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· 1:Punk Parenthood for the Sleep Deprived
· 2:#330 with Craven Rock
· 3:One Punk’s Guide to Poetry
· 4:#331 with Mike Faloon and Todd Taylor
· 5:#332 with Kurt Morris

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Nights and Days in a Dark Carnival by Craven Rock
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Record Reviews

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Below are some recently posted reviews.

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Split: 7"
Uh Oh: I’ve seen this band before. I dig ‘em. My biggest problem in songwriting is that I get in my head too quickly. I feel like Uh Oh doesn’t have that problem, by just saying “Fuck it. Just keep going, and will figure it out.” Hopefully that doesn’t come off as a dig, because it means the end product sounds like a pop punk version of Black Flag or Dick Army. Off-Days: I have not seen this band before. Ironically or fittingly, I’d say they sound a lot like Uh Oh (this is my first experience with them, though I can tell there there’s Milwaukee connections), except maybe a little more slow, focused, and you can hear more of the lady vocals. Solid split all around. –Joe Evans III (HS!BF)

Always Meant to Hurt You: 7"
Baltimore has been known for producing angry, ugly bands that seem to take conventional styles and then boil them down to nothing and throw the reduction on an unsuspecting audience. Triac uphold the attitude with four grindcore ragers. Fast—but never sacrificing heavy for speed—and absolutely pissed. The songs are heavy akin to bands like Hatred Surge, but with a snotty approach and allowing for other influences to creep up, like the death-y atonal riffs in “Seedsower.” Insanely chaotic, yet tedious in execution, this is killer violence. –Ian Wise (A389)

Trauma Demolitional: Cassette
I couldn’t get the cassette to work (and I reviewed two others this time around, so I don’t think the problem’s on my end). But, I saw that it’s on their Bandcamp site for free and I am nice, so I listened to it there (if this is all just a big scheme to drive people to their Bandcamp site through blank tapes, it’s genius). It’s a quick listen that kind of sounds like an electro post punk Connie Dungs, or like if there was a Servotron-like project fronted by Brandon from the Connie Dungs. –Joe Evans III (Dingle)

Darker Handcraft: LP
On Darker Handcraft, Trap Them fuses the heaviest and most intense elements of hardcore, crust, metal, and grind into a full-on sonic assault. The riffs in every song are dark and brooding, with hooks that get stuck in your head. The furious beats of the drums hold everything together. Part of what makes Trap Them cranks like a well-oiled machine is the intense amount of musicianship they bring to each song. There’s more technical musicianship in one Trap Them song than many bands bring to entire albums. Riding these crushing waves of sound is the primal banshee screams of vocalist Ryan McKenney, one of the most epic of front men. His throat-ripping vocals and sharp, witty lyrics complete the band. Darker Handcraft is easily one of the best albums that came out in 2011, and you owe it to yourself to check it out. –Paul J. Comeau (Prosthetic, trapthem@gmail.com)

Dawn of the Daves: 7"
With this EP you don’t get the cleverness as found on the first 2 7”s, but the overall insanity has definitely increased, which makes for an interesting listen. With a sound that’s more akin to good New Bomb Turks than any of the members’ other bands, you really get a chance to dissect the tracks on an individual basis. The opening track “I Drink Everywhere” sets an appropriate mindset for the overall tone of this record. The closing track “Sweet HomeAmerica” definitely takes it up a notch, layering delusional, patriotic talk radio over wailing guitar solos. And the four tracks in between offer varying levels of quality, but through it all you still get the ‘Daves: belligerent, unapologetic punk that there’s no point in arguing with because they’re not listening to you. It’s just pure, uncut tunnel vision, but they happen to be pointed in the right direction. Too Many Daves is an anthropology major’s thesis waiting to happen. –Daryl Gussin (ADD / Eager Beaver / No Shy Of The DIY)

