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No Idea Records

Record Reviews

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Below are some recently posted reviews.

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II: 7”
Four great blasts of snotty punk rock. I’d expect nothing less from No Front Teeth. A ripping cover of The Tragics “Mommi I’m a Misfit” and a singalong reminiscent of something from Peter And The Test Tube Babies. I’m sold. Now I have to go back and find their first single. –Ty Stranglehold (No Front Teeth)

Wretched Existence/Bleak Future 2007-2010: CD
My appreciation for the lion’s share of grindcore withered away relatively quickly, mainly due to the fact that so much of it was so poorly recorded and comprised of limited variations on the same template, resulting in entire slabs of wax with thirty-five tracks of the same cats playing as fast as possible while some other cat yowls in exactly the same fashion track after track. Very small doses and I’m down with it; any longer, it all becomes a faceless blur, and I want a bit more from any extended listening experience. Though much of what’s here falls well within the borders of “boogadaboogadaROOOAAARRRR” land, they have enough sense to change things up frequently enough so that individual songs and ideas can be discerned. The fact that it’s recorded cleanly enough to make out what the fuck’s going on just pushes it over into the “worth a listen” territory. –Jimmy Alvarado (To Live A Lie, tolivealie.com)

Self-titled: LP
Keith Morris is still an angry, angry man. OFF! return with a new LP worth of material that is here to remind us that there was a time when hardcore wasn’t synonymous with metal riffs and basketball jerseys. This band is the perfect storm to pull this off. Every note played somehow matches the anger and urgency in Morris’s voice. Sure, there will always be detractors saying that this is a rehash of the glory days, but to that I’ve got to say that of all the guys who can claim to be there in the beginning, none of them are doing anything as good as this. Keep getting it out Keith, keep spitting your venom in the world’s face. –Ty Stranglehold (Vice, vicerecords.com)

Vacation to Nowhere: CD
Vacation to Nowhere is one of those enigmatic lost albums by an unknown band that makes punk rock so much fun. During their short career, The Normals officially released one seven-inch. Both of the songs on the single made the cut on volumes ten and seventeen of the legendary Killed by Death series. An album’s worth of material was recorded in 1979 before the great crash when record executives realized there was no money in punk and the term power pop was being delegated to describing Rick Springfield’s output. The album has languished, released many years later in a limited pressing. It has likely been passed around more than that, but Last Laugh Records has pressed a definitive document of the band that includes the two songs from the single, the album that never was, and a DVD of a live performance from 1980 that shows a fresh-faced band playing to a hometown crowd pumped with the knowledge that they were destined to go on rocking forever. You probably already know if this is something that would interest you, but I will elaborate by saying that this CD contains a solid block of high-energy power pop with catchy choruses. The vocals are delivered with a bit of Joey Ramone-itis. I would say I could live without the DVD, but its inclusion does not seem to affect the price of the package and the CD cover claims the footage was recovered at a garage sale. So I say thumbs up; I love a good story. This isn’t one of those albums being released because we are running out of old. This is way essential. –Billups Allen (Last Laugh)

Self-titled: 7” EP
No fibbin’, first words out of my mouth soon as this got goin’: “Holy shit.” From what I can gather, these kids hail from NY, but the song titles appear Japanese and they sound like Discharge as interpreted by Disorder, equaling one helluva glorious racket bein’ made here. Dunno if I’d be so quick to dump ‘em into the “dis-core” pile, but this is definitely prime fodder for permanently fucking up your hearing. –Jimmy Alvarado (Katorga Works)

Split: 7” EP
Noise by Numbers: Some wicked good pop punk here, all Hüsker sheen and Replacements hooks slathered over some well-structured and catchy-as-hell tunes. Truly surprised this band ain’t all over the radio. The Magnificent: I wouldn’t lay any money down, but I’m pretty sure these are different versions of a couple of songs that appeared on their most recent long player. No matter, as the tunes on their own are two more great examples of what these guys do best, namely crank out memorable, anthemic punk tunes that skirt the fine line between pop punk and more oi-influenced “street” fare. Kick ass split, this one. –Jimmy Alvarado (Solidarity, solidarityrecordings.com)

