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Record Reviews

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Below are some recently posted reviews.

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Self-titled: 7"
Mighty thrash punk from the folks that brought you Passout Record Shop. It seems nearly impossible that this much racket could be made by two people, a guitar, and some drums. Aerobitch made a similar noise with their LP in the mid-’90s, but there were five of them! The two original songs on side A are speedy and precise with flailing, brutal, Slayer-like drumming, while the cover of Pink Floyd’s “See Emily Play” on side B rules so much it simply has to heard to be believed. Recommended. –benke (Put-On)

Together at Last: Split 7"
The Trashies are a cool band I’ve been getting into lately—trashy rock descending from the Mummies and Supercharger vibe—a little bit cleaner but still a messed-up vital whack job sound. A quickie song, “Mongo Retardo” is awesome, and their cover of Supercharger’s “Soup Prize Package” is great too. This is the first time I’ve heard Hunchback and it’s a solid combo with the Trashies: plucky, dirty excitement with “Sixteen Tons” and a speedy cover of the Dead Kennedys’ “Too Drunk to Fuck.” A freaking fun 7”. And on 33 rpm, passing that value on to you. Good ol’ drinking, rooting tooting fun. –mike (Freedom School)

Wah...: 7"
I like being confounded by music, yet enjoying it. It’s like a taste that escapes memory, but lurks on the sides of your tongue. Hot New Mexicans do what The Carrie Nations’ Be Still did (and still does) to me. Made me stop and think that indie rock’s just in weak hands, the crowns have been sent to the wrong addresses. Diapers are full. Hot New Mexicans validate the theory that I really wasn’t listening to latter Hüsker Dü wrong; that it wasn’t just getting slower and needed sleepier (and infinitely more boring) interpretations, but by adding layers, tension, and depth there can be more to listen to. Much like Superchunk, with Hot New Mexicans I hear punk rockers unafraid to stretch their musical tastes without completely smothering that initial, unmistakable fire. Wow, this is good stuff and it’s got pianos and “la, la, las” all without the usual attendant reek of hipsterism. –todd (Fast Crowd)

The Intern: CD
I have been looking for that virgin feeling of hearing punk rock and hardcore for the first time. Being so pissed off and pent up at jocks and school and finally hearing raw guitar and drums, with some dude screaming lyrics of how I felt. Or at least screaming, so it felt right. Got that feeling back some from the Regulations and the Fatals, and now Homostupids is ripping it up for me. Pissed screaming, desperate guitars, song titles like “Dicksting” and “Apeshit,” this band is ready to rumble. A few songs off their previous two, brutal 7”s, but mostly new songs and actually recorded pretty good, assuming they are in a cement bunker nowhere in Ohio. Get this and remember what the fuck you got into punk for in the first place. –mike (Parts Unknown)

Vision Vanish Invisible: CD
After reading the press sheet and being prepared for something that would, “confront, contort, and confound your sense of what rock/punk/electronic music should be,” I can say what this left me with was a sense of what rock/punk/electronic music shouldn’t be. This is basically some heavily processed beats that have a bunch of equally heavily processed sounds and vocals going on all over the place, which adds up to hipster rave ambient music. I’m not against experimenting with punk rock because breaking outside the standard punk rock box can be absolutely inspiring (see Shellac, Nomeansno, The Minutemen, Slint, and The Locust, to name a few). This, on the other hand, sounds like some rejected Nine Inch Nails rhythm tracks overlaid with samples from Pure Moods CDs and some lazily drawled wannabe post-modern musings. To quote the press sheet again: “The word to name the sound isn’t available…” On the contrary I think it is: boring. –Adrian (Lujo)

Midnight Cashier: LP
Ever sat around in your undies and thought, “Huh, I wonder what Mike Wiebe of the Riverboat Gamblers would sound like with Mark, Mike, and Jeff of the Marked Men and Chris of the Reds?” I mean, they all live in the same geographic area. It’s not that inconceivable; weirder shit like nanotechnology is afoot nowadays. Still in your underwear, think Buzzcocks and that smattering of non-ass, synthesizer-driven stuff in the ‘80s (go ahead and cherry pick some Jesus And Mary Chain, some Cure, Echo And The Bunnymen, a whisper of Bauhaus) on top of that, and bang, there you go. On one hand, it’s pretty much what you’d expect (in the fact that it’s great, tight, and instantly memorable and sounds a lot like the Marked Men), on the other hand—and I’d suspected this all along—that this is a group of folks with many more than one or two bunnies to pull out of their collective hats and they aren’t afraid to roll that bunny up and throw the occasional curveball. –todd (Dirtnap)