1998-2000: 10”
Wow, I was hooked on the first listen. Thulsa Doom was a crusty East Coast hardcore band akin to the Profits or a more straight-forward Anti-Product. This discography 10” gathers their lone EP, a split with Distraught, and two unreleased songs. Judging from the fliers included, they played some great shows, with everyone from the Subhumans and Vice Squad to Aus-Rotten and the Varukers. While I don’t know why their material is being gathered now, over a decade after their demise, I’m not complaining. This stuff is great: authentic, well-executed and dirty punk shit. It’s concise, rapid-fire, energetic as hell and, for the most part, timeless. Might be more in line with Maximumrocknroll’s readership, who knows, but this one really should appeal to folks beyond the scope of this particular time period. Definitely worth seeking out. –Keith Rosson (Sit & Spin)

Tied Up: 7”
Another excellent record from this band. This picks up where their Impending Doom single left off, though instead of songs about death, what you have here is one of denial, insecurity, and what appears to be complicated emotions. Both songs are strong and the kind that deserve repeated listens. Manuela has a great voice that displays a lot of power and emotion without resorting to shouting or screaming. Somewhat like Kat Arthur from Legal Weapon. The guitar work creates the mood and underscores the emotion in the words, with a rhythm section that adds the fire. “No Meaning” is a song that I wished lasted forever. –Matt Average (THH, crko-thh.blogspot.com)

Blink Wink: LP
How does a band that put out a near-perfect record last summer (Napalm Dream) go back and top it? By going down to the basement and banging out more great songs—that’s how. Amos handles most of the instruments on this bad boy. Longtime bassist Jesse Ponkamo only plays bass on two songs, but adds piano and percussion here and there. “Medical Curiosity” may throw some fans for a loop, but it kind of has an “Androgynous” feel to it. Certainly, Amos and Westerberg have about the same skill level on keys! I predict “Senile” will be a great sing-a-long live: “we’re building bridges/just to jump right off.” “Lost Love Star Lust” features a cool guitar riff that I think Robert Pollard may try to rip off. I think you get the point here. Blind Wink is the best thing to come out of Milwaukee since Happy Days (pre-Ted McGinley, of course). –Sean Koepenick (Dead Broke)

Mood Ring: LP
Excellent! After hearing their self-titled 7” from a year back, I was hoping they would put out more music. This does not disappoint. If you like the single, you’ll like this. If you haven’t heard Teenage Moods yet, then you need to. Stylistically along the lines of late-‘80s, early-‘90s indie noise pop. There’s distortion with melody. The comparison to Vaselines still stands, then there’s some stuff like Dinosaur Jr, and Pixies buried in the music, but these guys inject enough of their own personality into the sound. The guitars are, at times, jangly, then abrasive and distorted, then there’s the bass that is right up there in the mix, which gives the songs more lift. I can not get “Yellow War” out of my head to save my life. But the songs that I really like are “Our Little Dirt” (great song!), “World Bouquet,” and “No Place for a Tiger.” Quality listening. –Matt Average (25 Diamonds, 25diamonds.blogspot.com)

Shore: CD
Haven’t heard one of Ms. Surftone’s releases in a while, but this doesn’t disappoint if you’re one of those souls who don’t break out in a rash at instrumental albums. There’s less emphasis on straight surf rock here, though you can definitely feel its tinge all over the place, and the songs showcase a wider selection of influences—garage rock, a bit of new wave, straight rock, and even a cover of the Doors’ “Riders on the Storm” makes an appearance. She’s clearly adroit with her weapon of choice, mixing skill with feeling in ways too many guitar slingers sacrifice for fiery flashes of wankery, and her backing band give her all the room she needs to shine. Not bad at all. –Jimmy Alvarado (Susan Surftone, susansurftone.com)

Forever Won’t Wait: LP
It’s not always a good thing to have your band compared to the Marked Men, because well…it’s the MARKED MEN! Side by side with the average punk band, you might as well be comparing stains in the carpet to holographic alien hieroglyphics. There’s a pretty high bar. But The Steve Adamyk Band aren’t an average punk band. Utilizing the same pent-up energy and harmonic elements, they follow a similar path giving equal credence to power pop, garage punk, and poppy punk rock. Once again, Ottawa attacks with a barrage of absolutely killer choruses, yet this time they send in the finisher disguised as a crucial Dickies’ cover. If you haven’t checked this band out due to the international shipping rates, here’s your chance; and it’s worth taking. –Daryl Gussin (Dirtnap)

