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· 1:Webcomic Wednesdays #121
· 2:#356 with Samantha Beerhouse
· 3:Webcomic Wednesdays #119
· 4:Top 5s From Issue #85
· 5:Louis Jacinto Photo Column - Stan Lee of The Dickies


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Razorcake #86
Wailing Of a Town, by Craig Ibarra
Razorcake #85
Pale Angels, Imaginary People LP
Toys That Kill / Joyce Manor, Split 7"


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Record Reviews

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LOST KIDS:
“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)


LIKE LIKE LIKE THE THE DEATH:
Cave Jenny: 12”
Milwaukee’s got some awesome shit brewin’ in their punk scene. Like Like Like The The Death (LLLTTD) brings about this post/noise rock pop punk band. And it’s damn good. I’ve been really digging a local Bay Area band Cold Circuits and it’s stylistically very similar. LLLTTD is a bit more contained, a bit less raw, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t equally rip. The out-of-tune vocals and anxious post-punk guitar plucking and strumming leaves you a bit off kilter but wanting more. A definite hell yes.  –Camylle Reynolds (Latest Flame)


LIBYANS:
Expired Language: LP
Libyans don’t strike me as an incidental band. Every detail reads as intentional and serving a multi-faceted whole. On the cover is a beautiful black and white photo of a jellyfish taken by bassist Aaron Demuth. Jellyfish are odd creatures. They don’t have bones, a brain, or a heart. They have an orifice that functions as both mouth and anus. Transparent earth aliens. I’m not a musician and, musically, I have no idea how Libyans are playing their instruments, but they sound like thrashing-around tentacles with electric barbs at the end. On headphones, it’s downright freaky. It’s almost like a medusa attacking in there. Throughout it all, Liz Panella’s voice conveys all-too-human distortion, urgency, and anxiety. The overall effect of Expired Language is like being tossed into a tank full of jellyfish. They don’t care about you. They can’t. It’s not in their nature. They’ll sting you as so much touch you. That’s just what they do. It’s more than just an album, it’s an experience.  –Todd Taylor (Sorry State)


LESS THAN JAKE:
See the Light: CD/LP
As I get closer to having spent fifty years on this planet, I acknowledge a growing grumpiness and curmudgeonly attitude to life within myself. No longer is it all puppy dogs and kittens. If asked, my favorite color is black. Therefore, I’m perplexed that I find the new Less Than Jake album an enjoyable listen, as after all, it’s a band I’d long lost interest in, really. However, with a more ska- and horns-orientated approach being employed than on many of the recent efforts, this album finds me adding a hint of brightness to accompany the black. This isn’t going to change the world but it is easy to listen to and, more so, if you are a fan of the earlier material—it does a good job of alleviating some of the daily grind without raising the blood pressure to near critical levels—and turns out to be the soundtrack to a partial smile.  –Rich Cocksedge (Fat)


LEGIONAIRE’S DISEASE BAND:
Rather See You Dead: 7”
Another much-ballyhooed punk single is pulled from obscurity, dusted off, and reissued for the teeming masses. In this case, though, I dunno if “obscure” quite fits, seeing as the title track has been comped, booted, and otherwise available in different forms for decades now. Ah, no matter, as this time ‘round yer getting it, along with its flip, “Downtown,” in its original and much preferred form. If ye ain’t been privy to hearing it prior, yer getting for your buck two sludgy sides of primal, prime-grade sloppy punk that gets under yer skin like scabies and just won’t leave you be. File it next to your copy of the Fuck Ups’ FU 82 EP and watch your shelves start to rot.  –Jimmy Alvarado (Cheap Rewards, cheaprewards.net)


LEGENDARY WINGS:
Questions: 7”
Punchy, catchy, toe-tapping and head-bobbing power pop with bright, open chords and clean, crisp vocals. The band is exceptionally tight and what they’re laying down here is heaps of fun, along the lines of a corn-fed, Midwestern version of Royal Headache. Two tunes on 45 with the big hole in the middle. This appetizer’s got me craving more.  –Jeff Proctor (Tic Tac Totally)


