumbs. For me, this is the kind of record that you’re unsure about at first, then you listen to it a couple of times and all of a sudden you’re singing the songs in your sleep. Then you wake up and say, “God damn I feel like listening to that fucking CD again.” My only complaint is that a witch with a dick is a warlock. –Dave Disorder (Kiss Of Death)


WHAT REMAINS:
Destroys All Monsters: CD
I wanted to like this band as soon as I read the track list, because their song, “The Truth Is Never Flattery, Dr. Adams,” is a reference to This Island Earth, the classic ‘50s sci-fi flick skewered in the MST3K movie. From that note, I was expecting something more goofy, but What Remains still did not disappoint. Their brand of emo-inflected indie-flavored punk may not be the most creative, but, consarnit, sometimes you just want to hear something that’s good and enjoyable without trying to start a damned revolution. Sarah Shay –Guest Contributor (Dave’s Bedroom)


VOMIT:
Kate Moss: 7"
One sided 7” of some serious Central California thrashy negacore. Eight songs on one side, so you know what you’re getting yourself into: a couple sludgy ones and a whole bunch of super fast, super short, priceless gems of unsightliness. The appearance of this record really stands out—which it should—because it took the work of three labels (Give Praise, Thrash Up Your Ass, and Cactus Plant) just to get this to the masses. Another great example of small town hardcore really showing the rest of the world how fucking pissed they are too. This band is now called War Pigs. –Daryl Gussin (cactus_plant_ouch@yahoo.com)


VOLT:
Self-titled: CD
The newest wave has bands like Volt leading the way. And what a perfect fucking name for this band. Post-post-post modern (how stupid are labels?) new wave explosion—1985 time drum machine, stabbing electro-guitars, nasally male-female vocals. But more put into it than just picking the right instruments, dressing up, and freaking out. Volt takes it to the house. They got that solid energy you can feel with a band when they aren’t trying to fit in to a scene but are making music they want to make. On the fence of art punk and just cool, rocking songs, they tear it up with speedy screams and killer, slow detonations. The beauty of robots covered in flesh, picking up instruments. –mike (In the Red)


VERDE:
The Undeserved Current: CD
Ethereal-sounding rock reminiscent of Galaxy 500, Codeine, and, at times, Sebadoh. It’s listening to stuff like this that makes me wonder, “Would I have ended up in anger management if I was listening to Verde rather than Off With Their Heads?” –Dave Disorder (Bakery Outlet)


VENEREA:
One Louder: CD
Holy fuckin’ rock me…if Call Me Lightning’s record is a scalpel, Venerea’s is an anvil dropped on the head. The first tune, though, made me think that this was gonna be some sort of new era metal drivel the likes of the Deftones or similar stuff, but I was pleased to be very wrong. It took me fifteen minutes to get through the second song (“Guantanamo”) ‘cause it was pure powerful hardcore that grabbed me by the nutsack and refused to let go. Venerea sound, at least to this humble reviewer, like a metalfied version of Bad Religion; there’s some bits of chunky power metal mixed with piles and piles of blistering yet melodic hardcore. Kind of like a less muscle-bound version of Biohazard. Lyrical topics range from the political to the beauty of defiance to thoughtful musings on love, life, and whatnot. On the whole, One Louder rocked my socks off; I couldn’t get enough of it and I very much look forward to what these four Swedish chaps can come up with in the future. –The Lord Kveldulfr (Bad Taste)


