Abolitionist The Growing Disconnect LP (Different Kitchen / 1859 / Tour Van / Lost Cat / Sex Sheet / HAHAHA Cool!)
Sorry to start things off on a bummer, but this Abolitionist LP kinda has me stressed. They’re a punk group who are quite clearly influenced by Propagandhi, like a lot, but they play the music slower and more generically (kinda “local band”-style crusty pop-punk), and it’s mostly pretty alright. On a personal level, I feel zero passion for, or interest in, this sort of band, what with their heavy-handed politicking and snotty Fat Wreck Chords vocals – it’s fine, just not my bag at all. The main issue I’m struggling with is that this is the type of record that has me questioning my “I’ll review any vinyl you send in!” policy, because really, who that reads this blog about noisy punk and techno has any interest or desire to check out Abolitionist? Isn’t this just kind of a clog in the system, and taking my time away from writing about records that y’all might actually want to read about? But at the same time, I appreciate them sending it in, and wanna do right by Abolitionist, even if this is a record I wouldn’t think twice about otherwise. But, what if a hundred of their Warped Tour-going friends heard that I reviewed Abolitionist, and send in their records? Then what? Perhaps this review is neurotic and dorky enough that this problem will resolve itself.
The Afflicted Man I’m Off Me ‘Ead LP (Permanent)
The amount of cool British post-punk records that were released before The Exploited even first spiked their mohawks is staggering. I love that people were bored of punk as early as 1978 (actually probably earlier), and that characters like The Afflicted Man were able to exist, simultaneously carrying punk’s free-wheeling attitude and spitting in the face of those who adhered to its already-established rules. On this thoughtful and attractive LP reissue, The Afflicted Man and his friends take the caveman chug of The Stooges, throw it in a psychedelic bath of extended guitar wailing, and present the results as charming little songs, sturdy as a dub sound-system. If these guys were German, this probably would’ve been an oddball Brain Records release, but these guys are Brits, so they were playing in crappy pubs to angry and confused punks, and thriving off that tension. I’m reminded a lot of Mark Perry and all those strange Alternative TV and Good Missionaries records (that are all still inappropriately cheap to purchase online), but The Afflicted Man seems a bit more deranged and wild, and a little less interested in writing pop songs of any color. It’s great stuff and has a pretty wide range, appealing to all the different kinds of people who ever thought a guitar sounded cool when plugged into an amp. There’s a few Afflicted Man records out there, most of of which are great, and if you’ve been confused about where to begin, Permanent has made it really easy.
Bad Daddies Bad Year EP 7″ (Central District)
Here’s another punk 7″ featuring a crappy photocopied sleeve with a picture of the band standing around looking uncomfortable. If I got a new one of these every week for the rest of my life, I’d die a happy fool! Bad Daddies do a pretty juvenile-sounding hardcore-punk thing, like some cruddy intersection of the Necros / SOA school of hardcore and the snotty ’90s pop-punk of FYP and The Yah Mos. Five bonk-on-the-head punk tunes on the a-side, and a fun cover of Sexual Harrassment’s “If I Gave You A Party” on the b-side, all with a fidelity that makes me think Bad Daddies turned in a well-worn Memorex cassette to the pressing plant, unmastered and defiant. This record is not good, and not special, but I still am happy as hell to be hearing it right now. I am in a band that plays shows with random crappy punk bands on occasion, and it’s one of my favorite aspects of playing shows – hopefully I will get to share a bill with Bad Daddies before they break up, because let’s face it, bands this punk and careless usually break up sooner rather than later. And good for them, I say!
Michael Beach Golden Theft LP (Twin Lakes)
Make a left past the pines, head over a small drawbridge, and about a mile down the path, you’ll be surrounded by hundreds of hairy men in their 30s, big beards and bigger sunglasses, chest-hair coated in salt and sand, drinking good beer and barbequing veggies alongside steaks… you’re arrived at Michael Beach! This guy also plays in a group called The Electric Jellyfish, a name so psychedelically generic I can barely type it out, and that’s alright, because I prefer his solo work, like this nice Golden Theft album, instead. It’s a really pleasant time – Beach plays guitar and sings, and has a band backing him up (including the illustrious Utrillo Kushner, no less), and he seems to fit into all the best guitar genres and none of them – one song might call to mind Will Oldham, the next might smack you like The Jam, another smiles like the Promise Ring, and one more weeps like Neil Young. Hooks might be a little hidden at first, but they do jump out, and the mood is so warm and welcoming and classy that it’s easy to stick around long enough for them to appear. There seems to be no pretense here, no carefully projected image, just a guy who likes to write and perform rock music, and while that might not make for much of a newsworthy item, you can’t go wrong with Golden Theft.
Rabih Beaini Albidaya LP (Annihaya)
Rabih Beaini is the mastermind behind Morphosis and Ra.H, one of whom is responsible for some of my favorite records of the past couple years, and the other who blew my mind a couple years prior. As far as I know, this is Beaini’s first record under his own name, and I’ll be damned if it isn’t one of his best albums, if not the! While these eight tracks (on the CD – sadly, the LP only gets six of them) are fairly diverse, this is essentially Beaini’s attempt at a free-jazz techno record. I can understand if that sounds like an awkward pairing, but Beanini is one of those guys who steps out to half-court and sinks the million-dollar basket in one try – Albidaya is without a doubt one of my favorite records of the year. The electronics will pulse behind a free-wheeling saxophone, maybe some synth-ooze will soak the sheets of a string section tuning up, or, as on “Song Of Extreme Happiness”, this record will sound like Moritz Von Oswald telepathically communicating with La Monte Young and Chet Baker in some sort of meditation over tea leaves. There’s a slight Sun Ra vibe too, not so much in musical similarity, but the fact that you realize you are listening to a visionary space-alien at work, not a regular human – I mean “Kessara2” sounds like the best song This Heat never wrote. This record ain’t cheap, it’s a Lebanese import, but you need it! You do!
Beaters Jester / 911 = 11 7″ (Volar)
I chuckled at the name “Beaters”… I mean they could be beating anything, from eggs to dicks, so this band was alright by me before the first note hit. Then the first note hit, and well, I guess they’re still okay. “Jester” sends some New Romantic guitars to guide a Cure-ish verse, at least until the chorus, at which point they get a little more rockin’ (or at least the drummer becomes noticeably excited). Depending on their hairstyles, I may be willing to even call this one “modern goth”, but who knows, they might look like Smashmouth and totally throw me off course. I don’t see how 911 equals 11, but it gives Beaters an excuse to put on some John Varvatos leather jackets and pose for the camera as if they were The Strokes, the singer doing his best “I just woke up” vocals and the music chiming along with the taut rhythms that The Strokes explored on their later albums, but still soaked in “Jester”‘s new-wave motif. Not feeling it as much as the a-side, but hey, I’m not going to stop Beaters from beating.
Dead Air Dead Air LP (Load)
Dead Air comes from the ashes of Black Clouds (or so I’ve been led to believe), a Massachusetts guitar/drums duo that were okay on vinyl but allegedly phenomenal live. Dead Air are two guitars and drums, and they beef up the Black Clouds sound with meaner riffs, less-obvious garage moves and a general thuggery you’d frequently find on AmRep (I’m thinking Cows or Tar). Kind of a Hammerhead vibe too, in that these songs frequently play out like a slowed-down, creeping Karp. Is that enough band names for ya? At first, Dead Air kinda went in one ear and out the other, only scraping out a little wax and brain matter as it went, but as I listen now I’m finding that these songs are a little beefier and longer-lasting than I initially thought. I mean, it’s a Load release, and when guitars are involved, these records are built Ford tough. Now if only Denis Leary was angrily ranting over top, this might be one of my year-end favorites, but it’s a solid showing just the same.
Donato Dozzy Donato Dozzy Plays Bee Mask LP (Spectrum Spools)
Donato Dozzy is one of my favorite techno guys – not only does he change up his sound considerably from release to release, he always sounds good doing it. He’s like one of those guys who looks as good in a suit as he does a cut-off Amebix tee, so if you hate him for his smooth versatility I won’t hold it against you; I’m a little jealous too. Last I heard from him, he was high on soft-core Skinemax techno, and now he is remixing the artist Bee Mask, a CD-r / tape-releasing electronic guy whose name I have seen but music I haven’t heard (maybe because I’m not much of a CD-r / tape consumer). Dozzy goes entirely Pop Ambient on this set, stretching bits and pieces of Bee Mask’s sound until it envelops the room – it’s kind of like the Harry Pussy
Eat Skull The Where’d You Go? EP 7″ (Volar)
Eat Skull are a group I essentially stopped listening to a year or two ago, but it wasn’t a harsh breakup – I like their music, I just kind of had enough, you know? Much like squinting at tiny text, listening to their music makes my ears squint, trying to hear the actual guitars and drums through the hazy din of lo-fi recording techniques. They definitely have some hits peppered throughout their discography, and so I looked forward to checking back in on this 7″, which is pretty clearly a “oh, you wanna do a single? Sure, I think I have some extra tracks laying around…” job. The two a-side cuts are just as I remember Eat Skull to be – buoyant, stoned and joyous, bopping through their homespun indie-rock like a child demolishing a neatly raked pile of leaves. The b-side’s “Jefferson Angel” is even more chill, leaving amplification behind for an acoustic guitar, a measly drum machine and the big wide open sky above, an instrumental track that was seemingly written to exist on the b-side of a 7″. I don’t know, I feel like we are five years after the lo-fi indie trend, which is the exact point of peak exhaustion / backlash, but I still dug these Eat Skull songs. Some bands are just unimpeachably cool, no matter what the weather is.