The Maximum Rock’n’Roll EP: 7”
A record taking the piss out of Maximum Rock’n’Roll in 2012? Perhaps it would be timelier if this EP was poking fun at Terminal Boredom. Now those cats are some kind of uptight! Mr. Nobunny makes his punkest record yet, making me think of when The Queers took a break from their Ramones worship and re-visited their harsher roots. Then I think about a discussion I had with a friend who said Nobunny is the last of the Budget Rockers and I said Nobunny is actually pop punk. Discuss on, Termbo. –Sal Lucci (Goner)

No Axis: EP
Super f’n blown-out stuff here. It’s as though they hit the studio and cranked everything up as loud as it could go. If you like White Guilt, Yodokai, and bands of that nature, then you’ll like No Power. Distortion forever. It sounds like the guitars are being played and flayed with jagged shards of metal, whereas the vocals are recorded in a large, empty warehouse (such as the song “Soundwave”), and the drums are akin to small explosions just powerful enough blow out chunks of wall and pavement. The sound is pushed into the red and hurled at a reckless speed that eventually collects and washes out into a void. Passive listens and all you’re going to hear is a wall of white noise. But if you take the time, you’ll hear the song underneath, revealing its changes along with the percussion and low end that give it all definition. Ears are ringing! –Matt Average (Self Aware, selfawarerecords.com, Inkblot, sam@inkblotrecords.net)

“Peripeteia” b/w “Evil Eye": 7”
No More Art might be from Hamburg, Germany, but they sound like they’re from L.A. circa 1980. Very pretty female vocals are the driving force here, with a super punchy, almost tinny background behind it. This single is a total charmer. The vocals are going to lead to a lot of X comparisons, but it’s more like a female-fronted, European version of Adolescents. No More Art has this record and other recordings available free of charge on their site, but don’t be a dick. Buy the vinyl! –Art Ettinger (New Dark Age, newdarkagerecords.bigcartel.com)

Horizon Fire: CD
Synth-driven punk slotted somewhere between Devo and Fast Forward, with varying results. I have to confess, it took repeated listens to slightly warm to this album. The majority of the songs lean toward the poppier side, and then there’s a slow, dancey type song like “Asymptotes II” that brings to mind Beautiful Skin and !!!. Songs like “You’re So Dramatic” have a snotty and hyper energy that is parallel to what is traditionally referred to as “KBD” punk, and it’s nice to hear this style executed in a less traditional manner. I find myself preferring the darker side on here, with the instrumental “March of the Cosmic Men,” the aforementioned “Asymptotes II,” and “Shaman” with its shimmery guitar and lurking rhythm. The one thing this album has a problem with is establishing a mood and keeping it. One moment it’s dark and sort of creepy, then suddenly it’s bright, loud, and poppy. Paced properly, such a style can be successful. But when it’s as manic as this, it’s kind of hard to fully get into and enjoy any nuances in the music. –Matt Average (Hozac, hozacrecords.com)

Fake Infinity: LP
Horrible shit. Poppy synth that makes stuff like ColdCave sound edgy. This is rife with pretentious lyrics, dull songs, and the rest. Someone call the EPA and alert them that another waste of petroleum has been dumped into our environment. They can either stop it at the record label or head to any record shop dollar bin. –Matt Average (Latest Flame, latestflame.com)

