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Record Reviews1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 | 0-9| A| B| C| D| E| F| G| H| I| J| K| L| M | | N| O| P| Q| R| S| T| U| V| W| X| Y| Z| < Prev Section | Next Section >  RSS Feed
CHUCK LATENITE:
Clean Cut Disguise: CD
There are few things i approach more cheerlessly than the concept of putting up with a guy playing his acoustic guitar in public or on record. In the thankfully limited number of circumstances where i have been required to stand before some i-will-now-stand-here-and-play-my-acoustic-guitar-and-sing-and-you-will-now-listen-to-me-doing-it types, i always feel like i age about another fifteen years in the first two minutes: My feet immediately feel like they used to after eight hours of janitorial duties in work boots; my vertebrae start aching; my jacket gets twenty pounds heavier. If i sit down, the chair becomes uncomfortable. If i buy a drink, the drink becomes uncomfortable. My ass feels like i’ve just driven from New Jersey to Indiana without a piss break. I am, in so many words, “not really a fan.” Along comes Chuck Latenite. He sends me his “acoustic punk rock” album because—he claims—he has “rocked out” to records i have made (that’s possible?), and it would please him to know that i at least briefly “rocked out” to his. Okay, fair enough. “I just want to give that feeling a-rock-n-roll gave to me,” as Billy Idol once said (cutting himself in for the bonus plan afterwards). Virtually everything i have ever heard by a punk rock guy playing an acoustic guitar has been utter dogshit, granted, but at least i don’t have to stand and watch the guy play—i can pop the CD in the deck of my rigg™ and listen to it while i’m driving. That way, when my ass feels sore and stiff like i’ve been driving, i won’t know the difference. The first song is an instrumental, “Resin Party”—presumably Chuck’s attempt at birthing the acoustic equivalent of “Heatseeker.” I am more amused than put off: Whenever i see some dude playing songs on an acoustic guitar, they always do this one thing—whuh, whuh, whuh, chicka-wicka-wacka wuh-wuh—for what seems like an eternity—and here Mr. Latenite has gone and based his entire opening salvo on—you guessed it—whuh, whuh, whuh, chicka-wicka-wacka wuh-wuh. Well, fine. Guy plays good, anyway. I drive along as the album continues. It soon becomes clear that Chuck is a purist, who appears to believe in a grand total of Four Things: 1. Getting drunk; 2. Getting high; 3. Lust; 4. Rock & Roll. That’s it. Fuck Twinkies™, fuck Jeeps™, fuck oyster crackers, he’s got his four components of life and everything else is unworthy of comment (although he does take a bit of a detour into 5. Math, but i view this diversion as merely a tool used to further facilitate #3). A number of songs pass. It begins to strike me that not only is Chuck’s acoustic guitar playing not uninteresting, his voice is really cool as well. He’s got it reverb-drenched and mixed down under the guitars, so he sounds like some street-smart but otherwise mildly retarded Elvis/Gene/Lux type, darkly percolating away while never hiccupping anything much more potentially charismatic than “I get drunk to rock ‘n’ roll / I smoke pipe to rock ‘n’ roll.” Amazingly, no matter how venereal the subject matter gets—doggy-styling “white girls without tattoos,” et al—things never come off with an obnoxious swagger, because the guy is NOT singing about drinking and fucking and rocking and getting high in order to yell “HEY! LOOK AT ME! I’M DRINKING AND FUCKING AND ROCKING AND GETTING HIGH!”, but is, in fact, offering a humble and heartfelt hosanna of praise to HIS GODS AND MASTERS. It is fucking completely pure. COMPLETELY. But, then again, y’know, it IS still one guy beating on an acoustic guitar, and, as indicated, i don’t have much faith in the medium. But then—stunningly, as these things tend to be—there is the Unforeseen Moment of Divine Greatness: “I Want You To Be My Girl.” Lyrics in toto: “I want you to be my girl, yeah I want you to be my girl, I want you to be my girl tonight.” One voice singing, one guitar beating out a trip-hammer neo-Leg Hounds rhythm, one guitar playing wild-ass acoustic leads off said rhythm. Rinse, lather, repeat. Fucking PERFECT (to all those whom i routinely denigrate for writing shit-simple but imperfect songs: Please take note of how, in a song that uses NINE WORDS total, the artist is actually able to convey a relatively broad [sorta] range of feeling by subtly placing the word “want” on the stressed first syllable of the first two lines, but locating the word “I” on that same syllable in the last line. That’s why HE’S Chuck Latenite, and you’re just squares with electric guitars who couldn’t even hold serve for rock ‘n’ roll against the guys with the backwards baseball caps and turntables!). Chuck Latenite, if you are not THE SHIT, then you are, at minimum, the well-masticated contents of the small intestine which, given enough time and the kindly intercession of the right manner of bacteria, are slated to one day become The Shit. I am currently rethinking my stance on the acoustic guitar as a worthwhile implement of rocking, as well as pondering the general outmodedness of musics requiring cumbersome amplification devices and such. I can say no more at present. BEST SONG: duh, pay attention, asshole. BEST SONG TITLE: I dunno, but the best line is “A hundred squared is what? Probly like ten thousand? I’m so blues that I live in public housing!” from “Low Number Blues” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: This dude must really love The Rock ‘n’ Roll if he actually figured out the words to “Right Now” by Teengenerate!
