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· 1:D4th of July at The Triple Rock on July 4, 2015
· 2:Webcomic Wednesdays #133
· 3:Hello Shitty People Top Shelf Interview Podcast
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· 5:Webcomic Wednesday #134


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Record Reviews

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DEFEATED, THE:
Asbury Cocksucker: 7”
Oh, man. This record is unreal. It’s one of those rare recordings that stays with you days after you’ve listened to it, like an unfinished letter, a mirage swimming in the distance, the answer to a trivia question just below the surface of your consciousness, until you find yourself back at the record player, dipping the needle into the grooves, filling the house with sound. I can honestly say this: it’s like nothing I’ve ever heard before. Oh, man. –jim (S&M)


DEATH THREAT:
For God & Government: CD
Not to be confused with the other Deathreat. This Death Threat is polished NYHC (although they hail from Connecticut). I’m not really a fan of this style. But I imagine those who like this genre will dig it. Breakdowns, rhythmic bridges, anthem back up vocals, chunky rhythms, and chugga-chugga guitar. –Matt Average (Triple Crown)


DEAD SERIOUS / DIEHARD YOUTH :
split: CD
Dead Serious: East Coast sounding punk rock that is currently labeled hardcore but more in the ‘88 vein. Heavy on the metal and attitude. I like the snottiness of the singer who doesn’t try to sound guttural. Diehard Youth: Lyrics that are on the posi-core tip. Similar to Dead Serious in sound except the guitar is definitely thin. So that makes them sound more straightforward. Worth it alone on hearing two bands I haven’t heard of before. –Donofthedead (Thorp)


DAN MELCHIOR’S BROKE REVUE :
Heavy Dirt: CD
Two guys from England and two from Florida live in New York and make joyful, sloppy garage blues with hints of thee Headcoats and the Country Teasers. Dan’s voice and accent drool charm and there’s no shortage of harmonica or slide guitar. I find myself repeatedly compelled to double-play the anthemic “Fashion,” with its Zeppelinia and deadpan girl backups, but you’ll undoubtedly find a favorite of your own. Unless you’re stupid. You’re not stupid, are you? –Cuss Baxter (In The Red)


D4, THE :
Rock’n’roll Motherfucker b/w Running on Empty: 7”
Please don’t confuse this band with Dillinger Four. This is a New Zealand punk’n’roll band. Although not awful, they’re shamefully standard bar rock that speed dials rock’n’roll cliché after cliché. Say, for the sake of argument, that you had a dog that represented all of rock. This band would be like a single, short, shed hair left behind in the dog bowl. And it’s not a particularly interesting hair at that. Turbonegro would poop on them. –Todd Taylor (SDZ)


CZOLGOSZ:
self-titled: 7”
Here are five solid-but-sloppy, political punk songs that all sound like they’d fit perfectly in the old MRR hardcore comp, Not So Quite on the Western Front. And you can’t beat a band named after a guy who shot the president of the United States. All hail Czolgosz! –Sean Carswell (Rodent Popsicle)


CURSE, THE:
six-song demo: CD
Holy shit, this rules! These guys are from my city (Philadelphia) and I’ve watched them grow into a great band over the last six months. This demo is a great representation of their capabilities. If you like blazing melodic hardcore (NOT like the kind that Fat or Epitaph usually put out) then you will absolutely love this. The Curse’s music contains elements of classic eighties hardcore, and some more mid-tempo (dare I say) streetpunk influences as well. The singer’s voice sounds like he swallowed nails, while still retaining some melody throughout. The vocals come at you relentlessly, barely pausing for breath. There are even hints of a Hot Water Music vocal influence in one of the breakdowns. The musicianship is tight and dead on, and the recording is top-notch. This totally crushes my puny little head, but I keep listening to it over and over (and over) anyway. Also, the lyrics are super smart and deal with subjects like religious school indoctrination and fighting the 9 to 5 workday paralysis. Get this. –Yemin –Guest Contributor (the Curse)