LAST, THE:
Danger: CD
I’ve been banging my head against various tree stumps for about a week, trying to figure out a succinct way to critique this release. Normally, this ain’t a problem, but The Last are a bit different from the typical fodder that comes through Razorcake’s record bins. Those who have been keeping score on the band are likely hip to the fact that they are one of the “O.G. Three” Hermosa Beach punk bands, predating the other two, Black Flag and the Descendents, by a spell. Their 1978 “She Don’t Know Why I’m Here” single is about as choice a melding of early punk and ‘60s psychedelic rock as yer gonna find, and their 1979 debut LP, L.A. Explosion, showcased ‘em cleaning the sound a bit to unleash a seminal piece of twelve-string psych-twang that predated the whole “paisley underground” explosion by a few years. Sure, some of us became so enamored with hardcore that we kinda lost touch with The Last for a good while there, and the fact that it’s been nigh on seventeen years since their last LP makes no diff to the fact that some of us are fuggin’ lazy bastards, no matter how much we dig a particular group. That said, this is a decidedly different beast from those early records, in that where their debut swung way over into one corner of their influences, this bad boy pendulums waaaay over in the other. Yeah, you can still hear the organs ‘n’ twelve-stringers in there, but the latter is blaring through a distortion pedal loud enough to temper the former. The results sound like “classic” Last mooshed in with, yes, early Black Flag and the Descendents, which is probably no surprise seeing as the Nolte brothers have seen fit to draft the Descendents’ 900 lb. beast of a rhythm section (namely Karl and Bill) to round out this latest lineup, not to mention recording, mixing, and mastering it at the Blasting Room. The Pettibon cover art is also a nice touch. All of this gives the whole endeavor an aggressiveness and loudness that interweaves, tempers, counters, and augments those legendary multi-part harmonies and post-Strawberry Alarm Clock bits that made The Last so swell. Ah, but though it’s peachy to have a new release by ‘em, and all that, this is all ultimately just me blathering and self-bickering. I’m running outta stumps to butt and I need to take a position, so here it is: This bad boy is FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC.  –Jimmy Alvarado (End Sounds)


KETAMINES, THE:
You Can’t Serve Two Masters: LP
Surfy, reverby, drugged-up freak pop. Mixing it up with different instruments and multiple vocalists, it’s got a very free-form feel. There’s a particularly earnest song on the B side where the singer sings about his mother. Makes me wish there was a lyric sheet. But, for the most part, this record has a sunny, afternoon-at-a-cartoon-park type vibe. Visualize it.  –Daryl Gussin (Southpaw, southpawdistro@yahoo.com / Mammoth Cave Recording Co., mammothcaverecordings@gmail.com)


KETAMINES, THE:
So Hot!: 7”
Two songs flailing in spooky sci-fi sounds, echo surf tones, keyboards, jerkin’ back and forth Devo, Zappa vocals, Pere Ubu territory followed by a quick jangle pop number. Three tracks that I have a hard time fathoming. If Hozac weird (not the noisy style, just the quirky side) is your bag, grab this or its coinciding Ketamines singles series brethren (this is three of four).  –Matt Seward (Hosehead)


KATA SARKA / BODDICKER:
Split: 7”
Kata Sarka play very death metal-influenced black metal with production that is actually really good. This is fucking…brutal. That’s what metal guys say, right? I mean, this is metal in the way that you kind of don’t know what’s going on half the time. I don’t have much of an idea for band comparisons because I don’t really keep up with the black metal scene, but I like what I’m hearing and this is a far cry from the blown-out, fuzzy sounds of the stuff I know, like Burzum or Darkthrone. Boddicker are from Detroit and do a more technical type grind thing that reminds me of older Converge taking a lot of influence from Unholy Grave. This is actually a really solid split and one in a recent series of total wins from Profane Existence (Rang, Sick/Tired) that are putting them back on the map as a serious label.  –Ian Wise (Profane Existence)


