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Record Reviews

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NEW COKE:
Duct Tape Your Mouth: 7” EP
Brittle guitars saturated in distortion, stomping rhythms, garagy feel to the tunes, and twisted, violent lyrics: “I am drunk, I shot a man, I’m okay.” Somehow it all comes together quite nicely. Three tunes to make ye squirm while bobbing your head in time.  –Jimmy Alvarado (Slovenly)


MYTHOLOGICAL HORSES:
Self-titled: LP
Recorded and engineered by big-name ‘90s grunge muck-a-mucks Tad Doyle and Jack Endino, respectively, this quintet of Seattleites—thankfully—isn’t an updated version of Sub Pop Bong Rock, but more of a ramshackle version of upbeat, category-muddling, Pacific Northwest pop / rock / punk bands of that era like Flop and Bum (well, Bum were from Canada, so I guess that’d make it the Pacific Southwest then, wouldn’t it?), occasionally wandering into straight-up Mutant Pop Records territory. The singer’s uniquely goony pipes recall early helium-sniffers like Joey Vindictive, and the band doesn’t seem sure if they wanna write serious two-guitar boy-girl songs, or sing about fucking someone after the show, in the snow. All the same, not a bad record to play at that exact time of day when the sun starts going down and at the end of side two the little lights on your stereo receiver are pretty much the only illumination in the house and you gotta put the lights on and make a sandwich. Observations like these are why I get paid the big bucks here. BEST SONG: “All Alone.” BEST SONG TITLE: “Dancing Tonight.” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: There’s an album in one side of the gatefold sleeve and a download code in the other. I call that the “Rock’n’Roll Mastectomy.”  –Rev. Norb (Hovercraft, mythologicalhorses.bandcamp.com)


MURMURS:
Fly with the Unkindness: LP
This eight track album features seven great songs and one that is nothing short of perfection. Across both sides of the record, Murmurs cranks out gritty, melodic punk rock that is infectious and well crafted. However, on “Thirty Five Summers,” there is just over three minutes of musical synergy that results in a track so sublime it’s almost impossible to do it justice with mere words. From the moment I heard the sweet opening salvo of the guitar I was left in a jibbering heap, with my condition only being compounded as the rest of the song fell into place, leaving me in a state of awe. If I said that the song was anything other than BLOODY AWESOME, I’d be selling it short—the guitars, the rhythm section, and the vocals blend together magnificently to highlight a stunning piece of song writing and execution. It’s not often I hear something as outstanding as “Thirty Five Summers,” hence my unfettered exuberance. –Rich Cocksedge (Dead Broke, deadbrokerec@gmail.com, deadbrokerecords.com / Drunken Sailor, drunkensailorrecs@gmail.com, drunkensailorrecords.co.uk)


MULTICULT:
“Jaws” b/w “Luxury”: 7”
Following up 2012’s Spaces Tangled, Multicult maintains their rep, boiling off the excess of dreary post-punk and dropping in fizzy chords. Firmly planted on a fat, meaty bass hook, “Jaws” opens up like a track in a chase scene—focused, earnest in its pursuit mimicking A Place To Bury Strangers steeped in hydrochloric acid or the wordless, nefarious hunter vs. prey beats of French electro bad boys, Gesaffelstein And The Hacker. Their take on this instrumental blueprint has the guitar at center stage punctuated by crashing cymbals and zombie mumble vocals that melt into the onslaught. In comparison, “Luxury” is almost funky. Like “Jaws,” a jangly baritone bass line serves as nucleus for the flip side, alternating from ‘70s guitar blitz like a Cream hook turned inside out, then back to the bass. These two jams make me hopeful for another full length. Recommended.  –Kristen K. (Reptilian, reptilianrecords.com)


MONJO, LOS:
La Vida Que Los Envidian: LP
Mostly mid-tempo punk from Guadalajara that recalls ‘80s Mexican bands like Rebel’d Punk and Sindrome Del Punk, minus maybe the overt references to other genres those bands occasionally dropped into their sound. Can’t say it’s crucial, but they do what they do well, and I’m betting their gigs are quite lively and participatory.  –Jimmy Alvarado (Discos MMM, discosmmm.com)


MODFAG:
Paradisio: LP
Age doesn’t give you taste, but it does give some history and perspective and I dare a sixteen-year-old me to digest as much music as I have over the past thirty odd years. Modfag sound familiar, I lived this vibe, lived this sound. The early nineties was littered with bands influenced by the late seventies Radio Birdman, Saints, et al. who were in turn influenced by the Sonics, Elevators, or Stones. Modfag are a throwback bar band that could easily have found space on labels like Big Neck, Empty, or Estrus. Drunk dudes in stripy shirts and bowl cuts kicking out the fucking jams in some shithole bar in Houston. My kinda fellows. Best thing about these dudes is they have no Internet presence; they just get their shit done in Houston. Feeling it.  –Tim Brooks (Little T&A, littletandarecords.bigcartel.com)