CURLUPANDDIE:
Unfortunately We’re Not Robots: CD
I’m going to sum this up real quick by saying that this is like mixing Blood Hag with SOD having song titles like Dillinger 4. One song is broken into four tracks to emphasize each lyric. These fuckers are clever! Brutal metal and thrash that goes a long way for this reviewer. –Donofthedead (Revelation)


CURBS, THE:
Fast Tracks to Oblivion: CD
Try as I may, all I can think of while this disc plays is “J-Church on speed.” That is by no means a compliment. –Jimmy Alvarado (Braindart)


C*NTS, THE:
Oh No It’s the C*nts: CD
Man, the cover is beautiful: kid in dress and monster mask stands next to upright beaver. Inside, there’s a mess of songs that make just about as much sense: “I Was Born in a Crack House,” “I Live in a Tree,” “I’ve Got Problems I Can’t Explain,” “I Can Run Like You,” and so forth. It’s sorta like if the Angry Samoans hadn’t sucked so much when they started to suck. Anyway, it’s always nice to hear a band that sounds like they’re just having fun, rather than trying to be something that they’re not. –Cuss Baxter (Disturbing)


CUB COUNTRY:
High Uinta High: CD
Indie rockers playing “country music” reeks of bullshit. –Matt Average (Jade Tree)


CRYPT KICKERS/ THE PLAIN CLOTHES CREEP STRING TRIO/ THE PINE HALL HAINTS :
Tales from the Front Porch: 3-way split LP
Three down-home, acoustic bands play songs of old with hearts a-new. The Crypt Kickers: See their review adjacent to this one for the full report. More revved-up ghoulish good shit with titles like “Walkin’, Talkin’ Dead Man,” “Grave Diggin’ 101,” and a cover of “Snoopy Vs. the Red Baron.” The Pine Hall Haints: Utilize the spookiness of playing the saw, like a cartoon ghost, that fills the background. Solely snare drum, acoustic guitar, and voice accompany it. Makes one realize that the years before the proliferation of TV, that families would sit down with bits and pieces of instruments and play the hell out ‘em in a way that was both ethereal and gritty. Real enjoyable. The Plain Clothes Creep String Trio: Banjo, washtub bass, and doleful lamentations. In the best way, they sound like three miscreants at a corner store playin’ their hearts out just to release the pressure building up in their fingers and heads. It’s hard not to slap the knee along with their tunes. Three-ways good. –Todd Taylor (Arkam’s Black Owl)


CRYPT KICKERS, THE:
Lamentations of the Living Dead: CD
Putting the harm back in harmonica. Putting unmarked liquor in big jugs. Picture alcoholic zombies who can play better blind drunk who don’t want to get off your porch at 4 AM and after punching your front lights out, asking why it’s so dark, then burning their fingers from keeping their lighters flicked. Yeah, it’s lo-fi, but perfectly so. What’s captured is a clear polaroid snapshot of a wonderfully fucked up situation. Picture sea shanty pirates singing dirges in pickup trucks bouncing down a dusty Alabama road… and the passenger falls out, finds some instruments, and continues to play like it’s the most natural thing – to play absolutely broken as easily as the blood gushing from his head. Excellent. –Todd Taylor (Nation of Kids)


CROWD, THE:
Punk Off: CD
You may already know the Crowd from the fucking genius Beach Blvd comp from way back when in 1979, (by the way, that comp might just be the best comp of all time!). Total southern California beach punks, straight from Huntington Beach! Catchy early eighties poppy punk with just the perfect tiny mix of early eighties hardcore. So, I know what you’re thinking, “Sounds great, Maddy, but I’m SURE they totally stink NOW! What are they, dude, like eighty years old?” For the record, I firmly believe that the Sex Pistols reunion sucked. The Buzzcocks new LPs suck. If the Clash ever reunited, that would probably suck, too. But this, this is so damn good! This album doesn’t sound at all like an old band trying to milk what they were doin’ years ago! This sounds new! Great! Exciting! Full of energy, harmonies, punk rock, and a manic whirl of great surf-punk! The perfect album for a summer full of fun! If this were a cereal, it’d be Honey Nut Cheerios – it’s been around for about the same amount of time as the Crowd, and it’s still as good as ever – seriously! –Maddy (Unity Squad)


