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No Idea Records

Record Reviews

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Below are some recently posted reviews.

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UNLEARN:
When the Reaper Comes to You, Will You Clap?: 7"
Black and white war imagery. It never gets old, huh? Uh, yeah it does. But what Unlearn lacks in artistic creativity they more than make up for with atonal, bulldozing guitars complemented by a frenzied yet tight rhythm section. Highly recommended for fans of Kriegshög, Meanwhile, Framtid, and anyone else who’s a sucker for ultra distorted D-beat. –Juan Espinosa (Deranged)


UNION ELECTRIC:
“Tunnels” b/w “An Irish Orphan”: 7"
Vaguely alt-country. If you’re super into, like, The Gaslight Anthem you might be into this, though when I want to listen to country, I want, like, something I’d hear playing pool at a diner somewhere in Arizona, not just something that could pass on the “modern country” station here in not-Arizona. –Joe Evans III (Rank Outsider)


TURKISH TECHNO:
Past Due: LP
I don’t want to sound racist… totally fucking with you. Ever notice that when people say that, the next fuckin’ thing out of their mouths is racist? Turkish Techno finally releases a full-length LP. The secret decoder ring to Turkish Techno is realizing that they’re coming from the earliest reaches of the Lookout! catalog and they celebrate almost all of it ‘til right around to The Oranges Band and when the Donnas had a tens-of-thousands-of-dollars-per-video budget. (Dude, I thought Andy was kidding me that Tilt didn’t start out with Cinder singing every song. That first 7” is a trip.) Turkish Techno is itchy and spazzy with pop punk as the infrastructure, but it’s Riverside’d up. It’s an unfinished offramp to an abandoned suburb style of punk. It’s desperation as palpable as the smog that gets backed up at the foothills of the San Bernardinos. They’ve made a house of music worth squatting in. It’s a bit abrasive, a bit Today’s Empires, Tomorrow’s Ashes Propagandhi with a whole bunch of “fuck yous” and “stupids” thrown in. It’s like waking up in a hotel room with the middle cushion of the couch totally missing, the sticky half of an Oreo stuck on the wall, and… wait for it… someone having tracked in human shit over the carpet, barefoot. And no clues as to how any of that happened. Bad ideas, yeah, Turkish Techno’s got ‘em. And they wear ‘em like official-looking badges. And you gotta laugh along, because, if you don’t, you’ll start crying. –Todd Taylor (Wolf Dog / Muy Autentico / Dirt Cult)


TERRIBLE FEELINGS:
Impending Doom: 7” single
The cover and the song titles had me thinking this was going to be some dark and heavy music. Definitely not the case. At least musically. Lyrically, yes. Thoughts of death and sinking into depression. The music is a little more light and upbeat. Though not wimpy pop. Filter the Wipers through European punk influences, where’s it’s tuneful, yet has this unpolished quality about it. The title track is the definite standout, as it has more energy and a stronger structure. That’s not to say the flipside, “Death to Everyone” is shabby. Far from it. It’s well written, has layers, and adds to the mood. Yet, it’s “Impending Doom” that really grabs me. –Matt Average (Deranged, derangedrecords.com)


TEENAGE SLANG SESSION:
Session Begins!: CD
I guess Japan’s No People is officially over, and that’s a shame, but it appears members have gone on to form an outfit of equal caliber: Teenage Slang Session. Raucous and rowdy, juvenile-at-heart punk with an organ pumping away, and lyrics that hastily shift between silly and sad before the spit even drips off the ceiling. It’s impossible to listen to this CD without imagining a horde of drunken peers flopping around and acting ridiculous, and that’s an image I love seeing. –Daryl Gussin (Underground Government, undergroundgovernment.com)