Can’t Stop Thinking About You b/w I’m Walking Babes: 7"
A quick glance at the cover—five Dutch dudes sporting sullen looks, black button-ups, and nooses—and you might think that something mighty unconventional was afoot, ala the Monks. Not quite. Most of the A-side is good, though unremarkable, post-”Psychotic Reaction” garage rock. Until they hit the break. Then the organ drops out, the guitar feeds back, the rhythm section keeps chugging along, and the singer goes through the chorus. That’s when I picked up on the line “I can’t stop dreaming about you”—that’s a predicament of a whole different order. Can’t stop thinking about that special someone? Think about baseball or Weekend at Bernies or how to improve your stir fry skills; redirect your mind, bub, you can control your thoughts. But when that certain someone infects your subconscious that’s beyond your grasp. That merits serious empathy and it’s the twist this tune needed to rise above. “I’m Walking Babe” reaches those heights much sooner by simply having the guitarist play on the one and three beats; a little offbeat dissonance is good for what ails you. Mike Faloon –Guest Contributor (Kuriosa)

Letter to the Dead: CDEP
Here is something interesting I pulled off of Wikipedia: A Happy Death (original title La mort heureuse) was the first novel by French writer-philosopher Albert Camus. The existentialist topic of the book is the “will to happiness,” the conscious creation of one’s happiness, and the need of time (and money) to do so. It draws on memories of the author including his job at the maritime commission in Algiers, his suffering from tuberculosis, and his travels in Europe. I’m not sure this was the band’s reference in choosing a name, but it caught my attention. I was given this CD at a show a few months back from the singer/guitarist Rick. I had known that he had played in a few bands throughout the years, but I wasn’t sure what this band would sound like. I knew it would definitely be punk based. I popped the CD in the player at home a few days later and the first track, “12:22,” comes pouring out the speakers. Four clicks of the drum sticks lead to a thunderous bass line combined with almost a tribal use of drums. Slight harmonic guitar notes add a touch of emotion to that section of the song. Then the song powers ahead and the power chords are unleashed. I begin to hear Rick’s vocals and they are delivered with a sound that is pained and desperate. I pull out the booklet and start to read the lyrics to the songs because, right from the start, I really like this song. I understand where this emotion is coming from. I had a few conversations with him about him losing his fiancé to an early death. This song is for her. Honest and open for all to hear. I listen to just this one song over and over while I have my player on repeat. It really moved me. I had a loss recently and it connects with me and is a sadness I can share. Musically, the song is progressive with punk energy, dark with a death rock gloominess, and post punk with its out of the box use of guitar layering. The other three tracks challenge the listener to pay attention and keep listening. They do not play off of one formula. Each song is unique and could be mistakenly perceived as being performed by different performers if played in a mix of other songs. Even though the songs are different from one another, it is an enjoyable package as a whole. But four songs become a tease. I want to hear more. Hoping that the band does not implode, I am in anticipation that a future full length is in the works. –don (Me and My Shadow)

Split: 7"
Grabass: Sometime last year, I said, “Fuck it. I give up. No màs.” But then, when I can’t sleep, I start thinking… what mechanisms make rafts of shitty bands super popular while bands that I absolutely love—and plenty of people seem to dig, too—remain relatively obscure? The Grabass Charlestones are one of those bands. Two absolutely great songs—one about the world going to shit and that’s why Will likes cats (infallible logic), and one about a dude who burned everyone in his wake. Is it because the drummer’s the singer? (That worked for the Carpenters.) Is it because they don’t pander to any sort of trend? (That worked for the Ramones.) They don’t pander to any sort of scene? (That’s working for the Ergs!) Conundrum. But the band doesn’t seem to mind, so I’ll stop here. Ergs!: On the flip side, a band that’s getting its due. People are rightly amped up on them, as they show that pop punk isn’t a terminal trajectory into a musical cul-de-sac. It’s like looking at a fancy rock: durable as all hell and with slight twists, something new sparkles from them again and again. –todd (No Idea)