–Rev. Norb (Braindead)
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CHUCK MAIDEN:
Morris Road: CD
Our buddy Chuck Maiden
sounds quite a bit like the Wallflowers, kind of like how cow poop smells quite
a bit like horse poop.
–Guest Contributor (Lorne Street)
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CHUCK RAGAN:
The Boat/ For Broken Ears: 7”
Allow a heretic a brief confession here. I’ve never been a big Hot Water Music fan. Wait, it gets worse. My favorite songs of theirs are on their split with Alkaline Trio. Wait…it gets even worse. I think Alkaline Trio did a better version of “Rooftops.” I don’t know what it is, but somehow they’re either above my head or below my radar. All I know for sure is that I love the shit out of The Draft’s full length In a Million Pieces and the snails pace at which Chuck’s acoustic recordings are coming out is killing me. This is the first installment of the “Blueprint Sessions” series of singles you can get only by subscribing to get the whole shebang over at No Idea. It’s a six single series and if you subscribe before it’s over, you get a bonus 7” that won’t be on the CD (that you also get when you subscribe) that will come out at the end of the series collecting all the songs together. That’s a little thing I like to call “Sweet dealin’.” Choice anti-war jam on this episode “For Broken Ears.” If this is what happens when Chuck retires…that motherfucker needs to retire more often.
–Steveo (No Idea)
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CHUCK RAGAN:
Valentine b/w Do What You Do: 7”
Acoustic music’s a slippery slope. So much can go so wrong with it almost immediately that it’s hard not to flinch when someone you admire musically goes about it solo. Cafés across this great land of ours are lousy with examples of once-good ideas gone horribly hippie or Hallmark card wrong. Thankfully, Chuck Ragan’s a modern-day warrior, golden dude, and no stranger to the acoustic guitar. (Check out Rumbleseat.) It’s little records like this where time gets elastic, and that part in The Decline of Western Civilization where these crazed people talk about punk picking up where the folk tradition left off—and you think Claude Bessy’s totally out of his mind—makes sense and snaps back on itself. It comes to this: with music that’s at the tip of an arrow, aimed true, words like “punk” and “folk” take a back seat to resistance music, to carving your own music into hard surfaces, and being honest to yourself, which, I believe, Chuck is doing. Great stuff.
–Todd Taylor (No Idea)
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CHUCK RAGAN:
Do You Pray b/w Congratulations Joe: 7"
Chuck Ragan has made me revise the, “Oh, fuck this. An acoustic guitar? Absolutely not,” thought bubble that automatically pops into my head when I walk into those situations. I’m prejudiced against the format that’s all-too-often given the solo-act Blues Hammer treatment, yet Chuck translates a ragged heart so clearly, simply, and directly right onto vinyl that it’s startling. Hats off to his haunting, beautiful, and gutsy stuff.
–Todd Taylor (No Idea)
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CHUCK RAGAN:
Above the Flames b/w The Grove & Done and Done b/w Trenchfoot & Open up and Wail: 7" & CD
Chuck shows that less can be more, shows that being alone is a universal condition, shows that defiance can be a single flame, that it doesn’t always have to be orchestrated fireworks bursting overhead. It can be one voice and a guitar. Aching. Rough-throated. Dirty-fingered from honest work. I believe he makes music that’ll be heard the day after all the lights go out in the world; not just because it’s acoustic, but because it’s timeless. What he does to Panthro United UK 13’s “Sound of a Gun” is downright haunting; turning a stormy anthem into a quiet, porch-rocking virus seeping tension.
