Sunday, November 13, 2011

Tuesday - Early Summer

This may be an instance where the hoary cliche "preaching to the choir" could rear it's boring head, but well, if you're not familiar with the branches of the Slapstick family tree, you'd be doing yourself a favor by taking a look at this. Personally, I don't hold it in the place of reverence that many people do, but there are certainly some goods to be had here. For instance, while Slapstick, The Broadways, and Alkaline Trio have always kicked my ass, The Lawrence Arms, The Falcon, and The Honor System are thoroughly, thoroughly underwhelming. Emphasis on the former, albeit that statement may come across as heresy; the way I see it, they started off as an inferior version of The Broadways and slowly made their way into a dull-as-shit, glossy alt-punk waste of time.
Less Than Jake and Tuesday fall somewhere between the two. Admittedly, and somewhat embarrassingly, I actually like the pre-'96 material of the former, and regarding the latter, I only have the EP in the top left corner to indulge in.
Tuesday formed in '96, shortly after Slapstick's dissolution, and were able to clamp their collective sphincters for only a year before releasing the godawful Freewheelin' LP in '97. While the Early Summer EP was 4 tracks of catchy, bass-y, hard-hitting pop-punk with the combined vocal front of future Alkaline Trio bassist Dan Andriano and drummer Rob Kellenberger, Freewheelin' sounded like the band spent the intermediate phase smoking weed and listening to stacks of surface-level Midwestern emo albums. And I don't mean that in the American Football way, either; the band essentially took their infectious style of old, sucked all the life out of it, and slathered it in melodramatic cheese. It's a mess measured by the meter stick of those horrible acoustic songs on Goddamnit if you know what I mean.
Giant globs of criticism aside, Early Summer is great as it's followup is disappointing. At the time, the band were a trio, and the songwriting style was decidedly more in the Crimpshrine/Jawbreaker vein than anything approaching 3rd wave emo. Despite that, the 4 songs here sound surprisingly strong and fresh, with solid guitar hooks and as much care put into the verses as the choruses. Dan Andriano's voice has a lot of bite to it here in comparison to all future ventures, and actually sounds like he belongs in a punk band, which plays especially well off of Kellenberger's cleaner harmonies. My favorite song off of here has to be the closer, "So Awake" (which was later re-recorded as the much weaker "Too Much Of Today" on Freewheelin'), but the preceding 3 are just as strong. Also, I'm pretty sure that's the last positive love song Andriano would ever write.
http://www.mediafire.com/?bkmyawhmkq2
This EPs out of print as fuck, but I'm pretty sure you can get it cheap on discogs.com and amazon. After all, pretty much no one knows/gives a shit about this band anymore. Oh, and while I can't confirm this, I heard that The Honor System's demo sets everyone up for disappointment just as bad as Early Summer. At least Andriano didn't postulate that more pro-tools vocal effects would be the key to the kingdom. What the fuck, Hanaway.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Alkaline Trio - Maybe I'll Catch Fire

This is probably the least musically relevant thing I've ever utilized as an introduction, but it's something that just now crept out from my periphery: have you noticed that, like, 70% of the female populace between the ages of 16 and 35 are clad in membrane-snug black tights? They're probably the most revealing garment I've ever seen achieve this kind of homogeneity, especially when worn as a pants-substitute. To clarify, I don't intend this as a blue-balled, prudish/misogynist jab at women, as I understand almost everyone, regardless of sex, is caught somewhere in the fashion undertow, but I can't help but raise an eyebrow at how widespread this shit is. It's like a nationwide showcase of ass at the molecular level.

Anyway, to start, the handful of somewhat ambiguous jabs I've penned about Alkaline Trio in the past still stand. They are, and probably always will be, complete cornballs of the "dark" and angst-laden persuasion with lyrics that curdle milk. In fact, I could probably lambaste them in the same light as The Gaslight Anthem, who I dissed several months ago for their similarly laughable (albeit totally different) lyricism. Just like the aforementioned band, though, I've gone through a cycle of acceptance with Alkaline Trio illustrated below:
1.) Infatuation
2.) Light criticism of thematic elements/lyrics
3.) Total disdain and/or embarrassment followed by abandonment
4.) Re-visitation and light criticism
5.) Love of the material with a tongue planted firmly in cheek
And yeah, Maybe I'll Catch Fire is an album I really love, regardless of how fucking silly and un-relateable the lyrics are. Alkaline Trio are one of the most well-known branches of the Slapstick family tree and are a (duh) trio comprised of Dan Adriano of Tuesday, Slapstick, and eventually The Falcon, Matt Skiba (who's also in the unheard-by-me band Heavens), and Derek Grant, previously of The Suicide Machines and a zillion other bands.
This album is their sophomore effort, and the follow-up to 1998's excellent debut (except the two putrid acoustic tracks), Goddamnit. I can't remember exactly, but I'm pretty sure this is the band's most popular album, if not just for the band's staple encore song, "Radio", but it's definitely mine. The songwriting here is really strong, and less raw and bass-y than their first album, with the general pace slowed down to allow the melodies to really develop. I wouldn't call this an indie rock album, exactly, as tracks like "5-3 10-4", "She Took Him To The Lake", and "Madam Me" truck it pretty hard, but there's a distinct adaptation of a more rock-esque format here. Unlike almost every pop-punk band of the past 10 years, the dual vocal approach is considerably reserved, which makes the harmonies stand out a lot, especially in "You Got So Far To Go", which is easily one the album's best tracks next to "5-3 10-4", the dark-warmth of "Sleepyhead", and the refreshingly non-accusatory "She Took Him To The Lake". The latter's got a pretty typical theme of heartbreak, but despite the male described being abandoned, blame never gets heaped on the girl for being a vicious heartstomping witch or whatever bullshit you'd find in virtually every Descendents song.

http://www.mediafire.com/?fmey4i4jyym

In conclusion, I'm tired of sitting at the computer writing this. Also, if you've got a bias against this band due to their cheesy, "gawthic" image or perceived "emo-ness", try to ignore the lyrics. The music itself, vocals included, make for a really great package, and even the imagery's pretty vivid and satisfying once you stop taking it seriously. I guess I should probably mention "Radio", though, since everyone loves that song: it's pretty good. Unfortunately, it also contains the line “shaking like a dog shitting razor blades".
Hm.

Friday, November 4, 2011

Mixtapes - Maps

What sucks is that I actually want to operate this blog again. Also, after about a year's hiatus, I've resumed creating autobiographical comics to publish on a blog or something in hopes of a.) getting my name out there so I may begin freelancing and b.) feeling a semblance of personal fulfillment by putting my artistic leanings to use again. What sucks (while simultaneously "rules") is the fact that these two prospects will fall by the wayside so shortly after reinvigoration, seeing as I'm going vagabonding again for several months and may or may not return in a mindset conducive to writing about this kind of music.