SURRENDER / 1981:
Split: Split
Two bands channeling their inner-Crass: the unmistakable, unapologetic, spelled-out politics. The skree-and-garroting guitars. The crows on white snow and red blood feel of a corpse-strewn battlefield. The talk-singing, the strangulated small animal vocals, military-style chants. La Cañada’s Surrender belt out the epic “Crucified” and a pretty rough-sounding, low-vocal, live-in-Seattle track, “Praise to Capital.” And since Crass was such a collective and its nine members oscillated in their communal duties, one could make the argument that Finland’s 1981 is the other side of coin of Surrender. Musically, they could be the same band and they deliver two strong tracks, including the “Emma Goldman could definitely dance to this” track, “Silence.” Good split. –Todd Taylor (Stonehenge, €5 postpaid, stonehengerecords.com)


SUBURBANITE:
Self-titled: 7”
This is another New York that sounds more like a Boston skinhead band from the ‘80s than they do anything else. I know the description makes the band sound apocryphal, but if this brand of top notch hardcore is becoming a trend, I wholly welcome it. If SSD had written songs about how isolated and awkward they were in the mid- ‘80s instead of making a bid for commercial success (and gotten a vocalist worth a shit), How We Rock may have sounded something like this. “Not the Same” is one of the meanest hardcore songs I’ve heard in a long time and the chorus riff is devastating. I like bands that play fast but can pull off slow songs without losing any of the fury. The record has an anxious and paranoid feeling throughout and I get the same feeling reading the lyrics to this as I did when I heard No Comment for the first time. I listened to this like eight times while writing this review and now I don’t trust anybody. –Ian Wise (Youth Attack)


STRAP STRAPS, THE:
Invisible Knife: 10”
This is truly a band of mystery. The only information I can find out there on The Strap Straps is from the No Front Teeth website and an incredibly sparse Myspace page... Nothing but “featuring members of the Briefs, Cute Lepers, and the Spits.” It was little to go on, but definitely enough for me to order it. I am glad that I did because this is one of the best things I’ve heard in a long time! Drums, guitar, two basses, vocals, and insanity. It’s very Spits-like but with no keyboards or voice modulation. Short blasts about cops and killing. Songs that will have you singing about “murdering love” in public. So, so good! I keep playing it over and over. You will too! –Ty Stranglehold (No Front Teeth)


STEVE ADAMYK:
Desecrate: 7”EP
Powerpop. The equation’s ass-simple. Be catchy as hell. Get every instrument bouncing and punchy. After the first listen, hum that shit in the shower. Hum that shit when eating your morning bowl of cereal. Hum that shit when your boss lashes your back. Hum that shit to the cashier at the supermarket. Go home, take your shoes off, and slide across your floor in your underpants humming that shit. It’s much easier to do poorly than pull off correctly. Think Tranzmitors. Think candy knife fights. Think style, but not slavery… to that style. Think Go! Ottawa! Go! Steve Adamyk! Nice. –Todd Taylor (Taken By Surprise)


SHIT CREEK:
Scene Cred Is Our Name and Lust for Brains: 7" EPs
Ben Snakepit’s singing voice sounds like a long, disorganized beard with food bits in it. And that’s not a dig. Brandon Dude Jams—I can’t be the first to say this—is really channeling his inner Ryan Young of Off With Their Heads both in with “We’re all fucked! You’re fucked! I’m the most fucked! Fucked! Whoah oh! Sing with me!” lyrics and the sounds his mouth makes when he sings. On the uptick, for sure, is the song “Guitarded,” which chronicles the Brazilian mahogany from the forest to the factory to Ben’s incapable hands playing it, to the awkward position it puts him in. If you don’t read the lyrics and just discount the music as “Bearded dudes with hygiene issues music,” you could make the argument that it sounds like bears wrestling... but you’d still be a douche. Shit Creek also call out hobopunx because, when you strip it down, they’re just base consumers, too. Knowing Ben and having met Brandon, Shit Creek is also a vessel that confronts “midlife” punk. I wouldn’t say “crisis” quite yet, but since punk is often hard on the body, the early thirties is when your “body rental” starts becoming “body ownership” and it’s time for some reevaluation. Shit Creek do that in song. To wrap it all up, what’s that word I’m thinking of? It’s a young shoot or twig of a plant, especially one cut for grafting or rooting? Or a descendant of a notable family? Shit Creek are really mad at that word. And, as a favor to me, please name your first LP, Up. –Todd Taylor (Cred: Dirt Cult / Lust: ADD)