CRIMSON SWEET:
So Electric: 7”
Quite the rockin’ three piece from NYC that can stir up a fuzzy, sonic hum spinning round and round, but aren’t afraid to be melodic at the same time. Dale like. Definitely a band I would catch live and from reading here, they have a few more things out to listen to. Right on. Take a spin with this one, dear Razorcakers, but keep both yer hands on the wheel. –Designated Dale (Slow Gold Zebra)


CONSUMERS, THE:
All My Friends Are Dead: CD
Not much seems to be readily known about this ‘77 Phoenix punk combo. There were a couple mentions about them in the July 1978 issue of Slash. They eventually relocated to LA and fell in with the Canterbury clique. After that, who knows? Is this the same Paul Cutler who went on to 45 Grave? The music the Consumers left behind is great. There’s definitely a UK influence, even in the vocals with their fake British accent. Hyper and jumpy with nervous rhythms. The guitar sounds scratchy and filthy, like he’s scraping a tin can across the strings! –Matt Average (In The Red)


COMBAT WOUNDED VETERAN:
Duck Down for the Torso: CDEP
It’s as much feel – the tones of the instruments – as much as how they’re played, flayed, and serrated. Only those with brave ears need apply. The first three songs plong out like an intergalactic meatloaf; they grind up big, thick slabs of sound, slather and stew it in a blood red sauce, choke it with pepper and sonic voodoo spices, and have it clog and chog in their colons for about a month. The music’s all chunky, splattering, heavy, and intentionally irritating. It’s hard artcore that ice skates through sludge – somehow remaining crisp in the morass. Fans of Kylesa, Tragedy, Men’s Recovery Project, the movie Brazil, or a good old-fashioned ear-whooping won’t be disappointed. The fourth song, “Folded Space: Mapping Unexploded Ordinance,” is a monologue by a robotic voice backed by dying seagull synthesizers – that I suspect is chock full of subliminal messages – about a mega battle (and eventual triumph) against giant squids, destructive floods, dying so many times that the narrator finds it tedious, and the power of a smile at the end of the day. As a post script, I finally figured out where they got their name. In Florida, they have license plates with Combat Wounded Veteran stamped into the metal. We can close the book on that mystery. –Todd Taylor (No Idea)


CODE, THE:
Alert Aware Involved: CD

The differences between this band and bands I like are subtle. But where Anti-Flag is angry and wild, The Code are precise, and where The Foamers are reckless and fun, this quintet from X strike me as squeaky clean. If there is such a thing as being too on the nose, The Code are it. Not bad, but they’re late for the party. Five years too late.

–jim (A-F)


CLONE DEFECTS:
Blood on Jupiter: CD
You can tell by the thunderous introductory Japanese drums (Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai sample?) that this album is going to change the status quo – not a mere pretty faux marble finish here, but an all out wrecking balls to the wall deconstruction of all present day conventions in rock’n’roll. The Clone Defects hail from the Detroit scene but enough of the waxing rhetoric on the regional proto-punk influences (everybody’s pimply brother and gay dad has to cite the MC5 and The Stooges as their inspiration these days. Heck it’s just damn good rock’n’roll for misfit punks, not some flowery review composed by some sweater wearing college boy with a vinyl fetish! So, in honor of my homosexual father, I will NOT compare the Clone Defects to the aforementioned bands, thank you.) Clone Defects have done much damage to many ears in the Midwest during the Horizontal Action Blackout shows, where they stole the show with singer Timmy Vulgar’s drunken rock icon-in-the-making antics and the band’s trademark disaster-core art punk. The title song throttles one over to the other side of the room while this writer finds it as inspiring as speedtrap sex on the 134 over the hills of La Canada. There’s a dire urgency in the music along with a frayed and decayed moral sentiment from this band and it lends a perfect disenfranchised aura to an already fucked up world. If you’re a fucked up fucker who’s been fucked with, fucked, and fucked over, fuck this fucking shit and buy the album. You’ll be heartened to find a band that translates all your frustrations into a solid CD full of that vitriol and seething anger encapsulated into a three minute punk rock song. Clone Defects also slow it down a bit so you can reflect on all the shit and piss that’s been shat and pist on you by life. At times, it’s reminiscent of the Gun Club, other times it’s like a Hank Williams 78 played on 33, coming off bad speed. Besides, isn’t that why we are punk rockers anyway? Enough of all the pretty punk shit going around – life sucks, I’m ugly, poor, uneducated and criminally insane, get me this album! P.S. Nods for the Berlin Brats cover. Killed By What? –Namella J. Kim (Tom Perkins)


