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Razorcake #90
White Murder, both LPs
Treasure Fleet, The Sun Machine LP
Razorcake #89
White Murder, Form Early LP (CLEAR VINYL)


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No Idea Records

Record Reviews

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Below are some recently posted reviews.

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MALCONTENTS, THE:
Liquor Store EP: 7"

From the cover – of a naked lady puking onto a target on the ground – I thought this'd be dirty, nasty, in-the-red garage. Wrong bongo. I usually crap all over pervasively mellow heartbreak songs and nail them to the "alternative adult contemporary" crucifix in my bathroom. Since I didn't bring any preconceived notions to The Malcontents, (unlike the Replacements, who once breathed fire, but at the very end of their career, became the Paul Westerburg Plink and Cry Ensemble) I like these songs. They're catchy, hummable, sound like slowed-down 'Mats songs, and are extremely hangover friendly. When I want to puss out with dignity, this'll be spinning.

 

–todd (Skull)


MAIN, THE:
To the Grave b/w Kiss of Death: 7"

Headed by Spencer, formerly of Shattered Faith, I was very apprehensive about The Main, mostly due to seeing the previous incarnation, 4-Bolt Main. Yeowch, that was a hard-to-watch nightmare. I just remember such a high degree of wanking that eight beers into it, I just wanted the bad men to stop, put down their instruments, and get run over in the parking lot. Not the Main. It's stripped down, straight-ahead catchy punk that's got a lot of the best aspects of Shattered Faith: crackling guitars, real chanty parts, and the best part, songs that get to the point, pound, and get out. It's nice to hearken back to the feelings I got when I first heard China White and the Klan, but it's even better to hear the echoes of the past get injected with new adrenaline, lead by someone who really knows how to plug it. Very surprising. Did I mention Hostage's packaging is fucking amazing? Mine even came with a spider in the spindle hole.

 

–todd (Hostage)


LUBE:
Music of Chance b/w George Melly: 7"

I wasn't expecting this at all. It's mellow, smoky, broken-down, and melodramatic like Leonard Cohen, a little off kilter and eclectic, like Tom Waits. It took some getting used to – like when the harmonica slithers in like an asp – but I'm starting to like it in a lonesome barstool kind of way. Although the songs are long, they don't get tiring.

 

–todd (Revenge)


LOST SOUNDS:
Black-Wave: CD

Some serious '60s worship going on here, but it sounds like it’s being channeled through a death rock band raised on hardcore and very early Sonic Youth. What this translates to, kids, is that some melodies are identifiable through the din, but no way are these guys gonna be mistaken for Fleetwood Mac or something. Some may not be too hip to their brand of noise, but I’m pleased give it the high-sign.

 

–jimmy (Empty)


LOOSE:
Untamed: 7” EP

Italian rock/punk in the vein of Radio Birdman. A tad too derivative, but still pretty good.

 

–jimmy (Rockin’ House)


LIPSTICK PICKUPS/ BIKINI BUMPS:
: Split 7"

Lipstick Pickups: Dual female vocals. One's really good. The other one's a screech – like a squirrel in a wood chipper. Imagine if super early Go Go's were Japanese, huffed glue, and sounded like they were trying to get a command of the English language, but were really from Anaheim. Or if you beat up Shonen Knife really bad and stuck microphones in the wounds. They pull off a sort of inspired retardedness that's actually harder than it looks because the Lipstick Pickups don't fail to rock through all three tracks. Bikini Bumps: ever listen to band that you're thiiiiis close to really liking, but it sounds like their music's driving around with the parking brake on? The better track of the two, "Bikini Bumps + Talent = Violence" has a cool, meandering guitar over nicely gritted up vocals, and a steady beat. It's really close, but I say either step on the gas or twist the swagger knob a bit further to the right. Look forward to hearing more from both bands.

 

–todd (Geykido Comet)


LIBRAIRIANS, THE:
The Pathetic Aesthetic: CD

This is a pretty killer album save one thing: the vocals. They drive me nuts. They are so terrible. I can’t say it enough, I hate them. Maybe I wouldn’t care if I didn’t like everything else about it. I seriously could see this getting some heavy rotation over at Razorcake HQ and it would be great road trip music if only… I mean he’s got this nasally, whiney vibrato thing going on that makes me understand why he’d have to write a song called Thank You for Fucking Me. With a voice like that I’m sure it doesn’t happen too often.

