Steve Adamyk Better Off 7″ (Red Lounge)
North American, “Spirit of ‘77″ punk on a European label usually sets off some sort of warning signal in my head, especially when the artist is just some dude’s real name (although I tip my cap to the bassist named “Male Nurse”), but Better Off is reason enough for me to consider ditching that stereotype. “Better Off” is a speedy, tuneful number that sounds like the Exploding Hearts covering Jay Reatard; you know, a tuneful, almost cutesy band playing with an Adverts intensity. Same goes for “Satellite” and “Hit the Ground”, the type of perfectly simplistic first-wave punk rock of which I’ll never tire. Steve Adamyk’s modern take on the sound reminds me of how much I dug the first Briefs album (gotta pull that one out again soon). “Hit the Ground” is probably the catchiest of the three, but there isn’t one false move here. More, please!
Amen Dunes Murder Dull Mind EP 12″ (Sacred Bones)
Amen Dunes (just one guy, I think) lived in North Beijing for a while, and he brought along a couple guitars for the trip (electric and acoustic), sitting in his open windowsill and charming the alley cats long after the sun has set. Sometimes he puts together a real song, such as the title track here, rocking a sleepy, indie troubadour vibe and clearly missing his friends back home. Other times, he neglects to write any lyrics, or even any music, and just jams out his guitars to varying levels of comfort, either quietly contemplative melodies on the acoustic or squalls of amplified effects (the direction possibly depending on whether or not his neighbors were home at the time of recording). If the EP followed only one of those approaches, I’d probably like it less than I do, as the mix of struggling acoustic ragas and sun-bleached drone makes for an enjoyable if not transcendent experience. Maybe if Jandek grew up a couple decades later and joined Facebook before spiraling solipsistically into his own navel, he’d have sounded a whole lot like Amen Dunes.
aTelecine …And Six Dark Hours Pass LP (Dais)
Let’s just get this out of the way: aTelecine is the work of actress and porn-star Sasha Grey, alongside two non-acting, non-porning men. People love to talk about Sasha Grey, as is the fate of probably any woman engaged in provocative and controversial behavior, but let’s just bypass the tabloid impulse and listen, okay? Strolling through side one, it’s evident that …And Six Dark Hours Pass is one weird-ass record - it starts with some sort of brief and distorted radio sample, then moves forward to what sounds like little more than two children on a rusty see-saw (about eight minutes worth), then some creepy, new-age ambiance with minor-note keyboards and grey clouds drifting overhead. That’s how aTelecine do it - without any coherence or logical structure, like Stephen Stapleton at his most enigmatic or Edward Ka-Spel in a deliberately obtuse mood. While listening, I really have no idea where aTelecine are taking me, like I’m blindfolded and drugged in the trunk of a musty sedan, unfamiliar with the sound of the road beneath me. Very perplexing stuff, especially as to how or why these three people settled on the sounds here. Regardless, aTelecine is some of the most unarousing music I’ve ever heard, and for my money, a success.
Mac Blackout Don’t Let Your Love Die / Sometimes 7″ (Sacred Bones)
The impulse to Blankdog is strong. I can’t blame the people doing it, really - sitting down in your bedroom or basement or whatever, and just trying to make music by yourself with keyboards and free recording software is a lot of fun; I’ve done it myself. Context clues inform me that Mac here was also in the Functional Blackouts, and while I recall them as a B+ garage-punk group from Chicago, Mac Blackout steps away from that sound and wraps his head in half a dozen scarves on this short n’ sweet single. “Don’t Let Your Love Die” is peculiar enough - a gloomy, Dark Day-styled tune with alternating black metal and new-wave vocals. It’s nothing if not abnormal, like a Pink Noise song with a big tumor growing inside it. “Sometimes” tells me that Blackout’s probably spent some time with the dollar-bin TVT Records 12″s that litter his city’s record shops, or I’d at least like to give him the credit that he didn’t just get the inspiration from the first couple Cold Cave records. I don’t think there’s anyone out there that needs to own this one, part of the beauty of this music is that we can all just go buy some junky keyboards and a guitar and do it ourselves, but it’s an enjoyable five minutes nonetheless.
Capitalist Casualties / Lack of Interest split 7″ (Six Weeks)
Here’s a split that could’ve happened anytime in the past fifteen years, and as a testament to the longevity and quality of the West Coast power-violence scene, neither band has lost a step through that passage of time. Three tracks from Capitalist Casualties, sounding as pissed-off and raw as ever, unwavering from their original template of Heresy and Siege. Real good stuff, but I picked this up because I couldn’t afford to miss out on any new Lack of Interest. Often unfairly written off as Infest clones, Lack of Interest have always been one of Slap A Ham’s most underrated artists, continuing their unflinching brutality here. “Everyone Must Die” is already a modern classic in my book, and with Chris Dodge manning the bass guitar, I wouldn’t be surprised if peak Lack of Interest is yet to come. As a bonus, this split comes with a copy of Short Fast & Loud fanzine, complete with reviews in such tiny print that I needed a magnifying glass to read them. Hardcore will never die.
Channels 3 & 4 Christianity LP (Gilgongo)
If there’s anyone lamenting the declined prominence of the Three.One.G / GSL axis, it’s Channels 3 & 4. This self-described “riot grrl synth punk” group (don’t they know it’s actually spelled “grrrl”?) smacks of Black Cat #13, right down to the cat-headed band members on the back cover and Canadian country of origin. I enjoyed Black Cat #13, even if history writes me into the minority there, but I’m not sure I need to hear a new band taking a stab at the flailing drums, sassy vocals and two-finger keyboard melodies that defined them. Even Christianity’s cover’s disembodied legs in tights and heels smack of the sassy Spock-core aesthetic that came and went ten years ago. There really isn’t much more to Channels 3 & 4; I can’t even scope out a Neon Hunk influence. Getting down to it, I’d even say that Christianity is less developed artistically than Black Cat #13’s singles. They at least had some affiliation with that Oh No The Modulator guy, you know?
Cosmin TRG Tower Block / Béton Brut 12″ (Hemlock)
I generally associate Cosmin TRG’s name with dubstep geared for the weekend nightclub crowd, the type of music that can move even the least sophisticated rumps while still entertaining those with a Wire subscription. That’s why Tower Block / Béton Brut threw me for a loop, as both tracks pick up long after the celebration has subsided and the confetti has turned to wet sludge on the floor, instead favoring a dark, clicky atmosphere and rhythms with significant bones removed. “Tower Block” reminds me of labelmate Untold, in the way that Untold works economically with his spectrum of sounds, focusing on what one specific blip or squeak can do rather than layering it into oblivion. “Béton Brut” works a similar angle with its skilled dissection of dubstep before eventually expanding into a dimly-lit club banger, unable to deny the urge to shake the crowd after putting his production chops on display. Consistently a favorite of mine, Cosmin TRG can clearly work both sides of the field.
