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No Idea Records

Record Reviews

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Below are some recently posted reviews.

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Split: 7"
On one hand, you could tout this record as a well-deserved salute to two of punk’s more celebrated modern primitives. On the other hand, you could tack it up to yet another garish attempt to sell the gunk scraped from the toenails, clipped from the frosty cadaver of another dead-as-dirt rock star who is now bigger and more well-known in death than he was in life. That is not to, in any way, slight Mr. Duane Peters, but to put into sharp focus the likely truth that it’s GG’s rotting pudge that is the crackling fat behind the “sizzle” being sold here. But I suppose that all seems to have a badly burnt curl of cynicism to it, which is probably not entirely fair. Maybe this record really is nothing more than a celebration of two dent-headed, scar-decorated, half-cocked meat rockets determined to streak obscenely across the sky, crash, and finally implode in the absolute middle of nowhere and the craggy musical detritus they’ve left behind. I’m not sure why I wrote that last sentence that way or whether I really agree with it or not, but I’m going to leave it alone for now. Chances are that GG never regretted or even thought twice about the bubbling brown glop that burped out of his backside and splattered on the floor, so I’m going to adopt a similar attitude here. Reckless art deserves reckless criticism, if it deserves any criticism at all. And I mean that as a sort of compliment. While a declaration like that has all the stodgy pomposity of an Antonin Artaud or Guy Debord, this 7”, though dressed up as a sort of country-fried take on GG and Duane, is also presented as “art.” In fact, one of the two spoken word cuts here is a recording of GG himself waxing philosophic about what “art” means to him. I’ve listened to his take several times now and I’m still trying to figure out if I think it’s just the dumb flapping tongue of a desperate poop mime, or if it’s a cut-to-the core statement by an “art brut” performer stripped of all the typical pretentious baggage. All I know is that I agree with it more than I don’t. Duane’s spoken cut here is more or less a throw away comment about what he thinks about GG. Again, I don’t disagree with what he says, but it’s hardly illuminating. But no surprise there, as pretty much everyone knows that the thoughts that emanate from these two gentlemen have about as much profundity as the lint tumbleweeds in Johnny Paycheck’s navel. More important than any punk rock philosophizing, this record has two songs by GG and the Criminal Quartet and two songs by Duane Peters Gunfight. GG’s tracks sound like all the attempts at country you’ve heard from GG before. Basically, it sounds like drunken karaoke recordings made in GG’s motel room after a show, while he has a lamp shade on his head and piss on his breath and he croons off-key like a croaking salamander. Duane Peters has a tune called “Last Cowboy,” which is a rocker with a slightly country punk (Nine Pound Hammer) feel to it and is probably the highlight of the record. His other “tune” is called “Marry Me” and is a musical interpretation of a full-throttle booze stupor, complete with woozy slide blues guitar. It features the skate boarding legend sounding like he gargled with a thermos full of Tom Waits’s hacked up phlegm right before the recording was made. As it’s packaged here, we basically have the grubby miscreant spiritual grand kiddies of Hank Williams Sr., boozed up, narcotized, and making recordings they probably don’t remember ever making. And at a level several steps lower and seamier than any so-called “outlaw country.” This is more like “murderer’s row country.” These louts haven’t a speck of decency in them and there’s more dirt and grit in just one of their scabs than on the entire bodies of Waylon, Willie, and David Allen Coe put together. And for that reason alone, in this world oozing with turgid, jingoistic, corporate-teat-sucking sow bellies like Toby Keith, this is a dirty good thing. –aphid (Ponk)

Split: 7"
Gestapo Khazi: Dangerhouse-style fingerprints aplenty, and the fingerprints are distinct, not blurry. Explanation: Obscurely referenced, tightly grasped musical details are incorporated onto long-and-widely loved musical icons; think Weirdos mixed with Chuck Berry or The Weasels mixed with The Ventures. This duality even follows with their name. The Gestapo were the king assholes of the Third Reich, as many know, but Khazi, is derived from a 19th Century Cockney word that translates into toilet, which the internet barely knows. Well played, gentlemen. Ebonics: Driving budget garage rock with dirty socks condomed over all the microphones. It suffers from the clarity of the band on the other side, but still retains some Mummies-like charm. –Todd Taylor (Self-released)

