DISGUSTER THE CANDY SNATCHERS IDOL LIPS HOOKED ON SOUTHERN SPEED
THE HITCHHIKERS THE DWARVES SONIC NEGROES THE TORPEDO MONKEYS ROYCE CRACKER ELECTRIC FRANKENSTEIN BRAINERD WEREVILSDARE THE BIBLE BEATERS SKINTIGHT JAGUARS
29TH ST. DISCIPLES THE LASH OUTS TRUCKSTOP LOVECHILD BILLY JOE WINGHEAD FUCKLAND
THE NICOTINE FITS DRINK.FIGHT.FUCK. SERIES THE BUGS LUXURY PUSHERS SILVER COCKS
THE SPECIMENS THE URGENCIES THE HIP PRIESTS POLECAT BOOGIE REVIVAL THE LIVING WRECKS BEFORE I HANG THE STEAKNIVES THE PNEUMONIAS PUNK AS A DORRNAIL THE MARX
THE INSOMNIAXE THE ANTARES STILETTO BOYS BUZZCRUSHER KILEGO VERT WORLD WAR IX
FAST BOYS MAD BROTHER WARD G.G. ALLIN THE RETICENTS HOLLEY 750 SUPERSUCKERS
THE ADJUSTERS THE KILL COMPANY COPSTABBER THE FLAT TIRES LOS GATOS LOCOS DISGUSTER
SPEEDOZER PUNKS, SKINS, AND PSYCHOS


PUNKS, SKINS, & PSYCHOS COMP

One of my fondest memories of first getting into punk music was buying lots of compilations. There was something especially cool, back in the day, about getting to hear a whole lot of great bands on one release for a highly affordable price. I could, in fact, name a number of bands that I went on to love after first discovering them on comps. Punks, Skins & Psychos, out on Zodiac Killer/Skinhead Retirement Plan Records, is a new comp in that old school spirit. It's got 29 tracks, clocks in at nearly 70s minutes, and comes specially priced at $8. Talk about a sweet deal! How often do you hear a 29-track comp where literally every band is good? This is one of those cases! Musically, this comp delivers a great mix of punk, Oi!, hardcore, pyschobilly, rockabilly, and good, old filthy rock n' roll. And I love the way all these songs flow together - proving that loud, aggressive music is fucking awesome regardless of how people choose to categorize it. Punks, Skins & Psychos starts off with the Stiletto Boys' instant powerpop classic "Cannon Fodder", and goes right into a street punk kick in the teeth from the Iron City Hooligans followed by some raging psychobilly from Los Gatos Locos. That totally sets the tone for the rest of the comp. There's plenty of variety - but somehow everything fits together perfectly. Favorite tracks of mine run quite the gamut from the thundering sing-along Oi! of The Shame to the urgent hardcore punk of Hated Noise to the glam/trash greatness of Fishnet Stalkers to the punishing velocity of Speedozer to the anthemic hardcore of local legends Rightstart. F & L favorites such as The Pegs and Hitchhikers contribute ably to this monster collection, as do the almighty Dwarves. And like any good comp, Punks, Skins & Psychos has turned me on to some really good bands that I wasn't previously aware of. I will definitely be looking to hear more from Al and the Black Cats and The Hillbilly Huxters! Ron spent four years looking for the right bands to contribute to Punks, Skins & Psychos, and he really chose wisely. This lineup is stacked! There are bands here not just from all over the country, but from all over the world as well. And I like that a lot of these tracks were culled from bands' demos and LPs. Sometimes where comps go wrong is in insisting on previously unreleased material. That's when you often wind up with lesser tracks. Well, there's nothing lesser about these tracks! This is nothing but the good shit from a ton of great bands. If hearing this collection doesn't get you fired up about the current state of punk music, you may be beyond saving. Did I mention it's only $8? Get it from Zodiac Killer Records! - LORD RUTLEDGE - FASTER AND LOUD


SPEEDOZER S/T

Belgium's Speedozer totally live up to their name on their scorching debut album. You see that name, and you imagine a machine of sonic destruction wreaking havoc at breakneck speed. And that's exactly what you'll hear! Out on the always dependable Zodiac Killer Records, this self-titled long player will indeed destroy anything in its path. Speedozer play loud, high octane rock n' roll - and they do it with power, speed, and a ferocity that never lets up even for an instant. These dudes are pissed-off and primed to kill - and their weapons are pummeling riffs, red-hot guitar leads, bonecrushing bass lines, and relentlessly thumping drums. "Supercharged" tears out of the gates with pure speed and aggression - and at the point Speedozer is just getting started! Like a punk rock Motorhead, these guys stay on the attack from wire to wire. They play every note of every song as if they're trying to obliterate everything and everyone they despise. How can they possibly play this fast and this tight? Are they even human? As advertised, they are a veritable rock n' roll war machine. And while a recording can never fully duplicate the experience of seeing a band tear it up live, this album is the next best thing. It's very true to the band's mission to keep rock n' roll where it belongs: in the underground clubs and dive bars where cheap beer flows and the women are as fast as the music. There's nothing better after a frustrating day of dealing with the shitty human race than blasting "Fuck Off n Die" at the highest possible volume. It's truly an instant classic - and proof that Speedozer have the songwriting chops to match their insatiable sonic fury. Mixing light speed thrillers such as "Don't Cheat On Me" and "Drugtrain" in with high voltage rock n' roll smokers like "Go Loose" and "Gonna Fuck Tonight", this album keeps the pedal to the metal but never grows repetitive. If you looked at the cover art and surmised that this band has to be fucking great, then you are 100 percent correct! You can buy the album on Amazon and iTunes under the title Supercharger, or order it on CD from Zodiac Killer. If you don't love it, you are not to be trusted! - LORD RUTLEDGE - FASTER AND LOUD


DISGUSTER "NOT SO SWEET"

Given that I attempted a retirement from writing between late 2007 and mid 2011, I missed a lot of great music while I was out of the game. So one of the things I'd like to do with this blog from time to time is to get caught up on some of the essential stuff I missed. Over the next couple of months, I'll be writing quite a bit about Zodiac Killer Records. Looking at the list of releases that have come out on ZKR in recent years, I definitely put this label among the very best in the punk world. ZKR has worked with everyone from legends like Electric Frankenstein and The Supersuckers to international sensations like Dead Vikings and Sonic Negroes to modern-day greats like The Hitchhikers and Stiletto Boys. I fully support Ron's mission to keep punk music dirty and dangerous. And one of the most representative releases of what his label is all about has to be Disguster's superb 2009 album Not So Sweet. Disguster is notoriously one of the most acclaimed live bands in southern California. If you enjoy the gloriously unwholesome stylings of the Dead Boys and Dwarves or the classic SoCal sounds of The Humpers and Black Flag, this is definitely a band for you. I also hear strong hints of Bon Scott era AC/DC, which can never be a bad thing. Factor in two killer guitarists, a couple of Hitchhikers, and a creepy degenerate peeping Tom front man named KC, and you've got yourself some first rate sleazy punk rock n' roll! What I like about Not So Sweet is that it takes the wildfire energy the band is known for on stage and finds a way to capture it in the studio. Close your eyes while you're listening to "End of the End", and you're immediately transported to some club or dive bar that's about to have its roof blown off. And while I love the full-on ferocity of this track and the face-smashing cover of Led Zeppelin's "Communication Breakdown", this is far from a one-dimensional record. Not So Sweet finds Disguster working with a number of different tempos and really showing off their songwriting chops. "Feelin With A Dealin" is up there with the best of The Humpers' stuff, while "Secret Shame" is truly a punk classic of its time. And even if you've never ingested an illicit chemical in your life, you'll be hard pressed not to jump out of your seat and shout along loudly to the chorus of "Drugs". It's that catchy. As the name suggests, Disguster is not a band for the easily offended. If you're ultra-PC or prefer your punk rock to be "nice", you might wanna steer clear. Not So Sweet is appropriately named, and it's darn near a masterpiece of its genre. This is punk music the way it was meant to sound - raw and nasty, with real guts and a sick sense of humor. I'm embarrassed to have been unaware of this great album for so long, but I've been making up for lost time in recent days...with the volume cranked way up! Check out http://www.zodiackillerrecords.com/ for ordering information! - LORD RUTLEDGE - FASTER AND LOUDER


LOS GATOS LOCOS "EVEN SOCIOPATHS GET THE BLUES"

The much-anticipated new studio album from Seattle ne'er-do-wells Los Gatos Locos has finally seen the light of day. Encased in what can only be described as thee best album artwork ever to be seen in the psychobilly realm (because I did it) is the hate filled Even Sociopaths Gets The Blues. Charlie Splatterhead's streptococcal pharyngitis-infused vocals are charged with aggression as he seethes his way through 11 audio-nasties. These guys have always had an air of menace about them and that perception is well and truly evident here. They sound credibly evil. Not just shlockabilly evil for the sake of gaining psychobilly brownie points. There's a lot of sociopolitical commentary disguised as horror-laden slap bass-driven psychobilly here. But there's plenty of straight ahead blood and guts related canticles to keep the usual suspects happy too. Los Gatos Locos have returned with an album that is a no nonsense psychobilly pastiche of violence and indignation. - O'PRES - PSYCHOBILLYONLINE.COM


THE FLAT TIRES "ALL THE RIGHT ENEMIES"

Flat Tires proudly hail from some bumfuck town in North Carolina. These dudes have released a splits with Joe Buck and Asound as well as the full length "All The Right Enemies". Recently they hit the bottle and the studio to record their eight song album "Payin Dues...Again" for the infamous Zodiac Killer Records. Initially I was very underwhelmed by these tracks. I listened to this once and threw it aside and wrote it off as shitty redneck punk n roll. It was only recently after giving this disc a second chance that I realized this is awesome redneck punk n roll. Some may call it honky tonk or rockabilly or southern punk, whatever it is it rules. The first comparison that came to mind was Hank Williams III playing a dirtier version of some of his faster rock oriented songs. Clint Harrison unintentionally mocks Hanks voice on a couple of tracks and on others manages to sound like the dude from Clutch for brief moments. The music is full of simple toe tappin, head bobbin, beer drinkin rhythms. There aren't any overly impressive tricks and the tracks have a pretty straight forward flow. The rhythm section flows along the path plowed by the guitar work and the vocals layer over top impressively. Lyrically you get what you might expect; songs about getting drunk and being a reckless scumbag. It took me almost a month, but Flat Tires have grown on me. Aside from the last track "Shake It", I'm pretty impressed by this release. Zodiac Killer seems to be doing something right with their roster of bands. Classify Flat Tires into whatever fucking sub-genre you want, this is good shit. - CRALEY - STEREOKILLER.COM


COPSTABBER "OFFICER DOWN"

Do you think punk rock isn't what it used to be? Have you been watching your hair line fade into oblivion? Is your waist line expanding at rapid speed? Do you find yourself drinking mass quantities of cheap booze on a Tuesday night out of boredom and depression? Well so did Washington DC's Copstabber. However, this foul smelling four piece came together to record a not-so-subliminal fuck you to anything and everything. This band has ex-members from other bands, but you probably never heard of them and who cares anyway. This is a joke band done right. I can assure you Copstabber have no intentions of assaulting law enforcement. I don't think they are even capable of it. What the band is capable of is consuming copious amounts of drugs and playing above average punk rock. I had never imagined I would one day find myself singing along to lines like "I wanna shove pills up my butt and squeeze real tight so it won't drop" like I do in the opening track "Butt Drugs". Copstabber's music and vocals sound very similar to Slapshot, but the lyrics have nothing in common. There is no re-inventing the wheel here other than a joke band actually being funny for once. If you can put aside personal beliefs and politics and let lyrics just be lyrics than you'll enjoy this record. Can you imagine a catchy song about abortions? Well, Copstabber made it a reality. "More Abortions" will be hard to not sing along with even if you have coat hanger scars on your forehead. The album closer "Like Whoa" isn't a Black Rob tribute, but aside from lacking a solid dance move it is just as good of a song. "I Like Cocaine" is another sure sing a long song for in a live setting. It's actually kind of nice to hear a punk band not covering the same tired topics no matter how ridiculous the new subject matter is. I was legitimately surprised when I first listened to this CD. I knew I would be mildly entertained, but I didn't have a clue that I would thoroughly enjoy this album. Fortunately these guys play the Baltimore area quite a bit. I'm looking forward to being piss drunk and singing along at their next show. CRALEY - STEREOKILLER.COM


THE KILL COMPANY "MATCHBOX FEVER"

There?s something about a band that list their influences as "All the good stuff" on their MySpace page. Sweden's The Kill Company have found their nitche playing high-octane rock 'n' roll using The Rolling Stones, Lynyrd Skynryd and The Hellacopters as their road map. Hailing from the small coastal town of Falkenberg the four-piece kept bumping into each other until they eventually decided to start a band. Within months they'd written a half dozen originals and after posting on MySpace started to get label bites. Zodiac Killer Record ended up locking them under contract and after two years of pre-time are now releasing the their debut Matchbox Fever. Record opener "Rock 'n' Roll Highway" wastes no time as a snake-winding riff is given chase by a barrage of drums, bass and rhythm guitar. The gritty production adds to the record's charm especially in the southern twang of "Play Rock 'n' Roll" and the pornographic "Steal Your Woman." Singer/guitarist Jonte "Tassen" Westman, leads this wild bunch with guitarist Bj�rn "B�nja" Karlsson, bassist Nicke T and drummer Micke joining the ranks of Detroit rock soldiers determined to keep the sprit of The Stooges and MC5 alive and kickin'. Big riff numbers like "Stitch Up," the bass-driven "Get Fooled" and ripping "War" feed the band's punk edge while still injecting just enough guitar finesse to make the tracks classics. Hellacopter's Robert Dahlquist lends a hand on the guitar solo in "Go Bad" not only giving the band his seal-of-approval but reminding the rest of us what a great guitarist he is. Amidst all the ruckus comes the drunken southern blues ballad "Waiste" that could easily have slipped off The Black Crowes Southern Harmony sessions. Closing the album is "Fight That Man" the highest ranked song from the band's webpage and teaser sampler on the Zodiac Killers compilation Drink, Fight, F*ck Volume III. For new comers, these guys waste no time digging in with both heels and letting the lead fly. - THE CUTTING EDGE


THE ADJUSTERS "RECKLESS RELATIONS"

Released only a short time after the release of their debut EP "Can't See", The ADJUSTERS have decided to put the final nail in the coffin and strike while the iron is still hot with this first flashing album. And since they don't want to wear masks but rather chose to put their cards on the table, our young firework manufacturers start on setting a fire with the exciting "Drinkin' Red Wine", a mind-blowing anthem with piano and hand claps that make the song even more stirring.
There's no drop in voltage on here, the rest of the album is tarred with the same brush. The ADJUSTERS thrown a good street punk dose into their rock'n'roll and carry on with nine abrasive songs with a quite miraculous mastering and savoir-faire for such young guys. It is obvious that Ash and his Wigan boys didn't want to leave things half-finished and decided to mark their territory from the start with "Reckless Relations" (superbly produced) and its highly enjoyable old school punk rock'n'roll. Actually, my only little regret about this album is the fact that the band didn't include"Do Anything You Wanna Do", their EPO injected cover of EDDIE & THE HOT RODS' hit... Let yourself carry by the breaker, but beware you may end up like me and feel as if you'd been thrown into a washing machine, that is to say completely washed out. Washed out but happy. - FRANCKIE - VEGLAM WEBZINE

 

THE ADJUSTERS "RECKLESS RELATIONS"

There�s a lot of sheep dressing up in wolfs� drags these days. You get it all the time � some bunch of suburban dilettantes cite the Stooges, MC5, or the Dolls as influences and promptly set about shitting out some insipid discharge that bears about as much relation to rock�n�roll as the brown fucking beaver does. So here�s the Adjusters, citing both the Heartbreakers and Guns N� Roses. The former, I�ll get to � but unlike Axl and his sidemen, this bunch demonstrate a clear understanding of what constitutes honest, balls-out rock�n�roll. Those of you who haven�t formed your understanding of the genre via MTV will be relieved to know that this quintet (currently down to a foursome having shed a guitarist) bear no resemblance to Hollywood�s idea of ersatz rebellion. Reckless Relations ploughs a relentless furrow across the same landscape previously tilled by the likes of the Dead Boys, the Damned (Brian James version), the Hollywood Brats, and � fair enough, guv � the Heartbreakers. Somehow, the spirit of the Lower East Side has found its way to Wigan. This may sound implausible � it looks that way, having written it � but that�s the way it is. There is a confidence and swagger here that enables the Adjusters to carry off this unlikely cultural shift. This confidence is demonstrated right from Reckless Relations� opening track, �Drinkin� Red Wine� � a hotpot of Thunders� licks, Stooges� joanna and the kind of snotty vocal delivery associated with Stiv Bators. This is �77 vintage Thunderbird legless, punk rock. Lyrically, like much of the album, it deals with the travails of doomed love (that�s l-u-v, sugah) amid the mythic semen-encrusted glory of skid row rock�n�roll destitution. It�s also the strongest track on the disc, and it takes balls to come in like that. Happily, the band doesn�t shoot their bolt on the first number. �Too Bad� is a grimy, fuzzed up 12-bar that traces the lineage through Johhny T, all the way back to Chuck Berry. Any song that features the lyric �That�s a pretty big scar� is alright by me. �Start Me Up� (not as I�d imagined a cover of the Stones� 1981 cut � though that�d have been interesting) could have come straight off Damned Damned Damned � three chords, all vying to arrive at the same moment, chopped and hacked into pleasant, jagged shards to underscore a tale of heartbreak and desire. The Adjusters apply their influences with vigour � �Can�t See� is an urgent wad of angst and fuzz that storms in with a �Johnny B Goode� intro, while �Itch I Can�t Scratch�, sees the tempo dropping just slightly for a bigger, hairier stab at the kind of punk�n�roll that Honest John Plain used to do. For �Blackout�, the band momentarily break off from the high-velocity stomping, to pare things down to a bear drumbeat, before taking off for another pass with afterburners firing. The ivories are thrashed rather than tinkled for the breakneck boogie of �Kickin� Down The Doors�, as �I Get Paranoid� mines the rich seam of lyrical angst first opened up on �Chatterbox�. Penultimate track, �Misery Addict� comes in like the Faces on crystal meth, the lyrics inhabiting the same peripatetic �Got no car/Got no phone� that Charlie Harper memorably delineated in �I Live In A Car�. The number ends with a gloriously unreconstructed �Bitch!� before a sample from Jailhouse Rock ushers in �Let�s Dance� � a �We Are The Road Crew� for the terminally wasted. This is a lean album � there�s no acoustic waffle or masturbatory filler. Ten tracks that deliver nothing more than the same spirit that made your forbears want to slash seats. What could be improved? The drums are a little low in the mix (but then, the guitars are cranked up to 11), and if someone could develop a habit, then perhaps we�d get some songs about scoring, too. But these are petty gripes. For once we have been presented with the real thing. Sirrah. - DICK PORTER


SUPERSUCKERS / HOOKED ON SOUTHERN SPEED SPLIT 10"

Supersuckers and HOSS sing mostly Christmas songs on this split 10" with a highly detailed, Christmas-themed gatefold cover by Baron Von Evil. Snap one up, quick-like---you'll be like a kid at, well, Christmas. Plus, on this first pressing, the label forgot to list the Baron--if there are future pressings, it's likely this will be corrected. Supersuckers:"Call it Christmas Time," "Good Night for My Drinkin'," HOSS: "Merry Christmas Dad," "Santa Loves Black Sabbath." Well done, ZKR. - JESSICA T. - RAZORCAKE


HOLLEY 750 "DEATH MACHINE" CD

The band's name comes from a famed carburetor and they self-describe themselves as "trucker punk". This six-song EP reminds me of a slower Limecell or Cocknoose, and it's hard not to raise a hairy fist in the air as the songs plod on. Jamie Desoto's growly vocals are notably expressive and there's a dedicated "we mean it" vibe to it all that rises to the surface on every track. The song title "Guns and/or Knives" might be tongue-in-cheek, but the seedy lyrics are seriously awesome. - ART ETTINGER - RAZORCAKE


THE RETICENTS "EP I & EP II" CD

Loud hardcore stuff that has enough of a "meathead" feel to give it some anthemic heft, but with a bit more intelligence mixed in to keep them from sounding like, well, meatheads. Not bad at all. - JIMMY ALVARADO - RAZORCAKE


G.G. ALLIN & THE CAROLINA SHITKICKERS SELF-TITLED 7"