12:34 and Getting On Home: LP & 7”
I’m curious to know whether people who don’t know Needles//Pins vocalist/guitarist/songwriter Adam “Solly” Solomonian are able to recognize what an incredible student of a huge array of genres he is. Having seen Solly jamming on Westerberg and/or bluegrass tunes in his living room, fronting long-gone Ottawa darlings The Transit, or playing in the (now deceased) hardcore band Miles Between Us, when I sift through Needles//Pins’ songs, I’m catching glimpses of all of these elements, strung together in ridiculously catchy, dancey, “garage”-y pop songs. This LP and 7” were written and recorded not too far apart from each other, and they’re very much of the same ilk: picture something between mid-period Replacements, Selling the Sizzle-era Smugglers, The Hives’ “incredibly famous for a minute” stint, and ‘70s/’80s Canadian power pop punk (Pointed Sticks/Teenage Head) and you’d be close. So insanely good. –Dave Disorder (Mammoth Cave / La-Ti-Da, mammothcaverecording.com, latidarecords.com)

Busy Doing Nothing: LP + calendar
Didn’t quite know whether or not to file this under the “various artists” tag or to identify as I have here, but, either way, what you’re getting here is Nardwuar and his cohorts the Evaporators sharing wax space with a number of higher-profile buddies—Andrew WK, Kate Nash, Franz Ferdinand, The Cribs, Fuad & the Fezztones, Jill Barber, Sage Francis, and Megan Barnes, respectively—singin’ Evaporators originals and choice covers originally by some of Canada’s great underground bands of yore: Pointed Sticks, Cub, The Dishrags. True to form, the resulting album is rife with a sense of playful fun, catchy pop tunes, and even Nardwuar interviewin’ Franz Ferdinand to round things out. The piece de resistance, though, is the accompanying calendar, chock full of choice photos—courtesy of photographer extraordinaire Bev Davies—of the Cramps, Gun Club, Social Distortion, Adolescents, PIL, Iggy Pop, and others. –Jimmy Alvarado (Mint)

Discography: Cassette
For a second due to the cover art, I was expecting a weird, shitty Ramones cover band, but then I noticed that they were from Chattanooga, and thought, “No way. I refuse to believe it.” Then when I put it on, it’s all late ‘90s thrashy pop punk (since it’s a discography, I imagine a good chunk of it’s actually from a while ago). Nice. –Joe Evans III (Once Tender, oncetenderrecords.blogspot.com)

Meltdown: LP
Expectations can be venomous, especially when they’re self-applied. Mark Ryan is serious about his music. He’s also very humble about it. For shit’s sake—let’s be honest—he could not play another note in his life and a wide swath of people’ll give him kudos for being in the Marked Men. What’s horrifying is putting yourself out for public consumption while not retreading the same territory or recycling riffs. There’s an entire industry—the music industry—built on the precept of “give the people what they want.” Meltdown is Mark’s second full-length outing as the Mind Spiders, and, as a collection, his strongest set of songs. They’re cohesive, escape-hatch hermetically sealed, and describe another world. (The title track—the last one on the album—took some getting used to, but then the Can / Kraftwerk synapses fired in my brain and I’m enjoying the way it folds the record up.) I’m sure Mind Spiders will be lumped into garage rock and top-downists will compare Mark to Jay Reatard (RIP). Go ahead, it’s not completely off-range, but Mind Spiders is a different species, a separate string theory. That said, Meltdown is also gargantuanly filmic in quality, like it’s a soundtrack of isolation and far distances. It’s creeping. It’s paranoid. It feels limitless like outer space, with dangers ranging from microbic infections, to radiation poisoning, to old-fashioned going batshit crazy. Think Omega Man, The Andromeda Strain, and,especially, Moon. I don’t say this lightly: this record’s brilliant. –Todd Taylor (Dirtnap)

Fucifier: 7” flexi
Mikey Erg doing hardcore. Surprising? Well, not really, especially if you’re nerdy enough to have gotten copies of the Ergs’ early stuff. It’s a fun disc to throw on every now and again, which is exactly what flexi discs are for anyway (I think my only other flexi is Billy And The Boingers “U Stink (but I Love U),” which, come to think of it, makes for a pretty great duo). –Megan Pants (John Wilkes Booth, johnwilkesboothrecords.com)

