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No Idea Records

Record Reviews

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Split: 7"
"Mad About You" by King Rocker is a fairly undecorated stomp in the "Pipeline"/"Police Truck" type vein (avec le wah-wah), but "Invincible" is a work of sheerest genius, recalling the Ramones' "Highest Trails Above" in its evocation of "today-i-am-a-superhero" imagery, and which, in my Odin-like omniscience, i have decided sounds like 2nd LP Generation X (note: i had this thought before consciously connecting it with where the band got their name) (which would be "from a song on the second Generation X album" for those of you who are context or record collection challenged) doing a Supernova cover of the "Beat on the Brat" rip-off variety (i.e., "Gumfighter"), but with Leonard Graves Phillips orchestrating the chorus (the chorus harmonies are very highly latter-day-Dickiesian in nature, but on a budget, and applied to a not-particularly-inherently-Dickiesian passage ["I WILL NOT DIE... I WILL NOT DIE!"]), followed immediately by dual-guitar interplay whereby left-channel guitar offers a superficially Screeching Weaselistic lead countered simultaneously by right-channel guitar playing a more traditional power-pop type lead. Which is, i'm sure, exactly what you're looking for in a record. Black Monday fare worse: "Save Me" is almost some manner of country-core (that is, old-school hc beat w/neo-polka bassline yielding general feel of country two-step run punk rock amok) ditty that has whatever good points it may have racked up obliterated on account of the drummer speeds up every time he gets to the chorus; "The Same" is merely generic pop-punk of the variety where almost every chord gets played for exactly four measures before changing – my least favorite permutation of the genre, ever. Mr. Idol, who do you feel is the clear winner in this Battle Of The Bands? Billy Idol: "King Rocker...King Rocker... ROCK ROCK ROCK! King Kong! King Kong! King Kong! KING KONG!!!" BEST SONG: King Rocker, "Invincible" BEST SONG TITLE: King Rocker, "Mad About You" FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: My copy is 631/1000, and the sleeves appear to be silkscreened on the same kinda cardboard they make shoeboxes outta. –Rev. Norb (Split Seven)

Carnaval de Carne: CD
Noisy metal. Not bad, but not particularly interesting, either. It is noisy, though, and I guess that can be construed as a good thing. –Jimmy Alvarado (Crucial Blast)

We Know You Suck: CD
Like the best works of art and literature, from Milton to Dante to Bosch to Grunewald, the records of some bands just deserve to be perpetually available so future generations can readily get their hands on them and glean some influence when the need arises. Case in point this disc here, which contains some of the most influential and exemplary music ever produced by a hardcore punk band. Collected for your listening pleasure are the tracks from the Blatant Localism EP, the Valley of the Yakes 12”, damn near every track that appeared on a compilation (conspicuously absent are the versions of “Guess What” and “Middle America” from the Sudden Death and We Got Power comps, respectively), and an unreleased gem here and there. What makes them so damn special, you ask? Well, let’s not touch upon the fact that they almost single-handedly dragged the whole skatepunk out of the dark corners of the scene and into the limelight. Let’s put aside that they managed to come up with a sound wholly original and singular in a subgenre that was, at the time, up to its eyeballs in stagnant, hypocritical dogma and monkey-see-monkey-doism, by melding high-speed hardcore (then referred to as “thrash,” which, like “hardcore,” apparently means crappy speed metal these days) and unintelligible lyrics with surf-rock, infusing the whole thing with a sense of humor and fuck-it-all attitude and making it sound like not only the most normal combination on earth, but that any asshole could pick up a guitar and do the same. Let’s ignore the fact that the bulk of their first four releases quite possibly served as the soundtrack for damn near every grind, ollie, boneless, acid drop, front-side air and face plant attempted in a backyard pool or half-pipe in 1980s America. What makes them so special? Simple. They fucking rocked and, twenty years down the line, even the most dated track on here STILL fucking rocks. Sure, we can gripe about the fact that the Mad Gardens EP and their self-titled LP aren’t on here, the latter of which included arguably their shining moment, “The Day Walt Disney Died,” but that would be like your mom making a great meal with all your favorite foods and you whining ’cause she forgot the mashed potatoes and the corn. If Alternative Tentacles has any kind of heart, they’ll rectify the situation by following this up with a disc compiling those releases in short order (and while we’re at it, what are the odds of a retrospective CD of Tucson’s Conflict? Just thought I’d ask), so shut up and enjoy what’s already on your plate. Let us all rejoice, for a huge chunk of JFA’s best, most important material is back in circulation and readily available, and, like the reissue of Oscar Zeta Acosta’s book, Revolt of the Cockroach People, let’s just hope it stays that way. –Jimmy Alvarado (Alternative Tentacles)

