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No Idea Records

Record Reviews

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Below are some recently posted reviews.

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We’re Not Dead: 7”
If you’ve been to any of the larger shows, festivals, and such in the greater L.A. area, chances are you’ve seen these long-time scene stalwarts—not on the main stage per se, more likely in the parking lot, with bullhorn, drums, guitars and amps strapped to their bodies as they play their way through in matching black pants, white button front shirts and bike helmets. I highly recommend you catch ‘em in a more traditional live setting, though, where their sets are paradoxically ever more unhinged—last time I saw ‘em, Patrick climbed into a plastic trashcan, hurled himself off the stage and continued howling through the rest of the song while rolling in-can around the dance floor, not missing a beat. This most recent single handily demonstrates they’re more than a mere visual one-trick pony, they’re a band with some serious chops: equal parts Voidoids, early Devo and the more sophisticated wing of the San Gabriel Valley hardcore scene served up as tasty, driving punk that ain’t afraid to work outside the box and follow their own muse(s). The two tracks here, “Eaters of Shit” and “Friend Detector,” are culled from their Forge Ahead EP, also included in its entirety here via download, which sweetens the deal exponentially. It’s goddamned criminal these kids aren’t the toast of the town already and that this hasn’t sold out several times over. Here’s a chance to rectify that situation.  –Jimmy Alvarado (The Mormons)

Black Vinyl Dress: CD
Black Vinyl Dress is amazing in its horribleness. This seriously flabbergasts me. It’s as though the actor Alan Rickman (Severus Snape in Harry Potter and the villain in Die Hard)—the similarity of the voice is uncanny—got drunk, dropped acid, channeled whatever emotions he got from watching Apocalypse Now, wrote really bad Jim Morrison-inspired poetry and recited it with a nondescript band backing him. They then recorded an album and here I am, listening to it. I seriously can’t stop laughing at every track, because I can’t stop imagining a drunk and high Alan Rickman as the lead singer. Incredible.  –Kurt Morris (Gonzo Multimedia)

Moments of Mayhem: Cassette
Goddamn! Fifteen songs of raw, furious anarcho punk in thirty-ish minutes, straight outta Flensburg, Germany. MESS//AGE mixes tempos throughout, playing variant after variant of their angry, heartfelt message without sacrificing an iota of urgency. No matter whether their subject matter is personal or political, it’s impassioned, with nary a stinker in the bunch. The hoarse, shouted vocals are reminiscent of Martin from Limp Wrist and/or the throat-shredding gentlemen from Assfactor 4. Great, great stuff I can’t recommend highly enough.  –Michael T. Fournier (message.bandcamp.com)

Fetch: CD
So here we have the highly anticipated new album from Melt-Banana and I have to say right out of the gate that this could be my favorite album of 2013. The last I heard of the band was 2000’s Teeny Shiny, which I quite liked, though nothing would have prepared me for this. Fast-forwarding to Fetch sees the band expanding their sonic palette while simultaneously physically shrinking to a two-piece. The CD is all over the place in a good way, with familiar elements like hardcore blending seamlessly with glitchy guitar loops and waves of noise creating not only a technical but a visceral coup on your earholes. The one thing that hasn’t really changed much is vocalist Yasuko’s piercing shriek, though she is able to exercise some restraint when called for, such as in the album’s closer “Zero,” which veers dizzyingly toward dance-pop bliss.  –Garrett Barnwell (A-Zap)

“Hjärndöd” b/w “Du är så Punk”: 7”
Another Scandinavian masterpiece! The snow and cold might drive people into suicidal depression, but, man, does it make for some amazing guitar music. Hailing from Sweden, Makeouts play with an infectious sound similar to Jay Reatard and Audacity. The A-side on this record is one of the best punk songs I’ve heard all year! (Though to be fair, it is only February at the time of writing.) I could listen to this 7” forever. And there are two LPs left to listen to! I’m going to go hunt those down. Grade: A-.  –Bryan Static (Bachelor)

MC Rises: CD
This band from New Orleans came to me through a mutual friend when they needed a spot to crash on tour. With seven dudes and a dog in tow, Mad Conductor graciously showed up on my doorstep after a show in Seattle and handed me their album as thanks. What popped into my stereo is the most interesting self-produced hip hop I’ve heard in a long time. MC Devlin (of ska/crust band No Cash) fronts this project with a full backing band supplying the beats and hooks. Elements of flamenco guitar, piano, ska, and rock permeate this record with random sound effects sprinkled in. Devlin’s voice, velvety and full, reminds me a lot of Q-Tip from A Tribe Called Quest and—besides a few background vocals (sometimes in Spanish)—he’s flowing solo. Each track is lyrically exciting; packed with imagery and unconventional metaphors. One of my favorite lines is on “One Solid Connection” where he spits: “I’ll burn your bridge so you can’t finish your song.” With a mic in one hand and your full attention in the palm of his other, be prepared for anything because this record runs the gamut on things you didn’t even know were possible.  –Kayla Greet (Self-released, themadconductor.com)

