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One Punks Guide to Pinball, by Kayla Greet
Razorcake #92
Spokenest, Gone, Gone, Gone LP
Pinned In Place, Ghostwritten By LP
Razorcake #91


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No Idea Records

Record Reviews

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Below are some recently posted reviews.

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MICHAEL RAULT:
Living Daylight: CD
Canadian artist Micheal Rault has nailed that rock’n’soul sound. It’s like if No Bunny made a record with James Brown, but on Quaaludes. In a similar vein of bands like T. Rex, Rault plays this mix of psych and garage—with tons of pedals and fuzz—while still coloring outside the lines. It’s maybe more of a “gum shoe gaze” in the sense that he’s imploring experimental rock. This is the first time I’ve reviewed an album that has also been discussed by Pitchfork and Spin, which is weird to me. Not quite on that major label tip yet, but it sounds like the suits are listening. I could easily see this being the soundtrack to the next Juno-type indie film that blows up.  –Kayla Greet (Burger, burgerrecords.com)


MICROBES / FRIGHT EYE:
Split: 7”
Microbes’ side of this split single is lo-fi, noisy trash punk with shouted vocals. Something along the lines of Floridas Dying or HoZac. Fright Eye’s side is a little bit punker, veering towards the later years of Rip Off Records type stuff.  –frame (Halshugga, halshuggarecords.tictail.com)


MIKE HUDSON AND THE PAGANS:
Hollywood High: LP
Pagans vocalist Mike Hudson returns with an all-new lineup and a slightly modified band moniker. They deliver a full-length’s worth of roll-in-the-dirt punk, gritty blues, and rock’n’roll layered with a coat of grime to seal in all the nasty goodness. These “let’s revisit the old days” efforts are a dicey affair, but this one delivers the goods. –jimmy (Ruin Discos, ruindiscos.com)


MINNEAPOLIS URANIUM CLUB BAND, THE:
Human Exploration: LP
Hopefully I have this band’s name and album title correct; there was a note saying the record labels are wrong and the artwork has a lot propaganda-style text so I was a bit confused. I had to grab the record and flip it over right after I put it on to see if the first song was saying “Black semen.” Yep, the first song is called “Black Semen.” These guys have a spazzy, lo-fi, garage rock, CBGB’s sound going on. All the songs sound like they were recorded live to tape with no effect. Check this out if you’re into art punk. –Ryan Nichols (Fashionable Idiots Records, no address listed)


MONS, THE:
Self-titled: LP
Fuck, I really want to like this. Everything about the music is great. Kind of poppy but with plenty of balls. Good songs with good melodies, hooks, tons of energy, and interesting song structures. In some spots it gives me a Marked Men Ghostsfeeling, in others an Adverts vibe, all drenched in that thick Midwest punk sauce (they are from Chicago after all). But no matter how hard I try, I can’t get past the vocals. They just grate on my ears in a way that I can’t ignore. A lot like the Thermals, a band that friends fucking loved but I couldn’t stand for even one song, solely because the vocals sounded like fingernails on a blackboard to my ears. The Mons’ singer doesn’t grate quite that much, but it’s in the same vein. Anyway, I have a feeling most of you Razorcakers will love this, as you should. They even got Pettibon to do the cover art! Maybe someone can help fix my ears.  –Chad Williams (Self-released, themons.bandcamp.com)


MOTH:
First Second: LP
Serviceable but uninspiring goth from some people in Denmark. I like my goth dark and ethereal. Whatcha get here is, for the most part, tepid. Songs that don’t really go anywhere and don’t try to get where they might be going with much energy. Lyrics are typical goth stuff—death, sorrow, and whatnot. The one exception to the rest of the record is “Shrapnel,” which shows a bit of energy. However, that one song ain’t enough to get over the mellowness of most of the record, the straight-up new wave goth track on here, and the track that sounds like they should be paying royalties to Bauhaus. In the end, this one is pretty forgettable and uninspired. –Vincent Battilana (Mass Media)


MOTÖRHEAD:
Bad Magic: CD/LP
Motörhead’s three thousandth albumBad Magicis one of their best, at least in recent memory. The band’s been around for forty years, and has had their current lineup since 1992. Lemmy is sixty-nine and still going, which is amazing when you consider most sixty-nine-year-old people are gliding comfortably into retirement. His gravelly, gruff vocals sound a little weak compared to past albums—which can be partially explained in that he’s had some health problems recently—but in some regards it gives the songs some differentiation to past albums. Not every song sounds the same, although some critics complain that Motörhead’s albums are redundant. There are some anthemic tunes amongst these thirteen songs including “Fire Storm Hotel” and “Tell Me Who to Kill.” A nice bluesy number “Till the End” makes for some diversity of sound and the closer, a cover of The Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil,” has some serious muscle. Bad Magic still sounds like Motörhead, but there’s some urgency in the sound. Maybe there’s not much left in the Motörhead gas tank—but as Lemmy sings on the opening track, “Victory or Die!”—this is certainly one for the victory column.  –kurt (UDR)