Matthew Dear Black City LP (Ghostly International)
From the moment the languid drums shuffled in on Black City opener “Honey”, I was hooked. Matthew Dear’s debut album Leave Luck to Heaven was a cool and inspiring work for me at the time, but my attention drifted as Dear stopped flirting with pop and entered a serious relationship with it, instead preferring his gritty, saw-toothed techno under the guise of Audion. I think it was the cool artwork that drew me back in, but no matter the reason why I checked it out, Black City is easily one of the best new records I’ve heard this year. It goes like this: the isolated and dark, lunar anomie of Tin Man mixed with LCD Soundsystem’s undeniable pop catchiness (minus the smug self-awareness), plus the visionary studio mastery of Trent Reznor and the cool-as-hell white-boy funk of Beck or Jamie Lidell. Through this equation, Matthew Dear has put together something incredibly complex and unexpected, yet instantly gratifying - all glued by his droopy, distinct vocals, multi-tracked with a chorus of deep baritone and sultry feminine Matthew Dears all cooing at once. The vocal production is a great idea, and it’s the main reason I spent the past two weeks neglecting almost any other music, content to have Dear steer me through the epic “Little People (Black City)” and the swelteringly sexy “You Put A Smell On Me” over and over again. There are few masterworks like Black City coming out these days, so when they do, I hold them close and never let go.
Demdike Stare Liberation Through Hearing LP (Modern Love)
Demdike Stare have quickly become one of my favorite current musical groups. Their mix of dark, gothic atmospheres, middle-eastern strings, industrial menace, cavernous dub techno and horror soundtrack homage are unlike anything else going around, and make for a fantastic mix that’s as distinct as it is open-ended. This approach allows Demdike Stare to release long-form EPs, like the recent and great Forest of Evil, as well as collections of more concise cuts, like the Symbiosis disc, and now, Liberation Through Hearing. It’s a lot of music for such a relatively new group, but the quality remains top-notch here - the sub-arctic bass is as sumptuous as ever on “Caged in Stammheim”, the foggy drones of “Matilda’s Dream” are utterly captivating and the faltering, church-hymn vocal of “Bardo Thorol” is delightfully unexpected. No one else is doing what these guys do, smartly and intentionally compiling the world’s bleakest sounds and crafting something so palatable and entertaining as a result. It’s easy to get spoiled by Demdike Stare, as the vinyl keeps flowing, but this group’s existence is truly something special.
Double Negative Daydreamnation LP (Sorry State)
Heard about but never heard Double Negative before the snarkily-titled Daydreamnation, complete with its silver-embossed, raised-lettering cover that rivals the printing setup of any of my “collectible” early ’90s X-Men comics. Mercifully, that’s where the gimmickry ends with Double Negative, as their riffs come from the same holy book as Raw Power, Ill Repute, Lärm or Poison Idea, you know, any of the hundreds of great hardcore bands who figured it all out before 1984. And unlike some of those bands, I get the impression that Double Negative have a reliable practice space and make good use of it, as each of these thirteen tracks features multiple intricate parts (at least by hardcore’s standards), the type of stuff you have to really work on to nail the way these guys do. I get annoyed by hardcore bands who try to intellectualize the song structure, and throw in all sorts of influences to show some sort of superiority over the standard template, but I wouldn’t accuse Double Negative of that behavior, as their songs flow logically and with aggression in mind, not change for change’s sake. Daydreamnation is nothing I haven’t heard before, but it’s something I’ll always love, and with that sludgy, Landed-esque intro to “Beg To A Vile Nude”, Double Negative have nudged out some room to grow without betraying their gnarly vibe.
The Electric Bunnies Pretty Joanna / I Swear I’ll Never Let You Go 7″ (Sacred Bones)
The emo-comic artwork adorning this Electric Bunnies single is a strange fit for the usually reserved and cult-ish Sacred Bones label, but I guess that’s what you’re signing up for when you work with a band named “The Electric Bunnies”. Their LP didn’t do much for me, but “Pretty Joanna” is a worthy a-side, lots of fuzz and guitar effects floating over a steady bass-line, while the singer does his best rendition of the Butthole Surfers’ “Pepper” over top. I’d play this for a friend. “I Swear I’ll Never Let You Go” never holds me to begin with, though - a limp, sugary pop song with amateurish harmonizing that sounds slightly out-of-tune throughout, not from some cool defiant anti-melody stance, but from a low level of musical chops. The Electric Bunnies bat .500 here, an exceptional average in baseball, but a middling performance in the world of punk singles.
Exiles from Clowntown Around the Corner / Whistling Assassin 7″ (Greatdividing)
They won me over with that name before I even heard them, these Exiles from Clowntown! This band has got to be impossibly stubbly and sour to get kicked out of Clowntown of all places, and after removing this single from its hole-punched and rubber-stamped dust sleeve and giving it a spin, things start to make sense. This is primordal slop-rock to such a degree of amateurish bliss that it makes Watery Love look like international rock stars. “Around the Corner” is a jam on a stockroom bass-line, a would-be instrumental if it wasn’t for some guy muttering in the background a couple minutes in. “Whistling Assassin” lives up to its title with a cheery whistle, complemented with guitar (set on vibrate mode, no ring tone) and a plodding rhythm section. The clear and crisp recording adds to my delightful confusion. What are these Exiles trying to accomplish here? What is the meaning of any of this? Exiles from Clowntown don’t write songs, they write cliffhangers, and I like it that way.
Grass Widow Past Time LP (Kill Rock Stars)
Been hearing all sorts of good things about this San Franciscan trio, who have moved up from the nascent Captured Tracks scene to opening for Sonic Youth and beyond. I never got around to checking them out, except for that roughshod split cassette with Rank/Xerox (which I think was mainly live and doesn’t really count), so I was looking forward to Past Time, their Kill Rock Stars debut. Been spinning it a bunch, and my reactions are mixed - there’s no denying these three women are excellent players and have a special way with melody, I’m just not entirely sure that what they do with all that talent is something I particularly crave. I was expecting something a little more primitive, I mean they do cover the Urinals on that tape, but each song on here has multiple guitar licks, intertwining melodies and most notably, multiple singers constantly singing. Their voices are great, but when I’m trying to concentrate on the snappy drumming, plucked guitars, violin choir, poppy bass AND three sets of vocals singing different things, I start to tune out a little. It’s not a record filled with hooks, more like various sets of interesting ideas, and it’s often a bit too impenetrable for what I’d hope to hear. I think Grass Widow are real cool, I just wish they’d write their music a little more sparingly, in order for me to truly listen, not just hear.
Grave Babies Gouge Your Eyes Out / Traumatic Visions 7″ (Skrot Up)
Skrot Up put out an FNU Ronnies tape last year, so they’ve already got one up on almost every other label in existence. Interesting choice then that they inked a deal with Grave Babies, a Seattle-based duo who probably don’t wait until their black nail polish has completely dried to go outside and smoke. Goths by design, dirtbags by nature, that sort of thing. “Gouge Your Eyes Out” doesn’t gouge so much as softly poke, thanks to a slow-motion drum track and a guitar-line plucked from The xx. Then the vocals come in and kind of disturb the whole thing with a loud, gothy, maudlin drawl that’s a little too overwrought for my tastes. “Traumatic Visions” is less distinct, falling into that giant Blank Dogs vat where all the colors of the rainbow swirl into a greenish gray. Not a bad track, and it fits well alongside the more sprawling a-side, but it’s over in a blip. All in all, a glum little single, proof that it still rains all too often in Seattle.