And furthermore, (paragraph of personal bullshit prone to putting off any passerby) HA HA SELF PARODY JDGSJHD

Mixtapes are a Cincinnati, Ohio 4-piece comprised of 3 hairy dudes and a girl with Romulan bangs that play a form of punk music that sidles between the worlds of pop-punk and indie-pop without ever really matching up with the current climate of either genre. Which is to say, there's no intentionally poor production values utilized as a garage band tribute, heavy, springboard basslines, or vocalists that could use a lozenge. Also, as far as I can tell, they came out of fucking nowhere, which is totally confounding if only because of how incredibly good they are. I know "good" is not the most professional or descriptive term, but when so many aspects of a band sound this polished and mature, it's hard not to reach for umbrella terms. I don't like to sink into the eye-rolling depths of hyperbole, but for a debut, this is a pretty much flawless release.
Maps is 10 songs in 18 minutes, and contained within that microscopic running time are enough instantly memorable hooks, melodies, sing-a-long-able vocal harmonies and lyrics than most bands can muster between several LPs. The songs are all super short ditties that alternate between anthems, speedy pop-punk, and pretty acoustic tracks with a crystal clear production that makes the consistent juggling of modes sound perfectly natural and seamless. I wouldn't say there are any tracks here that standout among the rest, but considering the circumstances, I couldn't give a better compliment; in essence, pretty much every track on here is not only cohesive with it's surroundings, but also feels perfectly suited to exist outside of context, say, within a sentimental CD-R or cassette compilation format. Fuck you, I refuse to make a joke about the band's name.
Oh, also, there's a minimalistic yet prevalent use of piano which suits their sound really well.
try it here: http://www.mediafire.com/?uq3w3v2b980998x
buy it here: http://animalstyle.limitedpressing.com/products/13339
The two vocalists' interactions are probably the biggest hook the band employ, though. The earnest, quasi-snotty voice of (male-bodied vocalist) and the smokey, pretty voice of (female-bodied vocalist) intermingle in such a way that the lyrics are constantly comprehensible despite the two's knack for harmonizing. It's kinda like The Anniversary were less putrid and keyboard heavy and more punk rawk. The lyrics might put some people off, as they straddle the line between awkward and self-righteous, but goddamn could I relate to this just a few years back. A running theme here is the comfort in being alone, not partying, and quiet aggrandizement relating to allegiance to the two aforementioned themes. I might be reading too much into the posturing behind their lyrics, but they sound exactly like something I would've written as a painfully self-aware, socially awkward, self-described intellectual who's internal deprecation was only transformed into defensive pride by the upstroke of mood swings.

I dunno.

I want there to be a song called "Watching Porn On A Library Computer". Do you think Dillinger Four would make that song if we got a petition going?

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Rivethead - Cheap Wine Of Youth

Hey, do you guys (not gender specific) remember when "industrial metal" sounded like a cool idea? I actually don't, which is funny, because I was into some really shitty music that occupied the same microcosm in my proto-high school years. Fortunately nu-metal only sounded good as a 14 year old who had exposure to approximately nothing but shitty 70's rock and radio bullshit, so I don't feel much shame in admitting that - especially since I was over dung like Korn and Slipknot by the following year. Why am I writing this as an intro to Rivethead? Well, no good reason, just the fact that there's apparently an industrial metal band with the same moniker sharing a page on last.fm. For a few golden minutes, I thought the not-terrible Rivethead was touring again, but it turns out tattooed dorks with goatees and Ministry-fixations are still writing and performing tuneage for 13 year old angst buckets.

Rivethead’s a band I only got into through exposure to the member’s current/recent projects, and if you look at the list (Banner Pilot, Off With Their Heads, Dear Landlord, The Gateway District, etc), you'll instantly understand why giving this a spin was unavoidable. Cheap Wine Of Youth is their 2003 final statement, unfortunately, and the too-short follow-up to the similarly great 2001 EP, City Sound Number 5. Rumor has it the band actually concluded with a split with a band called Caulfield I've never heard, but it never saw the light of day.
Rivethead were a great, somewhat short-lived unit from Minneapolis, MN that played one of my favorite stylistic variations on pop-punk - Drunkscreechingweaselwithbeardscore. You know the kind; high-paced, sorta simple, super catchy songs with raspy, gruff vocals and tons of interplay/harmonies, and heavy, crunchy guitars that still retain that sweetness we all love as bubblegum chewing, Chuck Taylor brandishing youths. As I noted, this band's sound is definitely indebted to Ben "Complete Piece Of Shit" Weasel's classic-era Screeching Weasel, especially in regards to the clever use of multiple vocalists, but fortunately there's no "wuh-oh"s or early 90's girl-crazy, quasi-misogynistic lyrical cheese to be had.
Cheap Wine Of Youth is 9 classic tracks of 20-something angst, idealism, anger, and just enough sentimental imagery in the lyrics to make me wanna just get drunk and break into abandoned buildings. I guess this is more of a 12“ EP than a full length LP, but hey, if we can consider Gridlink’s Amber Gray a full length, then pretty much anything passes - the point is, despite the short running time (just over 20 minutes), this is a totally fulfilling listen, with awesome, fist-pumping songs like “48 Double Stack”, “Past Days”, “Traffic Street”, and “In My Heart A Warehouse Burns For You”, the very former-most of which is among my favorite songs in the pop-punk galaxy. Most importantly, the very latter contains the line "I love you just as much as I hate the man". Punk rawk.
http://www.mediafire.com/?1qmzfdz4tzm
If you dig these guys sound as much as I do, the next best thing you can do is pick up some Dear Landlord. I wouldn't say I like it quite as much as Rivethead, but it's stylistically the closest of the preceding projects, and just generally kicks the veritable ass. And hey, if you already dismissed the band's full length, Dream Homes, following the insurmountable fortress of hype built around it prior to it's release, give it another shot with expectations only for a solid, straightforward and catchy-as-shit pop punk album and you should enjoy it.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

P.S. Eliot - Introverted Romance In Our Troubled Minds

Hey guys, I'm back.

I may or may not have mentioned this, but I've been traveling/reinventing/mixing things up, so to speak. Did I have time for maintaining this blog? Yeah, probably, but well, I've never been one to not suck at almost everything... extra emphasis on adhering to a self-imposed schedule for creative expression. I mean, c'mon... who needs to actually express themselves through a selected medium? Isn't it always better to just ignore all impulses to create out of apathy/fear of failure until they've built up into black tumors of stress twisted throughout my psyche?

Of course it is.

This is normally the part where I'd give a brief bio of the band... as far as I remember, at least. It's been a while since I wrote anything here, so my old M.O.'s not so fresh in my mind anymore. Unfortunately, there's either close to no biographical information available online, or I'm just incapable of locating any. Basically, though, lead vocalist/guitarist/songwriter Katie Crutchfield teamed up with her sister Alison and one or two more instrument yielding human specimens and formed P.S. Eliot in '07 or '08. Or maybe it was just the sisters on the demo? I guess it doesn't really matter since we're (RAMBLE RAMBLE RAMBLE) not talking about the demo. Speaking of which, P.S. Eliot has released one fuzz-guitar demo called The Bike Wreck!!!, this here LP, an EP called Living In Squalor, and as of April this year, a 2nd LP called Sadie. Also, apparently Katie and Alison were in a band called The Ackleys I just found out about (and now desperately need material from), and currently operate in the adorable fuzzed-out pop punk band, Bad Banana, as well as Katie's acoustic project, Waxahatchee.

Likely uninteresting information aside, the band plays, in my mind, a perfectly balanced blend of lo-fi 90's indie rock and pop punk brimming with incisive, wordy, and somewhat nostalgic lyrics and that special brand of down-to-earth beauty that permeates throughout every aspect of their sound. In other words, this is one of those albums - the kind that I end up flogging for months on end and bullying it onto any friend of mine who'll listen. For your information, this list also includes The Sidekicks' Weight Of Air, Defiance Ohio's Share What Ya Got, and Common Rider's Last Wave Rockers - all near perfect and completely infectious albums you totally need.
The opening track of their hometown's namesake, "Tennessee", is a gorgeous low-key number that sounds like it was written specifically to be played on a foggy, heavy-hearted drive home at night through a shitty sound system. It's one of those songs that sound like they should go on forever. The rest of the album is more upbeat, but it's somewhat murky quality and the non-laughable English Major angsty-ness keeps it from floating too far into the cheery pop-punk realm. It never becomes a downer, though, and while tracks like "Sore Subject" and the amazing harmonica punctuated "Incoherent Love Songs" feature themes of realistic, dull, pain, they still end up on the "uplifting" end of the spectrum.
buy it here: http://www.salinasrecords.com/
try it here: http://www.mediafire.com/?yyxwn44znrt
Sadly, the band just announced they're throwing in the towel after 4 years of activity and a relocation to Brooklyn. I still haven't had the opportunity to see them yet, so there's no way in hell I'm missing their final show in the city this December. If you end up liking this, definitely check out all the aforementioned projects and releases - every one of them is worth a listen, and for the record, Bad Banana killed it at Plan-It-X Fest this year.