VARIOUS ARTISTS:
We Love the Blowtops: 2x7"
Double 7” of rad, rad bands covering Blowtops songs, a kickass swamp horrorpunk band that is ten years old now. It’s a who’s who of garage rock: Jay Reatard guitar punks up “Venoms Victims Wine,” sounding in between The Reatards and his solo stuff, Tractor Sex Fatality gives their own spooky brand of weirdness to “Judas Order,” Vilent Lovers Club (which is Odie from the Baseball Furies) gives a great ‘70s moody vibe with “Phone Call from a Corpse” that’s very different from the Furies, The Mistreaters provide perfect dirty glory for “Cannibal Lust,” The Radio Beats give a short, sweet and ripping version of “Brasshead Smash,” and the Trailer Park Tornados break down the sick “Within these Walls,” which is a recently rediscovered song on the Blowtops heavy P.S. This Is a Zombie CD. All in all, a killer compilation. I suppose that’s a given with the Blowtops songs and the bands here, but it surpassed my expectations, mofo. –mike (Big Neck)


UNLOVABLES, THE:
Heartsickle: CD
Never has a band been so inaccurately named as The Unlovables. This band is so highly lovable I can hardly stand it. Although perhaps not as seamless as their previous album of pop punk perfection Crush Boyfriend Heartbreak, this new one, Heartsickle has still been in heavy rotation in my home, office, and car ever since it fell into my eager hands. Lead singer Hallie Bullit writes some of the catchiest melodies and wittiest lyrics that I’ve heard in a long time. As anyone who’s heard the band’s previous album and EP might expect, there are lots of songs about the ups and downs of punk rock love on here, but there’s also a tear-jerkingly sweet ode to a best ladyfriend (“Samantha”) and a great why-do-you-want-me-to-get-married-and-drive-a-minivan? rant (“Disaster”) So highly recommended, all my friends are sick of hearing about it already. –jennifer (Whoa Oh)


TUFF LUVS:
Party Dudes: CD
I know it’s not a popular opinion, but I still feel that just because a band can get fucked up, it doesn’t make it a good idea (for example; D4 = can do whatever the hell they want). When I got this CD I was a little wary at first (again, if the sixteen-year-old kids in my neighborhood can get drunk, is it really that big of a deal if you do?), but was put at ease within seconds, because this is great. Part Supersuckers (during some of the slower, groove-heavy jams) and part Marked Men (actually, make that a skuzzier Marked Men), that, while may be all about partying, ultimately focuses on the rock. Very recommended. –joe (New Art School, newartschool.net)


TRASHIES:
What Makes a Man Get Trashed?: CD
A bit more accomplished than I remember the last thing I heard from them, but they’re still hitting just shy of the “greatness” mark. What’s on here sounds like they’re making a run at the throne of L.A.’s late, great Deadbeats, and they might’ve been successful, too, if it weren’t for a muddy “trash rock” mix that actually dilutes any necessary rawness from the music. In the end, some interesting things are afoot here, but they come not with a roar but submerged underwater. –jimmy (Mortville)


TRANZMITORS:
Self-titled: LP
Hello Top Ten of 2007. With this, the release of the Tranzmitors’ first full-length, I was seventy-five percent expecting that they’d collect all of their 7”s, add a song, slap it on the butt, and call it a day. Nope. Nine new ones and a Scientists’ cover. It’s a cliché, but in this instance it’s true. You get different beasts from this record at differing volumes. At lower, “driving the folks around in their minivan in traffic” volumes, it’s much more Elvis Costello, Vapors, and soft melody, but when it’s rattling the plaster on the ceiling, the Jam and Exploding Hearts slice through the speakers. All this is basically me naming bands I really like—all of who embrace power pop—and the Tranzmitors not only make me think of them, they elbow themselves into the lineup right beside them, grinning madly. Highly recommended. –todd (Deranged)


TRANZMITORS:
We Are Alone with You b/w Between Planets: 7"
This is a definite departure from the early singles, and it’s not a complaint. It seems like they started with a survey of the late ‘70s with Wire and Gang of Four and are now exploring the early ‘80s with XTC with a Style Council feel in the mix. The paces are slower, more mellowly melodic, but, fuck it, dude, they can write great songs, and there’s not enough of that in the world. Is there a Jesus and Mary Chain tribute album coming out that I’m unaware about? This is second cover I’ve heard by a punk band in the last two months (Dan Padilla, too), and it’s interesting to hear that stuff again without that wash of zzzzzzzzzzz that the JandMC put all the way through albums that had a tendency (although a fine band) to smoosh a lot of their songs together for me. –todd (Seeing Eye)