Hiroshima Rocks Around / Bipolar Bear split LP (Kill Shaman / No=Fi)
Nothing if not a fitting match, here’s two sides of noisy post-punk, courtesy of Rome and Los Angeles. Hiroshima Rocks Around are up first, running through a large handful of songs that complete their checklist nicely - frantic ping-ponging guitars, bass that sounds like an emergency alarm, poorly played saxophone for annoyance value, a song that’s little more than dicking around, grown men throwing a tantrum in front of the microphone - it’s all there. I could waste an evening in a far worse way than by listening to Hiroshima Rocks Around. Maybe I haven’t tuned into Bipolar Bear in a while, but I’m hearing a pretty strong No Age influence here, in the way that their pummeling drums meet naive vocals and chiming guitar. “Cidade” has kind of an A Frames vibe, thanks to that mechanical bass-line, but I can’t shake the image of No Age as I continue to listen. All in all, an adequate pairing that is destined to be lost deep within the recesses of my split LPs, never to be heard from again.
Knife Fight Isolated EP 7″ (Painkiller)
The previously dormant Knife Fight are back with seven new hardcore cuts, as American as a bald eagle choking on apple pie. Isolated EP could really stand as a textbook example of undiluted American hardcore - in the tradition of The Fix, Straight Ahead and Poison Idea, Knife Fight fly through their songs in a minute or less, drilling their repetitive riffs and occasional breakdowns into your skull. No vocal effects, no extended solos, no dirges, no melodies, just straight-forward hardcore without lofty purpose or ulterior motive. It’s nearly impossible to break down Knife Fight and their Isolated EP any further than that - either you connect with it or you don’t. I like my share of fancy music that makes no sense, but when I want a greasy serving of meat-and-potatoes hardcore, Knife Fight fill that void perfectly.
Mammoth Grinder Obsessed with Death 7″ (Hell Massacre)
I’ve enjoyed a variety of Grinders in my day: Carcass, Scrotum, hell, even a Rumpelstiltskin. Might as well add a Mammoth to that prestigious list, and what better way to start than a Hell Massacre release. “Obsessed with Death” cuts right to the point, as it’s a fine slice of hardcore-tinged death metal, complete with gruff vocals and a brief Kerry King-style solo. Pure catnip for the Relapse Records staff. On the flip, Mammoth Grinder take on what is undoubtedly Venom’s most famous song (probably the most famous greeting in all of metal, too), slowing it a touch and thickening it out, although improving upon the original is undoubtedly an impossible task. Could’ve gone for another original Mammoth Grinder song instead, but it’s not a dealbreaker. They’re already my second favorite Grinder (well, third if you count Grinderman) and I’ve only really heard one real song.
Motor City Drum Ensemble Raw Cuts #3 & #4 12″ (MCDE)
Don’t get confused - Motor City Drum Ensemble is not a drum ensemble, nor from Detroit. Instead, it’s the work of a young German guy named Danilo Plessow who looks like a member of Sigur Rós (which is actually the polar opposite of what a Motor City drum ensemble would look like). Clearly looks can be deceiving though, as both of these “raw cuts” are house music of the highest order, with sweet keys, thumping bass and undeniable grooves. “Raw Cuts #3″ works the ’70s soul vocals nicely into the mix, an anthem that works for packed Manhattan loft and backyard barbeque alike. “Raw Cuts #4″ does the same thing, just pure vibrant house that recalls Theo Parrish and Moodymann’s deepest moments. The pitch-perfect production and spacious vinyl grooves on here would make any sound system sound expensive. Raw Cuts #3 & #4 is proof that a solid groove knows no racial or national barriers; I hope there are more on the way.
San Francisco Water Cooler II LP (Sun Sneeze)
Even if San Francisco Water Cooler neglected to designate a city in their name, it’s pretty clear that this music was made on the West Coast - II is filled with the type of swirling rock psychedelia and flower-picking playfulness that could only be rendered in California, the sunny state where burritos are free on every corner and the title of “musician” is considered an actual occupation. The ‘Water Cooler keep things light and grooving throughout, sticking to the pop-song script even as their guitars start to levitate and the drugs take effect. It’s lo-fi, not unlike Sic Alps or Psychedelic Horseshit’s more coherent efforts, and like those two, San Francisco Water Cooler don’t forget that there should be an actual song underneath it all. The tone-deaf singer harshes my mellow on occasion, like one of those “so bad it’s funny” American Idol rejects hollering into the air, but he never brings the party to a halt. The rest of the band is surely having too much fun to notice, and there’s certainly something to be said for that.
Ty Segall & Mikal Cronin Reverse Shark Attack LP (Kill Shaman)
It’s simply impossible to ingest today’s constant deluge of garage punk vinyl, it makes the BP spill look like a drop of pee in a swimming pool by comparison, but I’m willing to make time for Ty Segall. I know he’s on the “one single a week” strength training regimen, so I’ve stuck with the albums, a plan I strongly endorse. Reverse Shark Attack teams Segall with Mikal Cronin, filling out the lineup nicely with bass guitar and drums that aren’t just played by Segall’s feet. The a-side gets fast at times, almost like The Oblivians at moments, although I prefer the Cramps-y nuggets like “I Wear Black” and “Bikini Babes” the most; Segall’s greasy vocal is best enjoyed at a Link Wray pace. The b-side is filled entirely by “Reverse Shark Attack”, and while I was hoping these guys were just gonna jam on some sleazy garage riff for like fifteen minutes and yell “reverse shark attack!” over top, I wasn’t too disappointed by the suite of garage-y laments, drum solos, surf shredding and rock improv that actually comprise it. Good thing it’s already September, I’m not entirely sure I feel safe in the water anymore.
Skream Outside the Box 4xLP (Tempa)
There have been a lot of dubstep albums dropping lately, and like the majority of them, Skream’s Outside the Box is a mixed bag. Undeniably one of the godfathers of the genre, which is kind of funny seeing as he was just a teenager at the time, Skream has hit big over the years, and now, riding the wave of notoriety following his killer La Roux remix, he’s poised to go even bigger. It’s with that reaching-for-the-sky attitude that Skream approached Outside the Box, leading to some of his most pop-oriented material yet, like the killer “Where You Should Be” and Benny Benassi-esque “How Real”. Those are my picks of the litter, as they have two of the strongest vocal performances, nicely robotized by Skream and chopped briskly into some sort of sexy cyborg hash. Unfortunately, when Skream steps out on his own here, I find myself getting bored, as he plays things a little too safe, or on the Murs’ collaboration “8 Bit Baby”, the corny, bragadocious West Coast rapping gets in the way entirely. Even La Roux’s contribution to “Finally” sounds more like an Evanescence remix than anything as star-powered as “In For The Kill”. Outside the Box is not without it’s high points, it just suffers from it’s hefty size. Maybe eventually a dubstep album will be put together that truly explains this music to the rest of the world, but it hasn’t happened yet.