Marcus Fjellström Epilogue -M- EP 12″ (Aagoo)
In case you thought Aagoo was just here to dance in indie-electro euphoria with White and roll on club floors with Hunters, they have revealed their snooty college-educated worldliness with this Marcus Fjellström record, he being a Swedish electro-acoustic composer. The label is calling this an EP, but you really get a whole lot of music on here, the majority of which floats in an uneasy space between calm and danger – it’s like watching shark-infested waters and not seeing a damn thing, but you still know what is most likely lurking nearby. Through the use of repetitive chimes, stiff percussion and plenty of natural roominess, Fjellström makes me feel like I’m stuck inside an ancient grandfather clock that is trying to die. If a ballet is ever performed to this, the dancers are definitely in all black and flopping around in anguish rather than gracefully pirouetting. It’s decent enough, and maybe if modern composers were my bread and butter I’d really be digging it, but there isn’t anything particularly exciting or crazy or soothing about Epilogue -M- that I can rave about. It’s a nice record to set the mood in a room, but I also own some killer candles for that very purpose.
Gag Gas Mask ’95 7″ flexi (Perennial)
I dug Gag’s 40 Oz. Rule ’90 single from earlier this year, even if I was still a little wary of its “what’s cool in hardcore today” vibe. And now I’m pretty sure they won me over entirely with this superfluous piece of art! Maybe I just love one-sided clear flexis (this isn’t even the only one reviewed this month!), but the killer fold-out poster sleeve and general “we don’t give a fuck” attitude are hard to argue with. Only two songs, the first of which (“Chains & Barbed Wire”) is a rugged bid at a Chaos In Tejas invite. “Warm Milk” follows, after some tape manipulation and unexpected saxophoning, and it’s more of a hardcore smear than an actual song, the sort of quick jolt that feels more like five Bllleeeeaaauuurrrrgghhh! tracks in rapid succession than a single punk song. I love the flippancy Gag put on display here, the mix of barely-considered hardcore music and beautifully-constructed punk art, the way bands used to do it before they just sat in front of computers all day. Not sure I even fully like Gag, but if they keep making records like this I will continue to insist on owning them.
Golden Pelicans The Earls / Chained To The Dumpster 7″ (Total Punk)
Pretty sure this is the second Golden Pelicans single I’ve received, and as I have no recollection of the first one beyond the band’s name, my hopes weren’t super high. Then I read the song title “Chained To The Dumpster” and my hopes got incredibly high! I blazed through “The Earls”, a hard-rockin’ garage stomper with plenty of vocal vehemence, but let’s face it, I was just biding my time until I got to hear a song called “Chained To The Dumpster”. I finally made it there, and sadly it wasn’t the mind-altering experience it should’ve been, but there are probably only one or two bands that could write a song up to the title’s strength, and they’re probably both dead by now. Instead, I’m reminded of OBN IIIs, or maybe The Saints if they were fronted by a grown man perfecting his Darby Crash accent. Cool stuff for sure, and hopefully this propels Golden Pelicans toward “bands my brain has remembered” status. Oh and the drummer is named Lil Stink, and it’s not just one of his bandmates playing a prank, because he is credited with the layout as well. This band just keeps growing on me!
Gorgon Sound Gorgon Sound EP 2×12″ (Peng Sound)
Gorgon Sound come from Bristol’s fresh new Young Echo crew of electronic dance guys who mostly just look like 8th Grade boys (at least they look that way to me – I must be really getting old). I know there are lots of other Young Echo-related records I need to check out, but I feel like this is going to be a hard one to touch – the packaging is beautiful, and the songs are so damn sweet. I didn’t know what to expect, except that it was supposed to be good, so I was surprised to hear that Gorgon Sound is pretty straight-forward electronic reggae, of all things. Sure, Gorgon Sound update the classic digi-reggae sound of the mid-’80s with today’s post-dubstep production values, but they keep the core as true and chill as any non-Jamaican could – imagine one of those great Yellowman or Augustus Pablo records from like ’85 through ’89, or maybe Dadawah’s Peace & Love album remixed by Boddika, and you’re pretty close to what Gorgon Sound is repping. I could compare it to Kutz, another modern UK producer working a modern-blasted reggae swing, but these Gorgon Sound songs are so sweetly uplifting and dark that they hit a much smoother spot than Kutz’s in-the-red bass drops. The two vocal tracks are by far the best (both Junior Dread and Guy Calhoun are top-shelf singers), but the instrumentals don’t drag either. I really can’t wait for more!
Grim Love Song LP (Art Into Life / Eskimo)
Grim seems to be one of the lesser-praised Japanese noise artists to come out of the ’80s, and I don’t think it’s because of any musical deficit, so much that Grim’s discography is sparse and understated. Still, Jun Konagaya (the man behind Grim) is an artist that seems ripe for the Vinyl On Demand treatment (super-obscure and high-quality output, with a bizarre aesthetic), but he hasn’t moved onto civilian life just yet, as proven by this fantastic new LP. For no good reason, it comes in a sturdy box with a unique art print inside (and I am a sucker for unique art prints), and the music lives up to this lofty presentation. Grim will re-appropriate religious ceremony music in an unsettling manner befitting of Black To Comm, he’ll piece together hallucinatory audio footage ala Nurse With Wound, pound out grinding noise like Hanatarash, or gargle up some psychobabble ala Runzelstirn & Gurgelstøck, and it all bears his unique stamp while smoothly flowing from one concept to the next. It’s a strange trip, but I can’t find a wasted moment or unfortunate stumble from start to finish – it’s like entering a really professional haunted house, one that you can’t help but admire as the crap is getting scared out of you. The fact that Konagaya must be in his 50s (at least!) and is still this demented only makes Love Song that much more appealing. I can only hope I’m still feverishly screaming into a smelly microphone at his age!
Head High Burning 12″ (Power House)
Head High is another alias of René Pawlowitz, whom you and I know better as Shed and occasionally The Traveller. Under those names, he’s released some of my favorite electronic music of the past couple years, so I had to hear what Head High was about. It’s certainly different from the Pawlowitz I know – this EP is purely early-’90s rave-house, like it was plucked from a Fantazia party in 1992. “Burning (Keep Calm Mix)” is truest to the form, really jamming those familiar piano chords hard, with only the slightest hint of present-day production surrounding the bass/snare interplay and overall texture. “Keep On Talking (Dirt Mix)” starts off like Elgato or Pearson Sound or some other Hessle Audio troublemaker, but then a warbly keyboard makes its way to the front, followed by those classic hi-hats, and the result is not unlike something Untold would dip his toes into. “Burning (Keep It Mix)” finishes off the title track with a more psychedelic cymbal effect, like they are tripping over themselves as that same set of chords is dutifully hammered on the piano as if Fast Eddie just entered the club. Maybe it’s because I know this is Shed in a different costume, but Burning has really been doing it for me, poking me in a rib I didn’t know I had, the one that dresses like Dwayne Wayne and wears AIDS-activism t-shirts. Time to dance!
Hero Dishonest Alle Lujaa LP (Peterwalkee)
Not sure why it’s the case, but hardcore-punks tend to age better in non-American countries. Most hardcore groups with guys in their 40s and up in the US are cheesy cash-grab reunion acts, whereas if you travel to Japan or Germany or whatever, you are much more likely to find thrash-minded, squat-residing punk guys still screening their own shirts in their basement and raging with the fury of teenagers. Hero Dishonest are a good case in point – this Finnish group has been around since like 1989, and rather than ever entering a melodic phase (or worse, a Hot Topic phase), they flail through their songs like Gauze or The Futures, just ballistic thrash-punk with tight changes, hysteric vocals and plenty of guitar meltdowns. Occasionally they veer into crossover territory, but they still blaze, so it’s like listening to a Crumbsuckers album on 45. The Finnish language is cool, lots of rolled Rs, so it frequently sounds like the vocalist is just spouting off karate sound-effects to my English ears, an appropriate vocal pairing to Hero Dishonest’s music. I wish my uncles were this punk!
Hoax Hoax LP (no label)
The hardcore LP is a tricky endeavor. There are countless hardcore bands who debuted with killer 7″ EPs, only to get lost by the time their album came out, either losing their fire, spreading themselves too thin, or complicating the hardcore formula to unfortunate ends. Hoax are probably the best modern hardcore band today, I’m not afraid to make that claim, and thankfully they avoid such pitfalls in their debut LP, a true testament to what down-tuned mosh-riffs, smashed foreheads and aggressive pessimism can combine to create. I could go on and on about the great cover photo and the insane undertaking of six giant poster inserts, but my reviews are short, so I’ll get right to the music – it’s the Hoax we all know and love, blasting through eleven rippers and one perfectly crusty intro care of Pharmakon. They push through d-beat ragers, Celtic Frost-style stompers and full-on mosh bliss (complete with a breakdown where the Rival Mob guy yells “break down!”), teetering between the “mysterious guy” hardcore scene that birthed them, Southern Lord doom and just pure beautiful hardcore-punk. It may not be as immediately visceral as their second EP (the Youth Attack one), but it is just as intensely satisfying, complete with their weird Los Angeles fetish that ends the album (and, if rumors are true, the band?). If you tell me you like hardcore and you haven’t picked this up already, just lie to me and tell me you have so I don’t lose all respect, okay?
Itinerant Dubs Itinerant Magic 12″ (Itinerant Dub)
Here’s another cool mystery techno project worth unraveling. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say this is a Mark Fell project, and here’s why – he’s prone to other “anonymous” techno guises, the music is marked with the way he likes to float in and out of rhythmic stability, and it comes distributed straight from Honest Jon’s (which means this ain’t no amateur hour). “Itinerant Magic” is nine minutes of aerated dance-hall bleeps, bristly percussion, slurred vocals and woozy loops, all moving through your field of vision at their own individual paces. Same mostly goes for “Jack The Dub”, using a nearly identical selection of sounds, but delivering a harder edge by way of what seems to be a chopped-and-screwed jungle beat. “Monkey” is the short finisher, combining windswept plains and thick rainforest vegetation as the sounds of the first two tracks are carelessly tossed down a flight of stairs for our amusement. I dig the singularity of Itinerant Dubs, and the fact that it fits right into today’s techniverse without specifically sounding like anything else.
