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Record Reviews

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Below are some recently posted reviews.

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NAGG:
Self-Titled: CD
...having become Razorcake’s de facto glam critic simply by virtue of having enough interest in the source materials to be able to call people on their shit when they’re underperforming, i have found that the legitimacy of most of the modern-day would-be glamsters, to me, is called into immediate question by their not doing the things that i imagine i would do were i in their position (i.e., covering, say, “Really Gonna Raise the Roof” by Slade, covering something written by Chapman and Chinn, etc.). Imagine, then, my consternation and disgruntlement when i am finally confronted with a “glam” band (i don’t know... they’re kind of fucking ugly for a glam band. They should all be prettier, like myself) who actually DO cover, say, “Really Gonna Raise The Roof” by Slade, a Chapman/Chinn penned number (“She’s in Love with You” by Suzi Quatro) (Quatro, Schmatro—it still counts), etc.—and they STILL don’t have it right. I mean, the guitar player handles the “Really Gonna Raise the Roof” riff so uncapably that one would almost swear that he’s got a wireless unit on his guitar and is playing it without benefit of headphones or monitors from a parked truck three blocks down the street from the studio, the “Bam banma loo banma baby, the man in blue says can you keep it clean” line (occasionally mis-transcribed as “Bam BAM A loo” etc., which is too Little Richard to be correct) right after the solo doesn’t go “BUH-BUH-BUH-Banma Loo Banma Baby” as it should (the “BUH-BUH-BUH” indicating elevated levels of frenzy and riotiousness)—hell, even the little decayed drum stutter before the end is all wrong. Further, at no point in time should any glam record remind me of Pat Benatar (actually, i think that would hold for non-glam items as well) and they should have covered that “Whoa baby you’re a nag” song by Joan Jett. Off with their heads i suppose. BEST SONG: “She’s in Love with You” BEST SONG TITLE: “Really Gonna Raise the Roof,” which, for the record, is supposed to be spelled in Sladean English with the N’s and S’s backwards (funny that spell-check doesn’t pick up on that) FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA ANSWER: Lexington Express! –norb (Dollar Record)


MOTOCHRIST:
Greetings from the Bonneville Salt Flats: CD

Motochrist is a band that sounds so polished, so well-produced, you wonder if they don’t occasionally feel as if they’re betraying their tattooed losers image. Not unlike the plethora of Green Day wannabes that have haunted the corporate airwaves over the last eight years, Motochrist has all the ingredients necessary for a really crankin’ punk band. But instead they play it safe, putting out a pseudo-metal album that would be as accessible to both junior high kids and fifty-year-old headbangers. Greetings from the Bonneville Salt Flats is not the high-octane offering one might expect from glancing at the dragster on the cover. Ever see The Decline of Western Civilization: The Metal Years? Motochrist are, like Motley Crue before them, full of bluster and lyrics that pander to both thirteen-year-olds and big label reps in search of the next big thing. There are redeeming moments if you’re willing to cut them a little slack—“Someday” sounds a tad like early Soul Asylum and there have certainly been worse Ramones covers than their take on “I Just Wanna Have Something To Do Tonight.” All in all, Greetings isn’t a bad album, just one that is repeatedly sabotaged by run-of-the-mill rock and roll lyrics.

–eric (Heat Slick)


