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Record Reviews

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Demo: 7” EP
Blown-out, noisy hardcore punk that is all the rage this minute. Disgusti bring nothing new to the table, but I know more than a few people who will suck this stuff right up without question. Just because. But the truth is, you, dear reader, deserve better than this. Punk, overall, deserves better than this. Vocals recorded in an echo chamber, saying nothing much about nothing at all, the guitar sounds flat, the bass limp, and drums are like paper. They slaughter their cover of Void’s “Who Are You.” At least they make that their own as a result. Some bands can pull this style off with ease and add a little extra something. Disgusti is not one of them.  –Matt Average (High Fashion Industries)

Destroy the Chemistry: 7”
Two heretofore unreleased tracks from the recording session that resulted in their contribution to the legendary Tower 13 comp finally see the light of day, and man, it’s a crime it took this long. Both are primo thud-punk ragers that bore a hole into your noggin, pour the pop hooks directly into your brain, then grab your ears and shake vigorously. A couple more hits to add to this summer’s soundtrack.  –Jimmy Alvarado (Hostage)

All of the Wires: LP
You might remember the Dutch Masters from their 2004 Goner Records-released “Radio Active” single, and if you don’t, then you’re doing it wrong because that record was fucking killer. Comprised of four dudes who have been in some of the best garage punk rock’n’roll bands around in the last twenty years (Oblivians, The New Memphis Legs, Bad Times, The Royal Pendletons, The Cool Jerks), this record takes the three songs from that single, nine additional songs recorded at the same session, and two live tracks to comprise a full album’s worth of skuzzy yet really fucking catchy garage rock’n’roll. The songs are remarkably hooky while retaining a raw and sloppy quality—the perfect combination in my book. This is totally right up my alley and absolutely recommended for fans of sloppy, unpretentious garage rock.  –Mark Twistworthy (Spacecase)

Trailer Trash: 7”
I really don’t need to say much when it comes to the Dwarves. You either love them or hate them. I am definitely in the former camp. This single’s title track comes from the upcoming new full-length The Dwarves Invented Rock’n’Roll and it is classic Dwarves. I will drunkenly spout this off to anyone within earshot when the Dwarves are on the stereo. Blag Dahlia is a songwriting genius. There are very few vocalists out there who can turn a phrase quite like Blag and make it look so effortless. Catchy, rocking, filthy… It’s the goddamn Dwarves! Recognize!  –Ty Stranglehold (Recess)

Party Jail: LP
This duo go from sounding like a minimal version of slow, pretty, Gary Newman-type, early ‘80s-sounding stuff with a very distinct baritone vocal delivery one minute to the sound of a shrieking banshee with an unhealthy Lightning Bolt obsession the next. Sometimes it’s quirky and dancey, other times it’s harsh, but it’s pretty consistently good throughout. While it doesn’t necessarily sound like any of the bands on the roster, I could see this possibly appealing to fans of S.S. Records/A-Frames type post-punk jams as well. The record is most intriguing when the shrieking stops and the songs allow the sparseness to be part of the band. While this record is certainly not for everybody, I, on the other hand, just can’t get enough of it.  –Mark Twistworthy (Infinity Cat)

Rockamania #1: LP
The Cheats are one of the best, most active Pittsburgh bands, playing show after show, both locally and all over the place. They’re a well-studied mix of ‘77 punk and garage, making them a perfect candidate to share a split record with New Jersey garage veterans Electric Frankenstein. No skimping on the packaging here, which is downright gorgeous. Both bands have wide appeal and play mainline styles of punk, without pandering or posing of any kind. This split is definitely not to be missed.  –Art Ettinger (Screaming Crow)

Split: 7”
This is an official re-press of a split between two early ‘80s Italian hardcore punk bands. EU’s Arse are arguably the godfathers of the raw punk genre, that is d-beat punk delivered with hardcore fervor and minimal attention to recording quality. Their side of this split is one Discharge-inspired distort-attack after another with agonizingly deranged vocals. Of all the early ‘80s Italian punk/hardcore bands such as Indigesti, Wretched, and Peggio Punx, EU’s Arse are by far the most underrated. Impact is a treat for me as I was not aware of their existence prior to picking this record up. Their brand of chaos is more traditionally balanced with classic hardcore styles but still as raw and frenzied as their split-mates. Now that this split has been re-pressed in grand fashion with two separate covers and inserts printed for each band, it is imperative that you hunt down a copy of hardcore punk history.  –Juan Espinosa (Black Water)