Kam Kama Passer-By / Joseph Stride 7″ (Sister Cylinder)
Just gonna put this out here right away – if Kam Kama do an album, they gotta title it Chameleon, because I can’t get that Culture Club song out of my head while thinking about Kam Kama. Musically, there isn’t much of a connection there, but Kam Kama have a sound that certainly could have existed simultaneously as Culture Club, as they work a moody power-pop / early new-wave vibe in both of these songs. I’m thinking of the less-notable, more commercial-sounding bands on Bands That Could Be God, or maybe it’s some other vaguely-new wave Boston band that bears distinct Kam Kama vibes to my ears. “Passer-By” is a speedy tune, subdued and stern in its delivery, and “Joseph Stride” is the chilled out jam, the sort of melancholy tune that helps explain why roughly five million young adults wear different versions of that Joy Division Unknown Pleasures design on their shirts, jackets, totes, hoodies and iPad cases. A little like The Cure too, but it never explodes with emotion, just kinda simmers, and feels like the sort of morose-but-not-too-morose goth-rock that might’ve made it onto The Crow soundtrack if it was a double LP. Pretty decent, if ultimately unmemorable, but I get the feeling Kam Kama are just getting started. And by the way, if it wasn’t clear earlier, I like the name!
Kwaidan Make All The Hell Of Dark Metal Bright LP (Bathetic)
You know when you’re watching one of those modern “aliens coming to bring the apocalypse” movies, and they go between scenes of the soon-to-be hero at home with their family and shots of massive grey-black space-vessels slowly creeping toward our planet? The music of Kwaidan is perfect for one of those two scenarios, and I’m sure that once I tell you that the group features a member of Locrian, you won’t need me to tell you which. The rumbly, crumbly low-end is constant, and it’s spiked with occasional shots of percussion, acting more like buoys floating in a dark ocean than any sort of musical time-keeper. Kwaidan invokes rhythms here and there, usually in some sort of mechanical-industrial sense, but even when all cylinders are firing it feels more like a morbid space-float than any sort of rock or techno music (even when they get all Explosions In The Sky-ish with chiming guitars, it still doesn’t feel very post-rock). I like this sort of thing here and there, and Make All The Hell Of Dark Metal Bright fits the bill nicely. I don’t know how some people have the patience to be in one group like this, let alone a couple, but I guess there are some who live for the meditative power that only the subtle drift of a heavy drone can provide.
Male Bondage Love Moon LP (Glory Hole Drink Or Die)
Glory Hole has sent me what seems like a hundred of their releases at this point. I know that’s not the case, but the majority of these records are just so boringly decent that I look at them much in the same way I remember looking at my homework back in school, the sort of numbing chore that weighs me down until I trudge through it. This Male Bondage LP is no exception – these guys offer a bottom-heavy take on angular indie-rock with burly screamed vocals, like a really dull version of Fucked Up, Queens Of The Stone Age and At The Drive-In all blended together with a slight metallic edge. They are technically proficient, and perform these songs with a keen level of accuracy, but if that sort of emotionless data was what I cared about, I’d be better off writing a blog about electrical meter readings. As I near the end of this review, I am starting to feel kind of excited, knowing that, while Male Bondage have not wronged me in the slightest, I will soon be free of the weight of having to think about and then write about this record. But if you generally hate my taste, and wear a band hoodie more than one day a week, you should throw “Male Bondage Glory Hole” into a Google search and see what you stumble upon.
Missing Foundation Missing Foundation LP (Dais)
Dais has been a pretty sweet label from the get-go, and has a nice selection of modern artists in their roster, but it’s their knack for reissues where they really knock it out of the park. Their reissue discography is like a weird noise lover’s dream, and it now includes the first two Missing Foundation albums, a group who seem to have been forgotten in the excavation of great ’80s noise (at least until recently). Missing Foundation is their debut album, and man is it sweet – musically, this group just punished anything in their path. They will wallow in harsh, decaying noise with screamed vocals looping like sirens, splay their guitars over crappy beats like an even more nihilistic No Trend, and rumble the speakers so severely that you’ll find yourself standing in a doorway like it’s an earthquake drill. The chaos of Crash Worship tempered with the intensity of Swans, a real winning combination. Missing Foundation is a masterpiece, and the fact that these guys weren’t just art provocateurs, but actual deranged street-dwellers, out committing petty crimes and destruction, makes it that much sweeter. I am on the hunt for an original copy, but in the meantime this Dais reissue is the perfect place-marker on my shelf.
Missing Foundation 1933 / Your House Is Mine LP (Dais)
Here’s the second Missing Foundation LP, also graciously presented by Dais, and depending on the time of day you ask me, I might say it’s even better than Missing Foundation! This one feels like more of a rock record on the whole than their debut, and it predates so many great things to come in the underground – the maniacal spew of Harry Pussy’s Ride A Dove; vocals that recall frozen black-metal tundras; the harsh monotony of power-electronics; and pretty much every iteration of noise-rock, from the beefy ’90s AmRep sound to the modern-day Twin Stumpses and New Fleshes… Missing Foundation lay a wide, umm, foundation for so many nasty forms of underground noise. Even the dated drum machines sound pretty perfect for the wild vocal ranting and errant noises that accompany them. I can’t imagine how crazy this record must’ve sounded back in 1988, because it’s a quarter of a century later and this still sounds pretty unstable and deranged to my jaded, heard-it-all-before ears. I enjoy being able to get a kale-infused lavender kefir smoothie when I visit New York, but Missing Foundation make me long for a New York where you’d get punched out just for saying “kale-infused lavender kefir smoothie” on the street.
Moin EP 12″ (Blackest Ever Black)
Once I heard about the impending release of this Moin EP, I was eager to get my paws on it – Moin is actually Raime under a different name, for reasons I didn’t initially understand. Apparently they recorded this on some whim and wanted to keep the project separate, and it makes perfect sense once you hear it – it might feel like Raime, but it certainly doesn’t sound like it. Most noticeably, Moin seems to be a rock group, using drums, bass, guitar and vocals, even if they are might actually be all chopped up and manipulated on a computer. I was actually really thrown for a loop by the opener “Murphy” – it starts with some minimal, post-punk guitar tension, like maybe This Heat or Loren Connors or something, but then the drums bust out this emo-core riff, and some guy actually screams an emo vocal! Who would’ve guessed. And then “Stacie” hits, and it’s almost like I’m listening to Fugazi’s 13 Songs or Tool’s Undertow as remixed by Raime, where the guts of the music are pulled out and hung from the rafters in some sort of grotesque art installation. I have to say, the sheer unexpectedness of Moin’s EP has really impressed me – I would’ve never guessed that they’d go in this direction. Hell, I’m not sure anyone has gone in this direction before, so while it’s certainly not my favorite record this month (and weirdly calls to mind Lil Wayne’s guitar-rock record in its inexplicable genre repurposing), it’s been a really pleasurable experience.
The Mole Caregiver 2xLP (Maybe Tomorrow)
There are a handful of electronic producers who have made certain insanely good tracks that I follow them for years after the fact, hoping that they will capture the magic once more. Gerry Read and Cosmin TRG are great examples – I absolutely loved the first records I heard by both of those guys, and have kept up with them for at least half a dozen records since, none of which came close to my initial experience. The Mole is one of them, too – “Dreamer” is one of the smoothest barely-house tracks I’ve ever heard, a perfectly executed loop that I never want to end (as evidenced by my iTunes play-count). I’ve spent a good bit of time with Caregiver, and don’t get me wrong, this is a fine album of modern tech-house, drafted with a wide palette of instruments, samples and effects, it just never quite touches my soul like “Dreamer” did. If I heard “Hey Miss” or “Our Time Has Come” out somewhere, I would no doubt shake my rump, and they feel mighty good on a night-drive with the windows down, I just can’t say that there is a truly standout track in the bunch. I’m gonna blame that one on my lofty expectations, not The Mole, though – this guy is cool, and Cavegiver is as sophisticated and enjoyable as any dance album you’ll find this year.
Lee Noble Ruiner LP (Bathetic)
I’m gonna credit Kurt Vile as the guy to start the modern-day “rock n’ roll outsider standing around with his guitar and an amp on the cover” style, so when I saw Lee Noble posed similarly, I already had a freeway in mind. The first song kicks in, and I’m feeling the Kurt Vile vibes musically too… at least before Noble pushes the song further and further away from the earth, leaving us all to drift in the atmosphere, Sandra Bullock-style. Noble never returns to his home planet on Ruiner – this is as hazy and faded as any drone record, but somewhere in this giant cozy womb, Noble is strumming his tiny little songs. I think Kurt Vile actually does have a few tracks like these, the bubbly, psychedelic interludes that peppered his early records, but Noble really expands that idea, forgoing songs entirely and getting all kaleidoscopic with visions of red cherries and distant planets and naked bodies drifting through your field of vision. At first, I was hoping he’d bust out a song or two, but I quickly learned to enjoy the drifting, ambient headspace Noble inhabits, and pluck a purple apple off an orange tree while looking at my distorted reflection in a nearby pond. I’m surprised the poster over my turntable didn’t turn blacklight as Ruiner swirled around.
Perfume River No Wind 7″ flexi (Symphony Of Destruction)
I saw this Perfume River flexi on a shelf at a record shop, and it’s a hard record to ignore – screen-printed, die-cut, fold-over cover, clear one-sided flexi-disc, more skulls and skeletons and dead bodies than your average Xbox game. I understand Perfume River to be a Philly-based side project of one of those Salvation guys, a band I enjoy but have never seen due to their eight-minute live sets and early show slotting (I perpetually arrive five minutes after they finished). This one definitely sounds like a side-project, but in a good way – this is a band that efficiently and powerfully delivers raw and meaty d-beat hardcore, heavy on the Shitlickers and Anti-Cimex vibe. The riffs change, but the songs remain the same, and I have no qualms with that… this is war-atrocity hardcore and it delivers the goods, these four songs gunning in and out before you know it. Maybe if the art wasn’t so cool, or this guy (or guys) wasn’t local, I wouldn’t be quite as enamored, but I am already eager to dip my toes in the Perfume River again.
