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Record Reviews

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EARTHLESS:
Sonic Prayer: CDEP
Dude! Bust out the bong! I got the killer weed and I’m ready to kick back and listen to two twenty-minute jams by this band! It’s like Led Zeppelin all over again! –don (Gravity)


DYNAMITE CLUB:
It’s Deeper than Most People Actually Think: CD
A schizophrenic hodge-podge of disparate styles mooshed together, resulting in a series of songs that all sound like unfinished musical ideas channeled through someone with ADD. I’m all for experimentation, but there’s an air of pretentiousness to this that makes it sound like nothing more than the musically proficient showing off how goofy and hip they can be, which kills off any cool points this may have garnered for being off the beaten path. –jimmy (Funhole)


DUPLEX:
Album: CD
The members of a grade school and high school play got together in one room, made up some stuff (rapidly), pushed the record button and let the tape roll for about an hour. That’s probably not exactly what happened, but it sure as hell sounds like it. With such musical numbers entitled “Salad Song,” “Multiplication Treehouse,” and “Heatin’ Up the Milk,” it’s easy to pass this one up—unless, of course, you’re shopping for your five-year-old niece. FYI, this recording was “…made possible through the assistance of the Canada Music Fund and the Music Section of the Canada Council for the Arts.” Canada should seek a refund. –kat (Mint)


DRIVEWAY SPEEDING:
Reasons Are Not Answers: CDEP
Through the years I have really latched onto certain labels, Crackle being one of them. Even with genres that I might not like, they have released bands that I enjoy. I feel like they have a kindred spirit with my taste in music. A new band out of the UK, this band has members from bands that I have enjoyed from the past like Servo (who are incredible!) and Ohno Express. I have heard references to Leatherface thrown around. I can’t use that one. I have no releases from said band and have made no effort on my part to listen to them. I have seen them once live. But what I do know is that these guys know how to keep things mellow but write some great songs with a good sense of melody. While keeping things on the raw side, the magic of the music carries the flag in a bold manner. Like later period Hüsker Dü and what I know of the Replacements, this band play a melodic rock that has enough elements of punk to keep me satisfied. –don (Crackle)


DR. FRESH:
Check In: LP
No titles, no actual songs per se, just a collection of beats and breaks. If I were a DJ I’d be pleased as punch. As a listener, it’s pretty boring. –jimmy (Intricate)


DR. CHUD'S X-WARD:
Diagnosis for Death: CD
I remember the day I gave up on the Misfits. I was sitting in a diner, wrestling was on the TV, and I saw Jerry Only and Doyle gleefully squirting ketchup and mustard on a fallen bad guy. That was it; the Misfits jumped the shark. Dr. Chud, former drummer of the new Misfits, is the physical incarnation of said shark jumping. Completely riding on his "fame" of being the drummer for a reformed band that was basically a parody of itself, he put together this atrocious CD of the most boring, run-of-the-mill bar rock I've ever heard. It doesn't sound like the Misfits. It doesn't sound like anything. Maybe a little bit like Alice in Chains, but a busted bunch-of-forty-year-old-constructon-workers-that-jam-with-their-buddies-on-weekends-style Alice in Chains. Sorry Doc, crappy songs with lyrics about Frankensteins and stuff are still just crappy songs. I hereby give this album the ultimate dis! It sucks! –ben (Bloodwork)