Clever Clever: LP
Some damn fine power pop-flavored punk rock from the U.K. The Love Triangle features the vocalist from The Shitty Limits (on vocals, of course) backed up by some other guys who aren’t as sellable. While there are some very catchy numbers such as “Hollywood Sleaze,” “I’m Still Waiting for a Buzz,” and “The Situation Is Excellent,” the attitude contained herein is clearly that of a limey throwing two fingers right in your face whilst spitting out warm lager (that’s what they call beer across the pond) in your general direction. Second sitting and not a stinker in the lot: do yourself a favor.  –Juan Espinosa (Static Shock / Sorry State)

Wilderness: LP
A homie of mine interviewed L.A. radio legend (and bassist for some of this city’s finest and notorious bands) Adam Bomb on his internet radio show. Nice to hear his voice over the (digital) airwaves again and, of course, it led to daydreams of what a modern reboot of his once-crucial Final Countdown show would sound like. My guess is if that show were to again exist, this would be in heavy rotation. You’ve got a bevy of mid-tempo hardcore here that fuggin’ drips with War All the Time-era Poison Idea, right down to the vocals, that sounds more like an extension of that idea than some cheap knockoff by a lesser band who have no business even attempting such an endeavor. No faint praise, that. Tight performance, great riffing, not too much metal in the geetars, and maybe even a hint of melody bubbling under there—high fives all ‘round, kids. Oh, and Mr. Bomb, if yer readin’ this, please get yourself back on the air and play the hell outta this.  –Jimmy Alvarado (Feral Ward)

In the Garden: LP
I thought Liquor Store’s debut LP Yeah Buddy was an exercise in hubris, but then I got this! In the Gardenisn’t a gatefold double LP like its predecessor, and only has eight tunes, but the sheer balls and triple-guitar bravado more than makes up for it. These are compliments, people. As my friend Jumpkick might say, this shit is “pow’ful.” Guitarist/vocalist Sarim Al-Rawi’s voice has changed from the snot-caked, bleating blurt of early Liquor Store tunes to a Handsome Dick Manitoba-like bark. The guitars (again, three of ‘em!) are huge, the solos are monstrous. These dudes can hang with Dictators axe-men Top Ten and Ross The Boss, as well as give the Nuge (“Pile of Dirt”) or Slash (check the epic “Midnight Walker”) a run for their respective money. It’s only in recent years that I’ve come to terms with strong musicians flexing their muscles while playing the punk rock. I don’t know why I couldn’t accept it for so long. Probably because so many technically proficient musicians don’t know when a song doesn’t need them to jack off all over it. Liquor Store is a band that can triple-guit a song and you can still feel the actual song. On a different tack, Liquor Store also scares me, more than a little bit. Listen to a tune like “Keys to the Face” and tell me you would even think about crossing these guys. Or maybe they’re sweethearts and they just unfortunately witnessed some dude punch another dude with his keys. In the face. Then I look at a picture of Sarim, and his eyes tell me that he’s seen something I shouldn’t.  –Sal Lucci (Almost Ready)

Out Utero: CD
When some dude in a Descendents shirt next tells me “women just can’t play punk right,” I’m going to make him listen to this. Initially, I wondered if this was an Asian Man release, because they’d be right at home on a bill with The Queers or Dog Party. Blasting out of Iowa City, this is shiny, rhymetastic pop punk propelled like a machine ever forward, but with a subtle bratty bite. On-point vocal harmonies that are almost too pro for a DIY band. Soaked with energy. Starting with “Vampire Club Pt II,” the sugar sheen falls away and raw emotion punches through for great fuck-you moments. “I hope you have fun at your day job,” they sneer on “So Happy for You.” These are down-to-earth lyrics about real girl life and not feeling good enough. Definitely influenced by Dookie-era Green Day, and possibly the Soviettes or Bangs. Out Utero turns anti-future grunge symbols on their head and says, “Damn it, we’re going to be happy.” Shit just got real. –Claire Palermo (Bloated Kat)

Self-titled: LP
The speckled black-and-white cover encapsulates the noise embedded on the vinyl: “LAST WORDS” adorns the bottom corner in thick sans serif font (read: Siege), the singer’s arm is locked behind her back with the microphone buried in her teeth, and an aggro youth fist pumps with an X emblazoned on the back of his hand. It all seems so familiar—because it is. Consider this less a criticism of Last Words and more an observation of the over-reliance on same ol’ same ol’ hardcore iconography. (Also goes for leather jackets and brick walls, and parodies of the Black Flag bars.) Yet, Last Words play competent powerviolence-influenced hardcore with cement grinder vocals. Reminds me of manic Japanese hardcore like Conga Fury or Washington, DC’s Sick Fix. There’s some serious talent in this band, and I found myself nodding to most of it, but some experimentation would go a long way towards distinguishing them from the rest. For now, the music leaves a soft impression.  –Sean Arenas (To Live A Lie)