The Papas: CD
There’s apparently a zine that accompanies this with lyrics ‘n’ assorted tales, but I wasn’t privy to it, so based solely on the music, yer gettin’ quasi-angry poppy/punk/indie stuff here. While the nasal vocal delivery kinda wears thin and the songs start to blend into one another after a while, Mr. Boy knows his way around a hook and lyrics, and in smaller, more digestible bites, the tunes would make for worthwhile radio listening, assuming of course the radio was still worth listening to in the first place. –Jimmy Alvarado (Discount Horse, discount-horse.com)

Self-titled – but I’m calling it Five: CD
Well, I think it’s time to say it. The Spits are—whatever generation this is—Ramones. They simultaneously make the same record over and over again. But that’s a fuckin’ lie. Because there’s always some new mutation radioactively lurking from under the bed or zip-zap lightning bolting from an airborne creature’s eye with each self-titled record. They’ve taken back the alleys. They’re now in the water supply and spray painting dongs on the top of Mt.Shasta. Like mold culture spreading, changing colors, and sprouting hair on the forgotten last slice of pizza rattling around in the box, the Spits have harnessed the power of readymades-made-dangerous. All you—as the listener—have to do is decide to chomp on down instead of throwing The Spits away like an empty box. Pupils dilate. Motor skills slacken. Craving for glue increases. Durable punk for these weird-ass times. Who knew The Spits would have such legs, be so prolific, be some of the last men on earth? Great radiation-mutant rock. –Todd Taylor (In The Red, intheredrecords.com)

Born Ugly Got Worse: LP
Premature death’s a funny thing, especially if it’s exaggerated. So, Pretty Boy Thorson And The Falling Angels didn’t actually die. A couple of them went off into relationship cocoons that transformed into butterflies that flew back to Minneapolis. But in that pupal stage of becoming pretty in other states, Jesse Thorson was busy gettin’ himself a little lady, took up a deep interest in ducks and tractors, and formed a new band. “So, Todd ‘you still make that little zine?’ Taylor, what you’re saying is that Jesse Thorson is now in two bands?” No. He’s in four. “Well, what’s the difference?” Does it really matter? Actually. A bit. Flip the cards over one after another: Jesse dances in this band since he isn’t tethered by a guitar. Saw him throw up twice in one day—two sets five or six hours apart. Meat. Potatoes. Homemade pizza. Your drugs are mine. Midwest. Bad decisions as rusted crowns. Large bellies as fulcrum points to not passing out. Happy misery. Miserable happiness. Now, debuting ‘lil happiness. Long drives on questionable tires. Mikey Erg. Harpoons of self-doubt. Paddy Costello. Johnny Cellphone. DaveStrait. Super. Group. Of dudes. Cock Sparrer as American, country-fringed, and snow-tough. Or Johnny Cougar playing Defiance songs. And really great enunciation. This isn’t a diss: this record’s like an invisible electric dog fence. I’ve been hearing Jesse sing these songs for years—you can see the well-worn tracks in the lawn—but it’s always a pleasure to watch him catch those frisbees, bring them back, then pee on your leg for your time. Guess what? Excellent record. PS: I’m offering ten dollars for anyone to send me a copy of Jesse’s emo zine that he’s Stalined. –Todd Taylor (Kiss Of Death)

Don’t Be One: Cassette
I’m going to either burn out the cassette player in my car or get a massive speeding ticket for how often and how hard I rock out to this tape while I’m driving. Short Walk plays face-ripping fastcore/powerviolence with lots of blast beats and the occasional brief slow and heavy breakdown. There are twelve songs on this tape with hilarious names like “Retail Retard,” and “I’m Boring, Fuck You.” Each track is a screaming onslaught of guitars and drums, all clocking in at under forty-five seconds, and there’s not a dud among them. My only disappointment with this tape was a lack of lyric sheets so I could scream along. –Paul J. Comeau (Short Walk, playfastcore@gmail.com, shortwalk.bandcamp.com)