Dragging Wonder Lake: CD
Session musician ‘70s-style easy listening which is rarely good, interesting, groovy, charming, fun, challenging, fast, or worth a dollar. –Cuss Baxter (Thrill Jockey)

Carnival Sky: CD
Tries to do the breathy Elliot Smith thing, but in a way that makes Elliot look tough. –Megan Pants (Sonoface)

Walking Away from Things We Are Not: CD
Well, get ready to walk away from being a good band, then. Super generic music, super affected vocals (the cockney ‘A’s) I wish they’d disappear. –Megan Pants (we_the_invisibles@hotmail.com)

Turn on the Bright Lights: CD
New York City’s Interpol is pretty enough to make you cry and they deliver enough heartbreaking melancholic doom rock to make Ian Curtis want to hang himself again. I’m not apologizing for that sacrilegious comment to you goths out there, but seriously folks, while a couple of the tunes miss with too much weepiness, most of this record stands out with shining brilliance, namely the tracks “Untitled,” which washes the senses with bittersweetness, and the minor KROQ hit “PDA”. What’s with the bass player’s hairdo? It’s so retro-haute with its “surf’s up” side part – I long for seventh grade when skaters used to sport this do and tag up “Skateboarding Is Not a Crime,” Oh yeah, and fuck Avril Levigne, that silly little Hot Topic ho. I wonder what Jonathan Richman thinks of them. He, the purveyor of confessional, quirky love songs? Who fucking cares? Nobody touches Richman when it comes to this shit but Interpol sure does try. If you’re woman, get this album since you’ll think the guys are cute. It’ll give your boyfriend something to seethe about, or at least you can pretend he’s seething. If you’re a man, get this album to impress the chicks. They’ll think you have good taste, that you’re sensitive and cool. –Namella J. Kim (Matador)

Bigger Cages, Longer Chains: CDEP
Catchy, sexed-up lefty rock that sounds a lot like old Refused songs gutted of their hardcore trappings and stripped down to the bare animal core. Infused with loads of wisdom bytes from everyone from Noam Chomsky to Guy Debord. Peachy. –aphid (Burning Heart)

Some of the Young: CD
Think of Green Day meets Squeeze, but even more poppy. If you can imagine that. –Donofthedead (Adeline)

Love Is a Charm of Powerful Trouble: LP
Oh my God! I was reading the new Rolling Stone and they said that this band was hot, right up there with Snoop Dogg! Dude, that magazine is so hip. I mean, do you remember the Britney interview? Well, she’s rock. And you know Rolling Stone rocks ‘cause it’s like that band the Rolling Stones. They got their name from there, right? Yeah, like the Immortal Lee County Killers are part of the new guitar and drums “back-to-basics” garage stuff, you know? Like, if you like the Strokes and the White Stripes then you’re gonna’ like… Enough of that. The Immortal Lee County Killers II, are not one of the new “back-to-basics, drums and guitar” bands. What they’ve got going on is old. It’s been around since before we were all born and will be around long after we are gone. It’s power over yourself. It’s freedom to live. It’s creeping. It’s low down. It’s up there in the heavens waiting. Or it could be just around the corner. The Cheetah and The Token One have been shaking sweaty souls in the South for years. “If you don’t know, you better ask somebody.” These boys are doing it as right as it can be done. And that’s with respect for the roots from Willie Dixon, to the unknown authored songs of hard times past, and all the way up to the present-day R. L. Burnside. They’re bringing a message for the times to the poets, to the people, to the philosophers, to our history, America the Troubled. It’s all hell and bad weather these days. Hold on people and pull it together. A lot of uncertainty lies up ahead. It’s times like this where we’d be wise to check with our history, to call up the voices which have been lying stacked on the shelves. It’s time to look on back and find the strength and wisdom for today. It’s in our hearts. It’s in our souls. –Guest Contributor (Estrus)