Also: Good to be back. Expect regular updates again from now on.
Tentatively.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Andrew Jackson Jihad - Issue Problems

More polk-funk for the completely uninitiated. I guess I'm trying to set up a basic grouping of current, talked-about bands before I go into the obscurer stuff. So far I've touched on Against Me! (albeit not a folk-punk release of theirs), Defiance, Ohio, Ghost Mice, and... that might be it as far as my memory serves. Oh, I guess twoeyes did a Tim Barry/folk punk rant, too. Alright fine, I just came up with the idea to make this a progression into less familiar territory. Fuck you.

Andrew Jackson Jihad
are a two-piece guitar & stand-up bass band from Phoenix, Arizona with a penchant for ridiculous, satirical lyrics and making stoned college kids laugh. Their earliest work (Candy Cigarettes & Cap Guns, Issue Problems, and Only God Can Judge Me) is very sparse, but People Who Can Eat People Are The Luckiest People In The World saw them fill out their sound with lots of additional instruments, and 2009's Can't Maintain had them "bringing it all back home" (ie electrifying their sound). Fortunately for all their fans, the changes they've made over the years haven't spoiled their core values at all. These guys tend to appeal to people who actually hate folk punk, too. Or at least, they had a big audience on the Mitch Clem forum - a dreadful cauldron of hoodlums and villains that didn't really dig the whole off-key wailing 20 somethings scratching on an acoustic. While I dig all of their stuff in relatively equal measure, I find myself listening to their first EP more than anything else - hence the review.
Issue Problems is basically a continuation of their debut LP, and is even more bare and rehearsal quality. It's only about 10 minutes long, and contains 6 songs, 5 of which were re-recorded for their second LP. The song "Powerplant" is the only one who got the boot, but still ended up snuggly on the split with Ghost Mice. The songs are all pretty simple, and apparently all recorded in one take, which lends it kind of a manic energy especially evident in whatshisname's warbly voice, spewing ridiculous, dark, and earnest lyrics in a way that's still somehow emotionally resonant. Maybe I just have a tendency to get "moved" too easily, though. Actually, there's really no maybe about it... "People" is definitely the highlight for me, which is just as paper airplane-simplistic as the rest of the tracks, but instantly accessible. I guess it's the joyous, realist view on how wonderfully, excitingly shitty everyone is that gets to me - a little more relateable than a first person account of slaughtering a family, for example.

If you're only familiar with the versions of these songs that were re-recorded and "beefed up" with additional instruments/tempos/etc, they might come across as a little barren and underwhelming. I don't really know how to remedy that, I guess, but for the record, I prefer them in this incarnate. The urgency and simplicity of these first takes is perfect, and the revisions seem to soften their impact. I think I'm in the minority, but give it a shot:
http://www.mediafire.com/?zfmngyoyy4y

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Dead Kennedys - Plastic Surgery Disasters

Okay, so the vegetarian thing is working out pretty well so far. I've gone down about 10 pounds unfortunately, but damn do I look good in a skimpy, sheer negligee for my gentlemen callers. Also, I'm a faux-veggie. I forgot to mention that, likely because no one on the entire planet cares so I wasn't feeling much pressure: basically, I'll eat meat on the basis that animals tend to eat meat, but not corpses bloated with antibiotics and force-fed mono-crops conducive to a slew of illnesses. Either way, that's my irrelevant intro this review.

This album is amazing. I know a lot of people tend to lean towards Fresh Fruit... and Frankenchrist when picking favorites, but for me, this is the single best album the Dead Kennedys ever released. I'm not gonna go through the history again, but basically I transitioned from death metal and grindcore to powerviolence and crust punk to anarcho and theeeeeennnn... good buddy Steve (I'm one of 4 Steves) lends me this album and the progression finally hits the roots. Plastic Surgery Disasters was the second LP length release by the band, and a total embrace of the hardcore velocity they hinted at with their debut. As such, the ur, "musicality" is taken down a notch in order to crank up to jet-speed, but the songwriting is just as memorable as ever. Plus, the B-side is all slower songs if that's what drew you in on Fresh Fruit... assuming anyone has ever been drawn to a punk band by the relative slowness. I dunno. I'm not really feeling too focused on honing the literary elements of this review, today.
The production on this album has garnered some complaints over the years for being as tinny and rough on the ears as it is, but I for one think it's the cornerstone of appeal. The raw, messy, but coherent sound is the stuff of legends, and the kind of production style I found loads of affection for through countless grindcore/hardcore/early death metal listening benders. Apparently it was intentional, though, as Jello revealed in some old interview that they wanted the sound to be just as paranoid and ear-trashing as the lyrics and vocal histrionics. Fucking heroic stance. The band's musicianship shines through as great as ever, though, with tons of catchy riffs, melodies, and creative hooks - it's just noisier than most people are used to when approaching a classic hardcore/punk album.
I'm not sure I could really pick highlights from here since this album actually makes my top 10 albums of forever list, but if you've never heard it for some reason, downloading "Well Paid Scientist", "Halloween", the epic "Riot", and the surprisingly pleasant "Moon Over Marin" probably won't make you curse your ears for not being vestigial. Every track is gold, though, so you may as well just grab this linky below:
http://www.mediafire.com/?oy0jemvyjej
I just stole this link from google, so I have no idea whether it's the original master or not, or whether the In God We Trust Inc. EP is tacked on the back, but there 'ya go.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Ghost Mice - Europe

Alright, time to showcase some more folk punk that really doesn't need any additional attention. I've honestly been wanting to write up some reviews for Hail Seizures, The Taxpayers, Blackbird Raum, and Dandelion Junk Queens (among others), but fuck promoting unfairly ignored bands, let's talk about Ghost Mice.

So yeah, I'll be covering those bands later on.

Ghost Mice is a two piece acoustic unit composed of Chris Johnston (aka Chris Clavin) and Hannah Jones, who play guitar and violin, respectively. They were involved in a bunch of bands I've never really dug, such as Operation: Cliff Clavin, The Devil Is Electric, I Like Japanese Hardcore, and Disarm (who I've never actually heard), but decided to strip down to their folk side in 2002 and form this here 2-piece. Apparently, it was an effort to cast off the stressful bullshit intrinsic with a being tear-ass'ing rawk 'n' rowl demolition unit (ie: the need for a tour van, lugging heavy instruments and amps around, being dependent on gas and cash to spread their wares, etc...). Fortunately, they struck some gold with this decision, because... I like Ghost Mice but not those other bands, I guess. That wasn't very well said. If you have a low tolerance for the cliches floating around this recent influx of folk-punk bands, it'd probably be wise to stop reading now, because these two embody most of, if not all of them. They can definitely get cheesy, and the loud whine of the vocals can get sorta grating if you're not in the mood, but here's the thing: I've found that a lot of the bands I've made a really deep connection with over the years embody an earnesty that overcomes all the technical stuff. If it can seep through the clunky vocals, overstated crescendos, and lyrical obtuseness, I'll probably love it regardless of it's flaws.
Anyway:
Europe is a concept album that details the band's 3 month trip across it's continental namesake without much cash, planning, or solid contacts to choose from. Every song details their experiences in different countries (including two nautical ones) and all the hardships and beauty they witnessed along the way. I know that an album is typically something you focus on musically first, and lyrically second, but this is one of those rare exceptions. The music is catchy and enjoyable enough - the typical sweet acoustic strumming and violin stuff - lacking most of the uptempo punkiness of their earlier work, but acts like more of a backdrop to the story being told than a guide. There's definitely cohesion and prosody at work here, but the focus for me has always been the story - primarily due to the effect it had on me when I first heard it. It just has a mesmerizing way of interjecting it's plot driven structure with this warm imagery and focus on the freedom inherent with non-committal travel. I know how dopey a statement like this can come across, especially if you really can't stand this kind of music, but it really only took one listen to convince me to enact my own backpacking trip through Europe. Moreover, the tag-team with Defiance, Ohio's Share What Ya Got got me restless enough to quit my job and go traveling a year ago. Folk punk ruined my standard American existence.
http://www.mediafire.com/?n2udm5ojyyq
Here's something that made me smile last week: a new friend of mine was telling me about her 4 month stay in Europe, and how great the experience was, and I ended up responding with the same mock-able statement I made above. Oddly enough, she listened to this same album on the way back and apparently drew a ridiculous amount of similarities between her stay and Ghost Mice's. I guess there's not much more to this story, but I thought it was cool that this album helped kick off my wanderlust and found her at the end of the same journey.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Terrible Fucking Songs

