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Below are some recently posted reviews.

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COACHWHIPS:
Peanut Butter and Jelly Live at the Ginger Minge: CD
The Scared of Chaka van, sans muffler, pre-Shins, yet full of cocaine and quasi-legal fireworks, leaves Albuquerque at 3:00 PM, MST travelling at an estimated 73 MPH, West on I-40. The Sonics van, circa when they were all alive, leaves the Northwest, and travels South on I-5 at 55 MPH. At what point do they crash into one another, because neither van has good brakes? Never, but the Coachwhips give their best musical interpretation of the event, down to the keyboards flying out the window and getting run over by a passing semi. And some underrated blues musician who never got his due and is known by neither you or I is killed in the wreckage (you can hear his guitar get smashed over and over again). It’s a mess that somehow works like a beautiful accident. (Recorded by former FM Knives badsnacks, Chris Woodhouse.) –todd (Narnack)


CHUCK LATENITE:
Clean Cut Disguise: CD
There are few things i approach more cheerlessly than the concept of putting up with a guy playing his acoustic guitar in public or on record. In the thankfully limited number of circumstances where i have been required to stand before some i-will-now-stand-here-and-play-my-acoustic-guitar-and-sing-and-you-will-now-listen-to-me-doing-it types, i always feel like i age about another fifteen years in the first two minutes: My feet immediately feel like they used to after eight hours of janitorial duties in work boots; my vertebrae start aching; my jacket gets twenty pounds heavier. If i sit down, the chair becomes uncomfortable. If i buy a drink, the drink becomes uncomfortable. My ass feels like i’ve just driven from New Jersey to Indiana without a piss break. I am, in so many words, “not really a fan.” Along comes Chuck Latenite. He sends me his “acoustic punk rock” album because—he claims—he has “rocked out” to records i have made (that’s possible?), and it would please him to know that i at least briefly “rocked out” to his. Okay, fair enough. “I just want to give that feeling a-rock-n-roll gave to me,” as Billy Idol once said (cutting himself in for the bonus plan afterwards). Virtually everything i have ever heard by a punk rock guy playing an acoustic guitar has been utter dogshit, granted, but at least i don’t have to stand and watch the guy play—i can pop the CD in the deck of my rigg™ and listen to it while i’m driving. That way, when my ass feels sore and stiff like i’ve been driving, i won’t know the difference. The first song is an instrumental, “Resin Party”—presumably Chuck’s attempt at birthing the acoustic equivalent of “Heatseeker.” I am more amused than put off: Whenever i see some dude playing songs on an acoustic guitar, they always do this one thing—whuh, whuh, whuh, chicka-wicka-wacka wuh-wuh—for what seems like an eternity—and here Mr. Latenite has gone and based his entire opening salvo on—you guessed it—whuh, whuh, whuh, chicka-wicka-wacka wuh-wuh. Well, fine. Guy plays good, anyway. I drive along as the album continues. It soon becomes clear that Chuck is a purist, who appears to believe in a grand total of Four Things: 1. Getting drunk; 2. Getting high; 3. Lust; 4. Rock & Roll. That’s it. Fuck Twinkies™, fuck Jeeps™, fuck oyster crackers, he’s got his four components of life and everything else is unworthy of comment (although he does take a bit of a detour into 5. Math, but i view this diversion as merely a tool used to further facilitate #3). A number of songs pass. It begins to strike me that not only is Chuck’s acoustic guitar playing not uninteresting, his voice is really cool as well. He’s got it reverb-drenched and mixed down under the guitars, so he sounds like some street-smart but otherwise mildly retarded Elvis/Gene/Lux type, darkly percolating away while never hiccupping anything much more potentially charismatic than “I get drunk to rock ‘n’ roll / I smoke pipe to rock ‘n’ roll.” Amazingly, no matter how venereal the subject matter gets—doggy-styling “white girls without tattoos,” et al—things never come off with an obnoxious swagger, because the guy is NOT singing about drinking and fucking and rocking and getting high in order to yell “HEY! LOOK AT ME! I’M DRINKING AND FUCKING AND ROCKING AND GETTING HIGH!”, but is, in fact, offering a humble and heartfelt hosanna of praise to HIS GODS AND MASTERS. It is fucking completely pure. COMPLETELY. But, then again, y’know, it IS still one guy beating on an acoustic guitar, and, as indicated, i don’t have much faith in the medium. But then—stunningly, as these things tend to be—there is the Unforeseen Moment of Divine Greatness: “I Want You To Be My Girl.” Lyrics in toto: “I want you to be my girl, yeah I want you to be my girl, I want you to be my girl tonight.” One voice singing, one guitar beating out a trip-hammer neo-Leg Hounds rhythm, one guitar playing wild-ass acoustic leads off said rhythm. Rinse, lather, repeat. Fucking PERFECT (to all those whom i routinely denigrate for writing shit-simple but imperfect songs: Please take note of how, in a song that uses NINE WORDS total, the artist is actually able to convey a relatively broad [sorta] range of feeling by subtly placing the word “want” on the stressed first syllable of the first two lines, but locating the word “I” on that same syllable in the last line. That’s why HE’S Chuck Latenite, and you’re just squares with electric guitars who couldn’t even hold serve for rock ‘n’ roll against the guys with the backwards baseball caps and turntables!). Chuck Latenite, if you are not THE SHIT, then you are, at minimum, the well-masticated contents of the small intestine which, given enough time and the kindly intercession of the right manner of bacteria, are slated to one day become The Shit. I am currently rethinking my stance on the acoustic guitar as a worthwhile implement of rocking, as well as pondering the general outmodedness of musics requiring cumbersome amplification devices and such. I can say no more at present. BEST SONG: duh, pay attention, asshole. BEST SONG TITLE: I dunno, but the best line is “A hundred squared is what? Probly like ten thousand? I’m so blues that I live in public housing!” from “Low Number Blues” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: This dude must really love The Rock ‘n’ Roll if he actually figured out the words to “Right Now” by Teengenerate! –norb (Braindead)


