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Record Reviews

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Below are some recently posted reviews.

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Self-titled: 7”
If hardcore bands were math equations, Reality Returns would be like the Pythagorean Theorem. They’re a relatively straightforward formula of heavy mid-tempo riffs, plus crew vocals, plus breakdowns, divided by five members. While I can credit the band for doing their homework, I found this too derivative to give it a passing grade.  –Paul J. Comeau (Take It Back, takeitbackrecords@gmail.com)

“Hoist a New Flag” b/w “The Way Things Are”: 7”
Ratchets fans are still waiting for a true comeback, but until then, this surprising 7” of two unreleased songs recorded seven years ago is a big time treat. Reminiscent of Reducers SF, this band gained quick notoriety with their unmistakable, extremely catchy middle tempo streetpunk. I’m not sure why it took so long for these instantly lovable tunes to get released, but kudos to Pirates Press for putting them out. As is always the case with the label, the record looks amazing, too, pressed on beautiful marbled vinyl. The Ratchets really need to return with a new album. It’s time for a ratcheting up for the Ratchets!  –Art Ettinger (Pirates Press)

Two Teeth / Ratbite It, You Scum: CD
So this one’s got a really interesting story behind it: there are two bands on opposite sides of the world with the same name playing similar styles. They found each other and decided to release their music together. One hails form the U.S. The other hails from the Ukraine. Why the hell not, right? This is a pretty good split. Both sides feel like ‘90s punk with a healthy mix of thrash. Think NOFX with a pinch of Municipal Waste sprinkled in. The American Ratbite is a little less traditional with songs being a little more complex than the Ratbite from Ukraine. I liked the vocals better on the Ukraine side; they were screamed more than U.S. Ratbite, giving it some more power. Both Ratbites are great, each putting their own spin on punk and creating a mass of bleeding, festering ratbites for your ears.  –James Meier (Suburban, suburbanwhitetrashrecords.com)

Self-titled: 7”EP
When I was a kid growing up in the ‘70s, I loved action movies and television because they made me feel, by proxy, superhuman by just watching them. They filled me with a feeling of invincibility and raw, ragged potential; overwhelming odds overcome, opponents bested, scars left. Radioactivity’s songs make me feel that way as a stupid adult addicted to vinyl records. There’s just so much instantaneously emanating from these songs. Not only is there blasting punk jet-engine thrust, but x-ray subatomic particles colliding and syringes injecting. Head almost explodes from sheer joy. DNA gets scrambled. The entire room glows with a weird, catchy, green throbbing power coming off a mere circling black disc. Just so it’s on record—projects that involve Jeff Burke and/or Mark Ryan—Marked Men, Mind Spiders, Potential Johns—just buy them. It’s a quality of life issue.  –Todd Taylor (Alien Snatch, aliensnatch.de)

Self-titled: LP
The Marked Men blew me away one fateful night when I decided to catch them at the Smell in downtown L.A., going on nothing but a hunch and some encouraging record/live show reviews. Soon thereafter I came upon the Potential Johns blaring through RazorcakeHQ’s speakers, resulting in me desperately seeking their split with the Chinese Telephones like my name was Susan. Ghostsdropped and I was in heaven: that was until Marked Men went on an “important shows only” hiatus. You can’t keep a band of amazing musicians down for long and that’s why the Mind Spiders and Low Culture came to fruition. Not even a month after the third Mind Spiders album comes out and I’m already hearing from family and good friends alike: “Dude, have you streamed that Radioactivity album yet?” Modern technology has a long history of betraying my expectations. I did not stream the album and decided to gamble on either finding myself pleasantly surprised or painfully disappointed. I ordered the album blindly. After all, I’ve since bought any and all Marked Men-related material and have yet to be let down. Soon after the needle dropped on Radioactivity’s new album a smile came upon my face. The kind of smile that only appears when you find out that special girl/boy doesn’t think you’re a complete loser and accepts your date invitation. Or the joy you feel of complete record nerd satisfaction knowing that you are one of only two hundred lucky ducks who now own a copy on yellow vinyl. The first time I heard Singles Going Steady by the Buzzcocks I was convinced it was the holy grail of pop punk albums. That was until I realized it wasn’t just a clever title but not an album at all. I’m sure a lot of bands struggle with choosing the perfect song to lead off a full length but how difficult must it have been for Radioactivity, being that every single song could lead off this masterpiece of an album. It’s been a while since I could honestly say that an album is absolutely flawless. I’m proud to announce that this album sets forth a new standard of quality in the pop punk genre which will surely be a tough act to follow once this album’s legacy is settled. Highest possible recommendation unless you hate good music.  –Juan Espinosa (Dirtnap)