Some Days You Get the Thunder: LP
Oddly enough, The Gateway District’s Some Days You Get the Thunder may not be the best-known Minneapolitan supergroup LP of the year, billed second to Dear Landlord’s Dream Homes. But for my money (or lack thereof), it’s just as good, if not better. Multiple female vocalists and even more songwriters in the band make this a dynamic record, occasionally adding some country twang and pop to the mix, but maintaining a rough-around-the-edges punk feel throughout. Dream Homes might be the Friday night rager, and the Saturday night rager for that matter, but Some Days You Get the Thunder is the quintessential Sunday hangover record, perfect to make you remember the best parts of last night, lament the outcome of it, or maybe want to do it again. –Guest Contributor (It's Alive)

Some Days You Get the Thunder: LP
Most times, it’s best not to rush into a relationship. Folks who have a habit of falling instantly in love also tend to end those relationships just as abruptly. Feelings can get broken like bones. Words can be sharpened like knives, slashing both memory and skin. I took some hand holding time with The Gateway District, some share-some-beers, let’s-go-swimming time, some crank the record high to softer headphone time to see if we really did share the same interests; liked each other’s world views and company. Was it a short-time crush or something more lasting? There are many pitfalls in record reviewing. Here are two. One of them is premature ovations. The second is approaching a record that takes time to reveal itself on repeated listenings in the short amount of time available for a timely review. The irony is that these are the records, in the long run, I’ll listen to the most. Some Days You Get the Thunder is an expansive, fun, poetic, daring, personal, and DIY dance-friendly LP with fiddle in two songs. The crib notes is progressing, celebratory, strong-willed Minneapolis punk pop by ex-and-current Soviettes, Rivethead, Banner Pilot, Dear Landlord, and a farrier, so you have the basic legend to the map. Thankfully, all members continue to explore, discover, and mix experience with wonder. –Todd Taylor (It's Alive)

Some Days You Get the Thunder: CD
The first track on this album is a roaring garage punk gem and the voice screaming, “Now my body shakes like an exit sign/ It helps keeps track of time,” has been stuck in my head all week. The packaging that comes with the CD is great and it includes a full-color, sixteen-page booklet with interesting collages behind handwritten lyrics. There’s also a black and white photo of the band on the back cover, and they’re all cute as hell. The aforementioned “Keeps Track of Time” and a track called “Highway Song” are the best efforts on this CD. I wasn’t really into the rest of the album because of the vocals, which are kind of low and warbling (think high schoolers trying to sing like Danzig). The vocalists really ought to stick to screaming, because those songs are where they do sound great. –Lauren Trout (It's Alive)

Distortion and Death Demo: CD
A great four-song demo from a band that reminds me heavily of Poison Idea with hints of Caustic Christ with a d-beat edge. Gruff vocals over a Motörhead-like guitar sound. I really like the live sound of the recording. The drums sound fantastic, as I can almost picture the bashing going down. Really feels like I am almost there and having my teeth a good kicking in. Glad they went the demo route as opposed to releasing vinyl, but this would have been worthy enough for that kind of release. –Donofthedead (Fucked For Life)

Another Round: CD

Well, Timbecile and, um, Ace Facial and the boys are at it again—Dirty Filthy Mugs had a recent EP blasted in these pages, and it looks like we’re in for another six songs of Dropkick Murphys-styled punk/Celtic noodlings. Competent music with all the usual lyrical trappings: fucking (they are self-proclaimed “cocksmen” after all), fighting, and drinking. Proclamations from the vocalist about fisticuffs and how various women “give him the horn” and how he’s finally got a good woman “under his thumb” doesn’t exactly lend an air of new lyrical ground being tilled, but I guess it pretty much goes hand in hand with a genre like this. It’s too bad, too—the songs range from full-on barnstormers to some slower, squeezebox-laced songs that are all performed decently. Still, that doesn’t negate the fact that the songs sound like they were written by a bunch of eighth-grade d-bags.