–Todd Taylor (No Idea)
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CHUCK RAGAN:
Los Feliz: CD
If you are looking for partying music, this CD cannot help you (though it is probably the best late night bonfire music that you could find right now). The songs are extremely emotional and I found myself feeling quite dark when listening to it (the bad kind of dark, not the fun kind where I’m pissed and screaming lyrics about killing stuff). I started thinking about all my problems and, though it brought calmness over my house, I don’t think I will be listening to it on long drives home or lonely nights. Most of the songs are a bit depressing, but don’t misunderstand, I don’t hate this album. I have a relish for the live recording with bluegrass/blues entangled with a rustic voice that I can’t help but relate to the glory days of Hot Water Music, and I think Jon Gaunt on fiddle and Ted Hutt on mandolin was refreshing like a 6AM Mountain Dew. All I’m saying is that I’m glad it’s in my music collection, but I just need to be in a certain mood to listen to it. C. Marie
–Guest Contributor (Side One Dummy)
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CHUGGA CHUGGA:
…Is Sweet, but If This Were a Flat Donut, It Would Be Much Sweeter: 7”
Sweet, charming, and DIY-down, Chugga Chugga’s (I say this in a very affectionate way), a mix between the Grease soundtrack and This Bike Is A Pipebomb. Imagine a cover of Lita Ford’s “Kiss Me Deadly,” with an accordion, as a sparse, happy female duet. They do a pneumonic roll call of the Great Lakes (“your lakes are good, but ours are so much greater!”), and entreat zombies to not eat their brains. For anyone with a kid, or a kid inside of you, Chugga Chugga’ll make you smile.
–Todd Taylor (Chugga Chugga)
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CHUMPS:
Self-titled: LP
Chumps play fuzzed-out rock with pop sensibilities. Riffs are catchy while maintaining a weird edginess to them. I detect a bit of grunge influence hiding in here, which, combined with the fuzziness, makes me think of the early ‘90s. Vocals are sung-shouted, but never screamed, with lyrics which read like crazed beat poetry mixed with punk nihilism. The weirdness of this band is just right to get those with more discerning taste interested, but their songs are just polished enough to have a bit of commercial appeal. It’s not my favorite release from Forge Records, but it’s still worth checking out.
–Paul J. Comeau (Forge, chumpsmofo@gmail.com)
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CHURCH OF ABJECT SORROW:
Blessed Sacrament: CD
Swampy, country-inflected murder ballad fodder.
–Jimmy Alvarado (Vigilante Abortion)
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CHURCH OF GRAVITRON:
19+Sterile: CD
Static- and feedback-laden soundscapes, four tracks in total, are the rule of thumb here. While many others treading similar ground too often merely grab the nearest radio, tune it off-station, and record the results as some sort of quasi-artistic statement, it’s clear here that much more thought was given to what was being done. This makes all the difference and the result, while still nowhere near the traditional verse-chorus-verse definition of “music,” is abundant in moody, screechy, cohesive charm. It’s definitely an acquired taste, but those with the palate will find much to savor.
–Jimmy Alvarado (Doom Town)
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CHURCH OF THE RED MUSEUM:
Self-titled: CD
Upon playing this CD, I felt like I was listening to a bad version of the Black Heart Procession or maybe BHP if it met up with the World Inferno Friendship Society and they came across Murder By Death and a carnival. With Rhodes, organ, violin, electric guitar, trumpet, bass, and percussion, there’s definitely a large amount of instrumentation represented within Church of the Red Museum. The songs are well-constructed and utilize all the instruments quite well. They have that feel of a band that has a number of influences, all a little bit on the extravagant side of things. The primary vocals are male and are real throaty and whiskey-soothed: as usual, reminding me of someone I can’t quite put my finger on at this point. I have no doubt that live, this band is probably really cool, as there would be a lot to take in and hear. However, on CD, it just doesn’t excite as much as it should, given the range of instruments and the styles infused.