JIMMY SINN:
Another Punk Monday Night: CD
Wasn’t really blown away by the last release I heard on this label, and when I found out it was just gonna be one guy and a guitar singing songs with titles like “Heroin in Hollywood,” I was pretty much ready to route the disc to my local used prerecorded music emporium and construct the review via randomly-chosen pieces of magnetic poetry. Catholic guilt forced me to listen to at least the first few songs, however, whereupon—curiously—I found I quite enjoyed the bountiful one-man acoustic/electric lamenting that this disc had to offer. At its best, it sounds like an unlikely and well-produced slush of Billie Joe Armstrong, the Exploding Hearts, and “Me and Julio Down by the School Yard.” At its worst, it also sounds like that. I listened to this disc twice now, and that’s two times more than my original plan. Tasty victory to you, Mr. Sinn! BEST SONG: “Don’cha Get It.” WORST SONG TITLE: “Boston Song.” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: This gentleman appears to have a ukulele on his wall!  –Rev. Norb (1332)


JIFFY MARKER:
Winston: LP
Quirky, bouncy, garage jams that lie somewhere between MOTO and Mean Jeans. There’s also a very real budget rock vibe going on. Silk-screened covers, hand-drawn labels. Cramming all the songs onto one side of the LP. Which makes me think that there’s some real thought going on beneath all these hair-brained, pop songs. Evidently, making it all the better. For fans of skateboarding dogs, beer-fuelled pogoing, DeLoreans, and power pop!  –Daryl Gussin (Self-released)


INTERRUPTERS, THE:
“Family” b/w “This Is the New Sound”: 7”
Sturdy and reliable whatever-millionth-wave ska stuff. Aimee Interrupter’s got a nicely careworn, scratchy voice and the band themselves—made up of the three Bivona brothers, the same guys who were Tim Armstrong’s backing band during his year-long Tim Timebomb project—are confident in their musicianship. There’s nothing truly jawdropping here, but like I said, they’re a consistent and solid enough pair of songs. A-side features Armstrong taking up co-vocalist duties. I’d like to hear a full-length from this band and see how that grows on me because this two-song 7” just doesn’t quite have the depth and resonance I’d hoped for.  –Keith Rosson (Pirates Press)


HYSTERIA WARD:
From Breakfast to Madness: LP
This is the vinyl re-release of a cassette that was originally released in London, circa 1987. Hysteria Ward plays synthy, female-fronted goth punk. Pretty slow, pretty sad sounding, but played with conviction. The singer’s voice is so strong, she might as well be boarding up my windows, forbidding the California sun from entering. Dreary, haunting stuff. The release includes a CD-R with some extra tracks and the liner notes include a history of the band. My favorite anecdote from it is in 1983 when they were looking for their first drummer they placed in ad in Melody Maker that said, “Drummer wanted. Must be into The Cure, Wire, and Associates.” That’s a good start for describing their sound, but Hysteria Ward is much, much punker.  –Daryl Gussin (General Speech)


HELLGASM:
Infernal Raids Hellnautic Torment: Cassette
With a name like Hellgasm, I knew I was taking a risk on this satanic pastiche tape. At first, I didn’t know what to make of it. It nearly sounded tongue-in-cheek in a Spazz sort of way. Then, after mulling it over, I concluded that Hellgasm is serious. Suddenly, the tape became an anomaly in my collection. Almost the Troll 2or Plan 9 from Outer Space of powerviolence, crust music. It’s bona fide Ed Wood demon worship. My car is officially possessed.  –Sean Arenas (Self-released)


HEALTH PROBLEMS:
A Glut of Plastic: Cassette
It took two of four songs for me to realize that there is no guitar on this album. I didn’t miss it. As a guitar player, I didn’t even take it personally. We’ve had our share of spotlight. Besides, the superior musicianship, riffage, and controlled chaos created by David Dempsey on drums and Dan Shaw on bass is enough to please the ears and keep the brain alert. Vocalist Ian Kurtis Crist does a mix of hardcore vocals and spoken word with thoughtful lyrics. He’s got a real presence that is working overtime to keep up with the band, but succeeding nonetheless.  –John Mule (Self-released)