MORTICIA’S LOVERS:
Smash the Radio: LP
In recent months, i believe i have stated (or, at bare minimum, implied) that 1. Bands to whom English is not a primary language would be better served howling in their native tongue, as opposed to clumsily verbally waddling thru already beat-within-an-inch-of-their-life Anglophone punk rock clichés; and 2. Italian bands are such a buncha style flunkies that they’ll never amount to anything, ever. It is now my distinct pleasure to inform you that gravity has reversed its field, objects fall upward, the sun orbits the earth, water flows uphill, time is flowing backwards, the sun rises in the west, matter is both created and destroyed, and the Cubs have won the World Series: Mesdames et Monsieurs, voici MORTICIA’S LOVERS!!! (sorry, i don’t know any Italian) ...now, the whole thing is that, at the onset of the album, my previously stated positions appeared to be in no great danger of dethronement: The title track—located Side One, Track One—is a typical Continental excursion into Anglophonic punk clichés: “Smash the Radio.” Yeah. We get it. Smash. Radio. Right. One gets that whole Hatepinks vibe of song titles created by drawing random punk words (plus an article! Hurray for diversity!) out of a hat, and can’t help but feel that this is the work of a band who are crossing their fingers and hope they wind up sounding kinda like the Minds or someone. However, shit begins to ramp up over the duration of Side One, and by the time song #6 rolls around—“How I Hate You”—sort of a Superchargerish raveup a la “Get Outta My Life”/“Hippy Jerk” without actually sounding like Supercharger are performing it, which is all well and gone—this band has suddenly gone from holding on to their ass with both hands and hoping for the best to a band who have got the best sixth-song-on-a-seven-song-side-one since frickin’ “Suzy Is a Headbanger” (“Sheena Is a Punk Rocker” off of Rocket to Russia notwithstanding, because in that case track six is the hit, and track seven is the follow-up, which is an abnormal set-up for a seven-song first side, where song number six is basically seen as a placesetter for song number seven) (or so things are inscribed on the clay tablets of my imagination) (however, it’s certainly the best song-six-on-a-seven-song-side-one on album number two since “Suzy Is a Headbanger,” and if you can prove otherwise, go for it). “How I Hate You,” however, merely primes the punkly pump for the unspeakably and unutterably FANTASTIC “Love Is Just An Hippy’s Thing.” Dude. I mean, DUDE. THINK ABOUT IT: “Love Is Just An Hippy’s Thing.” I mean... dude! Every so often, a song comes along that need only be described using the song’s title, and the word “dude.” This is such a song. Dude, “Love Is Just An Hippy’s Thing.” DUDE! I can go no further with my descriptive parlance. You must either take me at my “Dude!” or discard my opinion utterly. Choose wisely, my son. In any event, it is quite obvious that something like “Love Is Just An Hippy’s Thing” could never come about were the non-English speakers required, as i had suggested, to sing in their native tongue. It is quite apparent to me now that putting non-native English speakers/manglers at the vocal helm of English-Singing Bands opens up an entirely new dimension of accidental genius, that, in my heinous myopia, i had not previously considered. I emerge chastened. Re-driving this point home—as if “Love Is Just An Hippy’s Thing” wasn’t a forceful enough recitation of my shortcomings—is Song Two, Side Two: “Chemical Drugs.” That’s right. His baby’s got to get off those Chemical Drugs. Fucking genius. Album cover of the month, album of the month, band of the month... everybody go nuts now. BEST SONG: “Love Is Just An Hippy’s Thing” BEST SONG TITLE: “Love Is Just An Hippy’s Thing” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: “Saturday Night” is not, alas, the Bay City Rollers song—but “Alcoholiday” is, in fact, the KAOS cover. –norb (Demolition Derby)


MONOSHOCK:
Runnin’ Ape-Like from the Backwards Superman 1989-1995: CD
Gawd, here’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. Contemporaries of Supercharger and the Mummies, these guys mined the same “budget rock” recording quality as those bands, but their music was more rooted in the weird wasteland between psychedelia, the Velvet Underground, and the Stooges. I heard maybe a grand total of one of their singles back then, but judging from what’s on this disc here, it sounds like they remained pretty consistent in the quality of their output during their six-year run. If you like it loud and steeped in the coolest bands the ‘60s/‘70s had to offer. You can’t go wrong with this. –jimmy (S-S)


MISS ALEX WHITE & CHRIS PLAYBOY:
Young Monsters: 7"
This is the New Ick. BEST SONG: Whatever. BEST SONG TITLE: “Pop/Stall,” because i’m queer for nonalphanumeric characters. FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: The chick looks kind of hot, but you can’t really tell from the picture. –norb (Missile X)


MENACE:
Rogue's Gallery: CD
Pretty by-the-numbers pub-punk from these onetime GLC haters. While they never come within the neighborhood of the intensity of their early work, it ain’t bad as far as “classic band gives it another go” releases go. Their lyrics remain street-level political without getting preachy and there are enough hooks here to keep your average Cock Sparrer fan listening. Smart move getting the vocalist from Resistance 77 to front the band, too. –jimmy (Captain Oi)


