CD Reviews
Photo by Chris Kline
THE MODEL SONS
Lies / $ Records
The Story of My Love
5 songs
So few songs, so much rockin’. Every song on here is entirely worth listening to, and I had it stuck in my CD player for a solid week, which is unusual for a CD I’m given to review. I don’t really know what other bands to equate their sound with, but they definitely rock it up good. They eschew the traditional solo work of most guitar driven bands, and instead concentrate on dueling, layered guitar riffs; almost invoking The Strokes, but in much harder setting. And not only do they execute time changes skillfully, they do it tastefully. I can’t think of how many bands try to play in 5/17 or something just to prove they can, when they ought to be thinking about if they should. The drum lines are steady and driving, but at the same time clever and unusual. I particularly like the way they drop in on “Steady Hands.” The guitars lead you to believe they’re going one way with the verse, but then the drums come in and slow it down and take it somewhere else entirely. These are some good ole Boston boys, playing some good ole Boston rock, so get out there, buy the EP, see the show and support them. They definitely deserve it. (Erich Hagan)
THE ELECTRAS
The Electras
13 songs
In 1962, a bunch of blue-blood preppies from St. Paul’s Academy in Concord, NH, were encouraged by their fans to cut a record for posterity. They set up in the school’s band room, borrowed a friend’s Ampex reel-to-reel tape deck and one microphone, and blasted out 13 primitive ’60s rockers. Inspired by The Invictas from Phillips Academy in Andover, they also chose a band name that paid homage to one of Buick’s sporty cars. Despite their ambition to meet girls, the musicians soon found out that all the action was taking place on the dance floor. However, they had their camaraderie and music that helped get them through the grueling academic experience.
Drawing inspiration from the Ventures and Link Wray, this mostly instrumental septet played school-sanctioned tea dances and other society events, rocking out with rollicking renditions of “Shanghaid,” “Summertime Blues,” “Torquay,” and “Yellow Jacket.”
For years this record was a desirable artifact for diehard collectors of Sixties rock and the remaining copies of the 500 vanity pressing dissipated into the netherworld of obscurity. That is, until this writer exposed the fact that their bassist (described on the back jacket as “the producer of a pulsating rhythm that lends tremendous force to all the numbers”) was none other than presidential candidate JOHN KERRY!
Ever since the Washington Post broke the story last February, major media coverage has appeared in Rolling Stone, People Magazine, Newsweek, the Boston Globe and Herald, Inside Edition, and Deborah Norville Tonight. This remarkable human-interest story can only help humanize Kerry’s stiff image and both a reissue and reunion seem imminent. Recently a fairly worn copy was auctioned on eBay for the staggering amount of $2551.
Objectively this rough diamond (or diamond in the rough) is an extremely cool document of a bygone era and one that Kerry should be extremely proud of. There is no question who will get my vote in November! (Erik Lindgren)
VARIOUS ARTISTS
Man With a Gun
The Pill
Tomorrow Never Happened
15 songs
This record was intensely hyped, and rightfully so. Including songs from The Cignal, Emergency Music, The Information, The Bon Savants, Mittens, The Good North, Aerial Love Feed, December Sound, and Baby Strange, it really backs up all the buzz that it generated. So, chances are, you’ve already heard it by now, but just in case, here are some of the highlights, and this is totally subjective, of course
The Cignal kicks it off into high gear with “Missteps,” a furious dance anthem fueled by Stephen Morris-ish drums and a rainbow of guitar and keyboard, aggressively topped off by a fine growling vocal. Both songs by Emergency Music feature beautiful harmonies and songs crafted so tightly that you have to recognize why they are an indie staple in town. The Information’s “So Clear” is also aggressive and fun. The mix of warm guitar fuzziness and ice cold keyboards is really hard to ignore. The Bon Savants cleanse the palate with Thom’s smooth, low voice, and the bass in “Why This Could Never Work Between Us,” which is funkier and smoother than a lot of the other tracks on the disc. The Good North’s “Not Feeling It,” and Baby Strange’s “Don’t Care,” also stand out as fast, fun, and rocking. The December Sound closes it all out with a good bit of bombast on “Signal Flow.” Chances are, you’ve heard these songs by now. If not, go get music from the Pill.