 

–megan (Pandacide)


KYLESA/ MEMENTO MORI:
: Split 7"

Rule Number Fucking One: Put the speed on the 7" label, or at least the packaging. Kylesa: Since I don’t know the speed, here's two interpretations. At 33 RPM, their songs are plodders that I assume are trying to build tension or Sabbath-heavy chunkatude, but I just don't get the chains-a-draggin', intestines-stretched-to-hell vibe. My attention span for sludgecore is nil. I'd rather watch water turn into ice cubes. At 45 RPM, it sounds a lot like a mean Mr. Bungle fronted by Alvin Chipmunk. I really liked their debut 7". This just don’t rattle me at either speed. Memento Mori: the first song sounds like a soundtrack to a man frolicking in purple tights at Renaissance fair. Unnngh, fruity. Their second song, "Dirt Roads and Howls of Wolves," is the best of the four. It's dirty, metally, has a couple of great pace changes, and would be something Pushead could stamp with approval. Think in the same vein as Buzzov-en or the more straight-ahead Unsane.

 

–todd (Hyperrealist)


KRAYS, THE:
A Time for Action: CD

Nice, driving punk rock with just enough anthemic quality to get the fist pumping. Could’ve used the services of a better graphic artist than the one they were apparently stuck with, but that detracts none from the music. You could do much worse than picking this bad boy up.

 

–jimmy (TKO)


KILLERS, THE:
Manual for Self Destruction: 10”

Dude, it’s a 10”, it’s got a Pushead lookalike cover, a booklet, ex-Charles Bronson folks; it should drop me in my tracks, but sadly it rarely really hits a good groove. It seems to be so into being musically mature and lyrically anguished it won’t just let go and ROCK. If you don’t think that will bother you, though, there are ten loud and crazy songs and one terrible cartoon. Lap it up.

 

–Cuss Baxter (Hater of God)


KILL DEVIL HILLS, SEROTONIN:
: Split 7"

Serotonin sounds like Jawbox, circa Grippe. Mumbly vocals that are subsumed into the mix enough to be considered an instrument itself, and it nets with the guitar, drum, and bass. It's arty, dense, complex and comes pretty close to rockin'. It's a personal thing, I know, but I'm suspicious of all bassists who strap their instruments really high, and, in Serotonin's case, it reinforces my fear that he fingers and funks more instead of strumming and wailing. Kill Devil Hills goes from a long, almost classic rock, instrumental dirge into a Hot Water Music territory with hoarse vocals, stratospheric guitars and shout-alongs. The song goes back and forth a couple times between the two extremes. I like it, though. Hey, at least the yelling sounds genuine. The bassist, Andrew, went on to the extremely excellent Against Me! An alright split. Not going either nutso over it or wanting to bonk them on the head.

 

–todd (Soul Is Cheap)


KEVIN K BAND:
Sealed Works: CD

I guess this is what the kid’s these days are calling “punk rawk.” More accurately, it’s probably just “rawk.” It’s sort of a poorman’s (a really destitute poorman’s) Hellacopters or Backyard Babies. But way more, um, relaxed than either of those. Especially the vocals. They’re so relaxed sounding that they sound out of place in a grubby little band like this. Kevin K sounds like Don Dokken on a bunch of Xanax, sipping martinis. Odd. On the cover he looks like some putrefied street person who’s teeth were chewed out of his head by years of filterless cigarettes and rot gut whiskey. So I guess I was expecting some growling sociopathic Neanderthal like GG Allin or something. No such luck. Ballads, cheesy poorly-executed dual guitar wanks and that fruity, god-forsaken relaxed Dokken voice. And too many stupid Chuck Berry riffs. The Kevin K Band sounds exactly like every mediocre bar band you ever tried to drown out with loud drunken conversation. I honestly don’t know who this would appeal to.

 

–aphid (Laughing Outlaw)


I FARM:
Two Selected Works: CD

Apparently, this is a collection from two different records they put out a few years back. Herky, jerky punk with two thousand fucking changes, of which did nothing more than annoy the crap out of me. Nomeansno meets blazing pop punk.  Sounds more interesting than it really is. Not my cup of tea. –Mike Dunn

–Guest Contributor (Traffic Violation, BD, Yo-Yo, Freedumb)


HUNCHES:
Got Some Hate: 7”

Over-the-top trash rock with nary a hummable tune. Surprised it ain’t on Estrus or somethin’.