Soft Shoulder People Problems 7″ (Gilgongo)
Generally speaking, I dig most music that gets hit with the infamous “anyone could play that!” criticism. Soft Shoulder are certainly a band ripe for that sort of derision, as their form of ape-like rock is by no means an impressive feat. No, any gathering of slugs with a guitar, microphone, borrowed amps and busted drums could make this sort of racket. In the wrong setting, like the middle of a six-band basement show where I’m waiting for the band I came to see, or on a long car ride while trying to sleep, I’d hate Soft Shoulder as much as any God-fearing citizen, but in the form of this cruddy, grayscale 7″ single, I’m happy to oblige their noisy, simplistic view of the world. File it among your Lust/Unlust records and see if anyone notices.
Jason Urick This Is Critical / Invisible Map 7″ (Fan Death)
Here’s a nice double-shot of digital noise from Baltimore’s gray-haired maestro, Jason Urick. A few years ago, I caught a Wzt Hearts gig, his previous group, and their electro-acoustic improvisation left me hanging (not every guy with a cool necklace and a couple Chris Corsano records is cut out to be a free drummer), but cutting out on his own, Urick is pretty righteous. “This Is Critical” is a nice ebb and flow of rapidly deteriorating creaks and moans, like a digital violin decaying beautifully as its strings shred from the friction. It’s an overloaded track and succeeds for it. “Invisible Map” is my noisy play-of-the-week though; it sounds like the ambient-techno of Gas run through a subway station PA system while the earth’s crust melts, a really beautiful declaration of peace and love in the face of total armageddon. Not sure why I haven’t heard any Gas-inspired noise before, it’s a really palatable combo, so I hope Urick keeps cutting tunes like “Invisible Map”. People keep finding new ways of getting high; it’s only right that the music keeps up, too.
Vaccine Human Hatred 7″ (Painkiller)
It’s ironic that this brutal power-violence band is called Vaccine… ‘cuz this record kills me every time I put it on! Hey, if these grown men are allowed to be straight-edge, I’m allowed a bad joke or two. Seriously though, there’s no remorse in these ten tracks, just pure blasting hardcore ala Despise You or Scapegoat - grindcore played with a hardcore mentality. It’s fantastic stuff, avoiding anything slow or corny, and just completely annihilating with speed and vigor, written with a tumbling complexity that reminds me of the Charles Bronson full-length. The lyrics for “Limited Edition” and “Cheap” tug at my nostalgia too, recalling a time when topics like collectible vinyl and scenesters were the most troubling issues facing the middle-class hardcore youth. We didn’t know how good we had it.
Gunnar Wendel 578 12″ (FXHE)
There is nary a more confusing universe than that of electronic dance music singles. See, this is a 12″ by Gunnar Wendel, the real name of Kassem Mosse (which I didn’t know was an alias until now). These two songs are two different, unlabeled remixes of “578″ by A.O.S., aka Omar S, and the vinyl plays from the inside out. As if techno wasn’t a hard enough world to understand when just what the hell you were listening to is clearly labeled, these guys take delight in making it even more impenetrable. Thankfully, I’m up for the challenge, and these two mixes are just the sort of electro-fire that gives me the courage to soldier on. The synths on “578″ are pure-bred Kraftwerk, the type of robotic techno-funk that made Computer World the paradigm-shifter that it was. Wendel’s got an infectious riff here, modified and tweaked in real-time in the way that only Omar S can. In a way, the sheer effort needed to understand FXHE and its releases is rewarding, a far cry from the way in which I can download every Can or Drexciya or Slayer album in ten hours without blinking an eye (or paying a penny). Nice to see someone still wants to make me work for it.
Billy Bao Urban Disease LP (Pan)
Remember all those YouTube videos showing peoples’ reactions to the 2 Girls 1 Cup video? I’d imagine the people who paid the $35+ to own Urban Disease would provide a similar reaction upon listening to it: brief confusion, followed by stupefying fear and disgust. Billy Bao has had some great moments, like all of the Fuck Separation 10″ and most of Dialectics of Shit, but with that last stinker of an album, and this pretentious turd, I may have to stop following along. Across these two untitled sides of vinyl, spanning forty minutes, there are probably about five total minutes of actual sound - the majority of this record is silent. Interspersed randomly are slow claps, noisy outbursts, feedback, and for one brief section on the second side, a weirdly-chopped kaleidoscope of synthy sound, possibly the only enjoyable moment on here (and a brief one at that). So essentially, you sit there, waiting around for someone to turn on an amp or to hear Mattin turn the page of the newspaper he’s reading. I will give Billy Bao credit for legitimately bothering me with Urban Disease, there’s something to be said for that, but if pranking is the name of the game, I’d much rather just take a pie to the face and move on with my life than waste another forty minutes of my life with this total bore.
Bosom Divine Bosom Divine CD (Les Disques Steak)
French garage-punkers love using television stills for cover art, Bosom Divine being the latest in my collection. I always kind of get the impression that today’s crop of French punks are messing with me (A.H. Kraken, the Feeling of Love and Cheveu all come to mind) but Bosom Divine play it pretty straight - there’s no wacky melodica solo or field recording of a drunk chasing a flock of geese on Bosom Divine, just time-tested rock n’ roll. Bosom Divine’s rock moves sometimes call to mind The Original Sins or The Devil Dogs, but they balance that aggression with a taste for MTV’s Alternative Nation programming, thanks to the pop hooks that hint at the Dandy Warhols or Blur. I’m not particularly touched by this specific amalgam of styles, and Bosom Divine never really blow the roof off of things, but they seem to have a handle on their sound just the same. I wouldn’t wedge myself into a smoke-filled bar to watch these guys play, but I’d happily drink a glass of their wine after the gig.
Cold Cave Life Magazine Remixes 12″ (Matador)
“Life Magazine” was definitely the stand-out track on Love Comes Close, to the point that cultural touchstones as varied as Yellow Green Red and Radio Shack found value and satisfaction in its pop-ambient chords and layered vocals. That song gets the remix treatment here, with some menacingly beautiful portraits of Cold Cave associate Max G. Morton on the cover (those eyes!). Arthur Baker’s remix is the one I was expecting to hear, a pumped-up, arena-ready version that drags out the best parts of the track into some sort of mega-jam. Optimo’s mix takes on a life (pun intended) of its own, rubbing ’80s electro and Italo-disco together to make a fire, nearly ignoring the original melody altogether. I’ve been meaning to check out Pantha du Prince beyond a few mix appearances, and his version is the reduced-fat “Life Magazine”, with lots of rapid pops and subtle chimes, calling to mind some sort of early ’00s IDM on Mille Plateaux or something. Even the vocal is snapped to an impossibly short degree. There’s a full nine minutes of this and I don’t need to revisit it anytime soon. Prurient finishes things off much in the vein of his Benny-Benassi-plays-Hijokaidan style, a noise-drenched brand of melancholy techno that I’m always down to enjoy. For my money, I’d still prefer the original over any of these remixes, but that’s probably missing the point - the variety of distinct flavors on this remix single makes for a satisfying experience in its own right.