You HAVE to SWEAT it! (Ryan Lee)
LARS VEGAS
Skycap Records
Meatland
15 songs
Why me? This is the second month in a row I’ve gotten a record that opens with a guy singin’ about how he likes baloney. Didn’t this band used to be cool? I think I know what happened. They saw too many reviews praising their “quirkiness” and figured that was the thing to exploit. Now they’re all about the zany, except no one told ’em that adding horns doesn’t equal an actual sense of humor. This is sub-faux-jazz as intended for frat boys. The vocals are that lifeless/ “ironic” bit where the guy’s trying to sound all fuzzy and confused, probably because some cheeseball dame told him it was cute. As thoroughly annoying as all this is, though, they DID accomplish something historic. In all the years I’ve been with this godforsaken rag, this is the first record I’ve ever ripped outta the player because of the lyrics alone. Yep, they’re really that awful. “I’m a pickle now what are you/ And all my friends are pickles too/ Now some people say/ That coconuts and pickles/ They don’t mix/ Well if you think that is true/ Lars Vegas has got news for you.” Then they get really deep with stuff like “Hair In The Tub Water” and “I’m Your Dentist.” They might wanna consider that even the greatest music in the WORLD can be rendered unbearable by this kinda grade-school horseshit. (Joe Coughlin)
WHEAT
Columbia
Per Second, Per Second, Per Second
Every Second
14 songs
On Wheat’s third LP the intriguing arrangements and subtle production effects don’t fully disguise the conventional nature of these mostly unabashed pop songs, but so what? Okay, so maybe, music-trend-wise, the Morrissey-like tentative-and-uncertain-and-diffident shtick is growing old, but these guys pull it off with panache. Strangely enough, on tracks like “Breathe” or “Closer to Mercury,” the compositional ethos is the Paul McCartney/ Ray Davies school of tasty guitar-licks-yoked-to-melodic-quirks-are- just-as-good-as actual-songs. Or check out “Go Get the Cops” or “Hey So Long” for the Yo La Tengo school of “See-sawing rhythm equals excitement.” Or “These Are Things” for the U2 school of reverb-plus-anthemic- vocal-pronunciatos-equals-significance. This is a gimmick-ripe band with a trick bag chock-jam full of aggressively good hooks (see “Life Still Applies”). If I were a teenaged girl I’d squeal that they’re Just So Cute! Testosterone and senescence preclude that asseveration, so I’ll just say that listening to this CD makes me feel good, real good. Maybe I’m being manipulated, but a song like “Can’t Wash It Off” is a rare and wonderful thing, like watching fireworks in slow motion. And they are kinda cute. (Tee hee.) (Francis DiMenno)
THE JACK McCOYS
In Gray Light
8 songs
It took me three tries to get into In Gray Light, the final recording from Boston’s Jack McCoys. That’s not their fault; it was mine. You have to be in a very special place to appreciate what this band did; you need to be centered, and focused, and fully open to the experience. This is not a record you can play in the background while you’re ironing or opening the mail. You need to give yourself to it 100%, or it won’t come together for you. The casual listener will hear a squall of competing guitars, erratic drumbeats, and whispered vocals. But let the music come to you, and you’ll be enveloped in a symphony of sound and rhythm, an experience that’s at once idyllic and pastoral. What a shame that the Jack McCoys decided to disband when they’ve finally figured out how to record Matt Savage’s uniquely soft vocals. I once said that Matt sounds like he’s inhaling when he’s singing. And in a band with as many amplified instruments as the Jack McCoys (or even in his and guitarist Dan Madri’s much-beloved earlier project, Godboy,) it was all too easy for that voice to be gobbled up and buried by the big dirty-ass rhythm guitar sound that hogs the mid-range of most indie-rock recordings. On In Gray Light, Savage’s voice finally conquers and tames the din around him, like Tinkerbell shining brightly through the inky darkness of Neverland’s night. If you give this music a chance, you’ll be enchanted by it, subsumed by it, and transported to a very special place, where’s Matt’s lyrics flow like the poetry they are and the band’s seemingly random tumult of sound comes together in transcendental melodies. Good-bye, Jack McCoys; it was good to know ye. thejackmccoys.com (Jim Testa)
PETER C JOHNSON
Hi-N-Dry
Soul Sherpa
11 songs
