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No Idea Records

Record Reviews

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Swear to Me; Tape: LP and Cassette
The first thing that I heard from Brainworms was their split with Tubers. They presented one original and a Rites Of Spring cover. Their original sounded not too unlike ROS. Those two tracks, along with the tracks from their splits with Dynamite Arrows and Catalyst, appear on the cassette. After hearing an album and three splits’ worth of material, though they stay in the realm of emotional hardcore, I can’t say that Brainworms is simply Revolution Summer-esque. Think of ROS as a bookend with maybe Antioch Arrow on the other end of the shelf, but Brainworms’ influences aren’t used as a crutch to hold them up. Initially, their approach seems to be simply frantic and maniacal with vocals that never let up, remaining constantly abrasive. This comes through much clearer on the cassette. The LP has a calmer feel, which still isn’t really calm. Still, on both the releases underneath the mania is a feeling of safety that comes with trust. It’s as though Brainworms was jilted by the world and decided that, instead of issuing a directive of revenge, it was necessary to give a guiding hand through the madness by offering a taste of the lunacy to others via sound. Demented and passionate stuff, here. –Vincent Battilana (LP: Rorschach; Cass: People’s Republic Of Rock And Roll)

Those Who Sow Sorrow Shall Reap Rage: CD
Weird mix of hardcore, modern pop punk, and revolutionary rhetoric, right down to the Crass-styled stencil lettering and pictures of Molotov-chucking Sandinistas. Can’t say I dug the music all that much, but I liked the fact that it’s the first time in a good while that I heard anything resembling a Green Day song with lyrics about the prison industrial complex. –Jimmy Alvarado (Rebel Time)

Untouchable: CDEP
As the band and label name imply, there is a definite interest in certain malt beverages in evidence here. Normally, that’s a bit of a black mark for me, not because I’m a prude, ’cause, lord knows, I’ve been know to knock back a few in my time, but because it seems like such an easy rabbit hole to hide in instead of saying something truly threatening to the status quo. In this case, however, they pair that unhealthy obsessin’ with some decent meat and potatoes punk rock, and even manage to make a point or two that don’t involve drinkin’. Can’t say they’re my favorite new band, but I ain’t hatin’ what they’re dishin’ out, either. –Jimmy Alvarado (Wet Brain)

Split: 7” EP
Brokedowns: How rad would it be if the Brokedowns got to sing at the funeral of George W. Bush instead of someone like Huey Lewis? And then they got to shoot the M-16s at the end and use a string of flags as a slip’n’slide. I know that’s coming from left field, but I think that’d be great. Maybe it’s that their songs are serious laments—barky and staccato—but in a way that smells in the pits like a band that doesn’t take themselves too seriously. Turkish Techno: Are getting more tightly wound with each release that comes through Razorcake HQ, and when they’re spinning on the turntable, instead of picturing a hula girl on a dashboard, I see one Martin Ploy III, known to many of us as Party Marty, spilling half his beer, smiling his fuckin’ face off, then yelling along to the band while pointing to their heads. They sound exactly like that. –Todd Taylor (Traffic Street)

Deportation: 7” EP
Sloppy, fly by the seat of your pants hardcore stuff. At times, they come dangerously close to sounding like early Gang Green, and the lyrics are almost as haiku-like in their simplicity: “wear a fuckin’ sweater/the sun’s turnin’ off/bundle up real good/Armageddon gets me off/2012 nobody will keep us from havin’ fun/party, party, party.” They, thankfully, don’t get silly with the speed, but still manage to pack quite a wallop. –Jimmy Alvarado (Feral Kid)