Drivan Disko CD (Smalltown Supersound)
No disco here, this is Disko, which apparently means “slow and somber acoustic guitar, piano and vocals, all of which occasionally flourish into bouts of trip-hop” in Norwegian. Drivan is the project of Kim Hiorthøy and three friends, presumably taking a break from their various visual art and graphic design jobs to jam some hushed and delicate tunes. I was expecting more weird electronic scribbling to appear, or some sort of artificial electronic environment, but Drivan stick to the familiar, with the songs sounding as if they were captured by a ceiling-dangled microphone while everyone walked across the polished hardwood floor (in their socks) towards their instruments. If IKEA started a record label, Drivan would be a great flagship band; the members even look like IKEA’s designers, you know, the ones who get their photo on display next to the shoe rack or lamp they created.
Endless Boogie Full House Head 2xLP (No Quarter)
Full House Head is a fine continuation of Endless Boogie’s endless boogieing, another two 12″ records composed of charcoal, Chevy exhaust and bacon fat. Lots of long jams, as to be expected, taking on an even more casual and front-porch approach, the kind of playing that won’t break a sweat, even on a summer afternoon. Contrary to the opinion I formed after listening to their raw and early self-released albums, Endless Boogie are not psychedelic, they are Dad Rock of the highest caliber, the music Brett Favre hears in his head as he steps into a fresh pair of Wranglers. Endless Boogie’s humble intentions are clear, and while they may not have progressed an inch since their last No Quarter album, it comes as no surprise. They found the sweet spot they wanted and ostensibly intend to ride it out to infinity. They also get silly sometimes, which almost reached a breaking point for me on “Mighty Fine Pie”, but vocalist Paul Major shows such conviction for his favorite baked good that I can’t help but belly up to the table and try to finagle a slice myself.
Fabulous Diamonds Fabulous Diamonds II LP (Siltbreeze)
Been anticipating this one for a while now, as Fabulous Diamonds’ debut album was crucial to my 2008 listening experience; I wore out my vinyl and MP3s alike. On this follow-up, the ‘Diamonds spread out longer than ever before, complete with two tracks that clock in at over ten minutes a piece, bookending the record. Like a lot of people, I can get into extended jams, but after spending enough time with Fabulous Diamonds II, I find myself wishing they’d cut it down to the pop-song length they previously worked with - they fit the same number of songs on this album as they did on their first 7″. Thankfully, their sound and formula remain essentially the same, with one drum-beat per track, playground-chant vocal rhyming and the deepest post-punk dub around. And the songs here are cool too, they haven’t lost their touch, it’s just that I don’t need an additional four or five instrumental minutes of any given Fabulous Diamonds track; three to four total is perfect. And while I’m griping, it’d be nice if they started naming their tunes, although after three records, I am not optimistic about it. I mean seriously, vocalist Nisa Venerosa repeats “I went to see the gypsy” like fifty times on the first track, would it kill them to call it “Gypsy” or something? Next time they come to town, I am going to holler out a request for “Untitled #3″ and see how they like it.
Gangwish Space Case Vol. 1 7″ (Dear Skull)
Gangwish is the work of one guy from Pittsburgh, recreating Hal Blaine’s Psychedelic Percussion for today’s sophisticated young adult. Groovy, smartly-patterned drums collide with various tones of unexplained origin - there’s probably a Space Xylophone on here, if such an instrument exists. Delay and various layers of beats add to the disorienting effect, but Space Case Vol. 1 is firmly set in the same futuristic jazz-pop camp as Stereolab; this is under no circumstances a noise record. The sweet female vocal on “Sea of Love” only adds to the Stereolab vibe, which is pretty hard to dislike. Gangwish would be a nice opener for both Air and Mi Ami (hell, probably Air Miami too), which is a sweet little spot to inhabit.
Group Icky Rats Free Rock LP (Coat-Tail)
Sometimes a record will tell you what to do, like Free Rock here, explicitly instructing its owner to file it under “rock music”. Little do Group Icky Rats know, I run a straight A-Z filing system, not by genre (determining whether Black Flag are to be filed in either “punk” or “hardcore” would give me a stroke), but no one could deny this is a rock record anyway - sure, it’s frantic, disjointed, fully improvised and occasionally hanging by a thread, but there is no denying the rock within. There’s a good twenty songs here, give or take, all of which feature guitar, drums and stream-of-consciousness vocals. I’m reminded of the obscure NYC free-rock trio Demo Moe, or original no-wavers DNA and Mars cross-bred with the best of its second wave (Couch, Lake of Dracula, that sort of Midwestern nutty flavor). Even though it’s clear that Group Icky Rats only keep one hand on the wheel, I’ve certainly enjoyed the ride.
Kyle Hall Must See EP 12″ (Third Ear)
Detroit wunderkind Kyle Hall is no doubt a must-see character, reinforced not only by the title of this EP but with the music contained within. Four nice tracks on here, continuing in that tropical-utopian FXHE sound, house music for any occasion. Definitely a great starter record for anyone trying to get into Kyle Hall, as it’s an excellent showcase of his production style - KMFH weaves sounds that conjure different genres and time periods together into this perfect mix that is both timeless and modern. A crunchy drum loop will mix with balearic synths and jazzy piano chords, creating this odd mix of fabricated nostalgia and visions of the future. On a different note, the artwork of Must See EP is uncannily similar to that of Sightings’ City of Straw. Great minds think alike, sometimes in the strangest of ways.
Inoculist Spells LP (Heartbreakbeat)
Following last year’s split single with Jana Hunter, here’s Inoculist’s debut LP, Spells. Whereas I picked up more of a modern baroque-folk type vibe on the split, Spells plays things a bit straighter, coming across like an indie-rock take on the The Royal Tenenbaums soundtrack. The combo sad male/female lead vocals remind me of Quasi, if Quasi only ever saw their cup as half empty. No real hooks or memorable tunes here, just an unobtrusive playlist for an overcast Sunday morning as you update your Etsy store. It’s done well, and I am sure there are people out there who need to hear dozens of new records like this every year, I just personally don’t have much extra space for mopey, countrified indie-rock in my daily life.
Joe Claptrap / Level Crossing 12″ (Hessle Audio)
I’m tempted to post this review in a different font or all caps or something, as it’s easy to gloss over a blurb about some techno guy named Joe if you’re not already familiar, and I need to get the word out that this is one of the best 12″s I’ve heard all year. I loved last year’s Grimelight / Rut, but this one takes the cake… no idea if Joe is yet another Ramadanman or Pangaea alias, but whoever the human behind it, there’s nothing else out there quite like it - Joe has reinvented the marching band for a dubstep future. “Claptrap” is truly minimal, in the sense that it’s comprised of little more than a clap sound, a bass drum, a snare, and some coughing in the background. This allows “Claptrap”’s ridiculous pattern to just grab you by your necktie and swing you around the room (while your cousin blares her Drumline DVD in the background). I could try to explain it further, and gush over the perfectly hilarious micro-second piano break, but you really just need to hear it for yourself. “Level Crossing” is cut from the same cloth, although its joints are looser and the sound palette more diverse (there’s even a school bell and a smidge of wobbly bass). So often I see the term “next level” thrown around, but as far as recent records go, only with Claptrap / Level Crossing do I feel it to be justified. A+!