Boozy, woozy singer/songwriter Peter Johnson is a 35 year vet of the “biz” who, it sez here, once opened up for the Velvet Underground, which means his hipster street-cred trumps yours and mine by about a thousand, so let us forgive him for the maddeningly pretentious title of this ‘un. The songs on Soul Sherpa are drawling country-blues, reminiscent of Kris Kristofferson and Mark Lanegan, delivered in an authentic cigarette rasp, and accented with sweetly chiming guitars and exotic, chikka-chikka percussion. The overall effect is like walking into some cocktail jazz lounge in a jungle outpost somewhere, and being greeted by a leathery Yank in a cream colored suit at the end of the bar, who chain-smokes and prattles on in jivey slang about nothin’ in particular (“You’re reading like junk mail, baby/ I’m not buying you”). But he sounds cool, like Lou Reed or somebody, and he’s the only one that knows how to get outta this here hellhole, so ya listen anyway. You know, a real “Kling Klang King of the Rim Ram Room” type. It’s pretty swanky stuff, this Soul Sherpa business, and I betcha it’s perfect for checking in to rehab, or at least pacing around outside the liquor store, waiting for it to open. (Sleazegrinder)
HEADBAND
The New Buzzards
8 songs
I love it when bands give you more reasons to enjoy a record than just the music. For instance, the cover (a photo of a TV on the floor, with a heavy metal band on the screen, an amplifier and a knocked-over Bud behind it). Or the back cover (a photo of inside a factory chicken farm). Or the booklet, which is half blank and contains only the lyric, “Born on a mountain/ Raised in a cave/ Partyin’ and rockin’ are all I crave.” Or the ostensible press sheet (irregular scrap paper that might be from the garbage, handwritten in tiny letters with a huge magic marker, so that it’s all bled together illegibly, and the band’s name snipped from a Xerox and scotch taped to the mess, like someone couldn’t just write that as well. Or the inlay card (an uncredited painting of a dead bird. At least I think it’s dead). Or the label on the disc, with a minimum of what might be otherwise useful info, except the words are typed over each other in multiple layers. And I think, “Anything this completely fuckin’ BAKED has GOTTA have some good stuff on it.” And it does. It sounds… well, a lot like it looks. Like a small group of friends, all blown out and half-dickin’ around… occasionally silly and clumsy as fuck, but at least you’re sure it’s not about the money. Kinda like rock-in-spite-of-itself. In other words, all the right people will hate it. (Joe Coughlin)
WESTFORD TEEN ARTS COUNCIL
Rising Stars Compilation 2003
17 songs
I admit, I was in an inordinately generous mood when I snabbed this baby. It’s put out by a volunteer organization which promotes and encourages arts in the teenage community of Westford, Massachusetts, and is obviously at first glance an enormous labor of love on the parts of all involved. And yeah, I once raved about the Randolph High School Band in these pages, and meant it, but I wonder if I have even less business reviewing this than I do most things, since (a) the teens in question aspire to sound like established mainstream acts, understandably of course, (b) someone’s sure to show this to ’em, and (c) people kind of expect me to be an asshole at this point. But as much as I dislike the bands these kids emulate, they do an infinitely better job with their chosen genres than the actual bands in question. I never thought I could sit here and listen to (let alone enjoy) emo-type stuff, Tori Amos and Fiona Apple knockoffs, white-boy hip-hop, new-agey string work, Dashboard Indigo Confessional Girls, or Filter and Violent Femmes takes. There’s even something that sounds like Penguin Café Orchestra. These kids got it goin’ on in ways they may not even be aware of. Frankly, I’m stunned. Hopeful, even. Magnificent jobs all around, and every town in the world should have a program like this. More, please. (Joe Coughlin)
THE PSYCHOPATHS
Deceased Aardvark
Have a Nice Day
9 songs
Betraying their name completely, The Psychopaths are not remotely loony or dangerous. Whatever happened to the days when bands named themselves after something they actually were, like, uh, Quitter, or Nasty Savage? Anyway, these faux psychos are a buncha 40-something softbellies, and they play right-of-the-dial, pre-“Alt-Nation” ’80s jizz—think a hoary cross ‘tween Platinum Blonde and Talking Heads. Presumably, this is all just a bit o’ fun for the fellas, as the songs tackle less than serious issues like eating chunks of linoleum and well, I can’t fathom what “Hot Diggity Dog Diggity Cat Diggity Mouse” could possibly be about, but safe to say, it’s probably fucking stupid. About the only thing I can tell you about The Psychopaths that may be of interest to superhipster Noise readers is that occasionally they sound like Waltham, but you tell me, ladies—would you still like Waltham if they looked like your hippie uncles? (Sleazegrinder)
