Showing posts with label cassette. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cassette. Show all posts

Jul 11, 2019

NO BAILS No Baios cassette

Photo by Dale Merrill
Did Michigan's dilettantes of wah-wah'd pizza party thud turn prog? It's been a few years since they last released anything so who knows, right. Perhaps they've been woodshedding or something brah.

Spotting a nine plus minute track on their latest cassette, No Baios may cause such alarm. Knowing the jokers these Michiganders can be though, a deeper investigation into such a matter needs to be conducted.

The subject in question is "Subbasement Rock." It's highly like that guys who have been sitting around studying things like the space between the notes of Rush's 2112 for decades ARE NOT going to be adding the song, a stream of consciousness featuring screeches, crashes, thumps, attempts to communicate with space aliens and, well, sub-basement jam traipses to their listening agenda any time soon.


If this tape just consisted of things such as that, Bails fans would be left scratching their heads at the very least and likely swearing off Jeno's pizza rolls too. There is very little for them to fret though. "Doin' Fine" top drawer/lo-fi Cosmic Psychos/Dwarves crud.


The song about skateboarding (as there should always be one on any No Bails release) here, "We Sk8", is gunky enough where an entire bottle of Bactine wouldn't stave off the infection from the road rash it sonically resembles. Then there's "No Thankyou Bite" which is the band getting all arty about hardcore.



Put a few extra bratwursts on the charcoal grill, stick this on the boombox and watch the neighbors give you glares of disdain.
Pop ollies over at  No Bails facebook

Smashin' Transistors gladly accepts tips!

Apr 24, 2018

LASSIE "YES! LIKE THE DAWG" cassette


New Wave. Not in a some platitudinous "planning a theme party" big hair/funny sunglasses/talkin' Valley Girl kind out of way. I'm talking truly bonified oddballs. Too freaky for the crowd that took theater class and boisterous and funny for the kids that always hung out in the art room. They may not be hip with the coolest and newest music out there, but everything they were into was a bit strange and usually listened to at a ridiculously loud volume.

That's the impression that Leipzig Germany's Lassie gives off. Party music that changes whatever the shindig's theme was just by them showing up. Hell, it not even fair to call it a shindig until these kooks show up. It was merely a gathering of windbags and imposters.

Straight off the band bums out the shiny, happy people with "Phone Calls On My Deathbed" by showing an affinity for leaving DEVO LP's out in the sun all day and then reenacting what it sounds like when it's put back on the turntable and played at 45 speed.


Once that jerkin' and jarrin' has cleared those squares off that dancefloor and, hell, out of the house in fact, it's time for Lassie to thumb their noses at them even more.

"Modern Vacation", which pokes jibes of the goofy ass kids who somehow become influencers on social media, is like a Sparks songs without operatic show tune bits with much more noisy mood swings and Segway references.

Yes, you heard that right. Segway references. They also wrote a song about the mall cop who rides around on one and whose job is to stop everyone's fun. Most likely he's not a fan of Métal Urbain or the Monkees so he won't appreciate the ode they penned for him.


"Tiger In My Tank" probably won't do much to improve gas mileage or performance of a set of wheels, but it's 1950's boppin' dropped into a fluorescent future that sci-fi writers have promised (yet still haven't really quite delivered on...yet) was probably written for a car chase set either on Mars or the most hyperactive animation series for the kids subsisting mostly on sugary snacks set yet.


I dunno about your neighborhood but mine could sure use a combo of loons like Lassie. I would then know that if I saw a flyer for a new wave dance party happening around town, it just wouldn't be some boor playing Howard Jones mp3's off his laptop.
Fetch it at the Bandcamp page.

Jan 23, 2018

BLOODY SHOW Let America Pay cassette


AMERICA EATS ITS YOUNG!

That's the first impression when holding the new Bloody Show cassette in my hand. From sleeve design which has to be an homage to the Funkadelic album of that name to the title of this thing itself, would be simple enough to think that. The sounds stuck to the magnetic tape here solidify those first impressions too. Not in so much that this is a freaky funk record (this is much more on the hard rockin' side of American proto-punk clobber that psychedelic booty shakin') but in a way that is a statement of how this nation is taken some way wrong turns again and a small group of creeps, assholes and full-on racists are steering the ship.

The Staccato punches that "Open Fire" throws convey the anger towards asshole cops and the revenge wished upon, while it's swirly grind is like the brain swimming from seeing red because of the much understood rage. A similar vibe fuels the grind on songs like "Trash" and "Red Penny." The former is like an aural version of bare skin wiping out at high speed and skidding yards down a gravel road. The latter a more slow-motion version of the same.