MR. CLIT AND THE PINK CIGARETTES:
Wet-Willy: 10”
Sounds like a slightly more frantic version of the Statics with aspirations of purveying the divine sassiness of Cudzoo & The Faggettes or something. Songs like “That’s Just Gross” and “What’s Inside Your Lunchbox?” seem to extend the promise of something primal and squishy but fail to deliver on their bountiful potential. On occasion, I get a whiff of the Fiends We Have Come for Your Beer album, but mostly I just sit around waiting to be sent into orbit in some way, shape, or form and then open my eyes and the record is done and I’m still sitting in a pile of dirty socks. Not bad, but not exceptional, and the dark gods of the sky blue pink demand exceptionalness. You have been warned! BEST SONG: “Attack of the Bumblebees” BEST SONG TITLE: “That’s Just Gross” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: Yeah, I don’t know who puts a hyphen in “wet willy” either. –norb (Heel Turn, heelturnrecords.com)


NASTY DILEMMA:
One Big Hit and Three Small Hits: CS
This is lo-fi music with dreamy guitars and the haunting echo of a female voice. It’s perfect for lying on the kitchen floor in the dark while the ceiling spins like a disco ball. No complaints at all. I fucking dig it.  –John Mule (Self-released)


NATE ALLEN & THE PAC-AWAY DOTS:
Take out the Trash: LP
Traveling troubadour Nate Allen is better known as one half of the uplifting, neon-hued folk punk duo Destroy Nate Allen. Backed by his sometimes-band The Pac-Away Dots, Take out the Trash is his first solo effort since 2006. Its ten stripped-down tracks marry his authenticity-over-polish musical sensibility with introspective, socially aware lyrics that pack an emotional wallop without sacrificing his trademark sense of fun. Tracks like “Hunger Pains” and “We Don’t Even Know” challenge listeners to reevaluate their privilege and preconceptions while boasting gang vocals and chord progressions reminiscent of the “kids songs for adults” vibe made famous by Destroy Nate Allen. With plenty of raucous barnburners (“More Money”), quiet and evocative soul-searching (“Photograph”), and even some uncharacteristic darkness (“Goodbye Letter”), Take out the Trash is an eclectic and cathartic must-have. –Kelley O’Death (Self-released, iamnateallen.com)


NERVE BEATS:
Art History 1+2: 7”
It was a Saturday night this past fall and I was jobless, new to Austin, Texas. I had a job and a paycheck on the horizon, but nothing was guaranteed. The “fun money” I saved was limited and I was trying not to be too reckless with it. Friends convinced me to go out, because why not? The show was mostly local bands but Nerve Beats, a mysterious power trio from Honolulu (I had no idea there were punk bands there) were on a larger tour of the greater forty-eight states. The Nerve Beats were added to the bill last minute. I am glad I decided to go out that night, as Nerve Beats made my night. They moved me in a way I haven’t been moved by a strange band in a long time. I wasn’t the only one at the show who thought so. I was so hyped about the set that I had to buy their record. The Art History 1+2 7” appears to be self-released and is housed only in a white record sleeve. Nerve Beats had the same feel and power of The Minutemen—and even talked about having to be “econo” on their tour—since booking a tour from Honolulu is apparently as difficult and expensive as booking an international tour. Hopefully on their next swing through these parts, I’ll know more about them and word of mouth will spread so more people will check out the show. Although I’m old and cranky, this is the kind of show that takes me way back to a time when it seemed like on any given night I could be blown away by some strange no-name band. But that doesn’t have to be in the past, when I was younger, or more naïve, or whatever. It can still happen, and does, when I least expect it.  –Sal Lucci (Self-released, nervebeats.bandcamp.com)


NERVOSAS:
Self-titled: LP
Spooky and so cold as to feel sterile at times, Nervosas seems to be stomping around in the same frozen, bleak tundra as the Estranged, Warsong, and Lost Tribe. Nicely searing guitar lines and sung, reverb-touched vocals, the band has a propensity for the dramatic that almost becomes too much—they veer dangerously close to gothy, operatic self-parody at times but never quite get there —and the end result is a dark, lurching slalom of a record. As this is my introduction to the band, I’m not entirely sure what the frenzy is all about; it’s a solid record, but maybe not quite the jaw-dropper I was led to expect. Still, there’s no discounting the fact that the band has atmosphere and aesthetic in spades.  –keith (Dirtnap)