MALVERN
Death Benefits Records
The Grand Bender
12 songs
It may be unfair to hold Malvern’s newest full-length next to REM’s early IRS recordings, but that’s the first comparison that came to mind when this indie quartet first played through the speakers on my stereo. The Grand Bender may not be Fables of the Reconstruction, but I’ve experienced very few other bands that have been able to stay so seamlessly true their own unique sound throughout a sixty-five minute recording while moving easily back and forth from swoon to rock ‘n’ roll. Malvern juxtaposes dreamy ballads like “Winston” and the dynamic “Vaguest of Pleas” with hard rocking pop anthems like “The Sound of Halifax” and “Thingnaes.” While no one will argue that front-man Allan Lewis is the next Michael Stipe (or that drummer/ backup singer Dan Ricci sounds anything like Mike Mills) Malvern, like REM, uses backup vocals effectively to create a melodic atmosphere for the music to exist in. Most of all, the independent spirit of Malvern’s music is what sets them apart from the majority of what is out there today. Malvern takes a lot of chances with this album, but those chances were worth the risk. This is one of the best local albums I’ve heard this year. (Jeff May)
A WILHEM SCREAM
Nitro
Mute Print
11 songs
The problem with life in the Zeroes is that everyone just falls into line ALL THE TIME. I mean, dig this: A Wilhem Scream (formerly the equally atrocious sounding Smackin’ Isiah) are a buncha go-getter young dudes from New Bedford. They play scream-o, and they have “Scream” in their name. They sound just like AFI, and they’re on Nitro, AFI’s old label. Bill Stevenson, “legendary” drummer in The Descendants and All, produced this, and his bands were pretty much the ones that started this whole non-offensive college-boy sugar-punk thing in the first place. They cite “ironic” ’80s metal influences, just like those clowns in Sum 41, and sure enough, they don’t sound anything like Iron Maiden, either. Basically, everything that this band does has already been done, like, 12 minutes ago, and none of it was all that interesting, or clever, the first time. Still, in the clinical sense, Mute Print is a good record. Certainly, these cats are accomplished musicians, and all the songs sound like mock-affected commercials, which probably isn’t all that easy to do. It’s just insufferably corporate and no fun whatsoever to listen to. Maybe I missed a memo or two along the way, but didn’t kids used to LIKE fun? (Sleazegrinder)
DANNY CARNEY
Cattle Tragedies
10 songs
It’s good to see punk crossing over more and more with country. Country is as a whole is like where metal was in the late ’80s and early ’90s, all too watered down and more about image than heart. With the loss of Johnny Cash, its good to see a new generation of rockers waiting in line to fill the ranks and tell the whole music industry, if not the rest of the world to back the fuck off. Danny Carney takes some of these roots influences and packs ’em into a shotgun and he’s not just ready to fire, he’s pointing the barrel right at your face. The edginess of punk rock is prominent throughout the whole album, even in the softer acoustic numbers. During the harder, heavier numbers like “Pete Rose,” I was left scratching my head wondering if I was actually listening to some Fugazi B-sides. Whoever recorded this album did a good job at capturing the energy of the whole thing. My only suggestion I’d propose is to sharpen the songwriting a bit; a few more hooks like the one in the chorus of “Lady Grey” and “Crying Shame” would be nice. (Kier Byrnes)
MAGICK
Senses Productions
All is Fair in Love & War
7 songs
Magick a sometimes augmented duo, bar no holds nor pull no punches in their release All is Fair in Love & War. This seven cut release opens with the techno-laced “Politics of Love,” meanders to clipped rap contrasted with epic guitar work in “Pyrosis,” and winds up with a ballad in “Forgive.”
Although sometimes a bit too epic and grandiose to get inside of, this record, despite the shudder-inducing over-use of the Cher-bot (think: “do you believe in life after love”) vocal sound has some nice moments. The guitar playing is very good throughout with tasty hooks and thoughtfully played. Some of the grooves feel just right, too. This reviewer found “Dormancy” to have that summer-pop-tune-foot-tapping something that a lot of bands wish they could get.