Midnight Passenger: LP
Ex-Cult (formerly Sex Cult) has fulfilled all of their prerequisites and is prepared to graduate from Post-Punk 1A and move on to higher learning. Everything is here: overt Wire worship, staccato monotone vocals, droning beats, and reverb-sodden guitar licks. Neither tight enough to be totally throwback or original enough to be completely captivating, Ex-Cult, at this stage, is unable to get past the formulas and find a distinct sound. Each song bleeds into the next as the guitars reveal all of their tricks right out of the gate. By the time the B-side spins to a close, the anger is extinguished, giving way to tedium. It’s as if they’re constantly looking over their shoulders at their vinyl collection. The LP’s greatest impact is the surreal collage cover.  –Sean Arenas (Goner)

Ashes to Ashes: LP
Hot on the heels of the release of the 1985 Demo album comes this reissue of the band’s debut full length. Originally released by Pushead’s Pusmort label in 1987, this bad boy was/is a top-shelf example of a transitional period in L.A. hardcore where metal-suffused hardcore was rapidly becoming the order of the day. Though the metal is in full evidence, they nonetheless kept their output firmly in the hardcore camp, mixing wiggly guitar slinging withDehumanization-era Crucifix-inspired anarcho punk sensibilities and lyrical content, delivered at breakneck velocities. Included is a booklet coupling a reproduction of the original booklet with additional photos, testimonials, and remembrances. Nice look back at what is now, and rightly so, considered a classic of the genre.  –Jimmy Alvarado (Tankcrimes)

Scroggz Manor: CD
Scuffed-up garage rock fronted by a vocalist who switches easily between cocky crooning and blown-out shrieking (with a noted preference for the latter). “Garage” is about as worn-out and oversaturated as a genre prefix can get these days, but Fire Retarded do spice things up with some unorthodox deviations into weirdo psych rock riffage. Comparisons to The Reatards are inevitable—do you think the name’s a coincidence? This stuff is fast, frenzied, and dirty. –Indiana Laub (Big Neck)

Self-titled: 7”EP
On Smurf blue vinyl, this four piece out of Chicago flows in the vein of sticky summer night garage rock. Like FIDLAR without the pubescent boy band vocals, these cats scratch out four new songs. (A mislabeled track listing dictates I identify songs by number). First up, Ty Segall hooks and intestine-quivering yowls oughta loosen up your joints while the second cut leans into a Rolling Stones twang mocked up with Mick Jagger’s exaggerated Texas British accent. On the flip side, the third track coasts along on a simple verse, chorus, verse singalong and clean guitar solo. “Gimme a Night” takes up a Ramones gang harmonization and an easy, breezy surf structure. Promising Chi-Town garage. Here’s to hoping they prowl into town. Let the good times roll. Recommended.  –Kristen K. (Tall Pat)

Discografia/3Maxis: CD
As the title suggests, this is a discography featuring tunes from a Marseilles band that were previously on three other releases. The sound is essentially primal punk, somewhere in the netherworld between Regulations and the Briefs, meaning it’s catchy without getting too philosophical about it. The disc’s epic clocks in at a whopping two-and-a-half minutes, so yeah, they’re not gonna tax your ADD-addled attention spans.  –Jimmy Alvarado (Sad Punk Discos)

“The Hold” b/w “Teisco Telstar Stomp”: 7”
7” from Arizona power-poppers. Side A is a sweet little new wave number with high pitch male vocals, jangly guitars, and... is that an organ?! Side AA is more of a garage stomp and contains the questionable lyric, “If you want it nightly / I could times it by two.” Does that mean this guy is going to have sex with me twice in one night or that he has some sort of double dick? I’m confused, but I don’t care.  –Alanna Why (Snappy Little Numbers)

The League of Extraordinary Octopuses: LP
If anyone is in need of a musical tonic to add some pep to their step then look no further than Chicago’s The Fur Coats. I woke up on June 12th 2014 in a mysterious funk. Whilst watching my daughter at her swimming lesson that morning I put this album on my iPod and within ten minutes I became aware that my arms and legs were moving involuntarily—not exactly imperceptible to all, but there was some minor flailing going on. I suddenly realized that the music I was listening to was of the infectious power pop kind too impossible to ignore and that there was a clear sense of levity at its core. Immediately, the sun shone, birds sang, and I was smiling as I fully embraced the cheerful quality of The Fur Coats, all of which was topped off with lyrics that were humorous rather than outright funny—always a longer lasting trait in my book. I thank The Fur Coats for giving me back June 12th 2014.  –Rich Cocksedge (Dirt Cult / Artistic Integrity)

Partial Traces: 12” EP
Gateway District features ex-/current members of The Soviettes, Dear Landlord, Banner Pilot and Rivethead (listening yet?), but this isn’t blitzing punk or sugary power pop. Instead, their mid-tempo melodies rage with reserved exactitude and scratch at my mind’s door like a hungry cat. I open the screen and let the feline saunter in. Her whiskers and soft body rub against my legs. This is a pleasant, yet confident, guest. Gateway District is like that. The choruses are robust and reassuring as if each lyric is sung just for you, as if this cat never begs at any other door, while the music is succinct with palm-muted guitars and precise bass lines that are dense with harmonies. Every song is independent, wandering house to house for something to eat, never relying on tricks or flashy hooks to trick you into paying attention. Eventually, these strays come together and assemble into five tuneful gems that are good company. If you aren’t a fan of Gateway District, this record just might lure you in with its fierce Maine Coon eyes. –Sean Arenas (Salinas)