–Kurt Morris (ManUp)
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CHURCH OF THE SATURDAY SAINTS:
Longboarder: 7”EP
It’s simple and direct acoustic punk lead by a burlap voice, all very enjoyable. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, that punk rockers are the perfect candidates to pick up where country lost its way in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s. The DIY punks I know will play anywhere, anytime, just for the love of it, and there’s a support system developing on those terms alone. They don’t need a lot of fancy equipment. They aren’t concerned with getting their songs in toothpaste commercials. There’s a lot to be said of being able to roll into any town, finding a porch, a park, or a basement, and playing to anyone who’s around and the Church Of The Saturday Saints totally hit that vibe.
–Todd Taylor (Vinehell)
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CHURCH OF THE SATURDAY SAINTS:
Longboarder: 7"
This shit sounds like Gainesville by way of California. It’s wonderful gritty and down to earth punk rock. I loved this EP from start to finish and apparently it was all recorded in one take. Bravo. One thing though: I really don’t get the name of the EP and I really think they deserve a much better band name. If I would have seen this in the record store, I would not have bought it, passed it up, in fact, because of a name like that. Sounds like the name of a horrible copycat Swedish death metal or super annoying Screeching Weasel rip-off band.
–Mr. Z (Vinehell)
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CHURCH OF THE SATURDAY SAINTS:
14 Rotten Tomatoes: CD
These guys are hip to so many vibes all at once—‘60s pop, punk, folk, country—that it’s kinda fun just to try to pick out influences as they play. Their songs are really fuggin’ well written, too, and show an attention to craft that makes me all the more pissed that other bands don’t put in as much effort. Thing is, though, that I really wish the singer was just a little more diverse in his delivery. His crunchy “world’s finest singin’ rassler” voice has only one volume: over the top. I imagine that’s kind of the point, but the songs scream for a little more attention to dynamics—soft here, howl there, a little less howl over here, and so on. Still, the quality of the songs win out and make for a pretty danged good release.
–Jimmy Alvarado (Vinehell)
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CHURCH SHOES:
Loves: LP
These Ft Wayne, Indiana transplants who are now living in Austin, TX offer ten songs of sometimes rollicking, sometimes waltzing good times. I’m hearing a number of different influences here, varying from sometimes bringing to mind the masterpiece that is Alex Chilton’s Like Flies on Sherbert LP, whereas other times being seemingly influenced by the rootsy garage rock of fellow Austin residents The Golden Boys. It seems to straddle the line between garage rock and Americana equally, but without all of the bullshit trappings of most every artist that actually ever gets labeled or labels themselves as an “Americana” musician. This is a really good record and deserves more attention than it will probably ever receive.
–Mark Twistworthy (KMJ, churchshoesrock@gmail.com, music.churchshoes.us)
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CHURCH, THE:
Uninvited, Like the Cloud: CD
I bet the singer wears black jeans, a button-up black shirt, sunglasses, and has a cigarette in hand at all times on stage. Which is kind of how I picture The Plimsouls. Which is also probably why I’ve never listened to The Plimsouls willingly.
–Megan Pants (Cooking Vinyl)
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CHURCH, THE:
Uninvited, Like the Clouds: CD
There’s a pretty standard plot that some TV drama series follow. And one storyline where the female lead, confused and scared (usually following a breakup) finds herself alone, wet from the rain and finds solace in a coffee shop or bar. On the stage, a dimly lit band plays melancholy music and she connects with the dark, but sensitive singer (who she’ll usually leave to go back to the dude she was with before). This would be the band on stage.
–Megan Pants (www.thechurchband.com)
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CHURCHWOOD:
Self-titled: CD
Smart, bluesy bar rock with an occasional nod to other stuff, like zydeco. Nice bit of diversity in their approach to the songs here. The downside, however, is that they sound exactly like what they are, namely a bluesy bar rock band—something nice to nod and holler at on the bandstand while yer drinkin’, but nothing lasting long enough to sink its teeth in and follow you around once the sun comes up and the hangover sets in. Love the cover art depicting an x-ray of someone shooting themselves in the foot.