Self-titled: LP
Last Words includes ex-members of Stripmines and Devour, both from Raleigh, NC, and there is no change from the uncompromising approach that both of those bands applied to their musical output on this debut album. The one big difference though is the presence of vocalist Marina Madden. She sounds like she has been the subject of demonic possession and in the process also had her vocal cords vigorously sandpapered for good measure, leaving her with a distinctive presentation that verges on the unique. The interesting thing is—despite its raw quality—I find that Madden’s vocals add a shade of light to the band which clearly differentiates it from the aforementioned combos that members have previously been in. Make no mistake, though. This is as spite-fuelled as one might expect but it is also relatively easy to listen to, if you know what I mean. This is excellent hardcore which rages from start to finish and it found a spot in my top ten album list for 2013 with something to spare.  –Rich Cocksedge (To Live A Lie)

Allies: LP
Man, I just love Kevin K and always look forward to a new record. His mixture of early Ramones and The Heartbreakers is simply something that I can never get enough of. I am happy to see that things are the same on this great new LP. The addition of Ricky Rat from the Trash Brats on guitar is perfect. That is one pairing that just completely makes sense and should be no surprise to anyone familiar with this crew. Kevin K chugs along, putting out a fantastic record every year or so. He has built up quite a body of work, nearly all of which is worth the time of any punk rock’n’roll fan.  –Mike Frame (Wanda)

Rex T. Necord: 7”
I sharpened my scalpels to dissect this record, because reviewing music is all about digging in and trying to figure out how all the parts fit together. When I sliced past the lo-fi, garage punk skin of these tunes, I got confused. Things aren’t where they’re supposed to be. Everything’s put together weird. Are those strange ska veins running through it? Are those melted rockabilly kidneys? And that voice box, it’s like one of those dudes with nicely emotive throats from a basement steampunk band decided to come out in the daylight and start banging on things. I poked and I prodded, but ultimately I decided that the best option was to put my tools down and just enjoy this baffling and beautiful bit of danceable madness. –MP Johnson (Bat Shit Crazy)

Self-titled: 7”
Jehovah Eyes are a Swedish band that brings the rock the same way predecessors like Randy and International Noise Conspiracy have—loud, exciting, and pseudo-radical. It might not be revolutionary (in any definition of the word) to sing lyrics like “we play dead/in front of the TV set/aw-oo/sitcom freedom!” but it sure sounds awesome. It’s super catchy and clean with its choppy guitars and echoic, anthemic repeated chorus, “Sitcom freedom!” The b-side has an Urge Overkill feel to it, but rocks way harder. The lead singer belts some goofy lyrics about “living dead cities” with the group backing him up with some “waa-aahh-oooo’s.” Where they fall short in agitprop, they make up in rock and I approve of this message!  –Craven Rock (Gaphals)

With Our Thoughts We Make the World: LP
Mellow, background music easily enjoyable on a rainy, lazy kinda day. Jesse Rifkin’s nasally voice sounds eerily similar to Weakerthan’s John K. Samson, which was enough to win me over. Based out of Brooklyn, Jane Eyre compiled a year’s worth of recordings experimenting with different contemporary and lo-fi sounds. Songs are intercut with phone conversations, keyboards, saxophone, folk harp, and organ. Synthesizers give the A-side a dreamy, sleepy vibe while the B-side seems more alternative and guitar-based. The LP has seven songs released through the band’s own record label, A Landfill Full Of Records on a limited run of 500 multi-colored vinyl. Lo-fi art-rock for a sleepy couch potato day.  –Nicole Macias (A Landfill Full Of Records)

Too Many Babes: 7”
Unabashed pop punk that mines the infinite recesses of unrequited love. (Let “Unsatisfied” be your anthem for dateless nights.) The opening chords and the confident vocals are all immediately inviting. The “ahhh”s on “Maybe Next Year” send chills down my spine; they’re whimsical morsels of elation over a lyrical pledge to make good on a New Year’s resolution. There’s definitely a playful X-ray Spex vibe fused with more contemporary anxiety like Cheeky or Lipstick Homicide. Each track is a lovingly crafted pop nuke of radioactive resilience. What’s the half-life of a Jabber tune? The time it takes for them to craft an LP is when I’ll finally shelf this 7”. Recommended.  –Sean Arenas (Bloated Kat)