Navigating GG Allin's discography can be perilous. People will tell you that it's not worth the effort. On the other hand, there are people who believe the man did no wrong. The reality is somewhere in the middle. These three tunes he recorded with the Carolina Shitkickers--Antiseen's Jeff Clayton and some other rednecks--are an essential stop for anyone interested in hearing what GG could do. Recorded not long before his overdose exit, these songs represent his outlaw country side. On the A-side, you get GG the scumfuc storyteller. "Layin' up with Linda" is a murder ballad that is disturbing in it's absolute coldness. After geting bored and deciding to kill the woman he was shacking up with, the narrator's only regret is that they had some fun together-doing drugs and fucking-and they wouldn't be able to anymore. The B-side is the best,closing out with GG's cover of David Allan Coe's "Long Haired Redneck," renamed and rewritten as "Outlaw Scumfuc." GG's version cranks up the antagonistic attitude of the original. The only thing keeping it from sounding flat-out belligerent are the little details here and there that are most endearing, like how, between talking about fighting and drinking whiskey by the gallon, he adds, "I live on peanut butter sandwiches, I don't care." Details like that-reminders that GG was a human and not a circus freak-are hard to come by in his music. That's why this record is essential. - MP JOHNSON - RAZORCAKE

 

G.G. ALLIN & THE CAROLINA SHITKICKERS SELF-TITLED 7"

This is a reissue of the amazing 7" EP that was originally released on TPOS Records back in 1993, shortly after GG's death. This stuff comes predominately from the last session he ever recorded, less than two weeks before his untimely passing. The Shitkickers were comprised of folks mainly associated with the ANTiSEEN crew in the early 90s, but the band wasn't, as often erroneously stated, ANTiSEEN flying under a different name. There's Greg and Jeff from ANTiSEEN, BBQ Young from the ANTiSEEN road crew, and Robert Everett who, if my memory serves me right, was fronting The Furys around this time. When this was first released, I reviewed it for Kill the Scene and stated that "Layin' Up With Linda," the A-side of this little masterpiece, coulda got country radio play back in the seventies. Looking back on things, that assessment might have been overstated by my own enthusiasm for this particular recording. Country radio in the seventies still pretty much sucked from what I remember hearing in my parents' station wagon. Murder ballads of this ilk may not have haunted the airwaves, but they did take up plenty of room on album sides. This would have made a perfect trinity of dead women tunes (along with "Living on the Run" and "Revenge"), had it appeared on DAC's Longhaired Redneck LP way back then. Is it really good enough to appear on one of the best outlaw country albums ever? Absolutely. It oozes the bleak, matter-of-fact melancholy of a man facing his bad decisions in a way that lots of folks try to nail but few succeed in doing. Not only would I say that this is one of GG Allin's best sides ever, I'll go so far as to say it might be one of the best country sides anybody's committed to wax in the past thirty or so years. Side B features a cover of DAC's "Fuckin' in the Butt," here retitled as "I Wanna Fuck The Shit Outta' You." It's offensive and silly and catchy and fun - probably more so than the original it was lifted from. Lastly, we have a stripped-down country rave-up of "Outlaw Scumfuc" recorded the previous year. It's every bit as "fuck you" in its bare-bones form as it is with a full rock n roll band putting their nuts into it. This record's not just worth having, it's pretty damned essential. Hat's off to Zodiac Killer Records for getting this back out there on vinyl. The GG side features another couple of his country tunes, "Borrowed Time" and "Pick Me Up (On Your Way Down)." I damn near wore out the cassette of this when I was a much younger white-trash hooligan. It's good in the same way a cheap sixer is on a hot day - it gets you a little inebriated and almost slakes your thirst for more. But just in the same way you'll surely run through another six pack 'fore the day gets too long, you'll be spinning this record a few times end over end. No need to doubt me on that. Just try it, if you don't believe me. The Tiny Tim side features three stellar tunes that shine the spotlight on the different facets of Mr. Tim's voice. "Hollywood Cowboys," "Medley for England," and "I Believe in Tomorrow" are enough testament to Tiny's capabilities that nonbelievers may find themselves reevaluating their opinions and seeking out the deluxe God Bless Tiny Tim: The Complete Reprise Recordings while it's still available. Money well spent if you ask me. Hell, Bob Dylan even invited Tiny Tim to Woodstock where Mr. Tim was backed by The Band on some of those legendary Basement Tapes sessions. If having admirers in both GG Allin and Bob Dylan ain't instant street cred, I don't know what is. (BTW - this record is limited to 500 numbered copies, so you best hurry your ass up if you want to get one before it's selling for stupid amounts on ebay). Both of these records are absolutely 5 out of 5 Jim Beam soaked stars. - ALAN KING - RATPUDDING.BLOGSPOT.COM


MAD BROTHER WARD & THE SCREAMING STREET TRASH "HATED BY ALL / AM I COOL, OR WHAT?" CD

Call me naive but some guys in punk rock just have to prove they have bigger balls than King Kong. Some of them do - and Mad Brother Ward might have been one of them because he's still walking around to tell the tales. Kicking around for a couple of years in the early '90s, Mad Brother Ward was like GG Allin on imodium. In other words, he also liked to sling shit - but of the verbal kind. You can hear evidence in the between-song patter on this CD re-issue of his two EPs, where his raps make him sound like a gutterpunk cross between Handsome Dick Manitoba and Jed Clampett. All the audience-baiting invariably resulted in extreme violence and The Screaming Street Trash more or less imploded after being 86'd from more venues than Vladimir Putin on a shirtless vodka bender. So it goes when you push the envelope. Mad Brother Ward & The Screaming Street Trash might have not been the shiniest lights in the US trash punk firmament but there's nontheless some good shit going down on this platter which is their first time on CD. Members of Antiseen fill the band's ranks, which gives you a good clue as to where they were coming from. Which is to say "Hated", "Need It Bad" and "Shitkicker" are pretty great cuts of Killed By Death bile that tell it like it was. "In Trouble" turns the anger back on itself and "Take Ya Down" is crystal clear in its intent. Guitarist Tom Nalley nails the buzzsaw chording adeptly but also proves himself to be unafraid to rip out some sharp licks and mid-range sustain leads. Drummer Greg Clayton is a powerhouse and the Mad Brother himself rails about anything that takes his fancy. It gets a bit samey for mine but the Barmaid says the same about my Dictators records. - THE BARMAN

 

MAD BROTHER WARD & THE SCREAMING STREET TRASH "HATED BY ALL / AM I COOL, OR WHAT?" CD

Zodiac Killer Records should be given some kind of medal of honor for making the Mad Brother Ward and the Screaming Street Trash records available in digital format, thusly righting one of the music world's most egregious wrongs. The Screaming Street Trash may have only existed for a span of two years or so (1992 - 1994 or thereabouts, if my cloudy memory is correct), but what a two years they were. Those years saw Mad Brother and Co. take time out of their rigorous schedule of being banned from North Carolina's seediest punk venues just long enough to record and release two of the finest records to ever come down that worn-out old rock'n'roll pike. The result was the sonic equivalent of Killer Kowalski tearing off your fucking ear and then visiting you in the hospital to laugh in your face. First up was Hated By All on the legendary TPOS label, quickly followed by Am I Cool Or What on Baloney Shrapnel. Produced by ANTiSEEN's Jeff Clayton, these records are thick walls of malevolence that don't need to hide behind insipid political posturing, ridiculous clothing, or any of the other de rigueur accoutrements of the early nineties punk scene. It is a "fuck you" not just of the sake of it, but because it was what everybody else rightly deserved at that moment in time. Cocky it may be, but the grit is there to back it up. A lot of people didn't know what to make of these records when they first came out. The late Tim Yohannon of Maximum Rock'n'Roll rightly praised them both. FLIPSIDE was dumb enough to dismiss the Mad Brother as a GG clone, which is so far from the truth it makes me wonder if that particular dolt of a reviewer even gave the records a spin. I think people were so used to being spoonfed the curdled pablum that was passing as punk that they didn't know what to do when the real deal cold-cocked 'em with five across the motherfucking eyes. These records stand tall alongside anything you want to throw at 'em. They are backbone and gristle and busted knuckles. I was lucky enough to witness the Screaming Street Trash perform on two different occasions. Was this shit for real? Most assuredly. You saw the Ramones in '76? Big fucking deal. Black Flag in '82? Who fucking cares? I saw Mad Brother Ward and the Screaming Street Trash in '93, and it was all that and more. I'm not bragging; I was just a witness. Hell, at that time I was too close to the flame to fully grasp the power of what I was seeing. But after fifteen years of seeing countless bands come and go, I still end up using those MBW shows as a yardstick by which others are measured. This CD release contains both legendary seven inchers and the bonus track "Dead End Sunday." I was hoping maybe someone somewhere salvaged the tape of Mad Brother Ward and Cocknoose double-teaming Joan Jett's "Bad Reputation" for inclusion, but I guess that would have been more than any of us deserve. As it stands, we get fourteen tracks clocking in at around twenty-two minutes. If they were charging by the minute, it'd still be a deal. At a ten dollar sticker price, it's like they're giving it to you. These records hold up every bit as well today as they did on their original release dates. In a time where everyone is watching their wallet and pinching their pennies, this is money well spent. I can't recommend this disc highly enough. Ten out of five stars. - ALAN KING - RATPUDDING.BLOGSPOT.COM


FAST BOYS "ROCK 'N' ROLL TRASH" CD

I was very impressed by the passion and energy shown by The Fast Boys the first time that I listened to this album, but straight away I thought that a few piano keys ala Dave Kuehn or sax ala Michael Monroe could have given a more ventilated side and undoubtedly more variety to their first album. Then I listened to it, again and again to conclude that this “Rock N Roll Trash” is perfect the way it is. If these five young men intended to make their audience insane, then well done guys! Frankly, if when listening to these 14 briskly led songs during this summer did not make you raise your arms in front of your rubber boat, screaming “I' m the king the world!! ”, or if under the influence of this tasty, incisive punk and its guitar playing reminding of J. Thunders, it did not come to your mind to send an email to your boss to write him a big “fuck off!” or if you weren’t the victim of any unusual reaction, then it’s time to consult an ear specialist… I hope in any case that you will have abstained from cutting the throat of your neighbour’s cat… Be careful, “Rock N Roll Trash” brings to behaviours generally related to alcohol and drugs abuse. Without the side effects. - FRANCKIE - VEGLAM WEBZINE

 

FAST BOYS "ROCK 'N' ROLL TRASH" CD

This album has fourteen songs that clock in at less than thirty-two minutes. This reminds me a lot of The Stitches but with GUITAR HERO- sounding solos. There's a fun cover of The Damned's "New Rose" on the CD. All the music is as straightforward as it gets. It's just good, old-fashioned, assaulting punk rock here. - N.L. DEWART - RAZORCAKE

 

FAST BOYS "ROCK 'N' ROLL TRASH" CD

If the Blank Generation vacant stares and op shop threads in the front cover band shot aren't a giveaway, song titles like "Fast Boys DTK", "Self Polluted" and "Yobs Generation" should yield a clue. Fast Boys nominate the relatively benign surrounds of Spartanburg, South Carolina, as their place of residence on their unemployment benefit forms, but in their eyes the world ended at the edge the Lower East Side circa 1978. Which is heartening when you realise that they're so young they were all still itches in their fathers' pants back then... There's more snot in this album that a ward-full of Swine Flu patients and there are parts where it's not half as pretty. If you want to blame someone, pin it on the Dolls, the Heartbreakers and the Dead Boys. Where Fast Boys beg to differ is in their penchant for brevity. Where the Thunders et al would chug away until the inevitable chemical cravings necessitated a toilet break or at least time off for a change of strings, Fast Boys cram 14 songs into their 31 minutes of fame with half of them clocking in at two minutes or less. It's twin-guitars at 20 paces. The lead breaks sound mostly overdubbed and more than a little heavy-handed, but who cares. It's called "Rock N Roll Trash" for a reason. If mouthpiece Pretty Boy's wail and the rest of the guys' backing vox get a bit ragged at times (I'm listening to "Yobs Generation" as I type) then I don't have an issue. I actually don't want to listen to the Vienna Boys Choir. There's lots of bottom end and a keen edge to the guitars that would rip apart raw steak from half a block away. The Fast Boys' songs keep coming at you like blowflies escaping a fridge full of rotten meat, dropping their payload and either fading out or grinding to a shuddering halt. This is what kids sound like when you leave them in the studio with their toys, even when they're less than complimentary about the guy who engineered it. (I mean, who really wants to be known as a "mullet-headed jackass"?) If sloppy isn't a byword for Fast Boys because it's a way of life, the marked exception is a fairly boss cover of "New Rose". Faithfully delivered, it's saved from humdrum by a mean streak of energy right down its middle. A cover that's well covered. No idea about their lifestyle choices and for all I know they're all Junior Rotarians and past employees-of-the-month at their local Jack In The Box, but Fast Boys fairly nail the ethos of sounding like they intend being for here a good time rather than a long one. - THE BARMAN


WORLD WAR IX "PORTRAIT OF SOBRIETY" CD

At long last, New York’s best trashy punk band gets their first proper CD! From what I can tell, these are the complete recorded sessions that included ex-bassist Annick Des Rochesalongside new(er) vocalist Mike Wontor. Basically, you get the four excellent songs from the Brown Bagging It 7” EP, the two blistering songs from their split 7” with The Mapes, and three more great songs, including a cover of “I Was Drunk When I Met Ya” by The Yams. It’s a whirlwind of Damaged-era Black Flag fury fused with the sloppy sonic assault of GG Allin, and it goes really well with cheap beer. “Portrait of sobriety,” indeed! - THE BIG TAKEOVER MAGAZINE

 

WORLD WAR IX "PORTRAIT OF SOBRIETY" CD

The problem with stopping in New York is that there is so much going on here that we realistically could spend an entire columns worth of time hanging around town, digging through the bargain bins, looking behind the dumpsters, poking our heads in the basement bars, and finding every imaginable form of music. Case in point, the full on drunken punk vibes of World War IX. These guys take irreverent to a whole new level with tunes like �Intervention,� �I Was Drunk When I Met Ya�,� and the title track to their latest album �Portrait of Sobriety.� There�s something about this album that keeps me coming back, and it�s probably because it reminds me of that time when I was a kid in the mid 80�s hearing the Sex Pistols for the first time. Unlike the Pistols there�s no huge social or political message being spouted on about here, for the most part, it�s all about getting wasted and being pretty damned proud of it. And you know what? I�m okay with that. Check out their MySpace page and then swing by Zodiac Killer Records to pick up the album. Woody . . . how�re them drinks coming? - THE RIPPLE EFFECT


KILEGO VERT "JOURNEY TO THE DEEPEST PART OF THE OCEAN" CD

Any of you who grew up in the 60�s and 70�s knew the name Jacques Cousteau. He became synonymous with life in the water. Heck . . . I remember standing in ankle deep water in my old inflatable wading pool with flippers, a diving mask, and a pair of tidy whities as I tried to emulate my oceanic hero. The visual can be quite cute of a six year old acting out such fantasies, but in my case . . . it was last weekend and my neighbors were far from amused. Again, I digress, for what does any of this really have to do with this surprisingly artful release from Kilego Vert? Well, other than the title and theme of the album, absolutely nothing. Truth be told, I don�t believe Jacques Cousteau is even mentioned on this album, but it�s hard not to image the guy splashing around with the water life to this blissful soundtrack.Journey to the Deepest Part of the Ocean is a majestic piece of music that borders on the surreal. The music captures the preparations of a deep sea dive. The anticipation of the boat crew scurrying about the deck, checking the oxygen mixtures in the tanks of the sub are correct, making sure the hoses are puncture free, going over the charts as their boat sways over the gently lulling ocean waves. The story carries on as our divers immerse themselves in the underwater delights, reeling in the fantastic voyage of discovery as unknown species of fish carry on their daily routine. The musical styling can best be described as a conglomeration of The Police and Pink Floyd with a touch of dissonant guitar to bulk up the sound and brought to life with a vocal performance from a subdued Peter Garrett of Midnight Oil fame. Journey to the Deepest Part of the Ocean is a little proggy, a little psychedelic, a little jazzy, and who lotta� raucous as the band takes on one hell of a trip. Broken into three ambitious sections, the album starts with �The Dive,� which highlights those subdued Garrett-esque vocals. The clean guitar tones enhance the visual of the sun shimmering on an early morning Pacific Ocean and capture the mood of peace as out travelers head towards the dive point. Eventually, the tempo increases, the instruments all get a bit louder as the excitement for the dive mounts, and our heroes are submerged in the depths of the unknown. The jazzier aspects of the band shine bright on �The Dive� with a touch a huge rock n� roll guitar sound. The wah drench guitar solo is one to take in with all senses and the subsequent musical break at the 6:15 mark is awesome with its stunning time changes and tight execution. The song seems to grasp for the peaceful solitude of life without the interference of human existence, exploring the human condition within the discovery of a vast world untouched by the defiled hands of mankind. The tune goes into full on Police jazz mode as the song starts to wind down and Andy Summers would probably crack a small grin of appreciation at that run. �Sum Kind of Exploration� opens with a tripped out, psychedelic wave of sound that brings to mind a great visual of the lights from the descending sub reflecting on the various underwater particles and life forms, beyond the reach of the beam of light . . . nothing but imposing darkness. Searching to find something that will make sense of all life, our three heroes continue their descent to the deepest part of the ocean, taking in more and more of the wondrous life forms that most men will never lay eyes on. At this moment, the guitar solo kicks in and suddenly, it�s as if David Gilmour was the captain, cruise director, and purser all wrapped into one. Guitarist KilegoTy whips out a phenomenally emotional solo much the way that Gilmour is famous for. So rich and full of texture, that solo should be grabbing the attention of the folks at Guitar World! But wait . . . there�s more! Keep listening and you�ll hear another solo steeped in wah delight that will simply take your breath away. �Resurfacing� is the final track to the story and basically tells the tale of Keligo Vert returning from their voyage to the bottom of the ocean, hopefully finding what they were longing to find. As the tune starts off, it meanders a bit . . . restrained and slowly building to some massive musical movement. With the piano keys chiming, the cymbals shimmering, vocals crooning, much like the air bubbles floating back to the surface, we can feel an uplifting sensation as the lads work their way to the next groove. Then the guitars kick in with a classic Pink Floyd delayed guitar groove that takes its time to build into this raucous passage of echoing guitars, heavy bass groove, and pummeling drums. The layered guitars work well on this track, harmonizing on the run of scales and adding further weight to main riff. And, of course, we�re treated to another searing guitar solo that acts as the exclamation point to this band and its creativity, original in approach and tone, yet taking just enough from the past that there�s an air of familiarity to the whole thing. Kilego Vert did an excellent job of creating a concept album that takes the listener on a journey. Yes, there�s the whole Journey to the Deepest Part of the Ocean thing, but there�s also the journey to the deepest part of the mind. Musically, these guys stand on their own. All three members of the band are not only adept at working with each other to create fascinating music they also inject their own personalities to the vibrant palate and allow this record to soar. What I appreciated the most though is the way they structured the album on a musical level. It�s a concept album with very few vocals to it in comparison to the musical passages, yet they were able to tell a story nonetheless. The story flowed with the serene intro to the days dive, the hectic anticipation and preparations to the dive, the dive itself, the introspection along the way of the journey, and the conflict with returning from a blissful paradise to a world that tends to be uglier than anyone would like. All of the emotion was captured. Welcome back to the surface, lads . . . looking forward to your next excursion! - POPE JTE


BUZZCRUSHER SELF-TITLED CD

As long as I can remember, I've had a thing for Texas. I've never been there and I don't know why. When I was a kid, I was stoked that there was a town with the same name as me (Tyler), but as I got older and into music, I found that a lot of the bands I liked were from the LoneStarState: Big Boys, Butthole Surfers, D.R.I., Roky Erickson, ZZ Top, Geto Boys, Marked Men, Riverboat Gamblers.... There was always something about Texas bands that wasn't quite right in a good way and Buzzcrusher is no different. This here is heavy, down South rock punk. Songs about guns, getting wasted, being Texan, "scorin' dope from bikers," and a Discharge cover. Musically, these guys are falling in somewhere between Antiseen and Poison Idea. That's some heavy company, but Buzzcrusher fits in just fine. - TY STRANGLEHOLD