MELVINS/LUSTMORD:
Pigs of the Roman Empire: CD
No notes came with this, so I’m speculating in a second: I think Lustmord is an old industrial outfit or guy who’s probably been on the underground music scene even longer than the Melvins, and who here apparently remixes some parts of some new Melvins songs in the direction of ambience, while the new Melvins songs themselves, when not being remixed, are top-notch riffy Melvins fare, some of the best I’ve heard in years. Perfect for every mood there is, including: excited, sleepy, sulky, beaming, wistful, hungry, and stung by a bee. –Cuss Baxter (Ipecac)


MEKONS, THE:
Honky Tonkin': CD
Which brings us to the Mekons, a musically schizophrenic group who have earned one of the most devout followings of the post punk era. Honky Tonkin’, originally released in 1987 and re-issued here for the second time on a third label, helped cement the band’s reputation as one of the most creative bands of their day. This is, again, an album informed by American country as opposed to the simple aping of a musical style. Tracks like “I Can’t Find My Money” sound like outtakes from the Clash’s Sandanista and even the closest thing to a Johnny Cash track, “Hole in the Ground,” retains that peculiar English sound that prohibits it from getting into the dusty romanticism of classic Sun b-sides. That said, this is still one of the band’s best efforts and was their last stab at country rock, cowpunk, or whatever you want to call it (see their 1985 release Fear & Whiskey for more faithful interpretations). –eric (Quarterstick)


MEDLAR DOSS:
Demo: CDEP
I wanted to list them as “Medlar Dogs” because that’s kind of what the handwriting on the TDK CD looks like it says, but then I thought that might not be fair, like in the case that they might be websearching for reviews or something, so I spelled it right. Unfortunately, it’s bullshit grunt metal. –Cuss Baxter (no label)


MEAN REDS:
Self-Titled: CD
The LA Weekly referenced the Germs in their write up about these guys, so naturally my interest was piqued. While falling nowhere near that band musically (a more fitting comparison would’ve been to contemporaries the Ex Models), there is a spastic quality to their tunes that leads me to believe that their shows might get as anarchic as Darby’s long dead band once did. The Warner Bros. stamp on the outer case means they have major backing, and makes me wonder what the label was thinking when they signed these kids. Not that they are lousy, mind you, but they are an entirely different kinda cool, the kind that doesn’t get played on the radio religiously and sell millions of copies. –jimmy (Record Collection)


MAXIMUM RNR:
Self-Titled: CD
File this next to your Candy Snatchers and Nashville Pussy records. Oh wait, I don’t have any of those records. If you do, or if you like hard rock, you probably think this is okay. If this were a cereal, it’d be Fruity Pebbles. Some people like ‘em, I think they’re boring. –Maddy (self-released)


MANNEQUIN:
Warps Yr Head: CD
Having much in common with labelmates the Means, Mannequin grabs onto the noisy rock of days past and cranks out convincing homages to the likes of Bleach-era Nirvana, Dinosaur Jr, Helmet, and the rest of the Amphetamine Reptile roster. –Cuss Baxter (Reptilian)


MAD CADDIES:
Live from Toronto: Songs in the Key of Eh: CD
I was very friendly in the past in regards to this band. But why a live CD? That is such a hard sell for most people. Why didn’t Fat put this in their live series Live in a Dive? The case that I got the promo in is for a two-disc set. Is there another disc? Did I get gypped? –don (Fat)


LUDICRA:
Another Great Love Song: CD
This has got all the requisite components necessary to make a black metal album—fast parts, strangled cat vocals, classical influences, and an overblown, almost operatic sense of purpose—and they even add in a dash of 4AD shoegazer influence to give the proceedings a unique spin. Ultimately, however, this gets boring just as quickly as your average Century Media release. –thiringer (Alternative Tentacles)


LUCKY STIFFS, THE:
Today Will Follow You: CD
They call themselves Omni Punk—whatever the hell that is. Anyway, I guess Omni Punk means they sound just like a lot of other old punk bands you’ve heard. There are some musicians here, but they never came together as a group. I could stand to be surprised by more breakdowns like on the first track, “S.S. Shipwreck,” but the rest didn’t excite me. JasonK –Guest Contributor (Five-Dime)