If you're on facebook, you've probably seen some asshole like me participating in the 30 Day Song Challenge thing. It's vaguely amusing, and an excellent chance to post songs no one will listen to, so I hopped on board about a week ago. When I reached the second day, which asks to narrow down the myriad of songs I hate to a single representative, there wasn't a moment's hesitation. This song is like a lightning rod for my storm of hatred:

Natasha Bedingfield sucks. No, more like "suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkssss". Just a particularly putrid example of modern pop music. Of course, after posting that, I couldn't help but unleash the list. Since I started working in Key Food back in 2005, I've been slowly cataloging all the songs I've grown to hate through constant exposure in the work environment. Take a look:
Marc Anthony - You Sang To Me
The Mamas And Papas - California Dreamin'
Donovan - Sunshine Superman
Phil Collins - In The Air Tonight
Enya - Sail Away
...Depeche Mode - Wrong
Gwen Stefani - Hollaback Girl
LFO - Summer Girls
Carrie Underwood - Just A Dream
Ida Maria - I Like You So Much Better When You're Naked
Jamie Foxx - Blame It On The Alcohol
Smashing Pumpkins - Disarm
The Ting Tings - Shut Up And Let Me Go
Stereo Total - I Love You Ono
Sweet - Little Willy
Three Dog Night - One
Hoobastank - The Reason
Lisa Stansfield - Around The World
Ryan Cabrera - True
Natasha Bedingfield - Unwritten
Jars Of Clay - Flood
Seether - Careless Whisper (Wham! cover)
The Bee Gees - Tragedy
...Peter Cetera - Glory Of Love
Kelly Clarkson - Since U Been Gone
Kelly Clarkson - Undo It
Stacey Q - Two Of Hearts
Leona Lewis - Bleeding Love
Rob Thomas - This Is How A Heart Breaks
Clay Aiken - Invisible
Human League - (Keep Feeling) Fascination
Leann Rimes - Can't Fight The Moonlight
Frankie Valle & The Four Seasons - Who Loves You
Vanessa Williams - Sometimes The Sun Goes Round The Moon

George Harrison - Got My Mind Set On You
David Cook - Permanent
Katy Perry - California Girlz
Katy Perry - Firework
...Katy Perry - Teenage Dream
Tal Bachman - She's So High
Trace Adkins - Honky Tonk Badonkadonk
Trailer Choir - Rockin' The Beer Gut
Sugarland - Stuck Like Glue
Alanis Morissette - Hand In My Pocket
Eminem - Not Afraid
Soulja Boi - She Got A Donk
Vanessa Williams - Save The Best For Last
Fergie - Fergalicious
Fergie - Big Girls Don't Cry
One Republic - All The Right Moves
Maroon 5 - She Will Be Loved
Justin Timberlake & One Republic - Apologize
No Doubt - Don't Speak
Orianthi - According To You
Paula Cole - I Don't Want To Wait
Glenn Frey - The Heat Is On
Don Henley - Dirty Laundry
Nickelback - This Afternoon


Also: 50th post. Whoooo!

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Indian Summer - s/t

Note: this has only been an emo-heavy month because I've been so lazy, not because I'm wallowing in self-pity and introspection. I'm actually doing purty swell emotionally, fyi. Most of these bands' sounds, however, have been permanently etched into my brain through prolonged exposure in high school, so it doesn't take me much effort to describe them or how they impact me. Fuck yeah, truckin' on through the apathy.

Indian Summer were a super-influential second wave emo band from Oakland, California who somehow made a major impact on the "genre" despite existing for virtually no time at all. The band never really toured, performed for less than a year, and only released 9 scattered tracks in really low quantities (hence the "collector prices" abounding). I guess it could be testament to how self-contained the scene was at the time, or how eager the kids were to seek out this kind of band, but it's really just the hindsight that blows my mind. If a band this low-scale could be so affecting, why have so few bands blown minds recently with the advent of the interbutt? Well... maybe they have, actually. It's probably hard for me to notice since I essentially grew up with it's reinvention of information sharing. Regardless, Indian Summer are now considered a staple band who can be name dropped amongst bands like Rites Of Spring, Moss Icon, and Sunny Day Real Estate, and it's baffling to think little they really did in a physical sense.
While the emo scene was already getting pretty dynamics-centric, and crescendos were a device for emotional payoff at the end of slow build-ups, Indian Summer's careening between twinkly, soft, guitar parts and loud, cathartic bursts was definitely a step up on both fronts. This self-titled EP from '93 is easily the band's most essential document, and contains my (and admittedly, a lot people's) two favorite songs. The opener, "Aren't You Angel", is one, and showcases especially well the exaggerated dynamics the band utilized. The song starts off quietly with whispers and a dark bassline before bursting into a crushingly blunt, driving, angular riff. Mid-song, the band begins to stutter the central riff with pauses of barely audible picking before stopping completely. The song restarts at the same super-delicate sound before finally delivering a big, gripping crescendo with a melody that makes you soil yourself super gross.
That last part was self-sabotage. Isn't it a BLAST to slog through descriptions of song structure? WHEEEEE!!!!

The shorter "Millimeter" is mostly centered on the angular, post-hardcore simplicity that dominates the first half of "Aren't You Angel", and is a great track despite living a "hard knock life" ie being sandwiched between their two most developed songs. The EP closes with "Angry Son", which is easily the band's most revered track, and often gets referred to as the essential emo song. It really is, though. It's still one of the most powerful songs I've ever heard, and often times it gets my eyes watering like a sissy*. It starts off with a quiet, lo-fidelity clip of some vocal jazz song before coming in slowly with an extremely pretty and soothing little riff that sounded incredibly nostalgic even the first time I heard it. When the whispering and twinkling finally break through into the heaviness, it's really moving. From there, the song resumes the first quiet riff as the vocalist softly speaks, this time accompanied by additional twinkly bits before finally exploding into an upgrade of the first instance of loud-dynamic complete with screaming and tears leaking out of your headphones. When I'd walk through the halls with this song playing, I always imagined all the lockers bursting open whenever the crescendo hit, and being surrounded by loose papers floating through the air. I know it's dumb, shut up. The song ends pretty much how it began, with the old record playing quietly. It's just an incredible song, and had/has a real effect on me, before and after discovering the lyrics.
You pretty much require this if you have any interest in emo before it got bastardized.
(I'll post this later)
For some reason, there was a text document with this list in it on one of my old zip drives. If you're interested, it's a list of the emo songs I thought would make a perfect introduction to the uninitiated back in the day.
In no particular order:
1.) Rites Of Spring - For Want Of
2.) Indian Summer - Angry Son
3.) Moss Icon - As Afterwards The Words Still Ring
4.) Don Martin Three - Connection
5.) Native Nod - Tangled
6.) Cap'n Jazz - Basil's Kite
7.) Constatine Sankathi - I'm An Android
8.) Republic Of Freedom Fighters - Calypso Syngenor Method
9.) Embrace - Dance Of Days
10.) Reach Out - Wall Street
11.) Honeywell - You And Me
12.) The Hated - Two People Blue
13.) Merel - The Guest
14.) Dag Nasty - Circles
15.) Sunny Day Real Estate - Song About An Angel
16.) Christie Front Drive - Turned On 8
*LOL @ a generalized put down of non-masculine men through self-deprecation