STARVATION:
Arm Against the Forces: 6”
Grindcore. Brutal. Short. Members of Asshole Parade and Assassinate The Scientist. (Wow, really? When I think of that band, grindcore does not readily come to mind. Like, at all.) We’ve got nine or ten songs of wire-tight “powerviolence” in which a frantic, besotted chipmunk handles vocal duties. Lyrics made up of one or two sentences. “Fuck The Kids” goes, “Globalized market force, transnational holocaust, starving youth, slave driving murders.” Song lasts about as long as it took to read that line. You already know if you’re gonna get it or not. –Keith Rosson (No Idea)


SQUALORA:
Hell Is Other People: CD
Crusty metal-punk stuff, a little Discharge here and a lotta Amebix there. A bit paint-by-numbers, but I found myself really diggin’ things more they dug their feet into the more epic, blustery bits that reminded a bit of Killing Joke on an apocalyptic bender. –Jimmy Alvarado (Minor Bird)


SPIDER FEVER:
Whatcha Gonna Do?: 7”
I take one look at the label, expect something interesting at worst, and lo and behold, that’s exactly what I get. Gotta love when that happens. Both tracks sound like some great long-lost punk forty-five, one of them rare gems that is just so well executed that it never sounds dated. Loud, fucked up in all the right ways; just plain fuggin’ rockin’ and over way before you want it to be. –Jimmy Alvarado (Hozac, hozacrecords.com)


SOMETHING FIERCE:
Don’t Be So Cruel: CD
Fucking love this record. Had to make a concerted effort to not listen to it repeatedly and burn out my love for it. Clean and simple sound pulled off brilliantly; catchy with early punk vibes. I can’t even pick my favorite track off the record. Another solid win for Dirtnap’s collection. Super bummed I missed the band when they played downtown L.A. –Samantha Beerhouse (Dirtnap)


SOLE:
Nuclear Winter 2—Death Panel: CD
I’ve long fancied myself a connoisseur, if you will, of underground hip hop, but though I’ve long been aware of him and the label he co-founded, I don’t think I’ve ever actually heard anything by Sole. From what I’ve been able to learn, this is his second foray into “rap as journalism” and applying the Situationist “detournement” concept of “turning expressions of the capitalist system against itself” to hip hop by repurposing mainstream rap jams for political ends. Busdriver, B. Dolan, Mac Lethal, Ceschi Ramos, Kool A.D. from Das Racist, Cadalack Ron, and others join in the shenanigans, providing a hodge-podge of different delivery styles to contrast and compliment Sole’s “stream-of-consciousness to the point of occasionally eschewing rhyming altogether” tack here. When it works, solid beats deliver withering political commentary—something that, these days, seems to have long been bred out of the mainstream strain of what was once a revolutionary, topical, and vital musical genre. –Jimmy Alvarado (DIY Bandits)


SOKEA PISTE:
Oire: 7”EP
Modern Finnish hardcore. By that, I mean they know their punk roots and they’ve updated to the black ice, ice-pick, hard-scraping, atmospheric, moody/melodic hardcore ushered in by From Ashes Rise (Alkaen Tuhka Nousta) and His Hero Is Gone, yet has a distinctly European feel, along the lines of El Banda. Paranoid neutrality. Mistrust. I think that language and history are sometimes important in understanding music, so here goes. The land area that now makes up Finland was settled immediately after the Ice Age, but it wasn’t until 120 years ago, in 1892, that Finland adopted its own national language. Before 1892, Fins mostly spoke Swedish. (Russia was trying to woo Finland away from Sweden and figured if the Fins had their own national identity, they’d be easier isolate and conquer.) That backfired. During the Second World War, Finland fought twice against the Soviet Union, and lost both times. Finland remained an independent democracy but was forced to stay neutral through the Cold War, until 1991. Finnish has always sounded and looked impenetrable to me as a language. The band’s name is “Blind Spot.” The 7”‘s title is “Symptom.” Scandinavia doesn’t get much sun in the winter. And it makes sense now that Sokea Piste’s punk band legacy is Lama (“depression”), Riistetyt (“exploited”), Rattus (I’m assuming a play on “rats”), and the out-of-place-name-wise Terveet Kädet (“healthy hands”). A cold blast of ice-filled air from the north. Sounds like snow plows scraping near-empty parking lots sheeted with ice. Recommended. –Todd Taylor (Peterwalkee, peterwalkeerocords.com)