Shahman Sounds That Look Like Us LP (Revolution Winter)
Well, the two guys on the cover look like twins, both with beards, one in a flannel button-up, the other in a t-shirt… so I guess Sounds That Look Like Us does sound how they look. Which is to say, modern post-emo guitar-rock. You know, guys that were probably in more straight-forward hardcore and emo bands in their teenage years and early 20s (presuming they’ve been going at it that long), who have comfortably evolved into playing basically the same thing but with various mature influences, like shoegaze and prog and Pitchfork’s Best New Music. I’m reminded of The Red Scare at times, and A Place To Bury Strangers at others – this is definitely heavy post-emo rock where a variety of amplifiers and effects pedals are tried out, complete with screamed vocals during the loud parts and sung vocals during the quiet parts. Anyway, if you’re wondering if it’s good… I guess so? This sort of music really doesn’t appeal to me; I am definitely not going to upload Shahman to any playlist of mine, but they are talented enough, and they keep things moving at a pace that keeps boredom from ever setting in too badly. Not sure that “countless shades of presence haunt this record”, as the back cover boldly claims, but maybe I’m just not cut out for grasping shades of presence in the first place.
Sleaford Mods Austerity Dogs LP (Harbinger Sound)
In this day and age of “try before you buy” being the record shopping norm, horrible surprise purchases happen less and less to all of us. But I’ll admit it, Fusetron (or perhaps more accurately, Harbinger Sound) got me on this one! I was salivating over the description, which had me expecting some sort of brutal mix of Whitehouse, Regis and Blitz, like the meanest UK artists of the past forty years all melded into one horrifying album. I put it on, and it was as if Nelson from The Simpsons slapped the back of my head with one of his trademark “ha-ha”s. Sleaford Mods actually sound like Native Cats or Arab Strap fronted by two angry ranting skinheads, big loudmouth skins who don’t stop yelling at you even after the cops arrive. That’s the extent of it – simple, near-mellow drum machine / bass / looped-sample musical accompaniment and these raving lunatics. Once my shock and embarrassment wore off, I realized that I actually do like Austerity Dogs – these guys are truly nuts (and there’s a full lyric sheet included!), embodying the street-level violence and fear of England much in the way that Hank Wood & The Hammerheads did for New York City a year ago. It’s pretty unique, more than a little vulgar, and one of the more interesting albums I’ve heard in a while. I’m still warning you, though – find an MP3 before you start writing a check!
Soft Riot No Longer Stranger LP (Volar)
Seems like at least once a month, I get another solo synth-wave album, usually with a picture of the artist dressed up like they played bass for Siouxsie And the Banshees or something. This seems to be a style of music most people are able to perform competently, and I love it when it’s great. I’m not sure I can say Soft Riot is great, but No Longer Stranger is definitely good! Most of these songs are slower than dancing-speed, which gives it a different character than the rest of the synthy bunch – Soft Riot is in no rush, and gives all his beats plenty of room to breathe. Nothing is overloaded, so each time a new warble or plink is introduced, it matters. The vocals are thankfully more in the Alan Vega “murderous whisper” style than the dreaded “forced Ian Curtis baritone”, a move I consider to be a true Night Sin (get it?). The more I listen to this one, the more I like it, which is often the opposite for this style of record… Soft Riot is just unique enough, mixing Gary Numan with Nervous Gender in a pleasing way (and covering a Hoover song in acknowledgement of what must be some hardcore roots, an aspect that I appreciate as so many ex-punkers-turned-ravers seem desperate to distance themselves from a couple years ago). Check it out!
Sokea Piste Ajatus Karkaa LP (Peterwalkee)
Peterwalkee continues their Finnish exchange program with a reissue of Sokea Piste’s 2011 album Ajatus Karkaa. Just like their earlier 7″, this isn’t your standard Finnish hardcore sound – Sokea Piste are far moodier, with plenty of tension and depression running through their music. I’m actually kind of reminded of some of the more pessimistic American emo-core groups of the ’90s, like Halfman and Merel, groups that flung themselves into hardcore in a mess of frustration and tangled guitar cords. Sokea Piste never get to the point where they’re rolling on the floor, though – there’s still a significant low-end and rhythmic-adherence to show that these guys are probably listening to way more Totalitär or Out Cold or whatever Kangaroo Records has co-released in the past twenty years than any Ebullition product. And maybe just a touch of AmRep misery in there, too? Whatever Sokea Piste’s influences actually are, it certainly works for them, bringing all sorts of gloom to hardcore without relying on images of atomic bombs and war crimes. I have no idea what any of these songs are about, they’re all in Finnish, but I still feel it, you know?
Whatever Brains Whatever Brains LP (Sorry State)
In what feels like only a year or so (but I’m sure it’s closer to three), here’s the third Whatever Brains album, in which they still take a pass on the delightful practice of naming your albums. Wasted opportunity, boys! Anyway, I have been a Whatever Brains fan since I first heard them – I haven’t heard a Whatever Brains record I didn’t like, and still, I’m kinda wondering who was really anticipating this third album right now. It’s just a lot, you know? But whatever (brains), this third one is another quality product. I can tell you how it differs from prior releases: way more keyboard-y, slower pace, kind of a maniacal new-wave vibe ala Gary Numan at times, and far fewer hardcore or punk moments. The singer’s elastic, nasally vocal is the one constant, purposely annoying but still cool enough to wear sunglasses on stage, and the songs still call to mind mid-’00s post-punk ala The Intelligence or The Unnatural Helpers or maybe even Dan Melchior and Jay Reatard if you want to go a little further out. As good a starting point as any for a Whatever Brains novice, but if they come at me with the fourth LP six months from now, I’m gonna just be repeating myself unless they drastically change things up (I’m talking sinus-cavity surgery for the singer).
Whore Paint Swallow My Bones LP (Load)
Here’s a band whose name I don’t feel comfortable saying in front of strangers, which was probably at least part of their rationale for going with it. They’re a Providence-based noise-rock group, of which there is a storied and diverse lineage, and I was all prepared to hoist them up alongside Landed and Arab On Radar and Olyneyville Sound System and the dozens of others. Only thing is, I’m really not that into this record. The singer kind of does this operatic heavy-metal style of vocalizing, one that I’m not a fan of (don’t let any Teenage Jesus comparisons fool you, there is no out-of-tune caterwauling here), and the music is all fancy-pants riffing and dramatic chord progressions, the sort of musical showboating that leaves me wondering where the closest group of teenagers practicing in a basement is. The recording is crystal clear too, which the producer is probably proud of, but it lacks the sonic spit that I look for in my burly, mean-mugging rock music. Still haven’t seen this group live yet, so maybe I’ll fall in love then, but for now I am just kind of relieved that I don’t have to rave about “Whore Paint” to my friends and have my mom accidentally overhear.
Woodsman Orphan My Name Is Ishmael Ali LP (Obscure Me)
Neil Young may be Neil Old at this point, but I’ll be damned if there aren’t more indie-rockers touched by his music now than there were ten or twenty years ago. I’m not saying Woodsman Orphan are purposely trying to reenact a still-living man, but the sad campfire Fraggle rock of My Name Is Ishmael Ali shares a few signifiers. The vocalist sure goes full-on with the tribute, and the band mostly just shuffles along like Low, or Bright Eyes, or the little-remembered Troubleman group Kepler (at least I dug them, okay?). So while Woodsman Orphan self-identify as freak-folk (that’s one warning sign), they’re really more like a late-’90s slow-core emo group with a taste for their parents’ record collections. It’s not bad, but I probably have a higher tolerance for this sort of pap more than most of you – it must be some sort of genetic defect, but I can sit through Pedro The Lion like nobody’s business. I just hope Woodsman Orphan don’t dress up like their idea of poor people when they get on stage, or I’ll take back all the nice things I said.
Zola Jesus Versions LP (Sacred Bones)
For as nonplussed as the last Zola Jesus album left me, I still consider myself a permanent fan. She’s just written too many great songs, and has too distinct a voice and presence in the modern indie-goth realm for me ever turn my back. I was excited to hear Versions, as the idea of a stripped down, classical take on some of her best songs sounded like a sweet deal. Unfortunately, I think it was sweeter on paper than in action – Versions is a nice project, but one that ultimately makes me wish I was listening to the original songs instead. The best Zola Jesus songs are usually pretty simple – three repeating, staggered notes over which she belts out her best Siouxsie Danzig (or is that Glenn Sioux?), with synths blaring, smoke-machines churning and percussion blasting. When given a string section to fill the musical void, these songs sound quaint and pretty, but also a little boring – it’s like I’m sipping on chamomile in a Victorian bed-and-breakfast instead of being tied to a leather chair and doused with black coffee. Listening to “Night” on here, probably my favorite song she’s ever done, I can’t help but think that this would’ve made for a neat UK-only b-side or something, as opposed to her next authorized full-length album. I caught her live show in support of Versions, and it was actually really incredible though – the beats sounded more blown-out and heavier through a live PA system, and she really sung her heart out, unlike some of her softer performances here. My love remains intact!
Alberich Machine Gun Nest: Cassette Works Volume 0 LP (Hospital Productions)
Alberich is probably my favorite current Hospital artist – when it comes to decaying industrial electronics, he just knows how to work it. And as I’m not one to hunt down cassettes, this LP collection is just what I needed. Machine Gun Nest is top-shelf material, and it offers a deeper clarity to that which Alberich has previously built; these songs sound like songs with noise built into them, not a giant buzzing cloud of noise that might reveal the shape of a song over time. It’s varied enough, too – Alberich easily slips through Silent Servant-style dungeon-techno, Haus Arafna’s morbid sexuality and the militant noise of Genocide Organ, and it all totally works. Even the ambient tracks provide a nice level of eerie calm, like the weather right before a hurricane hits, and I can’t get enough of the frequently-used warbly vocal effect (also well-utilized on Pharmakon’s recent album). I kinda wish that Hospital didn’t suddenly become an import label (can’t you leave the few good American electronic labels alone, Boomkat?), but between you and me, I’m willing to pay double for a record like this one.