Monday, March 21, 2011

Rudimentary Peni - s/t

If you're familiar with any of the stereotypes associated with young death metal/grind/extreme music listeners, you have a pretty solid vision of me as a 9th & 10th grader. If not, imagine a paste white, poorly groomed kid with long hair that didn't make much eye contact, wore plaid longsleeves over gross band shirts and pretended not to care what people thought. Around this point, my basic criteria a band had to meet was to a.) tune their guitars to drop D, b.) vocalize in an utterly incoherent manner, c.) percuss like the drummer and his/her respective kit were tumbling down a flight of stairs, and d.) play either really, really fast or really, really slow. Somewhere along the lines, though, I "softened" my stance and learned to love crust punk and powerviolence, too. I noted them worthy for their similarly dumb-as-a-hammer approach to dynamics and rhythm, and unbeknown to me at the time, kicked off my obsession with punk rock.

Rudimentary Peni were one of those bands, and helped me bridge the gap between the "heavy-osity" of the crust punk scene and the anarcho scene they drew their sound from. Finding physical copies of their stuff proved impossible, so I hopped on the internet express to pirate-ville, and acquired The EPs Of RP, as well as their first LP, Death Church, and their over-the-top masterpiece, Cacophony. Their self-titled debut (aka Teenage Time Killer) chillin' in the left corner was my entry point since I have a built-in a mandate regarding chronology, and as such, became one of my favorites through heavy exposure.

The music here really isn't quite different from what the glut of British anarcho units were performing at the time, but even with the distorted, simple chord progressions and boom-chick drums, something rubbed me the wrong way when I first heard this. Coming from a musical background of extremes, with almost every element aurally scrawled in industrial sized sharpie, there was something really foreign about the band's sound. While the riffs are relatively straight forward, there's just something particularly ugly sounding about them, which if I'd have to guess, is attributable to the way they're played. I'm not Mr. KnowsShitAboutPlayingMusic, so I can't really elaborate, but there's definitely a seasick feeling in the delivery, as well as punctuations of feedback, scraping, and whatever else. Moreover, vocalist and cover artist Nick Blinko's vocals are nothing like the steady, shouted slur prominent in anarcho, but vary between two equally unusual modes. His screams sound extremely uneasy, almost as if he performed them while suffering hypothermia or something, with a harrowing, shakey, almost too urgent and high pitched delivery. On the other end, his low-register, slower deliveries sound sickly and drunken.

The great thing about being at an age where you're convinced that the key to the kingdom relies in the development of your musical eccentricities is this: you'll never be more patient with bands than you were when your persona supposedly rested upon it. This isn't to say I only listened to this shit out of image - I really, really enjoyed all of it - but when you finally land yourself an identity, compromise is hard to imagine. As such, through consistent exposure, I found myself giving in to Rudimentary Peni's idiosyncratic sound, and soon became a huge fan, sporting a smelly Farce t-shirt and a load of patches. This EP is short and sweet, delivering 12 short, catchy, and subtly weird tracks in record time. As I stated/implied earlier, it's pretty straightforward, especially in contrast to the ridiculousness of their second LP, Cacophony, but hey, this was released in '81. A band that pushed the envelope at a time where there barely even was a scene to feed off is something to celebrate.
Czech it out:
(I'll post this later since I'm in the library)
Also, the clitoris is the Rudimentary Peni(s).

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Assorted Jelly Beans - s/t

Before I begin, I must make clear that by sharing this album is not an attempt to convert you to an Assorted Jelly Beans fan, but simply a fan of this album. This is because everything else these guys ever recorded is terrible.
Here's a brief interaction with Mitch Clem on his now deceased forum:
Mitch: Assorted Jelly Beans first album is great; hornless ska-punk that sounds like the Beastie Boys playing Operation Ivy.
Me: Is anything else they did any good? I really love that album
Mitch: NO. Everything else they did sounds like an experiment to see how shitty a band could become before imploding
Me: oh.
I later tossed away this sagely advice in favor of forming my own opinion on the band's remaining catalog, and honestly, I'm probably worse for it. Y'know the age old phrase "ska-punk bands shouldn't attempt to hybridize with hip-hop"? Alright.
So anyway, Assorted Jelly Beans were an awesome ska-punk/ska-core/third wave 3-piece from California who did indeed sound similar to "the Beastie Boys play[ing] Operation Ivy". Their self-titled album was the first release from a few members of The Vandals' label - Kung Fu Records - in '96. Apparently, this actually sold 25K copies upon release, which seems fucking bizarre to me considering how little commercial potential these guys had. I guess it was the golden age of ska-punk, though... not that this would've appealed to a lot of Christian teens what with the cussin' and drug references.
That was my hilarious sweeping generalization of all Christian teens.
...but let me elaborate on the fact that I followed up a declaration of disdain for their later, more hip-hop-influenced material with a reiteration that they sound like a hip-hop group playing ska: it's the snotty, dual white kid vocalists that draw the parallel, not the music, exactly. I've never been a big Beastie Boys fan, but Assorted Jelly Beans' approximation of their sarcastic, self-parodying smart-assery elevates this disc way above what it would be with a more standard punk dude on the mic, and I definitely don't mean to belittle the riffage present. It's just that the vocals just sound so secure and confident in their ridiculousness that I can't help but love them. The songs are tight as hell, catchy, non-generic, and completely non-cheesy, making this one of the very few ska-punk albums I can listen to when I'm not in a skankin' mood aka close to accepting Skankin' Pickle as anything less than "dorky bullshit". I'm not sure I could pick stand outs, since every track is excellent, but "Braindead", "In Our Eyes", "Punk Rock Jock", and "Doobage" are likely my favorites of the bunch.
CHECK OUT THE PROFUNDITY:

"MY LIFE REVOLVES A-ROUND
BUYING AN OUNCE OR P-P-P-P-P-P-POUND"
Blockquote
This stuff truly heals the battered soul.
http://www.mediafire.com/?3ggkbmuyxy2

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Noothgrush - Erode The Person

I know I said I wouldn't do this again, but well, here's another post rescued from my old dumpster fire of a blog. Sometimes you post personal account of albums like they're going out of style, and sometimes you dawdle like stigmata's hindering your typing abilities. To be honest, this month is more like middling than that, but whatever, here's a re-post:

"Noothgrush were a Californian sludge-doom band who formed in 1994 and according to research from the finest institutes on the East coast, phuckin' rawked. If you've ever been subject to the filthy, druggy, frowning antics of sludge Machiavellis Eyehategod, you've essentially heard a less contemplative version of Noothgrush with far fewer odysseys into uptempo punk rock riffage. Despite treading through a bunch of rubble (ie 'broken ground' hurrrr...), these guys did a damn good job of taking a relatively limited style, honing it into something fresh and powerful, and then releasing it to the blessed in ridiculously limited quantities.
Erode The Person is 5 tracks of king-tier sludge truckin' it like molasses through the fog of the distinctive New Orleans sound (ie ugly, plodding, drug-influenced punk-ish doom metal with raspy screams and southern tinged riffage) in a way I'd rate above even the primordial soup of Buzzov*en and 13.
But not Grief. Those dudes are a forkin' goldmine to themselves."