THE ANTARES "START YOUR ENGINES WITH THE ANTARES" CD

Italian rock and roll can be hit-or-miss. There are a lot of toilets posing as recording studios (not a problem in itself - except when they're public) and a worryingly high proportion of bands seem to be into metal of the heavy or death variety. The good news is that The Antares don't seem to hang out around the urinals or to like . The Antares play flat-out guitar music that's as much rock as it is punk. That might need explanation. You know how vomit always contains carrots, no matter what you've eaten? Music from the greased back, stripped down spectrum of late '50s rock is The Antares' version of carrots. Hopefully, the vomit reference hasn't put anyone off their lunch because The Antares are very palatable Rock Action. "Start Your Engines..." is just 10 songs in 30 minutes but what a rockin' half-hour it is. The Antares are a trio who kick the shit out of their songs with barely controlled abandon. There's nowhere to hide in a three-piece band and none of them need to. The guitar is fat-sounding and right up-front, the singer blurts it out with no affectations and the drummer nails the beat with more than a little swing, especially on "So What (Bout Our Rock n Roll)." Fans of tear-me-a-new-arsehole guitar will like what they hear. There are more arpeggios than a chord repair shop but they're reeled off like a six-string machine gun rather than a Steve Vai There are no surprises here but it'd be a shock if you could point your finger at something in the rock and roll sewer line that is. Opener "Seek You Down In Hell" is a scene-setter. Its deceptively-buried drum pattern intro slides into a full-on ragged assault that batters the ears in the best way. From then on in, the rock doesn't drop with "16 Was Too Much", "Hard Cock Blues" and the showy but solid instro "Start Your Engines" all stand-outs. There were no metronomes used on this record. I know because the CD slick tells me so. I can't tell you how relieved I am to hear that. That's cool. If you're going to be a cock rocker, wear the badge on your sleeve. - THE BARMAN


THE ANTARES "START YOUR ENGINES WITH THE ANTARES" CD

According to the band's MySpace page, Antares hails from Appletown, British Indian Ocean Territory. I have no idea where that is. Not that it matters - the trio's spiritual home is clearly some cheap dive in Hell, where the booze is laced with angel dust and the bar fights always end in blood. Gentlemen...Start Your Engines blazes away like a forest fire ignited by napalm, barely stopping to catch a breath of foul air. Peel back the teethgrinding aggression, though, and you'll find actual riffs and real tunes hanging on for dear life. "Seek You Down in Hell," "Nightmare (On St. John Street)" and the instrumental "Start Your Engines" sound like garage rock after being sodomized by Metallica. (That's 80s Metallica, mind you.) Plus the band should receive some kind of "Let It All Hang Out" award for honesty for the song "Hard Cock Blues." Frontdude PY could use a little dynamics in his scream, but he's a hell of a picker - his six-string slashing helps put the tunes on a level above most punk thrashers. Antares is all gassed up with everywhere to go. - MICHAEL TOLAND - SONIC RUIN


STILETTO BOYS "8-TRACK" 7"

If someone told me that this was recorded 20 years ago, I wouldn't be surprised. Four songs in all of exciting and raw punk rock with loads of melody. Equal parts HEARTBREAKERS/DEAD BOYS snarl with SWEET/STATUS QUO rockisms. Each song kicks equally. - LANCE HAHN - MAXIMUM ROCKNROLL

 

STILETTO BOYS "8-TRACK" 7"

While Amish till the fields, Zodiac Records crank out tastey punk rock morsels in Camp Hill, PA. This EP is a godsend for DEAD BOYS fans hankering for a new addition to the stacks. The back sleeve features the all-male band doing "the tuck" that has thrilled adolescent boys for generations. A couple of pressings of 200 each gets this on the Peer Pressure A-list. - MARTIN MCMARTIN - FLIPSIDE/R.A.F.R RECORDS

 

STILETTO BOYS "ATTITUDE ADJUSTER" 7"

From all indications this looked like bad retro-drunk CBGB's sloppy punk rock. The badly drawn cartoon babe on the cover is wearing a DEAD BOYS shirt even, but cut my legs off and call me shorty - it's not like that at all. This is really good late-70's type snotty pop, the kind only found on singles printed in tiny quantities. 4 songs with bad production values, but that's OK. Excellent in every way. Gimme more of the same. - EMERSON - O.P.W.Z.

 

STILETTO BOYS "ATTITUDE ADJUSTER" 7"

The STILETTO BOYS are rocknroll at it's absolute finest!! They possess the kind of infectious toe-tapping, bouncy energy that most bands would kill for. Take the DEAD BOYS/HEARTBREAKERS punk rocknroll fury and inject it with classic power pop and rocknroll melodic power... that's what you get with the STILETTO BOYS. - JOSH RUTLEDGE - NOW WAVE MAGAZINE

 

STILETTO BOYS "ALL ALONE" 7"

This native PA band is really starting to make an impression. This 7" is real tough. It's similar to their "Attitude Adjuster" tracks from awhile back so I'm sure it won't disappoint you if you're a fan of these guys already. "All Alone" is a classic STILETTO BOYS ballad. A solid clean guitar sound, harmonized vocals, and just all around catchy. "You Said" is quite possibly one of the best songs the Boys have ever recorded. - SEAN OBNOXIOUS - THE NEUS SUBJEX

 

STILETTO BOYS "ROCKETS & BOMBS" LP/CD

WOW the Lancaster PA punk scene spawned this latest set of punk/power pop meisters. Lancaster?! Oh well, lesson learned; good things come from obscure cities. STILETTO BOYS are a super tight, killer cool bunch of guys playing earnestly and fiercely, the type of quality music you don't find these days. It's melodic like the BUZZCOCKS, cynical like the ADVERTS, and catchier than a case of the clap in a Southeast Asian whorehouse. Chalk up another winner for High Society! Hooray! - NAMELLA J. KIM... FLIPSIDE FANZINE

 

STILETTO BOYS "A COMPANY OF WOLVES " CD

I don’t even remember the last time that I heard a pop album that was this good. They wear their hearts and influences on their torn, striped sleeves, ladies and gentlemen—the Stiletto Boys. This ain’t ’77? Leave me the fuck alone pal — I don’t wanna think otherwise. The Buzzcocks (a cool cover of "I Don’t Mind"), The Dickies (you can just hear it on "Heaven Help Me" — even in the lyrics), The Jam (their version of "Life from a Window"), Stiff Little Fingers (tell me the beginning of "Mind Control" doesn’t sound like parts of "No More of That," and I’ll tell you that you’re full of shit), etc… Normally, I’d condemn the holy hell out of any lame-ass ’77 revivalist outfit, but the Stiletto Boys won’t take it — they put their own spin on it, replete with absolutely killer vocal harmonies, thick guitars and a rhythm section that refuses to take a backseat to the rest of the band. I’ve noticed quite a few people in 2001 are distancing themselves from the pop epidemic these days, and I don’t blame ‘em. There are too many bad pop outfits out there right now; too many shit bands resting on their limp-dick laurels, devoid of any trace of pure rock ‘n’ roll or genuine energy. But if you are one of those "types" who has dismissed pop altogether in favor of sucking up an equally overused offshoot of the rock crop (i.e. cookie-cutter garage, "big" rock and—ugh—"chaotic hardcore"), then I fucking pity you, ‘cause you’ll miss out on cool discs such as this. Buy POP! Buy STILETTO BOYS! - EL - BLANK GENERATION

 

 

STILETTO BOYS "LIBERATOR " CD

Wow! The long awaited third LP from the Stiletto Boys is finally here, and to say that it doesn't disappoint would be a severe understatement. We're talking about one of my favorite bands of all-time. And even by the boys' lofty standards, Liberator is a stunning achievement. If this is truly the band's parting opus, what a way to go out! The story behind Liberator is pretty incredible. The first version of the album was recorded back in 2008, but Stiletto Boys singer Sean Wolfe wasn't 100 percent happy with the final product. In a bold move, he decided to scrap the whole recording and start over from the beginning. He had an idea in his head of how he expected Liberator to sound, and he wasn't going to be satisfied until it was perfect. Lesser artists would have just said, "Ah, good enough" and released the album as it was. But "good enough" is not in the Stiletto Boys' vocabulary. Come hell or high water, they were going to get it right. A lot of people probably figured that Liberator would never see the light of day. But Sean never gave up. He and guitarist Eric Benner recorded, produced, and mixed the album over a period of five years with band members tracking recordings in three different states. And now here it is - a pop masterpiece that was every bit worth the wait! It is, in my opinion, the best Stiletto Boys album. Arriving nearly 13 years after the release of 2000's Buzzbomb Sounds, Liberator is the band's most sophisticated and mature release to date. Yet it does not lose sight of what made the Stiletto Boys such a great band to begin with. The group's music remains rooted in the powerpop and classic melodic punk of the late '70s. But over a long career, the boys have cultivated a sound that is uniquely and fully their own. From the first strains of phenomenal opener "Cannon Fodder", you know this is a Stiletto Boys album. And for that, you are grateful! You know how sometimes you'll have a friend that you haven't seen in years, but as soon as you meet up with them again, it's like you never spent a day apart? That's what it's like listening to this album. When that first chorus hits, it's magic. Every time the Stiletto Boys make a new record, you can hear how their sound has progressed from the last one. They are never content to repeat themselves. But with each step forward, they manage to retain their knack for gorgeous melodies and flawlessly constructed hooks. And while I will always love the energy and immediacy of the band's earlier recordings, Liberator is equally satisfying in a very different way. Instead of whacking you in the head upon first contact, these songs grow on you. I've been hearing them in my sleep (not that I'm complaining)! In this age of instant gratification and bands rushing to get their music out there, it's great to hear a group that has clearly worked hard at honing its craft and realizing an artistic vision. Liberator is truly the punk/powerpop album the world needs right now. While there are some love songs on the record (the gut-wrenching "Happy Endings" is one of the boys' best songs ever!), the scope and variety of the lyrics are beyond what anyone would have expected. If Liberator is "about" anything, it's about making one's way in a scary modern world and getting wise to the powers that are conspiring against us. Lyrics run the gamut from deeply personal ("Basement") to contemporary dystopian ("Follow The Leader"). And through a combination of insightful lyrics and highly pertinent sound bites, this album really implores people to stop being willing participants in their own oppression. While sometimes music serves as mere escape from the harsh realities of life, in certain cases it can actually inspire people to get out there and do something. The bad guys don't necessarily have to win. There's definitely meaning in the title of this album. Hats off to Sean, Casey, Benner, and Garvin for making a truly special record. And kudos to Ron from Zodiac Killer Records for believing in the band and this project. Anyone who questioned the time it took to make Liberator will be eating their words once they hear the album. Every time Sean insisted on re-doing a song, it was only because he knew they could still do better. And now the proof is in the pudding. The production is impeccable (listen to those harmonies!), the songs are brilliant, and Benner's guitar work is positively sick. I never cease to be amazed at how talented these guys are. Liberator gives you everything from bouncy powerpop gems like "Self Destruction" to masterful minor key ballads like "Ttwsyf". Yet no song seems out of place. This is not just 15 songs randomly thrown onto a CD. It's a true album - which may be a dying concept in the digital age. Go to http://www.zodiackillerrecords.com/ for ordering information - or download it immediately from iTunes! - LORD RUTLEDGE - FASTER AND LOUDER

 


THE INSOMNIAXE "NO SLEEP" CD
As you've no doubt noticed, it's CRAMPS month here at Peacedogman. Of course, now that the retrospective on the career of Lux Interior and company has been written and the due amount of respect has been paid, there should be one burning question in all our minds: Who's going to take up the banner for the psychobilly genre with which THE CRAMPS have become synonymous? One band throwing their name into the hat is Denver's INSOMNIAXE. But what makes them unique, you ask? First, they've stepped up the macabre factor with a dark, fuzzy album cover complete with an almost black metal looking logo. Second, the amount of punk rock in play here is at least twenty fold what THE CRAMPS ever did, although they still proudly maintain that 50s greaser persona. On top of that, the popping snare and fuzzy guitars give the band a more modern sound. Opening track "Psychobilly Cadillac Hearse" spells it out perfectly: It's what Buddy Holly would have come up with if he was really, really pissed off against the establishment. Track two, "Mad Cats," conjures up images of some bizarre-o zombie spaghetti Western, as Southern-style picking gets doused in punk rock attitude. The next two tracks show stark contrast, as "Lookout!" brings good-time toe-tapping swing, only to give way to the band's punkier side come "What's That Noise?" Finally, "No Sleep 'til Death" shows that the band can sandwich the two styles together to give listeners a longer, creepier experience. We're not going to come to any hasty conclusions yet, though. Five songs are by no means enough to warrant any torch passing. Still, these INSOMNIAXE lads have a sound original enough and songs well-crafted enough to make a respectable name for themselves already. Hell, maybe someday they too will be worthy of a Peacedogman feature of their very own! In the meantime, we'll sit and watch the carnage from a safe distance. - CARDONA - WWW.PEACEDOGMAN.COM


 

THE MARX SELF-TITLED CD
Made up of the usual ne'er-do-wells, the Marx hail from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, The band plays punk rock, but with a dirty, sleazy edge, like a bunch of spiky-haired diehards who've spent too many days in crackhouses with 20-dollar whores. Revved-up Chuck Berry licks meet Iggy-on-battery acid vocals on the way to sodomize a rhythm section. From Leg Ave. to Tie Me Up Tie Me Down to Zombie Hookers From Outerspace, the tunes are short and to the point, which is as it should be. The Marx doesn't fuck around, and if you're going to feed this into your player, neither should you. - MICHAEL TOLAND - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM

 

THE MARX SELF-TITLED CD
This is fast, silly, basic punk rock music. Most people know what to expect from song titles like "(She's Got A) Manifesto" and "Zombie Hookers from Outerspace." But hey, at least The Marx deliver on their title musings with distorted blues-based rock progressions and gritty vocals. This is nine tracks of a good time that go by too fast. - N.L. DEWART - RAZORCAKE


 

PUNK AS A DOORNAIL "FLOGGING THE PUNK HORSE" CD
There are rock duos like the White Stripes or the Black Keys, who play big-ass, bluesy rock & roll that covers for the sparse instrumental lineup (or deficiencies). There are also rock twosomes like They Might Be Giants or Ween, who use humor and a million overdubs to fill out the sound. Then there's Punk As a Doornail, who are somewhere in between. The pair's bluesy punk (performed on drums, miscellaneous percussion and some Dr. Seuss-looking thing called a skatar) mixes with whimsical little ditties like Mother's Day (Don't punch her in the face/Because it's Mother's Day/Give her a break), Richard's Farm (which warns Don't let Richard near the barn!), Money Better Spent On Beer (self-explanatory) and Personal Hygiene (ditto). The tunes choogle on what are essentially bone-simple slide guitar riffs, but let's face it: the music doesn't matter as much as the lyrics. Your mileage may vary, depending on whether or not you think a song called A Sh*t Called Art (guess what they rhyme art with) is funny on the face of it. But the pair is smart enough to run the songs together like one big number, and they're over and done before the 30 minute mark. I don't know how well Flogging a Punk Horse will hold up over repeated listens, but it's good for at least one half-hour of entertainment. - MICHAEL TOLAND - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM

 

PUNK AS A DOORNAIL "FLOGGING THE PUNK HORSE" CD
P.A.A.D. is an incredible, two-piece joke band from Orange County that performs goofy, stupid, brilliant, crass, punk as hell anthems like "Bloody Gumballs" and "Dead As A Sad Snail". The guitarist supposedly (fer sher does!!-pic. of "skatar" on cd)* plays a guitar converted from an old skateboard, which goes beyond funny and into the realm of honestly awesome. Most 13 year olds in bands write more mature lyrics than these guys, but there's nothing more enduring than aging rockers singing about giving mothers a break on Mother's Day by not raping or punching them in the face. I'm in love with this timeless folly. - ART ETTINGER - RAZORCAKE


FUCKLAND - SELF-TITLED CD
For every ten bands carefully following prescribed trends, there's one that just wants to tear shit up. Consider this band's moniker: Sure, names like METALUCIFER and even BIBLE OF THE DEVIL seem uncompromising on the surface, but putting the word "Fuck" right in your name kinda puts all the cards on the table, doesn't it? This trio (Askorpin Bastard - Drums, Fuckin' Gorilla - guitar/vox, Johnny Pain Is Dead- bass) isn't looking to be the next American Idol darlings, that's for sure. As much as I love the trashy Diablo-bimbo vibe of the CD and the tight, grimy execution, it doesn't take too many spins to figure out that FUCKLAND has two speeds: fast and faster. It's the type of CD that you stick on, and before you know it you're already sitting through track 10. The drummer bashes away with a brutally simple approach, making a joke out of most tick ‘n kick-obsessed "metal god" drummers on the Candlelight and Nuclear Blast rosters with their bajillion-dollar kits. It's ZEKE / DWARVES-style speedpunk with a quick wail here and there come guitar solo time (check out "Everybody Hates Me", for example). There's no lacking in intensity, but like much of the Swedish D-beat stuff of the late 90s, there's not a lot lingering song-wise once the smoke clears. Personally, I'd like to hear some chugging, mosh-friendly slowdown riffs to help accentuate the speeding lunacy that FUCKLAND delivers so well. This one lays a solid foundation, but I'm looking forward to more lights and darks next time. - MARCHMAN - WWW.PEACEDOGMAN.COM


*ZODIAC EDITORIAL

* I KNEW THAT THE PUNK ROCK POLICE AT MRR OR SOME SNOT-NOSED-PUKE-OF-A-PC "PUNK ROCKER" WHO WORKS THERE WOULD TRASH THIS 7" BECAUSE IT IS A DWARVES 7"..... AND THEY SAY "BITCH" AND WHAT NOT.....BUTT FUCK!!! THIS IS EPIC:

DWARVES/ROYCE CRACKER - SPLIT 7"
Boy, do I ever wish the DWARVES broke up 15-20 years ago. This is the worst piece of shit Ive listened to in a long time. The theme of the EP is crystal meth and the lyrics would have been a lot better had the band just asked a 12-year-old tweeker to write about speed. Even the fake drugs included in the packaging look like shit

* THIS I SEE AS A PERSONAL SWING AT ME CUZ THOSE DRUGS LOOK GOOD! HEY, EFF-YOU KID WHO REVIEWED THIS! BETTER PRAY NOONE EVER POINTS YOU OUT AT A SHOW CUZ THIS OLD MAN MAY "BUMP" INTO YOUR PC-ASS. PUNK.

ROYCE CRACKER is just various members of the DWARVES writing songs about the same silly drug. This is so awful that I'm getting too angry to write anything else. - MRR # 311 [ REVIEWER'S NAME INTENTIONALLY OMITTED ]

* HEY MRR KID, GLAD I PISSED YA OFF. EVER THINK MAYBE THAT'S WHY WE MADE THIS 7"?...JUST TO PISS YER DUMBASS OFF. SUCCESS! THIS IS GOING IN THE SCRAPBOOK.)