Back To Back Flesh & Bone 7″ (Lockin’ Out)
From the first few seconds of “Flesh & Bone”, it’s clear that this is another modern hardcore group to have fallen under Hoax’s spell – from the mean-mugging riff to the way the singer grunts right along with the first full-band note, the only thing this record’s missing is a welted forehead. I love Hoax though, and I’m certainly not complaining about Back To Back either – indebted they are, for sure, but they make good use of the constant and evenly downpicked riffs, the tom-heavy mosh parts, the brief song lengths and a tasteful amount of echo on the vocals. It’s not as heavy as Hoax, and Back To Back’s scale tips closer to punk than metal, which is generally how I prefer it (“Society Scar” is a speedy rager than puts a little distance to the Hoax comparison). Kinda cool that this came out on Lockin’ Out, a label I have always admired aesthetically but never wanted to really listen to (except for RZL DZL of course), as this sort of rigid, Ildjarn-flavored hardcore-punk can apparently inspire kids in Supreme gear as much as kids in Death In June necklaces. Although come to think of it, those two sects have probably combined at this point anyway.
Bassholes Boogieman Stew LP (Columbus Discount)
Putting out any record is a labor of love these days, but putting out a record that comes in a stamped and stickered manilla envelope that’s just barely big enough to squeeze the actual LP into (and nearly impossible for a layman like myself to put back in easily)… that’s a real labor of love right there, probably verging on a labor of hate after the first dozen stuffings. Bassholes are another Columbus rock band with multiple albums spanning many years that I have never heard, and while most recent Columbus Discount releases have been hitting a real sweet spot for me, one where beer and bitterness and stormy guitar-rock interect, this Bassholes album is just kinda okay. It’s a pretty rough recording, rougher than your average Cheater Slicks live album even, but just as surly, and twice as saucy. At times, an image of Lamps playing at one of those crappy “cowboy” bars with a mechanical bull comes to mind, and at others, I get the distinction impression that Boogieman Stew is what would happen if Guinea Worms decided to mock honky-tonk blues via imitation and record it inside a small tin can. It’s decent, just not something I’m going to think about in a couple weeks, and even if I had the urge to listen to it two weeks from now, I’d have to contend with that skin-tight envelope all over again… Bassholes are probably delighted that they don’t make it easy for me, of that I have no doubt.
Bits Of Shit Meat Thump / W. W. Me 7″ (Total Punk)
The Bits Of Shit album came in an extra-glossy jacket with a cartoon dog-man on the cover, a package that always seemed a little too cutesy-clean for this group. Thank goodness they’re finally in one of these cheap and crumply Total Punk sleeves, right where this music belongs. “Meat Thump” has to acknowledge the group of the same name in some way, there’s no way it’s a coincidence, but I cannot detect any affiliation – it’s just a sneering slice of negative punk vibes. Did the vocalist always sound this much like Doc Dart? “W. W. Me” is meaner than the a-side, kind of a Child Molesters vibe but with the vocalist’s same helium squeak irritating everyone in sight. I feel like any Total Punk single is a safe bet at this point, I mean at the very least it’s gonna be decent, but this Bits Of Shit single surprised me with its bad attitude and raw delivery. The name still grosses me out too, so I’d say Bits Of Shit were successful on all fronts.
Chevalier Avant Garde Hilary / Those Who Suffer 7″ (Beko)
Had no idea what to expect from this single, which looks like some sort of textbook you have to buy for community college art class, plus the whole having “avant garde” in your band name thing, which just seems improper. Whatever though, this record is cool, dare I say it’s cool-wave even, since it’s not quite cold enough for cold-wave, but brisk just the same. “Hilary” has a vibe somewhere between Automelodi and Asylum Party, real dreary and melancholy synth stylings, the sort of song that should be shown with an alternate version of the “Take On Me” video where the comic book boy doesn’t get the girl and just slits his wrist, bleeding out black ink until he fades from the page. “Those Who Suffer” is a little less morose, as the bass-line gets downright funky while Mr. Chevalier bounces his vocal down a hallway of mirrors. If Tin Man played Dance Party USA in 1988, maybe he would’ve done a track like this? Aesthestically-speaking, Chevalier Avant Garde seems incredibly out of step with today’s Wierd / Sacred Bones synth-style, which may be why I find it so appealing, like they are just outsiders who happened to make a good single of music that is very much en vogue at the moment and have no idea what their records are supposed to look like – or maybe the songs are just nice enough that it doesn’t matter either way.
Chinese Burns Got Lost 7″ (Swashbuckling Hobo)
Swashbuckling Hobo finally shows us a little mercy and gets significantly less goofy with this short n’ simple single by Chinese Burns. The ‘Burns play a pretty generic form of garage-rock in its most basic form, with two notes on the guitar, a drummer that doesn’t need four limbs to play his kit, and a singer whose leather jacket probably smells like a convenience store. If you’re heard The Devil Dogs or The Mummies or The Candy Snatchers or The Oblivians, you’ve heard this style done better, but some people don’t demand the very best, they’ll enjoy any group of slobby drunks with bad attitudes and rude lyrics. I think I fall somewhere in-between, so while I have no beef with Got Lost and its three cuts of heard-it-before garage-punk, it’s already fading out of my memory, much like that fourth slice of pizza I ate last night when I really only wanted two.
Cured Pink Body Body Body 7″ (Black Petal)
I remember Cured Pink from their wonderfully unsettling split 7″ with Penguins, and while I can’t quite remember which group they were, both sides were pretty great, so I looked forward to this one. It’s not what I was expecting (angry noise-ambient with one guy just beating up an inanimate object), but it might actually be better than that! “Body Body Body I Need It I Need It I Need It” unfortunately reminds me of So So Many White White Tigers by title, but it’s actually a really cool take on Public Image dub-provocation with the behavior of an experimental DIY provocateur. Lots of kitchen-sink percussion clanking along to a muddy bass-line and a vocalist who slowly spirals down the drain. “Amnesia (As Answer)” is killer too; it comes with a mutant Jah Wobble vibe that quickly calls to mind the greatest Australian group to ever exist, Slugfuckers, in a way that seems entirely casual and cool and without the slightest bit of the most deadly artistic sin, “trying hard to be weird”. I liked Body Body Body at first, but I’m listening to it again now for the nth time and I think I might be crazy about it.
Dads Invisible Blouse 7″ (Wharf Cat)
Wharf Cat seems like a label that is nothing if not dedicated to Dads, but even still, I didn’t see this one coming – a reissue of Dads’ 2009 debut single. Are there really no other new records to be released? Can’t Dads just churn out another new one? I mean, it’s decent enough, when it comes to lo-fi fuzz-pop with barked nonsense vocals and fall-apart post-screamo improv, but neither song is really much of a song, so much as truncated jams that were probably fun to play and are kinda fun to listen to. These songs really demand little more documentation than to simply pass through the ears of whoever was walking by the garage at the time of recording, so I’m just kinda scratching my head. The b-side in particular sounds like a rudimentary take on what Neon Blud later improved upon, and Dads themselves have gone on to make better records than this. There is one thing that is undoubtedly certain, though, and I can comfortably pronounce without any reservation: this record exists.
Dream Decay NVNVNV LP (Iron Lung)
I appreciate how dedicated to the ‘core Iron Lung is, while still being able to comfortably branch out a bit. Like Dream Decay, for example: this group would never be confused for hardcore (well except maybe by my grandma), but they fit right into Iron Lung’s stable with their big ugly guitars and distorted vocals. The obvious reference point for their sound is Swans – they are definitely going after a great Filth moment of their own, but in a world where Sonic Youth have like thirty years under their belt, screamo came and went, and it’s not uncommon for hardcore kids to have noise side-projects. Besides its Swansiness, NVNVNV mostly hits me like the direct midpoint between Walls’ basement-dwelling post-hardcore and Sword Heaven’s bearded guy dragging a chain covered in cymbals across the floor – very heavy and nearly falling apart, but actually quite coordinated and thoughtful once you let it seep in. Dream Decay even get kind of melodic on the b-side, like Qui if they were actually heavy, but I mostly just want them to flatten the land in front of them with slow-mo drum smashes and detuned guitars. It’s all pretty cool, though!
Earthen Sea / Insect Factory split 12″ (Earthen Zone / Insectfields)
I swear Earthen Sea and Insect Factory just scrubbed the word “GAS” off the cover of this 12″, as those foggy, amber-colored tree limbs are as Zauberberg as you can get. While not exactly a tribute in sound, the vibe of this EP sure fits with Gas’s black-forest ambient, the sort of record that takes you to the middle of the forest and sits you on a stump, with nary a crumb to find your way back home. The Earthen Sea side ebbs and flows like a calm beach, some sort of low-end churning beneath a few crisscrossing sine-waves of higher register. Once things are in motion, they keep swaying until the groove runs out. Insect Factory is a little more diverse in his approach, and willing to poke you a little bit, starting the track with a fire-alarm tone and various scratchy electronics, buzzing like an invisible fly around your head. Reminds me more than a little of Fennesz, in the way the guitar is tickled until it eventually changes colors. This EP makes for a complimentary pairing of dark and light drone, no doubt.
Eastlink Wild Dog / Blood Money 7″ (Aarght!)
Aarght! was one of the first Australian labels in the post-Eddy Current landscape to put out a bunch of cool stuff – they’re always worth a spin. I never heard of Eastlink before, but I could smell the Mikey Young mastering job a mile away, that’s for sure – the guitar sound (and riff) of “Wild Dog” is pure Mikey. Maybe new Australian bands are forming solely for the hope of gaining this great man’s approval? Anyway, that guitar riff is really all this song has going for it, and it never quits (toward the end, another guitar joins in on the fun too), plodding like Brainbombs but with the sonic vibe of The Scientists. “Blood Money” has a garage-y Urinals vibe, although nearly everything is drowned out by all those guitars (is it just one, or is it seven?), although the singer does a good job of staying alive through the turbulence. I’ll admit, if this one wasn’t on Aarght!, I probably would’ve listened a couple times out of respect and then quickly get rid of it, but since it came out on the label that it did, I listened a little harder, in hopes that there was some secret waiting to be unlocked. If there is, I haven’t found it yet, because all I’m really getting out of Eastlink is more store-brand garage-rock that tastes fine, like everything else.