Uzaleznieni: LP
This is some pretty cool and dark Polish punk coming on a lot like a mix of His Hero Is Gone and early Bad Religion. There are traces of post punk and maybe goth in places, but this is mostly in the hardcore punk realm. Really nice package with full-color insert and high quality recording and mastering. Fans of international dark punk will want to be all over this band.  –Mike Frame (Trujaca Fala, trujacafala.com)

Fine Young Animals: 12” EP
One tamale and beans/rice slapped in the microwave. Halfway through the small plate of food and the first side of the LP is finished. My mouth hole is coated in porky masa deliciousness and my ear holes are smiling wide from the punk rock goodness that just flew from the speakers. In my mind I’ve imagined Fid mid-leap, Cassady belting it out, Joel plonking away at the bass (it has a fantastic distinguishable sound in the mix), and Mikey sweating out the frantic beat. Flip the record, finish the tamale lunch, same results. Punk pop from the heart from pure pedigree players (Measure [SA], Sexy Crimes, The Ergs). They’ll give you one of the best twenty-five minute sets, drink all the beer, sleep on your couch, and watch the Simpsons until dawn. Quiero mas y quieres mas tambien.  –Matt Seward (Psychic Volt, psychicvolt.com)

The Pain and the…: LP
The Pinkerton Thugs have been making thinking-man’s street punk for almost twenty years now. Their music isn’t flashy. Their album art isn’t flashy. Hell, nothing they do is particularly flashy, which is only a problem because it may be why I haven’t really taken the time to listen to them until now. Then again, it’s their lack of flash that makes them what they are. It’s their roll-the-sleeves up and just fucking rock approach that makes them worth listening to, and if it takes a bit too long for some nerds like me to catch on, then so be it. They’ll keep doing their thing, and if you don’t listen, then it’s your loss.  –MP Johnson (Jailhouse)

Greedy Heart: LP
I see what these guys are going for, some kind of post-whatever new wave art rock, but it’s not happening for me. Wandering drums and atonal guitars drown in psychedelic effects while a vocalist with a grudge against the natural cadence of human speech sort of talks indifferently about arty things. Occasionally, there’s some mildly engaging synth weirdness. I get the feeling that this is supposed to offend my pop sensibilities, but I’m left feeling as bored as this guy sounds. There must be people who live and die by this kind of music, but I don’t see the point.  –Indiana Laub (Skrot Up, skrotup@yahoo.com, skrotup.com)

Gaffe: 10”
Unh. Hell yes. Exactly the filthy, off-kilter, pissed-off result I was expecting from Dave Unsane and producer Andrew Schneider (Cave In, Converge, etc). Certainly in the Unsane world, with more quirky Melvins-esque swagger and a seriously mesmerizing rhythm section. Often reminiscent of Tomahawk’s first record, as well. Heavy, just weird enough, and way dirty. Rad.  –Dave Williams (Coextinction/Solar Flare)

Self-titled: 7”
Three songs of atonal, sloppily performed garage punk in the reckless spirit of riot grrrl. The Coat Hangers do it much, much better.  –Juan Espinosa (Goner)