 

 

DWARVES/ROYCE CRACKER - SPLIT 7"
Most Ripple readers won't need an introduction to the Dwarves, the legendary punk cretins have been plowing their sleaze-infested hardcore punk road since the eighties, hooking up with legendary labels like SubPop and Epitaph. Now, one of the unabashed master labels of garage trash punk, Zodiac Killer Records has the Dwarves and unleashes this 5 song EP of mental drug-induced brain damage on us with nary a snicker of regret. Known for 15 minute stage shows, legendary drug use, and live stage show sex antics, the last Dwarves album showed their disheveled, deviant punk game expanding to include such guests as Nick Oliveri and Dexter Holland and some hip hop/rap added into their dime back of smack tricks. This single picks up where that left off and is recommended primarily for those demented individuals who get the Dwarves joke. So, what do we get with this latest offering? A clusterfuck mocking tribute to the madness and insanity of all things methamphetamine. Side One starts with a pure metal/punk outburst "Speed Demon Live UK 1995,"downtuned heavy metallic guitars, bass low enough to be subsonic and a spoken/sung word introductory passage that paints a portrait of a drug city better than any you've heard since Jim Carroll. When the punk picks up, you suddenly remember how fucking good The Dwarves are when they got their game on. "Tweak," changes gears as suddenly as "Speed City," was raging. The punk is gone, replaced by DJ Marz spinning the discs, Blag stream-of-conscious, bordering on insanity, rapping over a looping bass heavy beat, a song of pure drug-induced paranoia and any other unstable mental state you can name that comes courtesy of that deadly powder. Side two picks up where side one ended, Rex Everything taking the mic and the beats in some barely discernible mountain of madness, dropping right into the urban throbbing angst-punk of "Meth Stop Calling." The carnival neo-rap of "Who Put the Methamphetamine in Mr. Everything," rounds us off with a surprise circus atmosphere melody that will stick in your head like chewed gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe. I've read some negative reviews of this disc, but in truth, it's brilliant in it's freaked out madness. Oh yeah, colored vinyl, a nifty Dwarves sticker, and limited pressing to 1000 round out the package. Don't miss out! - THE RIPPLE EFFECT - RIPPLEMUSIC.BLOGSPOT.COM


VARIOUS ARTISTS: "DRINK. FIGHT. FUCK. VOLUME ONE" CD
The way I try to attack compilations these days is to pretend I don't own any music at all (the first album I ever had was some K-Tel thing with OZZY, JOAN JETT, and KROKUS among others). The problem is, the labels often stick in ridiculous trendy bunkum like goth-girl singers, ambient drone experiments and laptop-rock duos that cause me to jolt upright, dashing any attempts to re-connect with the years of innocence. Plus there's usually a few made-up bands and goofy filler cuts to wade through, leaving three or four standout tracks worth keeping overall. Well, Ron at Zodiac Killer has found an interesting way to square that circle, assembling a genuine collection of more scummy degenerates than you'd find in a Mexico City pawn shop. The focus is three-minute, high velocity rockers from active bands (not duos), with a backwoodsy trailer-trash focus. It's remarkable how much variety is packed into the Zodiac framework, from rockabilly to riffy power pop, to sleaze punk and beyond. Skulking riffs and satanic vox over a 60s garagey bassline prove to be a winning combo in THE IRISH BROTHERS' "Psycho Pompadour", and Elray Gunn's redneck crowing makes for endless charm in DOUBLEWIDE's "Mean Ol Cuss". Plus, at a time when supercontrived fare borne of designer hoodies and drum triggers plague our mailbox, its refreshing to have your brain violated by bands with monikers like THE KANSAS CITY FAGGOTS (yes, its a "Blazing Saddles" reference and may be the strongest track of them all), THE SONIC NEGROES and TRUCKSTOP LOVECHILD. Plus, it includes appearances from Peacedoggie favorites THE DWARVES and HIP PRIESTS. This stuff is real, rude, and right-on-the-money, and if any one of these bands hit the stage in your town, they'll likely send the laptop duos a-packing. Fans of anything from ANTISEEN to FU MANCHU need to sit up and take notice of this label. - MARCHMAN - PEACEDOGMAN.COM

 

VARIOUS ARTISTS: "DRINK. FIGHT. FUCK. VOLUME ONE" CD
A nice twenty-four-song comp of bands that find common ground in the sleazier rock’n’roll fringes of the punk, hardcore, and psychobilly subgenres. Most of this stuff—courtesy of the Dwarves, Black River Mafia, The Hitchhikers, Kansas City Faggots, Funhouse Strippers, and more—sounds like it comes from recent stock, but they keep the punk swagger and attitude at maximum, giving it a bit of an edge over the competition by not sinking into some pretentious quasi-glam metalfest. Good stuff. - JIMMY ALVARADO - RAZORCAKE

 

VARIOUS ARTISTS: "DRINK. FIGHT. FUCK. VOLUME TWO" CD
When you pick up a compilation with a cover featuring a zombified GG Allin getting fondled by a couple drunk and tattooed punk chicks on it, you know what to expect. You know that you’re going to hear a bunch of scumpunk bands doing sloppy tunes about pooping on faces, sticking dicks into mud puddles and that sort of thing. However, when you put this disc in, your expectations will not be met. It’s filled with straight-forward punk’n’roll. You will be baffled by its uniform excellence. You will be amazed by the general lack of throwaway tunes that tend to plague compilations (There is one glaring exception—“Emo Fag” by DMF—which is made all the uglier by the fact that it follows “Watch Your Back” by the Sonic Negroes, which could be the best on the disc). You may want to play it again. - MP JOHNSON - RAZORCAKE

 

VARIOUS ARTISTS: "DRINK. FIGHT. FUCK. VOLUME TWO" CD
If you're over all those compilations of diverse and mostly unknown bands that were falling faster than confetti a few years ago - and you suspected many were a pyramid scheme-styled money-maker for someone, but just not the bands on 'em - here's a reason to take a fresh listen. This is absolutely top shelf and a reminder how much fun down and dirty can be. Absolute High Energy is the common ingredient across a dizzying 28 tracks. There's a litmus test that was applied while kicking this one around for a month or so. Maybe it landed at the right time or I'd just been browned-off by the parade of lesser compiles, but this is a disc where I can almost always pick a track at random, find something of worth and hang in for the rest of the ride. ADHD's "Hot Ticket" is one landing point that demands repeat spins. I have no idea who they are (Google drew a blank before law firms touting for class actions flooded the rankings) but this is like a red hot poker up the bot. Either that or your piles are acting up. A creeping bassline, molasses-thick guitars joining the fray and a frantic singer testifying against a solid backbeat that falls into a breakdown before a fiery six-string Tek-tinged solo. There's lots more to wax about. Like the wah-wah solo in Sonic Negroes' "Watch Your Back" or the crunch of Peter Phelps Ass Cobra and "Good Times" for another (an Aussie outgrowth of the late Specimens). Politically incorrect though it may be but "Emo Fag" by SoCal trio DMF is as funny as all get out. May it (and they) torment bands like Chemical Romance forever and a day. Steaknives are from Italy and will draw a smile for their Bon Scott reference and daylight robbery of one of history's best-known guitar solos. "Big Money" is nothing if not brazen. Happy Days. Did I say already that The Hitchikers sound like the Dictators and the Dead Boys in a knifefight? Leeringly good and they rock like a motherfucker. More on them soon. You might be aware by a review elsewhere her that The Nicotine Fits can do no wrong. On "Shake Me Some Action" they shake the noise out of their four minutes of disc-time like a pit bull with a baby in its mouth. Familiar turf ahead: Both the Specimens ("Head Straight") and The Last of The Bad Men ("Tail Block") are I-94 Bar regulars that are coming from similar places and these songs should inspire you to hunt down more examples of both. In the case of the former, look no further than Zodiac Killer's fab re-issue of their first two albums plus EPs. The eloquent closing spoken word track is called "Irate Fuckin' Australian Dude" and should be Tourism Australia's next campaign theme. It couldn't do worse than hitching the wagon to a lame movie or some Sheila asking where the fucking hell are you? The consistency is amazing. I could go on - but so could you if you bought a copy. Take the hint. - THE BARMAN

 

VARIOUS ARTISTS: "DRINK. FIGHT. FUCK. VOLUME THREE" CD
Zodiac Killer Records is one of our most consistent sources of louduglydirty rock & roll, so it only makes sense that the label's Drink. Fight. Fuck. compilations provide the same sleazy pleasures. Most of Volume III is the usual lean and mean punk ‘n' roll mania from the likes of the Candy Snatchers, the Hip Priests, the Wild Zeros, Kung Fu Killers, Hooked On Southern Speed, etc., with splashes of psychobilly thrown in. Some of the most notable cuts have a C&W edge - Utah County Swillers' Young Dumb and Flat Tires' Payin' Dues...Again nicely kick both shit and ass. Plus there are enough ringers here to get the attention of anyone not already on the Zodiac Killer train. Antiseen contributes a smashing cover of the Sex Pistols' Belsen Was a Gas, the Supersuckers' Eddie Spaghetti (whose band is the likely inspiration for about half of ZK's roster) weighs in on some Killer Weed, the Dwarves' Blag Dahlia lays down his own country honk with Bitch I Love You (not the Black Joe Lewis song) and Hellstomper hits with You're Gonna Kill That Girl, the last song the band ever recorded. (Though for my money King's new group Polecat Boogie Revival is the superior entity, as evidenced by Barefoot at Lamar's.) At 32 tracks, this collection is almost too much of a good thing, but excess is the point, right? Well, that, and, as the Broadsiders put it , Booze, Sex, and Breakin' Necks. - MICHAEL TOLAND - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM

 

VARIOUS ARTISTS: "DRINK. FIGHT. FUCK. VOLUME THREE" CD
Hard to believe that this collection's equally great - and maybe a smidgin better - than its predecessor. A whopping 32 songs and almost all of them top-shelf gutter-punk Rock Action. It's hard to know where to start but let's get the better-known suspects out of the way first: Antiseen contribute a straight-up "Belsen Was a Gas" and the Candy Snatchers' "Doin' Time" is one of their catchiest tunes. Trucker cap supremos Hellstomper step on the Ramones' toes with a cunt-rified "You're Gonna Kill That Girl" and Eddie Spaghetti provides the most mellowed moment of the collection with "Killer Weed", a road tune to cherish. The Hip Priests are a bit of an I-94 Bar fave and "Sonic Reproducer" does their rep for loud, fast and scientific about carnal activities no harm whatsoever. Torpedo Monkeys don't stray too far out of their coop with "Chicken Sing", a stand-out from their album on the same label. The balance of the collection comes from a dizzying array of ne'er do wells, bottom-feeders and bogans assembled from all points of the compass. Fast and loud is mainly their stock-in-trade, although Royce Cracker (an acid trip carnival ride called "Who Put The Methamphetamines In Mr Everything?"), hot gospellers The Bible Beaters ("Jesus Invented Beer") and country-shuiffling Blag Dahlia ("Bitch I Love You") break from the pack in nice style. There's a lot of small town Amerika in a band like Polecat Boogie Revival whose "Barefoot At Lamar's" gets a hard-on in a local bar, while Hooked On Southern Speed ("Truckin' For Jesus") seem intent on rolling right through the front-door of some unfortunate truckstop with grim intent. There's the same irresistible feel plus a barroom singalong element in "Young Dumb" by The Utah County Swillers. Anyone picking up a common thread? They might be wailing about the devil's number and all that but it's next to impossible to stay still during "#6 Dance" by Truckstop Lovechild. The Lash Outs ("Dreamcatcher") take a detour into '70s glam and doesn't it sound great. Insominaxe wind it back to bare bones rockabilly and throw a lashing of punk over their top with their frantic "Lookout". Black Flag's ironic "TV Party" gets a nod from The Scrags in "TV Messed Up Mind", while it doesn't get any scuzzier than "Grow Your Own" by Whores For War. Beautiful, brutal stuff. - THE BARMAN

 

VARIOUS ARTISTS: "DRINK. FIGHT. FUCK. VOLUME THREE" CD
Like Epitaph has done with pop punk, the Zodiac seems intent on trying to corner a corner of the punk playing field. An abundance (well, thirty-two tracks anyway) of sleazy rock and psychobilly stuff can be found here, courtesy of a number of "name" and lesser known bands, including the Hip Priests, the Loaded Nuns, Flat Tires, the Bible Beaters, Blag Dahlia (who turns in a quasi-hillbilly ditty endearingly entitled "Bitch I Love You"), Eddie Spaghetti, Candy Snatchers, GG Elvis, Antiseen, and tons more. Can't say I was down with everything here, but it is surprisingly consistent and some of it is flat-out good, which is pretty much all one can ask for, I guess. ALSO AVAILABLE ON DOUBLE LP WITH ONE "PUKE GREEN" COLORED LP AND ONE "PISS YELLOW" COLORED LP! - JIMMY ALVARADO - RAZORCAKE

 

VARIOUS ARTISTS: "DRINK. FIGHT. FUCK. VOLUME THREE" CD
What the fuck is this? Another goddamn CD compilation? Whoa, let's back up a minute and reholster those guns. I'll agree that most comp discs are complete wastes of time and effort on behalf of the bands involved, not to mention a complete waste of funds on the poor sap that plunks down his or her could-be beer money in what's almost always a loser's bet. Why is that? Perhaps it's that record labels usually get one or two "big-hitters" around which to center a comp, and then fill it with whatever tripe they can beg, borrow, or steal. None of it has to be good, it just has to take up space. You got a tape of your little sister playing a Casio while a dog barks in the background? Well, hell, if you'll let me use it in exchange for a copy of the completed disc (the thrill - the thrill - your name could be on a real, honest-to-god CD!), we'll call it "avante-punk" and away we go. Not to mention, most of the time, the big-hitter tracks are complete throwaway shit: a bad B-side, a track they didn't feel measured up to the rest of the material on an album, a live track that had too much feedback to be included on the real disc, a tape of the band fucking around for shits and giggles that was never meant for aural consumption...you know the routine. The label is banking on cobbling together something on the cheap that looks like you'll be getting a lot for your money (725 bands on one CD!). The bigger-name bands' completist fans will surely compensate for any numbers that the bang-for-buck ruse doesn't pull in. Oh, and let's not forget that they'll always give the other 723 bands copies to sell at shows and on their websites for the "wholesale rate" of about twice the price of whatever the label actually has in the disc. For unscrupulous record peddlers, of which there are many, it's a real no-brainer. Let's all thank our lucky stars that Ron Zodiac doesn't run his ship that way. In keeping with his apparent mission of being the most-productive and quality-oriented label on the planet, he gives us DRINK. FIGHT. FUCK. VOLUME THREE. This disc is 32 tunes (almost 80 minutes) of the finest punk and roll you're gonna lay your hands on for ten smackers. There's not a stinker in the bunch. Sure, you're gonna like some better than others, but I don't think you're going to be hitting the forward button on your disc player at all. That's the goddamn beauty of this DRINK. FIGHT. FUCK. series - instead of feeling like a big let-down that you have to force yourself to listen to, these discs bring back that feeling of being a teenage loser, riding around with your friends after dark in your beat up '76 Camaro, cruising for a place to crash for the night and drink some beers. What was the soundtrack to those nights? In my car, it was always cassette mix-tapes of whatever rock/punk/crazy shit we could get our hands on. Unlike today where we have the world at our fingertips via the internet, we had cheapo cassettes filled with duped tunes that we had hooked and crooked and bummed and bought with shit-job wages. They were more coveted than gold and were mourned like loved ones when they finally bit the dust, as is the fatalistic way of ye olde cassette tape. I remember tapes that went from The Ramones to The Stooges to The MC5 to The Cramps to Black Flag to Redd Kross to Zappa to Kiss to The Misfits to Buck Owens to The Stones to The Clash to The Circle Jerks to Circus of Power to the guy down the street's band to some tracks from a punk rock band you'd never heard of (and would probably never hear again) that happened to get a house show in a buddy's basement earlier in the year. We were fiends for the music and anytime one of us had gotten our mitts on enough new shit to present another tape to the altar of my car's cheapo K-mart tape deck, it was cause for celebration. New tunes! New tunes! New tunes! Our only qualification was that the tunes had to rock...and that's the prime attribute that binds the bands on Zodiac's impressive roster. The album kicks off with a grand opener in Holley 750's "Kill.Kill.Kill." Welcome to the party, crank it up. You'll be hitting third by track three when Sweden's own The Kill Company fucks your skull with "Fight That Man." I'd never heard of either of these bands before, but you can bet your sweet ass I've read up on 'em since hearing this comp. That's another great thing about this disc; it'll make you seek out the rawk, just like back in them days when you'd hear a tune on one of your friend's blank tape specials, and you'd ask who it was then immediately start trying to find everything you possibly could about whoever that happened to be. Hell, since spinning this platter, I've been online listening to stuff by all kinds of bands I'd never heard of before: The Broadsiders, Super Sexy Boy 1986, The Torpedo Monkeys, and Truckstop Lovechild to name but a few. This shit turned me on and turned me out, daddy. You'll get some vintage Candy Snatchers ("Doin Time"), the country side of The Supersuckers' Eddie Spaghetti ("Killer Weed"), and Blag Dahlia of The Dwarves sounding like he was one of the Sun Record Company's bad boy stars that got away ("Bitch, I Love You"). You'll also get the thrill of hearing ANTiSEEN belt out one mean-assed cover of the Sex Pistols' "Belsen Was A Gas," and you will swear it was a lost classic from the Noise for the Sake of Noise sessions. Fuck no, it's a brand new recording! It's like the thrill of hearing them for the first time. Buzzcrusher delivers the goods with their classic anthem "Scoring Dope From Bikers," one of the best-named punk tunes ever. Mississippi's own Before I Hang go on a trailer park shooting spree looking for "Targets," while Ohio's The Bible Beaters contribute their own Dead Sea Scroll of sorts with the lost tale of how "Jesus Invented Beer." Female/male trade off vocals usually fall-flat in the rock ouvre (with the notable exception of X), but The Bible Beaters nail it straight to a goddamn cross in their own special, sloppy, ass-kicking way. This CD will cure what ails you in this age of bland drek masquerading as rock and roll. Tired of hearing west-coast weirdos and corn-belt crooners hick-out their voices in poor attempts at country twang? Try on The Flat Tires, where the twang is as natural as the Carolina hills they terrorize on weekend nights; it drips off your speakers like mountain dew (and I ain't talking soft drinks). Tired of milquetoast guitar noodlings stinking up the place and killing your buzz? Smoke out to "Grow Your Own" from Whores for War, and let Sir Tom Hughes show you exactly what they make those fucking Gibsons for. And the final track,"Who Put the Methamphetamine in Mr. Everything?" by Royce Cracker, is some wonderfully fucked-up tuneage that assumes its rightful place in closing the night's festivities, much like something by The Butthole Surfers might have capped the evening way back when. In the interest of full-disclosure, I'll tell you my old band is on this compilation, but that's not why I'm giving it such grandiose treatment. Hell, I'm just happy we were considered worthy of being involved (and this coming from a guy who swore to god he'd never be part of another compilation disc unless it was a tribute to The Plum Hollow Band). This is available as a CD or a slicker-than-owl-shit limited edition double-vinyl version (one disc yellow and the other green). Most folks opt for the convenience of a disc, but you could always take a stroll down memory lane; just hop in your Camaro, hit the K-mart for some blank Maxells and dupe the vinyl over to cassette for your on-the-go enjoyment. The line for DRINK. FIGHT. FUCK. VOLUME FOUR starts behind me. 4 outta 5 stars. - ALAN KING - RATPUDDING.BLOGSPOT.COM


29TH STREET DISCIPLES SELF-TITLED CD
Denver has always struck me as a town surrounded by heart-stoppingly gorgeous natural beauty but without a heck of a lot going on (outside of David Eugene Edwards' various projects). Maybe I'm wrong - I haven't been there since I was 12 - but it seems like just the right environment to produce a band like the 29th Street Disciples. This record is 30 minutes of angst, anger and adrenalin, the kind of response to boredom that always erupts from the combination of torpor (Sweet Torpor, in this case) and electric guitars. Unfortunately, the band hasn't developed much sense of melody yet, and the singer prefers a firing-on-20-cylinders bawl over anything approaching dynamics, all of which gives the album a monotonous feel. I suspect the stage, where energy + volume trumps all, is the 29th Street Disciples' most appropriate forum. - MICHAEL TOLAND - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM


29TH STREET DISCIPLES SELF-TITLED CD
We've had a burned copy of this for a minute, but we forgot just how utterly kick-ass it is. Needless to say, when the new, pressed, Zodiak Killer version came across our desk this afternoon, we got a refresher, and all we can say is holy fuck, man! Sounding like the wayward, amphetamine-addled offspring of the almighty Fluid (and thereby the distant hellion descendants of the Stooges), the 29th Street Disciples throw a blanket party in broad daylight for all would-be punk pretenders and also-rans, only instead of bars of soap, these cats substitute D-sized batteries for maximum bruising and indentation. And this hot piece of, er, plastic (can't wait to hear this on vinyl) was recorded at Uneven Studios by Bryan Feuchtinger, so you know it sounds killer, too. Trust us -- these dudes are the motherfuckers. Go ahead and check out "Saturday Night Stand" after the jump and see if you disagree. - DAVE HERRERA - MP3 FREELOADER

 

29TH STREET DISCIPLES SELF-TITLED CD
While their name might sound like that of a shopping-mall religious cult, the 29th Street Disciples (due at Monkey Mania this Friday, November 16) are actually one of Denver's fastest, hardest and loudest punk bands. With righteous indignation and seething disdain, vocalist Ben Roy - who, oddly enough, can also be seen doing standup comedy around town - rages against machines and phonies while guitarist Eli Molyneux and drummer Justin Carlson provide a hurtling, relentless musical foundation of boot-to-the-face hardcore that borrows from the blistering traditions of late-'80s Chicago and New York. The brutal outfit's secret weapon, however, is nimble bassist Tim Erwin. Deftly and deafeningly fingering his five-stringed low-end beast, Erwin brings together jazz finesse and metal brawn for a sound that is as virtuosic as it is visceral. Throw his bass lines together with the reckless energy of Molyneux and Carlson, add Roy's blunt-force bluster, and the result is about as far from mall punk as you can get. - MICHAEL TOLAND - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM

 

