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No Idea Records

Record Reviews

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THIS DAMN TOWN/GUILTY HEARTS:
Split: 7"
Each band gives us two tracks, This Damn Town laying down “Lovesick and Stupid” and “Something Bad,” and Guilty Hearts rocking “I Learned My Lesson” and “Seven Days, Seven Ways.” The Guilty Hearts side has a great swamp blues feel calling to mind the Dutch combo Lo Lite. I can imagine being knifed in a back alley somewhere while these tunes play in the background. This Damn Town’s singer howls his way through their songs, giving them a creepy, I’m-about-to-get-hustled tone. A moody release that I’ll certainly be giving a few more spins. –Josh Benke (Sonico)


TALK, THE:
The Sinners of Daughters: CD
It’s kind of like if The Pet Shop Boys weren’t as good as they were. And, I’m no Pet Shop Boys Fan. –Megan Pants (Morisen)


THIS DAMN TOWN:
This Time: 7"
This Damn Town brings to mind the type of bands that were running American regional music circuits in the ’20s through the ‘50s; bands that earned their living in roadhouses, shacks in the middle of forests, bunkers, and jamborees for little more than pay to the next town, dangerous encounters with any combination of women, men, shady business deals, drugs, and the love of music. But what came out of it no longer seems to exist on the national stage: steel-nerved, roots-ready bands that, no matter what they’re playing, is muscled through with meaty chops and excellent musicianship. It’s not flashy because those so secure in their playing can always kill the listener at any speed. Up front, is a languid—but not relaxed—Lux Interior vocalist that sweetens the deal. –Todd Taylor (Shake Your Ass)


SWITCH-UPS, THE:
Self-titled: CD
What the devil is this? On the cover of this thing you have a Sick Of It All’s Blood, Sweat and No Tears-style montage showing all these tuff-guy skinhead types swigging beers and flipping everyone the bird, but when you actually play the CD, it sounds like Clay Aiken fronting an emo street punk band. Egads, can this possibly be? Is this the American Idol punk record I never heard about because I’m a bad person who doesn’t watch “must see” TV? It actually hurts to listen to this… I can feel my testicles crawling up into my body to get away from the hideous vibrations. The tuneless voice and the dorky lounge lizard delivery falls somewhere between a bad Michale Graves impersonator whose tights are too tight and a Tupperware container of cold green beans. This whole band has all the fiery charisma of a black plastic pocket comb. Ugh. Ahhhh, but I don’t buy it. Nice try. You almost had me going this time. But I know when performance art comes up and drops a clown turd in my lap. Ha! You really had me going there. I kinda feel stupid now. Good one, though. –aphid (Reality Clash)


SUZY & LOS QUATTRO:
Ready to Go!: CD
The equation’s easy as shit: a Spanish version of early Suzi Quattro fronting the I-wanna-be-your-boyfriend side of the Ramones. The CD even has a font similar to the one used on Suzi’s Bravo Prasentiert album. For some reason, the replication doesn’t seem to really matter because those who they rip from either aren’t around or are far from releasing their best stuff. Suzy Chain’s got the angelic, yet-finger-in-mouth-pulling-the-bottom-lip-down, glossy go-go boots posturing down and isn’t hard to look at. But it’s her voice and the band’s immaculate playing that make this shamelessly fun pop. This shit sparkles and shakes buckles loose. If you’re geeky for female-fronted, Go-Go’s-approved skinny tie pop, or a fan of much of what Teenacide releases, put down that Knack album (it’s only got two good songs on it, anyway) and pick this up. –Todd Taylor (No Tomorrow)


SUB CITY DWELLERS:
Out on the Streets: CD
Sub City Dwellers have a skinhead ska sound complete with saxophone, keyboards, trombone, and trumpet. I enjoy the upbeat and energetic nature of most of the songs, such as “Hold the Pressure Down” and “1st and 55th Ave.” Although “1st and 55th Ave.” is a great song, it is musically and lyrically way too reminiscent of Rancid. Even the pronunciation of certain words in the song sound like Tim Armstrong’s signature speech impediment style of singing. “Dubcity” is an instrumental track that is slow and comparable to the Specials. Overall, I enjoy the ska vibe coming from this Canadian band. Small comment: at times, the vocals have a generic feel. On songs like “Tension,” the vocals have that low growl, losing-your-voice scream that almost any skinhead type of band tries to emulate when they sing. But, despite these tidbits, I still like this CD. –Jenny Moncayo (Steel Capped)