NERVOUS TALK:
Self-titled: LP
Canada has a long history when it comes to pop punk (a term I use begrudgingly, but I can’t think of a better one right now). From Teenage Head and the Pointed Sticks to Bum and Chixdiggit! to Steve Adamyk Band and Needles//Pins, we have a lot of amazing bands who kneel at the altar of the Ramones. Now we can add another to that legendary list: Vancouver’s Nervous Talk. These songs are so fucking good! The hooks stick in your brain like bubble gum in your hair the first time you tried to talk to someone you were attracted to. It blows my mind that something this special is a young band’s debut full-length album. I’ve seen them play three times now and can’t wait for more! –ty (Hosehead, hoseheadrecords.ca)


NEW SWEARS:
Junkfood Forever, Bedtime Whatever: LP
Harmless, neon hat-wearing, party boy punk shit. Honestly, I’d like to just have that sentence as New Swears Junkfood Forever, Bedtime Whatever full review. But that would be lazy. Honest, but lazy. They have some downright terrific melodies and the musical chops to really crank out some sweet, catchy punk, but it lacks lyrically. Some lazy dumbass lyrics about “lines on the road/ lines up my nose/ prostitute’s the only pussy I know.” Still, Junkfood Forever, Bedtime Whatever is a sassy, xylophone-chiming, “whoo-ooo” laden mix of Strokes, White Fang, Memories, and Vampire Weekend jam out. It’s upbeat and utterly harmless; no fists were thrown and no minds to be blown. LP cover art is a bunch of half-naked, sleep-deprived, k-hole-lovin’ party boys rife with what looks like the contents of my college pad’s garbage can strewed upon their bodies. *Shrugs shoulders.*  –Camylle Reynolds (Dirt Cult)


NIGHT BIRDS:
Mutiny at Muscle Beach: LP
There is a certain satisfaction of getting into a great band near the beginning. It doesn’t seem like it was almost five years ago that I picked up Night Birds’ second 7” on a whim because I was going to be seeing them at Chaos in Tejas. Looking back, it was a life-changing moment that was solidified by seeing them play at said fest, meeting them, and finding them to be great people. More 7”s followed, as did two LPs, each of which managing the near-impossible task of being better than the previous record. A lot of touring and non-stop buzz has brought them to one of the biggest punk labels for this, their third LP. Just like the last album welcomed new guitarist PJ into the fold, this album is the debut for new drummer Darick, who fits in perfectly. My expectations for this album were incredibly high. I have become a Night Birds fanatic. Somehow, if this wasn’t better than Born to Die in Suburbia, I was going to be let down. Is that ridiculous? Because Night Birds have stepped the game up again! This record is pure insanity! Everything I have come to expect from these guys is sprinkled with a manic delirium (that can most likely be attributed to singer Brian becoming a new dad) that sends these songs over the top. To sum it up, Night Birds play hardcore punk rock that is tailor-made for me—intense and catchy songs with no sign of metal in the mix. The lyrics tell strange stories that are perfectly encapsulated in a minute-and-a-half to two-minute servings. Oh yes, of course the surf guitar is there, too. My fourteen-year-old self would have never believed that I would discover one of my all-time favorite bands when I was in my late thirties. I will be waiting patiently for their even better next album. In the meantime I will see them play every damn chance I get. –ty (Fat Wreck, mailbag@fatwreck.com, fatwreck.com)


NIGHT BIRDS:
Mutiny at Muscle Beach: LP/CD
This record fucking rules! That is what I want to shout from the rooftops until my voice goes hoarse. If making punk music was a competitive sport then the release of Mutiny at Muscle Beach would leave the majority of other bands rolling on the floor, sobbing with envy. Yes, it’s that good. This album offers a barnstorming display of punk rock invigorated by a seemingly endless source of energy. The group hasn’t changed its delivery one iota, with songs remaining short and sharp, the guitar busying itself frantically throughout and Brian Gorsegner’s vocals continuing to be direct and in your face. The record is, however, boosted by the first time use of a producer, which has resulted in a more intense sound without sacrificing the band’s edginess. This is an instant punk rock classic. Forget genres, influences, and comparisons, just bask in the greatness that is Night Birds.  –Rich Cocksedge (Fat Wreck, mailbag@fatwreck.com, fatwreck.com)


NO FUN:
How I Spent My Bummer Vacation: CD
No Fun are something completely unto their own. Opening up with a dirgey, bluesy number, they quickly shift gears into super catchy, jangly punk rock with very strong female vocals. At times they remind me of the Lunachicks (a band I love), but they’ve definitely got their own thing going on. Oh, they’re German, too (I have a long-time affection for German bands). If all of this wasn’t enough, they have songs dedicated to pizza and alcohol. I am in love. –ty (Asset)