MISSING MONUMENTS:
Self-titled: CD
My roommate’s boyfriend came home while I was listening to this CD for review, and I got embarrassed. I wanted to scream that I was only listening to this hard-rockin’ power pop because I needed to write about it—and I did explain myself, but in a calm manner. Anyhow, I don’t have some insatiable desire for power pop such that I would even listen to power pop laden with hard rock guitar noodling with raspy vox on most songs. The cover isn’t helping much, either: The band members—two of whom look like southern dirt rockers, and the other two look like grown dweebs who met in high school guitar class—standing in front of a blown-up image of diamond-plated steel. Definitely not for me.  –Vincent Battilana (Dirtnap)


MISSING MONUMENTS:
Blast!: 7”
This is my first exposure to Missing Monuments. I’m a fan of King Louie. The band has hooks and the dedication to the rainbow of hard rock is apparent on this record. “Blast” is a Southern fried rocker with hint of Detroit in the aggression. “Covered in Ice” keeps the twang with a catchier, Cheap Trick-esque chorus. “Ghost HWY” is a traveler. It’s a solid three-on-the-tree.  –Billups Allen (Slovenly)


MISERY:
From Seeds That We Have Sown: LP
I was not expecting this at all! There was a period towards what I had thought was the end of their run that they were putting out a lot of “meh” records. Then Donofthedead loans this to me and says to review it. This is pretty damn good. Up there with their early releases, and worthy of the original excitement they had generated with records like Production Thru Destruction (which I remember selling out of during one of my first shifts at Epicenter. You would not believe how many people were completely stoked to get that record), and Who’s the Fool.... As soon as I heard the acoustic guitars and the vocals from Cassandra Schorn, I knew this was going to be an interesting record. “Midnight” brings to mind Amebix, with its plodding metal style, but Misery bring in a little more heaviness with the up and down repetitive swing of the bass and drums, while the guitar rings out over them. Then there is the way the bass comes in on “New Years” with a distorted churn that grabs your attention and won’t let go, as the drums and guitar come in, building in intensity that reaches a steady simmer. So fuggin’ good! Plus, any band like this that covers Chrome (“3rd from the Sun”) and makes it sound like one of their own, gets eternal respect from me. I’m going to have to get my own copy.  –Matt Average (Inimical, inimical.com)


MINDLESS:
Planet of Pestilence: 7” EP
Planet of Pestilence is Mindless’s newest release following 2010’s cassette, Human Conditioning. Faiza Kracheni and friends kill it again. With nine quick songs, Mindless balance the shred and sludge of their last EP with noticeable melody. “Contamination” is a slow, pummeling march, the sonic equivalent of that eye-stabbing scene Fulci’s Zombi—visceral and gleefully gratuitous. I don’t have a great ear for grinding faster hardcore groups, but what stays with me is Kracheni’s throaty roar (harsher than on the last cassette) and the total virtuosity of the band, which can halt on a dime and join the violence of percussion with the musicality of their billowing and smoky guitar-driven storms. If Hatred Surge or the Endless Blockade were ever your thing, or if you grabbed the last Mindless cassette, Planet of Pestilence is worth the follow up.  –Jim Joyce (To Live A Lie, tolivealie.com)


MERCY KILLINGS:
Self-titled: 7” EP
This debut EP by a band comprised of former members of Direct Control, Wasted Time, and Violent Outburst grabs you by the boo-boo right from the beginning and shakes you around like a ragdoll for, oh, a little over twelve minutes before tossing your concussed carcass in a heap. Sinewy, non-meathead hardcore that bashes and thrashes with the best its progenitors ever kicked up.  –Jimmy Alvarado (Beach Impediment)


MALL’D TO DEATH:
Collection Tape: Cassette
Collection Tape, my first hearing of Minnesotan pop punk dudes, Mall’d To Death, is a tape that jams all their previous EPs into a single release. The general feel is something poppier—there are pogo moments and jittery palm mutes aplenty—but you get the feeling Mall’d To Death have listened to everything under the punk sun, or at least everything at Treehouse Records. Remember Krang, the squealing tentacle creature in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, the animated series? This is what happens when Krang escapes his robot suit, kidnaps Chris Hannah, and fronts Propagandhi. Or if Krang had a baby brother who followed global news, only ate Cheetos, loved the Suicide Machines, and wrote punk pun song titles like “Nervous Breakup” and “The Hymns Of J Church,” Mall’d To Death would be his band. Scrappy pop punk and more! And it’ll only cost you four bucks. What else do you want?  –Jim Joyce (Passion On Plastic, passiononplastic.com)