Secret Songs: LP
As of late, there’s been a saturation of pop rock nostalgia and garage punk that’s been heralded by the likes of King Tuff, Ty Segall, and FIDLAR. Nobunny, although often lumped in with the unwashed denim jacket masses, should not be overlooked as he is able to adeptly own every borrowed sound. Since Love Visions, Nobunny (the alter ego of Justin Champlin) has been self-assured with a flair for theatrics through Rocky Horror Picture Show-esque sexuality and Andy Kaufman pranksterism. Secret Songs is no exception. Every new tune reinvents and dials into the sounds of the Ramones, the Kinks, classic rock’n’roll, and obscure ‘50s pop groups. Nobunny’s reverence grants his songs a memorable and timeless quality, yet Champlin also imbues them with raw urgency, tongue-in-cheek perversion, and various forms of playful depravity—the sort of stuff Buddy Holly never sang about. The production is pleasantly grainy and in no way sounds like cover-up for shoddy musicianship. After you pick up the record, go see ‘em live and get all sorts of weird.  –Sean Arenas (Goner, goner-records.com, gonerrecords@gmail.com)

Beach Bathroom Bingo: 7”
Ripping new single from this Ventura band! Taking back the California sound from the Swedes who’ve been routinely showing us up the last decade. A little T.S.O.L., a little Bronx, a little Wipers, a lot of fucking attitude, and dripping with a grim individuality. Two mid-tempo stompers, driven hard by all down-strummed guitars and solid, thick-sounding drums. Filed right alongside No Problem and Night Birds (and incidentally, the letter “n”) in the “there’s still hope for punk” category. My Technics will be getting to know this record intimately.  –Chad Williams (1859, 1859Records@gmail.com, 1859records.bandcamp.com / Different Kitchen, differentkitchenrecords.bandcamp.com)

Bad Patterns: LP
There are several modes to Muscle Shoals, Alabama’s Nightmare Boyzzz, all of them enjoyable. The mellow burners sound akin to the sunshine-pop of Thee Makeout Party and Audacity, if those dudes were bikers (like stylish, mechanic-smart Rat Fink bikers; not kill-you, nasty-drug-habit, stab-you bikers). The faster songs are reminiscent of Love Songs for the Retarded-era Queers. (A record I have a soft spot for.) Think Beach Boys for deviants with bad tattoos, unafraid of dirty public bathroom sex. In song. So fuckin’ catchy. With repeated listens, there are microbes on the cutting board at this picnic—Big Star, T Rex, and Rise Up Howlin’ Werewolf are all minced and condimented on top of a hot dog. The catsup even spells “fuck yeah!”  –Todd Taylor (Slovenly)

Invisible Magnetic: LP
These kids take their cues from post-punk’s groovier wing, with nods to bands like Kleenex and Delta 5 mixed with tribal rhythms, hints of funk, minimalist pop, drone, and so on delivered via some interesting instrumentation—they could totally be synth-generated, but I’m hearing prodigious use of a melodica, violins, clarinets, and a host of other instruments one usually doesn’t come across in a good way in rock-oriented music. The tunes themselves are engaging, creative and, in the case of “Complete,” quite the effective earworm. Nice to hear a band working outside the usual boxes with great results.  –Jimmy Alvarado (Cloud Recordings)

Self-titled: 2 x LP
Wipers-by-way-of-Estranged darkened punk. When the male/female vocals wail simultaneously, it’s pure magic. And the songs on their own blister and sulk in some of the best shadows of punk’s torrid bleakness. But getting a three-sided double LP that plays at 45 is kind of a bummer. And while it doesn’t feel right to dwell on that, these are some desperate songs, and I really wanna believe in it. Records are a luxury; let’s not get too decadent.  –Daryl Gussin (Let’s Pretend)

Difficult: LP
Nah is a one-man band featuring drums run through effects and layered with washes of noise. The A-side focuses more on the drums and has a driving, kraut rock feel, while the B-side is more about the noise, with intermittent drums. The whole thing has an air of excitement and drive. If you told me I’d have this much fun listening to an album where the main instrument is distorted drums, I’d be shocked.  –Chris Terry (ranchjams.blogspot.com)