Yes. No. Shut It: CD
Okay, by the time you read this they will be well on their way to the success cruise ship commandeered by Jack and Meg White, the fluffy haired members of The Strokes and those Goonies rejects – The Vines. There’s nothing wrong with making it, as long as it’s done on your own terms and you don’t forget where you come from. If you’re reading this and wondering if I am talking about you – then chances are – yes, I am talking about you. The LA Shakedown was a disappointment for the most part; The Hunches and The Mystery Girls made it painfully clear when they packed out the rival Juvee venue while The Garage pandered to a minute Shakedown “crowd.” Pouty lead singer Hart sounds like Jon Spencer on crack, which is a good thing cause Jon Spencer needs to be on crack. Fuck, everyone needs a little crack now and then, since the world is just too damn easy these days! The Hunches brought the bigbeatfuzzdistortioncrazehop and had the kids jumping around like a freshly caught fish gasping and pouncing for water. The kids just went nutz. We saw chicks being literally hurled at Hart and punk rock spikey haired folks jumping onto Silverlake hipster chicks in lowrise pants, I mean the world was just coming down in that room. This record is a dirty little record that makes you wanna wash your ears afterwards – replete with sound bites of children, vacuum solos and enough fuzz to make Guitar Wolf wonder, “what’s their secret?” It’s probably the uncompromising Mike McHugh production. It’s probably safe to say he’s the only producer in Southern California worthy enough to work with raw genius like The Hunches. Get it now before your gay cousin starts getting into it. –Namella J. Kim (In the Red)

1994-1998 Recordings: 2xCD
Man! Where was I when this band was around? This release has forty-six songs! They were only together for four years? I think I had a split of theirs a few years ago. I don’t know what I did with it. This compiles a 12", three albums, four 7"’s and tracks off of three splits. Whew. That’s a lot of work for that short period of time. I guess they never made to the states but had a following in Japan as well as locally in the UK. Well, let’s start like I have never heard this band before. Actually that’s part true since I didn’t remember what they sounded like. To me, the band sound is reminiscent to the early Goo Goo Dolls when they were punk and the Replacements mixed with some Squeeze and a little XTC to add some flavor. It reminds me of some of the music I was listening to during the late ‘80s to early ‘90s. I can’t take the pop out of this punk. The melodies are dead on, the guitars drive things forward, and the musicianship is spectacular. Definitely a release that will return to the CD player for a listen. I like it when a discography catches me up to something that I might have missed. –Donofthedead (Crackle)

Product of Our Environment: CD
The word on the street was that these kids had it goin’ on and, wonder of wonders, they do, in fact, got it goin’ on with more to spare. Totally rockin’ without having to resort to some formulaic Detroit cliché, tough enough to share a stage with the hardest of the hardcore, and tight-as-hell playin’, this is destined to make more than a few top ten lists come next January. Next time someone whines that punk rock ain’t as good as it was “back in the day,” plop this puppy in the player and watch their jaw drop. –Jimmy Alvarado (TKO)

Commercial Brake: CD
Dude, you need, at the very least, a drummer something awful. Once you achieve that benchmark, we’ll talk about the songs. –Jimmy Alvarado (JSNTGM)

Split: 7"
I don’t know if most people are ready for something like this. You get in a rut and you don’t buy new music for a while. A comfort zone has incased you and you are not ready to burst out of your familiar bubble. I go there sometimes. Some CDs haven’t left the CD changer in my car for over a year. But the great thing about hearing new music is the spontaneity of feeling your blood rush. You lose track of time and space. Feel like someone is going ape shit for you when you can’t yourself. I popped this on the turntable and was totally floored by what was coming out of my speakers. If you don’t like fast punk, go away! Here are the facts of this release that I received from the guy who released this. This was originally released in Brazil. The singer of Gritos De Alerta runs the label Terrotten that initially half released this with the label Usina de Sangue. I was told a member of Heresia also plays in the band Sick Terror. This US pressing is limited to 500 and on grey splattered vinyl. Heresia: Serious D-beat meets Sweden damage here that is so fucking heavy, I barely could breath from the weight. Sounds like the rumble you hear before an earthquake shakes your house and belongings. It’s a sound that, if done right, can be so powerful even though it has been replicated. Gritos De Alerta: Fast, blasting punk rock that ventures into crust territory. It’s got Energizer bunny drumming with a guitar that sounds like it’s hooked up to a boombox and not an amp. If you like the screamo vocals, that’s what you get here. To sum it up, I preferred the Heresia side, but was not displeased with the Gritos De Alerta side. –Donofthedead (Ponk-111)