MAKABERT FYND / FEAR OF EXTINCTION:
Split: 7”
Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the dirty mattress in the punk squat this morning! Not that it’s a competition, since neither of these bands seems particularly happy about the state of the world, but Makabert Fynd is a tad angrier. This is the musical equivalent of bulging forehead veins. It’s relentless, grab-you-by-the-neck, patch-wearing crusty hardcore, and it’s definitely worth repeat listening.  –MP Johnson (Phobia, phobiarecords.net)


M.O.T.O.:
Shitty Kids: 7” EP
I saw M.O.T.O. perform to a rather empty bar last summer, which baffled me as Paul Caporino’s extensive catalog only has a couple of stinkers. But then I started thinking about how I won’t touch certain bands because of the size of their catalog and the intimidation factor of not knowing where to start. So, if you are wondering where to start with M.O.T.O., the truth is probably anywhere will be just fine. Now that that’s been settled, Mr. Caporino presents three new M.O.T.O. songs on this one, and, per usual, they are damn fine. The opener and eponymous track displays more of Paul’s punk tendencies, while the other two songs demonstrate his signature take on older rock, like Del Shannon. All three are recorded cleanly, and some better with each listen. If ya like M.O.T.O., then there ain’t no reason not to grab this. The only question that remains is, are the crude, no-fi recordings as gone from M.O.T.O.’s repertoire as the black pigment from Paul’s hair?  –Vincent Battilana (Secret Mission, secretmissionrecords.com)


LUNCH:
Quinn Touched the Sun: Cassette
Lunch starts out strong with a jangling, psych-garage sound, the singer lamenting the popularity of a fellow named Johnny Pineapple with a frustrated shout, setting the tone for a fun, trippy, psych garage ride. The next song builds on this, adding more distortion to the vocals. They prove themselves contenders, but they start to lose momentum on the second side. The first side rocks harder and with more bite. Don’t get me wrong, I play the whole tape every time but the songs don’t stand out as much. However, this is their first full-length and they end on a high note with the driving stomp of “Hex Meat” showing a lot of promise.  –Craven Rock (Resurrection, resurrectionrecords666@yahoo.com )


LUMPY AND THE DUMPERS:
“Gnats in the Pissa” b/w “Ghoul Breath”: 7”
There was a time, not that long ago even, that I might not have dug a band like Lumpy And The Dumpers. I would have thought them too scream-y, maybe too hardcore-tinged punk. Thanks to Total Punk, my ears have opened again to more “punk” sounding punk, a change from the lo-fi garage punk that is my drug of choice. Maybe it’s the boom-box fuzz-fi that makes me like ‘em? Their name is fantastic, and the liner notes have the singer performing in a diaper, so I gotta check ‘em live if they ever come my way. Also, I managed to score a mis-printed copy (limited to twenty-five, I believe) where side A has the label to a Manateees 7” that Total Punk released simultaneously.  –Sal Lucci (Total Punk)


LIPSTICK HOMICIDE:
Out Utero: LP
One thing that I love about female-fronted pop punk is that it strips away any misogyny that shows up in male-oriented songs about relationships. The Screeching Weasels and Queers of the three chord world are usually throwing the blame of failure onto the shoulders of women while skirting any responsibility of their own. Lipstick Homicide is completely aware of this unheard perspective and manages to stay honest—as opposed to falling in with—the same tactics of the male counterpart. This three-piece out of Iowa is very lyrically driven and showcase themes of insecurity, self-motivation, and success over a strong and clean rock’n’roll guitar, bubbly bass, and snappy drums that never overshadow Kate and Rachel’s vocal melodies. Musically, they never get as harsh as their lyrics and hold on to a sweet, poppy sound throughout the album. This record is great for summertime listening after you’ve dumped your boyfriend for not being awesome enough. And as an added bonus, super rad album artwork from Tom Lowell!  –Kayla Greet (Bloated Kat, bloatedkat.storenvy.com)


LINDSEYS:
Religious Sexts: LP
Play it fast. Play it simple. Don’t be afraid to be a little dumb (or very dumb). A stream of questionable lyrics for those who don’t mind some crude attitudes and infectious, snotty choruses. Don’t forget to cut out all the musical frills. Play it stripped-down, raw. F.Y.P and Hickey are accurate comparisons. ‘Nuff said. I dig it.  –Sean Arenas (Off The Books, offthebooksemail@gmail.com)