DOWNBEAT 5, THE:
Victory Motel: CD
...boy, i dunno. As much as i liked what i heard off the first album, and as much as i am inclined to believe that J.J. Rassler generally does good work, all i hear here (note clever Hollies reference) is—quote me on this—A BUNCH OF ROCK (the band is welcome to take this as a compliment, though it was not intended as such). I mean, if the Paybacks are AC/DC—and who's to say they're not?—then the Downbeat 5 are now April Wine. Great. We'll call you when we need another favor, or a theme for homecoming or something. This situation is hardly helped by the inclusion of a way-too-Blondie Shangri-La's number, "Out in the Streets," but, suddenly! Without prior notification! At the exact moment that one would assume the vinyl equivalent of the CD would commence side two (well, okay, there's ten songs. I figure "side two" starts on track 6. If you fault my math, show me yours), the record, shockingly, stops sucking. The band abruptly drops the loathsome and undistinguished "A BUNCH OF ROCK" bit, and resumes the high energy, sweet 'n' crunchy r’n’r hijinx of their earlier efforts with "Army of One," following it up with a second (?!) Shangri-La's cover, this time "Dum Dum Ditty," a song far more to my liking than the semi-retarded "Out in the Streets" (exactly. "Dum Dum Ditty" is superior to "Out in the Streets" because "Out in the Streets" is semi-retarded, and "Dum Dum Ditty" is ALL THE WAY retarded. You know me too well, Montresor!). These two resounding avengements of the first side's unmeasurable shititude are followed by "Lonesome Town," a cool cover ballad whose origins i cannot place, and another quality original ("Climbin' the Walls"), but the last song is a repeat dose of the Rock Dross of the first side, and thusly cannot be abided. All i can think of is that this band saw the Paybacks, marveled (understandably) at their greatness, and, in their youthful (er...) vigor, attempted a sort of ill-advised emulation that they will, in due time, look back upon with proper embarrassment. Please record another album when you are feeling better. BEST SONG: "Dum Dum Ditty" BEST SONG TITLE: "Dum Dum Ditty" FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: The Imperial 400 Motel—depicted on the top of the album's back cover—stands (albeit in more dilapidated form), to this day, directly across the street from my PO Box. Once, me and Michael Lucas hung out there and watched Dan Quayle give a speech to a bunch of farmers in Iowa on TV. It was fun. –norb (Abbey Lounge)


DOLLYROTS, THE:
Eat My Heart Out: CD
Eat My Heart Out is bursting at the seams with an assault of yeah-yeahs, crunching guitars, heavy handclaps, and soaring, sugary harmonies. Able to melt tired punk rock hearts in a single bound! L.A.’s version of Sahara Hotnights got me to love them forever and it only took an instant. –kat (Panic Button)


DISTRICT:
Don: CD
Neither as good as i'd hoped nor as bad as i'd feared, District are that kinda vaguely melodic, vaguely streety Britpunk that i associate with not-terribly-essential bands like Chron Gen and The Adicts (although, to be fair, there's only one Brit in the band, the rest are Germans—which, i suppose, makes it Germpunk), who, if you'd like me to break it down into terms of purely American bands, sound like a cross between Pariah and Rancid with Joey Vindictive's younger, healthier brother on vocals. They hit the relative bullseye a few times ("I Crisis"), but, for the most part, this material strikes me as being too secretly derived from ‘70s rock (one'd think perhaps the album's title being spelled out across the knuckles of the band members on the cover a la Slade's Slayed? LP [well, ok, that wasn't the album title, that was the band name, but you know what i mean] might've been a tip-off)—instead of having that nice, constant, headlong momentum of punk, the guitars are always going BAAA-BAAA-BAAA, and the drums are going BISH-BISH-BISH along with the guitars, the beats of the songs are always getting broken up and interrupted by these sort of punctuations and choreograph-ations and orchestrations—it's like those longer songs on the second Clash album ("All the Young Punks [New Boots and Contracts]" and "Last Gang in Town" are the ones i'm thinking of)—the structure of the songs just seems pointlessly dramatic (although District is pointlessly dramatic much more rapidly than the Clash were). Basically, it seems like there was a lot of thought put into the music on this record (which is cool) but there really wasn't that much legitimate inspiration behind it—you know, the kind of inspiration that possesses a man to run home and bash out "New Rose" or "Nervous Breakdown" with little or no advance warning. Oh well, at least they have the writing-on-the-knuckles schtick; i'm queer for that in a big bad way. BEST SONG: "I Crisis" BEST SONG TITLE: "No Heart" ...if you're the Vibrators. FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: "DON'T MESS WITH THE HARD PUNKS" is the longest string of alphanumeric characters i have ever seen written across human knuckles. I think the previous front-runner was "ELWOOD." –norb (I Used To Fuck People Like You In Prison)


DISSIMILARS, THE:
Jimmy’s Room: 7”
I reviewed this band’s demo a while back and I said that I couldn’t wait for them to put out some vinyl. Now I don’t have to wait anymore. And, while it’s inexplicably lacking in Venom and Flag of Democracy riffs, it’s still great, fuzzy, bopping garage rock that sounds pretty much like all those great bands that came out of the Southwest in the mid-‘90s like the Drags, the Inhalants, and the Motards. It may seem like a disservice to compare them to so many other bands, but with this kind of stuff, there’s not really anything new. However, I am pretty burned out on the we-used-to-love-the-Infections-but-now-we-love-Sonic-Youth stuff and it’s awesome to know that bands are still playing this kind of simple, straightforward punk rock with those catchy guitar parts that we can whistle to ourselves while we clean the pool at the YMCA. And I hear they’re straight edge. –Josh (Out of Order)