STREET BRATS:
See You at the Bottom: CD
Wow. Love this. Great, catchy energy and anger that I would expect from the brutal city of Chicago. And this delivers. Finally, punk rock and roll that doesn’t lose sight of the punk. Strong Clash/street punk influence but faster and more upbeat. And yeah, anger. Doesn’t lose energy as it moves along. My only criticism is the lack of variation in the songs. They seem to all have the same beat, and I think they’re capable of more. It’s definitely formulaic, but they do it well. I can tell these guys have been together for a while. A warning: the eighteen minutes of nonstop feedback on the hidden track at the end will have you clawing at your eyes! Turn the CD off immediately at the end to avoid risking loss of sight. A solid, worthwhile release. I’m gonna go listen to it again in my car. –KO! (Full Breach)


SPACE COWBOYS:
Dead End Streets & Devil’s Night: CD
More Swedes by way of the garage. Powerful, adrenaline-soaked, noisy, and distorted. Hellacopters and New Bomb Turks fans be aware. This is primed and ready to fire on all cylinders. A+. –Jessica Thiringer (Sonic Swirl)


SOVIET VALVES:
Sight That Harms/Gaze That Harms: 7” EP
From Perth, Australia, angular, but groove-locked pop in the vein of Wire with smart songwriting. Adventuresome but not tedious. Arty, but low on pretension. The bright and crisp guitar work reminds me of best of The Church. Actually, all four songs take me to a weird place of early ‘80s indie mope pop—a land choked with ruffly shirts, big hair, and bigger egos (Crowded House, Cure, early INXS)—but the Soviet Valves are on a punk steamroller twenty years hence. In their vision, only the catchiest of riffs and melodies are left standing while all the extraneous and weaker stuff is just flattened. I like it quite a bit. –Todd Taylor (Smartguy)


SONS OF CYRUS:
Rock&Rollercoaster: CD
Man, what did I do to deserve all the great review stuff this issue? Brother Retodd is welcome at the Cultural Ambassador’s dinner table any night of the week! Sons of Cyrus have an undeniable appreciation for Radio Birdman, most noticeably in their vocal stylings, though the Peepshows come to mind, too. The music varies from ‘60s-inspired tunes reminiscent of the Monkees and Woggles (“Switzerland” and “Running Too Slow”) to the aforementioned Birdman (“One of a Kind”) to a song that would please even the most diehard member of the Turbojugend (“Straight to Hell”). Track five, “Begging Me for More,” is the album’s triumph, a perfectly put together barn burner featuring the pitch perfect guest vocals of Alicja Trout. Rock&Rollercoaster makes me want to sprint around to the front of the line and take another ride. –Josh Benke (Big Brothel/ Dead Beat)


SONS OF CYRUS:
Monkey Business: CD
Another Swedish band I’ve been waiting to hear and with no disappointment. Fun, driving rock’n’roll that makes you think they’re in Detroit rather than Stockholm. Mixes covers of the Stones, Little Richard, and The Isley Brothers with solid originals. Wait, maybe they’re a new incarnation of The Sonics? That’s fair. One of those discs you grab when you are getting on the freeway and say, “Look, I don’t want to think about it. I just want to get there and have a good time doing it.” This is all their singles and comp tracks, everything the band has recorded besides their two full-lengths. –Speedway Randy (Dead Beat)


Social Combat:
Mail from Hell: CD
Spanish street punk band that covers Johnny Cash’s “Country Boy” and Rose Tattoo’s “Nice Boys Don’t Play R’n’R”—their hearts are in the right place. By-the-numbers stuff here. No complaints if you dig this genre. –greg (Step-1)


SNEAKY PINKS:
I Can’t Wait b/w Kill Kill Kill, Life Stoopid, I Stoopid: 7"
Word is that these guys are the Milli Vanilla of Tucson punk. They have a great live set, jump all over the place, and go nutty. The only difference between almost every other from-the-garage band you’ve seen is that it’s all synched. They don’t play a single note live. This, I assume, frees band members up to considerably more drinking and time to interact with the audience: two things that make going to a punk show fun. All this would be an interesting side note if the songs weren’t awesome on their own. Think the quirky, yet spot-on anxiety of M.O.T.O. and that balanced from-the-vaults but of the not-to-distant future feel of the Knockout Pills and you’ve hit it on the head. –Todd Taylor ($4, Rubber Vomit)


SMACKS, THE:
Protected by the Ejaculation of Serpents: CD
A two-man band on a art rock bender offer up twenty-seven tracks of minimalist skronk that’s better than one would expect. –Jimmy Alvarado (www.4dw.net/jtdoc)