CHI-PIG:
Miami: CD
I’m sitting here shaking my head and wondering who told this band they should record this shit. Sing-song, cheesy pop with a Primus-like bass line, although apparently this was released in the late ‘70s, so I guess you could say about Primus, “…annoying Chi-Pig bass lines.” As if you needed more reason to stay away, they have a song called “Stinking Skin Sac (Involuntary Body Functions).” Art rock… {{shiver}} –kat (Chi-Pig)


CHAINSAW:
We Are Not Very Nice: CD
Yeah, well, you’re not very good either, so i guess it’s a horse apiece. One school of thought in the gnarled tapestry of ‘70s punk was that if one were to take the Hard Rock of the day, forcibly remove all its virtuosity, pomposity and pretty-boy-osity and replace said distastefully effete quanta with vileness, aggression, and “attitude,” the result would be, like, punk rock, and we would be good to go, forever and ever, Amen. It’s not really my place to pass judgment either way on what people in bands in the ‘70s thought was “punk” or not, but i will state that the notion of Punk Rock as Hard Rock’s sleazy underground cousin has never been one i’ve been overly keen to embrace. There are some decent moments here (most notably the deliciously crude “Polaride Pictures” and the faux-live material [including a serviceable run-through of “No Fun” and, best of all, canned applause!]), but, all in all, this band sounds a little too much like an outfit who would’ve shared the bill with the Sleaze Sisters in that Times Square movie for my Stripes, Chucks ‘n’ Spikes tastes. I wonder if they ever played any shows with that band called Blitzkrieg Bop? BEST SONG: “Polaride Pictures” BEST SONG TITLE: “Polaride Pictures” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: “Baker’s Dozen” is not track thirteen. –norb (Dionysus)


