Aug 27, 2018

CHRISTOPHER ALAN DURHAM Slow Drain 7inch


I am not familiar with Christopher Alan Durham's previous bands Roachclip, The Bibs or Church Shuttle. Because of that, I am also not sure in which "Downriver" Michigan community (there are 18 of them) he committed these two songs on to a Tascam 4-track in so I can't compare how it measures to them.

Having spent a fair amount of time in Wyandotte, the 5th largest downriver town population wise best known for the steel mills that provided the early American auto industry with the metal to build cars (the 2nd largest in population Downriver community is Lincoln Park. It's best known as the place where the MC5 first got in fights with each other at a malt shop parking lot and then formed a band) the past half-decade or so due to family connections though, and the apparitional spaces where it sounds like this record dwells, I am thinking I need to become more acquainted with both.

Specters of Skip Spence's Oar, Pink Reason's Cleaning The Mirror, Daniel Johnston's songs from the A Texas Trip cassette and the most clattering and skittish of NZ bands loom heavy here.

On "Day and Age" and it's b-side "For Many Years" fragile guitar strums somewhat inattentively provide an anchor for Durham's slumberous drawl. Odd intonations from an organ and harmonium along with the occasional crack of a drum flit and float through the proceedings sounding ghostly and distant. It's the kind of record to play in the wee hours when in an introspective mood or a want for late night paranoia.
Get haunted at Spacecase

Aug 26, 2018

OUTER SPACIST Illness Is A Creepin' On A Come-Up LP


I'm sure most of the readers here are familiar with the story about Lemmy getting kicked out of Hawkwind. The story goes that after he got caught for having speed on him at the Windsor/Detroit border in 1975 "the most cosmic band in the world" gave him the boot because he was busted for the "wrong kind of drugs."

One part astral chug and another part all peach fuzz/dirtbag mustached saunter, Columbus, Ohio's Outer Spacist sound as if they're bangin' round town in a rusted eaten '73 Ford Ranchero on a hunt for such drugs.

Tough luck scoring the exotic and antediluvian analgesics, the band concoct a rocket fuel made from impure elements they've gathered to set their ride into space. It's a denotative propellant guaranteed to cause lift-off but it's not going to guarantee smooth rides into zoned out galaxies. It's a messy voyage led by an inebriated captain and an aberrant crew who only function properly when gravity isn't holding them down.

On songs like "Peripheral Visions" and "Gyrfalcon Flight" it makes for a trip that sound like a Spacemen 3 backing a non-absolutely asshole and totally partying down Ted Nugent at times.



Get your ticket to trip at Heel Turn records.

Aug 18, 2018

Smashin' Podsistors 39: Hot rods pre-cleaned real fine nicotine


With August humidity comes agitation. To cool it means oscillations. The whirring can be hypnotic. It can also be an irritant.


What you'll hear:
Crash Course In Science - Kitchen Motors
Midnight Mines - Stations
Pram - Ladder to the Moon
Counter Intuits - Vietnamese Lighter
Musical Linn Twins - Rockin' Out The Blues
-words from your host-
Cruelster - Why Did They Do That to Me Back Then
Marc Riley With The Creepers - Teacher Travel
Parsnip - It Couldn't Be True
Jefferson Airplane - 3/5 of a Mile in 10 Seconds
The Love-Birds - Kiss and Tell
-words from your host-
Caveman & Bam Bam - Let's Start A Fire
Cement Shoes - Fruity Funhouse
Lysol -Teenage Trance
Obnox - Broke Socialite
Ragtime Frank - Shake 'Em
-words from your host-
Donkey Bugs - Men in High Heels
Section 25 - It Don't Get
Arndales - Half Thrash
ADULT. - Irregular Pleasure
Chrome - The Monitors
-words from your host-

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Aug 17, 2018

CEMENT SHOES A Peace Product of the USA 7inch


I don't know if there's some sort of pipeline that runs between upstate New York and the Virginia coast. If there is though, it is something miasmic flowing through. The band Brown Sugar were from the former and Fried Egg the latter. Both sounded as if they led first era hardcore down some knurled path of their own but both also then went and showed it where the LSD trees grow.

A dizzying thrash of velocity that wobbled as much as it stomped all slathered in a sonic sort of feedback, both managed to create something absorbing from what is often hackneyed and cliche. Malcontents from both groups co-conspire as Cement Shoes.

Sounding like an MC5 or Stooges riff whittled down a jagged shiv after a night of biting nails and dodging tweakers, "Fruity Funhouse" is all tangled like someone threw mile long strands of wet seaweed into the pit. A mist of green slime hangs in the air.



"I Saw The Devil Again (Last Night)" presses the pedal to the metal. A bit of speed metal perhaps but mostly in an elongated trip where the Dwarves Blood, Guts and Pussy oozes puss over some dark and forgotten Randy Holden riff while a landscape of a burning city passes by in a blur outside the window.