29TH STREET DISCIPLES - SELF-TITLED CD
It's hard to think straight when you're pissed off—which is exactly why 29th Street Disciples' self-titled debut is so fucking horrifying. The Denver band is angry, no doubt, but there's a sharp, methodical intelligence to its attack. Like a brain surgeon turned axe-murderer, guitarist Eli Molyneux chews through guttural riffs with brutal grace, and frontman Ben Roy—better known as one of Colorado's funniest, least compromising standup comics—spits cold venom through bloody teeth. The disc's dozen songs manage to mutate, rewire, or just completely deconstruct the four-on-the-floor punk formula, flaunting the kind of off-kilter rock 'n' roll calculus exercised by Hot Snakes or The Bronx. It isn't all menace and fury, though. On the album's closer, "The Reason," the groups indulges in an almost dub-soaked breakdown that rattles the nerves and chills the soul in a way Refused or even Fugazi might have approved of. Wild animals you can either outwit or shoot; 29th Street Disciples, on the other hand, isn't the type of beast that goes down that easy. - JASON HELLER - DECIDER

 

29TH STREET DISCIPLES SELF-TITLED CD
Many people don’t realize that Denver has had a large punk scene for a very long time. One of the current leaders of the D-Town pack, 29TH Street Disciples, have created a real bit of fried gold with their self-titled debut. With a hard and heavy sound that calls to mind THE BRONX and early REFUSED, the 29TH STREET DISCIPLES are aggressive and to the point. And they have surpassed the tinny, ready-to-implode sound produced by most hardcore brats. Regardless of his effectless, slightly one-dimensional guitar work, guitarist Eli Molyneux doesn’t just play loud and fast. He adds a metal-tinged heaviness that results in a full, palpable sound. Bassist Tim Erwin plays with a technical prowess and subtle melodicism that stand out without being obtrusive, blending with Justin Carlson’s relentlessly energetic drumming. All of the tracks do sound a bit similar. But that isn’t necessarily a bad thing when they’re all stand-up tracks. - CHARLES O’MARA - UNIV OF COLORADO ADVOCATE NEWSPAPER

 

29TH STREET DISCIPLES SELF-TITLED CD
Street punky, but not in some sort of lame re-hashed fashion that's so easy to replicate but so hard to pull off with satisfaction. This record was quite enjoyable for me. It's tough and aggressive but musical, as if around 1966 John Lennon hadn't forgot what a hard-nosed punk he had been only a few years earlier. Yes, this is one of those "make me want to bellow" records, but the difference is that there's a musical edge to the 29TH Street Disciples that isn't often fond in rock' n' roll of this genre. While they're riding that razor's edge between cliched and classic sound, in the process they inject some unexpected hooks and melodies that create a fresh version of a sound long familiar. - THE LORD KVELDULR - RAZORCAKE

 

29TH STREET DISCIPLES SELF-TITLED CD
At the four second mark of the first tune, I looked at the back of this to see if it was a Zodiac Killer release and, sure enough, it was. As has come to be expected from that label, this is loud, raucous rock/punk stuff sure to tickle the fancy of anyone who thinks bands like Speeddealer, Zeke, or the like are nifty. - JIMMY ALVARADO - RAZORCAKE


BILLY JOE WINGHEAD "DARK RIDE" CD
I had no idea these Oklahoma knuckleheads were still around, but I shouldn't be surprised - Billy Joe Winghead has "bad penny" status stamped on its collective forehead. And thank the white trash crunchbilly gods for that. Admittedly, there's no shortage of this kind of C&W devil crunge (see: Nine Pound Hammer, Dash Rip Rock on a good night), but few hellspawn have the same savoir faire as the Wingheads do on Dark Ride. Science Fiction Double Feature pays tribute to geek rockers everywhere, Refrigerated Air locates the oh-so-sweet spot betwixt chicken-pickin', grunge and ZZ Top boogie, Untitled saunters down Santo & Johnny territory without being an outright homage and anthems Poor Penny Carson and You're Going to Hell inject shots of, dare it be said, tenderness into the band's usual snotrock & roll. The most head-spinning moments are covers of the Four Seasons' Rag Doll and Roy Orbison's Running Scared that, while putting the melodies through the BJW ringer, are shockingly faithful to the songs' yearning spirits. If you're a longtime fan, have no fear - there's plenty of the usual Okie nutball metal on hand, as you might expect from songs titled Shitpipe Minnie, Porno King and Your Friend Jesus. On Dark Ride, Billy Joe Winghead evolves while staying true to its original ideals - a neat trick that not every band can pull off as well as this. I couldn't find an online shot of the album cover to save my soul, so please enjoy what appears to be an ancient publicity snap instead. - MICHAEL TOLAND - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM

 

BILLY JOE WINGHEAD "DARK RIDE" CD
The more or less straight-ahead cover of "Science Fiction Double Feature" at the end stands out like a sore thumb after the thirteen tracks of drugged-out, amped-up, Theremin-wielding, bluesy psychosis that preceded it. This is a fairly minor criticism, though, 'cause, truth be told, they had me on their side at the first tune, with it's chorus of "Your friend Jesus ain't no motherfuckin' friend of mine...take your little book and hit the motherfuckin' highway." And yes, dear friends, the Theremin was definitely abused during the course of this recording. - JIMMY ALVARADO - RAZORCAKE

 

BILLY JOE WINGHEAD "DARK RIDE" CD
If Chuck Berry suffered severe brain damage (I mean, more so than usual) and decided to become Nine Pound Hammer, then decided ((via split-personality band vote)) to channel the spirit of GG Allin in some sort of a Darrin Rafaelli role, then wiped his ass with a Bible ((and since he's Chuck Berry, videotaped that part of it)), the result may, in fact, yield similiar results to that of Billy Joe Winghead. I know not what flags Winghead Nation swears fealty to, but the album's leadoff track, "Your Friend Jesus," is such an exhilarating, blasphemous stomp that I am virtually certain all other flags, galaxy-wide, are now little but smoldering ash and flaming urine stains. Later in the album, the band finds God and cuts a straight-up Four Seasons cover. One way or the other, Jesus wept. BEST SONG:"Your Friend Jesus" BEST SONG TITLE:"I'd hate to say "Shitpipe Minnie", but they're just that kinda band. FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: If you buy four McDonald's Filet-O-Fish sandwiches during lent, it comes up to $6.66. - REVEREND NORB - RAZORCAKE


WEREVILSDARE "FULL MOON FURY" CD
Imagine some black metal guitarist moonlighting in a lycanthrope-fixated garage rock band and you've got this bizarrely named Pennsylvania quintet. With buzzsaw guitar grunge that sounds like it was recorded in an abandoned refrigerator, butter tub drumming and vocals like Lemmy on a rockabilly bender, Full Moon Fury is all splatter, no flatter. Ya gotcher horror flick obsession (The Dead Zone, Return of the Living Dead, Scream Queens), yer general horror aesthetic (Sometimes They Come Back, Forgotten & Dead, Satanik a Go-Go) and, natch, yer werewolf envy (Cycle of the Wolf, American Werewolf, the title track). My personal pick to click (the remote) is Race With the Devil, which builds up such maniacal dragstrip mayhem I actually believe the band has been in the titular contest. An unholy hybrid of the Misfits, the Cramps, the Fuzztones and Guitar Wolf, Werevilsdare does gonzo macabrock right. - MICHAEL TOLAND - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM

 

WEREVILSDARE "FULL MOON FURY" CD
The cheesy front cover art shows a cigarette-smoking, leather jacket-wearing greaser turning into a werewolf. The back cover shows that werewolf sneaking off into the night carrying a buxom, tattooed redhead. Oh, and the wolf is wearing a Danzig shirt under his jacket. What do you think this album sounds like? That’s exactly what it sounds like. Growled horror punk‘n’roll. What’s particularly impressive is that they know exactly how backup vocals are supposed to sound for this type of music: like the howl of wolves echoing out of a canyon at night. This has just the right amount of swagger for blasting from a boombox under a full moon while smashing bottles in a parking lot. - MP JOHNSON - RAZORCAKE


ELECTRIC FRANKENSTEIN "HIGH VOLTAGE ROCK'N'ROLL" CD
Electric Frankenstein is a name I have not heard since back in the day when Victory Records was still good and put out those fantastic Victory Style compilations. Most of the artists that appeared on those discs were hardcore and heavy. Usually they were good for a new Strife, Earth Crisis, and Hatebreed song. But there were always two bands that stuck out like a sore thumb (hey that was another band on the comps too) and they were the Honky-Tonk Swing act Hi-Fi & The Roadburners; the other being New Jersey’s Electric Frankenstein. Back on the Victory comps the music was as about as straight forward as you could get. The band described their sound as High Energy Punk Rock & Roll and I’ll agree with them in that being the perfect description. Much hasn’t changed in the nearly 11 years since the last time I really heard from them. The band has put out 7 albums since 1999’s How To Make A Monster as well as countless amounts of splits and EPs. With each outing the band has struck very true to their form and has done very little, if nothing at all, to sway from their signature sound. High Voltage Rock N' Roll – The Best Of Electric Frankenstein has given me the perfect reintroduction to the band and has simultaneously allowed me to catch up on what these Jersey boys have been doing since the last time we met. What’s great about this record is that it literally contains atleast one song from each of their full length releases. It even contains a song from some of the splits they did and an AC/DC cover. After finishing this record, I have gained a much better appreciation for Electric Frankenstein. It’s almost safe to call them the AC/DC of punk. They have a very simple sound which blends garage punk in vain of The Misfits, Dead Boys, and The Ramones in with some of that pure Rock & Roll like The Stooges, MC5, and Kiss. It’s simple but it works. Instead of tweaking it and ruining what they have going for them, Electric Frankenstein kept forging along they path they chose. Each song is nothing but a good time and I’ve quickly found myself singing the majority of the record. This record comes highly recommended for anyone like me that felt out of touch with this band once the Victory Style comps stopped being good. You get a complete look at their entire discography full of raw-powered punk with insanely catch guitar hooks with matching singalongs. I have a renewed interest in the band and can’t wait to check out some of their albums. - WREN - STEREOKILLER.COM

 

ELECTRIC FRANKENSTEIN "BURN BRIGHT, BURN FAST" CD
Consider this more of a public service announcement than a review. Burn Bright, Burn Fast originally came out in 2005 on another record label. It either fell out of print or the ever-upright boys in EF didn't like something on the business side and took their toys elsewhere. Whatever - the disk is back and record store shelves are all the richer for it. If you missed this album the first time around, you missed an energy-spewing, power rocking, ass-burning set of punk & roll that takes everything good about Electric Frankenstein and splatters it across the universe for all to witness. Just as awesome the second time around. - MICHAEL TOLAND - SONIC RUIN ZINE


BEFORE I HANG "MISSISSIPPI" CD
Fuck! you fucks have read about the attributes of Hattiesburg, Mississippi's favorite sons BEFORE I HANG from me before!! Chris, Walt and their cohorts stole the show on the first night of the ANTISEEN Twenty-fifth Anniversary in Charlotte, North Carolina this year!! If you reach back six months you encounter the raging BEFORE I HANG CD entitled MISSISSIPPI on ZODIAC KILLER RECORDS. This shit just gets more manic as the songs unfold. You are treated to three stunning souther scum rock blasts "PUT YOU OUT OF MY MISERY", "PLEASED ME THE MOST," and "MORE FUN." Then you hit the brick wall BEFORE I HANG number, "ROCK N ROLL TRAGEDY." This shit will make the short hairs on your neck stand up! There will be no turning back from this scorching ROCK N ROLL!! In "ROCK N ROLL TRAGEDY" the band sings "There will be no winners in this game"-this is devastating rock n roll of the highest order! Walt plays guitar as if possessed by Satan! You will crash through "BLOW UP THE WORLD" where BEFORE I HANG sings: "I hate everybody/ I hate dogs with rabies, roaches, rats/ and mothers with their babies." There's some positive sentiment for you fucks! Next up is "KISS MY SOUTHERN ASS" with a true blue pride in BEFORE I HANG'S native Mississippi! On the heels of "KISS MY SOUTHERN ASS" you wallow in the glory of "DIXIE PIG." This fine anthem celebrates the rewards of working hard in the day, and the accolades of the triumvirate-drink, fight, fuck- your goals for the evening! Those are the fruits of your labors! After you hear "TARGETS" you get the tunes "UPFRONT" and "FREONHEAD." We finish off in fine style with "(TAKIN IT TO THE) PAWNSHOP." This entire Mississippi CD is mandatory listening for you CONFEDERACY OF SCUM fans!! This material has Eric on vocals and he holds up his end of the job! Be prepared for new material with Chris singing soon! BEFORE I HANG will continue to grow as a major southern rock force that will shrivel your Yankee ball sack! Long live BEFORE I HANG! For the Mississippi CD contact: ZODIAC KILLER RECORDS, 1733 IRON MTN. RD. CHEYENNE WY. 82009 (ZODIACKILLERRECORDS.COM) And you punks keep your eyes peeled because ZODIAC KILLER RECORDS will be bringing you new product by the DWARVES, THE CANDY SNATCHERS, THE UTAH COUNTY SWILLERS, and more in the near future. - BRUCE ROEHRS MRR #309 FEBRUARY 2009


SILVER COCKS "HOLIDAY IN AUSCHWITZ" 7"
Solid. Imagine a really angry version of SHAM 69 and you've got it. - THE LORD KVELDUFR (RAZORCAKE #48)

 

SILVER COCKS "HOLIDAY IN AUSCHWITZ" 7"
This is some great shit. Italian punks.....fuck yeah! Three songs, all killer. Imagine if you will SHAM 69 falling into a bee's nest. Angry and fast with atypical vocals, kind of singy-shreiky style, but without annoying you or making you flip to something else. The singer, Nani, wears a loose neck tie, big sun glasses and white gloves on stage, an odd look for sure. Musically, they are quick and to the point, like the punk they used to make back in the glorious golden 80's. Production here is impressive, with beefy basslines pushed to the front of the mix. SILVER COCKS may not set the world on fire, but this compares highly to peers, and will keep you on the cusp of wanting more. Even the cover art is simple, with live shots of the band in B/W, very old school indeed. Look for even better things from these guys in the future. Send us a full-length! - MURTAUGH - PEACEDOGMAN.COM


THE CANDY SNATCHERS "DOIN' TIME/DEAD WRONG" 7"
I knew it wouldn't be long before we'd finally see some of the new songs from THE CANDY SNATCHERS, but that doesn't make it any easier for me to accept the passing of guitarist MATTHEW ODIETUS this past summer. It still breaks my heart. Seeing all these pictures of him on the cover and the record starting off with a ripping guitar riff doesn't help either. Both songs on this 7" are a bit more melodic than their usual style. It's a bit less frenetic, but the classic and inimitable CANDY SNATCHERS sound is here. "Doin' Time" is an atypical (anti-love?) song. It doesn't sound like anyone minds being in the relationship that much; he's just stating the facts that it's a mess. "Dead Wrong" laments the changing of musical styles, but with a shrug. The scene will mutate again for better or for worse. I bet these songs would be killer to hear live. Sigh. - CK (MRR #309 FEBRUARY)

 

THE CANDY SNATCHERS "DOIN' TIME/DEAD WRONG" 7"
Also on the Zodiac Killer Records label, we get this gorgeous (blue vinyl with white splotches) burst of garage punk terror from the legendary Candy Snatchers. What may be one of the last releases from these speed punk legends after the untimely death of Matthew Odietus, this slab is also offered in limited quantities and from what I understand, they're going fast. And they should be. The Candy Snatchers always specialized in a grimy, barely contained in the garage assault of low-fi punk and rudimentary playing at it's absolute best. Mixing a bizarre Cramps-esque quality to their sound, they sound almost like the unholy marriage of the Misfits and New Bomb Turks colliding heads over a feeding trough. Two tracks here find the gang plowing a trashcan rockabilly vibe into their cacophony. "Doin' Time," revs and rages like some speed freak Eddie Cochrane outtake complete with gorgeously ragged backing vocals and a guitar solo that could shatter glass. The boys seemed to have matured a bit since their early broken bottles and blood letting days, turning all that raging fire of energy into the song writing process and put out probably one of their most melodic, yet still rollicking performances. "Dead Wrong," follows suit, slithering along on the back of a solid rockabilly guitar riff and the manic clashing of tin cans, er, I mean drums. Dig that crazy harmonica solo rampaging through the middle! Another snotty burst of whiskey induced punkabilly to stand with the best of em. Truly a beautiful package, and as I said, available only in limited numbers. So if these are your sounds of destruction, jump into the fire. You won't regret it. - THE RIPPLE EFFECT - RIPPLEMUSIC.BLOGSPOT.COM


LUXURY PUSHERS "WELCOME TO THE PARTY, TRAITOR " CD
From the first Van Halen-esque guitar run in "3 Minute Manifesto", to the knit-tight rhythm section in "Just In It For The Fuckin", the Pushers are an instant favorite here at the TCE office. The Dayton, Ohio four piece formed from the ashes of several local glam/punk/rock bands primarily the Mystery Addicts who made it into a couple underground compilation before releasing their one and only LP Unluck and Shame. Jamy Holliday brought his guitar over to Eric Purtle's place and the two started writing punked-up Stones songs, got Chris Wright to shred some mean and nasty solos and sat Mystery Addicts drummer Bryan LaBonte on the stool to pound out some intensely heavy tom-toms. After a couple years they were superstars of the local bar circuit. The band's 2003 EP "Eat It" was used in its entirety for director Guy Capo's adult feature "Sex, Drugs, and Rock Roll" and garnered a 2004 AVN-award nomination for Best Soundtrack. The evolution has continued to build like a half-shot van with suspect brakes descending down the steepest of grades. The collision has sent sparks flying with the release of "Welcome to the Party, Traitor." The band fend off the usual references to the The Dead Boys, the New York Dolls, the Hellacopters, etc. This sort of thing is inevitable when you attempt to encapsulate everything that's currently right about rock 'n' roll. Double-barrel guitars hurl through the mega anthem "Lil-A-Bomb", putting a righteous swagger into the band's post-trash American punk. Songs like "Make It Up As You Go", the addicting "Just Like Faye Dunaway" and "Strictly Low Rent" capture the boys snarling attitude as they spit and shake with volcanic bursts of rock and roll eruptions. Think old school Hanoi Rocks, Back On The Juice-era Dog's D'Amore with the Backyard Babies salute to the almighty riff. My favorite "On The Mend", is a speed demon with a kick in the teeth at warp drive - complete with a handy chorus and vocals straight from the State Penitentiary. A five-star if there ever was one. - TK'S CUTTING EDGE

 

LUXURY PUSHERS "WELCOME TO THE PARTY, TRAITOR" CD - Cocky street-rock, unlike anything else goin' on, in the mid-west. Luxury Pushers got way more in common with the harder-dged punk'n'roll from the Coasts, like say, Electric Frankenstein, or Scott "Deluxe" Drake's latest solo album on Rank Outsider Records, than they do with anything happenin' in their home state, the birth-place of the Pagans, and the Deadboys. Dayton, Ohio's resident glamour-punk, Jamie Holiday, has been corrupting the youth of Dayton since the late-80's in bands like Haunting Souls, and Mystery Addicts. He's gotta be in his forties by now, but he could easily pass for a twenty something, tattooed, emo-kid. While I can see how the "Loud, Fast Rules" punk-rock crowd's already embracing these guys, I suspect they'll also have alot of cross-over appeal with the sleaze-rock set. A heavy punk group for fans of gutter-glam like Vains Of Jenna, Lethal Fixx, Innocent Rosie, Dirty Penny, and Crash-Diet. This is a great sounding CD that packs a punch. Holiday and co. are putting the punk back into glamour punk. Luxury Pushers are comprised of several songwriters, but it definitely seems like I can appreciate Holiday's compositions like, "Just In It For The Fucking", and "Just Like Faye Dunaway", the most. I think these cats are goin' places, watch for 'em! Holiday has all the right stuff for rock stardom. Had Gilbey Clarke and Tommy Lee chosen him to front that TV rockgroup, instead of that Lucas Rossi Hot-Topic kid, maybe that band really could have gone super-nova. Good stuff. I fully expect these guys to blow-up big, on the strength of this audacious debut. More power to 'em! - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM


DISGUSTER/HITCHHIKERS SPLIT CD
If you're looking for a real rock n' roll rush, that kind of breathless adrenaline high that only really fuckin' spot-on, bad-ass, punch-the-wall rock can give you, than you are in luck. The fine fiends at Zodiac Killer records have paired two of the hottest sleaze-punk sensations currently residing on this or any other puny planet on a scorching split CD that will have you robbing liquor stores and impregnating porn stars by tomorrow morning. Fullerton, California's Disguster are like the Backyard Babies without all the Def Leppard bullshit, a swaggering glam-punk assault on the senses that's fast and mean and at least half-crazy. The Hitchhikers...well, these motherfuckers are ex-Humpers, which should tell you all you need to know. Bruising punk with a junk-rock twist and 10,000 miles of bad road to wander. The Hitch tracks include original demos from 2003 and new shit, as well. The Disguster stuff is so fresh it's still steaming. In the grand tradition of incestuous West Coast punk, there's at least one Disguster in the Hitchhikers, and who knows what they're sharing backstage, so the two bands complement each other nicely. This is the most accomplished collection of low-down dirt-rock I've heard in ages, and I recommend it without hesitation. If I could somehow force you to buy it, I fuckin' would. - KEN - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM

 

DISGUSTER/HITCHHIKERS - SPLIT CD
This is a split CD from two really good Rock N' Roll bands! I actually forgot that this was a split when I first listened to it, but then I looked at the track listing, and the songs alternate between bands. I didn't even notice! I guess that means that DISGUSTER and HITCHHIKERS are a good fit for a split. Both play chunky rock n' roll full of hooks that keeps my foot tapping to the music. This is just chaotic enough to be energetic, but not so out of control that it's spastic and loses it's catchiness. it reminds me of a lot of the bands from the late '90's that were coming out on JUNK and ESTRUS such as THE WEAKLINGS or THE DRAGONS or THE NEW BOMB TURKS. I like it! - ML (MRR #309 FEBRUARY 200)

 

DISGUSTER "NOT SO SWEET" CD
To say that the songs on this album are "Not So Sweet" is a gross understatement given the lyrical subject matter which ranges from voyeurism to extreme drug use, orgies, and sadistic sexual escapades. In other words to appreciate this band one must have a pretty sick sense of humor and it doesn�t hurt if you�re a fan of sleazy Punk / rock n roll like the Dead Boys, Rose Tattoo, the Dwarves, or Turbonegro. However if any or all of that stuff is your bag you will surely find that Disguster deliver. While some of their past recordings did not fully represent the band�s potential, "Not So Sweet" shows Disguster fully coming into their own. And while it is completely true that this band excels at delivering an all out rock n roll attack, the songs that stick out the most are the ones that show off their more poppy side like "Drugs" and "My Kick" which are bound to get stuck in your head. Regretably my car stereo ate my copy of this C.D. but I don�t think that I coud ever forget a song like "Six Way" which invites female fans to get initiated by the band in the worst way possible. My best recommendation is that you listen to this C.D. but stay away from Disguster�s van. - DITCH - BIG WHEEL ONLINE MAGAZINE

 

DISGUSTER "NOT SO SWEET" CD
The hit here is "Bloodbath", with it's catchy chorus and vaguely Stones-gone-punk feel. The rest is all rock'n'punk swagger executed well enough to warrant more than one spin. - JIMMY ALVARADO - RAZORCAKE

 


THE HITCHHIKERS "INTELLECTUAL PROPERTIES OF THE MINIMAL MIND" CD
Hitchhikers singer/bassist Mitch Cartwright used to be in the Humpers, and it probably goes without saying that this particular apple didn't fall far from the tree. Intellectual Properties of the Minimal Mind spits out snotty punk & roll fireballs like a dragon with acid reflux, sparing no one, least of all itself. "10 Days On the Road," "Nothinmatron" and "Somethin' for Nothin'" rock furiously and bitch mightily, as classic a combo as a Les Paul and a Marshall Stack. The quartet occasionally takes time out for a pop song like "On the Phone," but it ain't pop as Maroon 5 knows it, with the sneering lines "Did you really think you could make it without me/So sad to hear you crying on the phone." Bad attitude + killer riffs + freight train drive - as the song says, "That's Rock N' Roll." - MICHAEL TOLAND - SONIC RUIN

 

THE HITCHHIKERS DEMO CD
Ex-Bleeder/Humper Mitch Cartwright has been out and about with this new band of his for some time now and I gotta admit, it's actually pretty fucking cool to see him fronting his band, The Hitchhikers. Included in the fold is Steve "Stingy Brim" Spills (ex-Neurotones) and Eric (also an ex-Bleeder) on guitars. Pimp-slapping the kit is Marty (ex-He's Dead Jim) and ya got Mitch pulling vocal duties while workin' the bass gitter. How do they sound? Think of The Humpers showing The Supersuckers how it's done, and with this demo, there's some really cruisin' rock and roll that thuds the back of yer ribcage, leaving a faint, sickening feeling in the pit of the stomach, unlike getting kicked in the nerts. Yep, it's that good, fuckface, so save yourself the drunken, fist-swinging arguments amongst you and your dumbass friends and visit their website. As of now, their full-length has yet to come out, but logging onto their site will give you a chance to hear these tunes for yourself. Your animal porn site's not going anywhere, so what's your excuse? Just do it, you sick fuck. - DESIGNATED DALE - RAZORCAKE

 

DISGUSTER/HITCHHIKERS SPLIT CD
If you're looking for a real rock n' roll rush, that kind of breathless adrenaline high that only really fuckin' spot-on, bad-ass, punch-the-wall rock can give you, than you are in luck. The fine fiends at Zodiac Killer records have paired two of the hottest sleaze-punk sensations currently residing on this or any other puny planet on a scorching split CD that will have you robbing liquor stores and impregnating porn stars by tomorrow morning. Fullerton, California's Disguster are like the Backyard Babies without all the Def Leppard bullshit, a swaggering glam-punk assault on the senses that's fast and mean and at least half-crazy. The Hitchhikers...well, these motherfuckers are ex-Humpers, which should tell you all you need to know. Bruising punk with a junk-rock twist and 10,000 miles of bad road to wander. The Hitch tracks include original demos from 2003 and new shit, as well. The Disguster stuff is so fresh it's still steaming. In the grand tradition of incestuous West Coast punk, there's at least one Disguster in the Hitchhikers, and who knows what they're sharing backstage, so the two bands complement each other nicely. This is the most accomplished collection of low-down dirt-rock I've heard in ages, and I recommend it without hesitation. If I could somehow force you to buy it, I fuckin' would. - KEN - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM

 

DISGUSTER/HITCHHIKERS - SPLIT CD
This is a split CD from two really good Rock N' Roll bands! I actually forgot that this was a split when I first listened to it, but then I looked at the track listing, and the songs alternate between bands. I didn't even notice! I guess that means that DISGUSTER and HITCHHIKERS are a good fit for a split. Both play chunky rock n' roll full of hooks that keeps my foot tapping to the music. This is just chaotic enough to be energetic, but not so out of control that it's spastic and loses it's catchiness. it reminds me of a lot of the bands from the late '90's that were coming out on JUNK and ESTRUS such as THE WEAKLINGS or THE DRAGONS or THE NEW BOMB TURKS. I like it! - ML (MRR #309 FEBRUARY 200)

 


THE TORPEDO MONKEYS "LUNCHTIME WITH THE TORPEDO MONKEYS" CD
Germany's Torpedo Monkeys are a testament to the punk rock underground's continued fascination with the Cramps. Lunchtime With is punk-injected ‘billy in the old-fashioned style, before the so-called "psychobilly" movement infected the genre with bad Misfits imitations. Lead howler Little Lance Link isn't as gonzoid as Lux Interior (no one is, of course), but he's got personality out the yin-yang, and the pack bangs away behind him with the right mixture of frenzy and panache. And any band that names songs "The Day They Melt My Face," "Same Room, Different Teeth" and "Shim Sham Chimpanzee" has got somedamnthing goin' on. - MICHAEL TOLAND - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM

 

THE TORPEDO MONKEYS "LUNCHTIME WITH THE TORPEDO MONKEYS" CD
A monkey-masked band from Germany whose main influence is THE CRAMPS. It's Rockabilly-ish rock n' roll. And in case you didn't get it while listening to the rest of the CD, the bonus tracks include a cover of THE CRAMPS "Like a Bad Girl Should." Inexplicably, the band also does an odd lounge-ey cover of THE DEAD KENNEDYS' "Let's Lynch the Landlord." It sure is funny when those lyrics are sung all slow and stuff. - CK (MRR #309 FEBRUARY 2009)

 

THE TORPEDO MONKEYS "LUNCHTIME WITH THE TORPEDO MONEYS" CD
That Germany's Torpedo Monkeys want to be the Cramps is obvious. They even cover "Like a Bad Girl Should" on this 15-tracker, just to rub it in. The Torpedo Monkeys also sound like more fun than a soupbowl full of sea monkeys at the end of a 10-day hunger strike when you're armed with a tea strainer instead of a spoon. In other words, the crunchy bits are there and palatable. Word is the Mummies reformed for a tour of Spain last week with only two original members, but no-one was the wiser. If Germany's Torpedo Monkeys broke up and re-convened they'd be in the same boat since the whole band plays in Planet of the Apes masks. That's either a way to be noticed or to remain anonymous in case of legal action by the Cramps. Speaking of, Lux Interior tragically shuffled off this mortal coil only the day after this disc was blasting on the sound system. No sense in reading anything into that coincidence, but it prompted the thought that if he didn't like The Torpedo Monkeys he'd surely give the thumbs up to their record collections as there'd be a lot of crossover. Greasy and grimy to the point of sounding in dire need of an oil change, these Monkeys strut, spew reverb and roll around on the floor in a glorious mess of noise. Vocalist Little Lance Link declaims as all good rock and roll preachers should, guitarist Jessy D Monkey dishes out chunky, wholesome chordage and the engine room of Baron Von Valuum (bass) and Papa Kong (drums) clatters and rattles along like a Hamburg tourist bus on its last legs. The Baron gets to lead the rest of the tribe from the front in "Shim Sham Chimpanzee" and shows himself to be an adept player, if you can use descriptors like that in Garage Band Land. "I Was a Cannibal For The FBI" is the song the Cramps should have recorded before Lux checked out. The spaghetti-tinged semi-instrumental "El Hombre Loco" shows the Monkeys aren't just a bunch of hell-for-leather skronk artists. A trio of covers is appended as bonus tracks and The Torpedo Monkeys' swinging treatment of the Dead Kennedy's "Let's Lynch The Landlord" is fairly cool. No prizes for guessing that the closing squawk of "Chicken" would probably serve the same purpose in the live setting. Proof the Germans do have a sense of humour. - THE BARMAN


BRAINERD "ANIMAL MOTHER" CD
Brainerd is from Wisconsin, has a cover shot of a naked woman covered in some milky liquid and, in lieu of liner notes, pix of the members dead from various violent means. That says a lot right there, I suspect, but in case that's not enough, there are crusty power riffers like The Legion (of Super Whores, that is), Jesus (the libretto of which is pretty much someone screaming his name over and over) and Deb Lee (a twisted sea shanty set to a stoner rock groove). There's even a cover of the band's homeslice Killdozer ("Ed Gein," natch), though Brainerd is a lot more tuneful than those guys. It almost comes across as an art project, but the group is obviously a lot more interested in farts than art - nothing sounds pre-planned or too thought out. File under "unselfconscious slimy crunge" and wash your hands afterward. - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM

 

BRAINERD "ANIMAL MOTHER" CD
Brainerd has an ambiguous style. Animal Mother opens with a blistering metal assault of tribal drum rhythms and heavy guitars. Singer Dieterich barks "Jesus!" repeatedly before the shouted chorus, "Can you smell the meat?" Repeat a few times and crank up the intensity and you have a powerful opening to this band's second album. They actually manage to take it up a notch with the next track, "Tabula Rasa." This song is energy in music form. The rhythm is tireless and hypnotic, like waves of the ocean, and the vocal melody only intensifies it effect. The death-metal vocals of the first track give way to spacey musings about "ghosts all around you." By the time "Deb Lee", the third song, kicks into "The tail of a honky-tonk wandering soul / Who traveled across the sea," it's apparent that Brainerd has a multifaceted personality. Don't get me wrong; they are always dark, usually bleak, and often tinged with cynical humor, but they run that attitude through its paces and after the momentum of the opening tracks, they switch seamlessly into their rock 'n' roll persona. "Deb Lee" is whimsical in a grouchy-pirate-drunk-in-a-bar sort of way. The song's AC/DC riffing and solos break up storytelling verses that build tension until the massive release that is the powerhouse, seemingly endless last half of the song. Brainerd transitions easily between metal and rock 'n' roll, mixing the two styles and attitudes smoothly and at will. On track four, "Underwater," they shift gears again. It's a sort of psychedelic alt-rock that is more toned down than previous tracks, but loses none of the momentum that has been established. The album maintains continuity without becoming repititious. The band has a core identity that is never lost even as they blend in elements of different styles. They smash back into the hard stuff again with "Legion." It's not a song about war or the occult, but a death-metal tirade aimed at an ex who's "packed full of diseases, packed full of lies." One can't help but notice a touch of mirth in Dietrich's voice, gruff though it may be, as he lists the ways his former lover is like "a legion of whores." Sick humor pervades the disc, but is not limited to the album's nine songs. Even the inside cover is a monument to the grotesque. Their band photos are not the usual stiff, uncomfortable snapshots of so many other bands. Each member is pictured in his own convincingly staged death scene, including drummer Kinzler's unfortunate passing by autoerotic asphyxiation. The enigmatic photo of the mysterious bearded man with the golden locks and the shining sword is another highlight, not to mention the red and dripping nude female on the cover whose face is ominously absent from the picture. Animal Mother starts with a track titled Jesus and ends with a track titled Sin, and theres plenty of morally reprehensible material, complex instrumental jamming, and smoldering sarcastic ideas filling the space between the two. Add that to the excellent production quality, and this demo kicks ass. - JOE PRICE - RICKS CAFE MAGAZINE

 

BRAINERD SELF-TITLED CD
Madison's favorite groove metal maniacs have gone through some personnel changes since the bruise-inducing Animal Mother, but no harm done, except to eardrums. Brainerd still smashes and slashes, turning otherwise would-be morbid meditations on Demon in the Night, Devil Star and Blood Money into Pazuzu's party anthems. If anything, the band's sense of melody has gotten sharper; there's no reason All Night Party (with its smoky organ lines) or Powerlines wouldn't fit perfectly on the radio between Soundgarden and Pantera. Of course, no matter how evil you think you are, life always comes back to whether or not you're gettin' any, and Hurt in a Skirt caps the album off nicely with a situation to which we all can relate, fanged hellbeasts or no. - MICHAEL TOLAND - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM


SUPERSUCKERS / HOOKED ON SOUTHERN SPEED SPLIT 10"

Supersuckers and HOSS sing mostly Christmas songs on this split 10" with a highly detailed, Christmas-themed gatefold cover by Baron Von Evil. Snap one up, quick-like---you'll be like a kid at, well, Christmas. Plus, on this first pressing, the label forgot to list the Baron--if there are future pressings, it's likely this will be corrected. Supersuckers:"Call it Christmas Time," "Good Night for My Drinkin'," HOSS: "Merry Christmas Dad," "Santa Loves Black Sabbath." Well done, ZKR. - JESSICA T. - RAZORCAKE

 

HOOKED ON SOUTHERN SPEED "NIGHTSNAKE" CD
Zodiac Killer has been around for some time now, and like labelmates BUZZCRUSHER, DWARVES, ELECTRIC FRANKENSTEIN, and the SUPERSUCKERS, Colorado's HOOKED ON SOUTHERN SPEED is another exemplar of meat-and-potatoes punk. Cock rock and thrash collide like there's no tomorrow on "Blood On Steel Strings" (complete with OZZY "Over The Mountain"/ DEEP PURPLE "Fireball" drum intro), "Goin To Jail", and "Truckin' For Jesus". The latter's line "I can hear God on my CB radio" just about says it all. "She's the queen of the silver dollar. I'm gonna make her holler", from "Miss Meat" may second the motion, but the most memorable line here for Yours Truly comes from "Loud Fast Rock 'N Roll": "Rock 'N Roll was reinvented by a man named Bonny Scott. He said if you wanna rock 'n roll it's a long way to the top. Gotta gimme some. Gotta hear me some. Loud fast rock 'n roll!" pretty much sums up the sentiment here. Needs more cowbell. "Cold Day In Heel" and "Wanna See Ya Tonight" also deliver. The guitars are loud and the vocals so over the top they make one think of KILLDOZER at the speed of MOTÖRHEAD.
HOSS owns. End of story. - HERRING - PEACEDOGMAN.COM

 

HOOKED ON SOUTHERN SPEED "NIGHTSNAKE" CD
I'd love to know how this bunch of hick metal hellbillies came up with the name Hooked On Southern Speed. Did they sit around thinking, "Ya know, the word hoss really oughta be an acronym - ya gotta stand for somethin', goldurnit." One thing's for certain - with a name like that, you know you ain't gettin' an album of sunshine pop arrangements of gospel hymns, dontcha? With a similar aesthetic to Nashville Pussy, minus the whiff of gimmickry, this trio wields its classic-rock-and-amphetamines riffs like blunt instruments, eschewing clever irony for straightforward statements of intent like High On Speed, Wanna See Ya Tonight and, naturally, Loud, Fast Rock ‘N' Roll. Of course, the debauchery has consequences - see Goin' to Jail (Well I'm goin' to jail/Got nobody to post my bail - sucks to be you, dude) and Cold Day in Hell (Beaten down, left for dead/Totally fucked in the head - ah, life in the butt rock trenches) - but it ain't enough to dissuade anyone here from practicing what Bon Scott (who the band credits for inventing rock & roll) preaches. Lucky for us. - MICHAEL TOLAND - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM

 

HOOKED ON SOUTHERN SPEED "NIGHTSNAKE" CD
I just got around to listening to Hooked on Southern Speed....my fucking mistake. This fucking band RULES! Pass the word on to those guys that Dave Copstabber has lost his shit listening to this CD. I have decided that I'm going to buy some fucking good methamphetamine and listen to this album like 20 times in a row. - DAVE - COPSTABBER


THE HIP PRIESTS / SONIC NEGROES "DOGFIGHT" SPLIT CD
It's the Sonic Negroes' presence that attracted me to Dogfight - Swedish action rock gets to me like cheeseburgers do to Kevin Smith. And the five tracks on their half of this disk are indeed brick-smashing examples of Nordic headbanger punk (especially Quagmire, The Grittiest Star and Watch Your Back). But that's to be expected; it's hardly revelatory. So it's Great Britain's Hip Priests that impress me here. They share a similar mindset as the Negroes - maybe a little more garage rocking and a little more dirty-minded, kicking off the disk with the inspirational manifesto Let's Get Fucked. According to these holy men, it's ok to Rip ‘em Off and be Shot to Hell in Breakneck Babylon, cuz, after all, She Loves It! Trashy power rock at its sleaziest - a real party starter (or ender.) - MICHAEL TOLAND - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM

 

HIP PRIESTS, THE / SONIC NEGROS "DOGFIGHT" SPLIT CD
Hip Priests: Loud rock’n’roll delivered with more than a dab of punk furor, much in line with the non-Discharge sounding stuff that was coming out of Scandinavia some years back. Sonic Negros: More of the same. On the whole, this was some mighty fine tuneage. - JIMMY ALVARADO - RAZORCAKE

 

THE HIP PRIESTS / SONIC NEGROES "DOGFIGHT" SPLIT CD
(Translated from German, thanx Flint)
Hank of Turbonegro and Lemmy from Motorhead meet. They say hi to each other, stop for a moment and start talking. Hank: "Lemmy, do you know the Hip Priests from England? They sound like us and Motörhead" Lemmy: "Really? Heard of a similar band called Sonic Negroes, they come from Sweden." Cut! Of course this encouter did never really happen! I don't think either, that Lemmy & Hank know about the existance of these 2 Bands. But for sure they'd be surprised if this split with it's 10 tracks would come their way. Hip Priests start with 5 songs, after this 5 Sonic Negroes Songs follow.This is extremely snotty played Turböhead or Motornegro along with a skilled shot of Dead Boys Attitude. Zero cheesy Rock and no pathetic guitar whining (or very few of it!). Well, looks like these boys got it down.