Patmos or Bust: 7"
I think I had given up on ever finding a band that had everything I ever wanted in a punk band all rolled up together in one nice, messy, demented little package. And then I stumbled on Sweden's Henry Fiat's Open Sore. Fast, ridiculous, sloppy, sick, and funny as all fuck; kind of like a Blood, Guts, and Pussy-era Dwarves if the Dwarves took all the drugs they've ever ingested, but all in one night – and then they wrapped their heads up in diapers. As HFOS 7 inchers go, I wouldn't put Patmos or Bust up there with psycho scorchers like Headshots or Makes Your Cock Big, but it's a worthy addition to the Sores' library of hebephrenic punk. –aphid (Wrench)

Bang: CD
Uninspired geek rock that never gets to the rock part. –Megan Pants (8 ohm)

Re-Igniting the Sun: CD
Imagine if Metallica were a bunch of zitfaced teenagers with a thing for the Misfits… wait. Oh yeah. Well imagine Green Angel are a bunch of zitty teenagers with a thing for (early) Metallica and the Misfits, and no desire to break new ground (or take singing lessons). –Cuss Baxter (Suburban Justice)

Hello Doctor: CD
Cool minimalist synth-rap-new-wave thingamabob, reminiscent of a less intense, female-driven Le Shok. Too bad the lyrics are so fucking pathetic. –Jimmy Alvarado (www.rapbitches.com)

Hello Doctor: CD
"You're missing out on hot-ass humps cuz I spread legs like anthrax, and Kenny G-type blowjobs cuz I play a mean skin sax." Now if this, dear reader, is your idea of a "hugetime," than Oakland, California's Gravy Train!!!! (with four exclamation points, please) is your ultimate raunch-attack party band. They are four ex-Catholics (ah!, that explains it) living out your nastiest sexual fantasies via a couple of thrift store Casio synths, a sixty dollar drum machine, and a whole lotta sing-along, naughty-words raps, that'll leave you hot, bothered and wet for more. There's a B-52's call and response element here, but Hunx (the dude) is far more flaming than Fred Schneider could ever hope to be, and the fly girls – Drunx, Funx and Chunx, well… they ain't no beehive-wearing, sweet-voiced betties. And that's fine by them. Gravy Train!!!! seem to revel in their perviness as witnessed by the two-minute blasts pumpin' and grindin' out your woofers and tweeters. "Don't blame me for being sick for dick, sometimes it's titties that I wanna lick," pouts Hunx on "Double Decker Supreme," a threesome song "'bout blowin' loads in a butt while loads are blown in mine." Mom must be proud. Without reprinting all of the lyrics here I doubt I could do their brilliance justice, so to achieve maximum listening pleasure, I suggest reading along while giving this a spin. And if you're tuning in for purely educational purposes, lift the tray card for a "How to Pussy Thrusts" lesson. (Complete with diagrams.) –Kat Jetson (Kill Rock Stars)

Catchy Like a Cold b/w Spread It Like a Virus: 7"
Despite myself, I’m diggin Grain USA’s super squeaky clean, I-can-kick-their-asses pop. “Catchy Like a Cold” has enough juice to keep it from sounding sterile and their bubblegum chops have enough snap to keep the song from sounding flaccid. “Spread It Like a Virus” is just as good. It’s an instrumental head bopper that could easily be used for a soundtrack of an invalid overcoming personal tragedy and embracing the magic of the human soul. –Todd Taylor (www.disposablerevolution.com)