Well that was shitty. I think I'd definitely rate it above Buzzov*en, considering people usually have higher opinions of things they like than things they have never really liked. Maybe I was pandering to the Buzzov*en fans? Whatever. This album is really good, though, and the comparisons still stand. It's prime filth-encrusted Black Sabbath-queued sludge that was apparently pretty big in the powerviolence scene during the mid-90's. They're not quite as amelodic and lurching as the sludge breaks you'll find in Man Is The Bastard's work, and definitely have a bit of a southern rock bend to them, but it's thankfully nowhere near as pronounced as it is on garbage like 16. I think you get the idea, though:
http://www.mediafire.com/?iwzzznmn24j
Okay, no more re-posts.

Unless I get desperate. Then it's permissible.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Constatine Sankathi - Who Killed The Killed Kid

LAST TIME ON "UNINTERESTING INTRODUCTORY RANT": Steve revealed to the world with startling aplomb the nature of his shocking new diet - one that could only be described as ovo-lacto vegetarian. The curtness of his reveal sent readers reeling, relationships into turmoil, and made the world step back and rethink their stance on eating the flesh of the innocent. Now the chronicles of this descent into slightly more livestock friendly dietary restrictions continues on today's gripping episode of "Uninteresting Introductory Rant"...

I made a portabella burger today with guacamole and cooked spinach with a side of sauteed tofu and red bell peppers. It was pretty yummy, especially with the white wine and sage, but I feel like the tofu could've used more time to brown. Not a big deal, though.

Constatine Sankathi - and sometimes Sankati Cunstatine, Constatine (Anima) Sankathi, and Constantine Sankathi - were a short lived second wave emo band from Chicago, IL (I think) who existed from the spring of '94 to the summer of '96. Over the course of their brief existence, they were made up of not only 5 central band members, but apparently about 15 or 16 part timers who contributed vocals, instruments, and whatever else. That's what I was able to gather from the lengthy photocopied booklet contained in their discography CD, Fucked In The Head, anyway. I guess it's not a crucial bit of info since they never exactly really go all Pet Sounds on us with a menagerie of instruments, but I thought it was kinda cool that they were such a community-friendly band. The awkwardly heartfelt retrospectives of each band member and contributor contained in the booklet definitely help to back up that idea, too, but I'm way too lazy to start scanning pages. Also, we're not discussing their discography, anyway, just this widdle 3 song 7" in the lefthand corner.

If you didn't guess, Constatine Sankathi were yet another emo band I "dug" (as the youth say) during my transition from the bleak and brutal side of music to the introspective and mopey. Like the best of the lot, these guys had an idiosyncratic sound few others captured, but still managed to fit snuggly under the emo banner. As you might expect from a band that existed for a little over 2 years, they weren't exactly prolific; Who Killed The Killed Kid is the only other standalone release besides the ridiculously titled Baby Unicorn Tripped Over A Rock And Hurt It's Throat And Then Vomited EP, but accompanied by a split with Bev. Clone and a bunch of compilation tracks (I guess). I know this makes it seem stupid to not just cover their discography CD instead, but really, listening to all 60 minutes in one sitting is pretty fucking exhausting, and come on, what band really intended their music to be digested like that?*

Who Killed The Killed Kid
is 3 tracks in a little under 10 minutes, but perfectly sums up what an unusual and interesting sound these guys had. I'm not honestly sure what's supposed to be the A or B side of this EP; one side has a doodle of a bunny on it and the other has a nondescript shape in a black box. I always listened to the side with "I'm An Android" first - side Bunny - so let's assume their lack of punctuality means they didn't really give a shit. This is the track that really got me into these guys: it starts off with feedback murk before someone remembers to start a really, really urgent riff with drums rat-a-tat'ing and what might be one or two different vocalists screeching behind the lead vocal dude. The hook here is really fucking cool, with a trumpet stopping the first riff dead in it's tracks and leading into the chorus. I could keep describing it, I guess, but you may as well just listen to it instead. It's just a really great song, all around. The other two aren't quite as weird or catchy, but they're both just as high quality. "Thanks For The Candy" starts off really aggressive, than goes into this weird lilt with the murmuring trumpet swaying along, concluding in another wave of cathartic aggression. "Husniyah" is structured more like you'd expect a song of this style to be, but with a screaming, punchy, chorus-esque part in the middle that eventually leads back to the clean guitars it opened with. Try it out, then find the rest of their stuff:
http://www.mediafire.com/?ym308atd2cu68jy
*If you were wondering how they fit an hour of music onto two 7"s and one 4 minute split, well, they didn't. There are eleven tracks on the discography CD that I've never been able to trace to any compilation, so your guess is as good as mine.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Hot Water Music - Finding The Rhythms

Y'see, like an unhealthy amount of emo-oriented stuff I write about, this album was a recommendation straight from Andy Radin's fourfa.com page. I realize how limited that makes my scope of the "genre" seem, but to rebut any potential criticism (or snarkiness), I've spent well over a year slogging through a literal fuckton of emo bands NOT mentioned on his site - everywhere from Turnip, Sweater Weather, Closure, Fingerprint, Agna Moraine's Autobiography, and Owltian Mia to a zillion others - and trust me, the stuff he points out is indeed the cream of the crop. There's definitely a mass of bands that I'd rate just as highly that he doesn't touch upon, but really, you couldn't get a much better introduction than Radin's site.
Speaking of sentences conveying information, there's pretty much no way you're unfamiliar with Hot Water Music if you're reading this blog right now. Hell, even if you've never heard a single HWM song, you've still undoubtedly encountered a band or six who draw heavily upon their sound. If I had to make a list of the most influential post-hardcore units of all time (ie the groups that spawned the most imitators), these guys would sit comfortably amongst groups like the most revered of the SST Records stall, Fugazi, Naked Raygun, Quicksand, Sunny Day Real Estate, and the band with most belated explosion of mimics, Cap'n Jazz. Look up the hilarious new term, "twinkle daddies" for elaboration on that last one, by the way.
For all the uninitiated:
Hot Water Music are a four piece from Gainesville, FL who formed in '93, broke up in '96, reformed the next year, persisted 'til '06, broke up again, and came back again in '08. I think it's safe to say that when they finally break up for good, the impact might take a few years to finally hit us. The band's sound consists of dual gruff vocalists weaving in an out of each others' shouted declarations with juxtaposing tones (even lyrics, occasionally) against a backdrop of busy percussion, really warm and pretty basslines, and crunchy, melodic, and sometimes dissonant guitar interplay. They're probably most revered for their presence amongst the early 90's emocore bands, but have influenced tons and tons of pop-punk and post-hardcore bands, too.
Also, they've been officially knighted by the punknews crew.