HDQ:
Lost in Translation: CD
Some of these dudes are/were in Leatherface, but this stands on its own two feet. First new release from this band in over twenty-three years. Very melodic, very riff-oriented, very good punk rock here. “Room with a View” and “Wake Up Call” are a couple of my favorites here. I’m glad this came my way. I’ll be digging into the back catalog and keeping my eyes peeled for a U.S. tour in 2014.  –Sean Koepenick (Boss Tuneage)


GRINGOS:
Pearly Gates: LP
This is how you summon Satan. “Conception of the Jackal in 6/8 time.” Satan wants you to give him your all. Satan wants you to get weird. He has no special affinity for black metal or death metal, but if you want to knead a sprinkling of those genres into a dough that you concoct from grumbling grooves and slobbering fastcore, he’s not going to kick you out of bed. But you’ve got to do it right. You’ve got to do it like you mean it, with psychotic horned animal masks. You’ve got to take your shirt off and show your hairy chest so the devil can see what kind of man you are. Satan approves of Gringos.  –MP Johnson (Wrecked ‘Em)


GINO AND THE GOONS:
“Trouble” & “Oh Yeah!”: 7”s
And then repeat it! Proving their 12” EP wasn’t a fluke, the Goons continue their brilliant Budget Rock-style assault on the ears and soul of the world. Gino is apparently a big boy now and has been taking the show on the road. Total Punk keeps scoring with the hits! Their Rip Off Records aesthetic fits every release perfectly. The liners describe the Goons perfectly, “fast and loose—loose and loud.” The Pelican Pow Wow record is just as powerful; no sassy liner notes but the cover does have some sassy ladies showing their stuff. This band is so stupid and simple and perfect, yet I can’t do it. Argh!  –Sal Lucci (Total Punk / Pelican Pow Wow)


GHOSTS RUN WILD:
Black Sails on a Sea of Blood: CD
This one-man band plays grumbling, synth-heavy garage rock to accompany the moment when your face peels off and your skull escapes and grows arms and starts shooting everything up with a laser gun.  –MP Johnson (Goblinhaus)


GENTLEMEN PREFER BLOOD / HANDS LIKE BRICKS:
Split: 7”
Radius Records, the folks who put out The Smoking Popes’ Inoculatorback in 1991, has risen from a twenty-year nap, moved from Chicago to San Diego, and released a mighty fine split featuring two contemporary L.A. punk groups. It’s hard not to be pulled in by the beauty of Paul Aguilera’s cigarette-smoking devil kitty paintings, the art that adorns each side of the sleeve, though the irreverence of the painting doesn’t fully capture the depth of each group’s contribution. To that point, Gentlemen Prefer Blood are one of those groups that has cracked the code and crafted a melodically catchy and lyrically engaging sound in the pop punk genre, a genre which I love, but which I think offers a challenge for being inventive within. They carry the pop in their songwriting sensibility, and the punk in the look-life-in-the-eyes effect. On “Rochester,” my favorite of their two tracks, Todd Smailes sings of “keeping guarded in the underground/saving smarts for the showdown” in a gravelly tone set over inviting palm mutes, and in seconds, your ears are met with a rise of vocal harmonies that somehow make the song arrive both emotionally and sonically, a rare accomplishment in just over two minutes. Hands Like Bricks, maybe the more straight-forward rockers of the two, stands as catchy, singable, moshable, and drinkable. And are we talking 7-Eleven fountain drinks—yes?—then, yes, even refillable! Songs like “The Old Crowd” and “Sunday Stuff” work for me, but I’m not sure if they really show the band’s dynamic and range as well as their last EP II does. I recommend this split for all the tracks, particularly Gentlemen Prefer Blood’s, but afterward, consider checking out Hands Like Brick’s II as well.  –Jim Joyce (Radius)