Exiles From Clowntown (No) Original Thort / Into The Light 7″ (Ever/Never)
Starting your record business with an Exiles From Clowntown release seems like a genius move – your musical roster is instantly great, and you can file for bankruptcy in less than a year! Honestly, I wish I was the one releasing Exiles From Clowntown records, as this group is just so slovenly and barely there, they make Cheater Slicks sound like Rush. “(No) Original Thort” rides a slowed-down, narcotized Spin Doctors beat while one guitarist puts on a wig and pretends he’s Thurston Moore and the rest of the band behaves as if they are playing charades and their word is “lugubrious”. “Into The Light” is a bit more plaintive, a Sunday morning confessional by the Exiles’ unwieldy standards, and it might be my favorite track they’ve done thus far. Only 150 copies, so I apologize in advance to all of Yellow Green Red’s 150 readers out there – one copy is already spoken for. Rumor has it that “select editions” of this record were taped and stapled to various walls in New York, which seems like an appropriately foolish measure to me. I hope the entirety of the next Exiles In Clowntown record pressing is just buried in some dude’s backyard, and the label just tells people about it. Fuck it!
Framtid Consuming Shit And Mind Pollution: The Early Demos 1997-2001 LP (540 / Crust War)
In large, near-Cyrillic lettering, the back cover of this record states “By Any Reason War Is Unnecessary”, and I feel like the same could be said about LP collections of demo tapes. But of course, a band like Framtid is an except to many rules, the hardcore-crust lifers that they are. This lavish gatefold release contains four separate demos, starting in 2001 and working its way back to 1997. It sounds great, I mean it’s certainly Framtid, but the recordings are just slightly less heavy than their albums, and by the time we’ve hit 1997, I can clearly hear the improvement and refinement they have undergone in the past sixteen years. Amazingly, they don’t repeat any tracks across any of these demos, so it’s certainly a nice little compendium for the vinyl snob Framtid completist (of which there are plenty). You’ve probably decided if you are going to buy this long before you read this review, but I’d be remiss to not mention the killer booklet that comes along with it. You can play “Where’s Waldo?” with shoelace headbands!
Gasmask Terrör 17101961 7″ (SPHC / Solar Funeral)
This new single is my first exposure to Gasmask Terrör, a name I recognize from years of thumbing through crusty distros, ones where the cardboard box is held together with duct tape and there’s a sleeping (I hope?) dog leashed to it. I never thought twice about them before, maybe I’m just prejudiced against French crust, but this single is okay. Gruff vocals, speedy riffing, Discharge-inspired guitar work, all that stuff. I’d say that 17101961 is recorded a little too clean for my liking though, which could also lead to my second issue – the drums sound more like something off Fat Wreck Chords than Crust War. I can never get into d-beat or crust groups that just sound like a heavier Good Riddance with a different singer, and Gasmask Terrör are certainly guilty of that here – just imagine the guy from Blink 182 singing instead of the Gasmask Terrör guy and see what it does to your listening experience. If there were only a handful of bands doing this sort of thing, I’d probably be more into this single, but when I can easily reach for Skitkids or Totalitär or Anti-Cimex or dozens of other ragers, why wouldn’t I just do that?
Gino And The Goons Play Loud LP (Total Punk)
This Gino And The Goons LP doesn’t look particularly appealing, with its “tourist interpretation of Mexico” artwork and wacky rock ‘n roll names like T-Love and Young Ulf Mandelbass listed in the band member credits. Total Punk isn’t exactly known for a careful artistic touch when it comes to design, though, I mean you are lucky if the stamp on the back cover of their singles didn’t partially miss, and so many of these Total Punk albums have been kicking my behind lately that I learned to ignore warning signs like this. Turns out, Gino And The Goons are pretty good after all, but probably my least favorite of the recent Total Punk crop. Their unsophisticated garage-punk is knee-deep in wild-west honky-tonks, kind of a Clint Eastwood take on guns and saloons rather than Cormac McCarthy. Lots of tambourine backing up the drums, classic blues-punk riffs hammered down like Jack and Cokes, and buzzy vocals that have actually hammered down those Jack and Cokes. Definitely a good record, but I’m just not a big fan of this campy, rootin’ tootin’ style of pretend-outlaw blues punk, it just doesn’t resonate with me in the same way as Gary Wrong Group’s “Heroin Beach Serpents Attack” or The Sleaze’s “Conor Start”. If you’re going for the total Total Punk experience though, you’ll need to spend at least a little time with Gino and his goons.
Xander Harris The New Dark Age Of Love LP (Not Not Fun)
According to Xander Harris, the New Dark Age of Love consists of… Wingdings! Did he borrow James Ferraro’s copy of The Kama Sutra or something when working on this album art? It’s a bold claim to make, but I dig it, even if the music doesn’t compel me to have sex in an undersea cave or whatever. This is my first Xander Harris musical experience, and it’s the kind of straightforward electro-house production I’d expect to see 100% Silk repping, not Not Not Fun. There’s really nothing skewed or tainted here, nothing that you could say “it’s like ____… on acid!” about, except for maybe the title. The music reminds me of Mental Overdrive, a few of those Speicher series 12″s on Kompakt I have kicking around, maybe even a touch of Prins Thomas and Omar S… more of the same, really, but if you like the same, I see no reason you why you’d turn your nose up at Xander Harris. I got a little bored a few songs in, and found myself singing made-up lyrics in the style of that deep-throated Silk Flowers guy – maybe that guy is looking for work, and these two could hook up?
Highway Cross Run Dry 7″ (Toxic Pop)
Could’ve sworn this was Cross Dry by Highway Run when I first took a look, but it was just the damn cover art design that had me tricked. Upon listening, this isn’t the type of band that puts two random words together in an attempt at artsiness, that’s for sure – Highway Cross play their energetic rock music by the books, without any flair or affectation, just four dudes who’d rather spend their Tuesday night at a smelly practice space than on the couch watching the game. It’s a noble endeavor, and while I celebrate the act of being in a rock band, I can’t say that these songs do a whole lot for me – everything is in place, in a “Drive Like Jehu meets Fucked Up” sort of way, it’s just that you really need something special to grab my attention if you’re gonna do a band like this, and I’m not sure that they have anything special in these four songs. If you wanna like this though, you can – I won’t stop you!
Humanbeast Venus Ejaculates Into The Banquet LP (Load)
Back in my day, if there was a band called Humanbeast on a label called Load, it was gonna be a bunch of dudes in hand-glued costumes smashing their homemade distortion boxes and no-input mixers together while whistling through contact mics… not a cold-wave pop group! The times have changed, but Load is still a fine label, and this Humanbeast LP, while not as tantalizing as the title may lead you to believe, is a pretty cool addition to the black in your wardrobe. I guess the premise here is that a young married couple (Humanbeast themselves) are into mysterious bondage and Eyes Wide Shut sex, so they both wear fishnet stockings and creep around in the night while playing their down-tempo, minimal synth-pop. The vocalist Maralie (no last name provided) has a better voice than most, and she’s not afraid to belt out a pitch-perfect howl among the expected “deeper than one’s natural voice” speak-singing. Her vocals can add such a normalcy to the songs that I am reminded of mainstream disco at times, even if Humanbeast aren’t doing the hustle at all, and it’s a cool and slight change of pace for this style. None of the songs really stick out, but their look is cool, and it’s been a fun one to spin. I even heard that they both used to be in one of the worst potluck-hippie crust punk bands (complete with puppet show!) of the past decade, and I still liked this album anyway!
Ich Bin Ein Esel Ich Bin Ein Esel 7″ (Swashbuckling Hobo)
Here’s another Photoshop disaster from Swashbuckling Hobo Records, a label that laughs in the face of good taste and is probably still giggling at the phrase “I can haz cheeseburger”. I understand that Mad Macka is in Ich Bin Ein Esel, in case that’s a selling point to anyone, and I can’t say I’m surprised, as this EP features more of the usual high-octane, guitar-solo’d garage rock that Swashbuckling Hobo is setting their reputation on. Maybe like a non-threatening Rose Tattoo mixed with a blue-collar Mooney Suzuki, or a less-silly Turbonegro, something like that? This single is less annoying than other Swashbuckling releases I’ve recently come in contact with, toning down most of the zaniness (at least musically), but none of these songs are really doing anything besides filling up the air with guitars, drums and vocals… even after a night of relatively minor partying, you’re not going to remember any of these songs in the morning. I have to wonder who is actually buying these records… maybe all these bands just have a lot of friends?
Infest Days Turn Black 7″ (Draw Blank)
If you waited in a hardcore fest merch-line for more than thirty minutes earlier this year, there’s a good chance you own this tantalizing “new” Infest 7″. They’re certainly the reunion of the year, one of those fantasies that somehow came true, and while it’s kind of sad to see Joe Denunzio turned into an internet meme by young dorks, Infest are one of hardcore’s true classics and forever will be. This one-sided 7″ features three previously unreleased songs (recorded in the mid-’90s as part of the No Man’s Slave sessions) and a Negative Approach cover, and while I don’t think anyone will argue that this is Infest’s weakest offering to date, it’s still undoubtedly Infest. I can see why these songs didn’t make the album cut, some of the riffs are just a little silly or not quite as developed, but I enjoyed hearing them, as I would feel a deep sense of discontent if there were unreleased Infest songs I didn’t get to hear at least once. Completists are already out waging eBay war for this one, I mean it’s even on Draw Blank which is cool, but those who merely dabble in the hardcore arts can rest assured they aren’t missing too much. Are you ready for Infest to do another full-length and lay waste to the youthful competition once more? I am!
It Hurts 33 Tears 7″ (Soft Abuse)
This single was recorded by Stefan Neille, who certain maladjusted readers will recognize as Pumice. It certainly has plenty of Pumice’s stink all over it, as much like Pumice, this single tries so hard to contain actual songs but the sheer grotesqueness of the artist outweighs any chance at leading a normal life. “33 Tears” is some sort of sob story that hinges on whatever key is being held down until an echoed floor tom is struck and the note shifts, all while someone sings through a handful of fabric samples. “Earth, Moon, Sun, Us” sounds like it should be made entirely of flax seed and granola, but it’s more like an errant transmission from another galaxy, where Mad Nanna was worshiped like David Bowie and every president looked like one of the Lexie Mountain Boys. I’m not complaining, though! It Hurts so good.