Swim with the fish at Feel It records

Aug 14, 2018

LYSOL "Teenage Trance" 7inch


After a quick dalliance with the name L.I., Portland trenchant operatives scoff the risk of any cease & desist being landed on them and revert back to the name Lysol. Like the name brand of disinfectants they've chosen as their name, both rid germs away but the band does it with a heaping amount of scalding clangor instead of pernicious compounds.

Residing in an asteroid belt that's located between the triangular orbits of elastic punk, wooly garage rock and gangly hardcore, the sound is often dizzying and usually bumptious.

Akin to some proto-punk chugger shook up like a bottle of soda pop and then put on a sketchy looking carnival thrill ride, "Teenage Trance" makes a huge sticky mess when the cap is popped as it sprays, spit and spurts deliriously from front to back and side to side with wiry guitar clangs and a stuttering jackhammer rhythm.


"Chemical Reaction" isn't any calmer as it rattles and weaves with something that had me thinking "Hmmm, do I hear a surf chord there" as it started. It only took a second for that thought to be dashed when they were then answered with "Yeah, if cavepeople surfed on waves of fire."

Get cleansed at Neck Chop Records

Aug 8, 2018

Off Color Brewing's SPOTS


While visiting Chicago a few weeks back I ended up wondering to myself "What exactly is a Tiki Weiss?"

It was not a question I've asked myself before. There I was, perusing the beer shelves looking for some things not available in my parts to bring back home. With me was a list of Illinois breweries I found interesting and are not distributed to SE Michigan. Off Color was one of the names on the top of my list. I had a small sampling of some of their wares before and was curious to try some more. I must also note that my better half also enjoyed their brews not just for their flavor but for the fact they put mice, cats both big & small and other critters into their artwork and design.

I forgot to mention that the weather during the visit was like baking in humidity city. Nothing burly and brown, nor overly sticky hop oil armaments were striking the fancy.

"Hmmm. Tiki." I thought. "Tangy tropicals. Weiss? Light and lively. This may be the thing if summer keeps up like this."

Lemon in color with a muted haze and topped with a plump head that fades fairly fast, the tiki tinges rise up to the nose through a wheat grain and pils malt foundation. It's got some zip in the smell for sure.

What is essentially a Berliner Weissbier brewed with passionfruit and grapefruit peels, Spots tiki decree really comes through in the flavor.  The passionfruit takes front and center on the tastebuds initially with a zing. The grapefruit peel adds a cool funky accent to it. Through the middle, there are flourishes of melon, peaches and pineapple. The finish brings orange creamsicle notes intermingled with a mildly astringent linger.

We brought a four pack back with us. Over the past few weeks, they have all been drunk. There's still (hopefully) good six to eight weeks of summer weather. I won't be able to get to back to Chicago until at least the autumn so I'll have to get through it without any more of these. I'll be sure to be looking for what Off Color has done with whatever the season is in mind on that visit too.
Count the Leopards at Off Color Brewing

Aug 6, 2018

LIQUIDS Hot Liqs' Revenge LP


Upon the first couple listens of the album the thoughts of starting off this review by saying something like "cementing their scuffed up shoes in a place right between the most tattered and weirdest ends of early Midwest hardcore and the scorched pop of the Buzzcocks Another Music in a Different Kitchen, Indiana's Liquids...."

After a couple more listens I still felt my impressions of the record felt spot on to myself except for the "cemented" and the "place right between" part. Fronted by the Coneheads Mat Williams, it's more like the two aforementioned styles are not as much as an inspiration for the band's sound in as such things are simply instilled into their DNA.

Sure, the nasal wail in Mat voice does have an undeniable way of making people think Peter Shelly on especially on songs like "Wanna Throw Up (When I See Your Face)", "Talking On The Telephone",  and "Not Fun" but its a different kind of heat that is going on behind that voice.


It's not the warm blanket of rapid fuzz of ancient punk rock. It's much more prickly and itchy. Scratching at it is just gonna make it more raw and irritated which is probably the whole intent.

A same sort of attitude holds with the more "hardcore" leaning lobs of racket like the recording needle buried in the red burst of "Life Is Pain Idiot",  how "11 AM" sounds like it was deep fried in napalm and the grunt/stomp/grunt "Burnt Down Completely."




They're all blasts of pent of rage, but save for the later (which may even be a mocking ode to the tank top wearing, goatee sporting and fat "tough" guys who turned the sound into something to be heard in a gym rather than while riding a skateboard) have just as much in common with the Oblivians or the Gories than, say (for the sake of dropping an Indiana band in this review as a reference point), the Zero Boys.

With twenty songs on this record, it covers quite the trashy ends of the punk rock spectrum be it bashed up garage gunk or catchy hooks that use a contempt and an ire for squares as a catalyst. Hell, the record even kicks the shit of a Nick Lowe song. I like to think if he's heard the Liquids take on "Heart Of The City" he said "I never thought about it before but that's what the song needed."

Get aqueous at Neck Chop records.