Finding The Rhythms is the first LP length release by the band, and is a mash-up of their Eating The Filler 7", the split with Swivel Stick, a few compilation songs, and what I believe were 6 newly recorded tracks (tracks 1,2,4,5,6,7). I could be wrong about some of that, but whatever. Oh, and for clarity, it's the 12 track CD version I'm talking about, not the 10 track original LP version. It's also the first "album" by the band that I checked out, and for the most part, still contains my favorite songs they ever wrote. Just listen to tracks like "The Passing", the amazing "Counting Numbers" and "Practice In Blue", the more traditional pop-punkiness of "Floor", and the anthemic power of the 6+ minutes "Eating The Filler". As testament to how consistently great of a compilation this is, it actually seems more relevant to point out the few flaws it has than try to pick highlights. For example, while "Incisions" is a really great song, it's unfortunately vocally led by bassist Jason Black. While Black is probably the single band member who completely sells their sound for me with his incredible basslines, his singing voice is pretty goddamn bad. I know it's funny to criticize someone in this band's singing voice when both leads are almost totally incoherent, but his clean, whiny warble really doesn't do it for me. "Present" is the only song on here that could've been completely cut, since when it's not meandering, it sounds way too "tuff" and boring, especially in the wake of "Recliner". Other than that, I've always felt "Arms Can't Stretch" was a little too long for how few parts it contains, but it's by no means a bad song.
Check out this awesome clip of "Floor" from '95:

Way too many people bypass this collection for their later, more revered work, but if you're a fan of this band, or even just curious about all the hype, you absolutely need this. It's not perfect, but the best songs on here more than make up for any flaws. If you're a newcomer, follow this up with Fuel For The Hate Game and No Division, which are both equally great full lengths.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Suppression - Degradation/Elimination Of The Robot Swine-Pig

I'm fucking exhausted. Managing the entire produce department alone can go eat a dick. If I haven't mentioned this yet, come June, I'm gonna quit my job and head out across the country on a bike, again. I attempted it last year, but amazingly, the poor planning didn't quite coalesce with the overall hardship as well as I'd hoped. I bring this up primarily because it'll signify a lengthy break for this blog; one that'll likely last 2 or 3 months. Just thought I'd mention it to whoever reads this.

Anyway, Suppression.

Back in high school when I first discovered powerviolence, instead of doing research on the genre's progenitors or asking around for suggestions, I pretty much just grabbed a bunch of band names I remembered reading on the Underground Obituary forum and let the downloads roll in. Fortunately, this approach paid off in spades, as I not only happened upon most of the classics (Man Is The Bastard, Capitalist Casualties, Crossed Out, Dropdead) but also got closely acquainted with a bunch of considerably more obscure bands (Gasp, Quattro Stagioni, Stapled Shut, MK-Ultra) as well as some complete shit (Sylvester Staline, Rainbow Of Death, Apathetic Ronald McDonald, Graf Orlock... who aren't PV, but I checked them out thinking they were. Kinda like finding owl droppings as your Cracker Jack prize). Suppression fall into the middle category, apparently, even though they played right at PV's high point. Just check out their last.fm as an example - only a little over 15 hundred listeners. I realize that's far from an accurate core sample of their fanbase, but it's still really dinky for a band that's been around for 2 decades. Maybe all their true fans just spin their vinyl still.
So alright, now that we have that bunch of uninteresting bullshit assembled, let's move on. For the first half of their career, Suppression played powerviolence the old fashion way - really raw, roughly produced, and dissonant hardcore punk-esque music that alternated between completely caustic, hyperspeed bursts of energy and filthy sounding sludge, all augmented in general unpleasantness by Man Is The Bastard-esque noise interludes. If you're unfamiliar with what might be termed "new fashion" PV (as opposed to what Suppression play), then think of bands like Charles Bronson, Combatwoundveteran, or the later Spazz albums - still intense as hell but lacking that scummy rawness that made the bands seem like a bunch of lowlifes or druggies or something. Well, I guess Infest might resent that, but I mean it in an endearing way, of course.
Degradation/Elimination Of The Robot Swine-Pig is actually a split 12" with Italy's crust-grinders, Cripple Bastards, and is the longest thing these guys would release before abandoning PV altogether. Regardless, this puppy clocks in at only 17 minutes, but it's an insane 17 minutes - ultra noisy, uncompromising, feedback-laden, and recorded in that special way that makes everything sound like it's barely under control and about to burst. Awesome stuff.
http://www.mediafire.com/?2dps698sk3gsuki
I know I didn't really do them justice here, but this is the full release, containing all 23 Cripple Bastards tracks. I think they're all rough versions of songs from their first album, Your Lies In Check, but it's been a while since I've heard either release. Frankly, grindcore doesn't move me quite the way it used to, but fortunately powerviolence still kicks my ass. If you dig 'em both, this is an essential download.

ADDENDUM: I forgot to add this before - Suppression is still active today, but they're nothing like the band you'll hear on this split. They're just kind of a jokey noisecore band now without any of the aggression that made them so great. If you're interested in more primo cuts, pick up the 9296 CD here. It's got this as well as all their EPs, splits, and some bonus tracks.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Paint It Black/Punch/Iron Chic/Vaccine/Zombie Dogs Show

I think I mentioned this show a few posts back, but if I didn't, here goes.
A few weeks ago, fellow staff dudes Sean and Jack noted on facebook that they were attending a show in Brooklyn headlined by Paint It Black. Seeing as NYC is about as far as I'm typically capable of traveling on a loaded school & work schedule, I made an exaggerated "ooo!" face and made my way to the show's page to check it out. I'm a fan of Paint It Black, and I really like Iron Chic, but the fact that Punch was finally playing another show in the area was what sold me, especially since I fucked up 2 opportunities to see them in just the past year. Ever since the heroic and totally missed Bammy Rabbit (or Tabitha) of the "Kamikaze Tailspin" blog introduced me to Punch through a conversation on last.fm, I've given them a pretty regular spin. They're probably my favorite current hardcore band, and Bammy's description of their live show (as well as the ridiculous distance she traveled to see them on their s/t LP's launch gig) had me convinced there was necessity in hearing them in person.
Unfortunately, I slacked a bit and didn't watch for the tickets to go on sale EVERY GODDAMN SECOND and they sold out almost instantly. I guess it had to do with Paint It Black barely ever playing or something. I dunno. I responded to one girl's offer, but then she started a bidding war and the price bloated up from 12 bucks to 60. In a last ditch effort, I-
You know what? Who cares?

1.) Zombie Dogs
Alright, so the show opened with Zombie Dogs, a local all-girl hardcore band I'd never heard before. They put on a decent show despite how few people in the audience seemed to be familiar with them, but all I kept thinking was "This band sounds like a 45 played on 33". Well, maybe their condition isn't that extreme, but the correlation certainly wasn't irrelevant, especially when I listened to the recorded versions afterward. The four are pretty obviously influenced by classic 80's hardcore - and who could hold it against them? - but I feel like I'd really dig them if they'd approximate the reckless abandon of their influences.
Check 'em out:
http://www.myspace.com/zombiedogsnyc
2.) Vaccine
Didn't show up. Frownie emoticon. They're really good, though, so that implied frownie emoticon is legit as they come. They're made up of members of Think I Care, Ampere, and a couple others and play that ripping brand of straight edge powerviolence only someone with a heart of stone couldn't love. Also: almost every living being. It's easy to forget how extreme music dances on the fringe. They've got a great demo out, as well as an EP I haven't heard, and apparently a 5" in the works. 5" records are hilarious.
http://www.vaccinexxx.blogspot.com/
3.) Iron Chic
Sean just reviewed these guys a few weeks back, which you can check out here.
Iron Chic is one of the jillion post-Latterman bands, and probably my second favorite following the incredible RVIVR. Also, they apparently boot many an ass in a live setting, and within seconds threw half the audience into a screaming, flailing, trance. It's bands like this that really require the listener to get the lyrics down, because there's really nothing more cathartic and energizing than screaming every word with the vocalists and audience melding into one gigantic chorus. Even though it got lost under the screaming sometimes, they were extremely tight, and the instrument-less vocalist (pictured above) had an hilarious stage presence, looking like he was rolling on E or something, with his fingers curling through his hair as he swayed back and fourth. Awesome.
http://www.myspace.com/ironchicsmyspace
4.) Punch
Punch were easily the highlight for me, completely justifying the past year's struggles. The singer, Meghan, humbly introduced the band, feedback rose, and the band's brand of ass-tearing edge-violence exploded without another word. Admittedly, I probably thrashed around a bit too much for the current, Winter-induced patheticness of my physical being to handle, but hey, sometimes sacrifices must be made for punk rawk. I guess it goes without saying that the band completely floored me, but, well, there it is. Being a pretty proficient not-musician, I've always been amazed to witness a band perfectly replicate the inhuman speed, aggression, and tightness they display on record, and Punch did just that. If you're a fan of these guys and haven't seen them in the flesh yet, I highly recommend paying way too much for a secondhand ticket at the last second. Probably the most fun I had since the Capitalist Casualties performance at last year's Maryland Deathfest where this monster truck of a man picked me up and threw me into a bunch of crusty girls. Good times.
http://www.myspace.com/punchcrew