The Greatest Story Ever Hula’d: CD
Sweat-dripping, whisky-drowned, dirty Florida punk at its finest. First off, the split these guys did with Billy Reese Peters, pick it up. Ever since I reviewed it, it’s just gotten better and it’s now firmly lodged as one of the top twenty releases of 2002. I’ll be completely honest, on first listen to this I wasn’t hooked. The vocals are a tad slower and the instruments aren’t as instantly dazzling and frenetic. Also, this full-length seems sadder, more morose. (Apparent evidence is the song title “Suicide at $8 an Hour” and the supporting documentation is the lyrics sheet.) Then the netting takes hold – little flashes, little hooks, little dips and wanes. Some horns on one song. Then, around the fifteenth time I popped this on, I didn’t hold it up to the expectation of their split, but held it up to itself. Now, I hate to use words like “songwriting maturity,” because that’s usually for dildos, but these songs are denser, richer, and a slightly bit more of an acquired taste. They look at wreckage (their own ashes) more than bombast (like going after their boss man). So, let’s compare. Like Tiltwheel, the tones are bright and happy, but the sentiment is dark, ultra-articulate and sad. (“We’ll be making a better resource sleeping six feet underground” and “I had the weirdest dream/ Where I went a whole day with a spear in my chest/ I kept waiting to die.”) Like Leatherface, the guitars weave in tight, then splay apart and shimmer. It’s like you’re immersed in their songs, filled with metaphoric life preservers and harpoons. Like Dillinger Four, no instrument takes the easy way out. Pure propulsion and fireworks. Like the Beltones, Will is drumming, but he’s also singing, and it’s catchy hard-drinking, working class without-the-cliché punk rock. Ultimately – and the final testament – is that The Grabass Charlestons are a band that others will start being compared to. A top of 2003 for me, no doubt. –Todd Taylor (No Idea)

What the Fuck Will Change?: CDEP
A street punk band having this as their album title when the CD cover and half the inset is filled with pictures showing off their many fashionable belts and mohawks makes me think of the old Corrosion of Conformity song off Eye for an Eye – “Rebellion’s not the clothes you wear or the way you spike your hair… nothing’s gonna change because you’re music’s fast, nothing’s gonna change while you’re sitting on your ass.” What is in A Global Threat’s favor is that it is hard to sit on your ass while listening to this CD. Surely, it might be nice if they seemed a bit less concerned with what they look like (not so much that they are that overly dressed so much as they have SO many posed band photos.) This is loud, fast and angry, but musically adept and fairly diverse from song to song. Not diverse the way Alice Donut would have a fast punk song next to a folk sounding song, but diverse in that songs don’t all sound alike – most of them have fast circle pit parts and oi-infused sing along parts, but with that framework, they go all over the place. Lyrically, well, I didn’t learn any new political information from this CD, but the words are far more than filler so the vocalist has something to do between “fuck the systems.” This would probably have been my favorite CD if it came out when I was an angst-ridden teen, and it can be used to wean totalchaos.com fans off the idea that street punk has to be one dimensional. –rich (Punk Core)

Earache/Pass the Time: CDEP
A quick one this time around from one of the new American bands that play the early UK punk style. Like the Casualties and the Virus, this band, I feel, is the best of the genre today. The songs strike you with the jagged edge of a blunt knife. While many bands that currently play this style of music sound like bad reproductions of bands past, A Global Threat keep it fresh and powerful. –Donofthedead (Rodent Popsicle)

Bad Reputation: 7"
I’ve often sat and pontificated: What would have happened if Penelope Houston of the Avengers didn’t become a big, German adult contemporary pixie after her divorce from punk rock, and instead secretly was in a German band that fucking ripped it in relative obscurity? Weirder things have happened. If we didn’t have stuff like history, facts, and figures, you can just lay back and imagine The Gee Strings picking up where the Avengers dissolved. I can bask in that quite nicely. The b-side, “Dullish,” is the gem. No flabby skin, no reek of cashing in, just perfect punk. The cover of the tune that Joan Jett made famous, “Bad Reputation,” ain’t too shabby, either. –Todd Taylor (Stereodrive! c/o Green Hell)

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