I would like to see this band live as I am personally not a fan of the drum machine beats on the record but can easily imagine the tunes rocking a little more with a heavy hitting drummer and, according to their website, they have just that.
These guys present some very good ideas that hopefully will get distilled and exploited more on future efforts. (J Russell)
NECRONOMITRON
Load Records
Necronomitron
12 songs
It’s only fitting that a band with a name that directly references the title of H.P. Lovecraft’s mythical tome, the sinister Necronomicon, should release an album on a label out of Providence. Unfortunately, the only thing “evil” about this album is the lack of production values. The press sheet accompanying the CD states: “Two guitars and drums.” Um, okay… and no bass? So it would seem, and with a drum mix so lifeless that the kick is reduced to a dull fwap-ing sound, there’s nothing to anchor any sort of groove. Perhaps the band realizes the futility of such a thing however, as the guitar parts seemingly consist of hundreds of short riffs and solos haphazardly assembled with little concern for the tempo variation from one to the next. Ritalin be damned! With vocals that reach neither the upper-octave wails nor the guttural rumblings typical of the genre, this release goes a long way in proving that there’s more to making a good death metal album than just playing fast. These criticisms aside, something tells me Necro-nomicon is probably a great live band, which may be what drew Load to them in the first place. (Josh Witkowski)
ELENA
Waiting On You
12 songs
Sifting through the box of CDs that seems to often consist of bands poised in a Creed ambush, I flipped to one that immediately caught my attention. A cover consisting simply of her face with brown eyes gazing contentedly, my curiosity struck and drove me to write up a few words for her.
Elena lends her vocals to a diverse musical direction, from somber ballads to aggressive rock. For a solo vocalist to not simply stick with love songs and cheesy R&B; tracks is a change, and I think it works here. The song “Electric” especially stands out with Elena being the lyrical aggressor while the backup band propels her along. “Perfect,” on the other hand, has her choosing the quietly confessional route. As well as with the rest of the songs on the disc, Elena shows her varied genre tastes through her voice.
Like any artist, it’s up to the listener to decide whether or not they enjoy the voice coming out of the speakers, but I think Elena’s musical range make this album worth listening to. (Evan Mauser)
DOMINGO
The Sunday Sessions
13 songs
Domingo is a band that likes to keep you guessing as to where they’re going in each song: quick at first, then a slow interlude, then a medium overture and then suddenly back up to speed. Because songs in general usually are predictable in their path, it’s refreshing to hear their changes of pace.
The first song on the album, “Piper’s Song,” sets a fine table. I really like the musicianship with its stuttering guitar riffs and tense keyboard background. The variance in tempo in “Silver” also keeps things interesting, as well does the very comfortable sound of “Papercut.” The piano in “Pebbles” also makes for a nice touch, though combined with the pleading vocals it seemed like they were trying to catch a John Mayer wave. Regardless, the instruments throughout the disc are what make it successful.
I even liked the joke tracks at the end, (“Do you believe in DEEAATH?”) which, after all that pleading stuff, makes for a humorous sendout for the album. Indeed, I look forward to what they put out next. (Evan Mauser)
IIJ
Metalstar Garocktica
12 songs
IIJ is short for “Is It Jazz,” and if I am correct in my assumption that this is a question for me, my answer is roundly no. This is more like occasionally acoustic, quasi-pop space rock. This is one of those bands that value their “image” as much as their music, which is not necessarily a bad thing. Think Queen’s over the top delivery minus glam and the great songwriting, with a dash of Tenacious D’s vocal stylings and pseudo-arrogance. The have cute little names for each member of the band, and descriptions of each player’s duties like “Chief Architect, Guitar-a-Tron© Division.” That’s not to say these guys aren’t talented; they are all very good at their respective instruments. Most of the songs start out with a lot of promise, but they spiral out of control when the band forgets that most audiences don’t care if they’re using every single knob on that classic synth; they just want to hear a good song. While the orchestration and arrangement is quite interesting overall, especially on tracks like “Planet M” which is a creepy gothic organ composition over a plodding industrial drumbeat, the tracks lack the accessibility necessary to make a commercially successful album. If you’re down for something different and are able to sift through the filler, this could be a pretty good album for you. Otherwise, try to catch them live and show up before they get all “experimental.” (Erich Hagan)