Split: 7”
I picked up this 7” after seeing The Pine Hill Haints, Dan Webb And The Spiders, and Mikey Erg in a warehouse space in Allston, MA. I haven’t found many house/warehouse shows since moving to Portland, ME, so it was a welcome change. There’s something that can’t be matched by walking into a room so humid and sweaty that you can actually taste the stank. I love it. Mikey: Two strong cuts from him. Pop-fueled with a big pump of adrenaline. One original, one cover. If you like anything with the word Erg, you’ll like this. Alex: So monotonous and flat it sounds like he may have been more bored to record this than I am to listen to it. –Megan Pants (Asian Man, asianmanrecords.com)

Children of Desire: LP

This record plays as if it were written, recorded, and developed strictly for the mid-’80s: back when popular music was actually good. It should go without saying, but mainstream modern pop is just plain awful. Not one single artist or band is doing anything worth a shit. Actual talent seems to have skipped several eras (Auto tune? Whatever happened to singing because you can?). Leave it to two Floridian twenty-somethings to fuse the aesthetic of minimalist post punk and new wave with the emotional crooning of Morrissey to remind us of a time when this sort of music was vibrant and innovative. Talent can’t be bought. It isn’t something you sign up for. Merchandise are absolute geniuses and make songwriting seem easy.

–Juan Espinosa (Katorga Works, katorgaworks.bigcartel.com)

Delirium: CD
When talking about creative endeavors, knowing how to do something—for example play an instrument or sing—can be a bit dicey. On the one hand, one wants to be proficient enough to be able to deftly execute whatever it is you’re doing. On the other hand, knowing too much or how to do something too well can also hamper one’s ability to create without having everything instead drown in technique, form, and all sorts of other shiny doohickeys. It’s clear pretty much from the first note that the two folks responsible for this are more than equipped and capable of playing instruments well—both are Berklee College of Music graduates and at least one has been in a band many folks know by name, at the very least. The performances here are damned good. The problem, however, is that many different ideas—jazz, punk, funk, R&B, and plain cerebral noodling—are thrown at the listener with no cohesion or solid foundation on which to lay it all. Many good ideas are tossed out into the ether, but one is not well matched with the next and built on a song structure that can hold it all together. Crunching that many disparate influences is not impossible—Butthole Surfers, Fishbone, Big Boys, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Slits, The Pop Group and many others have made some interesting racket along the same path—but it does take considerably more work to pull it off than just knowing how to play really goddamned good. A lot here hints at potential greatness, but the best plan would be to regroup and start simple with a few good ideas for whole songs and then run ‘em through the filter. –Jimmy Alvarado (Bloodthirsty Unicorn)

On Mars: LP
Who saw this coming? The Mean Jeans second LP is a concept rock opera pitting the tenets of a nihilistic dystopia against the Fountainhead’s solipsistic self-justifications! Just fuckin’ with you; this isn’t Rush. The Mean Jeans time travel to perpetual adolescence. They travel in a wood panel ‘70s Country Squire station wagon of the mind. Inside, it’s adorned with Billy Dee Williams and BillyOcean posters and life-slogans (“Works Every Time” / “Get out of My Dreams and into My Car,”). I love the mongoloid-haiku lyrics. You try being this stupid without permanent brain damage or devolving into late-Queers-”My Cunt’s a Cunt”ville before casting any stones. So if you’ve ever peed just a little in your pants while watching Alf, poured out the first sips to the dearly departed Joey, believe that the world can be solved by playing video games—only in arcades (and bigger troubles need life-sized joysticks for resolution a-la Joysticks)—that mini-bikes and toobin’ a river make more sense than mortgages and “showing up on time,” the Means Jeans’ll match your inseam. Like 138 + 420 = Keanu. Differences from the first LP? The forlorn, ballad-y almost misty-eyed counterpoint to the Ramones’ “I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend” is the fuck you, you fucking robot “Don’t Stop Partying.” Almost makes me want to cry. And wish my tears were gin. And then I’d drink my sorrows away. Thank you, Mean Jeans. Thank you. –Todd Taylor (Dirtnap, dirtnaprecs.com)