Self-titled: 12” EP
This is a gorgeous picture disk 12” proudly displayed in a clear vinyl sleeve. Both sides feature artwork by guitarist Fritz Aragon. The playing side depicts a young girl opening her bisected head, like a Russian nesting doll, revealing a dark spiral behind her face. The backside is adorned with a speckled toppling cathedral. Tonally, Moxie Beat delivers the same sort of brooding introspection as both images. The band is reminiscent of members’ previous projects like RogueState, Dogs Of Ire, and Restrained. It’s hardcore with a dramatic edge. With dueling bassists and fractured—but melodic—riffs, Moxie Beat pummels through four songs without ever plummeting into an aural mess. The rhythm section sputters and spurts with technical flair never satisfied with simply sprinting to the finish line. Instead, each song is hulking and anguished, lingering on each abrasive facet. The whole package (the songs, the large foldout poster, the artwork) fits together nicely—a testament to the elbow grease involved in DIY punk. A must-have from one of SoCal’s finest—and loudest.  –Sean Arenas (Ethospine, ethospine.com, ethospine@gmail.com / Vitriol, vitriolrecords.com, jason@graforlock.com)

Self-titled: 7”EP
Moving Finger’s debut EP is what you’d might expect from Goner. This 7” is pure stoney-psych-rock’n’roll goodness draped with echoey vocals and plenty of reverb with songs “Smokin’ the Crack of Dawn” and “Tres Dolares.” “P.O.W./ M.I.A” is a strange and catchy punk-as-shit song, keeping it short and sweet. Always leave them wanting more right? What’s not to like?  –Camylle Reynolds (Goner)

Generic Treasure: LP
Everyone knows That Guy. He’s the dude at the party who knows a few chords and is quick enough on his feet to write clever little ditties on the spot. The frustrating thing about him is that the jokes present in That Guy Songs could be way better with a bit of refinement, but in That Guy’s head charm and wit trump practice and songwriting, and he inevitably winds up a frustrated insurance salesman a few years down the road. Despite the “lonely weird dude with a guitar” aura that emanates from this record from the get-go, Modern Hut manages to dodge all of the common That Guy symptoms. These song don’t rely on easy rhymes or turns—there’s craft here, as the singer tells tales of organs snipped from bodies in his lonely voice, usually with just a guitar as accompaniment (though Marissa from Screaming Females lends her unmistakable vocals to one of these). What could have been just another dweeb driving people from the kitchen of a house party turns out to be one of the best records I got for review this month.  –Michael T. Fournier (Don Giovanni)

Inhumanistic: LP/CD
Part solitary scientist/astronaut, part alien, The Mind Spiders are at it again, deep in space, further into your brain. Part of the equation is “scientist trapped in an airless, antiseptic capsule.” A reflection bounces off of concentrating eyes behind glasses: oscilloscopes, charts, and endless danger equations. Loneliness. Exile in the search for meaning. The ultimate, dark “outside”-slash-outsider staring into the distorting, reflective maw of another freeze-dried dinner; completely, totally serrated from meaningful human contact. Under his microscope and displayed by a light projector on the interior wall of his space station are multi-legged critters, small as individual music notes. Spiders of sound. They thrive in voids, they eat the inedible. They make noise. They are legion, nearly invisible, ubiquitous, existing where nothing has a right to live. Harvested in Mark Ryan’s net of science and art, examined, he manipulates them into both beautiful and haunting orchestrations. Unearthly. Inhumanistic. Hail the void.  –Todd Taylor (Dirtnap)

We Were D.O.A.: 7”
Solo effort from Sacramento area rock and roll personality Matt K. Shrugg (he of the bands Th’Losin Streaks, the Pizzas, and plenty of others) who wrote, recorded, and played all four tunes on this here slab o’wax all by his lonesome. He does it quite well. Peppy, poppy garage-informed punk rock with multiple layers to peel back, there’s a lot to take in on these four tunes, each a little different from the last. The commonalities are the smooth, effortless vocals, expert level jamming, and full, rich sounds he squeezes out of the lo-fi production. This sounds like he is having tons of fun and like it would be tons of fun to watch live with a full band.  –Jeff Proctor (Tic Tac Totally)