–Keith Rosson (Brrapp)

999: CD
Looks like they’ve dropped the “666” off their name. What you have here is the most recent full-length by a band that has been around nigh on three decades now, once dropped in with the “UK82” crop of bands. They are ridiculously prolific—I believe there hasn’t been an issue in years where Razorcake hasn’t had something from these guys show up in the mail bin—and they’re more or less consistent in delivering tracks that are worth a listen at worst. This ‘un is a bit of a concept album, with all the songs addressing the police. The odd numbered tracks are originals, and the even tracks are covers of tunes originally put to good use by the likes of Dead Kennedys, DOA, 999, Girlschool, and The Filaments. While I’m surprised they didn’t cover Black Flag’s “Police Story,” which I figure would’ve been sonically more up their alley than, say, “Nasty Nasty,” they do, turn in, serviceable versions and the originals show wit and are catchy enough in their own right. –Jimmy Alvarado (destructors.co.uk)

Plain Language: Cassette
With two particularly high-pitched singers and poppy punk songs, Delay might not be for everyone. But I don’t buy it. It takes a couple listens for Plain Language to really sink it, but once it does, these songs stay stuck in your head. So much so, that multiple times I’ve had to literally go put something on my stereo because I’ve been singing one of these songs to myself all day. Thoughtful lyrics range from the love of girls, the love of friends, and a general concern about life, and it’s my favorite record of the year. –Guest Contributor (Self-Released, vinyl soon on Salinas)

Autowriter: 7"
“Autowriter” makes you feel like you’ve done something wrong. It makes you feel like you’ve just snuck up on somebody in the dark and slit their throat from behind. As you watch the blood form a puddle on the blacktop around your victim’s body, you think about what you’ve done. You smile. You feel hateful and happy. The air suddenly seems fresher as you pull it into your lungs. You know you’re sick, but you can’t help but turn up the volume. That’s Decapitado. –MP Johnson (Headless, decapitado.com)

Self-titled: 7"
Rather typical basement-show hardcore, if that makes sense. Song titles such as “Count Me Out” and “Streets of Rage” should give one an idea of the lyrical content and possibly even a hint of the musical stylings. I like this record, because I like basement-show hardcore, but this isn’t really much different from other bands that I lump into such a category. Imagine a slightly more melodic version of Born Against. –The Lord Kveldulfr (No Label Listed)

Dark Alleys: CD
Band members include: Rabies, Steel, Prowler, Spaceman, and Rattt The Animal. Yes, Rattt, like rat, but with an extra T as a tribute to the almighty SaTan and one more just for the fuck of it. What kind of music do you think they make? Their beautifully bastardized version of metal takes the gritty bits of Scandinavian hardcore, mixes in fist-pounding power metal guitar solos, and tops it all off with some rock‘n’roll swagger. The liner notes say it best: “Play it Loud—Come to the Dagger.” You’ll want to put this one on repeat. –MP Johnson (Deaf Forever, myspace.com/deafever) Deaf Forever, myspace.com/deafever) Deaf Forever, myspace.com/deafever)

Self-titled: EP
Former members of Life Crisis and Chickenfarm join forces and crank out some blazing, no-frills hardcore punk. “Que Instersante” is a scorcher. The tempo comes down fast and hard and constant, and the vocal delivery is spot on. Albert sounds pissed and unhinged. The first song on the B side, “El Masturbador,” sounds like a grind band has taken over. But it’s not bad actually, and they redeem themselves with “Sounded Like a Good Idea” and “Saddam Is Dead.” Great lyrics as well; some sarcasm mixed in with the commentary—what any punk band worth a damn is good at. Glad to see these guys get some vinyl out. I’m hoping there’s more soon. Great live band as well. –Matt Average (Too Old To Die, adamcrisis@yahoo.com)