Scorched Earth Policies: CD
Formed from the ashes of legendary Los Angeles glam rock band Berlin Brats, the Mau Maus have proven to be one of punk rock’s more tenacious groups, with lineups having existed in five different decades now—and yet despite forming in 1977—prior to this CD, the only legitimate recordings one could find were two tracks featured on the second Hell Comes to Your House compilation. In an effort to both clear the vaults and make up for lost time, this features six tracks recorded in 1983 and produced by Doors guitarist Robbie Krieger (who also lays down a barnburner solo on one track), plus eight tracks of more recent vintage that meld fairly seamlessly with the earlier tunes, making this the definitive showcase for this band’s take on punk rock: one part Dolls, one part Stones, mix in a whole lotta attitude ‘n’ hostility and set the whole fuckin’ thing ablaze. An all-around swell collection complete with extensive liner notes, pics, and some of the finest punk rockin’ you’re likely ever gonna come across. –Jimmy Alvarado (Ratchet Blade)

Out of the Malls and into the Streets: Cassette
I’ll complain about cassette tapes until the cows come home, but even I’ll admit that garage rock is the perfect fit for those misfit toys. Mall Walkers offer us a brand of shouty garage rock a la Rocket From The Crypt, The Stooges, and Eddy Current Suppression Ring. Rock and roll like this is so unpretentious, it’s impressive. No frills, no bells, no whistles, just rock’n’fucking roll. Solid. –Bryan Static (Drug Party, drugparty.org)

Self-titled: 7” EP
Braced myself for some dopey, good-natured hardcore stuff based on the band name, cover art, and song titles like “Violent Cravings” and “Bondage Men,” but no, the music’s pretty sophisticated, with guitars that aren’t afraid to stray off and do their own thang. Not a thrash beat to be found. Been a good spell since this sub-sub-style was de rigueur, so it actually feels a bit fresh-airy. –Jimmy Alvarado (Sleepwalk, sleepwalkrecordings.com)

Crusher: 10”
I forced myself years back to abstain from using the word “classic” in describing a record. I’ve slipped a few times here and there, but I made damn sure that the record in question had a good chance of standing the test of time: did it contribute to the genre? Did it do this, did it do that? A whole battery of tests are now applied before I bring that “c” word descriptive out of my safety deposit box. Well, I’m pulling that word, classic, out and waving it around for this record. This is what grindcore should be. Full-on wall of distortion, chaos running wild, and intense as it fucking gets. The playing is super tight and they hit hard and fast every song. “Cognition” on the B side is their longest song and they shift back and forth from pummeling tempos to something a bit more spacious and pensive. They nearly tread into sludge but smartly opt to keep it just this side of it. The piece at the end of “Heaviest Bombing” reminds me of WestBay hardcore/ powerviolence/ grindcore like Plutocracy, and No Less. Not one bad song on this record. I predict that in the next ten years some middle-aged dude will be on some elite message board and start some thread about how awesome this record is, followed by a bunch of posts agreeing, until some weed who forgot his depression meds chimes in that his turd grind band was superior, shifting the discussion in another direction. But until that day, crank this fucker up nice and loud. –Matt Average (To Live A Lie, tolivealie.com)

Self-titled: 7”
Chris and Joe of the recently disbanded Shang-A-Lang match up with two other Las Cruces musicians. The goal: to form a new group to fill the hole created by S-A-L’s recent disbanding. After years and years of home recording Chris finally hands the controls over to someone else, and what do you know, it’s got a crisp and deep sound that a lot of people complained was missing from S-A-L records. And while it may please people who weren’t into the lo-fi, home recording thing, it’s far from over-produced or all too clean sounding. This record sounds healthy and fresh, energized by new beginnings and possibilities they create. –Daryl Gussin (Dirt Cult / Rad Girlfriend / Drunken Sailor / Dead Broke)

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