Oct 29, 2016

TURQUOISE FEELING S/T 12inch EP

Photo courtesy of Turquoise Feeling's Facebook page
     The sounds of the Rust Belt. It's brash but earnest. It's normally a bit of shambles but beneath the racket there's allurement of melodic disharmony. It's the type of sound that is often found being made by people stuck in Midwest cities that are a couple hours drive away from any place "cool" but they don't really care or in towns where there's a state college. Even in the latter instance it's not made by folks who's parents are footing the bill. It's usually guys that have to work two job and schedule any higher education.
     It's the sound of the shaggy and thoughts articulated not through grandiloquent tomes but from folks that'll lend you a smoke and then converse with you about the bullshit in the world around you both. They're the cats who when put on a bill a with some national press darlings, they will play louder and harder, bumming out the Pitchfork readers there to say "I saw them back in..." if the buzz band goes any farther. They'll also get someone who's never seen the before declaring them the best band in town halfway before their set is done.
     While the landslide of rumbling bass and blood drawing guitar scratches of  the records opener "Feverfew" make evoke thoughts of NZ's Flying Nun sound at some sort of mega-unruliness such or the way "Post Partum" could be from early 80's and much more turbulent Athens, GA, Turquoise Feelings are 100% wearing their heart on the frayed flannel sleeve Rust Belt. Them being of the Ohio chapter, noises of other denizens from the Buckeye state creep in and out of their commotion then get bent into a new directive. For instance, both the former and latter above also may prick the eardrums as a Death of Samantha being cranked through car speakers being put to use after being dug out underneath of pile of discarded and vermin ridden tires.
     More closer to their home base, the mangled jangled guitar interplay of "January Sisters In Drag" and "External Oblique" are like the Cheater Slicks getting all bent of out shape on Neil Young & Crazy Horse bootlegs which means can listen to them over and over all day and most likely will. The hyperactivity of "Dreadful Things Done By Girls" and the drunken sing-songy melody got me thinking of Gaunt without really sound like them at all.
     The one thing that all the songs in common here though is that they're all like mini epics. I didn't set a stopwatch or anything, but they all pack what they want to do and say pretty quickly and too the point.
     It's been awhile since I have gone on an ALL OHIO music jag but I think it's time to do one soon and this record is going make it place among some other records from the state I tend to listen to still on a regular basis.
www.heelturnrecords.com

Oct 24, 2016

SAVOY MOTEL S/T LP

     From the wildman rockabilly howling of his one man and the crude destructo trash of the Rat Traps to the Buzzcocks and other hooky tinged influenced blasts of Cheap Time,  Jeffrey Novak has been laying down chunks of punk rock sounds for over a decade now. The common thread that ran through all those bands was an identifiable footing planted in garage rock roots.
     His latest project, Savoy Motel (which also includes a couple folks from Heavy Cream), may throw those expecting that sort of thing shining through off. Sounding like it would make a perfect sandwich if put between the Young Marble Giants and Funkadelic, this record is all about a party but maybe not so much a party that involves spraying cheap cans of beer everywhere. Sipping colorful drinks with umbrellas in them though? Perhaps.
     Loaded with clickity-tickity rhythm boxes accents abounds, some falsetto that can get a little cheesy but not willies inducing like Mick Jagger's are on "Emotional Rescue" and enough space echo'd wah-wha guitar rips to cover an entire city in searing fuzzies, there's songs like funky southern pop groove of "Sorry People"and "Everyone Wants To Win" that can make even a dingy and damp evening feel more like an afternoon of gold (be that both of the Cuervo and Acapulco sort) sunshine that needs to be danced in.
     When nighttime rolls around, the strange new wave and jittery funk that fires up the boogie machine of "Souvenir Shop Rock", the disco record that sounds like it's being warped from being in the hands of a glitter rock band that's "Mindless Blues" and the way "Hot One" answers the question of what would happen if Devo and ABBA traded places, can get party lights to flash in an off-kilter way that'll have people making up new dance steps and their neighbor from downstairs hitting the ceiling with a broom stick to get them to calm it down.
     To say that the 70's influences are blatant is more than obvious. It's everywhere from the sound to the way the band looks. The cool thing here is though instead of absolute pastiche that would have the novelty wear off by the third listen, the band intent goes way deeper than spending a week listening to the 70's at 7 for a couple hours and then thinking they got great idea. For starters, those  don't play anything from Can's Ege Bamyasi, or The Incredible Bongo Band both of which Savoy Motel sound like the have every morning along with a plate of tropical fruit and coconut rum.
https://savoymotel.com

Oct 17, 2016

The Cheater Slicks at the UFO Factory

     I  think it is no secret that I feel that the Cheater Slicks are one the greatest American Rock-n-Roll bands ever. I'm talking about them ranking waaay up there like the Velvet Underground (yeah, I know Cale is foreigner but the band was formed in the US), the Cramps, the Stooges, the Electric Eels, the Gories, CCR and so on. I mean it too.
     I've seen them quite a few times live throughout the years but hadn't for quite a while until catching them at the UFO Factory in Detroit this past Friday. It's a little foggy as to the exact last time I saw 'em really and after talking to C'Slicks Tom after their set for a few minutes, it's still not clear as to when it was the last time either. He knows they played Detroit for sure in '94 and '96. I knew that though 'cuz I saw 'em then. I also know I've seen them a couple times in the 21st century but they weren't necessarily in Detroit and since I am crummy at keeping any notes I take around for too long of time I guess the exact dates will just have to be speculated now.