The Party Bag: 7"
After listening to the Ghetto Ways—and bands in their camp as diverse as The River City Tanlines to The Detroit Cobras—is that, on one hand, they’re comforting. I like old pre-cleaned-up rock’n’roll and soul: Sam Cooke, Little Richard, Jerry Lee Lewis, Chubby Checker, The Pinetoppers. And the Ghetto Ways instantly soak me back in that tub. It feels good. One the other hand, they just aren’t just reheating covers (or songs that are, for all intents and purposes, covers with different song titles). They sound itchy, desperate, wailing, and ready to blow off any coffin lid people may want to heap dirt on top of, to fill up rock’n’roll’s grave. Three great new songs. Feisty. –todd (Wicked Singles)

Self-Titled: 7"
I’m probably gonna get hate mail for this, no doubt most of it from the band, but “In the Monotone” reminds me of Robert Smith fronting a buncha dudes tripping on early U.K. post-punk. Don’t get me wrong, the song is seriously fucking good, as is the Middle Class cover on the flip, but homeboy sounded like he was very much in touch with his inner Cure. –jimmy (Project Infinity)

Split: 7" EP
Full of Fancy: A fine example of that brand of mellow college pop that gets changed four seconds after the drums kick in. “Whoah, Theodore” adds a little doo-wop lilt to the sound, but by then I had completely checked out. Acid Creeps: More college rock fodder. First tune is a fairly uninteresting rant whose only saving grace is it’s loud. Second tune mellows things out a bit and shows some decent musicianship, but, again, ain’t particularly interesting. –jimmy (Cutesville)

Revenge for Hire: CD
I don’t know if it’s just because it’s summer, but I’ve been listening to a whole lot more pop punk lately, and For Science has been firmly cemented in my rotation. Nothing too heady, full of songs about girls, and totally gives me instant gratification of a personal dance party every time I press play. –megan (Don Giovanni)

Where Our Bodies Go: CD
This is the first CD in a long time that I’ve gotten for a review and liked enough to keep. If it were up to me, I’d call this “garage folk,” with a crazy smorgasbord of influences (from Irish punk to ska to doo-wop to AC/DC) that really, really works. A little horn section here, a little fiddle there, and a lot of awesome all over. Folk-punk fans take note: Fake Problems could be your new favorite band if you let them. Sarah Shay –Guest Contributor (Sabot)

Shattered: CD

This is a posthumous odds and sods collection from Portland’s Exploding Hearts, which contains demos, unreleased songs, some singles, and alternate mixes of songs from Guitar Romantic. This assorted jumble makes for a surprisingly cohesive album. Basically, this is power pop of the highest order that conjures up the New York Dolls, The Pointed Sticks, and The Buzzcocks. Some of these songs like “I’m a Pretender” and “Throwaway Style” tap into some kind of universal melodiousness that just makes the songs seem like they should have always existed in the power pop canon, and initially had me thinking that the songs had to be T. Rex songs I’ve never heard. The slower version of “Teenage Kicks” on here is the best class of ‘77 anthem that’sactually from the 21st Century. There’s nary a foul turn to be found on this album, only sugary treats that hit with the spiky-sweet punch of Pop Rocks and soda.

–Adrian (Dirtnap)

Upstairs/Downstairs: CD

Wow, this record really snuck up on me. I’d been hearing a lot about the Ergs! around the Razorcake corporate compound (henceforth referred to as the Cake-Pound), so I was very excited to grab the review copy of Upstairs/Downstairs and proceeded to be disappointed… initially that is. I didn’t think it was bad by any means, but it just seemed kinda middle of the road at first. Then around the third or fourth listen I realized I really liked it and many of the melodies had subconsciously worked their way into my head. The best way to describe it is pop punk that’s mostly about girls with just the right amount of appealing nerdiness. My scientific proof of this looks like this: (((All+Jawbreaker)/Screeching Weasel)*Husker Du)Bouncing Souls)=Ergs! . A lot of tracks stick out as possible favorites including “Your Cheated Heart,” “2nd Foundation,” “Bike Shop,” and “Trouble in River City” but the undisputed king of the heap is “Books about Miles Davis.” The song starts out with just vocals and a lightly distorted guitar and perfectly captures a feeling of stagnation before busting out in a perfectly timed catharsis of drums, bass, guitar, and backing vocals for about two measures before settling back down again. The album ends with the eighteen minute title track (a Zen Arcade reference perhaps?), which is surprisingly not too hard listen to. The only misstep in the album is the countryish “Stinking of Whiskey Blues,” which isn’t a bad song so much as it throws off the album’s flow with its place in the track listing. This is a fun album that makes it to my recommendation list.