DISORDER:
The Riot City Years: CD
An assortment of early tracks from the series of EPs the band put out on Riot City back in the ‘80s, which translates into twenty tracks of primitive, blissfully sloppy UK punk that essentially mines the same territory as early Discharge and, especially, the equally crucial Chaos UK—no frills, no metal, just pure, balls to the wall, noisy as hell hardcore. –jimmy (Step-1 Music)


DISENGAGE:
Application for an Afterlife: CD
First off, the facts. 1) Derek Hess cover. 2) Nice packaging. 3) Musically, picture Tool and Boy Sets Fire in a swinging-dick contest. 4) This CD includes a video in which "action shots" of the band, like, rocking out are interspersed with shots of some dude scribbling over anatomical drawings while a blonde woman, wearing what is commonly referred to as a wifebeater, throws wads of paper at him. Then she gives him a grenade. That sort of vapidity permeates the entire record, and I'm left with a really, really bad feeling about this band. Lyrically, I know it's often difficult to bridge the chasm between obscurity and obviousness, but these dudes just go all the way for obscurity. I honestly don't know what they're shooting for here. I mean, in the song "District 2 Electric Boogaloo" the guy sings, "Baby cars but beat your babies, don't get priorities straight/ Bingo stars, they cut in line, celebrities to the extreme/ Are you Ghetto or Gummo?" and, "The church is packed; the windows are still cracked/ Time to forgive, use that change you found last night/ It's time to eat, hungry mouths will complain/ So meet and greet, you're all scum, you should get along." What the fuck is that? Vapid shit like that is all over the place on this record—are these guys really saying that inner-city churchgoers are "scum?” That in the ghetto, everyone has nice cars but beat the shit out of their kids? I mean, I'm not the quickest whip in town, but I'm not dumb either, and I really can't tell what they're getting at. I assume the song "Bruise" is about the aftermath of September 11, but I can't tell if they're honestly claiming they want to see "two towers climbing." Do they really feel that we should "return the bodies to loving families and start rebuilding immediately?” And I'm sure a lot of folks in Afghanistan would be thrilled and relieved to know that 9/11 was simply "another crisis (that has been) put out to pasture." In "Cover the Globe,” are they lamenting or applauding the "slaughter" of "faith-based programs?” There are a hundred other sketchy examples throughout this record—if they're shooting for a tongue-in-cheek, "devil's advocate" sort of lyrical attack, they missed the mark by being way too fucking vague. And if they're sincere, it just goes to show you that even dipshit Republicans go to tattoo shops. –keith (Fractured Transmitter)


DIRTBOMBS:
Merit b/w Mystified (Version): 7”
Mick Collins’ got stank. On “Merit,” he’s got the panty-wetting growl, the smoke and assurance voice of a man who knows where he stands: tall, in charge, and proud. And when you play anything flirting with soul and rock, like the Dirtbombs do, they gotta make you—the listener—to want to get hip-wigglin’ stinky. They gotta bring the gospel, to spread both the word and legs. On this song, they’re Booker T and the MG’s precise (their meticulousness just further sharpens their blade) and I’ve if there’s any justice in this world, Otis Redding’s smiling down in their direction from above. The b-side is a dub reggae song. Starts off sounding like tugboats in the mist and then there’s a lot of reverb. I’ll be playing the a-side a ton. –don (Kapow)


DIRTBOMBS, THE:
If You Don’t Already Have a Look: 2 x CD
There are few current bands that can look so sweepingly and non-ironically into the past, specifically at the roots of soul and rock’n’roll, and not only do it justice, but plant a new flag in its ass. The Dirtbombs’ deep love of music that moves is obvious. The two CDs are separated into originals and covers—fifty-two (!) tracks in all. I don’t have a favorite CD, and that’s another element that makes them so special. I appreciate their own take on what a modern band can do with such a rich history to tap from, but, man, I also love the fact that they cover such a wide umbrella of music that wouldn’t or couldn’t be covered by a less adventurous and confident band. Cheater Slicks, Smokey Robinson, Flipper, Gun Club, Soft Cell, The Ohio Players, and the English Beat are all given the treatment in such a way that it’s easy to come to the conclusion, “Shit, I never thought of listening to them like that. Maybe I should re-listen. I must have missed something.” And whenever a band is that strong, you know they’re onto something big. The Dirtbombs make so many other bands sound puny. –todd (In the Red)