When Things Get Ugly: CD
No matter who you are, thirty-four years is a helluva long time to go between albums. Add the fact that your last album lo those many moons ago, in this case their debut, was a bona fide fuggin’ punk classic and you’re staring down the barrel at some Hindenburg-level disastrous shit. Luckily, we’re talking about the Gears, a band that have stayed relatively active over the past few decades, their one-upping the Dickies’ lag time between albums notwithstanding. Those looking for something as mind-shatteringly life changing asRockin’ at Ground Zeromight be a wee bit disappointed, but the rest of us punters looking for a really good (Northeast) Los Angeles punk album will be more than satisfied. Their core sound is still very much in evidence, as are their little toe-dips into rockabilly and other outside genres, but they’ve added a bit more country twang and other colors that occasionally recall the efforts of sister band the D.I.’s, which nonetheless fit right in with the Ramones-addled anthems they apparently can still toss out like hot chicks flinging Mardi Gras baubles. Disaster easily averted. This bad boy rocks. –Jimmy Alvarado (Wondercap)

Garrote Guarantee: 7”
It’s a really cool feeling when you know a couple of dudes who do what they do and they do it well, then all of a sudden, they are doing something together and it’s really cool and manages to not sound like a version of the things that they are each known for individually… It’s its own awesome beast. That is Ghost Knife to me. The first time I heard them it was live and it was great (but let’s be honest, I was most likely at a minimum ¾ of the way to wasted), next came the amazing Kill Shelter, Yes CD and I realized just how great this band is. The disc got a lot of rotation around here. Now, here we are with a brand spanking new 7” and wouldn’t you know it, they just keep getting better. I should have bought two, because I’m going to wear my copy out! Let’s not wait so long between releases next time, guys!  –Ty Stranglehold (Twistworthy)

Primitive World: 7”
Now this is a goddamn record! Hilarious, heart-wrenching and way out West home-fi recordings. “Nobody Likes You” has such a powerful hook it almost brought tears to my eyes. Some square might listen to “Studio Time” and ask, “What’s wrong with Giorgio Murderer?” Oh, my friend, there’s nothing wrong with Giorgio. It’s the world that’s wrong.  –Sal Lucci (Goner)

Let’s Not Be Friends: LP
Not to be confused with the early 2000s Pacific Northwest band of similar but punctuation-free nomenclature, these Girls! are a Columbus sexy-tet—four-sixths of which are guys with beards and one-third of which are actual girls ((bereft of beards to all appearances)). Their music can be lazily described as “power pop,” but not of the stripped-down, kick-up-your-heels Nikki & The Corvettes meal plan—they’ve got a little bit more of a full-figured, breathy attack, with the usual guitar/bass/drum suspects awash in a swirl of Benmont Tench-like organ and such. Adding further evidence to the fleshed-out-ness of the band’s sound, only one of the album’s eleven songs clocks in at less than three-and-a-half minutes, whilst five eclipse the psychologically important four-minute mark ((important to whom, I am uncertain)). Song topics tend to hover around ex-boyfriends and drinking, as all the great ones do. Anyway, I put this album on at the tail end of a long night of getting wasted and listening to records, and enjoyed the first ten songs to reasonable extent. Then, just about the time when I was ready to brush my teeth and call it a night, “Sophomore” comes on. HOLY FUCK. Holy fucking fuck. Holy fucking fuckity fuck. Now THAT, my friends, is a SONG. If this song isn’t in commercials and teen angst movies and on TV shows and at least as well-known as “Johnny Are You Queer?” by Josie Cotton in a few years, then there is something horribly, terribly, insanely wrong with this world ((well, either that or the band fucked up and called a song that everyone is gonna think is called “Girl Parts” “Sophomore” instead)). I played it like twenty times in a row before I actually managed to get the needle off the record and pour myself into the sack. This song has reduced my critical faculties to the equivalent of a small plate of scrambled eggs! By necessity this concludes the review. BEST SONG: What the fuck do you think? “Sophomore!” BEST SONG TITLE: “Let’s Get Weird.” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: Exploding Hearts song title “Sleeping Aides and Razorblades” is etched into the run-off grooves on both sides of the record, leading me to wonder if it shouldn’t have been “Aids” and not “Aides” in the first place.  –Rev. Norb (Self-released)