LOST SOUNDS:
Future Sounds: 12" EP
What separates the Lost Sounds from the garage bands “experimenting with keyboards” hordes is their tight, weird, hard-wired science. Like a perfectly exposed photograph of a ‘50s monster laboratory, they’re sinister in a charming way. They’ve got a great sense of setting an atmosphere. Laboratory rats with smoking CPU chips stapled to their heads and nitroglycerine aural experiments bubble all around. Not far away, a flickering, overcharged Tesla coil of sound crackles and burns flashes of songs directly into the back of your brain like a polaroid. What keeps it all nice and non-ass is that the Lost Sounds are also all very tuneful, suggesting, perhaps, that there was more to glean from new wave’s first emergence in the ‘80s than I first surmised. It just had to be hammered into pieces and Frankenstein’d together by the right scientists. –todd (In the Red)


LOOKER:
...On the Pull: CDR
Equal parts Sleater-Kinney, Fuzzbox, and the Strokes is what I hear. Dual female vocals that compliment each other but are uniquely independent in sound. They are both sweet when singing together, but one’s vocals are definitely angrier than the other’s. Musically, they play a straight from the garage sound that is raw and very clean. From the five songs on the disc, “Jet Screams” is one song that stands out. It bears the most emotion and without sounding cliché. It could have been an early Go Go’s song. I’m interested in seeing what the future holds. –don (Looker)


LOGH:
The Contractor and the Assassin: CD
There are a lot of great bands coming out of Sweden right now. Unfortunately, this isn’t one of them. In fact, I’m not sure why I even got this in the first place. I’m thinking this CD was intended for some fancy art show in Europe. JasonK –Guest Contributor (Bad Taste)


LOCOMOTIONS, THE:
Teacher: 7"
Time to dance, you jerks! Although this record won’t blow you away, I bet you couldn’t resist twistin’ and shakin’ if your favorite punk rock DJ started playing it between bands at your basement show! Rock and roll dance music is go! If this were a cereal, it’d be Trix. Sugar! Energy! Punk rock! –Maddy (Big Neck)


LOBOS, LOS:
The Covers: CDEP
Okay, I’m going to do something that is tantamount to sacrilege where I come from, but the cover of Ruben Blades’ “Patria” on here is just plain bad. Granted, the original, a beautiful and moving explanation of what the concept of “homeland” means, is so damned good that even Blades himself would probably have trouble covering his own song, but the version here is particularly bad. There, I’ve done it. I’ve offered up the first negative comment I’ve EVER uttered against a band that is as sacred to me as Hüsker Dü, the Big Boys, the Blasters, Charlie Parker and Cuco Sanchez. Excuse me while I pop off and wash my mouth out with soap…. Okay, as I was saying, some mighty fine work is laid down here, with the soul-based covers of Bobby Womack and Thee Midnighters tunes really standing out, and the live run-through of the Blasters’ “Marie Marie” eliciting more than a little tail feather-shaking, but that cover of “Patria,” boy. Excuse me. Gotta kiss the Irish Spring again…. They manage to remain true to the original spirit of Elvis Costello and Tom Waits while infusing that patented Lobos groove to the proceedings and effectively turning what was old into something new. As with everything this band has so much as looked at, this is highly recommended. Just be sure to skip “Patria.” Uh, excuse me... –jimmy (www.hollywoodrecords.com)


LOBE:
In Aid of Swift Decisions: CDEP
1. Came with more stickers than songs. 2. Two basses and no regular guitar can work in lots of ways, but this isn’t one. 3. Worst pirate song ever. –Cuss Baxter (no label)