K-X-P K-X-P CD (Smalltown Supersound)
K-X-P are a Finnish trio, working within a somewhat unrestricted grid of dance music and kraut-rock. On this self-titled disc, that sort of distinction usually means that one guy fires up a rhythm, the other two hop in and out, and it all flows organically, just one small nation under a groove. K-X-P is mainly an instrumental affair, although the occasional vocal will greet you, too (and propel the hook on “18 Hours (of Love)”). I don’t know, for as pleasant as this stuff is, there isn’t a heck of a lot on K-X-P that caught my ear; K-X-P are fine and good, but lacking any significant flair or drama or quirk. Compared to labelmate Lindstrøm, who takes immaculate care to provide only the best in his musical moments, K-X-P can come across as slackers. Maybe they are just getting warmed up, but I’m not sure I’ll remember K-X-P by the time their next record comes out.
LA Vampires & Zola Jesus LA Vampires Meets Zola Jesus LP (Not Not Fun)
Collaborating with Zola Jesus is a surefire way to get me to check out one’s music. I may have (consciously or unconsciously) avoided anything too close to Pocahaunted’s camp, but LA Vampires’ collab with Zola Jesus piqued my interest and I’m all the better for having heard it. Housed in a cool printed DJ sleeve, LA Vampires Meets Zola Jesus is pretty much the textbook definition of “two people hunched over delay pedals and moaning into microphones”, but I don’t think that whole style has to be looked upon with the derision it seems to invite. I can certainly dig a good murky moan-fest, of which this is top quality. I figured this collab wasn’t going to spotlight Zola Jesus’s goth-pop starlet sensibilities, so I experienced no letdown. And along with their drones, most of the tracks here utilize some sort of loose dub structure - mysterious enough to satisfy this week’s witch-house trend, and with enough dread and digi-reggae vibes to keep me entertained (”Searching” has a particularly compelling groove). Not sure if this is LA Vampires’ usual steez that Zola Jesus is just guesting on, but it kind of feels that way - I think I need to pick up some other LA Vampires vinyl to find out.
Marked Men On / The Other Side 7″ (540)
Marked Men are the type of band I’d really dig, but I’ve avoided them thus far. Not sure why, although I am pretty sure the lame Microsoft Word-preset font choice of their Ghosts album has a lot to do with it. (I just can’t support that sort of careless graphic design.) This single, however, with it’s die-cut center hole and casual artwork, looked sharp enough that I could forgive them, and I’m glad I did - unsurprisingly, these songs are great. “On” is a power-pop gem, getting by without a knockout chorus or vocal hook, but just the quality of their sound - vocals are sweetly in tune, guitars strummed with an exacting touch and the whole thing is recorded with a perfectly raw clarity. They speed things up with “The Other Side”, mechanically blasting like Chixdiggit at their finest or an American Buzzcocks. It’s really hard to make pop-punk sound this appealing to adults, but Marked Men have it down to a science (so long as they don’t whip out Comic Sans for their next album).
Melchior & Pronsato Puerto Rican Girls / We Make It Right 12″ (Smallville)
When I first heard that Thomas Melchior and Bruno Pronsato collaborated on a track called “Puerto Rican Girls”, I raced to the internet to purchase a copy, already daydreaming about the ridiculous tech-house anthem it surely must be. Melchior in particular has blown my mind on numerous occasions, from “Different Places” to all of No Disco Future, and Bruno Pronsato’s recent The Make Up The Break Up has received serious rotation in my daily playlist. My hopes were clearly too high, as “Puerto Rican Girls” is not a summer anthem, but a potent burner that takes time to appreciate. Rather than explode with some huge hook, “Puerto Rican Girls” kind of creeps around the beat, expanding and contracting with the subtlety of an eroding beach, aided by the cooing vocals of Ninca Leece. “We Make It Right” is slower, climbing an ascending bass-line to a café in the clouds (or so the cool cover art would lead me to believe). Not quite the power-collab I was hoping for, but a fine warm-water dip nonetheless.
Moodymann Ol’ Dirty Vinyl 12″ (Mahogani)
Moodymann is a pretty interesting dude, even when compared to the other colorful personalities of the Detroit house scene. Unlike most house producers, there seems to be some level of hatred that inspires his work - whether it is aimed towards fake DJs, fake pimps or white people, his ire is usually up. Ol’ Dirty Vinyl tempers some of that attitude, making for a fairly diverse and often thrilling EP. “Ol’ Dirty Vinyl” is a sweet and crunchy summer jam, not to mention true to its title. “We Don’t Care” and “No Feedback” come with a stronger sense of Moodymann ‘tude, aided by the cocky vocal riffs, presumably Moodymann himself on the mic. Most importantly, Ol’ Dirty Vinyl is nearly essential because of “It’s 2 Late 4 U and Me”, one of Moodymann’s finest works. It’s a nine-minute stunner with an intimidating bass-line and sumptuous vocal hook, masterfully spun into a dance-floor killer that can be enjoyed just as easily while lying on one’s couch. The lofty domestic price-tag might make this an easy one to overlook, but you’d only be punking yourself; this is the real deal.
Mount Kimbie Crooks and Lovers CD (Hotflush)
Mount Kimbie never struck me as anything more than just another face in the dubstep crowd, one of those artists you download, listen through once or twice, and then file away deep within the recesses of your external hard-drive. Not sure what it was that prompted me to check out Crooks and Lovers then; maybe I just like the challenge that a full-length album poses to modern electronic dance music, but Mount Kimbie has certainly developed a unique flavor that works exceptionally well in the album format. Crooks and Lovers is rainy-day dubstep, sharp beats filled with quick splices of stylus-crackle, the ambiance of a farmer’s market or other familar-yet-unplaceable sounds. More than anything, though, acoustic guitar seems to be the instrument of choice; it’s looped, degraded, saturated and left untouched, adding a nice sense of familiar comfort to computer-based music. Kind of hard to avoid a Fennesz comparison, it certainly came to my mind, but most of Crooks and Lovers maintains a pop sensibility, albeit a slightly fractured one - you can still groove to the majority of this record. It’s a cool concept, one that Mount Kimbie ran with excellently. I hope he sticks with this sort of thing; he’s probably the best hope we’ve got for a Jason Mraz dubstep remix. What? Like you wouldn’t want to hear that.