SONIC NEGROES "HONKY BASTARD BLUES" CD
Zodiac Killer Records is the home to some of the finest, trashiest, sloppiest punk chop that the world has ever seen, and the Sonic Negroes fit very comfortably on that list. Coming from Sweden, it should come as no surprise that they fuse a hefty dose of Hellacopters saliva to their already wet and greasy garage punk. Lo-fi and simple, few tracks captured my immediate attention like "Sonic Young Boy," did. Kicking off with the earth-mother of all garage riffs, it only takes a few seconds to realize that this ear destruction is special. Fuzzed and gruff, those opening guitar chords detonate into a TNT stack of raving grease-stained, whiskey inebriated, rock and roll. But listen closer and you'll hear more of what elevates the Sonic Negroes above the pack. Underneath that rhino-chugging guitar, drums and bass, we got ourselves some seriously funky, honky-tonk piano kicking away. Nice touch. The vocals are perfectly gruff and sung into an empty oil can to fill out the mood, and again, the boys know how to actually write a song with a damn catchy chorus and real sense of melody and dynamic. Dig the mid song breakdown back to the opening chords, then the explosive burst of a guitar solo before head-charging right back into that chorus. Honky Bastard Blues is the perfect name for this disc, which collects new tracks with cuts off their impossible to find 7" EP's. Everywhere through this disc you can feel the greasy spoon of an out of the way honky tonk truck stop bleeding underneath the garage abandon. "Teenage Waste" is a total burnout of drugs and adrenaline, while "Whips and Spurs" brings an almost Cramps-like undercurrent to their S&M fantasies. With most songs clocking in between 1 to 2 and a half minutes, you're unlikely to get bored. This is like a popper full of crank injected directly into your auditory cortex. A massive blast of fun, sure to get the party started or have them running for the exits. - THE RIPPLE EFFECT - RIPPLEMUSIC.BLOGSPOT.COM

 

SONIC NEGROES "HONKY BASTARD BLUES" CD
What is it about Scandinavia that produces so many ass-kicking power rock bands? I get that there's so little sunlight in the winter months that our friends in the frozen north have nothing better to do than hole up in the basement and practice, but that doesn't explain why so many of these musicians choose to bare their fangs and tattoos with the volume cranked to 12. At any rate, Sonic Negroes are the latest band of brigands picking up the reins from the dearly departed Hellacopters, Peepshows, Gluecifer, etc. Honky Bastard Blues has all the usual ingredients for this sort of thing: catchy songs, brawny riffs, a carnivorous vocalist, a drive like a runaway bus, brilliantly tangled English lyrics - you know the drill. Sure, you've heard it all before (especially if you read this site a lot), but it's done as well as anybody else has done, which invokes an automatic Go! response in someone like me. Maybe you, too. - MICHAEL TOLAND - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM

 

SONIC NEGROES "HONKY BASTARD BLUES" CD
Some bands stick to ya because they have a cool name and just the right look. That's the way it started with the NEGROES- and in light of US politics this ain't a bad way to go. The band hail from the very fertile soil of Sweden and join the ranks of the similar sounding Hellacopters, Electric Frankenstein and The Supersuckers. They play fall-down-drunk rock and droll with a hybrid of the MC5, Stooges and Sonic Rendezvous Band. Sure they kick you in the teeth with big chucks of high-octane guitar over a punishing back beat but it's the frantic piano that seals the deal. Sonic Young Boy, with it's fuzzy vocals, ând "Kicked Around's" blazing guitar and the bass rumbler "Evil Sweat" are a good place to start with the band's debut Honky Bastard Blues. There's plenty of Mooney Suzuki in "Thrill Kill", the double guitar layering of "Come On", and the th robbin g "Sweet Jayne". They feature the occasional hand clapping here and there which gives a nod to Detroit and then kicks you in the balls with a harmonica and tambourine in Uh-huh, Oh Yeah. Four bonus tracks are added with a tougher sound and raw, beefy guitars. Must be b-sides or outtakes but Liquid Inspiration is a break out hit. - TK'S CUTTING EDGE


THE BIBLE BEATERS SELF-TITLED CD
Allegedly dedicated warriors in the army of the Lord, Ohio's Bible Beaters sing the praises of the Almighty like they got their schoolin' in the good book from the bottom of a whiskey bottle. Maybe some good bud, too. And some mushrooms. The BBs treat countrified gospel the way the Cramps manhandle rockabilly, while the vocal, ahem, blend by guitarist Johnny Whisman and Ms. E McQuown has the reckless glory of prime X. The sentiments found in Fire On the River, Blood On the Cross and Rockin Out with Jesus might lead one to wonder how much of the impetus behind the songs is real. (Satan is real, after all, as the Louvin Brothers famously reminded us.) According to these guys, though, Jesus Invented Beer, when confronted with sin you should Stop, Drop and Rock N' Roll and there will certainly be No Assholes in Heaven. So cheeks are obviously getting some tongue action. Not that it really matters - this is a stone hoot, whether or not you or the band is god-fearing. - MICHAEL TOLAND - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM

 

THE BIBLE BEATERS SELF-TITLED CD
"Warning: This Album May Contain Material Inappropriate for Sinners, Degenerates, and Hussies." I loved this honky tonk rockabilly sound. Conway & Loretta don’t hold a candle to Johnny & Ms. E's golden duets. I was singing along to Jesus Invented Beer after my first listen. Track #9, Running to the River, nearly brought me to Salvation. The Bible Beaters approach is that effective. A lot of methed out truck driving Dave Dudley sounds, which is a compliment in the highest respect. The recording is excellent. This is some good shit, cheap bourbon whiskey and a tear in my shot glass. This album will help you discover yourself. Get this record! - JOE PEARSON - SMARTY PANTS

 

THE BIBLE BEATERS SELF-TITLED CD
Is this for real? Or is it satire? He's Always Watching starts off with a woman wailing about the Lord like a Southern Baptist Minister, or one of the crazy people I'd see on the NY subways sometimes. Then it kicks into a hokey song that even includes a kazoo lead?!? The liner notes in this CD profess that it is "the best gospel record ever", and it is pretty good I guess. At times it sounds like a warped JOHNNY CASH & JUNE CARTER!! Overall, the whole bible-beating shtick gets a little tiresome for a whole CD. However, it does conclude with a brilliant cover version of GG ALLIN'S "Don't Talk To Me", which has been given new lyrics and the title "Jesus Talks To Me," Like I said, brilliant! And by the way, I did figure out that this is satire. I hope. (HE'S STILL NOT SURE) - ML MRR #309 FEBRUARY 2009


THE PNEUMONIAS "CHEAP TRASH ROCKNROLL" CD
I had to laugh when i picked up this CD. Is this a reject from RIP OFF RECORDS or did the band just want to be on the label so bad, but couldn't be bothered to ask GREG LOWERY? The cover has that RIP OFF look, and the label is even called ZODIAC KILLER RECORDS. I mean c'mon. Fortunately, when I stopped judging this CD by it's cover and got it into the player I was pleasantly surprise. Yes, the RIP OFF influence is there, but fortunately, it's more of the early years. THE PNEUMONIAS take all that baggage and deliver a great punk record. Fats furious songs with stupid lyrics and the production is loud. A GOOD TIME. TOO BAD THE PURPLE ONION STILL ISN'T AROUND. - {CK} - MAXIMUM ROCKNROLL - #306 NOVEMBER 2008


IDOL LIPS "TOO MUCH FOR THE CITY" CD
OK...high-contrast images of the band on the cover? Check. Lots of pink and black? Check. Lots of dot patterns in the artwork? Check. Messy typewriter-style font? Check. Everything about this indicates it's gonna be straight-up punk rock n' roll without even putting the cd in the stereo...? Yep! No surprises here at all, from the prerequisite Johnny Thunders-esque guitar riffs to the names of the songs like "Kick Your Ass," "Messed Up," and "Rich Bitch." These nine songs all clock in at under two minutes on average, and are not groundbreaking by any means, but this is solid rock n' roll and I bet these guys from Italy would be a helluva lotta fun to see live! - {ML} - MAXIMUM ROCKNROLL - #306 NOVEMBER 2008

 

IDOL LIPS "TOO MUCH FOR THE CITY" CD
Wearing your heart on your sleeve is one thing. When it ends up on your neckties, all over your chest and weighing down your lapel jacket like a collection of war medals, it gets problematic. Or so I'm told. Despite the Heartbreakers fixation (who writes: "Catch 'Em While They're Still Alive" across the inside of their CD slick?) these Italian maniacs kick out some incendiary jams. The most salient things to be said about "Too Much For The City" are that (a.) it's all been done before and (b.) it ends just as it's slipping into top gear. You know the drill: Two guitars, bass and drums and a singer who sneers worse than your grand aunty when you stumble into the family reunion five hours late and reeking of hops. "Smell of Female" is not a Cramps tribute but a one-and-ahalf-minute volley of Dead Boys snarl. "Too Much For the City" is pulled along by rumbling bass and more firestorm guitars and "Kick Your Ass" does indeed apply a size 12 to the gluteus. Nothing subtle about the chorus but, hey, did "Really gonna punch you out" carry a tread softly when you got down to tin ticks? "Can't Take It (No More)" reminds me of Sonny Vincent. Idol LIps should be honoured. The words are sung in English but I still struggled to make them out. On that subject, it's all in the delivery of "Reeech Beeeach" - sorry "Ritch Bitch" - which had me sniggering. Production is uncredited but better than many Italian bands. Rock and roll's not exactly embraced in many parts of Europe and bands from its southern reaches often end up finding it hard to hook up with a decent studio. Enjoyable for what it is (that'd be old school New York punk with garlic pizza breath), this nine-track "album" clocks in at 16 minutes. I've been in car crashes that took longer than that but at least boredom doesn't set in. - THE BARMAN


SKINTIGHT JAGUARS "THE CURSE " CD
This is a wild little CD. Total MOTORHEAD worship combined with a heavy dose of straight-edge inspired song writing- I'm talking gang vocals and all. I also hear a lot of DEAD BOYS in this. This will get you circle pitting for sure! Pretty intense shit. Think BLOOD BROTHERS without the cocaine. Well, at least BURN PIANO ISLAND BURN-era BLOOD BROTHERS, AS I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THEY SOUND LIKE NOWADAYS. - {FS} - MAXIMUM ROCKNROLL - #306 NOVEMBER 2008

 

SKINTIGHT JAGUARS "THE CURSE" CD
Sounding like the Backyard Babies without the budget, Skintight Jaguars rawk with their nether regions exposed on The Curse. The singer's got that hot-young-couple-in-the-woods-pursued-by-werewolves (probably the ones from Dog Soldiers, given the band's UK origins) sound, like the producer was holding a flaming brand below his testicles and inching them closer and closer until he got it right. (That's assuming there was a producer, which, from the primitive sonics displayed here, probably wasn't the case.) The band rages appropriately behind him (maybe they're the werewolves) and the songs have surprisingly strong melodic backbones - almost power pop, even. Which leads to some of these tunes sounding a little too close to emo for my tastes, if your average emo boy had progressed beyond passive aggressive whining and into songs like Start the Fight and Kill You in Your Sleep. Same old story, I suppose - boys loves girl, girl won't put out, boy wants to smash everything in sight to bits. Favorite song title: Joey Ramone Won't Leave Me Alone. - MICHAEL TOLAND - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM

 

SKINTIGHT JAGUARS "THE CURSE" CD
We're adding an amazing new punk label to our review stable called Zodiac Killer Records. Based out of Cheyenne, Wyoming, these guys have a real lust for riff rock and are fast becoming one for our favorite independent record companies. They are currently unearthing tons of cherry punk from around the globe and making it available to the masses at dirt-cheap prices. No big company bullshit here just solid rock and roll that begs to be played loud. First on the deck are the Skintight Jaguars fresh from their UK tour with the Backyard Babies. Says their press release, they're loud, snotty and combine punk with sleaze in a way best described as decadently apocalyptic. They play with a garage rock mentality and a modern edge flare. Their hit, the bass-driven "Joey Ramone Won't Leave Me Alone", is already making waves and has made it onto at least one porn video. The band boast a killer guitar tone and though easily compared to the Pistols and Clash have their own version of spit and swagger. The eleven tracks that make up The Curse are rapid-fire wind-ups that will obliterate anything in their wake. The mix is a little off kilter and the drums have that hollow echo but it all adds up to a band doing it for the passion and not perfection. Classic moments are the guitar speedfreak "Kill You In Your Sleep", the
head-pounding "I Am The Wolf", and brilliantly-penned "Dead From The Face Down", with its verbal onslaught and intoxicating chorus. Get it! - TK'S CUTTING EDGE


TRUCKSTOP LOVECHILD "THREE CHORDS FROM THE TRUTH" CD
These guys are probably a quartet of hard-living dudes. They sing about getting drunk and speed a lot more than they should, and remind me at times of MOTORHEAD and QUEENS OF THE STONE AGE, but I think their true sound is something akin to a modern-day DEAD BOYS. Real rockin' in yer face, dirgy punk. Good stuff. - VINNIE - MAXIMUM ROCKNROLL - #306 NOVEMBER 2008

 

TRUCKSTOP LOVECHILD "A DAMN GOOD 33:52" CD
I can't get no satisfaction/I can't get no two girl action, complains Vincent Ferrari on Truckstop Lovechild's second album. I hear ya, brother. TLSC does dirty rock & roll right, hitting the sweet spot betwixt punk and hard rock, spitting and snarling about everything and everybody in the world that's done ‘em wrong (or right, if it's alcohol and loose women) and just generally being ornery with the volume cranked. That the band does all this whilst bashing out real songs (complete with more than three chords and one riff apiece) like Long Ride Home, Jay Was Right and the self-explanatory F is For Fuck puts the cherry bomb on the bumcakes. A Damn Good 33:52 is truth in advertising at its best. - MICHAEL TOLAND - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM

 


TRUCKSTOP LOVECHILD/LOOKIES SPLIT 7"
Truckstop Lovechild
, not surprisingly, play trucker punk. Trucker punk with wailing, Gaye Bykers on Acid-y psycho-freakout guitar. It’s a fearsome combo and although their track, the Nashville Pussy-ish Thinkin’ Ain’t Drinkin’ is pretty standard stuff, something tells me these fuckers are bound for…if not glory, than at least one fuck of an album. Watch out for em. The Lookies sound like The Left, which probably means nothing to 99% of you, but seriously, they do. Stooges-inspired garage-punk looking for a fist-fight. Solid. - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM


THE URGENCIES "PRESENT THEIR MANIFESTO" CD
Hey, remember Texan sleaze-teens Pure Rubbish from a few years back? They were gonna be famous. Like Guns N’ Roses with real hair. Something happened though. Something crazy. But that’s not what this is about. That shit was 2003. Done with. This is about the bass player and the guitar player, and their new band, the Urgencies. Imagine mashing up Hanoi Rocks and the Replacements into one big ball of alcoholic jitters and bombastic junk-rock, and you’ve got Urgencies. This is pure, uncut, jangle-free firebrand rock, with heart, guts, and just enough brains to get by. Said brains come into play early on when the fellas stack the deck with a cover of the Lords’ “Method to My Madness” on track 3. It is a well known fact th at ban ds always put their best song on the third track. Subsequently, that’s immediately where pressed-for-time rock journos like yours cruelly skip to. And let’s face it, you can’t miss with a crisply rendered Bators composition. So, well played, Urgencies! But the fun does not end there. I actually know dudes who have traded “Phone Sex for Cigarettes” (Hello, Pepsi Sheen!), so that one made me chuckle heartily, and it’s a sleek sleaze-rocker to boot. “Unshamed” is a great slithering back-alley beast, “My Excuse” is fist-pumping glam-punk and sugar-sprinkled closer “What Doesn’t Kill Me” is sufficiently rousing. Top notch stuff, in the same echelon as the Revolvers or the Diamond Dogs. Sniff it out. - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM


THE BUGS SELF-TITLED CD
From the first song, I’m thinkin’ “Wow, these guys sound like they desperately wanna be the current Queers trying to be the “We’d Have a Riot Doing Heroin”-era Queers, only with dopier lyrics about “lesbos,” smoking dope, fearing becoming gay, a desire to be Mexican, and an unhealthy obsession with Dave Navarro’s goatee. Then I look at the press sheet to see who these quasi-Queers are and, lo and behold, one of ’em is a Queers bassist. Dunno what’s sadder, though—that their strained efforts at being frat boy offensive ring hollow, or that the music’s light years better than the last Queers album I heard. - JIMMY ALVARADO - RAZORCAKE

 

THE BUGS SELF-TITLED CD
is a Cali post-hardcore band that owes a lot to the Ramones and the Descendants. Their self-titled release is 11 songs in just over 13 minutes. From what I can see, there are three main topics here. In no particular order, one is drugs (e.g., “Back on the Weed,” “Meth on My Mind,” “Dopefiend”), looks at culture (e.g., “No More Emo Haircuts,” “I Wish I Was a Mexican,” and my favorite in this category, “Dave Navarro’s Goatee Fucking Sucks”), and the most outstanding one is about homosexuality (“Lesbo! Lesbo!,” “Never Went Gay,” “I’m Turning Gay,” and “Email From a She-male”). I don’t know these guys, and despite the very humorous and sophomoric tone, they seem old enough to know what they are saying. Are they homophobic or homo-core, I’m not sure, but they made me laugh. The songs are little paragraphs of statements with a grin and elbow, and can be summed up by something in the one-page booklet that thanks someone “who was supposed to pl ay dru ms on this record but could not due to state issued mandatory jail time.” If you like your ‘core with a non-serious bent, well... - JERSEY BEAT


THE LASH OUTS SELF-TITLED CD
A solid release from these Dallas, Texas boys. The Lash Outs remind me a lot of the Yuppie Pricks minus the trust fund lyrics. The band has the same sense of punch and you get the vibe that these guys would be a blast to see in some hot dive. At best, as on the opening instrumental Chupacabra, the guitars sound like some sort of mescal fueled hoe-down version of Pipeline-era Agent Orange. If you've ever heard The Nervebreakers cover of The Good, The Bad and The Ugly then that's a probably more appropriate (yet obscure) reference. Then of course, you get to Pain In The Ass, which at 2:36 morphs into a goddam Iron Maiden song! Jaysus! If you're gonna play punk-n-roll in 2009, you gotta do stuff like this to keep it interesting. Its pretty impressive to hear guitars go from rockabilly leads to twin harmonics, let me tell ya. They do it again on I Don't Wanna Be With You, which is a pretty straightforward punk rock song (with harmonic leads). If you like The Nervebreakers, you will probably dig these guys. The only time they lose me is when they start decrying the state of rock-n-roll as in songs like Kids Don't Wanna Dance. We all know that the fans are mainly there to hook up and get wasted and the bands all suck. Maybe its my age but at this point thats a dead horse. We got bigger things to worry about during these Last Days of Man on Earth. But that's a pretty minor quibble cuz this shit rocks good. Yeah...I used the word "quibble". What of it? - JOE STUMBLE - THE LAST DAYS OF MAN ON EARTH

 

THE LASH OUTS SELF-TITLED CD
Great debut from this Dallas band! The Lash Outs combine late 70s punk, traditional rockabilly, power pop & new wave into a really fresh & unique sound of their own. ‘The Kids Don’t Wanna Dance’ & ‘Pain In The Ass’ are my favorites here, but the surf influenced instro ‘Chupacabra’ & ‘Don’t Wanna Be With You’ are top notch as well. There’s even a really cool tongue in cheek ballad of sorts in ‘My Life (Or Lack Thereof)’ that holds up to repeated listening, which is no small achievement to these ears! Imagine a hybrid of the Guitar Gangsters, Buddy Holly, the Gears, the Beat & the Controllers with a healthy dose of humor & you’ll have an idea what the Lash Outs are up to. - LOUD FAST RULES MAGAZINE

 

THE LASH OUTS SELF-TITLED CD
If the Adverts had been an American band, they might have sounded something like Dallas punk quartet the Lash Outs. Like thousands of other good bands all over the country, these guys are stuck with a local scene that basically sucks, a theme that echoes vehemently throughout this totally kick-ass cd, their debut effort. The Lash Outs’ style of punk alternates between a smartly melodic, vintage 70s feel and a punkabilly, slightly Social Distortion edge with fast, bluesy lead guitar. The vocals owe a debt to Johnny Rotten - snotty but not in that stereotypical NOFX Cali surferdude way - they’re sarcastic and the lyrics are funny. This is a great party album, a great driving album and a good choice for your ipod after work when you’ve had to deal with enough BS for a week, never mind a single day. The cd kicks off with Chupacabra, an instrumental somewhat akin to los Straitjackets gone punkabilly, followed by the cynical dead-end anthem Set Me Back and then Dream Catcher, which sounds a lot like the Sex Pistols’ version of Something Else. “I use my head in a visual way/To keep my dreams in my dreams as they’re snatched away,” frontman/lead guitarist Joey Holbrook defiantly smirks. The next cut Pain in the Ass is killer, the offhanded dismissiveness of its pissed-off minor-key melody perfectly matching the lyrics. Whitney is a sarcastic tune about a dominatrix; the band’s signature song The Kids Don’t Wanna Dance nicks the opening lick from Dirty Water and then gets evil and chromatic like the Dead Kennedys. Holbrook rails about getting stuck with an opening slot on a Tuesday night at some shitty club: “We busted ass and dropped the rock/But all they did was sit and talk.” The faux-sensitive midtempo ballad My Life (or Lack Thereof) features a surprisingly pretty guitar solo; if it was any faster, the self-explanatory Don’t Wanna Be with You would be hardcore. “This one’s about a chick who gives good head,” Holbrook tells the live audience in deadpan fashion, as the band launches into the rousing, rockabilly-inflected Fellatious Flo. The cd wraps up with another punkabilly number, the venomously sarcastic Requiem for Rock and Roll, a lash out at conformist listeners everywhere. The Lash Outs have no New York gigs scheduled at the moment; their next show is at Nov 1 at the Denton’s Not Dead Fest, 2 PM at Fred Moore Park, 701 Wilson St., Denton, TX with Warcola, the Scandals and others. - LUCID CULTURE