LEFTOVER CRACK:
Fuck World Trade: CD
For those who do not know, Leftover Crack is a NYC-based squatcore ska/death metal/hardcore/punk band with a lot of focused anger, formed from the ashes of Choking Victim. Here are my thoughts on their new CD: 1) Props for the bravery to have the cover art of the 9/11 attacks with Rumy, Cheney, and Bush pumping gas onto the flames. 2) Points added for lyric sheet as poster. 3) Points taken away for poster being an image framed by stencil-style slogans a la Crass and every similar band for almost thirty years now. It’s not too cliché to keep doing, just a step back for a band as innovative as LOC. 4) The first LOC album was functionally a remake of Choking Victim’s No Gods No Managers in many ways. Some expanded on concepts, some just provided a larger setlist. NGNM, in many ways, was just re-releasing of a lot of other CV songs but as well produced masterpieces instead of poorly recorded crap. Much of this album is furthering material from the first LOC album. This is not BAD per se; it’s similar to how small bands record their stuff over when they suddenly find their audience grow exponentially. 5) While I am all for the anti-Clear Channel stance, the mockery of Rancid is slightly odd—slightly, mind you—coming from a band who is playing in my town next week for a ten buck cover. 6) Any band/singer who makes a name for screaming should realize that singing might not be a good idea. 8) How the hell can LOC and World Inferno Friendship Society conspire and only create a pretty good song? That track should have blown me away! 9) “Operation M.O.V.E.” is a song that is made of smaller songs, one of which is kind of the LOC take on Ride the Lightning or Master of Puppets-era Metallica—pretty damn good, although this also reminds me of why I tend to associate LOC with System of a Down. 10) While this is in many ways better than most punk out there, it shows the mixed blessing of the band’s path—on one level, decent production suits them and allows Stza to do all the crazy stuff he wants to, but this album also has many hints of toning down of both pace and anger. 11) How I long for the day when I can see a great rally against corporate interests and government corruption that isn’t mixed in with “let’s get drunk and act like idiots.” –rich (Alternative Tentacles)


LEECHES, THE:
Integratron b/w Ghost Ship: 7"
They sporadically perform. They wear garbage sacks over their bodies like homeless people ponchos. Then they get fancy sometimes and duct tape the letter “L” on the front. At one point, I think, because they didn’t ever want to be considered a “real” band because it’d get too “serious” and that’d be a drag, there was a no releases code enforced. Luckily, that wasn’t the case. The Leeches play dented keyboard surf music. Imagine Vincent Price’s retarded sons on surfboards doing a cameo for a missing episode of “The Munsters Beach Blanket Bingo.” It’s ookey and spooky, campy instrumental fun. They also happen to be fantastic and spazzy live. –todd (Kapow)


LAZY COWGIRLS, THE:
I’m Goin’ Out and Get Hurt Tonight: CD
There’s a certain endearing, meat-and-potatoes quality to the Lazy Cowgirls. Like those they’ve influenced (Supersuckers, Streetwalkin’ Cheetahs, Speedbuggy) the ‘girls play ramblin’ country-esque punk rock that even your dad would enjoy if he had a few beers in him. And with every subsequent release, the band gets a little more ambitious, moving farther away from their balls-out, garage-burning meltdown interpretations of the 13th Floor Elevators and the Ramones. I’m Goin’ Out and Get Hurt Tonight is another step in that “respectable” direction which may be artistically satisfying for the band, but might be kinda pushin’ it with longtime fans. There’s still plenty of barnstormers, like the intro track “Burnin’ Daylight” and “Baby You Gotta Be Shittin’ Me.” Acoustic musings like “You Might Be Lost Now” and “The Risin’ Sun Over Naga-Gun” are as powerful as their most rocking numbers, replete with the lonely squawking of lead vocalist/guitarist Pat Todd’s harmonica. The band also takes the opportunity to re-write “Goddamn Bottle”—one of their finest early tracks—giving it that extra sheen that only a better recording budget can produce. –eric (Reservation)


LAST BURNING EMBERS:
Lessons in Redemption: CD
This reminds of a time in the mid-’80s when all the punkers began learning how to play their instruments and decided they wanted to be pop heroes instead of just screaming about how bad Reagan was over and over again for thirty minutes every night. Lots of creative guitar noodling and some nice hooks lodged here and there in the tunes, like sugared landmines. Dunno if it’d make its way into heavy rotation, but I do respect the work that was put in here and appreciate their efforts to create rather than ape the same old shit. –jimmy (Pink Frost)


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·DEPTH CHARGE REVOLT
·TERROR
·BIRTHDAY SUITS
·STRIKE ANYWHERE
·OSCARS, THE
·KICKASS, THE
·JAKE AND THE STIFFS
·EXPLODING BUFFALO Vol. 1, Issue IV
·CHEAP TRAGEDIES


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