CIRIL:
self-titled: CD
What we have here is a pissed-off band that at first reminds me of what I loved about traditional LA punk. I definitely hear some early Black Flag and D.I. influence. Then I got to the third song, which is more loosely structured and really creepy, while still being really aggressive and engaging. It reminds me of some of the more art-oriented bands featured in the Decline of Western Civilization. The remainder of the album vacillates between these two styles. I definitely get a nostalgic feel from this record. Even the production gives me this vibe, especially in current times, when every record I hear sounds like it was recorded at the same studio. The layout and artwork look like these guys just don’t give a fuck, but I mean this in a good way, as in “we don’t give a fuck what you think!” The song lyrics are scrawled in between really odd and sometimes scary drawings of anguish, death, despair, and alienation in various forms. This is good… -Yemin –Guest Contributor (Know)


CHRONICS, THE:
It’s Too Late: LP
Really great ‘78 or ‘79 style punk rock and roll! Think: The Real Kids, Pagans, Dickies, Stiv Bators. These songs keep getting stuck in my head and I go around all day trying to think of what band it is, thinking it’s some late seventies group, and then I remember, it’s the Chronics! All right! I’m pretty sure they’re from Sweden, too, and we all know that Scandinavian bands can rock (see Turbonegro)! If this were a cereal, it’d be Fruit Loops! Yum! –Maddy (Demolition Derby)


CHICKS WITH DICKS:
The Portable Rock: CDEP
Maybe I don’t know what I am talking about, but wasn’t “Chicks with Dicks” the original name of the Lunachicks? In any case, I doubt that these guys (and I mean male guys) are making a comparison to the famed gal punk outfit. Tip for bands – magazines like this have many reviewers and we don’t all memorize each other’s writing, so putting a note on the CD saying, “Maybe you don’t dislike our second CD as much as the first one” might only start you off with the reviewer expecting to dislike it. Mid tempo, well played but mediocre pop rock. Of four songs, one reminds me of a poorly reworked Weezer tune and another of the Cure-inspired song Adam Sandler sings in Wedding Singer. –rich (One Take)


CHERRY THIRTEEN:
Guilty As Sin: CD
I am going to be as honest as I fucking can be here. Now, as I listened to this, I thought to myself, “Shit, man, two words – Electric Frankenstein.” Well, it’s no wonder. I come to find out on the disc insert that Steve Miller is fronting this band, and if it’s the same Steve Miller that sings/sang with EF, my instinct was right. By the way, the above band comparisons aren’t a compliment. Fuck me for having an opinion. –Designated Dale (Twenty Stone Blatt)


CHE CHAPTER 127:
Profit Prophet: CD
Leftist heavy metal. It was bound to happen sooner or later. –Jimmy Alvarado (G7 Welcoming Committee)


CAPITOL CITY DUSTERS, THE:
Rock Creed: CD
Somewhere in WashingtonD.C. there are, presumably, a handful of girls related to, or even worse, romantically involved with, some or all of the members of The Capitol City Dusters, dreading the next gig. I feel their pain. At least I did for 41 minutes and 30 seconds. What you need to know: “I’ve got the heart of a revolutionary, but I’m singing like a yellow canary.” File this under “For those who forgot to rock” and steer clear. –jim (Dischord)


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