 

–jimmy (In the Red)


HUMUNGUS:
I Hate Motherfucking Cops/A Reason to Care: CD

Didn’t quite know what to expect from this bad boy. When I see Cheetah Chrome’s name attached to something, I figure, “Okay, Dead Boys vibe coming up,” but you throw Nicki Sicki into the mix and all bets are off. The end result is some raw, obnoxious hardcore not heard since the glory days of the Vats in Frisco. There are a couple of stabs at what I believe are “serious” subjects, such as vegetarianism, which are a little hard to swallow coming from a guy who once sang about destroying the human race, shooting speed, burning his parents, killing a Muni driver, and the like. Still, this is some pretty good stuff tailor made for those assholes that sit around whining that no one plays “real” hardcore anymore. Let them chew on this and hopefully they’ll shut the fuck up for a while.

 

–jimmy (Beer City)


HOOKERS, THE:
God Made Me The Raven: all 7 inches

Yes this review is old but I just got this thing so chill the fuck out, m’kay. Ah, another blast of fire and brimstone from hell’s furnace as interpreted by Kentucky’s majesty – The Hookers. It’s been a few years absence for these guys since their single outing for Sub Pop (!) and let’s not forget their sorely overlooked magnum opus of black southern metal Black Metal for Crimson Wisdom, their farewell full length CD. The Hookers broke up after the ashes settled from Black Metal posting their eulogy unceremoniously on their own website, where they crawled into a quiet slumber in the smallest nook they could squeeze their worn down and beaten asses into. 2001 brought them out of their self-imposed suspended animation and found them even more undeniably evil and all-powerful. Singer Rock’n’Roll Outlaw even started his own side project, Brothers of Conquest (whose initials coincidences with the might cow belling Blue Oyster Cult – I bet he did this on purpose, that dastardly deceptive and clever brute!) There were speculations of a possible tour, appearances at garage rock festivals, more albums, etc. What they delivered was this here single release on the perennially cool Get Hip Records. It's a much welcomed wash of virgin blood over the tiring waves of blues-rock revivals, bad arty punk, etc. So, you’re wearing your stretch black jeans and wanking off with your Urban Outfitter punk friends trying to learn Hives riffs. One of you just got a Ramones t-shirt for thirty bucks that’s made to look naturally faded through stuffy, smoke-filled, low capacity clubs, record swaps, tour van driving, sleeping on floors of untidy homes, and what not. You’re growing your facial hair and trying to affect that ‘70s rocker guy stance that lies somewhere between the overt gayness of Rod Stewart and the cool sinister of Gregg Allman. I’ve seen you hanging out at all the usual places, ass kissing to all the same faces, trying to belong where you don’t belong, lying in your lies, becoming what you can’t and won’t want in the end. For you, I give you a tip – The Hookers. No matter how ironic chic your t-shirt is and which breed of ‘70s rock inspired you this week, it all boils down to the gritty, grim structure of their unholy overtures. The Hookers are fueled by hatred (they hate you, they really do because you fail to see rock’n’roll raw and right in the eye), disgust (you and your friends need a spike gauntlet up your silly tiny assholes to loosen you up from all that caked up, fabricated crap you’re holding in), macabre (Fulci could not do better in terms of bloody gore-iffic imagery! Remember, Iron Maiden songs are mostly about Euro-mythology and wizard/ H.P. Lovecraft-ish themes because the heaviness of their music is the only thing that could sustain such an immense density of topic! Maiden just wouldn’t work if ol’ Bruce Dickinson bellowed songs about the rain forest, world hunger or political prisoners – leave that shit to Sting.), and down right offensive. (Yes, they were one of the first garage punk’n’roll bands to boldly display their love of metal like a family crest upon their bosom.) Okay, I’ve wasted enough time spewing a bunch of nothingness – go buy this Hookers single and shave, you dirty hippy wannabe! Learn to laugh at yourself and others! Yikes!

 

–nam (Get Hip)


HEXTALLS, THE:
Call It a Career: CD

I guess you could call playing in a suck-ass cookie cutter pop punk band a “career,” but how about if I just call the resulting music a pile of shit? It seems more accurate.