Spoils of Failure: LP
Reviewing a friend’s record is always a bit of a daunting task, considerably more so when the entire band is comprised of people you grew up with, people you know much more deeply than on a simply musical level. I wouldn’t necessarily call it a conflict of interest, however. I’d like to think that anyone at this (or any) magazine would be above promotion for promotion’s sake—I certainly am—and if you can know for a fact that a band’s sentiments are genuine and passionate, not only through their lyrics, but from a firsthand account of their lifestyle, I think you’re in as good a position as any, if not better, to give an accurate review. Born out of Ottawa, Canada’s ‘90s hardcore community, spearheaded by groups such as Shotmaker, Uranus, Okara, and their Francophone counterparts in Drift, Jonah, and One Eyed God Prophecy, Buried Inside has evolved over four full-lengths (the last two on Relapse) from the chaotic sounds of its initial influences into a furious, pummeling combination of those aforementioned groups and more current purveyors of doom such as latter-era Neurosis. Their 2004 offering, Chronoclast, was a massive step forward in terms of songwriting and production (it was the band’s first pairing with producer Matt Bayles, who also mixed this most recent release, with Converge’s Kurt Ballou handling the recording process), and Spoils of Failure is yet another step forward in the band’s evolution. While I’m personally a bit bummed by the near-complete abandoning of the frenzied, speedy passages that were characteristic of their earlier albums, there’s no arguing that these are the best songs the band has crafted to date, and Spoils of Failure is certainly as lyrically thought-provoking as anything the band has done before. It’s funny to know that these five guys are giving the same chills to thousands of people around the world that they gave to a tiny basement full of their closest friends some ten years ago, and I’m positive Spoils of Failure is only going to add to that number. Great work, fellas. –Dave Williams (Relapse)

Self-titled: CD
As long as I can remember, I’ve had a thing for Texas. I’ve never been there and I don’t know why. When I was a kid, I was stoked that there was a town with the same name as me (Tyler), but as I got older and into music, I found that a lot of the bands I liked were from the LoneStarState: Big Boys, Butthole Surfers, D.R.I., Roky Erickson, ZZ Top, Geto Boys, Marked Men, Riverboat Gamblers…. There was always something about Texas bands that wasn’t quite right in a good way and Buzzcrusher is no different. This here is heavy, down South rock punk. Songs about guns, getting wasted, being Texan, “scorin’ dope from bikers,” and a Discharge cover. Musically, these guys are falling in somewhere between Antiseen and Poison Idea. That’s some heavy company, but Buzzcrusher fits in just fine. –Ty Stranglehold (Zodiac Killer)

Doin’ Time: 7”
Wow, I didn’t know these guys were still sluggin’ it out. The two tunes here don’t quite reach the manic froth I remember them hitting with past efforts, but they do show these boyos haven’t lost their love for down’n’dirty rock’n’roll. –Jimmy Alvarado (Zodiac Killer)

Self-titled: 7” EP
The music’s steeped in early Ramones pop simplicity. The lyrics en español consist of two lovey dovey tunes, one expressing a hatred of pizza and one professing only wanting to dance. Catchy and fun, which is never a bad way to go. –Jimmy Alvarado (TPV)

Go Crazy! Throw Fireworks: CD
I bet it totally sucks to be saddled with the albatross of your past endeavors. Dudes like John Lydon, Jesse Michaels, and Ian Mackaye have all continued—with varying results—to create music long after their initial trailblazing was done. And it’s not that Nathan Gray (vocalist for The Casting Out and, previous to that, Boy Sets Fire) is necessarily up there in the tiers of musical history with any of those dudes, but unfortunately for him, his vocals are so instantly recognizable and distinct that it’s virtually impossible to not compare his old band to his new one. Boy Sets Fire was once referred to in an old issue of Heartattack as Jon Secada fronting a hardcore band, which had more than a kernel of truth to it—the man sings—but was also pretty unfair: they mixed up the catchiness with some decent snarls, and much of what made that band initially interesting was Gray’s unflinching, over-the-top melodies. Couple that with their aggressive political views and willingness to speak about ‘em—even if they sometimes looked like dumbasses in the process—and they were a band that people either loved or hated. There wasn’t much of a middle ground. Unfortunately for The Casting Out, virtually everything that made Boy Sets Fire unique seems to have been chopped off and scooped out. I mean, the production here is smooth as shit, the band’s incredibly tight, and at times they sound similar to bands like North Lincoln or Epitaph-era Hot Water Music. But with that way-huge melodic sensibility and Gray’s signature pipes that’d easily put Greg Graffin’s whoa-ohs to shame, there’s really not a whole lot of kick and bite available. The whole album is just so frustratingly smooth and glossy. Lyrically, Gray’s gone a lot more personal and introspective this time around, but the entire package—vocals and music combined—just comes across as so goddamn sugary. Again, there’s that albatross—the comparison’s certainly not fair to the rest of the members of The Casting Out, or Gray himself, but it’s there nonetheless. Go Crazy! Throw Fireworks! leaves me wishing, ultimately, for less polish and more sneer, or at least for something vocally varied enough to act as a lifeline to pull me through these songs. The music’s generally pretty good, but coupled with those vocals and relentless melodies, there are no rough-hewn edges to grab onto. It’s just a smooth ride all the way through, which ultimately translates, at least to this listener, as a wholly unthreatening, uninteresting ride. –Keith Rosson (Fail Safe)