Dream Homes: CD / LP / bonus 7”
I preordered this album from No Idea, and they really made it a fantastic collector’s item. Not only did I get the CD, but also the colored 12” vinyl, a piece of badass screened art, and a bonus 7”. As if the music alone wasn’t going to satisfy me! And it does. Oh, yes, it does. The guys in this band seem to have listened to a lot of the same shit I did when I was a teenager: the Ramones, The Vindictives, The Queers, Grimple—right? And then, get this, these guys played in the bands I loved after I was no longer a teenager: Rivethead, The Copyrights, House Boat, Off With Their Heads, and The Gateway District (there may be a few more, but, damn, was this a review or a name dropping sesh?)! Oh, and rumors of a split 7” with Toys That Kill? Count me in! –Mr. Z (No Idea)

Cut Down to Sighs: 7"
Clever DIY extremists, who I bet are just as excited about bands on Youth Attack as Plan-It-X, but lean more towards the Plan-It-X side of punk. Poppy and spiteful, with 40s full of vigor and ready to hit the road in a beat-up minivan. I can see them playing a show with bands like Delay or Ringers and possibly covering a Cleveland Bound Death Sentence song. Not bad, but I bet it’s gonna get a whole lot better. –Daryl Gussin (Dead Uncles)

Greetings from Japan: 7"
I love Japanese punk rock. They do the world’s music perfectly, but make it their own and sometimes do it even better than anyone else. The Dazes sound like Puffy Ami Yummy minus the power pop and add the underground sensibilities of Buck and a few surfin’ to the oldies guitar and bass solos. They definitely deliver super duper catchy music and have an especially super yummy harmony section in their song, “Heart on My Bumper.” While the Wimpys might not be yummy, their singer’s name is Yummy, so that makes it all good, right? Their first track is a total Beach Boys style ditty, and their second song a Ramones cover. Good schtuff. –Mr. Z (It's Alive)

Man Made Dust: CD
This is a little complicated, so follow me. This band, Cut The Reins, reminds me of this band from around L.A. called Onewordsolution, who, in turn, reminded me a lot of Pennywise. But, Cut The Reins is from Ireland and not SoCal. The basic sound of the album is speedy punk in the mid-late ‘90s Epitaph vein (i.e. Pennywise) but a tiny bit darker, and with a snare drum almost distractingly high in the mix for some reason. Lyrically, the band is pretty fuckin’ discontent. I think that’s where I draw the Onewordsolution comparison. The bands have their hearts in the right place, but both seem like they would benefit form a bit more subtlety in their lyrics. It’s not a matter of diluting the message so much as adding a bit more finesse and originality to their metaphors and word play. This is a decent, if not terribly memorable, album, but the band doesn’t quite snap yet. With some more creativity in their sound, they could be pretty awesome someday. –Adrian (Mikereins@rocketmail.com)

Join the Lepers: 7"
If Cartman from South Park created a punk band, then it would resemble what the tunes from Disco Lepers sound like on this split. Consider the content found herein with track titles: “Nazi Tampons” and “Epileptic Sex.” What’s even more astounding is the vocal shrill you’ll find coming from the record player. I wouldn’t be surprised if one day we found out that the members of the Disco Lepers were actually the voice actors for Cartman. On the other side of the split there are basically two worthwhile pop punk tunes from The Briefs… coughcough… umm… I mean Steve E. Nix of the Cute Lepers and with him posing as some other band thingy called The Lurching Leper. The tune “Death by Magazine” is actually a surprisingly snappy lo-fi number with a new wave feel minus the keyboards. One day I hope I can join the Leper Enterprise as some street-wise gangsta rapper ‘cause I think it’d be cool to add a Leper-Con to the Leper ranks. Until then, I’ll just hold my breath while I keep spinning this 7”. –N.L. Dewart (No Front Teeth)

Our World: LP
Man, these guys are so punk, it’s like they bootlegged themselves. In lieu of a label or any contact information whatsoever, the LP jacket just says, “No label. Do It Yourself.” However, a bit of internet snooping reveals that these dudes are Swedish and, upon repeated listens, shows that Our World is an LP of mostly mid-tempo, no-frills punk with more than a passing nod to their fellow countrymen, The Regulations, in sound if not necessarily aesthetic. Snotty and acerbic songs about hope, partying, hardcore, eschewing society’s standards, etc. Not the most cerebral lyrics, but that’s never really been the focal point of bands like this. The emphasis is on the attitude, that sneering punk swagger and ability to reconnect with a sound from yesteryear without ever flat-out aping it. It’s something so many European bands seem to excel at, this nod to the sonic venom of twenty or thirty years past while also updated and modifying it, keeping it fresh, and you can add Damage to that list. Pretty sweet album; just not sure how easy it’s gonna be to find. –Keith Rosson (No Address Listed)