DIALS, THE:
Sick Times: CDEP
Falling somewhere between 1960s mod (is that a Farfisa?) and 1990s riot grrrl, the songs are jagged, angular, busted beer bottles of music. They’re loose, simple, and raw, sounding like people figuring out how to play instruments while writing songs in a garage, unfettered by ideas of how something should be done and, instead, creating what sounds good. That isn’t to say that this sounds amateurish, merely that it reminds me of early punk bands creating in a vacuum of interest when the possibilities were still open and the horizons of what a band could do hadn’t been narrowed by commercial prospects. –scott (www.thedials.us)


DESTRUX:
Enter the Thrash Kick: CDEP
While this would be considered by many to be fairly generic thrashy hardcore and even though it sounds like it was recorded in someone's laundry room, it won me over with its unbridled energy and catchiness. I also like how they manage to attack “the system” and support “the system” simultaneously, like in this line: “we thrash the system and all the things we hate but we like to do rad things too, like drink Coke, play Nintendo, and we like to skate.” Product placement and punk always go great together. So is this a Good Clean Fun type of put-on or are these really just half-witted teenagers obsessed with skating and attacking/supporting giant corporations? I guess it doesn’t matter to me, because I have entered the thrash kick and I like it, whether their heads really are up their asses or not. –aphid (Blood Money)


DESTRUX:
Enter the Thrash Kick: 7”
Samurai swords, attacking ninjas, and a meditating kung fu master fill the cover. My initial thought was: This is goin’ to suck sumthin’ fierce! Surprisingly, I don’t hate it. Thrashy hardcore, with songs about skating, wanting to be left alone, and finding a sense of individuality, all done with a fat sense of humor. Not typically what I listen to, but good enough to warrant a few more spins on the ol’ Victrola. –benke (Punks Before Profits)


DEMON CITY WRECKERS:
Inner Demons: CD
I rolled my eyes. A psychobilly/punk band with a blank-city-noun name. What will they sing about? Aliens, zombies, necromancy, surfing on Mars, and maybe a murder or two after a trip to the asylum? Au contraire, this is good. Really good. Not perfect, but they will be—and soon. This Tucson foursome is creepy but not campy, disturbed but not mental, deeply pained and tightly wound. Their pressure-cooker steam is slowly relieved—a controlled explosion, a slow burn, cathartic. Vocally reminiscent the Murder City Devils, the Demon City Wreckers blow past the pretentiousness of the usual RAB/psycho outfits while still incorporating the expected elements—a steady rhythm section (the stand-up player actually knows more than one bass line), metallic guitar, and heady, emotive vocals, albeit a bit strained at times. But it works. Deep, throaty, rumbling, tight, and mesmerizing from numerals I to X. Catchy and rockin' on "Left for Dead," driving and pounding on "Inner Demons" and fantastically "Love You to Death"-esque (Meteors) on "Thirty-ninth and Norton," presumably the homicide song. ("The sun came up today, as I drove away, I think they just found out about me. Blood stains on dirty sheets, rolled up in my back seat.") Should they be graced with fortitude (and better production), they'll be around blasting your ears for years. My kind of rockin'. –thiringer (Psychobilly US)


DEATH BY STEREO:
Death for Life: CD
DBS continue to be one of my favorite bands that wear the Pantera and Iron Maiden flag on their sleeves, refusing to give a rat’s fat ass what you or anyone else thinks of them. Way talented and way heavy, DBS have proven record after record that they can and will play circles around most of those craptacular bands screen printed on back of that OzzFest T-shirt you had to spend two months worth of your lunch money on. Punk rock spirit with a full dose of metal up your ass. And that’s good metal, not that hair band pose ‘n wank shitty pap metal. Metal that bassists Lemmy Kilmister and Tom Araya have christened us with. Choice cuts here to mow your car through Korn and Slipknot’s merch stands are “This Curse of Days,” “Middle Fingers,” and “Binge/Purge.” The Torrez is fully backing the DBS, so that alone should get your ass in gear. Viva DBS! Viva Torrez! YL in the house! –dale (Epitaph)