TOY DOLLS:
Dig That Groove, Baby & A Far Out Disc & Idle Gossip: CD
True story: I saw the Butthole Surfers at Fenders in Long Beach back in the late ‘80s. Put simply, their set was pretty goddamned weird: two drummers; songs about “the fleshy thing that grew outta Johnny’s head” and proclamations that “the white man sold Quaaludes to the monkeys;” strobe lights flashing like mad; Gibby, in a green dress and hair covered in clothespins, pours green paint all over the audience and proceeds to flail his head about, sending clothespin projectiles flying in all directions. What, you ask, does this have to do with the Toy Dolls, you ask? Well, I’ll give you one guess who came on after them. That’s when the mindfuck really began. The set the Dolls put down that night was like regressing damn near back to the womb after the total acid meltdown I’d just witnessed prior, with songs about wayward intelligent elephants, combative spiders, test tube babies, and singer/guitarist Olga doing a striptease down to a pair of Bermuda shorts before tearing through a white-hot cover of the Surfaris “Wipe Out.” No two bands were more diametrically opposed, yet more perfect for sharing a bill, and it remains the single strangest band lineup I’ve seen to date (I think Final Conflict and a couple of Nardcore bands were on the bill, too, but it’s been too long ago to remember all the particulars and I digress anyway). By the time I saw them that night, the Toy Dolls (and the Surfers) were one of my favorite bands, an opinion formed over constant listens of the first two of the three albums under discussion here. Dig That Groove Baby, their first full-length, set the template—instrumental intro/outro, silly songs with alliterative titles delivered at lightning speed with lyrics culled from soap opera plots and/or what seemed like stuff Dr. Seuss hadn’t gotten around to writing about—for every subsequent release. It also set the bar rather high from the get-go, with its frantic tempos, Olga’s jaw-dropping fretwork and a rhythm section any band would kill for. Although they fell just shy of that bar with their second release, A Far Out Disc, it was still, compared to most others bands, a phenomenal release, with instant classics like “She Goes to Fino’s,” “You and a Box of Handkerchiefs,” and “Bless You My Son” (the tempo of which rivals the fastest Dead Kennedys jam, yet still manages to stay well within the realm of the Toy Dolls’ “punk pathetique” musical parameters), as well as a couple of disposable TV themes and a commercial break. Their third, Idle Gossip, features consistently superb songs (“Lambrusco Kid,” “Harry Cross,” and the title track, to name a few) slightly hampered by some patented 1980s “overproduction,” in this case enough reverb to make it sound like they’re playing in a cathedral. The quality of the songs still manages to shine through, making for a solid listen despite any sonic setbacks. For this round of reissues, Captain Oi has added to each CD tracks from every EP, single, and compilation the band graced during the period documented on each release, which means, in addition to the original album tracks, the listener will be treated to other hits like “I’ve Got Asthma,” “Tommy Kowey’s Car,” “Deirdre’s A Slag,” Cheerio & Toodle Pip,” “James Bond Lives Down Our Street,” at least three different versions of “She Goes to Finos,” and oodles of others. While I’m kinda put out that the album version of “Nellie the Elephant” has been inexplicably replaced with the single version, these three reissues remain mandatory for any punk collection. –jimmy (Captain Oi)