While most of the songs are caustic and deleterious to anyone with a positive attitude or viewing the world through rose-colored glasses, there's an almost rural Neil & Crazy Horse going on "Psychic Witch." I doubt though any braless, granny dress earth mama would appreciate the sentiment though. The sonic growl of it would be enough to make them hide under their pile of moldy and cat piss smelling David Crosby records.



"DUI" barreling drive has a great highway song thing going on but the circumstances that entail are just one of the reasons that the song probably won't appear on any road songs CD you'd pick up at a truck stop.


I've said it before and I'll say it again to every dimwit who made the claim "Well, one thing Trump will do is make punk rock good again." And that is "Fuck off." It's cats like Bloody Show's Jah Nada, who has more of a reason to be fed up than your coffee house philosophies and memes ever will. And he's been making punk rock for a good long time now.
Become part of the bloodshed over on Facebook

Sep 1, 2016

SEXY NEIGHBORS "Live At Shea Stadium" Cassette

     Trebly guitar that sounds like rubbers stretched over the top of a metal trash can and cranked through a 20 watt Gorilla amp. Vocals verge on puberty croaking pleas at 7am on some songs, like their take on the Country Teasers "Golden Apples" which sounds like some adolescent boys trying to gross out some girls behind the garage by making snot bubble and talking about getting warts from toad piss. On others, like the remedial class Black Sabbath fuzz stumbler "On The Wire" and the spasmodic blues riffed "Sevens" they're more like heavily medicated pro-wrestler on.
     Throw in a drummer that knows two beats (actually just one but it can be played fast or slow) and NYC's Sexy Neighbors probably have more people casting away their eyes than checking out any foxiness they may have been told they have. I think they would have it no other way.
www.facebook.com/sexyneighbors

Jul 26, 2016

NUMBSKULL ACTION Action & Reaction Cassette

 
     Numbskull Action are from Woking, Surrey. There's only two things I know about the place. One is that it was the first place the Martians decided to land in The War Of The Worlds. The other is that is where the Jam were from.
     For the latter, the comparisons stop after citing that both are trios with a penchant for songs of the 60's. The former though it is like they were beamed down to earth by waves emanating from Planet X. They were sent, if not to cause mayhem and panic, to at least destroy and annoy.
     Recorded live on a 4 track, the lo-fi crud licks the goo that oozes out of a corroded trashcan that sits in Supercharger's back alley on lunkheaded smashers like "Bad Advice (It's Not Nice)" and "I Don't Know Your Name". "It's Alright (If You Wanna Fight)" could probably send Billy Childish searching for earplugs while shouting "This is too loud and way ridiculous."
    When the band takes a break from desecrating Chuck Berry's grave (even though he's not dead yet) by mangling primitive rock-n-roll chugs and using a third chord only begrudgingly, their cutting bubblegum with buzzsaws with "Nothing Lost" and fashioning them into shivs or, like on "4 On 1" and "TV Commercial", writing some barking answer songs to a world that didn't know Oblivians needed any.
     Needless to say, this has lately become the soundtrack in the beat up, rust bucket of a van that I drive ONLY to work and back. Send these guys some money because I don't think they can hold down job because they're keeping busy with bathing in cheap beer and irritating the neighbors.
noteenrecords.blogspot.co.uk

May 8, 2015

BENNY and the ROIDS 2015 Demo Cassette

     The School of  '77 English punk rock played through a USA sleaze filter. Sure, we've all head the claim. And, if you're into that kind of thing, have felt duped when a band that gets showered with such a distinction ends up just sounding like KISS without the explosions or Mötley Crüe's Theatre of Pain album but even crappier.
     Calling Los Angeles home, Benny and the Roids are in one of the epicenters where such a declared sound come from and, more often than not, wind up more like those latter examples. It seems they've made a note of such shenanigans though and chose to walk a path that's paved with rusted barbed wire and shattered beer bottles.
     Sporting four mid-tempo Humpers via Chuck Berry via the New York blast it's all about rumbly bass runs, guitars that sound distorted more likely because they are being cranked up high through a battered amp that could catch fire at any minute than any pedal that might be in use and a singer that sways between gruff slurring and a throaty bellow.
     Toss in some gang vocal choruses and keep all the songs around a minutes and you got a the fixins of sordid night out at your favorite dive bar to see a live band.
     No, these guys aren't tearing down any walls but also sound like you don't have to ask them twice to help kick some holes in some drywall.
Download the demo here or just give it a listen.