Neud Photo Synthetics LP (Custom Craft)
Can we just get the federal government to establish a Minimal Synth Authenticity Committee already? Neud Photo is another recent minimal-synth project who makes a point of noting “no software synths or drums were used” - some sort of governmental stamp of approval would make it whole lot easier, like the Nintendo Seal of Quality, rather than forcing the discerning synth-enthusiast to obtain each artist’s personal statement of authenticity. I mean, the last thing I want to do is listen to some synth group that used computer software to make their songs! Yuck! Sarcastic tirade aside, Neud Photo have put together a very satisfying debut album, softly menacing and never garish. Each track finds its pulse quickly, chugs along quietly, and moves out of the way. Synthetics definitely feels home-made, but by a pair of talented hands. Think of Ceramic Hello performing the soundtrack to Assault on Precinct 13 with some droning male vocals on top and you’re in the ballpark. Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s a letter to my local congressman that I have write.
Bill Orcutt Way Down South 12″ (Palilalia)
Harry Pussy had cool tour-only vinyl back in their day, and Bill Orcutt follows suit with Way Down South, a one-sided 12″ featuring a live set recorded in New Zealand. The crowd stays quiet through this series of meandering, confusing and satisfying tunes, allowing Mr. Orcutt to completely vibe out on his instrument and atonally converse with the spirits in the room. I vaguely remember hearing his yelps in the background of A New Way To Pay Old Debts, but his Shooby Taylor-esque vocal stylings are a bit more audible here, which I certainly appreciate. It’s also recorded cleaner, with a roomy sound that offers little of the fuzz and tape distortion present on Old Debts. Orcutt’s quieter passages shine through because of that, confirming that he doesn’t have to stab at your neck with his arrangements, he’ll gladly show cautious restraint as he slices you open, too.
Pollution ®SMUT LP (C6)
I checked out one of Pollution’s tapes based on the near-cultish praise, but I thought it sounded like a weak His Hero is Gone, or a lo-fi Dead & Gone, or a noise-rock Gone (okay, that last one is totally untrue, but the continuity couldn’t be passed up). That was an early release, and ®SMUT is a huge step forward, a monster-truck of a hardcore record that still has kind of a His Hero is Gone influence, albeit one that is expanded by highlights of the AmRep catalog, like Halo of Flies and Unsane. They’re reminiscent of Slices, although Pollution go straight for the gut over and over again; the closest they get to art is when they walk past MoMA to pick up guitar strings. Through the course of this record, they blast through grindcore, pummel with noise-rock, thrust with hardcore and scowl with a nasty dirge. In spite of that violent cornucopia, Pollution still sounds like the same band throughout, like these are all just different tentacles of the same kraken. I’m not a big fan of their URL-styled song.title.punctuation, but when forced to think of another current hardcore band so adept at cruising through various forms of aggressive rock music and making it their own, I cannot.
Psychic Baggage Psychic Baggage CD (Endless Melt)
Here’s some nice Australian improv, perfect for an art gallery’s opening night, especially if the exhibition consists of weird piles of metal-work and paintings that looks like big smears. There’s percussion and horns and drums, but Psychic Baggage never truly fly their freak flag - when they rustle an open hi-hat, it never reaches a roar. You could probably balance a game of Jenga on the bass drum, too. There’s some calming guitar drone, and occasionally some sort of electronic beat will float to the surface, if only for a fleeting moment. Reminds me of an unfocused Mouthus recording, or if Blues Control tried to suck (which you and I both know is impossible). I get a little lost in the longer tracks, and I almost completely forgot I was hearing anything at all while I was reading the spoiler to Audition (horrifying stuff). Not bad by any means, but I generally prefer my arty improv-drone to be a little meatier than Psychic Baggage.
Ramadanman Fall Short / Work Them 12″ (Swamp81)
Seems like it’s been a while since a proper Ramadanman release, as opposed to his many collaborations and aliases. (It’s actually only been like two months, but that’s a lifetime to an addict like myself.) Addison Groove and Skream’s contributions to the Swamp81 label have been fantastic, so it’s with a heavy heart I inform you that Fall Short / Work Them is the weakest of the bunch thus far. “Fall Short” comes with a nice sense of space, although its run-of-the-mill rhythm drags it down. I dig the short bursts of squiggly bass, and the emotive vocal hook, but this one comes across a little too lackadaisical for my tastes. “Work Them” packs a bigger punch, but the repetitive vocal jab reminds me of a watered-down “Footcrab” (Addison Groove’s killer Swamp81 a-side) and just makes me wish I was hearing that instead. Ramadanman probably should’ve saved this cool cover art for a better single. And you should probably go out and buy that new Joe single on Hessle Audio instead.
Rubbish Throwers Tapeworms 7″ (Endless Melt)
Took a chance on Rubbish Throwers, thanks to their cool name and country of origin (Australia, of course), and it paid off. I suppose it’s hard not to lump them into the “modern noise rock” stable, what with their rough-and-tumble rhythms, clanging guitars and unfriendly demeanor, there’s just something especially nice and unique about Rubbish Throwers, like they truly have nothing to prove, the sort of same angrily confident stance Feedtime took some twenty years ago. There aren’t any massive hooks, or songs I necessarily remember, but it’s such an enjoyable listen from start to finish that I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this record. I think the thing I find so appealing about Rubbish Throwers is the weird angle from which they approach blown-out post-punk, like they are truly arty people making dumb music, rather than wishing they were arty and failing, if that makes any sense. I’m sure I’m thinking about this too hard, and should probably just throw some rubbish while I blast this single again, so I’m going to do just that.
Scorpion Violente Scorpion Violente 12″ (Bruit Direct)
The sunburnt jerk on the cover of this record is a good indication for the vibes contained within. These two Frenchmen provide a heavy dose of antagonistic electro on this three-song 12″ single, elegantly simple and crowded with rotten sentiments. A-side “Rome Violente” rides a three-note arpeggio through the night, tunneling down towards the Catacombs of Paris. By no means a complex track, but it’s really stuck with me. The b-side livens up a bit further, kind of like a chain-smoking Six Finger Satellite in electro-mode. “Mi Pute Mi Soumise” follows the same mid-paced tempo but adds some distorted claps and writhing electronics, the kind of mutated synth music that’ll wipe the smirk off anyone’s face. “Ich Kann Nicht” is the only track with vocals, reminding me of SPK in a way, with new-age synths giving way to a mean-spiritedness. Really good stuff - I’m gonna keep my eye on these guys and hope they don’t notice.
Shetland Excess 12″ (Apnea)
Shetland is the collaboration of Brendon Moeller and David Kennedy, the latter of whom is known to most as Ramadanman. I can see why Kennedy would want to slip on a new name for Excess, as there isn’t a single thread connecting the sounds of Shetland to dubstep; these four tracks are straight-up tech house, luscious and refined. Cruising at like 126 bpm or so, these tracks pump out Villalobosian bass, airy synths and understated patterns. It’s unpretentious, and kind of timeless, but along with that timelessness comes an inability to really place Shetland at the top or bottom of the heap, just somewhere contently in the middle. Kinda funny that the tracks are titled “Nothing Succeeds Like Excess” and “Moderation Is Fatal”, since there’s nothing particularly overblown or, well, excessive about Excess. Does make for a good soundtrack for finally splurging on some expensive designer coat you’ve wanted for months, though - I speak from experience here.