KTD
Hydrant Records
Territory
8 songs
Okay, so I totally grabbed this for the throwback appeal. Visions of headbands and mirrored shades everywhere, bony asses atop spindly legs, vacuum-sealed in painted-on jeans and stuffed into soft, shiny cowboy boots, supple torsos dripping jewelry from every appendage. Not to mention the girls. Halter-topped, Farrah Fawcett-maned floozies on rollerskates outside The Tank in Revere, begging to climb in back o’ my gold-flake Camaro, with the unicorn painted on the hood, for a hit off the ol’ Gasmask Skull Bong. Shit, the press sheet alone sounds like Mickey Spillane in eyeliner and a spandex corset. “A six-string shotgun affair of moxie and melody. This is a band you can kick your feet up and have a beer to.” Hey, I kick my feet up and have beers to infomercials for exercise machines. You wanna sell me drinking music? Play me some country. Don’t get me wrong, I DO still like this kinda stuff and think they’re sincere. And they can dress like Motorhead and sound like Warrant all they want, but the songs lack that certain true-badboy something that propels a band to the hockey rinks. (And hey, any acronym-named act worth their studded belts TELLS you what the initials stand for. Not these guys. What’s up with that?) Like the press sheet says, “We marked our spot.” There ya go. (Joe Coughlin)
STU WALKER
Odd Halo Recordings
Stu Walker
12 songs
I hate to agree with that fat old baldhead Billy Joel but sometimes the angry young man really IS boring as hell. But not this time. Ethyl Bourbon’s multi-tracked voice on “Theft Arson Vice Murder and Death” sounds like the Andrews Sisters backed by the superstitious natives who worshipped King Kong (1933 version). On “Always Draw Your Own Last Breath,” Stu Walker’s voice crackles over the telegraphic mutant delta blues boogie like smoke over dry ice. This is the most brilliant local debut since I dunno—Veronica Black Morpheus Nipple? Okay, so the first two tracks are the best, and the rest of it is mostly experimentation of varying degrees of ingenuity and interest. But you could say the same thing about certain Prince or P-Funk albums. (Francis DiMenno)
LOCK AND KEY
Irresponsible Records
No Fate
7 songs
Well, popular radio has done it again. Another music group, (“rooted in punk and hardcore” as the promo sheet says) has gone the typical way of rock bands trying to make it big using brutal force. Unfortunately, they just end up falling into the muddy pool of other punk-metal bands featuring adrenalized guitars and drawn out yelling.
It’s not that Lock and Key don’t have a pulse, for that’s not it at all. Hey, if they were breaking new ground with this stuff it would cause quite a stir. The youth would attempt to imitate the lead singer’s hollow voice by blowing out their vocal chords at their parents and then recording the result to a tape deck. They’d also start playing their guitars and drums as loud and fast as they could without regard for pause and reflection. It’d be a blitzing massacre across the nation, and yet it’s just not. As much as Lock and Key try to separate themselves with a drummer named Trash, it’s the same old schtick that countless other hard rock bands have trudged through these recent years. Hohum. (Evan Mauser)
FLASHCUBES
Air Mail Recordings
Live in Japan
15 songs
On the surface, this album looks like it was an idea created by four dads wanting to get out of the house. In May of 2002 these guys probably told their wives they were off to the grocery store and, instead, boarded the first flight to Tokyo. There they blasted off fifteen upbeat power pop songs that strongly appealed to our Japanese friends.
I admit, at first listen I wasn’t all that enthused with the songs. It sounded much like the Fountains of Wayne style I’ve heard a lot on the radio recently. Then after a few more spins I remembered that hey, these Flashcubes guys have been around since the 70s and they’re still having a great time rocking. Along with their singles “Christi Girl” and “Wait Til Next Week,” the Flashcubes muster up some armchair quarterback energy for the rollicking “She’s Leaving” and the pounding “Got No Mind.” Even the ending medley combining the Ramones with Nick Lowe shows that these guys aren’t slowing down anytime soon.
This is a fun disc to listen to if you need your mood picked up. Just don’t ask any of these guys to pick something up from the corner store. (Evan Mauser)
CHEECH
Dank Records
A Day Late & A Dollar Short
19 songs
Take this how you will, but it seems to me that some of the songs on Cheech’s A Day Late & A Dollar Short , namely “Billion Dollar War” and “Quest for Herb,” could easily be retooled to fit on the seminal GWAR album, Scumdogs of the Universe. And I love GWAR!