SLUDGE:
Self-titled: CD
Dunno much about these guys, but from what I was able to glean, this was/is a Vancouver band, not the L.A. band Sludge, who ruled the roost and issued a number of releases on Sympathy For The Record Industry in the late ‘80s/early ‘90s. The tunes here start off a bit on the punk-circa-1987 side. Around mid-way they begin to devolve to a sound more apt for their given moniker. The sound quality is a few steps above demo, but on the whole they do/did what they do/did well. –Jimmy Alvarado (Pankratium)


SELF MADE MONSTERS:
One Man Race: CD
I clearly remember liking the forty-five they released a good while back, and the formula here’s the same as it was there—simple, pounding rock/punk stompers with guttural, primal vocals. Somehow, though, this just ain’t registering like it should. Could totally be my mood, so I’ll take full blame, but I wholly expected this to blow me outta my seat and it just ain’t. –Jimmy Alvarado (Mystery School, mysteryschoolrecords.com)


SEA OF SHIT:
Self-titled: Cassette
Disgustingly heavy power violence from Chicago. The bulk of these songs hover around thirty seconds to a minute, and it finishes off with a three-minute death march that, thankfully, doesn’t follow the sludge formula you see far too often to close out power violence releases. The vocals are a distorted take on Lack Of Interest and the drums provide a calculated backbone to the chaos. The recording is above average and the guitar tone is sick. If this band had put out a split with Eunuch, I wouldn’t have to buy another power violence record for a year. By the time you read this review, the tape will be available as a 7”. –Ian Wise (Kills You)


SCAM, THE:
Sic World: CD
A compendium of recordings here from a New Hampshire band active 1985-90. Collected here are their first demo, the Everything Ends in Rot EP, the heretofore unreleased Sic World LP, and assorted compilation and live tracks. Their sound places them squarely within the trends of the years of their existence—primarily hardcore punk with enough assorted hues of metal to make the song lengths longer, the structures a bit more complex, and the guitars beefier. They even manage to keep the wanking to a bare minimum. The result is a dark sound that varies between mid-tempo to up-tempo and a singer that sounds like he’s well versed in Bathory’s back catalogue. –Jimmy Alvarado (Welfare)


SATAN’S CHEERLEADERS:
Hell Is for Hippies: CD + DVD
Sometimes these “discography” discs are quite interesting, because they offer the opportunity to see a group of fledgling musicians, in this case four punkers hailing from somewhere in 1980s NY, find their sound. The band’s name has “the original” prefixed right above it, ostensibly to prevent confusion between these cats, who existed 1983-85 or so, and the band that put out a buncha vinyl on Sympathy For The Record Industry years later. The forty-one tracks here come from three different demos, one from each of their years of existence. The first, Created in Your Image, is a straight-up garage recording, with thrashy tempos and howled vocals spit out via a raw-as-fuck recording, resulting in a sound that sits somewhere between early Adrenaline OD and Connecticut legends Seizure. The second demo, Bark Twice for Freedom, reins in the chaos a bit—though the tempos are still largely zippy, the tunes show a wee bit more sophistication—and the recording sounds like a more traditional four-track affair. By the third, the heretofore unreleased Hell is for Hippies, however, the band has tempered their hardcore with a sound that might be comparable (if one was really stretching) to, say, the Minutemen, albeit with a helluva lot less funk and a helluva lot more Beefheart. Though each era is not without its charms, for my money this last bit of mania is the real gem here, where the band took those early influences and forged a sound that was all their own. Hippies was a demo for an album that, apparently, was never recorded, which is a damned shame ‘cause it would’ve easily been considered a classic of punk’s freakier fringe, based on what’s here. The DVD is footage of the band thrashing up a thirty-plus minute set in their garage, with sound that’s raw but discernable. –Jimmy Alvarado (Welfare)