–Adrian (Dirtnap)

Upstairs/Downstairs: CD
There’s a band from New Jersey called The Nerds; they’re a typical cover band, they play things like weddings and corporate events and your typical shore bars, and the shtick is that they dress up in horn rimmed glasses and wear pocket protectors, while playing mostly various Top 40 hits from throughout the past few decades, like “WHOA, LOOK AT US. WE’RE TOTALLY DORKY, THAT’S NUTS, RIGHT?”. I point this out, because I can’t help but find it somewhat ironic that (and I mean this in the nicest way possible) The Ergs! have completely beaten “The Nerds” at their own game, so to speak. They’re smart dudes, and they know and obsess over all things music. We know they’ve already nailed writing the quick, catchy, poppy punk love songs, but there’s more proof here of just how talented they are (for example “Stinking of Whiskey Blues,” as well as the brilliant title track [which may actually be my favorite Ergs! song ever]). And if that’s not enough, they traveled all the way to the other side of the country just to record with Conrad Uno (and most likely demand to hear every little story he has), and with one of their favorite bands, to boot (you’ve heard of bringing your favorite band with you on tour? Yeah, they’ve upped the ante there too). I have no doubt in my mind that they could figure out a way to play music full time, be it by playing multiple sets at country and jazz bars every day, or becoming some lame ass cover band, but instead they keep putting out records like this, and playing great shows, and for that I am thankful. –joe (Dirtnap)

Blue b/w Blew: 7"
I find comfort within The Ergs’! depth of musical geekdom. Not only is this their “Blue” release—much like the Adolescents’ record—they have the Adolescents’ ability to be much more than the sum of their parts; those parts being punk rock; those parts being rock in general; those parts being filtered by guys who could probably play in any type of band, but I’m stoked that they chose punk to be the point of their spear. No, they don’t sound anything like the Adolescents, but that’s the point. Original hearts beat differently. Original awesome, bubbly original (I guess blue is the new color of bubblegum), one Nirvana cover with song credit going to Sid Vicious’ original name. I’m sliding the set list from the last show I saw them at in with the 7” right after I write this review. Go Ergs! –todd (Toxic Pop)

Split: 7"
Ergs!: Man, they write some fuckin’-a happy sad songs—stuff that you want to shout at the top of your lungs when it’d almost be embarrassing to write them down in a diary. More great original material—with Theremin outtro. The Gin Blossoms cover: Facts I have to face. 1.) I was at ground zero, Flagstaff, AZ when the Gin Blossoms  ruled that hippie stinkhole of a music scene every time they came and played. It soured me plenty when this song became a hit. Those guys were douche bags of the highest slurpage. I have booed the Ergs!—with vigor and shaken fist, yet with a smile—when they’ve played this live. Some scars take more time to heal. If you didn’t have to live through it, I guess it’d be more tolerable. Lemuria: 50/50. I learned a bit back that Fifth Hour Hero broke up and that bummed me out. I like dramatic, female-fronted, poppy sweepers. Lemuria are thick with sensitive, sweatery, at-liberty with sorta-poetic lyrics which alternate between sweet to cloying. All in all, this teeters; wouldn’t have minded a bit more of a stern stare down or two, or the removal of one ill-advised “drum solo.” –todd (Co-released: Art of the Underground, Whoa Oh, Yo-Yo)

Split: LP
Saw these two bands on tour with Iron Lung back in February. Great show. The record was done but was missing due to a UPS error. So no tour edition for me. But I had already procured a regular copy on clear and red splatter vinyl that was on the way. Yup, I’m a record nerd sometimes. It looks so pretty! If you are one angry muthafucker, this release just might pacify you. The Endless Blockade hail from Toronto, Canada. Picture your friend kicking you repeatedly in the gonads (if you are male) until you black out from the pain. This could be the accompanying soundtrack that goes through your mind while you are enduring the punishment—extreme bipolar fits of rage going from extreme sludgey dirge to manic fits of thrash rage. It amazes me that this was ever conceived. But seeing this band a couple of times live was proof enough for me. Hatred Surge brings a can of Texas-sized whoop ass. Straight for the throat, choke you while being suspended in the air hardcore. But watch out when they go to supersonic mode and attack you with the blast beats. The band also uses feedback to its advantage to bring on a sour mood before slamming you with some heavy power chords accompanying the banging of drums that sound like they were super sized. Dual male and female vocals with angered delivery add to the flavor. This is one puffed out chest, standing tall release. No matter how angry I might feel, these two bands make me look like a cartoon character. –don (Schizophrenic)