SKIDS:
Scared to Dance: CD
Although a bit more obscure to the average contemporary punk/new wave enthusiast, the Skids enjoyed quite a bit of popularity at the dawn of the ‘80s, when their “Into the Valley” single was a hit on the British charts. Listening to this, their debut album, a quarter century later, it occurs to me that their quirky take on punk rock would’ve made barely a ripple if not for the considerable talents of Stuart Adamson, whose distinctive guitar style was a direct influence on U2’s the Edge, and was later put to great use in Adamson’s post-Skids band, Big Country, whose “In a Big Country” single was quite the U.S. hit in the early ‘80s. This is more than just a curio, however, as there are some interesting tunes to be found here, none of which easily fit in the stereotypical “punk” pigeonhole, but then again, that sense of experimentation is what made so much of the early punk output such a fun listen. –Jimmy Alvarado (Captain Oi)


SINALOA:
Footprints on Floorboards: CD
Did you know there is a font named Sinaloa? Also, there is a city named Sinaloa in Mexico. All that in one Yahoo search. Musically, this band has that sound of emo meets post punk that makes me want to download the font or find out facts about the city. –Donofthedead (Waking)


SIGNAL LOST:
You’ll Never Get Us Down Again: 7” EP
Articulate, strong-willed, female-fronted hardcore that effortlessly switches from singing to screaming and brings to mind such heavy hitters as France’s La Fraction. Although it’s not overt, there’s a definite love of 45 Grave overtone, too. When Ashley’s singing, it sounds like an opera in a graveyard that’s getting bombed: all the band members are pissed off, sound indestructible, and are ripping right through the rubble to attack the listener. Great stuff. –Todd Taylor (Prank)


SCURVY DOGS:
Relieve Yourself: 7” EP
The Scurvy Dogs play workmanlike hardcore punk that goes back to a time when geeks, misfits, socially awkward retards, drunks, and foreigners were on equal footing in the underground (the early ‘80s). They triangulate, roughly, between Vitamin X, Neos, and early DRI, and have reclaimed a nice corner of hardcore from the sports teams playing short hair metal masquerading as hardcore. They also cover a lot of ground in this EP, from French diplomacy, responsible drinking, and the social contract between hooker and pimp. Abrasive and cleansing, the Scurvy Dogs get the job done. –Todd Taylor (Kangaroo)


SCOTCH GREENS:
Professional: CD
In the same way The Pogues and The Dolomites (and even the Real McKenzies, if you want to stretch the analogy a bit) have built off the foundations of Irish and Scottish ballads, the Scotch Greens have done the same with American country. More rooted in bluegrass and country traditions (as opposed to, like, rawk) than bands like The Lazy Cowgirls and the Supersuckers, these guys have a pretty unique thing going on here. It’s generally urgent and up tempo and tight as shit, with galloping drums, banjo, and an occasional organ fighting for dominance over guitars that stay amped up in the double digits nearly the entire record. If you’re familiar with bands like Duck Duck Gray Duck and The Dickel Brothers then you’re in the ballpark; it’s just that the Scotch Greens are like the younger brother of those two groups, a kid who still loves the Misfits a little bit more than Merle Haggard, a kid who just can’t stop stepping on the distortion pedal and steadfastly refuses to acknowledge that people who wear duck’s ass haircuts and roll their cigarette packs into their shirtsleeves look silly. Liked this one a lot more than I thought I would. –Keith Rosson (DRT)


SCAT RAG BOOSTERS:
Self-titled: CD
Strong, bluesy swamp punk that stands smack dab in the middle of Poison 13, Billy Childish, and The Gun Club. –Jimmy Alvarado (Delta Pop)


SAINTS, THE:
Nothing Is Straight in My House: CD
Yeah, it’s not (I’m) Stranded. Yeah, it’s not Eternally Yours. Yeah, there’s only one original member. But it’s still Chris Bailey, and he still sounds like an eighteen-year-old spending his paycheck on whiskey and cigarettes. The music is fine; it’s not gonna burn your eyebrows off, but it’s pretty good. To me, though, he’s in a league with Joe Strummer and Phil Lynott—his voice is so good that he could sing over pretty much anything and I’d probably like it. I mean, this is the guy who sang “Messin’ with the Kid.” Cut him some slack. –Josh (UFO)


RUTS:
Grin and Bear It: CD
Sure, this, the reissue of a second album/compilation originally intended to serve as a tribute to their singer, who died of an overdose mere months prior to the album’s release, serves as a nice introduction to the band’s singular take on the punk/reggae knife-edge mined also by The Clash. The Ruts were one of the truly great bands to come out of the first three waves of British punk rock, and the fact that this contains solid versions, live and otherwise, of crucial tunes like “Staring at the Rude Boys,” “In a Rut,” “H Eyes” and “Babylon’s Burning,” only makes things sweeter. The REAL reason to go outta your way to pick this up, however, is the inclusion of the last three bonus tracks, “Stepping Bondage,” “Lobotomy,” and “Rich Bitch,” which comprise the very first recordings the band made in 1977, all three of which are grade-A slabs of Brit punk at its snottiest. –Jimmy Alvarado (Captain Oi)