Self-titled: Cassette
This five-song cassette from the new Buffalo-based tape label More Power is a bit mysterious, from the cryptic packaging on down. I believe the band is from somewhere in Pennsylvania near the Poconos. If The Briefs had more lo-fi recordings, they’d sound a lot like Glamour Girls. There’s nothing to dislike about these tracks, and there’s definitely something nifty about a secretive tape release. Tapes are coming back, but you’ll know it’s a real movement when cars start being manufactured with tape decks again. Now that would be fucking glamorous.  –Art Ettinger (More Power Tapes)

Nail House Rock: CD
My aversion to two-member bands has been well documented, and this doesn’t change that root opinion, but while the finished product does lack fullness, they do serve up a mix of rock and punk that is nonetheless fresh and tasty enough that one forgets this is a two-member band. They keep things mid-tempo and straightforward delivery-wise throughout, recalling the better moments of early OC punk without relying too much on directly traceable influences. Good stuff.  –Jimmy Alvarado (Go Die)

The Maker: CD
I can’t tell if I am “supposed” to be familiar with this band, but I noticed online that they have a lot of releases and play as if they already belong, like they and the listener are old friends. I felt as if, by listening to this album, I was peeking through the hole in an old barn door and watching the meeting of a secret society. There is an already-present ear that The Goddamn Gallows are looking to connect. They are part psychobilly and part folk punk. They are part growling, bitter Hell-bound sinner and part set-free, dancing-in-the-aisles, crazy Pentecostal uncle. I could imagine these songs being influenced by David Eugene Edwards of 16 Horsepower and Woven Hand, or Daniel Higgs of Lungfish. Some of the imagery and lyrics sound as if they were written on an ascetic retreat into the desert.  –John Mule (Farmageddon)

Far from the Callous Crowd: LP/CD
Sometimes it doesn’t take long for a record to make an impact. That was certainly the case for me here. “False Dawn” kick starts Far From the Callous Crowdinto life with a thunderous rumble as Grand Collapse’s debut album attempts to blow cobwebs away and clean out sinuses, relying heavily on a metallic six string thrust to back a weighty political punch. The galloping power of this band comes primarily through the guitar and drums, which work perfectly in tandem to keep the riveting pace up for almost the entirety of the record. Cal Sewell’s hoarse vocals are spot on in terms of matching the intensity of the music and provide a gritty outlet for lyrics formed from rage and a need to not give in. The final plus point is that the eleven tracks flow well without blending into each other as some hardcore records do, thus helping make this one of my favorite records of the year.  –Rich Cocksedge (1859 / Pumpkin / Static Shock)

Split: Cassette
All squares, make like a tree. This split shores up two psychedelic, garage outfits out of Massachusetts with five tracks a piece. First up, Greasy Whistles, comprised of past members of The Maine Coons and Closet Fairies, serve up lo-fi power punk. The recording quality could use an overhaul, leaving the vocals on the first three tracks sounding as if they were streaming through a soup can telephone. But don’t let that break you. “Incandescent Lights,” “ManCave,” and “Smudge Your Makeup” tool nasally choruses sang ad infinitum that ought to stoke the flames for a new generation of reefer madness. Once the recording gets upgraded, these cats should be sittin’ pretty. On the B Side, The Little Richards goose step it wild-eyed, taking the base elements of pop punk and running with it. Now I’m still mourning the loss of Tommy Ramone. I’m still getting used to the idea that the original Ramones lineup is dead and buried when all of The Rolling Stones (save for Brian Jones) are still shuffling their boney carcasses around the globe. Now I’m not going to say something as stupid or as trite as, “The Little Richards are the next Ramones” because there will never ever be another Ramones. But their energy is reminiscent of the moppy-haired boys who practically trademarked skinny jeans and leather jackets. Building on their demos of simple 1-2-3-4 power chords and rhyming lyrics fueled by LSD and girls, these new tracks experiment with different time signatures and rapid fire “m-m-m-my”s on “My Mouth,” instead of the dreamy “oh, oh, ohho”s of songs past. “Caffeine Fiend” is a teeth-grinding love letter to the most loveable legal substance, while “420 Girl” and “Reefer Sadness” show off the boys’ charming songwriting humor. Tight, fun, hilarious rock’n’roll. Recommended.  –Kristen K. (Dead Broke)

Rich Man Poor Man: 7”
The ‘90s are back! Not the tight rolled-B.U.M. Equipment-Hypercolor bib-overall-jean shorts ‘90s, we’re talking some Docs-shorts over the thermals—fuck it, I might just wear two flannels at one time ‘90s. Grungy, distorted female vocals. Crunchy, chewy, stonerific guitars. This shit takes me back to a bygone era. Four tasty little nuggets from this Rochester, NY three-piece. A real substantial snack.  –Jackie Rusted (Cherish)

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