All Night Scan!: LP
Always thought the mods were twats back in the day; sure, punk might not have been the open-ended coalition of free-thinking individualists we all said it was, but at least punk kinda rewarded novel ((i.e., goofy)) solutions to shit, whereas mod was more like some ready-made fashion craze for U.S. proto-alterna-teens and/or something more like a classic car club than a vital subcultural hoop-de-do. That said, I have no idea how this band ((est. San Diego, 1981)) completely flew under my radar for thirty-two years; I completely do not remember ever even hearing their name, ever, before this album dropped out of some Lichtensteinian aircraft into my lap. Shame, really—the band is pretty dang good and the recordings sound great, especially given how pancake-y records sounded back in the first half of the ‘80s. It’s really hard to believe Bomp didn’t wind up marketing these guys as an American Barracudas ((roll that around in your mind for a while)), or Slash didn’t give them a tumble when they were churning out those Rank & File and Dream Syndicate albums, or Restless didn’t dump their records at all the college stations in 1987 or whatever. Go figure. The band definitely has that ‘60s-filtered-thru-the-’80s sound ((see also; The Last, The Barracudas, The Fleshtones, The Unknowns, and all like that)) and cover the Pretty Things, so twats, I venture, they ain’t. BEST SONG: I’m gonna say “New Difference” but I bet most of you ham and eggers will say “Plan of Action.” BEST SONG TITLE: “She Said It’s Late.” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: Peter Beckett, who played guitar for the Thoughts, who were the band who originally released the Ray Davies-penned song “All Night Stand,” covered here, moved to California and scored one of the more annoying #1 hits in America with the band Player, whose song “Baby Come Back” topped the charts in 1978. I’d imagine the casual reader didn’t quite expect the Player/Manual Scan connection to be declared so abruptly.  –Rev. Norb (Cheap Rewards, cheaprewards.net)

Formaldehyde: 7”
You know those times—everyone has them—when you just can’t get into new music? I hit a spell of that this summer-into-Fall. Just nothing doing anything for me. This ended the day I received a package of Lovesores records in the mail, ended with a hard slap in the mouth for my piss-poor attitude. The Lovesores are the current outfit of Scott “Deluxe” Drake. The man is rock’n’roll royalty in my house. Drake’s curriculum vitae is long and storied, his most notable outfit being The Humpers of course (let’s line up the rest of ‘em: Vice Principals, World’s Strongest Men, Suicide Kings, Fabulous Prizes [did they ever put out any wax before morphing into The Vice Principals?] If anyone at Razorcake HQ knows, get in touch! Designated Dale, I’m looking at you...). The Humpers have been one of my favorite bands for almost twenty years. That is scary to think about as I write it, but it’s true. Anyway, Formaldehydeis The Lovesores current release, but I gotta heap praise on the whole of their output. I hadn’t heard a Scott Drake release since 2009’s Beneath the Bloodshot Lights EP. I’ve been eagerly waiting for his next record to drop, but through my own ignorance I nearly missed The Lovesores 10” from earlier this year and the two-song 7” from early 2012. Lovesores are very Humpers-esque, possibly closer than any of Drake’s other bands. It helps that Humpers alum Jeff Fieldhouse slings axe and co-writes (although I hear he is not in the current live lineup). Present is that swagger, that snarling vocal delivery. Imagine Johnny Thunders and The Heartbreakers on uppers instead of downers. Lovesores have a big sound, with scorch your pee-pee axe work (give you a dollar if you can find where I stole that gem from) but there’s enough shit and dirt still left in the mix to keep it real. I feel like I’m slighting the rest of the band, though! I gotta find out what other bands they’ve been in because, yeah, they’re kicking my ass right now.  –Sal Lucci (Hovercraft)

“Cola Freaks” b/w “Alle Taler”: 7"
Awesome reissue of a Danish punk single from 1978. Driving punk with female/male vocal tradeoffs and snot harmonies. Three short blasts complete with acceptable guitar solos and no clunkers. Fans of the era won’t be disappointed. Warning: those Danish have a different word for everything.  –Billups Allen (Sing Sing)

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