Too Many Babes: 7”
If these Oakland kids set out to make a record that sounds like the Josie and the Pussycats soundtrack, mission accomplished. Cut from the same hook-saturated Bloated Kat cloth as Lipstick Homicide, Jabber went in a more indie power pop direction. Consciously female-fronted, saccharine power chord fun that reminds you that all roads lead back to the Ramones. The second song’s chorus is literally “I wanna be your girlfriend.” Lead vocals are reminiscent of Screaming Females and Mean Jeans, but I also hear a nod to the Beach Boys in their 1960s style harmonies and lyrics about being true to yourself. Maybe it’s an insult, but this is the kind of punk that even kids who get straight As and play football or cheerlead can listen to. Not wow, but solid and super fun. You can’t help but dance.  –Claire Palermo (Bloated Kat)

Self-titled: LP
Well, their label calls them metallic crust, and I guess I can hear some of that, but Insidious Process also flings around a lot of the frantic, galloping dread that I associate with nutjobs like the Crimson Curse and Sugar Pie Koko. This vocalist sounds like something being dredged from a coffin, just shrill and deadly as hell. Blastbeats and searing invocations of doom and ruination (in Swedish and English) captured within some beautiful packaging and gorgeous vinyl. Just fucking relentless from the get-go.  –Keith Rosson (Aborted Society)

Komm her!: 7”
This record is as German as strudel. Four ladies playing three-chord punk. Partially sung in German and partially sung in very stern-sounding English, the simple sentiments over simple punk riffs translate nicely. “Run” stands out. “Run! Run! Run! You’re not fast enough.” It is inarguably punk. Nice one.  –Billups Allen (Hundemann)

Tuning Out: Cassette
The Ills appear to be from Victoria, B.C., and since they are on the same label as the fantastic Durban Poison, I will assume that is the case. This tape has fifteen songs of killer snotty punk with a bit of a Bratmobile feel at times. Really strong songs and singing make this awesome Canadian band stand out. Would love to hear more from this band. This is a style that I love but, even still, this band is one of the best.  –Mike Frame (Shake!)

How to Become a Ghost: LP
On first glance, this record looks like it will be pure Jade Tree Records circa 1998. As soon as I put the record on, I realized that looks can be quite telling. The sound here is exactly the kind of late-’90s emo that it looks like. The postcard-style design on the back cover is just right, as this band sounds like an exact mix of all of the bands on the Post Marked Stamps 7” series. Yup, if you still listen to Compound Red, Ethyl Meserve, Giants Chair, and the like, you are going to love Hooper.  –Mike Frame (Snappy Little Numbers)

Not of the Flock: 7” EP
I spent my early twenties capturing every Gravity Records release as it came out, so this type of blood-letting emoviolence is right at the top of my list. Three guys just slaying themselves to the listeners’ enjoyment. The last four tracks side with the noisier Angel Hair mixed with hardcore fare and maybe just a touch of epic Isis metal, but “Light of God” is the stunner (at only 1:13!). The tune of the guitar riff went straight to my Second Story Window/ Heroin-soaked brain and brought back happy feelings from twenty years ago. Turned this over three times in a row and it’s not getting old.  –Matt Seward (IFB, ifbrecords.com / Spring Street, springstreetrecords.storenvy.com)

Split: 7”
South Central L.A. punks Generacion Suicida continue their impressive reign of output with two tracks of stripped-down-to-the-barest-essentials punk rock. Street punk with equal parts smarts and brawn. Congratulations are in order to these fine gentlemen and lady for successfully completing their first European tour. Catholic Spit approaches their side with more of a Hell Comes to Your House (the death rock tracks) feel. Quick comparisons bring to mind 45 Grave and Christian Death-styled punk performed by far younger counterparts. Homage is commonly mistaken for a throwback, but such is not the case here. Both bands have the potential to become seasoned veterans of their respective scenes (Los Angeles, Ventura) and I’m eager to hear what else they have up their sleeves.  –Todd Taylor (MMM, discosmmm@hotmail.com)

Perfume and Piss: LP
A foreign vinyl pressing of the most recent GBH album (the CD came out on Hellcat in 2010). It sounds good (it was recorded well for the style), and the songs are upbeat, anthemic numbers with some gang vocals. The record isn’t embarrassing and the band could certainly be doing a lot worse for themselves this late in the game, but there’s not a whole lot going on that interests me in this. Following a trend in more commercial street punk that I harp on a lot, the songs seem to be based around their catchy, kitschy titles and the riffs are a little tooHellcat for me. It seems like they were trying to make music specifically palatable for a younger crowd (some of the riffs sound like they were written by Lars Frederiksen, who produced the record and has always had a talent for writing songs that allude to a specific sound and genre). There’s nothing really wrong with that, per se, and younger kids who see GBH at some big punk festival and then pick this record up are certainly getting a better deal than we did when Sham 69 and the Business put out their abysmal bids for fame in the late ‘90s, but I’m a little too old and jaded to appreciate this record at this point in my life.  –Ian Wise (PHR)

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