Random Stabbings & Artless Critique – January 2006 by: Eric W. Saeger
RANDOM STABBINGS & ARTLESS CRITIQUE – January 2006
by Eric Saeger
Zodiac Mindwarp & The Love Reaction, “Rock Savage” (Abstract
Sounds)
Medium-speed sleaze-metal so full of its double-Y self it can’t
help but succeed. AWOL from his
writing/cartooning/psychiatric- ward-squatting pursuits,
Zode brags on and on about booze, motorcycles and stealing your
girlfriend in his best Sisters of Mercy-schooling drawl, under
which his high-rent garage Mossad plays variations on AC/DC riffs
and howls like meth-shnockered werewolves (prettily, too, in
“Northern Boy”) – all systems nominal in other words. A sorely
needed respite from rock’s ongoing, seemingly incurable identity
crisis. Order at Amazon.com
Mezklah, “Spider Monkey” (Escuchalo Records)
Band-in-a-box electro hawking Greg Hernandez’ guitar and Angel Garcia’s Spanish rapping over drum ‘n bass, urban-jungle cumbia and related beats. Emotive, raw and fun, the record is pure ’64 Impala cruise with one quick duck into the phone booth at the title track for a costume-change into English-speaking nu-grunge pundits firing Hendrix wah-pedal at anything that moves. Order at CD Baby
Mascara, “Spell” (Mr. Fibuli’s Records)
Insolent barrage of Nick Cave dolt-core, felony theft of Queen and
a 3 Stooges sense of doom riffing – trademark Boston scenesterism
that flips a pre-emptive screw-you to the big record labels before
they get a chance to sneer an ironic “this isn’t indie enough,
man.” Keeping with Paradise Club tradition, there are a few
minutes that rival the excitement of a potato-baking race, a clever
psy-op to weed out the posers. Order at CD Baby
Subthunk, “You Should’ve Been Here Yesterday” (Ureneely
Recordings)
The next generation’s Quentin Tarantino would cartwheel for joy at
the thought of a band like this – crunchy, woozy, compressed
beat-box techno with a tilted-room 60s side, sung by Lisa Moore as
if she were mocking Dido sprawled on a couch laying down her lines
between swiffs off a five-dollar jug of zinfandel. The fact that
it’s soundtrack-ready hasn’t been lost on LA bloodsuckers –
previous material has been used as background hipness in
peer-pressure soaps Boston Legal and Six Feet Under. Order at CD Baby
Audrey Horne, “No Hay Banda” (Candlelight Records)
Thrill to the spectacle of Audrey Horne making a quick snack out of
Disturbed and using emo as a toothpick. Tightly constructed, very
heavy non-conformist nu-metal unafraid to go out on the thinnest of
limbs carrying an armload of cats, even going so far as to repaint
David Lee Roth as a jilted townie homeboy in “Candystore.” Order
Chiasm, “Relapse” (COP International Records)
A fair-to-middling techno sole-proprietorship, Chiasm spotlights
Michigan’s Emileigh Rohn, posed on her album cover as an
anarchinatrix in paramilitary Gap gear, poorly accessorized with a
non-threatening doe-eyed stare. She’s leveling a pistol at you in
the photo, which, it would stand to reason, is fair warning that
the listener is about to expose his or her ears to a tall glass of
buzz-and-boom kick-butt. Kickoff track “Embryonic,” however,
skulks around packing naught but a load of stock goth tuneage and
Chuck E Cheese death fixation, after which it lays down with its
paws up expecting a vigorous belly rub for performing those
rudimentary tricks. The big picture isn’t altogether awful,
though, and indeed much of it – the sexy trance of “Rewind” most of
all – would fit the bill when the deejay is of an orgying mind.
What’s not great are Rohn’s tiresome flails at KMFDM-hardass
sentiments; although she’d love to terrorize the countryside, her
strengths lie in cream-puff technopop. In the next life maybe.