5.) Paint It Black
To be honest, before this show, I probably hadn't listened to Paint It Black in over a year. At the tail end of high school, I went into a super heavy Lifetime/Kid Dynamite/Paint It Black/New Mexican Disaster Squad melodic hardcore phase, reveling primarily in the fact that they all sounded like somewhat different incarnations of the same band (topically, not dissimilar to the post-Latterman family I mentioned earlier). Due to the time spent apart, I can't say they were quite the release Punch and Iron Chic were, but they put on a great show nonetheless, with the highlights of course, being the small handful of songs I could actually recall the lyrics to. Bonus points go to the vocalist for his introductory rant about "bro shit" like feet first stage diving and whirling dervish moshing being exclusionary and "no longer part of this scene." A few points get knocked off because he made me feel bad about losing my shit to Punch and I'm a vindictive jerk.
http://www.myspace.com/paintitblack
All in all, an incredible show I'm glad I shelled out for. Unfortunately, me, Jack, and his friend Mike came home (back to Jack's dorm) to a drunken pit of screaming, glass-breaking, cacophony that wouldn't let up til 4 AM - arguably not the best conditions to fall asleep to.
Apparently Hoboken celebrates St. Patrick's Day 12 days early?

Monday, February 21, 2011

Black Flag - The Process Of Weeding Out

(apparently I forgot to publish this review after I wrote it. oops.)

Black Flag need no real introduction - especially from a 20-something kid from the New York countryside. Chances are, if you like pretty much anything on this blog, you like or are at least aware of Black Flag and the impact they had on punk rock; namely, helping to pioneer hardcore punk, creating one of the most dark and idiosyncratic punk albums ever with Damaged, and then unapologetically following their own muse for years despite alienating much of their original audience. The EP in the upper left corner is a product of the latter phase, and one of the two most consistently discredited albums they ever released. Since I happen to like it a lot, I figure at the end of days, when I've left my corporal body and stand at the gates of an other-wordly utopia, I'll finally be able to cash in this golden ticket of indie cred for never-ending, constantly infatuating pleasure. Or at least, that's my theory on the reasoning behind hip youths smugly dismissing peers and subtly self-aggrandizing using the hard work of musicians and artists they've never met. I mean, come on, why else would they do it?

Now it's no secret that I like way out there bullshit about as much as punk (check out my old blog as testament), so The Process Of Weeding Out works as a happy medium. Instead of taking the hardcore, Sabbath-y sludge, or dopey heavy metal route, the band decided to further explore the sort of raw, quasi-jazz damaged improv-rock they inhabited the B-side of Family Man with. If you're not familiar with Family Man, it actually does deserve a lot of the dismissal it gets. The first side features Henry doing some pretty excruciating spoken word, but if you didn't immediately take it off the table when the needle stung the center, the B-side is actually pretty good. Not as good as this, though, [redundancy]which is why I'm reviewing it of course[/redundancy]. Sorry, I'm tired.
Anyway, The Process Of Weeding Out is 4 tracks clocking in at a little under a half hour, and features Greg Ginn in peak "losing his shit" form, letting lose a flood of messy, stinging guitar improv on top of a somewhat more composed selection of bass and drum grooves. When I first heard this, I was kinda disappointed that Ginn didn't really get more aggressive, but after a few listens, it began to make more sense. There's a lot of repetition here, especially in the title track, but the loose playing style keeps everything sounding fresh and hypnotic throughout. If you're an established fan of the band, you know they always take a while to sink in, and this is no exception - it sounds like Black Flag regardless of how different the material is.
http://www.mediafire.com/?bzzyhqztmju

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Discount - Half Fiction

First off, I'm really happy I haven't been the only one posting this month, so thanks to all the staff guys who've been contributing. I've been kind of scatterbrained/preoccupied with things that everyone reading this would find utterly un-compelling. Oh! But I did score a ticket to the way sold-out Paint It Black/Punch/Iron Chic/Vaccine show in Brooklyn, so ain't nuthin' gunna break mah' stride. Especially not that local Laura Stevenson & The Cans/Paul Baribeau show. Not that I feared it would, but you understand comedic phrasing, right?

I figure since I introduced Discount here with their final album, I may as well start heading in reverse chronological order to continuing heaping on the praise. Today I'm covering their second, and most well-loved album, Half Fiction. I already described the band's sound in the last review, but if you don't feel like backtracking, they played really hooky, high quality pop-punk rooted in the classic East Bay sound with the amazing, exuberant vocals of Alison Mosshart at the helm. On their third album, Crash Diagnostic, they mashed that sound together with post-hardcore (and created one of my favorite albums ever) but this one fits the first descriptor to a tee/"t"/whatever. It's about as straight forward as their preceding album, but everything has been smoothed out thanks to a much cleaner production, with the songs having become much more vocal driven (with Alison's voice brought to the forefront where it belongs), more dynamics at play, and the band as a whole sounding just as youthful and honest as they used to, but more practiced and comfortable.
I feel the "honest" remark in that sentence needs to be emphasized: Discount circa-Half Fiction sound like a band who accidentally became something amazing while pursuing something simple and personal, like playing the music they wanted to hear or simply trying to express themselves. As far as my travels have taken me, the band is one of the few that conveys almost no self-awareness, with absolutely no punk posturing or seemingly any intent beyond what's presented in the material. I know it sounds like a case of trying to use an intangible impression as a selling point, but I think it's clear when you give it a listen.

As far as the actual songs go, this is flawless from start to finish. And in case that didn't sound like hyperbole enough, I'd probably call this one of the best pop-punk albums ever. It doesn't tread into experimental territory like Crash Diagnostic, and aside the comparatively subdued "Toxic Home", this is pure, energetic, often surprisingly pretty pop-punk without a single weak moment all the way through. I don't know if I can really list highlights considering how consistent the album is both in terms of style and quality, but I'd probably list "Torn Jeans", "Keith", "The Usual Bad", and "Dreamt This Was A Castle" as my favorites. None of them have quite the emotional impact on me a lot of the songs on Crash Diagnostic (or challenge the position of "Math Won't Miss You" as the best Discount song), but that's more of an issue of sentimental value than anything you should be concerned about.
http://www.mediafire.com/?ngyymmwgvx6
If you're new to the genre, or just looking for the greats, this album is pretty much mandatory; up there with Crimpshrine's Duct Tape Soup, The Broadways' Broken Star, Dillinger Four's Midwestern Songs Of The Americas, Apocalypse Hoboken's Easy Instructions For Complex Machinery, and pretty much everything J Church ever did.
I mentioned this in the Crash Diagnostic review, but it bears repeating: if you dig Discount and Alison Mosshart's vocals, that's criteria enough not to bother checking out The Kills or The Dead Weather. If I wasn't informed that Alison was involved with either unit, I would've had no clue - and she provides most of the fucking vocals! Don't bother unless super-affected, incredibly dull, yet critically lauded pseudo-garage rock bullshit is up your alley.