BUTCHERS’ ORCHESTRA, THE:
Stop Talking about Music: CD
Voodoo Rhythm stuff often falls in either the "hit" or "miss" bins for me, but every once in a while something manages to straddle the fence between the two. Such is the case here. This is pretty standard garage rock fodder, aided in delivery by Tim Kerr's production skills. It ain't bad, but nothing about it really stands out, either. Plop it on the stereo and it'll work fine as background music. –jimmy (Voodoo Rhythm)


BRISTLE:
30 Blasts from the Past: CD
This is the whole discography of a Seattle based street/gutter punk band. I’ve heard worse gutter bands. I’m sure some crusty, train-hopping patch punks would appreciate some of this. At best, it’s just fucking rehashed shit, though. I prefer the Germs or Quincy Punx. Every guitar solo sounds the same and the lyrics are kind of steakheaded. They do have a song about Lake Union Pub in Seattle. I’ve been there once, that bar sucks, too. –Buttertooth (Rodent Popsicle)


BOMBSHELL ROCKS:
Love for the Microphone: CDEP
An acoustic song is no way to start off what otherwise is a pretty damn good little CD. Bombshell Rocks has been around since about '96 and have consistently put out quality records. They never disappoint. It's just if you are going to put out only six songs, why waste one track by making it acoustic, let alone starting the CD off with it? Skip track one and you have an EP to listen to over and over again. –toby (Combat Rock)


BOB BURNS AND THE BREAKUPS:
C-Store, Baby!: 7"
Man, Milwaukee has got some awesome shit going on right now. I dunno for sure if these guys are from Milwaukee, but it's on Dingus so I'm guessing they are. Six songs of driving, hyperactive punk that occasionally drifts into garageland. I get the feeling they're better live, but this record still seems to be a pretty good document for this band. I just wish they'da put more info in the record. –ben (Dingus)


SCENT OF HUMAN HISTORY/MEMORY AS PERFECTION:
Split: LP
Memory as Perfection plays mediocre screamo with kinda wimpy-sounding guitars. They cite Page 99 and Shotmaker as influences, and they definitely draw heavily from both bands, but unfortunately don't add anything of their own, and the end result is not insincere, but pretty uninspired. Scent of Human History's side starts off a bit slow, but as the record progresses it gets better. I hear a lot of Maximillian Colby and the Exploder in here, with some nice fast parts a la early ‘90s Ebullition stuff. It's not bad. Overall, this record seems almost like an homage to days past, more than a document of anything new. –ben (Waking Records/Mccarthyism)


SATAN’S TEARDROPS/LEGENDARY HUCKLEBUCKS:
Split: CD

Happily unleashed on Rock N Roll Purgatory, Satan's Teardrops (New Hampshire) and the Legendary Hucklebucks (Pittsburgh) team up to spew punka/rocka/psychobilly en masse. Standard three-chord punkabilly, Satan's Teardrops (new school) really bang the blower (no, not good) with a rickety version of "Crazy Crazy Lovin'" and an uncomfortable cover of "Shame On Me." However, they drop the hammer (good) on their last two chances to impress: "Dark City Lights" and a beyond rockin' rendition of "I Got Stripes." Those two songs are glimmers of hope that maybe the band could always be that good, despite their foul start. Conversely, real punk, real psycho and real 'billy, the Legendary Hucklebucks blister right off the line and all the way down the track, flattening everything in range with a "Hell yeah!" as loud as 315 mph. As exciting and inspiring as Blazing Haley, but with a healthy dollop of East Coast muscle. Artwork by a legend.