ROMANS:
You Only Live Once: CD
One of the nice things about being a punker in Los Angeles is that there has never been a shortage of cool local bands, and any sort of auditory anarchy can be found within the county’s borders. Been that way as long as I can remember and some wicked cool bands have called L.A. home. Take the Romans: a supergroup of sorts, featuring personnel culled from the finest of Pasadena’s art punk bands, including Human Hands, Monitor, Bpeople, and others, who cranked out a nice chunk of punk and psychedelia-tinged surf music during the short window they were active in the early ‘80s. They managed to release a couple of albums and a few comp tracks before the band broke up and some of the members moved on to more celebrated bands like Green on Red and Mazzy Star. The bulk of the stuff here fits nicely in the “surf instrumental” pigeonhole, although there’s enough edge to it that the average punker should find most of the proceedings quite satisfying, especially when they get to the bonus tracks, some of which are straight-up art punk gems, and one of which would easily pass for a Monitor outtake. Although the fact that the band has long been overlooked is criminal, it is indeed wonderful that this sliver of L.A. punk’s history is again available. Some truly great stuff here. –Jimmy Alvarado (Warning Label)


REPORT SUSPICIOUS ACTIVITY:
USA: CD
A supergroup record of sorts, albeit a weird one. Comprised of Vic Bondi (Articles Of Faith, Jones Very) on guitar and the majority of the vocals, J. Robbins (Jawbox, Burning Airlines) on bass and backing vocals, and Darren Zentek (Kerosene 454) on drums, the concept itself of Report Suspicious Activity seems pretty dubious. A one-shot record made up of Vic Bondi and two dudes from mediocre-at-best “post punk” bands? And they play fifteen songs that are totally and unabashedly critical of the U.S. Government? Um, suuuure. It might work. But the thing is, I actually think they manage to pull it off pretty decently. About three-quarters of the record is riff-heavy and occasionally repetitive tunes with Bondi behind the mike. The other quarter is made up of what I assume to be Robbins’s influence; mid-tempo rock songs replete with “wocka-wocka” guitar lines and layered vocals, and the occasional piano. Sometimes it really works, sometimes it doesn’t. But what mostly saves this, for me, is Bondi’s awesome and pointed rage in these lyrics. When he bellows, “Don’t wait for the draft to start crying. You ought to be howling. All over the world they are dying for gas at three bucks a gallon. For Tivos in bunkers. Humvees at gun shows. We’ll measure convenience with the bodies of our sons and daughters. I’m not over the hill—you’re under it,” it’s done with such a fucking electrifying delivery that I’m willing to forgive certain things, like Robbins’s castrated and “smoothed-out” production and the occasionally plodding tune here and there. It’s refreshing to hear something like this from Bondi, who’s probably old enough to be my dad and has managed to release an album that’s possibly as cathartic for me to hear (or at least read) as it was for him to write. For every ass-patched and bullet-belted band that has the gumption to put some “skullfaced soldier standing in a field of bodies” illustration or some shittily xeroxed photo from some foreign massacre on their album cover, and then see how may times they can rhyme “war,” “more,” “poor,” and “score” on one 7”, maybe they should take a shot at lending themselves some credibility and try writing lyrics as good as this. –Keith Rosson (Alternative Tentacles)


REGULATIONS:
Electric Guitar: CD
Hey kids, ever wonder what it must’ve felt like to be a punker back there in the adolescent heyday of the early ‘80s, back when snotty little punk rock started to sprout whiskers and grow some angry, lean muscles? Well, now you can go back to those heady days of the Masque and the MabuhayGardens and party like it’s 1982. And, best of all, you don’t need to strap on some hair-dryer/space helmet gizmo with antennas, nor do you have to be some egghead physicist with a neocortex full of math and string theory to do it. Just run on over to your nearest Ma & Pop punk rock record store and pick up all the Regulations recordings you can get your hands on. Electric Guitar might be the best bang for your buck since, along with seven brand new tracks, it includes the songs from their first two seven-inchers. But get whatever Regulations you can and then go home and play it as loud as you can while you throw yourself around the room like Darby Crash on a bender. It’s a far better high than the “space monkey” or whatever you call it and if you get really out there, it might start to seem like you’re actually at an Angry Samoans or Circle Jerks or Reagan Youth show back in the days of yore. You might even start to think that there’s a dimwitted Republican President in office again and that he’s doing righteous battle with some Middle Eastern, America-hating madman. But don’t worry too much about that. You gotta take the good with the bad with this time travel stuff and the Regulations are so amazingly good it makes suffering the idiot parade almost seem worth it. –aphid (Havoc)


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