Showing posts with label Italy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Italy. Show all posts

Feb 18, 2019

QLOWSKI Pure As Fear 7inch EP

Since I've gotten this record I've wondered how to pronounce the band's name. Is it Quelowski? Kwalowski? Kowalski? It seems no matter which way I say it sounds like I am talking about a maker of kielbasa that's based out of Hamtramck, Michigan.

Qlowski are not from Hamtramck though. They're originally from a rural part of Italy and now reside in London, England. And if asked to describe their sound, Polish sausage is not what comes to mind. What does though is that old Charles Atlas comic book ad. Except in this case, it's a twee band that transforms into a HE-MAN!

F'r instance, the jangle that shambles all over "Taking Control" and "Golden Boy" may seem all coy and a slight bit blurry, but it's played with a stamp of intrepidity. Keyboard lines and swells are abundant on both songs, setting scenes for icy celebrations.



The band doesn't just stick to such a sound that was signature to some of their obvious influences either. "Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder" has much of the songs before its oxygen flowing through it but there's also this Slits-ish and early West Coast new wave thing that binds it into a piece of its own particularness.

Get unadultered at Maple Death Records

Jan 9, 2019

TROPICAL TRASH/BRUTAL BIRTHDAY split 7inch


Finding words to describe the heaviness that Tropical Trash dish out can be a bit challenging. It's a burly sort of heavy that is adept at thick mud lumbering but also can pivot into flashes of constant swiftness with the blink of an eye. It's a heaviness that often has a metallic and glaring sheen to it but it's also something much more cosmic along with being quite venomous.

It's sensical to pin the punk tag onto the band for their attitude and approach and the sound is not punk in a way Sluggo Smith used the word. It's menacing and disturbing. It's also got a freakin' groove too which gives their songs different shades from each other rather than the same paint by numbers thing over and over.

For this go-round, Tropical Trash's side, "Last Night Straight", is like a hulking piece of earth moving machinery. One that has been covered in moss that got its hydration from spilled bong water. It's spongy and earthy at the surface but deeper in, its relentlessness covers quite a wide berth.



Being that at least one member of Italy's Brutal Birthday is from the cabal of guitar feedback habitues known as Hallelujah!, I expected a bit of loud volume worship and a ton of splatter and I was not let down. Swampy and unhinged, "Facts" buzzes and stings like its inside the most psychotic of hornet nests and gives off a feeling similar to being beaten with a chain and then crawling across a public restroom floor that Grong Grong once spilled an execrable concoction of a cocktail on.

Get you alliteration on at Maple Death

Feb 16, 2017

MISS CHAIN & the BROKEN HEELS Uh Uh 7inch

     If there's such a thing as Spaghetti Twang, the band that would get a lot of the credit for making it happen would be Miss Chain & the Broken Heels.
     To pinpoint when exactly these Italians mastered such a sound I am not sure of but when on their first visit to the US years ago, I like to think I played a little part in sparking it. It was summertime and I hosted the band for a few days. I was going through one of my occasional Waylon Jennings phases so anytime one of them was in my car or my kitchen they heard him often. I also booked them into a pole barn out in the woods and a fishing pond for a gig and a barbecue party. They seemed right at home and didn't want to leave.
     Now, this is not to say that the band has gone country be it "Alt" or "Bro" or anything but the sparkly and bright jangle they've always had has tilted ear to something a bit more rustic and rootsy more than a lot of bands that are pegged by most as simply a garage pop group.
     Broken Heels guitar player Silva pulls a crisp, ringing and reverby tone out of his six string that's akin to something like the Buckaroos Don Rich showing the kids how he'd play early Peter Buck riffs on "Uh Uh." Astrid's voice is like sweet cream and bourbon as it lands somewhere between a honky-tonk bar angel and a 60's girl lead. Behind them, the brothers Barcella swing the beat at a vigorous gallop.
      Things get a little moodier on "Standing The Night" in a way where you can feel some heartache and loneliness like on any good 1950's weeper but there also a sense that when dawn arrives, the sun may shine again.
Bachelor Records

Jan 19, 2016

HALLELUJAH! s/t 12inch EP

     The volume on my stereo was cranked up pretty high because I just got done blasting something else out. I wasn't paying attention how high though. I dropped the needle on this record and it probably looked like a scene for a cartoon. My hair blowing back from the sheer volume. Hell, my entire face being blown to the back of my skull even.
     Dealing in obnoxious feedback laden, blood splattered assaults, this Verona, Italy combo like to make things super, super loud and really, really ugly! From the first searing screeches and hollering of the song that bares the same namesake as the band it is made clear that they are wielding an aural circular saw their bound and determined to use it to lob off some craniums.
     Some songs here, such as the blink and you'll miss it "Homo" and the repeatedly barreling head first into a wall of flames pace of "Red Mestro", veer towards freakcore that boil with tension til they blow their stack. Others, like the "Power Of Cin" barrels like an engulfed in flames 18-wheeler flattening everything in it's path and "Space" debunks any theory that the galaxies black hole are not silent at all but are full of brain hungry galactic beasts.
www.facebook.com/hallelujahgesu

Aug 4, 2010

The MOJOMATICS "Love Wild Fever" 7inch

While some previous records by these Italian mojodudes touched these ears as Brian Wilson adoration stripped down and geared towards a cramped and sweaty dive bar instead of an orchestra pit the two songs here toss Brian Wilson thing to the side and make that cramped dive bar even more sweaty with some hyped up howl.
Loud harmonica wails upfront loud and proud set a rowdy mood for side one's touching on a young Pretty Things RnB stomper meets a county fair shit kicker "Love Wild Fever". Flip it over for "A Heavy Dose Of Sympathy", which has nothing to do with Long Gone John's late and lamented record label, and the mouth harp is gone but in it's place is the sound of some total farmer tanned hayseeds setting fire to a garage and the rock-n-roll that goes on it.
It not known if these guys mojo is from the hand or kept in a bag but however they're shaking it here can get a party started.
http://www.myspace.com/themojomatics