Imminent Eminence: CD
Track one is titled “Are We Doing This?”, and is a weird, phased-out guitar experiment. From there, it goes back and forth from stuff like that, and some other stuff that kind of sounds like a more mid-tempo Bracket, with Fred Schnieder’s third nephew singing. –Joe Evans III (Self-released)

Kings for a Day—The Vinyl Japan Years: 2 x CD
Bit of an odd listen here for me. I’m well versed in their early thrash-o-matic stuff and have kept informed enough over the years to know they still have a fondness for raising a ruckus, but some of the stuff here kinda came from left field. The first disc is primarily covers of tunes originally by PIL, Elvis Costello, Ian Dury, Plasmatics, the Drones, and others, some of which are actually pretty well done and funny at the same time. The other disc is a collection of EP tracks, including some more covers of Lurkers and Partisans tunes. The first block of originals sound more like oi-inspired tunes, which is a bit of a shock to those of us used to the raucous slam-bang these guys claimed as their signature sound. Just when you start wonderin’ where all the noise went, they slap on the tracks from the Kanpai EP and you’re back in familiar waters. On the whole, I can’t say this was my favorite stuff by ’em, but it was definitely an interesting departure from the tried and true, most of which they successfully pull off. –Jimmy Alvarado (www.cherryred.co.uk)

R & B: LP
1966 was a good year for warbling soul and rock’n’roll covers. The Charts could be looked at as just another regional band from the time period. But these recordings, which include an obligatory version of “Gloria,” are extra magical in their execution. Overdriven is the theme for this half studio/half live document of New Zealand’s version of the Yardbirds. The first side includes their studio sessions, which are tight and fuzzy and exemplify good pop writing of the era. The live side provides a document in mono, complete with distorting vocals. Loaded with energy, The Charts sail through a set list that contains a good mix of soul and rock standards. Sometimes, the live side of an album can come off as filler, but, in this case, the live side is relevant. Pete Townsend once said that he was uncertain about the connection between The Who and mod culture. There is no confusion here. This is mod R&B all the way through, and an excellent party record. At least, my kind of party. –Billups Allen (Norton)

Volume 1: Souvenirs & Evidence: LP
Sounds a lot like Lee Ving singing for Motörhead or Antiseen, which might not sound that bad, but it’s also not really that great, either. However, I must commend them on the line in the song “July of ’68” that goes “I’m like McDonald’s, baby, cheap and easy and laced with regret.” What a fucking amazing line, wish there was more of that here. It is a nice looking record, gatefold sleeve, features a mug shot of Jane Fonda on the cover. Didn’t realize we were still worked up over Jane Fonda these days. Overall, not a bad record but also not really what I’m looking for in a record. You folks out there who dig on the Confederacy of Scum bag should jump all over this, however. –Jeff (Mad At The World)