Order at Amazon.com
Alif Tree, “French Cuisine” (Compost Records)
French soundtrack go-to-guy Tree flogs his espresso-beatnik jazz
manga with static spitballs and synth-knob-diddling that parallels
a school bully pulling the wings off butterflies. Ravings include
the Sylvia Plath-esque piano/bolero-guitar duel “Belle” and an
unwieldy 60s sci-fi philharmonic loop straight out of Fantastic
Voyage drowning in scratchy bust-a-beats in “Enough.” Order at CD Universe
Arms of Kismet, “Cutting Room Rug” (Wampus Records)
Too-good-for-MTV dollop of Tom Petty cowpoke, Flaming Lips spunk
and a Grateful Dead fetish for choo-choos (“Outbound Train” and
“Clover,” a Jackass-age guided tour of the enchanted Rosedale
Clapton yammered about in “Crossroads”). Mark Doyon’s mod-Dylan
posturing combined with some shock guitar not witnessed since Blue
Oyster Cult and a pervasive rock-opera theme leave this with not
much to dislike. This label is making very few mistakes. Order at
Baby
Narcotic Lollipop, “Rodent” (Bipolar Audio)
Two-person operation reviving Lili Taylor’s spittle-flecked “Joe Lies” concept from Say Anything, ie cataclysmic roots indie in which Strats and snare drums are flogged by a flea-bitten alpha wench looking to out-Exene Exene. The masterful production comes off like a beat box recording played over a 1962 Bell rotary telephone relayed through a toaster – or the first New York Dolls album, take your pick. Only departure from all the angel-dusted colic is “Messy Men” and its blobby guitar evoking Nirvana’s “Come
As You Are.” Fight the power, missy. Order at Bipolar Audio
Stromkern, “Light It Up” (WTii Records)
Although it isn’t anomalous to catch strong whiffs of metal wafting
out of today’s kraut-techno, urbania was a resource woefully
underemployed prior to the hip-hoppish ranting dotting this
follow-up to last year’s widely applauded EP. Fleshed out nicely
with plenty-enough daredevil risks, a haunting piano layer
reminiscent of the main theme to Road to Perdition (“Forgiven”) can
be found among assorted other goth and low-BPM accoutrements.
Order at Tower Records
Grimfist, “10 Steps to Hell” (Candlelight Records)
Propagandized as a more middle of the road type metal operation,
Grimfist’s sound would be identical to Metallica’s “Ride the
Lightning” were it not for the gravel-gargling black metal
expulsions of singer “Frediablo” (nudge). After subtracting one or
two points for old-hatness like that, the residuum’s good enough to
recommend over and above much of what was blapped into 2005’s death
metal pot. The most striking (and original) innard is the pneumatic
drill riff that steers “Breed Apart,” and the Alice n
Chains-bamboozling “Separation of My Soul” isn’t a bad spiff
Amazon.com
Girls on Film, “Danceteria” (Nativesun Records)
Or Soccer Moms Gone Wild. Had Alicia Bridges fronted Flock of
Seagulls the excretions might have sounded like those of this
quartet of Tallahassee babes, dressed as Simple Minds video extras
in day-glo business-minis and Aquanet. Some salvageable retro-80s
treadmilling and an aww-how-cute attempt at refurbishing same with
novo-techno notwithstanding, the lack of guitar leaves the
structures flopping around bonelessly. Order at
Tower Records
Bolt Thrower, “Those Once Loyal” (Metal Blade
Records)
The Metal Blade beat goes on: angry-bees-nest thrash metal from
England fortified with tightly controlled earthquakes of double
bass drumming and Karl Willetts’ low-register Nephilim-like
growling. All of this sounds familiar, of course, but for the
unsinkable and ever-growing fan base that derives pleasure from the
new breed of calc and thrash, these guys probably sound as
different from everyone else as Cliff Richard from Sevendust. At
any rate, Bolt Thrower’s level of energy isn’t ruined by
unlistenable learners-permit jazz-prog nonsense, as is found all
too often within the indie-metal genre (“calc-metal” bands being
the worst offenders, of course). Also greatly reduced is the Iron
Maiden factor, meaning there aren’t a lot of self-important
zillion-layer guitar solos (although what soloing is offered is
quite good, up to and including the woofer-busting runs by bassist
Jo Bench). This isn’t to infer that the record is dumbed down, but
simply what one would normally expect from a not-inept band
attempting a scholarly fusion of classic DIY punk and Sabbath-era
metal. Order from Metal Blade
Records
Ramona Silver, “Intermission” (Tootsie Music)
Freshly showered neo-post-punk mating Liz Phair with servile
Katrina and the Waves AOR-philandering, all written very nicely
(Billboard says so) but a tad overly dependent on art-gimp
vegan-jazz guitar progressions meant to cover up weak bridges and
fait unaccompli choruses (few and far between on this 6-songer but
nevertheless demonstrative of a batting average that won’t give
Sheryl Crow nightmares). Order at CD BABY
Eric is always seeking undiscovered and indie bands for review.