 

–jimmy (Shredder)


HELLNATION:
Dynamite up Your Ass: CD

Another twenty-one tracks of über-thrash to provide your head with the equivalent of pouring Liquid Draino into your ear and shaking briskly. Some wild shit not for the faint of heart.

–jimmy (Sound Pollution)


GREGOR SAMSA:
Self-titled: CD EP

Quiet, mellow stuff, kinda like Pink Floyd for the smooth jazz crowd. A quiet walk on the beach at sunset, walking the dog just after dinner….Zzzzzzzzzzzz.

 

–jimmy (Iodine)


GREAT CLEARING OFF, THE:
Within This Inch, We Are Free: 7"

Although not crud, it's extremely predictable. The drummer stays in the pocket. And although it's fun to reduce and reuse, tell your guitarists it's not so compelling to recycle the same riffs over and over. The singer sounds like he's gurgling tacks or screaming traffic directions. The lyrics – although with their hearts in the right place – are banal, vague, and self-fulfilling prophesies. (i.e. "We cannot trade compliance for the brass rings that they sell." And "I know there's an enemy. I know I'm not fucking wrong.") You mean to say there's bad people out there? You mean they want us to buy what they sell? You mean they're not doing it for the good of humanity but for profit? Really? Really? I've never heard of that. Yeah, I'm making fun of you because the lyrical bar's been raised since MDC.

 

–todd (Cheap Art)


GRAFTON:
Self-titled: 7”

Stoner riff rock'n'roll. Sorry, but this hippie shit just ain’t my bag.

 

–jimmy (Derailleur)


GOLDEN BATS:
Too Flash For the Neighborhood: CD

Total rock and roll style goin' on here. (Think: lots of sunglasses, leopard print, and styled hair.) I was expecting a total Thunders rip-off band, but the Golden Bats are a lot more poppy and pretty slow. Guy vocals with some backing girl vocals. Sometimes pretty catchy. Nothing super-great, but nothing super-bad, either.

 

–Maddy (Dr. Wu)


GLORYHOLES:
Knock You Up: CD

Building on the beauty that is their “This Is All There Is” 7", this full-length release gives us the two tracks from that single and adds thirteen more slices of primal punk, long on attitude and up to its eyeballs in psychosis. Seems like Seattle’s bands are trying to make up for the post-Nirvana grunge embarrassment associated with their fair city by cranking out some kick ass punk rock, as fans of the Briefs, Spits, these guys and the recently reformed Fartz can attest. Two very enthusiastic thumbs up.

 

–jimmy (Empty)


GBH:
Ha Ha: CD

Sounds like a demo. All the songs so far are the same speed as "Catch 23," too. In short, nothing to write home about, although the title "Sado Methodist" made me giggle.

 

–jimmy (Go Kart)


GAMITS, THE:
Come Get Some: CDEP
This band is kinda popular in my home burg, i think, but i don't think i ever cared enough to go see 'em, and, for whatever reason, i was thinking that i heard that they were a ska-ish outfit, "but good" (if there's an emoticon for eyeball-rolling, it goes here), and that's the platform from which i approached my first known contact with the band. As this is, apparently, a reissue of their first 7" plus bonus tracks, i spent a fairly sizable chunk of time trying to figure out how a band that sounded so Fat-like (i think? i don't speak from a position of great knowledge on the genre) (thankfully) and snot-slick got the ska bug, until i eventually realized that i think i was thinking of the Gadjits, not the Gamits, which more or less rendered all my observations inert, and i don't really feel compelled to listen to this again whilst not dwelling on how they effected a transformation to ska which, in fact, was not effected (i think...unless i am NOT confusing them with the Gadjits? Oy vey...), so all i can say is that if i was a fan of this band's later recordings, which i am not, i imagine i would be a fan of this too. Worth keeping around for their killer fucking cover of "There's
A Place" by the Beatles though, which would have been even killerer had i not heard the Dickies do it a couple o' years ago. The bonus tracks are from practice sessions, and sound slicker than my band's real records. Do these people just emerge from the womb smothered in a perpetually-regenerating afterbirth of liquid Teflon? or what? WORST SONG TITLE: "Song About a Song"  BEST SONG: "There's a Place"  FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: That first Beatles album is really good. You should get it today.

 

–norb (Not Bad)


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