–Jimmy Alvarado (Saustex)
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CHURCHWOOD:
Just the Two of Us: 7”
This is another blues-influenced rock‘n’roll outing brought to you by the good people at Saustex. Looking at the picture of Churchwood playing on the back cover, the prevalence of pork pie hats and shirt collars spread over jacket lapels might make you guess that a.) the sound will be somewhat rockin’, like a decent house band at a watering hole somewhat left of center, and b.) harmonicas rule the roost. Such a guess is exactly what the titular A-side provides, but the B-side, “Metanoia,” is a quirky ditty imbued with a Southwestern aura as if the Dead Milkmen spent way too much time in west Texas. Were it not for the B-side, I might not like this record so much, since the A-side is so standard.
–The Lord Kveldulfr (Saustex)
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CHURCHWOOD:
2: CD
This was different for me—a blues band with a punkish edge playing ten tracks of varying tempos and slightly different styles of blues. You get some swamp, some traditional, a not-too-successful try at funk, and some Delta blues all mixed together on this album. The playing is spotless. It has lots of emotion and prowess. Clear production, to boot. Not something that I’ll play a lot, but a cool bunch of songs all the same. –Rick Ecker
–Guest Contributor (Saustex, saustex.com)
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CIGARETTE CROSSFIRE:
In between the Cure and the Disease: CD
There’s a lot of heart in this album. You can hear it in the vocals and the way the music is delivered in driving and melodic doses. They bring to mind Leatherface and Manifesto Jukebox: heavy, guitar-driven songs where there’s the massive wall of sound, but the storm tends to break, a melody comes out and swirls and meanders around the destruction, putting a poetic touch on the whole thing. But what really grabs me are the excellent lyrics. Much like the Slobs I reviewed elsewhere here, Cigarette Crossfire have done a great job of putting down in words what is going on the world today in a way that’s not empty sloganeering or fantastical poses. They address the human condition and the ways we act and react in an effort to survive in a world that is looking darker and darker every day. But rather than throw up one’s arms in defeat, they name the problems and go from there. It’s best evidenced in the song “Form Before Function,” addressing poverty and the games people play to get through. What I really like are the songs like “Patriot = Idiot” that confront the rise of the right and their (right wingers) denials of racism, while practicing the same, and “Blind Majority” which is about group think. It’s all delivered with gravelly vocals that really put some fire in the words and drive the points home.
–Matt Average (Combat Rock Industry, combatrockindustry.net)
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CINCH, THE:
Shake If You Got It: CD
Mid-tempo bar punk with monotone vocal delivery. It's all right, I guess, but I guess I was expecting more considering the label responsible.
–Jimmy Alvarado (Dirtnap)
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CINCH, THE:
Shake If You Got It: CD
This record got panned last issue, so I want to drop in my two cents worth. First off, let me say that I have a great deal of respect for the Razorcake reviewers, particularly the two who reviewed this record. Still, I respectfully disagree. It’s true that The Cinch are indie rockers. They’re probably the favorite band of some skinny, effeminite, lonely guy who wears ironic thrift store t-shirts and works at the college radio station and wonders why no one loves music the way he does. And there are hints of Brit Pop. And it’s nothing like what you’ve come to love about Dirtnap Records. I can understand why someone would pop this into the CD player and expect the wild Epoxies/Minds/Ends punk rock that Dirtnap is known for, and be bummed to find that they’re listening to indie rock. I had that experience myself. On repeated listens—and, believe me, The Cinch are getting repeated listens—you get over that initial reaction and come to love this. Imagine an amped-up Holly Golightly or a more straightforward Sleater-Kinney and you’re somewhere in the ballpark of The Cinch. Tight melodies, full guitars, and haunting vocals. It’s not what I normally listen to, but I’m listening to it normally, and I really dig it.
–Sean Carswell (Dirtnap)
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CINCH, THE:
Shake If You Got It: CD
I liked the EP fine, but the formerly impending full-length is so meandering and ethereal that i’m pretty sure you could conjure up a more Gripping Rock Experience by listening thru the walls to the chick who lives in the apartment above you singing along to her Dream Syndicate album. Only thing shaking here is my head, and that’s due to the veritable Parkinson’s Disease of disdain i have just now been stricken with. BEST SONG: “Forwards & Backwards” BEST SONG TITLE: “I Feel Strange” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: “Mystery Train” is not the Sun-era Elvis number of identical nomenclature. Also, the “A” in “FAde Out” is capitalized.
–Rev. Norb (Dirtnap/Stutter)
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