 

THE LASH OUTS SELF-TITLED CD

How many Jell-O shots does it take/For you to give a guy like me a break?’ That kind of witty update on the age-old subject of the unattainable girl, one of pop music's oldest subjects, is what they do best. Along with chicks and self-pity, another recurring subject is the sad state of rock. They gripe about empty clubs and unresponsive crowds in Deep Ellum on ‘The Kids Don't Wanna Dance’ and brashly close the album by calling out poseurs in skin-tight jeans and Clear Channel radio listeners with ‘Requiem for Rock and Roll.’ They may be right when they sing, ‘Heartbreak, love-make, tears and beers/We sing the same tired song for 50-something years.’ But if more bands put out albums this lively, there'd be no need to call the mortician. - DALLAS OBSERVER

In a bizarro world, in the Dallas of an alternate, and perhaps better, universe, The Lash Outs' ‘The Kids Don't Wanna Dance’ is the city's breakout hit of the summer. A bouncy track that's catchy enough to latch on in its own right and through its own merit, the song also serves as the anthem for the struggling rockers in the local music scene, lamenting the fact that ‘it's no fun playing for no one,’ and, specifically, crying out about the lack of fans in the once-lauded Deep Ellum music scene. Whines lead guitarist and vocalist Joey Holbrook in the song's chorus: ‘And when I walk the vacant streets of Ellum/I can't help but feel a little sore/And you know what hurts the most?/My heart's a-breakin' 'cause the kids don't dance no more.’ A poignant observation? Maybe not. But an important note of the times? One that should be recorded by a Dallas band, if just to take a historical snapshot of the current scene? You betcha. - DALLAS OBSERVER

 

 

THE LASH OUTS SELF-TITLED CD

There's no effin' around with this quartet. Snarly, snotty vocals, to-the-point songs and surprisingly accessible lead guitar riffs all combine in taut three-minute songs. They lash out, indeed, getting straight to the point — 'I don't wanna be with you!' say the lyrics of the kick-off song. Yet, there's a soft side, as in the ballad 'My Life (Or Lack Thereof),' which follows a tried and true Buddy Holly formula with sophomorically funny lyrics: 'I used to play the field so well/But now I just play with myself.' - DALLAS OBSERVER

 

 

THE LASH OUTS SELF-TITLED CD

The Lash Outs are being kind enough to let everyone download their two new tracks, 'The Kids Don't Wanna Dance' and 'Dream Catcher,' on their MySpace. And, after listening, we're pretty damn excited to hear more of the new stuff. 'The Kids Don't Wanna Dance' has a catchy riff and a standard walking bassline. The punk quartet is always fun, and plays solid, straightforward punk rock. We've already added the songs to our playlist, and suggest you do the same. They went live last night, and we're not sure how long they'll be downloadable. Both tracks will be on the band's forthcoming disc on Zodiac Killer Records. - DC9 AT NIGHT

 

THE LASH OUTS SELF-TITLED CD

If you like your punk rock loud, straightforward and fast, make plans to be at The Prophet Bar on Saturday night--and save a few bucks for the merch table. The Lash Outs are playing, and chances are good they’ll be slinging copies of their self-titled CD, just released by Zodiac Killer Records. I’m still waiting on my review copy, but I like what I’ve heard so far. - DC9 AT NIGHT

They (Lash Outs) seem to get their sound from 50s bubble gum pop, then put thier own demented punk rock twist on it. The result is some very fast and catchy as hell sing along anthems like 'Do the Castration' that had this staffer singing along and pumpimg my fist in the air. We talked to the members after their set and they seemed like a nice bunch of guys and thanked us for coming to the show. But in reality it is us who should be thanking them for kicking so much ass. Take our advice peeps and keep an eye out for these guys. If you can make it out to one of their shows you wont be dissapointed. - THE UNOBSERVER


POLECAT BOOGIE REVIVAL SELF-TITLED CD
Comin’ straight out o’ the bible belt, Polecat Boogie Revival is a powerhouse rock n roll combo hailin’ from Tennessee. The band is fueled by a high-octane mixture of ripsnortin’ Southern rock, hard-edged ’70s FM-radio classics, a sincere love for American roots music and the ass-kickin’ attitude of outlaw country. Word is spreadin’ about Polecat Boogie Revival as the group’s diehard fans, collectively known as The Congregation, demand their dose of energetic, hammer-down rock n roll. PBR’s first studio recordings, which include a rough n tumble left-field cover of Warren Zevon’s "Play It All Night Long", are regularly featured on college and regional radio in Tennessee, Georgia, Alabama and Florida. They’ve played extensively all over the South and were tapped as main support for the second leg of Hank Williams III’s national tour in 2005. Keep your ears open as the band brings boogie to the masses with relentless tourin’ and their ne xt stu dio recording in 2008. With support and praise pourin’ in from all over the place, Polecat Boogie Revival plan to kickstart the party overseas with their first full-length CD on Italy’s own Scarey Records. It’s safe to say the best has yet to come for these hard workin’ southern boys. Featuring Alan King of Hellstomper on vocals. “PBR are full-tilt swamp devil riff and roll, meaner than a piss drinkin’ hooker and as lethal as tainted hog venom..…half Nuge, half Black Oak, all hairy, scary, and quite possibly evil. Highly recommended. - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM


STEAKNIVES, THE "WE CAN'T STAND THIS WORLD" 7” EP
The Italian kids responsible for the music here offer up four hellafied tight and catchy punk ditties that could’ve easily held their own against the Dangerhouse stuff back in the late ‘70s. Seems like Zodiac Killer is trying to make an end run on and corner the market on the catchy, rock end of the punk spectrum, and it seems to me they might be succeeding. - JIMMY ALVARADO - RAZORCAKE

 

STEAKNIVES "WE CAN'T STAND THIS WORLD" 7" EP - Cool four-track EP of snotty and catchy Italian punk rock that I like more every time I play it (four times now!) Imagine mixing the amazing Italian punk band Taxi with early-era TSOL, and you have an idea of what's in store here. The lyrics tend to fall along the somewhat absurd (in a good way) '70's punk style of "Feel Like A Dog" and "Gimme Your Brain" (two songs on this EP}, but it's a load of toe tapping, punk rock n' roll action that will make veen the most political and serious asshole want to dance! An insert would have been nice, but other than that, I would say that this is a first-rate release undeniably worth checkng out. - BG - MAXIMUM ROCKNROLL

 

THE STEAKNIVES "WE CAN'T STAND THIS WORLD" 7" EP
Steaknives are Italian, which sorta surprised me, what with the scary red blood splatter on the cover. Usually it’s American bands pushing the openly-psychotic angle. Anyways, sweet pink vinyl and a quartet of creepy-crawly garage-punk that grinds away at a slack-ass pace but makes up for it’s lack of pep with some very tasty Thunders-esque guitar licks. Lotsa talk about dogs. I think they’re into the Stooges. - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM


THE NICOTINE FITS "LIKE THE CURSE" CD
Ah, to be young, bored and sexually frustrated. (As opposed to old and...never mind.) Like a lot of young ‘ns, Denver's Nicotine Fits channel all those dead-end minimum wage jobs and hormonal aches into loud rock & roll. The seven tunes on Like the Curse burst with Detroit energy and Minneapolis hooks like pus from popped pimples, as singer Pete Sisson bitches about Teenage Wads and Girls Like Heroin to Me, how he's Drinkin My Life Away, how he Just Can't Control Her and especially about how he needs to Shake Me Some Action. I wouldn't wish teenage boredom and blue balls on anybody, but if being unfulfilled keeps these boys' musical madness peaking, I hope they never get laid. - MICHAEL TOLAND - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM

 

THE NICOTINE FITS "LIKE THE CURSE" CD
Here's one of a handful of bands in the world who sound like Radio Birdman without wanting to be them. This is a killer disc, no risk. On just about every song, The Nicotine Fits' twin-guitar attack-with-keyboard-colourings hits the target with unerring accuracy. Flashes of Stooges and Dead Boys pop up in the course of seven songs, but it's the Radio Birdman spin-off/supergroup New Race that's most often recalled. And in case you were wondering, The Nicotine Fits are from Denver, not Darlinghurst. Drummer Sean Vigil is less of a disciple of Ron Kelley's skittish feels than an uncomplicated and dynamic player. Singer Peter Sisson sounds like Mark Arm crossed with The Hives' Pelle Almqvis. Guitars are obviously the main game and Bert Maple and Nick Santa Maria get in each other's face regularly. One of them is fencing the the odd stolen lick ("Descent into the Maelstrom" is an obvious influence) but who cares when it sounds this good? These guys sound like they're hungry enough to eat the crotch out of a low flying duck. "Just Can't Control Her" is one of those songs where the sonic attack is furious but rays of light show through the spaces. Imitators can't pull that off. Hear it for yourself when Chris Bullock lays down a rolling keyboard line underneath as the band choruses: "I feel alright!" "Pieces of Teethes" brings to bear a similar approach with some nasty-and-nice squalling guitar bleeding through. "Shake Me Some Action" gets down to business after a minute-long intro but goes for the throat with ruthless intent. The Nicotine Fits like to create space in the middle of their songs and this pause is a good one. I could dock half a Rolling Rock for dabbling with hackneyed imagery in "Girl's Like Heroin To Me" but the hammering guitars won't let me. The "Maelstrom" lick turns up again but there's all sorts of stuff buzzing around in the breakdown, some of it noxious. A nice way to end it. - THE BARMAN

 

NICOTINE FITS, THE "LIKE THE CURSE" CD
Direct, no-frills meat and potatoes punk rock, emphasis on “rock.” They do it well. - JIMMY ALVARADO - RAZORCAKE


THE SPECIMENS "THE QUICK AND THE DEAF" / "FAST & LOOSE" CD - In the tradition of fellow Australian bands like Rose Tattoo, AC/DC, The Saints, and Radio Birdman, these guys take the Detroit's bluesy, punked-up rock n' roll template and just go to town with it, infusing it with enough swagger to blow the balls off a charging rhino at sixty paces. Collected here are two full-lengths and an EP, all of which are definitely above average for this particular pigeonhole, plus an interview with the band from an Australian radio show. Impressive stuff here, fo' sho'. - JIMMY ALVARADO - RAZORCAKE - Issue #43

 

THE SPECIMENS "THE QUICK AND THE DEAF/FAST AND LOOSE" CD
Is it just me, or is the fine country of Australia home to a hell of a lot of top shelf rock & rollers? The Saints, Radio Birdman, the Beasts of Bourbon and their many offshoots, the Chevelles, Feedtime, the Drones, Kim Salmon's various projects, You Am I...the list goes on and fuckin' on. Add the Specimens to the roster with this American introductory disk that combines the quartet's two albums, plus an EP. Like an Aussie Joker Five Speed, the Specimens don't fuck around - there's no time wasted on anything but catchy fuzzbomb riffs, runaway train rhythms and spitting sneers. Loaded, Kiss On the Lips and Drama Queen run on the kind of angry/horny fuel powering young men around the world - it spills all over the floor on Burn City Burn, No Good and The Quick and the Deaf, so mind the matches. The disk ends with an Australian interview that teases the group's forthcoming record Jazz Brutus, which sounds like it's gonna be another corker. Bottle-smashing, firestarting, gang deb-fucking rock & roll. - MICHAEL TOLAND - SLEAZEGRINDER.COM

 

THE SPECIMENS "THE QUICK AND THE DEAF" CD
If the debut album "Fast and Loose", was testimony to what two chords, a big swinging bottom end and a howling Marshall stack could do to dislodge a cubic kilogram of wax from the most stubborn of ears, this follow-up is no less an aural enema. Perhaps a tad less sonically raw but no less powerful, the songs might just be better. It's a near-run thing. As well as far flung outposts like Perth and Brisbane are traveling well in their own eclectic or derivative ways, Melbourne's really become the epicentre of a fragmented Australian music scene. Go out any night of the week and you can catch something worthwhile (as opposed to something best treated with penicillin). The Specimens certainly sit in the former category - a beer-fuelled, eight-legged monster armed with in-the-red guitars and understated but undeniable melodies. The Specimens put me in mind of an early Tumbleweed. Contemporary comprades might be Sweden's Sewergrooves, who similarly marry hi-energy rock 'n' roll to melodic hooks, albeit with a lighter guitar attack. Look to the smoking Specimens track "Levitate" for evidence. The distance between Scandinavia and Melbourne isn't that great these days, and I bet the Swedes would take to The Specimens like bricklayers to beer. There's nothing subtle about The Specimens' songs about sex ("Get on Top"), drugs ("Janie" - surely a cousin of Mary-Jane) and rock and roll (the rest of them) but, then again, why should there be? It's rock and fucking roll, not Beethoven's Fifth. It's a brief album too (36 minutes) but that's more than enough to do the job. A good game is, more often than not, a quick game (Test cricket notwithstanding). There's a lineage of Aussie pub rock going back to the days of Thorpey, The Coloured Balls and the latter-day Masters Apprentices and beyond that's timeless, and from some very ordinary bands are striving to derive inspiration. The Specimens manage to draw from that often-visited well, but come up with a big leaky bucket of something of their own, soaking themselves and everybody around them. Unlike some, however, The Specimens avoid the cliches of endless-guitar-solos-in-search-of-a-song and never descend to mindless boogie. There are enough dynamic variations and occasional extra touches (harp, keyboards) to stop the whole shebang going over the edge and it's assisted by Lindsay Garvina's punchy production that's cleaned up the sound just enough to be palatable for airplay on adventurous radio stations, or even Triple Jay. Too much music today is homogenous: full of sugar, mass-produced and simply no good. It's not too silly an analogy to observe that there's also a less-than-subtle re-positioning campaign underway to make one global fast food chain look deceptively healthy. Fact is, homogenised music and food are both crap - the only difference is that one's a hangover cure (but it's not a patch on a hair of the dog.) If you're serious about your rock and roll, you too should pass on the Big Macs and get a chunk of "The Quick and the Deaf" - it's a real beef burger made in one of those old fashioned corner stores. Extra sauce, anyone? - THE BARMAN

 

THE SPECIMENS "THE QUICK AND THE DEAF" CD
The Speccies were one of the best things to come out of Melbourne in the early '00s so it was a damn shame when they ran out of steam and disbanded. They may have looked like a bunch of trucker cap rockers in search of a car spare parts swap meet, but their chunky brand of Dog Meat bands-meet-The-Dragons-from-San-Diego contained equal measures of epic wit and high-energy. "Jazz Brutus": was a fantastic note to end on but the preceding two albums, "The Quick And The Deaf" and "Fast 'n' Loose", set that one up. "Jazz Brutus" was a brown acid trip with lashings of hard-edged psychedelia applied. Lovers of the more straight-forward, honest-to-goodness aural back-slam will appreciate what went before. This disc is a re-ish of "The Quick And The Deaf" with "Fast 'n' Loose" appended in full. Rounding out the package is the "Burn City Burn" EP and a 2007 radio interview. A total of 21 tracks makes for a top-value deal. The same comments that appear in the reviews below still apply. This is top-notch Rock Action that never quite broke out of Australia in the profile stakes ('though the Specimens did make it to Europe and were well-received.) The collection underlines how far the Specimens jumped ahead in the production sense as they went along with "The Quick And The Deaf"; played all the way through, "Fast 'n' Loose" suffers markedly in comparison. That shouldn't jar too much - the songs on the earlier album still rock royally. - THE BARMAN

 

THE SPECIMENS "FAST & LOOSE" CD
Melbourne's Specimens must rock the USA to its bootstraps when they tour there in late 2003, if only to impress upon the Yanks the cultural significance of a lyric like "You're as cunning as a shithouse rat". That's a refrain from "Shithouse Rat", just one of the rough gems you'll strike on the short (32 minutes) but sweet debut album by these St Kilda newcomers. Bottom-of-the-bill for much of their brief career in their hometown, on the strength of this, the Specimens could be headlining with the likes of the Datsuns, Jet, the Casanovas and the D4 before too much longer. The essential elements are there: Lots of guitar, a powerhouse engine room (Brent's feel-laden drumming rules) and catchy, if sometimes not fully realised tunes. Don't know why so many people bag the latest wave of so-called garage discoveries. Just because it's signed to a major label doesn't make it automatically bad. Me, I'm happy someone's taking notice of bands like the Hives and the Datsuns, who at least play the right sort of music (ie. raw rock 'n' roll). It's highly derivative - what isn't? - and some of it's been emasculated in big dollar studios to make it more palatable for boxheaded radio programmers, but the parts you chose to like are a matter of personal taste. Different Strokes for different folks, if that's not too obvious a pun. Hype is a turn-off so don't read it, and don't take it to heart too much when some loser from the English musical press takes a band to their bosom one week only to trash them mercilessly the next. Besides, you can always turn the radio off and listen to a disc like "Fast & Loose". Anyway, the Specimens are too young to have been there in person, but their roots are firmly planted in the mid-'80s scene. That'll piss off the music writer at The Age or the Sydney Morning Herald but it don't faze me none and shouldn't worry you either. No surprise then that "Down on Me" has latter day Lime Spiders written all over it, down to Terry's Draino vocals (lacking only old Mick Blood's patented "let go of my balls" scream). Songs like "Lately", a re-recorded "Burn City Burn" and the runaway train title track are full of energy and punchy dynamism. As they sing on "Burn City Burn": "We like to party long and hard". The Specimens remind me of San Diego's Dragons, with just a touch less swagger and guitar histrionics. Can't give more of a compliment than that. - THE BARMAN

 

THE SPECIMENS SELF-TITLED CD EP
This new four-piece twin guitar band from the inner city suburbs of Melbourne, claim to be "unashamedly Bogan rock" and as such claim influences from the likes of Radio Birdman, AC-DC, Bored!, Lime Spiders, The Spoilers, etc. Their debut five track CD EP opens with"'No Good" and immediately displays decidedly crafted guitar-based punk/hard rock songs, with strong dynamics and a definite Radio Birdman flavour. "Hole in the Head" is a definite nod to Brisbane's legendary The (Fucken) Leftovers classic "Cigarettes and Alcohol" in the lyric department, which is combined with some scorching lead guitar work that would make The Onyas proud and provides a highlight of the CD EP. Throughout, the guitarwork of Terry Opie and Tim Wold seems to mesh quite seamlessly and the duo of Adam Clarke (bass) and Johnny 8 Ball (drums) provide solid backing, but also take the opportunities where possible to stretch out and highlight the kind of tight but also loose rhythm section they can be. The other highlight of the CD EP would have to be "Burn City Burn" with the band showing yet again a definite grasp of dynamics. A strong debut from these young St. (Sin) Kilda garage rock kids. - SIMON LI


THE LIVING WRECKS "CHEAP HEAT" CD - The Living Wrecks' debut full-length album is a beer soaked, debauchery filled symphony of cacophony. The album sounds as if it were an original soundtrack to a Charles Bukowski novel. Shout along choruses and impeccable guitars are the high point of nearly every song. D GENERATION and THE DEAD BOYS' influence can be heard prevalently in "Cheap Heat." The band rerecorded two songs from an EP they released in the winter of 2006/2007; neither version is really superior to the other. "Cheap Heat" ends on the uncharacteristically bluesy song, "Nothing to Lose." The album artwork was done by Living Wrecks bassist and resident graphic design student, Alex Hagen, and the photography by CHEAPSHOTS drummer Abid a.k.a Rabid. I've watched this band progress from their first show where their original bassist played unplugged and they did a PAGANS cover to now where. The Living Wrecks have a distinctive sound and cohesion as a band. - TYLER VILE - PUNK GLOBE MAGAZINE

 


Drink.Fight.Fuck.
Volume III CD


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