Public Release: 7” EP
Noisy and disjointed punk sort of stuff. Kind of like a more out of whack Circus Lupus. The guitar feeds back, there’s a dismal droning bass line, and the drums are minimal. I’ve played this record many times trying to find something that’s memorable or interesting, and it’s impossible. The most memorable thing about this record is how forgettable it all is. –Matt Average (Eolian)

Split: CD
The early U.K. band The Destructors keep releasing new material as Destructors 666 and all of their output is well worth checking out. The distinct, heavily accented, growly vocals are impossible to replicate without stuffing potatoes in your mouth. I tried and couldn’t do it sans potato. The newer female-fronted Danger’s Close, also from the U.K., plays slow to mid-tempo 1980s punk ala A.P.P.L.E. and is an amusing retro treat. Both bands have a mid-to-late ‘80s crossover vibe brewing under the surface, but with lessons learned from that putrid, dark era. –Art Ettinger (Rowdy Farrago, destructors666.com)

Self-titled: 7” EP
These guys have the retro ‘60s sound so down pat that it’s fuggin’ scary. Shit, you could plop either disc here on the hi-fi when gramma’s not paying attention and she’d have no clue whatsoever this is a contemporary band. “Casi Las 3” on side B of the EP could easily be mistaken for an Os Mutantes outtake by anyone not hip to the diff between Spanish and Portuguese, “Sabes Que Quiero” sounds like they’ve been binging on old Standells records, and “Primera Muerta” reeks of teen tragedy tunes that ruled the charts before the kids discovered public sex and acid. These guys are seriously good, so good that if they manage to maintain the quality of their output, they’re bound to take the underground by storm. –Jimmy Alvarado (Douche Master, and HoZac, respectively, no address for either)

Primero Muerta: 7"
These guys have the retro ‘60s sound so down pat that it’s fuggin’ scary. Shit, you could plop either disc here on the hi-fi when gramma’s not paying attention and she’d have no clue whatsoever this is a contemporary band. “Casi Las 3” on side B of the EP could easily be mistaken for an Os Mutantes outtake by anyone not hip to the diff between Spanish and Portuguese, “Sabes Que Quiero” sounds like they’ve been binging on old Standells records, and “Primera Muerta” reeks of teen tragedy tunes that ruled the charts before the kids discovered public sex and acid. These guys are seriously good, so good that if they manage to maintain the quality of their output, they’re bound to take the underground by storm. –Jimmy Alvarado (Douche Master, and HoZac, respectively, no address for either)

No Regrets: CDEP
For all the thrash, grindcore, metal and such I see live, I honestly tend to really listen to more melodic punk more than anything when I’m alone. So, right off the bat when I pulled this out to listen for review, I remembered that I had something from this band. I checked my trusty music list and saw that I had copy of their LP Stella. That signified a good start, knowing I had liked them enough to keep one of their previous releases. I have a vague memory of what this band sounded like. I knew they were from the ‘90s during my melodicore phase. My memory was correct. Fast, melodic punk filled with hooks. I like that the recording is not overly produced and has a bright, live quality to it. The music reminds me of a mixture of the Beatnik Termites having a tea party with Snuff. Fun, energetic stuff! –Donofthedead (Crackle)

Figure 24I.—Single Abdominal Wound: CD-R
Musically, they fit firmly amongst the thrashy hardcore horde, with little in the way of metal influence in evidence. Lyrically, they lean towards the misanthropic/misogynistic side of things, with happy tunes about the human race being a disease, HPV, and fisting a girl after strangling her. –Jimmy Alvarado (Live Fast Die Drunk, no address)

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