TOUCH ME NOTS / GRAVE BLANKETS:
Split: 7"
Touch Me Nots: Sometimes when listening to back-to-basics and roots-inspired music, I can get into it from an almost academic/archaeological standpoint. It’s good, I like it, it holds its own, glad I heard it. But The Touch Me Nots do more. They make me want to sway, to snarl, to dance and make me feel like I’m living in today, even if they sorta sound like yesterday in the best possible sense. Nice. Grave Blankets: Hmmm. I hear what they’re going for: Gun Club via The Gibson Brothers, but I just ain’t spooning up what they’re slopping down at their cafeteria. Sorry, but I’ll be reaching for the Bassholes for that. –todd (self-released)


TOTALITÄR:
Vi Är Eliten: CD
I recently somehow ended up in a conversation with my dentist, a very nice woman from Sweden, about Scandinavian hardcore. As most who know me will attest, I usually end up in a conversation with everybody about music ‘cause, hey, I really like music, but talking to a dentist about the finer point of Mob 47’s career is a bit much. Anyway, I plop this on and the whole thing makes sense. Aside from the obvious (both Totalitär and my dentist share a common country of origin), both full-bore fjordcore and having one’s gums sliced and diced take a little getting used to, but the benefits of both outweigh the discomfort. In the case of Totalitär, one is treated to one seriously heavy slice of pulverizing Swedish thrash sure to liven up any party (as they rip through “Du Som Bara Hatar” on the stereo next to me, I find myself wishing they were an East L.A. band [or I was Swedish] so I could follow them around the county from one backyard to the next), and in the case of the ol’ chompers, she says I’ll now be able to keep them for the rest of my life. Think I’ll float her a CD for the office with these guys, Mob 47, Rajoitus, Krigshot, DS-13, and others on it. The older patients will no doubt love it. –jimmy (Prank)


TOASTERS, THE:
One More Bullet: CD
I can’t believe this band is still kicking out the ska! This band has been doing it since 1982 and is one of the few that are still standing and still going strong. What I always like about this band is that they play the two tone ska with the best of them. But they always mix it up and add flavors of reggae and other Caribbean elements. The key to their music is that the music is fun and is a perfect backdrop for a good time. Ska lovers will not be disappointed with this strong release from this veteran band. –don (Stomp)


TEST PATTERNS:
No Translation: 7"
Happy bubble gum, quick and fun, fucking dance, bitch, ‘cause we’re gonna rock. I wanna put this on every day and make the dudes having random sex in my alley look in the window and feel jealous of the good time this 45 is. –mike (Contaminated)


SVARTENBRANDT:
Från Andra Sidan Spåren…: CD
If you’re a fan of punk rock and you live in the year 2007, there is a wide variety of music that has influenced you. A lot of different speeds, vocal styles, guitar playing, etc. It seems like really good bands are influenced by many different styles, but seem to create a sound that is original and familiar. Like a new acquaintance in which you share mutual friends. You can see these bands’ record collections and notice which ones have well-worn groves, but also hidden in the stacks are records you might not expect but you’re not surprised that they’re there. What I’m trying to say is, Svartenbrandt are really good. It’s that simple. They play punk rock with a serrated edge. A really sharp serrated edge. It’s rough and gritty, and fucking aggressive. The English translation of the lyrics in their insert is a gift to the world. You can tell that whoever wrote them has done some serious thinking and is seriously pissed off, but not in a belligerent way that makes you wanna write them off. This release is totally DIY and should impress even the most jaded curmudgeon out there. If you enjoy the European perspective of the looming doom that is upon us, ala No Hope For The Kids, this is in the same vein. –Daryl Gussin (Self-released, svartrnbrandt@gmail.com)


SURRENDER:
Self-titled: 7"
When I was younger and hadn’t put together large pieces of the punk puzzle together, I listened to a lot of Crass—I only had about ten records, listening to them constantly—and learned a lot. Say what you will about the band, there were times in almost every record that it got downright pretty. Eve Libertine had a haunting, cavernous—even sweet—lilt to her voice that seemed like a freshly released dove above the bulldozed, skree-filled, vulture-pecked carnage that Crass is usually remembered for. Plus, Crass were smart. Enter Surrender. They take that five to ten percent of Crass that was unnervingly beautiful and make a record with those types of elements, tension, and iconography as the taking-off point. Instead of slogans that tend to wear down like tire treads over time, Surrender relies on open-ended questions and statements: “What if,” “What now?” “Pay no more” and “Surrender Is.” Surrender’s smart, too, and questions basic human assumptions while providing a soundtrack to some rump shaking. This is some great stuff. –todd (Surrender)