–thiringer (Rock N Roll Purgatory)


SAFE INSIDE:
Self-titled: 7”
This little record—packed with fourteen midget-sized songs—reminds me of Henri Pougard, a Frenchman famous in fighting arts circles for his “Parisian Halitotic Attack” whereby he could render a man unconscious with nothing more than his own rancid hell breath. I love Safe Inside’s asshair-burning brevity and shriek-core intensity, but it all kind of sounds the same to me, no matter how many song-like bursts you cram on this little piece of vinyl. –aphid (Black Matter)


ROGER MIRET & THE DISASTERS:
1984: CD

Admittedly, they look like scary motherfuckers and could stomp me in a heartbeat. Admittedly, Roger Miret has been around since, well, before 1984. Admittedly, the Hellcat design lackey that did the album art definitely knows how to use InDesign. But these things do not necessarily a listenable or enjoyable record make, you know? I mean, I have some serious fucking problems with this piece of sonic catshit, even apart from the fact that at its core it's essentially a third-rate streetpunk record that wouldn't have been interesting two decades ago. Miret is apparently still flying the same street-thug bonehead flag that he's been flying for the past twenty-five years, if the lyrics are any indication. Openly homophobic since his early Agnostic Front days, he's still spewing the same tired old shit, with meditative, thoughtful lyrical gems like, "Suck another dick! Kiss another ass! How's your bed feel? You pathetic bitch!" Other lyrics are so blatantly similar to Clash, Ramones, and Rancid lines that you can't tell if Miret is doing some weird homage to them or if he's just really at a loss when it comes to writing songs about anything other than fighting, rioting and, uh, fighting. Miret's supposed legacy, to me, is questionable at best, considering the narrow-minded, arrogant, violent, homophobic, sexist lifestyle he's spent fucking years espousing, and when the music has about as many hooks as a sheet of Saran-Wrap, the lyrics sound like they were culled from a second-grade English primer, and in the liner notes they thank three clothing companies for the sweet hookups, it's painfully apparent that the time has come for the guy to just hang it up.

–keith (Hellcat)


RIVER CITY TANLINES:
Black Night: 7”
Alicja (Lost Sounds) side project, sorta sped up early ‘80s rock Bo Diddley descendant, with production. Damned plucky. Feels like fun should. –mike (Misprint)


RITALINS:
Kelly: 4-song 7" EP
I hope the person who wrote the verses to the title track and the person who wrote the choruses to the title track are two different people and that the guy who wrote the choruses kicks the guy who wrote the verses out of the band before their next record. I'm pretty sure the band did not need to write "I Wanna Be an Aper." I'm CERTAIN that i did not need to listen to it. Weaselcore of such tightness and nasality that it would not only make Timbo from Mutant Pop crap his pants, it would make him crap his pants through his penis. BEST SONG: Well, "Kelly" if that one guy kicks out the other guy and re-writes the verses. BEST SONG TITLE: "I Wanna Be an Aper." Yeah, think about THAT. FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: Band uses empty set in lieu of zero in "2ØØ2" and "2ØØ3." –norb (All Nite)


RIPPERS, THE:
Invertebrät: CD
Were one to ogle the front cover, one might think that the red hand-snipped (hand-polygoned?) letters of the band name and the f'ed-up-typewriter lettering of the album title and the kinda Butthole Surfers-album-cover critter thereupon portended a good time for the listener (and that's not even factoring in the umlaut). This would be incorrect. This is metal-punk and thus without value. Good day. BEST SONG: Jeez, it's a real toss-up between "God Is Mortal" and "Don't Fear the End" BEST SONG TITLE: I can't bear to leave any out, they're all so wonderful. FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: Before the first band i was ever in played out, i wanted us to call ourselves "The Rippers." Hope these guys are all fifteen, too. –norb (H)


RIGHTEOUS JAMS:
Rage of Discipline: CD
When I saw the little Kung Fu logo on the back, I figured listening to this was going to be one painfully bad experience. Surprise, surprise, my assumption was right on the money. –jimmy (Kung Fu)


REGULARS, THE:
Vegas: CD
All the way from Holland, another rockabilly band that sounds pretty much like every other one on the block. And why would you affect Southern accents if you already have your own wacky accent? This isn’t reggae. Oh, and they cover “Ring of Fire,” which was a very bad choice if they actually liked Johnny Cash. –megan (Rebellion)