Slang / Mind Eraser split 7″ (540)
Commemorating their recent US tour, here’s a split 7″ by these two hardcore heavyweights. Slang contributes “Drug Society”, a thick and heavy hardcore scorcher ala Framtid that’s gone in sixty seconds. Mind Eraser use more of the available vinyl real estate with two cuts, opening with the full-on grind assault of “Prime”, breaking down into a His Hero is Gone-ish push-pit. “Crushing In My Dreams” reminds me of a more technical Crossed Out, especially with that slow riff march that ends the song. Doesn’t matter that it’s a tour-only split single, Mind Eraser still deliver the goods with stunning focus. I’d like to hear some more Slang, too - perhaps a split LP is in order for their next tour?
Son Skull Birth Scene / Rewind EP 12″ (Perennial)
Raw Pacific NW punk rock is alive in the hands of Son Skull, as attractively packaged on Birth Scene / Rewind EP. I was expecting something a little more esoteric, or proto-grunge or something, just from the band shot on the cover (only three people pictured, but Son Skull is a four-piece - does that last member look like Sloth from Goonies or is he or she just super lazy?) and their affiliation with Gun Outfit, but this is pretty straight-forward, hardcore-speckled punk rock. Feedback before songs start, easy-to-remember riffs, angry shouted vocals. I get a female-fronted Filth vibe (the ’90s Californian one), like I could picture this band opening for Mukilteo Fairies in a Portland basement to a crowd of sweaty punkers all going wild and hanging on the plumbing. I’ll admit, I would probably like Son Skull less if this record wasn’t beautifully packaged, what with its rose-tinted clear plastic inner sleeve and attractive little insert, but the whole things comes together so nicely that I’m not noticing any flaws. Seems like this sort of attention to detail is Perennial’s M.O. - can’t wait to see what they’re up to next.
Uffie Sex Dreams and Denim Jeans 2xLP (Ed Banger / Because Music / Elektra)
Sex Dreams and Denim Jeans! I had hoped that an Uffie album would eventually become reality, and here it is… falling far short of my expectations. I’m pretty sure the rest of the world hates Uffie, and I take no umbrage towards those who do, but Uffie’s ridiculous self-awareness as a spoiled Internet-generation slacker always tickled me the right way. Her songs have always been simultaneously fun and verging on new levels of stupid, but with a significant shelf-life; I don’t think “Pop the Glock” sounds horribly dated to 2006, I still find plenty of enjoyment in it. Good thing, because it opens Sex Dreams and Denim Jeans, which also contains the rest of her singles from the past five years. While disappointing, I don’t mind having those tracks in one convenient place, but the problem is that the rest of the album doesn’t keep up that level of quality. “Art of Uff” has the most words she’s ever said in a single song, and it’s a great, slow-cooked club track, but the rest of the new stuff falls short: “ADD SUV” is too much of a no-brainer for all involved, “Give It Away” is unfortunately not a ‘Chili Peppers cover and “Sex Dreams and Denim Jeans” shows just how far Uffie is from a disco-punk diva like Blondie. I do, however, appreciate Uffie’s explanation in “Our Song”, brimming with fashionable apathy and the Ed Banger speed-editing I’ve come to enjoy. I figure this album will bomb commercially, I just hope that its failure doesn’t mean Uffie stops cutting one or two awesome songs per year for the diehards like myself.
Viper Committing the Seven Deadly Sins 7″ (540)
Pretty cool concept here: total G.I.S.M. worship with each song tackling the seven deadly sins. I assume Viper’s personnel features ex- and current-hardcore kids, as they certainly stick to the piss-raw punk aspect of G.I.S.M., avoiding the cheese metal aspect (which certainly made G.I.S.M. the kings that they are, in my opinion). It actually reaches a speedy hardcore tempo for “Greed”, but most of Committing the Seven Deadly Sins stays in that Riot City Records / Bone Awl template, which hasn’t failed anyone yet. The singer’s got a great choked-out, semi-death vocal echo chamber style going too. Add in the thinly-veiled Satanism and you’ve got yourself a winner.
Void Vision In 20 Years 7″ (Blind Prophet)
The main Cult of Youth guy has been busy, opening a record shop and starting a label, of which Void Vision is its debut release. It might be weird (or Wierd) to say, but Void Vision are dead-on Xeno and Oaklander on these two songs, minimal-synth as performed by a duo that sounds more like a full five-piece band jamming expertly on their Rolands and Junos. They’ve even got the speedy undercurrent and pop structure of X&O. Maybe it’s because there’s only two tracks here, or because the band name reminds me of Void and/or Vomit Visions, but I think I actually prefer Void Vision. The singer has a great gothic moan, never hammed up by a false accent or anything, and it’s really a perfect match to the music. The chorus of “Black and White” hints at a pop fascination, with the gravitas to make it a reality. I listen to a lot of the modern synth-pop that’s going around, and maybe it’s partly because we apparently live in the same city, but Void Vision is most definitely more exciting to me than the rest.
White Boss White Boss LP (Perennial)
Another Perennial debut, and another winner, here’s White Boss’s debut LP. White Boss like to extend their clawing, violent hardcore bursts with these epic intros and outros, just laying out flat landscapes of guitar squall and repetitive riffing before belting out some jolts of nasty hardcore. When they really kick in, I can get a feel of a toned-down Die Kreuzen or a beefed-up Merel, replacing the thrashing with a strong sense of grandeur. The wide and cold horizon on the cover certainly helps one get into that mindset. It’s definitely a hardcore record, but there’s something about White Boss that’s difficult to classify… oddly enough, I get a strong Gravity Records vibe from White Boss, in the way so many classic Gravity bands (like Heroin, Clikatat Ikatowi and Antioch Arrow) worked within their own realms to emphasize the power and emotion that hardcore music could exude. I know Gravity’s still kicking around today; they should get on the White Boss tip, this is the type of band that could reinvigorate any label.
White Drugs Gold Magic LP (Kunstwaffe / Amphetamine Reptile)
You can’t keep a good ’90s label down, as proven by Siltbreeze’s somewhat recent revival and apparently now Amphetamine Reptile’s as well, although to what degree AmRep is operating on remains to be seen. White Drugs are a good fit, as they take a lot of the typical AmRep signifiers (loud, rocking, vibrant, noisy) with a raw and updated recording (no ’90s phaser or excessive compression here). I swear there are like ten bands with “White ___” names these days, and it’s getting hard to keep track, but after Gold Magic, I’m pretty sure I could pull White Drugs out of a lineup of perps. They rock in a burly manner, to the point where I nearly spelled it “rawk”, with a vocalist who spews a variety of phrases in some sort of spastic, off-time shouted-word - somewhere between Mark E. Smith and Landed’s Dan St. Jacques his spittle does fly. The closest modern comparison I can think of is Mayyors, although White Drugs aren’t nearly as rambunctious (or good, but who really is?). Song titles like “Money is the Future” get a chortle - these guys have a decent sense of humor, and I enjoy gold face paint on pretty much anyone. Maybe you won’t be won over quite as easily, but I’m on board.
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