Of course Cheech are nothing like GWAR, at least in that they don’t dress up in giant latex costumes, play satirical heavy metal, and spew fake blood on the audience. They do however, play balls-out hardcore, drawing heavily on their forbearers for inspiration, with an inclination for themes both anti-establishment and pro-party in nature. There’s no shortage of humor here, fortunately, which helps negate some of the harder-than-yo’-momma attitude they (and too many other hardcore bands) rely a bit too heavily on. Songs like “Intro (Beer Prayer),” with its West coast hip-hop backing, and the acid-casualty freak-out skit following “Those We’ve Loved and Lost” help remind us that it’s not all about fronting your image for the scene and debating the ills of society. (Josh Witkowski)
NAMED BY STRANGERS
Gone
13 songs
File this under “Reasons Not to Move To Canada.” The vocalist of this Burlington, Vermont combo sounds like an icky hybrid of Bob Seger and Harry Chapin, and overall, repetitive song structures and man-o’-constant-sorrow lyrics make for pretty dreary soundscapes which occasionally burble into Garcia-tinged jam band mode. Even when this combo sounds sweet and lively, as on “Feelin’ Fine,” the tune is dragged down by the vocalist, who sings in his finest Voice of the Ancient Mariner. They ought to print a picture of an albatross on the cover. Okay, on the one hand, I went to see the Clash at the Orpheum in 1980, was once maced by the police, and I still think there’s something fishy about Jethro Tull. On the other hand, I’ve seen the Grateful Dead over 20 times, most recently in 1988, and I also own a juicer, a tea press and a breadmaker; plus, I voted Nader in 1996 and 2000 and will likely do so again. But as a listening experience, Gone is just too much of nothing. Named by Strangers? I almost wish they would be abducted by strangers. Then I would, at long last, no longer be Annoyed By Hippies. (Francis DiMenno)
THE MERCURY SEED
TMS Records
Dust
10 songs
Dust is the second independent release from The Mercury Seed, and it will fit nicely into the indie / alt-rock section of any record store. It’s not a bad album. It actually has a little bit of a classic rock lean to it, like the Rolling Stones or Tom Petty, which is nice. But overall it’s just so standard, so mundane. I just can’t understand how people can start a band with no aspiration further than sounding like all the bands that have done this same sound before. It’s the same chord progressions, the same lock-jaw, Scott Stapp-esque voice, the same everything; band after band, album after album, and song after song. What ever happened to taking a band that you like and being inspired by that, but still doing something different and new? It’s like the only reason they wrote these songs was so that they would have something other than the usual covers to play; there is no heart or feeling behind the songwriting itself. And when there is no love for the songs for their own sake, that really comes through, especially on an album, because you can’t see how the band performs live. So I wouldn’t pick up this album, unless you’re at one of their shows and just feel like supporting them a little bit because they’re such nice guys. (Erich Hagan)
COLDREAD
Coldread
7 songs
Coldread are of the portentous shit ‘n’ death school of microphone-membrane-shredding shouters and ranters. I can feel this gloomfest sucking the serotonin right out of my brain with every nearly interminable passing nanosecond. So the question here is, “Why record this type of music in 2004?” Assuming Coldread come from small-town America, here are some possible answers: (1) You just can’t get good animal tranquilizers anymore. (2) The law is cracking down on people who throw stuff from interstate overpasses onto passing cars. (3) Setting fire to Winos has lost its novelty value. (4) Can’t visit Dad at Walpole; he blinded a Trusty and has been moved to a supermax in Colorado. (5) Jacklighting rats down by the town dump is no fun because ever since animal control set out the baited traps they’ve all moved into Home Depot, the deserted train station and the abandoned Catholic church. Overall, these marathon, synthesizer-driven, percussion-rife psychotic reactions make OMD’s “Stanislow” sound like a Mike Myers laughathon and “Violence” makes Dark Side of the Moon come off like a cheery vaudeville turn between a slyly insouciant tramp, a stuffy society matron, and a harrumphing, morbidly obese, stogie-chuffing plutocrat. (Francis DiMenno)
ENEMIES OF ENORMITY
Apply Within EP
8 songs
Imagine what it might sound like if you placed the pop-accessible percussion sounds of NIN, Boards of Canada’s “Aquarius,” the demo song from a Roland synthesizer, and a 55-gallon drum of water in a blender, mixed it on “bastardize” until smooth, and strained out any lumps of originality. Bake it on 450° until “the time of the enemies is finally here” and distribute in a fancy Digipak wrapper. The results? Enemies of Enormity’s Apply Within EP.