     One thing I know for sure though that it was still everything I'd want from a Cheater Slicks show. Tom's guitar making a roaring clang like an aural tornado rolling down road, rattling tin buildings and uprooting trees. His voice, one part a 1960's pop fizz and a lot of parts of bourbon and gasoline, churning up both yearning and bile out of his gut and into the mic.  

  
     To Tom's left is his brother Dave. Ancient effects pedals strewn in front of him to make his fractured Fender axe howl the freaked out free jazz runs and caveman country licks he manages to wrangle and strangle out it at the same time. Both siblings pushing their six strings volume through Music Man 130 HD heads.

 
     Anchored smack-dab between them is Dana on drums hellbent on shaking the world off it's axis with the most violent surf fills and brutal backbeats around, his head down bashing away at the kit execpt for when it is time for for us to hear his hoarse bellow which, fortunately is often.
     Blasting through their catalog with nary a break save for Dana singing the wrong song and a broken string, I wish their set could go on for hours. I've heard a few people worry that these guys may not bring it as the once did. Y'know, age and the baggage it brings can do that but that is not the case here. Hell, the band were old souls even when they were young.
     Yep. The Cheater Slicks still rule.
These photos are by me. See more of them from the night over at the Smashin' Transistors Tumblr page.

Oct 10, 2016

Stroh's Bohemian-Style Pilsner

     When the word hit the news that Stroh's would be brewed in Detroit again, you would've thought from the buzz and excitement about it all over internet that it was announced that Bob Seger was going to go door to door and hand everyone a bottle or something.
     By the time I started drinking Stroh's, the company was the 3rd largest brewery in the country but was also starting to fall apart. Their home base brewery in Detroit was closed in 1985 (and along with it, the fire brewing process they proudly boasted about on it labels) and by 1999, all the company's assets were sold off essentially making it finally really only Stroh's in name is it was brewed by contract all over different parts of the country. That version (or whatever the facsimile of it is these days at least) can be found in it's blue can in parts of the country to this this day.
     From what I remember it was fizzy, yellow barley pop. It had a bit more bite then some other macros and less of that weird corn syrup and carbonated water flavor than others. It was your standard beer but, as a Michigander, it was OUR standard. As the years went on though, whatever distinct characters it had slipped away more and more making it interchangeable with most other budget swag on the shelves.
     This new Stroh's, brewed at  Big Boy Restaurant associated Brew Detroit LLC in Detroit's Corktown neighborhood, is a bit more "grown up" than that if, at least, by a tiny bit. The abv is a little higher for starters (5.5% vs 4.8%) along with other things that are easier to detect with the eye, nose and and tongue. The color itself is a more of a gold than the faded yellow straw for beginners. The head is a bit stronger too and it holds on for more than a few seconds. Unlike smelling just like only damp saltines, there are also faint notes of honey on the nose here.
     The flavor is crisp and fresh. The malt base is sturdy (I am guessing it's the choice of Vienna malt that does the trick) instead of watered down and has a slight sweetness to it. The biggest twist from what I remember from any Stroh's I've had back in the 80's up until even more recent times at this point though is a slightly bitter but not biting to hard hop notes. Like all marcos, regular Stroh's seemed to have just enough to have them play their part in the brewing process but never a priority. Here, they are noticeable but not over the top making it taste closer to a good, solid German pilsner than whatever the really, really old coots are drinking at the down at the corner bar. As it warms and breaths a little, pine notes come a little more to the forefront as do the faint flavor of corn chips.
     It's pretty obvious that this beer is aiming for a retro-hound crowd and, like the 1960's recipe Schlitz that can be found around at some better beer stores, I think they nailed it. Don't pick this up expecting your mind to be blown but if you're looking for something that's tastes like the kind of beer our dad's and grandpa's drank when they were younger or a lawnmower beer with a little more oomph this could be your fix.
strohbeer.com

Oct 7, 2016

HEAVY LIDS We Believe In The Night LP

Photo by Gary Loverde
     Some of my favorite punk rock is the kind of punk rock that sounds like it is from outer space. I don't know the exact distance from where the Heavy Lids live in New Orleans is from outer space but judging from the rumbling & droned out ignition of the album's opener "Useless Escape" and the matter of moments it takes before the throttle is pulled for complete propulsion, it's my guess that after dealing with a little heavy traffic it's a non-stop trip into the Rock-n-Roll nebula.
     Ramoneszoid downstroke guitars are double strength laser beams on songs like the antsy "Night And Day", how "Pressure" total blares and the way "Trash And Burn" provides a simple sing along for making a mess of everything while kicking in faces.
      The trips to planets both weird and loud find themselves rattled by Z-movie sci-fi keyboard whirls and an nasally alien voice that doesn't ask "Take Me To Your Leader" (but will probably ask to be led to all the cold booze and hot drugs) on the garage psych twitch that's all over the splattering "Where Are You Now" and the mutant bop "Catatonic State" while "What Remains" sounds like it is taking credit for burning down the all the chicken coops on Mars.
     The record does end by falling to earth though as the rocket ride of "Manacles" seems to bolt at hyperspace ending like it is crashing through meteors on a voyage through more distant galaxies.
Pelican Pow Wow