DEADLY, THE:
The Wolves Are Here Again: CD
Competently crafted and produced metallic screamo hardcore. While “These Are Cherry Blossoms” breaks into a stellar melodic bridge which combines the usual chaos of the genre with something resembling a hook, this record strikes me as an average representation of the style. If you’re a newcomer to screamo or metallic hardcore, I wouldn’t suggest starting here. –scott (Pluto)


DEADBOLT:
Haight Street Hippie Massacre: CD
Proudly "Made in USA," this 2003 retrospective thoughtfully covers all eras of Deadbolt's arguably productive career. Includes staples like "Who the Hell is Mrs. Valdez?" "Tiki Man," "Hit Gone Wrong" and "Truck Driving SOB." Tossed in for good measure are several previously unreleased tracks: "I Saw the King," "Go Tell Alice," "Edie," and "Listen to the Message." For added value, a cover of Burt Bacharach's "Rain Drops Keep Falling on My Head" has been tacked on at the end. Dedicated fans worldwide have had most of this material for quite some time, but newcomers will appreciate the comprehensive peek down in the lab, especially since the liner notes include a complete roster of everyone who has ever been in or with the band. Remorsefully, some of my favorite songs aren't included: "The Day I Got My Spine Back,” "Slap," "Creepy and Weird," and "Twang Zombie." –thiringer (Cargo)


DEAD CELEBRITIES:
Cleanup on Aisle: CD
After a six-year run as one of the premier bands on the St. Louis punk scene, the Dead Celebrities broke up in early 2005. This album, the group’s only full-length studio release, is a memorable mix of fury and humor. Guitarist Elvis Kennedy creates jaggedly powerful riffs and John Paul Nixon is a standout drummer. The band’s sound bears a resemblance to the music of the UK Subs and the Skulls, and vocalist Sid Sinatra is a witty voice of exasperation. The first song on the album is “Bail,” a breakneck hardcore rant about a disagreement with a policeman. The track would make a worthy pairing with T.S.O.L’s “Anticop” on a punk compilation album about law enforcement. (There’s an idea.) “Sweet Love Song” moves at equally high speed and is probably Cleanup’s funniest track, with its mock-angry chorus of “Your ugly baby shoulda been mine.” Fittingly, the song with the most anthemic chorus, “Dead Celebrities,” is also the most tongue-in-cheek. It may also be the only piece of music to reference Winston Churchill, John Holmes, and Moe from The Three Stooges. Sinatra’s vocal meltdowns and ironic lyrics are equally strong, and the music is infectious throughout. As this album shows, the Dead Celebrities played smart-assed punk at its finest. –Chris Pepus (Fat Fish)


DEAD BETTIES:
Summer of 93: CD
Given the band name and the album title, I fully expected some lame pop punk tripe. What I got was skronky noise punk. I guess sometimes you really can’t judge a book by its cover. –jimmy (Heartcore)


DE STIPJES:
Feel Lucky Hippy?: 7”
Two tunes on a one-sided single, both of ’em pretty much Rip Off punk fodder. They ain’t bad tunes, but there’s nothing that really causes them to stand out. –jimmy (Rockin’ Bones)


DAVID SMITH:
Fastest Machine: CD
Lilting, melodic indie pop. Apparently, it’s RIYL with Damien Rice, Mercury Rev, and Richard Buckner. Having only heard that Damien Rice song from Closer, I’ll stipulate that this comparison seems to be accurate, but doesn’t make me appreciate this album any more. Mercury Rev? Dudes, smoke some different crack. The Rev was a hallucinatory indie pop band with so much distortion that it took something on the order of a decade before most folks outside the U.K. press finally understood and appreciated Yerself Is Steam. And Buckner? Hell if I know. Send me one of his albums and I’ll tell you. Simply put, this is an album for people who might be inclined to spend a Saturday evening lying in bed, staring at the ceiling while listening to records and wishing to hell that they had the guts to talk to that girl or that guy or mourning their most recent break-up because they will never meet anyone like that ever again (for at least the next three months). But more importantly, what the fuck does RIYL mean? Can someone tell me that? –scott (Are You Listening)


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