SUNDOWNER:
Four One Five: CD
Sundowner is Chris McCaughan, guitarist and co-vocalist of the Lawrence Arms’ solo project. If you’re at all familiar with his work in the Lawrence Arms, this album should be a shoe-in to your collection. If not, grab a copy, or head over to that silly punk news website to stream a few songs off the album. It’s solid and earnest. Try emotional, not “emo.” This is anything and everything BUT what Red Scare has been known to churn out: a good healthy heaping of pop punk mayhem. But it works, and it’s really great. While it might not get you to mosh and pogo, it’s punk rock as it should be—groundbreaking and beautiful. –mrz (Red Scare)


STONEKING, C.W.:
King Hokum: CD
As with most Voodoo Rhythm releases, I was thrown for a loop when I first popped C.W. Stoneking’s King Hokum into the CD player. I took a look at the cover art—a faded picture of a guy from a decade long past holding some sort of dobro resonator guitar—scratched my head and thought, “Huh.” The music brings to mind Robert Johnson and Louis Armstrong; old delta blues plucked languidly and sung in a rich but broken voice that would turn a lot of those old bluesmen green with envy. The album is set in a fictitious Southern town in the 1920s and uses the Dodo bird, bad luck, and bad lovin’ as its subject matter. “You Took My Thing and Put It in Your Place” is a hilarious, tongue-in-cheek duet with loads of sexual innuendo and enough innocent charm to keep you from focusing on the fact that it’s about erectile dysfunction. Once again, Voodoo Rhythm scores with an offbeat, unique release that will spend hours and hours in my CD player. –benke (Voodoo Rhythm)


STEINWAYS, THE:
Rocket Surgery: 7" EP
…if Mutant Pop Records was still in business, which it isn’t, the presence of the Steinways would cause Timbo to spontaneously combust in an explosion of piss, shit, snot, cum, blood, saliva and undocumented brain goo, so, in retrospect, it’s probably for the best that Mutant Pop is no longer with us. Ten funny as hell—yet strangely meaningful—pop punk songs on a seven-inch 45; tight as the Ergs, but not as jazzy; three tunes merely short, the other seven ultra-brief indeed. I kinda think you need this. Actually, I’m certain of it. BEST SONG: “Milk Was a Bad Choice” BEST SONG TITLE: “(My Girlfriend Is A) Crazy Fucking Cat Lady.” I hear ya. FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: “You can also learn a great deal about pianos by visiting www.google.com and entering ‘The Steinways’ into the empty text field.” –norb (Don Giovanni)


STABBED IN BACK:
A Portrait of Noise: CDEP
This is four tracks of fast, melodic, and pissed-off hardcore of the non-metal variety that has more in common with 7 Seconds, Kill Your Idols, and Paint It Black then Metallica or Megadeth. I like this, but I can’t get over the fact that these guys sound exactly like New Mexican Disaster Squad. This is really ironic because Stabbed In Back are actually from Albuquerque New Mexico (Home state pride! WHOOT WHOOT!!!), while New Mexican Disaster Squad are from Orlando, Florida. Maybe a name swap could be arranged at some point? According to the press sheet, one of the members (I think the drummer) was in the Lillingtons, but this sounds about as much like the Lillingtons as Born Against sounded like Screeching Weasel. Oh, and the fade out to “When Laughter Turns to Screams” is anthemic enough to make even AFI proud. I definitely want to check out any other stuff these guys put out. –Adrian (Basement)


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