LIBYANS:
Expired Language: LP
I avoid nostalgia. I’m too young to genuinely miss anything. Yet, every so often a band is labeled as the resurgence of “classic punk” or “real punk,” as if these commentators remain paralyzed in the past and have only a hyper-shallow well of music terminology. These descriptors mean worse than nothing, they’re a waste of breath. Let the dinosaur music journalists at Rolling Stone attempt to maintain their extinct relationship to “punk rock.” Their “hot, young punk bands” aren’t moving me. Libyans are sure to become a magnet for these types of labels. It would also be too easy to say that they’re a return to form: angry, youthful, conscientious, angular. These tags are overly simplistic as well as a major disservice to these Bostonians. Libyans are a well-oiled engine. They fire on all cylinders and crash into the eardrums, leaving an irreparable crater in the brain’s right hemisphere. They are both a product of a continually unraveling history of discontent and an entirely unique entity. And, sure, they are angry, youthful, conscientious, and angular, but by no means are these songs nostalgic. Nostalgia is morphine, numbing the mind, slacking the jaw. Libyans are alert and aware, lurking in the foxhole of your subconscious and ensuring you remain rooted in present tense. Black Flag be damned.  –Sean Arenas (Sorry State, sorrystaterecords.com)


LAZARDS / SEEKRETS, THE:
Split: 7”
Two new wave-inspired bands from Finland with guitars, synth, and talk-sing vocals on both sides of this piece of red marble wax. While Lazards are more Suicide-esque gloom, sister-fronted Seekrets are devout believers in the campy fun of the B-52’s and Shonen Knife. Extra points for awesome packaging: the triangle of liner notes is one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen. (It looks like a cootie catcher!)  –Alanna Why (Blast Of Silence, info@blastofsilence.org)


LAZARDS / SEEKRETS, THE:
Split: 7”
Pretty cool split from Finland. The Seekrets play snotty punk rock—two girls in the front, one with a synth that gives them a Catholic Discipline vibe. There’s a playfulness with The Seekrets music, not unlike Kleenex. While not nearly as brutal, fans of Black Time and primitive rock’n’roll will be into The Seekrets. The Lazards aren’t too far removed from The Seekrets; they’re a Spartan-sounding three-piece (guitar, synth, and drums). The opening track employs a drum machine/sequencer. Pressed on red vinyl. Recommended.  –Ryan Leach (Blast Of Silence, facebook.com/blastofsilencerecords)


L.A. DRUGZ:
Outside Place: 12” EP
Wow, I really hate this band’s name… but everything else about this is killer. This 12” offers six poppy, garagy, punk rock’n’roll tunes from ex-members of the Clorox Girls that reminds me of an equal mix of The Observers (vocally), the White Wires (musically), and, of course, a slowed down and less typically “punk” version of the Clorox Girls. This is likely a little too power pop to be widely accepted by the garage rock crowd, which is a shame because it’s really good.  –Mark Twistworthy (Hover Craft, hovercraftrecords.bandcamp.com)


KOVAA RASVAA:
Ikuinen Piina: 7” EP
A second EP of Finnish hyper-thrash less interested in Discharge worship than just making a racket. Tunes zip by angry and blistering.  –Jimmy Alvarado (Svart, svartrecords.com)


KICKING SPIT:
Negative Feedback: LP
Believe the image on the cover. This is a dangerous record that comes shrieking into your eardrums like the swirling propellers of the deliverers of death at the beginning of Apocalypse Now. Following in the footsteps of Dinosaur Jr. and shreddy labelmates Screaming Females, Kicking Spit seem intent on ripping steel from wood, tolex from tubes, and eyes from unhinged sockets. This is heavy, sludgy, noisy, relentless, garage punk. I am way down. One (unpunk) request to the band, maybe just two-hundred more dollars on vocals and mixing next time? I love the crusty fidelity of this record but I just want to hear the vocals a little better. Okay, fine. I’m old.  –Noah (Don Giovanni, dongiovannirecords.com)


JOINT D≠:
Satan Is Real Again, Again…: LP
One o’ those bands I’ve heard of, but never actually heard, Joint D≠ crank out some swell hardcore-based punkification here. Though they do get rambunctious on occasion, they never make a serious attempt to break the speed barrier or resort to similar cheap trickery. The guitar player often attacks his instrument in such a way that adds a layer of grinding/churning to the intensity of the band’s performances, giving things a bit more heft while still retaining a viable level of tunefulness to the overall package. Less cerebral way of saying the same thing: they kick up dust without sacrificing an ounce of the rock.  –Jimmy Alvarado (Sorry State, sorrystaterecords.com)


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