RED ALERT:
Excess All Areas: CD
Nice enough poppy oi from a band that’s been around forever. While the songs aren’t as immediately crucial as some of their previous work has been, and I ain’t too hip on the metal guitars that seep in here and there, I wholly appreciate the substantive lyrics that accompany the riffage, something that is lacking much too often in punk rock anymore. If yer a fan, you won’t be disappointed. If you haven’t heard ’em, I recommend you start with The Best of Red Alert and proceed from there. –jimmy (Captain Oi)


RAT BASTARDS:
Subvert and Deny: 7”
Breathless, strep-throat hardcore with tonsils popping everywhere like pans of Jiffy Pop popcorn. Equal parts crust, speed metal, and hundred-percent bilious contempt for everything on God’s green earth. Ripping good. Fun fact for logo buffs: the Rat Bastards logo is sort of a cross between the classic Dead Kennedys’ DK logo and something hanging in the woods in the Blair Witch Project and it looks like it was made with pretzel rods wrapped in hair. Neat. –aphid (Kangaroo)


PSEUDO HEROES:
Nostalgic Lies…: CDEP
At nine songs, this is the fattest EP this side of Star Jones’ wedding dress. Featuring Sam Williams III (Down By Law, Electro-Requiem) on guitar, keyboards, and vocals; Kevin Coss (Pink Lincolns) on bass and Carlos Collins on drums, this band has the chops to bring the rock. “Open Your Eyes & I’ll Close Mine” sports some sweet BOC type guitar and some powerhouse drumming by Collins. The title track has some nice bass blocks that give the song an English Beat type rhythm—very cool. “A Judgement Supreme” goes for broke and gives Minor Threat a run for their money. “Borrowed Bonds” features the more melodic side of the band—you’ll be humming this one for days. Have I mentioned every song yet? Okay—I’m high on Pseudo Heroes-so sue me! –koepenick (Double Bonus/123)


PRIDEBOWL:
Drippings of the Past: CD
I guess this is a reissue, as it says it was originally released in 1996. Having realized that, this makes a lot more sense. It's melodic Swedish snowboardy punk with the mid-‘90s sound of Fat Wreck bands like Lagwagon. It's not bad, it's not good, it's just kinda there. I don't understand why anyone would sink money into re-releasing this in 2005. It's ten years old and it sounds like it. I guess if I had been there back in the day I might like this more, but I wasn't. So I don't. –ben (Bad Taste)


PONYS, THE:
Celebration Castle: CD
Indie pop from a group that has apparently learned well from those old post-punk pop albums from the ‘80s, ’cause that’s where it sounds like they’re taking their cues. Not a rehash here, but there’s just enough Echo, Cure, and Furs in the mix to ring familiar. Surprisingly good stuff and outside of the box enough to sound fresh and inventive. I like it lots. –jimmy (In the Red)


PNEUMONIAS, THE:
Self-titled: 7” EP
Thuddy garage punk, very Loli and the Chones/Rip Off Records. Songs are approximately twice the length they need to be, but this’ll do the trick in a pinch. –jimmy (High School Refuse)


PLASTIC FANTASTICS, THE:
Self-titled: CD
Sounds like about eighty percent Nine Inch Nails and twenty percent Wall of Voodoo. Those are amazing figures. Actually, i just made them up. BEST SONG: "God Damn Radio." BEST SONG TITLE: Either "God Damn Radio" or "Sorry I Killed You" FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: Mastered by John Golden! Oh my God! Oh my God! –norb (DNA Productions)


PITCH BLACK:
This Is the Modern Sound: CD
This goes in kinda sounding like (International) Noise Conspiracy and comes out kinda sounding like the Murder City Devils. I am a little wary of this record. The artwork is really "pro" and the whole thing comes across looking like a Target commercial. The music's not bad, just a little contrived. I kinda get the feeling this band wants to "make it," and that kinda makes me not like them. I don't trust 'em. –ben (Revelation)


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·EXIT CONDITION
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