RUMSPRINGER / SHANG-A-LANG:
Split: 7”EP
Rumspringer: You know what I like? When you read along, it’s all, “Shit, man. Life’s a black hole. All my socks have holes. All my relationships have holes.” But when you listen to the tone, pacing, and you just mimic the words, it sounds so, “Hell yeah, man! Every day’s an endless series of high fives! I communicate clearly, efficiently, and in a way that’s no one’s ever uncomfortable with what I’m sayin’! Huge slices of awesome pie for everyone!” That’s what I like. That dichotomy of light and dark, of shadows and sunlight. One long, epic song from the boys of Coolidge, AZ. Shang-A-Lang: Can I shed that one tear now, a little prematurely? Is it a bit too much if I say Shang-A-Lang breaking up is like someone littering my sacred ground? Should I say that, or should we solicit the “Smithsonian of Punk” to enshrine Chris’s 4-channel recorder? There’s one more 7” on the horizon and then the van’s officially launched over the side of the cliff. If duct tape was a sound… sigh… broken bottles, low expectation/high yield punk never sounded better. –Todd Taylor (Dirt Cult)


RESIST CONTROL:
Dissipation: 7"
Fuck yeah! Resist Control plays furious fastcore that immediately reminded me of Scholastic Deth as well as contemporaries like Low Threat Profile and Coke Bust. Eleven songs (at 45 RPM!) of unrelenting blast beats (goddamn, this drummer kills!) and politically-charged lyrics. What more do you need? –Chris Mason (Shock To The System/Feral Kid)


RED DONS:
: 7"
There is a small hand of punk bands that are unmistakably down that, I’m sure, would have a very wide appeal among people who “used to like punk” or “outgrew punk,” as well as, “Oooh, what’s this punk stuff about?” people. I’m not talking about the Rancid/Green Day axis of mainstream appeal. I’m talking the potential Fugazi levels of sustainability—large level, international underground level. Because the Red Dons are instantly catchy, smart-as-all-hell, musically interesting, and so big and realized in sound, that I’m hard-pressed to think of a band with a largesse of morals that equals the excitement of the music they’re currently making. For those who like: punk and/or punk and celebrating under that huge fuckin’ umbrella. Untouchable and worth hunting down? Absolutely. –Todd Taylor (Taken By Surprise)


RAW POWER:
Screams from the Gutter/After Your Brain: CD
Weird time, the ‘80s. Dunno if the same rings true for the average American punker of today, but back then it seemed that a good chunk of the mohwawked masses were tuned in to what their brethren in other states and countries were doing. I know that many of us in East Los were Weird time, the ‘80s. Dunno if the same rings true for the average just as aware of bands like Mob 47, Indigesti, Solución Mortal, Gism, as we were Minor Threat, Big Boys, Hüsker Dü, and so on. Italy’s Raw Power was one of the heavyweights on the ‘80s international punk scene, thanks in no small part to their mind-blowing track “Fuck Authority” on MRR’s seminal Welcome to 1984 compilation, and their Screams from the Gutter LP originally (and still on—Westworld is effectively the same label) released by Toxic Shock in 1985. The latter came just as the whole metalcore/speed metal thang was just starting to really get some wind in its sails, and the metal-tinged guitars over crazed hardcore lent credence to their chosen moniker and earned ‘em much love from both sides of the punk/metal chasm. The production of their 1986 follow up, After Your Brain, zaps a wee bit of the sonic boom out of the guitar sound, but the strong songwriting is still very much accounted for. Conspicuously absent are the tracks from the You are the Victim seven-incher that was released between albums, but don’t let that dissuade ye. If you’re on a budget but really wanna get acquainted with these cats, I’d say your best bet is to procure this CD and the Burning the Factory CD, which consists of a smokin’ earlier demo and a live set, and you’re pretty much in the deep end of the pool. Classic stuff in every great sense of the term. –Jimmy Alvarado (Westworld)


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