Democracy: 2004-2008: CD
Interlace this review with The Ergs! Hindsight Is 20/20 review. Perhaps since I didn’t get to see the Chinese Telephones often, and the times that I did were special, it’s hard for me to take that another “new” band that I put on the top shelf of DIY torch bearers is calling it quits. An incomplete way to describe the band is that they were the fibrous tissue connecting Screeching Weasel to the Potential Johns: a pop punk sensibility, perfectly “imperfect” recordings, hooked up to a biting, buzzing energy of a band that refused to print its lyrics. And, like The Ergs!, the Chinese Telephones were able to go into the then-empty pop punk cauldron and reconstituted it into a bubbling, wicked mass of sonic potions by knowing what to keep, knowing what unexpected ingredients to add, and what needed to evaporate into the past. So, in the end, the Chinese Telephones were and weren’t pop punk. What they were was an honest, memorable step into larger shoes that are just sitting there, waiting for you to try them on so you can start dancing or use them as running shoes to jog into a slightly better mood. This collection of fifteen songs is a collection of all-previously-vinyl releases (7”s and splits). It’s not their whole kit and caboodle, but it does the job. Justin, please start a new band soon. –Todd Taylor (Sandwich Man)

Self-titled: CD
This record is a prime example of why I don’t like reviewers who half listen to a record once and knock out a short paragraph review. Especially when that review is negative. If I had written this the first time I listened to this record, I would have given it a completely different review. I’m a big fan of Chris Wollard’s voice and songwriting. I’d easily say I like his post-Hot Water Music work over that of Chuck Ragan’s. Nothing against Chuck, but I’ve thrown on The Draft’s LP many more times than any of Chuck’s records. However, I was a bit taken aback by how different Chris sounds on this record. The song writing is easily recognized, but the tempo is slower and he’s operating on a lower register. I put this in a five disc changer after listening to it by itself a few times and let it come up in the mix at random. That’s when I was really able to appreciate this for what it is on its own merits instead of my expectations. These songs come from the same shafts Evan Dando mines on his best days and shines through the same holes in the canopy that Elliott Smith’s greatest moments did. It covers a lot of the heartbreak and “good times are killing me” ground you’d expect from Chris and the previously mentioned artists without making you want to kill yourself at the end of it. This might be a one-off solo project, but each song is finely crafted and stands on its own. Separate from Chris’s past musical entanglements. Chris did what all musicians in famous bands who do solo records should do. He made a record in his own voice that differs from his other bands but comes up with the goods as far as the songs go. Too many people either make albums that sound exactly like their main band or attempt to shoot so far in to the opposite end of the spectrum as possible. Chris found the middle ground here and it pays for those who take the time to appreciate the effort. –Steveo (No Idea)

BRYCCHouse Benefit Compilation: CD
A benefit for a youth cultural center located in Kentucky, this is a pretty decent outing as far as benefit comps go. While I’m not enthused by the ska and emo entries, the sounds are pretty widely varied, from the above mentioned styles to acoustic to hardcore to art damage and so on, and the quality of the tracks is consistently high. Featured artists include Chumbawamba, IN DK, Kung Fu Rick, Noam Chomsky, A National Acrobat, Truce, and others. Not a bad listen. –Jimmy Alvarado (BRYCCHouse)

Stay Down: CD
Sometimes I wonder if my trying to trade in crappy CDs like this for better ones might be ruining my reputation. I mean sure, I’m a reviewer and all, but I would imagine most would think I willingly sought out this unholy garbage. Last time I went in to trade, I coulda swore the guy behind the counter looked at me kinda funny as he flipped through the eighteenth emo CD I inadvertently picked up outta the review pile. Maybe I should just stop trying to trade ‘em in and go back to giving out as Christmas presents to people who owe me money and chucking them at annoying pigeons like I used to. Oh yeah, this disc sucked pretty hard. –Jimmy Alvarado (Undisputed Heavyweight Champions)