GALACTIC CANNIBAL:
We’re Fucked: LP
One of those strange amalgams that succeed flawlessly: dense, riff-heavy, melodic, and mercilessly catchy punk fronted by a veritable sasquatch of a monster on vocals. In lesser hands it’s a combination that wouldn’t work, but this record just decimates. Vocalist Peter Woods (a Milwaukee noise artist, and brother of Direct Hit’s Nick Woods, who plays bass on this record) bellows some of the most bleak, brutal, and poisonous lyrics I’ve read in years, and there’s a certain joy in that catharsis, you know? Buoyed by the melodies and velocity of the songs, this is kind of what I wished Off With Their Heads had sounded like the first time I’d heard them. Anyway, We’re Fucked is a stunning, ferocious batch of songs that I’ve listened to dozens of times in the short amount I’ve had it, and I can’t recommend it enough. May actually be the record of the year for me. Variants of the word “fuck” are used no less than forty-six times on this album.  –Keith Rosson (Lost Cat)


FUTURE BINDS:
Self-titled: 7” EP
I’ve said it before, but I seriously wanna know how Deranged stumbles upon all these great bands. Yet another winner of an EP here ‘em, featuring a band well versed in Negative Approach-styled hardcore, who keep things tighter than hell, frantic yet coherent, zippy without getting ridiculous. Mind appropriately blown, room appropriately damaged.  –Jimmy Alvarado (Deranged)


FRENCH EXIT:
Guts & Black Stuff: CD/LP
I have a tenuous relationship with backup gang vocals. On one hand, it can undermine the tone of a song and cause it to slip into outright silliness. On the other hand, it can really solidify a chorus and make something instantly catchy. French Exit somehow maintains the latter, like a trapeze artist, on their upbeat anthems; lesser bands would warrant major eye rolls. The rest of the songs are taut dramas, especially “When There’s a Fork in the Road, Take It” and “Bridges,” with tempo changes and Weezer-lite balladry. The production is slick which highlights every bent note, bass line, and tom fill. I would be lying if I said that these songs aren’t infectious—they snuggle up in the back of your head, like the adorable Maine Coon pictured on the cover. For fans of ‘90s guitar chugs and confident pop hooks. Recommended.  –Sean Arenas (It’s Alive, itsaliverecords.com, adam@itsaliverecords.com)


FOTTUTISSIMA PELLICCERIA ELSA:
Self-titled: LP
Another long-forgotten release by a long lost band gets pulled from the early ‘80s void, dusted off, and reintroduced to the world of the living, if only for a brief moment. Virtually nil is apparently known about the band other than that they once called Italy home and, judging from the cassette packaging, weren’t strangers to the whole anarcho punk thing. Make no false assumptions based on that info that you’re gonna get something that lives between Raw Power and Crass, though. No-ho-ho. That would be a mistake. First off, the sound of the whole endeavor sounds like it came straight from a boom box, quite a common practice among the more financially challenged bands of the time, so it’s all cardboard-boxy, with things getting a bit muddy on occasion, no doubt the kiss of death for a modern populace with ears keyed to even the skintest band spitting up something that’s been run through ProTools or some equivalent. The band itself sounds like it’s peopled with folks no more than a few months out from first picking up their instruments, thrashing ‘n’ howling one second, then plodding ‘n’ plunking the next. Yeah, I know, I know, I’m not exactly selling this bad boy, right? Well, here’s the thing: what makes this worthwhile is that it manages to capture the creative process of a band unhindered by commercial expectations, the rules of how to properly make music on an instrument and the “correct” way to write a song. This utter freedom is so fuckin’ hard to come by these days, when even so-called anarchist bands are so busy trying to conform to some preapproved pigeonhole that they end up sounding like one big faceless blob of mediocrity. Is it “good” listening? Well, that’s easily up for debate. It is a poignant reminder of what’s too often lost in punk’s progression from revolt against mediocrity to coveted career trajectory—you can’t truly be free if you care even the slightest if someone else will approve.  –Jimmy Alvarado (S.S.)


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Razorcake Podcast Player



·DAN PADILLA
·VARIOUS ARTISTS
·Little Runaway #2
·ZEROS, THE
·BLUES PATROL
·REAL MCKENZIES, THE
·COMPULSIONS
·RIFFS, THE
·COLA FREAKS


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