“Evening News”: 7”
Raw punk rock here. As amateurish as Kleenex and Catholic Discipline. “Evening News” was recorded at someone’s house. The music doesn’t hide it. Fucking brutal as hell. And impressive. Then again, it’s on Goner, so what did you expect? –Ryan Leach (Goner, goner-records.com)

Errand Boy: EP
With a name like Sex Cult, you get my attention. Then there’s the retro minimal punk cover art of the diagonal black and grey lines printed on a paper sleeve. So far, so good. Get home and put the record on the turntable, and I’m hit with some lo-fi punk rock that has a psychedelic side. The guitar has a tinny sound (think Swell Maps), but it works here and doesn’t hinder the power. Just check out the squalling sounds they get out of it on “Start to Wonder,” which is a mid-tempo plodder that goes out in to the outer realms and back again. The title track is a catchy burst. “Sid Visions” rises out of the heat with a nice cruising speed and a delivery with some attitude and urgency. It’s my favorite cut on here. I anticipate there’s more to follow? One for your want list. –Matt Average (Goner, goner-records.com)

Self-titled: 7"
You certainly can’t judge this 7” by its cover, not that there’s anything wrong with its hilarious burger abortion artwork. Still, I wasn’t expecting a harder-edged version of Fifteen based on the graphical introduction. This Baltimore band’s five-song debut is fantastic. It comes with a download card for easy digital access when not hanging by the turntable. Sometimes sounding as much like a known singer as Scum Again’s vocalist does (he really is a dead-on Jeff Ott doppelganger) can be a curse, but who wants to listen to that silly born again dude from Fifteen anymore anyways? I’ll take Scum Again instead. –Art Ettinger (Toxic Pop, toxicpoprecords.com)

Baby Teeth: LP
Originally self-released by the band in 2006, Baby Teeth returns to print thanks to Screaming Females’ label Don Giovanni. The Females’ first full-length is laden with the noodly guitar riffs and bass lines that made us all fans of theirs to begin with. Returning to this album in a fresh vinyl update is a lot like rekindling a relationship with an old flame and finding the sparks are still there. –Paul J. Comeau (Don Giovanni, screamingfemales@gmail.com)

Delikatesy: CD
This Czech band will whip you into a frenzy when playing four-chord, ‘82-style metallic punk. I wish they did that more because the rest of the CD sounds like a ham-handed Faith No More with Cryptkeeper on the mic. –Chris Terry –Guest Contributor (Papagajuv Hlasatel, PHR.com)

“La Ley” b/w “Psoriasis”: 7”
Spanish-speaking band singing about bad cops and bad dandruff (as a metaphor for fucked medical care). The singer is convincingly spitty and bristling. The guitars are rock but crash instead of long-stroke wank the fretboard. If it wasn’t recorded and mastered so well, this could be slipped on in an early Killed by Death and few would be any the wiser. Sounds the equivalent to a stick-and-poke tattoo, a well-worn leather jacket, and mottled teeth. On point and achieving exactly what they’re going for. Strong. –Todd Taylor (Modern Action)