Gruesome Twosome, Vol. 1: CD
O.K. You all know who the UK Subs are. Harper and Garrat are both present for this current lineup. These Brits have a classic pedigree, but I’ve got to say that I’m not a fan of their current output. A couple of these songs aren’t bad, but there are poppy elements that annoy me. Also, I could do without the reggae. The Clash and the Bad Brains could pull it off in their respective heydays, but those were different bands and different times. Here it just sounds silly. I’ve never heard National Razor before, but to me it sounds like pretty typical street punk of the poppy variety. They remind me of a less interesting, less sophisticated Swingin’ Utters. Sorry guys, not memorable for me. –Yemin –Guest Contributor (Morphius)

Blood Money: CD
When I listen to Tom Waits albums, often find myself making up little movies in my head. For this one, my little cerebral cinema presents a melodrama about a gritty 1920s New York neighborhood, where there’re equal parts danger and beauty awaiting the unsuspecting. Of course by the end of the disc, all the characters in my cranial cinematic masterpiece have been eaten by giant pigeons with clown makeup on and the heroes have all checked into Betty Ford’s clinic some fifty or sixty years before it even exists, and I blame this wholly weird turn of events on the music itself. Fans of Bone Machine and similar albums will be glad to know that Waits is no less eclectic and psychotic on this latest effort, alternating vocally between gruff woofing, wheezy bar crooner and sometimes nearly achieving a “normal” quality to his woefully abused pipes. They will also be glad to know that this is a solid album, where the wild eclecticism accentuates rather than distracts the listener and draws him into worlds not often visited by the normal, or at least remotely sane. My next project is to rent a copy of City of Lost Children, turn the sound down and see how well this fits as a soundtrack. So recommended it ain’t funny. –Jimmy Alvarado (Anti/Epitaph)

self-titled: 7”
Pissed-off street punk that will have you barking along in no time with cuts like “What About Me?” and “Outbound.” I’m imagining that Tommy and the Terrors tend to stir it up live at their shows from the sounds of this lil’ slab of tuneage. Until then, I can only crank this monster up on the stereo and knock people down my stairs who don’t find this appealing and/or coming up those same stairs to complain. –Designated Dale (Rodent Popsicle)

split: 7”
Toys That Kill have yet to disappoint. They’re stealthy. If you listen with a lazy ear, they may sound merely spastic, a little retarded, but with repeated listens – as opposed to bands like The Vandals and Guttermouth who revel in being booger-eatin’ morons with cryogenically frozen minds of twelve-year-olds – their smartypants quotient becomes apparent. Their songs never lull, stutter step, or miscalculate. I can hear flashes and snaps of Cheap Trick, Psychedelic Furs, and “I know that song”-ness amplified, messed with, and groomed in their own style. I’m not saying they’re geniuses, but the lyrics and music combined reinforce the idea that this is, indeed, a band that doesn’t have to be flashy and doesn’t have to use big words and confusing artshit to continue on a unique path, one that I’m happy to listen to over and over again. Included are two songs that aren’t on their highly recommended CD, The Citizen Abortion: “Run From Love” and “Birds in Catsuits.” The Ragin’ Hormones – if Chuck Berry was dead, this would be like watching a band piss in his mouth at the funeral. So awful I don’t even want to comment on it. –Todd Taylor (Stardumb)

Mysterioso: CD
Some more swell noise from these guys. Imagine High on Fire covering Nirvana’s Bleach and you ain’t too far outta the ballpark. Just the right amount of volume to be rockin’, the right amount of derivation to be familiar and the right amount of originality to be worth listening to. –Jimmy Alvarado (Berserker)

self-titled: 12”
The sound floats into the air and hangs as all these elements float about and build upon one another. At times the compositions seem repetitious, but listen closer and you’ll discover many layers under the surface. Brass and woodwinds snaking about, guitars skittering through fluid-like bass lines and swoops. Ambient music that can be quiet and loud all at once. The drumming can be subdued while a baritone sax borders on skronk, and in the background you can hear the sound of space. –Matt Average (Gravity)

self-titled: 7”
Moody garage rock that did fuckall for this listener. –Jimmy Alvarado (Fanboy)

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