NO PROBLEM:
Kid Killer: 7” EP
The opener “Killing Game” is a potent, mid-tempo pit-stomper with a recurring guitar lead that bores into yer noggin and refuses to leave. The remaining two tunes keep the tempos reined in, with the delivery seething and deceptively direct. Pay attention and you’ll find the instrumentation a bit more layered than apparent at first blush. The previous couple of releases I’ve come across were hellafied good and this easily holds its own against ‘em. Hell, I’d venture that it’s even better. Kudos to ‘em.  –jimmy (Deranged)


NO WEATHER TALKS:
Undoing Defeat: LP
Not chilled and distanced cold wave stuff (which was honestly more in line with what I was expecting from the cover), Undoing Defeat instead just kinda sits there. You know? One of thoserecords. It’s kinda clean, kinda punk-lite stuff. Kinda also entirely void of hooks. It’s not irritating. Not particularly remarkable either. Fifth Hour Heromiiight be a reasonable comparison. A handful of songs that just move smoothly along, uninterrupted, not bothering anybody. Pretty, nicely sung female vocals over music that—instead of sounding feral—sounds drugged into complacency, sapped of energy. Competent enough, but man, just entirely barbless.  –keith (No Idea)


NO:
The Crash: 7” single
Wow, this is bad. Bargain basement poppy rock’n’roll doo-doo drip. Musically these guys are competent, but this music has no sense of spontaneity or any real fire in it. The flipside, “Big Surprise” with its “rocking” bridge captures all that’s bad about this—overblown, too slick, and ultimately, just not good.  –Matt Average (Savage Era, nouniverse.com)


NOGOODS:
Lets Be Friends: CS
Fuzzed-out, sped-up garage punk à la Jay Reatard. Starts off loud and never lets up, my favorite attribute. For eight songs, this is almost pitch-perfect for a band that’s never released anything before. Catchy, dirty, and loud. This one’s worth pulling out your old boombox to bring with you to the skate park. Jam some Nogoods while flipping some gnarly shreds and you’re bound to have a good time. Grade: A-. –Bryan Static (Shake!, experienceshake.com)


NOON 30:
Finding Release: EP
I know absolutely nothing about the kind of indie-rock/electronic-pop/trip-hop stuff that Noon 30 are doing here, but to my old ears, the majority of this sounds like a more fucked-up version of Björk to me. The one exception is the standout tune “Rodeo,” which is an obscenity-laced hard rap song in a Nicki Minaj kind of way that ends up being the above and beyond winner out of the batch of four original songs included.  –Mark Twistworthy (HHBTM, hhbtm.com)


NOT TONIGHT AND THE HEADACHES:
If You Were Real You’d Do Your Own Stunts: CD
More pop punk from this U.K. band residing in the unfashionable outpost of Grimsby. Whereas the band’s debut album was an effervescent collection of songs, this sophomore release reins in some of that vibrancy in favor of a slightly more measured approach. It frequently reminds me of Bracket and Bum, with the latter comparison coming as no surprise given that a couple of members of that group help out on one track here. The combination of upbeat and mid-tempo songs works well, creating an enjoyable listen.  –Rich Cocksedge (Boss Tuneage, bosstuneage.com)


NOTHING OF MERIT:
American Blast: 7”EP
The back cover of self-described “old school punk rock band” Nothing Of Merit’s American Blast implores the listener to “PLAY THIS RECORD LOUD.” This is less of a suggestion and more of a necessity, as the production is raw and lo-fi as fuck. With four songs clocking in at justover five minutes, this wee blast of volume shouldn’t be too much to handle. The low resolution album art is… let’s call it understated, but when paired with the band’s name and their charming labeling of the record’s “side whatever” and “side whatever2” their seemingly low expectations of themselves are rather endearing. There is an audible sense of fun permeating the release, and saxophone elevates the proceedings on “Maverick,” “Cryogenically Frozen,” and the Sonic Youth tribute, “SY… a Tribute,” but this short effort is more of a confection than a meal. It ultimately leaves you hungry.  –Kelley O’Death (Reason For Resistance)


NOTS:
“Virgin Mary” b/w “Shelf Life”: 7”
Third 7” from my current favorite Memphis punk/post-punkers. Or at least I think it’s Nots’ third; there is a number “3” on both the front and back cover. I wish had better words to describe the Nots’ sound and my love for the band. They sound like a Goner Records band—and I say that as a compliment, being a huge Goner fan and as someone who buys most Goner releases just because Goner releases them. My only complaint is that “Virgin Mary” is so short. It’s a good song, but I’m often hesitant to buy two-song 7”s as it is. Wish they would have thrown another tune on the record, but Nots are one of those few bands that force me to buy two-song 7”s. Nots are best experienced live, so catch ‘em if they come through your town. –Sal Lucci (Goner)


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