Dec 27, 2014

The CONEHEADS "Canadian Cone" Cassette

     For years we've been hearing the words of warning about how technology will eventually decimate all human life. It's probably not gonna play out the way movies portray it where machines go on a killing spree though.
     What is gonna happen is most likely already happening. Phones that are way too smart. Cars that drive themselves. Hamburger being grown in a lab. EDM becoming the latest trend in country music. Never a need to think ever again. The machines have won. They're not going to destroy us with mechanical claws, balls of fire and gigantic meat grinding teeth. They'll just feed us synthetic thoughts til we're all "that kind" of Wal-Mart shoppers.
     There are hacks that came be done. Something that fools the machines into not figuring out that there are some short circuits. Indiana's Coneheads may know the code.
   Tightly wound bass blurt runs, squiggly guitar chopping and automatic rifle fire drums spit out reports of weirdos from Nowhere, America such as Dow Jones and the Industrials and Devo. A nasally voice robotically translates the data alien English. The information comes in at a ridiculously speed. Blink and you'll miss "Big City Baby" and "1982" f'r instance. Songs such as "Violence" and "I Used To Be A Cheesepuff" break the one minute point rival the Urinals in getting their disturbed point across in such a quick sliver of time. Not to mention that usually any band that covers a Talking Heads song will send me heading in another direction just to get away, the take on "Psycho Killer" here is as if the Tubeway Army got a hold of it (and 10 cups of coffee to to get the mood right.)
    Practicing curtness addled with a hyperactivity that may lead things to self destruct, these rumored to be still high school kids have cracks in their video screens. What leaks through those cracks is poison to most but serves as fuel for the Coneheads.
The Conehead releases are very hard to locate but you can cop a download of the Canadian Cone tape here

Feb 17, 2014

CITY YELPS "Cheap Psych" Cassette

     What if Red Lorry Yellow Lorry first few singles were recorded at a pizza party instead of having a cinderblock cell illuminated by a 50 watt lightbulb with a layer of road salt muck all over them sound?
     Or think about the kind of record Crispy Ambulance would have made in 1981 if they were much less dour, trimmed a lot of the unneeded fat from some of their songs and played them with might like they were headed into the eye of a storm instead of moping around in a damp mist.
     Now imagine if a variation of the above (along with some Swell Maps and Flying Nun sounds thrown in for good measure) was fronted by a guy who's former band sounded like the Sonics drunk on slugging back jet fuel and their muffler completely torn off. 
     Hailing from Leeds, England and fronted by Shaun aka the Hand of the Real Losers, the City Yelps take sound of very British DIY post punk back to the basement (after kicking down the stairs most likely) where it belongs but not before slathering it with week old french fry grease then washing off the excess with Carling Lager.
     The results make the chiming guitars sting from the spikes of ice they are lobbing off while the morose vocals have more than an obvious wink and smirk to make the listener want bray along and not worry who may be watching instead of the standard going into a bedroom and hiding under the blankets while joining in with a mumble and murmur.
     While every song has an unearthed in a long misplaced box at The Cartel's mail order department vibe to it-there's also a heavy doses of twisted subterranean noise pop blurs that make the songs stand out. That sets the City Yelps apart from some of the college radio hopefuls that want everyone to compare them to Joy Division but really just sound fey synth pop bands with hissy thin guitar sounds and some dude trying to impersonate a ghost on the mic.   
http://cityyelps.bandcamp.com/album/cheap-psych      

Jan 16, 2012

Radio Slaps "Music Is A Mistake" Cassette

     Now that punk rock has been around for 35 years (using 1977 as years zero though I know we could split hairs about it all day of when the technical start of it actually was) there's lots of wells that have been tapped.
     Some of them have been sucked dry while others are still flowing for a band to find hydration. From each well the water tastes different and it's always good to have variety.
     Elements of the early Rough Trade-ish DIY aesthetics, especially the wonderfully inept plonk of the Desperate Bicycles, comes to mind. Combine that with a bit of the 90's blurring into the 00's garage punk blasts served up by English denizens such as the Real Losers amped-up yowl and Black Time's everything from 60's french films to the kitchen sink swing & clang this with a little bit of the trash-pop-art-screech of things like Times New Viking, this London UK band has found wells they like very much to a point where they not only take a sip from them but submerge their entire heads too.
     Keyboard blurps that leave one debating whether that are awesome in their cheese or perfect in their obnoxiousness. The covered in fuzz guitar playing sounds it like was just learned to be played a few weeks ago, just found a third chord and has no intention of learning anymore because it has found it's bad attitude sweet spot and the drums believe the in the same ideas with a trash can tappity tap tap bash.
Yelping "we have no time for harmonies-we just gotta say what we want and say it loud" girl/boy vocals top it all off.  
     Some of the ten songs here sound so agitated that they might not only rattle themselves, but tape player they're being played on, apart. All of them though have that making noise in the basement punk rock spirit that lives and yells in a world beyond mall stores and giganto marketing schemes.
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Radio-Slaps/181423821913129