Keluar Ennoea 12″ (Desire)
Linea Aspera were just another entry in the modern minimal-synth space race, or so I initially thought. Their songs really stuck with me, and months after I reviewed their debut album, I found myself reaching for Linea Aspera at all times of the night – they really wrote some great songs that I can see standing the test of time. Naturally, it was a bummer to hear about their hasty breakup, but a relief to hear that vocalist Alison Lewis already has a new project going, Keluar, to the point where I set aside reason and went right to Desire for a copy, international shipping and Euro conversion rates be damned. It’s a bit different than Linea Aspera, but nearly as great – Keluar go for more of a cold-wave electro-dance vibe with these songs, possibly relying on a laptop or two instead of rigidly sticking to complex webs of vintage synth arpeggios ala Xeno & Oaklander. At times, it’s almost like a gothy, dour La Roux, which is a vibe I find highly appealing. And just like Linea Aspera‘s multiple allusions to the ocean, Ennoea seems to gaze into the sea and space for its inspiration, another endlessly black void where Lewis’s emotions go to die. I already love this 12″, and hope Keluar find a kinder, longer-lasting fate than Linea Aspera.
Lantern Rock N’ Roll Rorschach LP (Sophomore Lounge)
Here’s some true-blue American rock, currently residing in Philadelphia and originally hailing from… Canada? How can that be possible – don’t you need a full horn section and three guitarists to be a Canadian band these days? Anyway, don’t let the haunted-house cover scene fool you, there’s nothing gothy or spooky about Lantern, as they play a very traditional style of bluesy garage-punk, with simple melodies, repetitive riffing and the attitude of someone who put their cigarette out in your beer. They like to keep it slow and dirgey, like Jack White strumming along to a skipping Sandy Bull record, or upbeat and groovy, like X-Ray Spex dressing up as The Rolling Stones for Halloween. Time-tested rock moves are at play here, from the riffs to the lyrics (“Evil Eye”, “She’s A Rebel”, you see what I mean?), and if you ever tried to get the exact same pose as Iggy on the cover of Raw Power while standing in front of a mirror right after you got out of the shower, you might end up tapping a boot to Rock N’ Roll Rorschach.
Literature Arab Spring LP (Square Of Opposition / Austin Town Hall)
Literature are doing it all nice and proper, following their Square Of Opposition single with a 45 RPM full-length. I recognize some of these guys from the Lehigh Valley, my home stomping grounds, and while I generally like to shake a fist and yell “they don’t make bands in the Lehigh Valley like they used to! I remember Weston blah blah”, Literature is an example I’d proudly offer to a tourist. Except I think they up and moved to Austin, TX, music capital of the etc etc, but whatever, good for them! Anyway, this album is nice and sweet. I’m getting serious Shins vibes here, catchy and poppy and constantly shifting without ever becoming difficult to follow. It’s indie-pop, for sure, but they really fill out the songs nicely, and the vocalist reminds me of the Shins guy too in his ability to sound both engaged and disinterested at the same time. I don’t really pay a lot of attention to this style of music, but I certainly enjoy it when “done right”, and Literature have me wishing I had a pair of wingtips, so that I could properly shuffle across the floor to Arab Spring.
Dan Melchior K-85 LP (Homeless)
Some people just have lots of songs to share, and Dan Melchior is certainly one of them. A hundred years from now if the world isn’t blown up, some academics are going to excavate his discography and come to some startling conclusions about millennial life, but until then the rest of us can check in with Melchior more routinely than we do our own aunts and uncles. Can’t really blame anyone for putting in lots of Melchior time, as his records are frequently great, and pretty good at worst, and I’d put K-85 somewhere in the middle of the pack. It’s a fairly mellow record, filled with acoustic guitars strumming weird little melodies, softly sung vocals and a variety of alien transmissions floating through the dusty air. More than one of these songs has popped into my head when I wasn’t listening, which is cool considering how relaxed and nonchalant this album tends to play out. It is an Australian import, which means it’s probably gonna cost us Americans more than usual, so if you choose to sit this one out and wait for next month’s installment, I won’t hold it against you. Maybe it’s time we started farming out Melchior records to every different country out there – there’s plenty of him to go around.
Möbius Strip Step Down 7″ (Left Out)
The cover art of this Möbius Strip single had me on high alert before I even put it on, as so much about the layout and design screams “bad Fearless Records band from the late ’90s”, from the label’s cheesy logo to the high school art-show image of a chess piece on its side. I’ll give it to Möbius Strip that they don’t sound like Blount and Glue Gun (look them up if you dare!), but they pretty much suck just the same. They do kind of a “melodic emo-rock with screamed vocals” thing, with a very direct and bothersome bass sound, even though I get the impression they’d love to be the next At The Drive-In (who, come to think about it, were on Fearless!). Only problem is the singer isn’t good at singing and is just okay at screaming, and the songs are mostly boring and performed with the passion of a Driver’s Education final exam. This 7″ bums me out on music more than any Brighter Death Now or Corrupted record ever did, so maybe if you want to look at this as an oblique art provocation, it’s a success. Otherwise, well…
Mounds Mounds Of Earth LP (Symbolic Capital)
Really, you’re gonna name yourself after the worst candy bar? To my knowledge, there is still no band called Snickers, and why no one has jumped all over that, I’ll never know. Anyway, this one comes in a plain white LP jacket, screened with at least five different colors and put together with the care of a Black Pus CD-r, and I can see Mounds fitting into the dayglo Providence noise-duo scene, even if their sound is drastically different. They’re a drummer/keyboard duo (from what I can gather), and they sound like a meditative Soft Machine pared down to the basics, or Silver Apples if they were meant to be listened to in the daytime, rather than in the center of a crushed-velvet opium den. The singer has the same cadence as the Om guy, and seems to focus on the same sort of “smoke weed and play chess with God” approach to life that I find appealing but entirely unrelatable. Definitely one for the new-age prog heads who just want to peel an onion to admire the beautiful natural geometry. You in?
No Sir, I Won’t The Door LP (Framework)
Seems like the right time for a peace-punk resurgence, based on what a swirling toilet bowl the first-world has become, and the fact that it’s one of the few micro-genres of hardcore-punk that hasn’t already been dissected and replicated by today’s punks. That’s what Boston’s No Sir, I Won’t are all about, or at least going for. The lyrics are certainly there, with each band member ranting or screaming long lines of resistance, and somehow they all avoid singing in fake British accents, which I personally feel like would be impossible to resist. Whereas many of the original Crass-associated groups managed to make music that was as anarchic and unrestrained as their politics, No Sir, I Won’t keep it pretty straightforward, like Conflict or Subhumans with an updated hardcore sound. There’s plenty of spoken-word samples to add to the “I’m listening to a peace-punk art statement” feeling, rather than just a regular punk record, but ultimately the music is pretty standard fare, just with thoughtful, intelligible lyrics and the passion of a thousand Ebullition catalogs. Definitely a good start from a good band, I just hope they feel less shackled to a standard hardcore-punk musical template on the next go around, and really let their protest flags fly. Either that or change their name to No Siri Won’t and write a bunch of anti-iPhone songs.
Octo Octa Between Two Selves 2xLP (100% Silk)
Somewhere along the line, 100% Silk went from a scruffy experiment in traditional dance music to a normal, legit techno label. Part of me will always love hipster first-attempts at techno, sometimes they’re so wrong that it’s right, but I also love a well-oiled dance machine, such as Octo Octa’s Between Two Selves. It’s a moody and seductive collection of dark n’ sensual tech-house, the sort of thing I’d expect to see on Cocoon or Dial, or nestled inside a Resident Advisor mix by Cassy or Gerry Read. Very modern sound in its approach (yes, there are plenty of vocal snippets morphed to wordless mush), with a slight Detroit feel that is sanded down and finished to a glossy chrome. Combined with Octo Octa’s considered selection of evening melodies, Between Two Selves is just slightly cool and avant-sounding enough that it probably won’t end up in a Mitsubishi commercial anytime soon, but just as slick. Although who knows, Scion listens to Bastard Noise… cars are getting so hip these days.
Places We Slept Peeled 12″ (Lagerville)
The first Places We Slept record was a one-sided 12″, and so is this one. I swear, for the sake of the Earth’s natural resources, someone oughta tell this band that both sides of a record can support grooves without sacrificing playability… plus, the consumer value instantly goes up! The first 12″ came inside a soggy thrift-store record with their name taped over top, and this one comes in a sturdy, pro-printed sleeve, so at least they have stepped their game up in that regard. The music ultimately remains the same, and that’s not a complaint – Places We Slept jangle their cozy, lo-fi indie-rock with the swing of Times New Viking and the sway of Elf Power. Very much by-the-books, as in a chemistry textbook on which you drew new logos for the 1994 Matador roster instead of taking notes. It sounds like multiple people sing (although only one is credited), and both voices register in that androgynous yelp that works well with slacker indie-pop such as this. Probably a little too cutesy and not catchy enough for me to truly love, but I’m sure Places We Slept have a number of soulmates out there.
Quttinirpaaq No Visitors LP (Rural Isolation Project)
My hopes were admittedly low for this one upon initial perusal – I always get annoyed at band names I can’t pronounce, and the random abstract art on the glossy cover just wasn’t impressing me… good thing I listened to the record though, because it quickly became a favorite! Seriously, No Visitors is where it’s at – this is murky, primitive, volcanic “rock”, as in it’s just as likely to sound like a rock band as the sound of a boulder tumbling down a mountain. Think Rusted Shut if Keiji Haino ran their rehab facility, Black Mayonnaise if they were secretly a nasty punk band, or Air Conditioning if it was broken on a hundred-degree heatwave. I swear there’s even some Purling Hiss buried deep enough in here, for those who care to look for it. If No Visitors was a liquid, you’d be pouring it down your tub drain, melting your pipes while destroying the clog. Every track is a winner, to the point where I sincerely wish this was a double LP – whoever this band is, they’ve stumbled upon a golden formula. I just hope that when I yell at my friends to go check out “Quit-tinny-pack”, there’s some shred of a chance that they understand what I’m carrying on about.