Now, I live for electronic music; be it Japanese noise, old-school industrial, or current IDM and click-hop musicians; but as a rabid consumer of these styles I have repeatedly come across the likes of this duo. Sure, the propagation of computer technology has lead to the emergence of several noteworthy musicians, but it has also dramatically increased the signal-to-noise ratio for consumers. Apply Within EP falls on the latter side of the equation, as the combination of a tragic vocal mix, preset synth sounds, and generic electronica compositions belie the notion that Enemies of Enormity were once under-appreciated because they were ahead of their time. Sorry gents, but the time of the enemies may never arrive. (Josh Witkowski)
STEVE MAYONE
Umver Records
Bedroom Rockstar
12 songs
At first listen, this was one of those “great for what it is, but not my thing” jobs. Exceedingly tasteful/ sensitive, low-key, acoustic-based, cliché-friendly, sunny, breezy, sometimes bittersweet, guilty-pleasure fluffernutters, without a hostile note or discouragin’ word to be found. It should be noted, though (maybe), that my frequent dismissal of such product comes from (a) the sheer glut of it out there, and (b) my intense denial of the aging process itself and the maturity expected along with it. I too often rebel against anything which doesn’t somehow refer to my whole “gloriously misspent youth” thing, and basically resent anyone my actual age who seems the least bit comfortable or sane. But I’m learning. The truth is, this thing sounds great from tip to tail. This guy writes real songs, and employs real musicians and production values (imagine that?), and it’s PLEASANT, for Christ’s sake, and it feels GOOD not writhing around on the floor pretending to relate to some tortured, drug-dizzy Ar-Teest or puke-encrusted punk for a change. This only helps re-beef the notion that I wouldn’t, in fact, be twenty-something again for all the rim-jobs in Thailand. So as a way to hang onto the attitude, I simply enjoy the challenge of dishin’ up rave reviews that no sensible musician would ever brag about. Try it, it’s fun! (Joe Coughlin)
ASECT
Asect
11 songs
Okay, after listening to this disc a few times I finally figured out who these guys really are. Boston band my butt, they’re just a relocated Warrant! They’ve cut their hair, applied pore-crippling ageless cream, and directed their music away from the sex-laden arena rock to a more downtown dive bar groove.
But seriously, I wouldn’t doubt it. The first track, “Little Didja Know,” starts the album very well with a catchy chorus and exchanges between soft and loud guitars. But after that positive note they hit you with an emotional a cappella track. You think, “What the HECK was that?! Uh oh ” Although “Left of Alright” caught my attention for its vocal work, most of the rest of the disc fades into the background like a bar band on a weekday. All in all, Asect provides solid rock, but it’s nothing to lift your shirt to. (Evan Mauser)
LYN PAUL JUNCTION
Bullzeye
Evil Eye Music
11 songs
Oh my. Oh, fucking my. Imagine the worst of crappy eighties metal bands redefining the word cliché in the vein of the whole roots rock thing. My initial reaction is that I hope that this band is sort of like a bad joke. I can sort of picture Spinal Tap’s David St. Hubbins closing his eyes in some sort of cheesy flashback video montage. However, after checking out their website, lpjrocks.com, I discover they are quite serious. It turns out that they were actually once a finalist in the WBCN Rumble. Man, I can’t imagine what they were like in their heyday but the stuff on here is pretty tacky, like really bad lawn furniture or neon green fanny packs. Maybe it was a really thin year on talent? The lyrics this sings make Cinderella, Quiet Riot, and The Scorpions look like Bob Dylan. I have been able to stomach most of the Adam Sandler romantic comedies, but many a song on this album, such as the hard rock/swing combo “Gotta Be the One,” and the power ballad “Daydreaming” for instance, made me gag up my lunch. Even worse that is the skin crawling cover of Johnny Cash’s “Boy Named Sue” renamed “Boy Named Lyn.” This CD is coming out of my player and never, never, never going back in. (Kier Byrnes)
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