Oct 12, 2010

MMOSS "i" cassette

With a sound that hits more on London's UFO club circa 1967 than probably what is usually coming out of whatever rock dives they haunt in their home base of modern day New Hampshire USA-Mmoss make psychedelic music that smears that fine line of where a "normal pop sensibility" ends and the "what are these hippies experimenting with" questions begin.
With the basic guitar, bass and drum foundation being adorned by the band members multi-instrument know how of flutes, organs, cellos, glockenspiels, dul-sitars and ship bells (to name just a handful listed in the tape cover's j-card) the songs & sounds here can range from sublime and scenic to downright peculiar and stormy.
While some songs like "Grown Down", "So Below" and "Hedge Creeper" lean towards a Britania meet the Byrds in Syd Barrett's garden there's also the tinkering with Krautrock/Drone Trip on tracks like "And I Do Set My Bow In The Clouds" and "Epistle To Shon" as well as speculating on what it would it would sound like Big Star 3rd came out in '66 and had a seriously influence on the Small Faces on things like "Kitty Sorrow".
For those that find themselves playing some of the modern psych bands like the Black Angels and Sleepy Sun will be doing themselves a favor if they were to check their father's basement or thrift store for a functioning cassette player (or hell, even the junkyard so you can have one in your car) and then score a copy of this tape.
http://burgerrecords.webs.com/

Jun 21, 2010

the PIZAZZ "Get Out Of My House" cassette

All bands out there who consider themselves "pure pop" should quiet down for a minute and take some notes from Detroit's Pizazz. They know that you don't need layers of pro-tooled trickery and piles of overdub frosting. Sure, all that stuff makes everything all glossy & sparkly and we all know how shiny objects can entertain the simplest of minds but if the basic ingredients aren't of high quality all the doo-dads and added fluff that mask what is lacking. There has to be solid SONGS or all that stuff is just a dog and pony show.
Recorded on what sounds an 80's Tascam cassette 4 track machine (tape hiss, guitars occasionally cracking up in treble regions, the bass gnawing the entire low-end for seconds at a time) by Bobby Harlow of the Go (who pulled off the same kind of almost perfect loud "pure pop" record a couple years back with Howl On The Haunted Beat You Ride) the twelve songs here are not any audiophiles dream but they don't need to be. It isn't one of those "Let's be deliberately lo-fi and pinned deep past the red line" affairs. The recording do have that "Let's set up in the bedroom/basement/family room" quality to them but it sounds like they made the best of attempts to get the top quality out of situation regardless. The hooks are catchy, the harmonies soar and the songs are solid.
Commingling (mostly) the Nuggets boxsets (the Euro and more recent L.A. one than US and San Fran ones to get a little more specific) and the Beach Boys with Britpop and the Byrds-the Pizazz serve up the Move baroque pop moves song like "Benjamin Woodruff" and "Plan B", provide the soundtrack for summer daydreaming on tracks like "Ocean Liner", "Jenny Says" and "Dolphin Patrol", make up a batch of backyard psych on "Living Like Animals" and get all loud sounding like the prime moments from Ride's first couple EP's on "Heartaches and Heart Attacks."
I have a feeling I could end up wearing out this cassette pretty fast. Anyone put this stuff out on vinyl? If not-someone should.
http://www.myspace.com/thepizazzcare

Jun 4, 2010

KOMMIE KILPATRICK "Weird City" casette and "Life Sucks 2" CDR

You say the name Kommie Kilpatrick around these parts and it's greeted with excitement and cheers. Not because the band is a household word or anything but because it's a pretty funny play on the name of the former Detroit mayor who thought he was Teflon coated hip-hop superstar and anything he did wrong or bad wouldn't stick to him. Well, after having to resign from his mayoral gig, becoming a convicted felon and numerous probation violations which have now led him to one and a half to five years in Jackson State Prison even most of his staunchest supporters (the small handful he had left) are even thinking "Damn, what a dumbass".
The name is appropriate for the band too because they aren't in any way trying to sound like any kind of deep thinkers or or statement making intellectuals. Nope, they want to get drunk, get loud, maybe get in a fight, maybe even get laid and make it back home in one piece at about the same time the sun is coming up. Kinda like their namesake but without the police escort and strippers getting snuffed out for knowing too much.
The classic USA dumb punk sound of the Angry Samoans "Back From Samoa" and the Circle Jerks "Group Sex" play big into their sound. Quick blasts of obnoxiousness, most of the songs just barely top the one minute mark and a good number of them are over and done in half that time, about bad food, bad beer, bad hangovers, bad driving, bad luck and girls with bad, bad reputations that even these lunkheads have to think twice before taking the back to their place. Of course they DO take them back to their place but hey, they at least thought twice before they did. PUNK ROCK!
http://www.myspace.com/kommiekilpatrick