Segwei Soul Deep LP (Revolution Winter / Fellow Travelers)
A real nice first impression here with Segwei’s Soul Deep – it comes with a big, well-designed booklet filled with beautiful travelogue photos (among the cringeworthy lyrics, but I’ll overlook that for now), the nature and city scenes mingling together with the emotional resonance of an iPod commercial (you know, the one where various ethnicities are seen dancing to nothing in particular). I was ready to like Segwei, but then I heard their music – it stinks! They’re coming from that super-serious, heart-on-sleeve Fugazi frame of mind, but with a naive “let’s just all try and the future will be bright for everyone” stance. And even that wouldn’t be the end of the world, if their music didn’t sound like a crappy, clunky mix of major-label pop-punk, At The Drive-In and ’90s emo-core. The singer’s voice is awkward and out of tune, the songs take too long and are musically uninspired. I actually really kind of hate Soul Deep, come to think of it. Oh well!
Sickoids No Home EP 12″ (Grave Mistake / Sorry State)
Even after hearing from nearly everyone on Earth that Sickoids’ debut LP was one of the best hardcore records of its respective year, I still had my doubts… I mean how can any ex-Witch Hunt group, from Philadelphia of all cities, be a top-shelf hardcore monster? Well, I’m not sure how they did it, but I’m glad they did, as this new six-song EP is a rager in every sense of the word. Musically, I’m picking up a visceral mix of Tragedy, Jerry’s Kids and maybe a slight hint of Spazm 151 (why don’t more people rave about that band?). It’s heavy enough that the black-denim crusters will clink their 40s in unison, fast enough that the Government Warning fans will slam back and forth, politically-charged enough for whatever’s left of Aus Rotten’s fan base, and so aesthetically refined and punk that a pretentious nerd like myself will furiously bob his head and consider skateboarding again. I still haven’t heard that LP, and now I’m really starting to feel like a fool about it, but No Home numbs that sting with its incessant hardcore squall.
Sun Children Sun Demo 7″ (SPHC / More Noise)
The cutesy Anime vibe of this Sun Children Sun demo 7″, along with its simple song titles, reminds me of Romantic Gorilla or Senseless Apocalypse, and while it sounds nothing like either group, I feel as though the spirit remains the same, as all these groups warped hardcore’s definition to their own bizarre ends. Sun Children Sun, for example, sounds like Jellyroll Rockheads or some other Y2K thrash group, except the guitar is frequently acoustic (or at least completely distortion-free) and the drums are bongos. Yes, this is like the Sublime of thrash-core, a ridiculous campfire jam of manic hardcore thrash. If that wasn’t silly enough, they do a Chain Of Strength piss-take, offer various moments of ska, bleat a saxophone all over the place, and one song is called “Anti Pizza Price”, which I don’t understand but agree with entirely. Most would agree that it’s a novelty record, but I have no problem with novelty if it’s as stupid and endearing as Sun Children Sun. I appreciate that good taste has never gotten in the way of SPHC’s mission, and hope that this continues to be the case far into the future. Imagine if everyone was too scared to ever release Sockeye back in the day? Is that the kind of world you want to live in?
Teenage Strange Eerie Energy / Zeitgeist 7″ (Gloryhole)
“Teenage Strange” on “Gloryhole” Records with a gross monster smoking a joint on the cover… throw in an alien in a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and you’ve created a virtual Spencer’s Gifts. That becomes even more apparent when you throw it on and “Eerie Energy” delivers stoner-rock akin to Nebula and early Queens Of The Stone Age, just with geeky vocals and an unconvincing swagger. Very “Stoner Rock 101”. The exact same can be said for “Zeitgeist”, although the vocals are slightly cooler and the riff is more rocking than grooving (at least until they drag the tempo down to a beer-hoisting speed). I feel like the best stoner riffs are the ones that have already been written years ago and played by a hundred different bands, but even so, Teenage Strange don’t quite do it for me. They cause these riffs no harm, but I’m just not feeling the passion or commitment. Maybe I’d feel a little better if it was Frank Kozik who designed the 4:20 demon on the cover.
TV Ghost Atomic Rain 7″ (Gloryhole)
Bet you didn’t expect a reissue of TV Ghost’s first single from 2007 – I sure didn’t! Kind of bizarre, really… I mean you can still pick it up used pretty easily, and this band is still plugging away and mostly getting better as time moves forward. Go figure. Anyway, TV Ghost were younger than Iceage when Atomic Rain was recorded (I think the big drummer kid was like 14?), and as I haven’t revisited my original copy in a while, it was nice to be reminded that even in their earliest days, TV Ghost were pretty great at emulating the Cramps’ schlock-rock madness, even down to the sweaty-lipped vocals and Salvation Army keyboard. These songs are charmingly sloppy, I mean some of those drum-rolls sound like first attempts (I love it), so if you haven’t heard this one, I certainly recommend it. Although if Gloryhole is trying to peddle this one for more than five bucks, you may just want to hit up Discogs for one of the many $4.50 original copies that are still sitting there…
Uranium Orchard Unchurched Shithead 7″ (Cold Vomit)
I miss Dry Rot dearly, but I’m glad most of those gentlemen are doing Uranium Orchard now, as well as continuing the Cold Vomit label. I dare you to order something from them – not only will your records arrive in fine condition, you’ll also find a handwritten note on the back of a Pizza Hut menu, a photo of the guitarist meeting Hulk Hogan when he was seven, and some other peculiar piece of ephemera that is probably more bizarre than whatever I could make up. I missed the Uranium Orchard LP that some people were really digging, so maybe Unchurched Shithead is more disorienting for me than it should be, like watching a gripping drama even though I missed the first two seasons. This band is damn weird, that’s for sure – somehow, they evoke the spirit of Sun City Girls in many ways (goofy group singalongs, Eastern instrumentation put through a blender, even the EP title), which I can’t say many bands have managed to do. They’ll sound like Sonic Youth covering Pavement for like twenty seconds, then burst into a brief wave of static and change the channel to VH1: Classic Albums… it’s chaos. I’m not sure I enjoyed the actual music on this record, but thinking about Uranium Orchard’s thought process, along with their genuinely unique take on how music is written, has kept me entertained for a while now.
Vacation Club Daydream / Forest Babe 7″ (Randy)
The Maxim-style cover photo on this Vacation Club single is so bro-ish I could almost smell the Axe body spray wafting off it. No matter what the reality of Vacation Club is, I can’t help but picture the group hanging out of a jeep, harassing women at the beach, and it’s an unpleasant starting point to have with any band. Musically, they are unexcitingly-decent garage-pop, like a neutered Ty Segall or The Incredible Kidda Band if they weren’t incredible. They are clearly musically talented, as the bassist will glide around the main riff, the guitars have a shimmery jangle while still frollicking in lo-fi, and both of these tracks stand slightly above the rest of the pack because of it, but I’m not really feeling it. If you love this style, you will find no fault with Vacation Club, but part of me still feels like I’m secretly enjoying Sugar Ray while this record spins – it’s just that frat-guy cover sensibility. At least I finally figured out who the people are that actually go on those Black Lips cruise-ship things – it’s gotta be these guys, right?
Virus Live In Lourdes 7″ (Depression House)
Sorry Casualties fans, not that Virus – this is a synth/guitar/drums duo (go ahead and figure that one out, I can’t) from Italy. Either that or the b-side cut “I Live In Italy” is a total lie. Anyway, this group is pretty good, putting on their dunce caps and bashing out caveman riffs and erroneous synth-crunch with the pizzazz of The Anals and the bad attitude of Drunks With Guns. The vocalist seems like he’s faking being drunk, it’s just a little too over the top, but I find myself unbothered by it. Like if you’re in this band, you’re already feeling kinda lousy and ready to destroy things for no good reason, you know? I appreciate that their songs are almost entirely tuneless, with no allusions to garage rock (or even much punk rock either), just the first notes your fingers find on a guitar and the urge to beat them into the cement. I hope I am not coming across like this record is great, because it isn’t, but I could still listen to it every day for a month and not feel any fatigue. I love this sort of crap.
White Murder Arteries Are Flexible / Shutter Speed 7″ (no label)
This is the third White Murder single to pass through Yellow Green Red’s hallowed halls, all of which have been self-released and housed in thematically-continuous screened sleeves. Bill Bondsmen are doing a very similar thing, as far as the “self-released and screen-printed sleeves” thing goes, and I can see the appeal of being a band that handles all aspects of their art. And musically, White Murder don’t stray too far from their prior formula with these songs either, performing in a slightly gothed-out, dual-vocaled, Dangerhouse-y punk style. “Arteries Are Flexible” is probably their post-punkest song yet, heavier on the tension than garage ferocity, and “Shutter Speed” picks it up a bit, with hints of Red Aunts and Subtonix in the song’s short duration. Can’t say this single is any better than their others, nor is it worse; these songs do the trick without flooring or boring me. At the very least, the music of White Murder is doing its part to unify nerdy record collectors and the hot-rods n’ creepers crowd.
Wooden Wand 3 Songs 7″ (25 Diamonds)
When I close my eyes and quietly chant “second-tier mid-’00s freak-folk”, I swear I can feel a wooden wand start to materialize in my hands. I don’t think the “freak-folk” tag is entirely fair, but Wooden Wand’s got it, along with their multitude of albums and singles. Apparently the group (either James Jackson Toth solo or accompanied by friends) is still going strong, and I guess why not, because it’s fun to sit there and play guitar and sing to pass the time. This 7″ features three songs, recorded in 2013, 2009 and 2010, and it’s pretty good, even if it kinda comes off as a “oh, you wanna do a 7″? I think I’ve got some tracks lying around” sort of deal. The first two tracks actually kind of remind me of Pedro The Lion, if he was less emo and more old-timey. Calm, inoffensive, pleasant and just a pinch of silliness (which a song like “When Your Stepfather Dies” rightfully requires). The last track has more of an acoustic Neil Young vibe, and it’s just as pleasant as the first two. Really can’t complain about this record at all, and if you’re looking for a man with a guitar and two capable hands, this might be a decent way to spend eight minutes (although I’ll admit, I didn’t count).
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