Greatest Hits: CD
RKL was one of those bands who managed to transcend Mystic Records’ notoriously shitty recording quality and release at great hardcore 45, It’s a Beautiful Feeling, at a time when the genre was getting to a point of generic ridiculousness, especially in the case of Mystic’s output at the time. Oddly enough, though I really dug that release and saw them at least once or twice back then, I never paid much attention past that. Outside of my go-to “I spent a helluva lotta time drunk as a muh-fuh back then” excuse, I’ve got no explanation why. I know they kinda popped things up after a bit and influenced peers like NOFX as a result, and that might actually go-to reason number two, but prior to this, I can’t think of a song of theirs past 1987 or so I’ve heard. No matter. This is, for the most part, a rock-solid live “hardcore” set recorded in West Berlin in 1988. The band is pretty much on-point—and it’s pretty goddamned impressive hearing just how proficient they were on their instruments—the sound quality is right off the board, so it’s purty sounding for all you audio fascists, plus there’s an unlisted plethora of what sounds like their later poppier stuff I’m guessing is heretofore unreleased, and the booklet identifies a link where you can watch footage of the band from around the time the live stuff was recorded. –Jimmy Alvarado (Destiny, destiny-tourbooking.com)

“Gimme Gimme Gimme Gimme” b/w “Rock’n’Roll Lady": 7”
…Ramma Lamma are my favorite Wisconsin band right now, although that could be a matter of damning them with faint praise at this juncture. They answer the age old ((okay, day old)) question of what it would be like if a less-annoying Suzi Quatro fronted a three-piece version of Slade and played Mud covers, or Cichlids covers, or something deep like that, as well as the question of what would happen if someone spelled “Rama Lama” with extra M’s. They continue their jaunty strut to bang-shang-a-lang-gri-la by creating that rarest of fowls, a Christmas 45 THAT DOESN’T SUCK. Unless you bothered listening closely to the lyrics, as so many young people do, you wouldn’t really know it was a Christmas 45, and that’s the kind of sugar cookies Santa likes. The A-side chorus of “Christmas time is a time for givin’, so give me everything you got / don’t bother givin’ me nothin’ baby, unless you’re gonna spend the night” manages to completely fit the whole “Christmas” bit into Ramma Lamma’s standard agenda of Rockin’, and…and Lovin’, and…and…Rockin’ some more, instead of the other way around—fitting the Rock Agenda into the Christmas paradigm—and that is exactly As It Should Be. The synth interlude is properly unexpected, and the real or imagined sleigh bells add a respectful dollop of surrendering without giving oneself away. The b-side is a little more heavy-handed in its Christmassyness, but they have the good sense to steal the riff to “Gudbuy T’Jane” so it’s all good. Throw in a sugarplum fairy or two and we’ll call it a deal! BEST SONG: “Gimme Gimme Gimme Gimme” BEST SONG TITLE: “Gimme Gimme Gimme Gimme” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: I recorded one Christmas song about twenty years ago, which was called “Gimme Stuff.” In light of recent events, i should have called it “Gimme Gimme Gimme Gimme Stuff.” –Rev. Norb (Certified PR)

Seriously: CD
Ralph Carney is a multi-instrumentalist who’s been associated with bands in what seems like damned near every corner of the new wave—B-52s, The Waitresses, They Might Be Giants, Talking Heads, Jonathan Richman, and the list goes on. As the band’s name and the title suggest, this is jazz, specifically along the lines of small-group, ragtime-derived early swing (hence the “jass” spelling, I’m guessing). The lion’s share of stuff here are run-throughs of standards (like “Echoes of Harlem,” “You Took Advantage of Me,” and “I Wish I Were Twins”), and they handily do them justice—solid musicianship, choice soloing, and a sense of respect not so bogged down with reverence that no room is left for some playful bounce. If traditional jazz is yer chosen poison, this’ll go down nicely. –Jimmy Alvarado (Smog Veil)

Split: 7”
The Cthulu-inspired tentacled monstrosity on the cover pointed me in the right direction: this one’s chock full of dark, metal-influenced hardcore. Rapsöd’s got oodles of those little metallic guitar dives peppered in between yelped vocals, with the second song relying heavily on gang vocals; it’s somewhere between crust and metallic youth crew stuff, which actually sounds better than it reads here. Prumyslova Smrt is significantly crustier and doom-heavy, with a drummer that clearly adores his double-bass pedal. Think Armistice or the harsher moments in the Awakening discography. Both bands sing in Czech with English translations, with “fuck you all” apparently reading as the same in both. –Keith Rosson (PH)

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