Tall Tales I & Tall Tales II: 7"
I’ve been going back to the punk music of 1989 as part of a project. ‘89 was definitely a quiet reconstruction year: grunge (or proto-grunge) was emerging neck and neck with Amphetamine Reptile, and (to no fault of AmRep) the cloning machines that poop out bands after a wave of popularity weren’t quite running. (Don’t blame the founders. Blame the clones. Mudhoney’s first record’s great stuff.) It was a diverse time and, looking back, the music landscape was wide open; partially, because it was a time to pick up long-neglected pieces, partially a time to discover a new “new music.” Dustheads, I salute you. They’re commingling that abrasive, breathless shouting of Big Black, that reckless rock abandon of early Zeke, a smidge of Laughing Hyenas, and a heavy dollop of “my pants are on fire today,” unafraid to put their own spin on the whole mess. Here are two 7”s that are thematically tight and well worth listening to all the way through, even when they spool out and get all Sabbathy. –todd (Don Giovanni)

Cool Out and Coexist: CD
This mixture of metal and dub reggae comes off as an attempt to answer the question, “What if King Tubby had recorded Helmet?” Their efforts at thinking outside the box are noble, and are most solid when they stick to straight-ahead dub (“Drive-By Dub”) and the more spacey experiments (“Extract”). Things are less successful, however, when they start incorporating the crunchy metal riffs because the switch from one style to another is so jarring that it sounds like someone clicking from one radio station to the next rather than one fluid thought. –jimmy (ROIR)

Because I'm Awesome: CD
When I used to listen to the radio a couple of years ago, I would listen to Dickey Barret in the mornings here in L.A. before he got fired. He used to play, every once in awhile, a song called “Wreckage” by a band called the Dollyrots. Every time that song came on, it would put on a smile on my face and I would be bopping down the street in my car blasting the stereo. I loved that the vocals were cutesy in a bubblegum way and snotty too. The music with its hard hitting 4/4 drumming and the driving, clean guitars made the song instantly infectious. I never really got off my ass to go look for the release, but it definitely is on my list of things to buy if I ever come across it. So it’s kind of funny that I got the newest release for review. This release has a stronger sound than the previous song that I heard, like they are coming from the garage to the stage. It’s more in your face and has a stronger rock sound. The signature vocals are there but there seems to be more confidence in delivery. The guitars are bolder and punch with much more force. The bass is solid and recorded with the tones that make you feel the notes. Something about the drumming of this band makes me want to pogo because it makes the songs sound more fun. Like the title suggests, the pop geek in me agrees that they are awesome! Now I really need to get searching for that previous release. –don (Blackheart)

Mind the Gap: CD
The two things I thought while listening to this is D-Generation and the Adicts meets the Dead Kennedys. Kind of trashy rock’n’punk meets melodic U.K. ‘82 with theatrics. Not too overproduced, but tight in musicianship. Kind of out of the box at times but that’s what keeps things interesting. –don (Cultjam)

Punk Rock Singles 1978-99: CD
Unless you’ve been living in a lead box buried eighteen feet under a very large rock, I really don’t need to delve too deep into the utter fuggin’ brilliance of DOA, do I? Sure, their best years were pretty much spent by 1987, and I personally have on more than one occasion lamented their not really living up to their legendary status in recent years. That said, this singles collection covering the years 1978-99 is pretty goddamned good. As can be expected, the early tracks—including “Disco Sucks,” “My Old Man’s a Bum,” “World War Three,” “The Prisoner,” their cover of the Subhumans’ anthem “Fuck You,” and many more—are the real gems here, but, surprisingly, the weakest tracks come not at the end but somewhere in the middle. The strength of the latter tracks has me wondering if maybe they should go the single route more often to slough off some of the chaff that has been making it onto their albums in recent years, ‘cause it’s evident that they can still come up with some rip-roaring tuneage when they’ve the mind. Ultimately, this comes highly recommended, it feels marvy to say that about a DOA record again, and the eternal optimist in me looks forward to saying the same about a fresh batch of tunes from them one day. –jimmy (Captain Oi)

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