Showing posts with label magnetic south. Show all posts
Showing posts with label magnetic south. Show all posts

Jun 27, 2015

Thee TSUNAMIS "Saturday Night Sweetheart"

     Sounding like a band John Waters called on Herschell Gordon Lewis to find for an upcoming film is no small feat. Sure, a combo here and there could fit such a role in the past in in the now it could be a little tricky.
     With a tough black leather exterior and heart of chewy gooey bubblegum it as if Bloomington Indiana's Thee Tsunamis were born to play the part though. Taking a girls gone bad in the garage form and giving it enough twists and turns to keep the trip interesting rather than stopping at all the same burger stands those before them pulled the car into.
     Whipping a big scuzzy ball of fuzz as introduction, lead off track "Female Trouble" is punk rock attitude, a grungy bounce and flirts with you while shoving a knife in your gut. This bad egg disposition holds its place like a beehive 'do plastered with two cans of Aqua Net on songs like the motors missing mufflers rev up at surf beach "Drag", the frat organ blurted and serpentine guitar wiggled "Skip Tracer", the Everly Brothers date daughters of the devil on "Dummy", "Shakee Jake" hopped on on Bo Diddley buzz and strychnine laced candy apple that's "Trash Talk." The already spiked fruit punch also get laced with something a bit more mind melting on"Kill Kill Kill" and the Cramps via labelmates Apache Dropout distorted roar of the album's title track
     With all this stompin' going on though even the most brassy need to let their guard down once in awhile and they don't hesitate to let the waterworks flow on "Crybaby."
www.magneticsouthrecordings.org

Dec 29, 2014

Smashin' Transistors Fave Albums of 2014

     Another year, another list. Never definitive but still throwing the hate in the ring for the sake of opinion. Some I got around to write about. Others I didn't. None the less here's the 20 albums, listed in alphabetical order, that seemed to be listened to and enjoyed the most around Smashin' Transistors Ground Zero in 2014.  
-Dale


The Achtungs Full Of Hate (Going Underground) Take standout tracks from the European band KBD/Bloodstains comps and put the blender on puree. Record it all (including the sound the blender makes.)
goingunderground.storenvy.com

Apache Dropout Heavy Window (Magnetic South) Read Smashin' Transistors review here.

Brain Flannel Empty Set (Grave Mistake) Read Smashin' Transistors review here.

DeGreaser Rougher Squalor (Ever/Never) Towering and dissonant psych. Not the flowers and sunshine psych but the kind that dwells in the darkest parts of the mind.
degreaser1.bandcamp.com

Gino and the Goons Shake It (Slovenly) Read Smashin' Transistors review here.

Good Throb Fuck Off (Sabermetric) Soaked in venom and full of disdain.The sound of smashing the Poison Girls albums to bits and then reassembling it's jagged shards back together in a choppy (non) fashion.
goodthrob.tumblr.com

The Gotobeds Poor People Are Revolting (12XU) Read Smashin' Transistors review here.

Honey Radar Chain Smoking On Easter (Third Uncle) Syd Barrett's ghost, Flying Saucer Attack's melancholy and Television Personalities whimsy leave magnetic tape dust all over the recording heads of this battered bit of 4-track know how.
honeyradar.com

Iceage Plowing Into The Field Of Love (Matador) J.G. Ballard writes a romance novel with the Bad Seeds The First Born Is Dead and a lot of heavy breathing in mind as an aural soundtrack. Then Gun Club steal the manuscript under the cover of night.
iceagecopenhagen.eu
Martyr Privates s/t (Fire) Read Smashin' Transistors review here.

Meatbodies s/t (In The Red) Psychedelic pop that has one foot wiggling it's toes in the sand a sunny day at the beach and the other doing kicking at neon glowing brain monsters.
www.facebook.com/Meatbodies

Mordecai Neil's Generator (TestosterTunes) The disarrayed clatter that made the messes on Mordecai's first two albums has been swept into neat piles here. The fidelity is still blown and the music still ramshackle but the concept of obvious melodies now more digestible.
paperhose.tumblr.com

Musk s/t (Holy Mountain) Read Smashin' Transistors review here.

No Bails Epyx Shredder (Pelican Pow Wow) Michigan scientists conducted a test on the effects a diet of 80s basic cable, food from greasy college town eateries, cases of Keystone Light and Cosmic Psychos records would have on a person. This album is their findings.
No Bails on Facebook

Obnox Louder Space (12XU) Read Smashin' Transistors review here.

PYPY Pagan Day (Slovenly) Read Smashin' Transistors review here.

Space Raft s/t (Dusty Medical) Read Smashin' Transistors review here.

The Sugar Stems Only Come Out At Night (Dirtnap) Read Smashin' Transistors review here.

Vacation Club Heaven Is Too High (Magnetic South) Read Smashin' Transistors review here.

The Yolks Kings Of Awesome (Randy) Read Smashin' Transistors review here.

Oct 11, 2014

APACHE DROPOUT "Heavy Window" LP

     The sound of being moonstruck on a very humid night.  Over the course of three albums in the past three years, a few singles during that same period of time and a cassette from 2008) it's statement that Indiana's Apache Dropout could put on their business card and no one would even bother to question it.
     While their records vibrate with a wiggly racket of wolf call yelps, dingy fuzz guitar and a ramshackle rhythm section that likes to stomp and kick as much as it can but will also lay low and sneak up on it's prey when needed, Apache Dropout have a sound that nods the Cramps soaked in echo psychotics and the blood drenched swampiness of the Scientists, yet has become distinctively their own.
     "Sitting Around" starts the record off sounding something akin to a deranged hillbilly sitting in the passenger seat of a badly beaten pick up truck and chanting and ranting things while turning the ignition. It growls, it grinds, it spews the smell of old burnt oil. Once running the pedal is kept to the floor to hear the rotted out header pipes make a rumbled roar.
     Sounding something like getting the bed spins while waiting for a 36 hour LSD trip to wear off while people in the other room watch b-movies and play surf records at a distorted levels the album's woozy title track is next, piling up the grit and grime higher.
     Though all the songs here cram the recording tape with enough fuzz to make even a forest full of cottonwood trees during the late spring shedding season stand back and say "DAMN!", it's not all just distorto-caveman stomp going on.
     "Movie Magic" and "Crystal Ball" respectively elbow candy coated psychedelia and blue collar new wave into the nervy rattle-shakin', "Little Georgie" and "Radio Double Agent" sound like they're booming out of dive bar jukeboxes on Mars, blasted on some blown out speakers "Detective" could get dropped between a Cheap Trick and Slade song and most people would be none the wiser and the album's closer, "Space Age", takes the sound of a 50s teenage ballad and gives it a sense of pent up desperation that those oldies they heard on an uncle's console stereo when they were kids could only hint at.
www.magneticsouthrecordings.org

Sep 11, 2014

VACATION CLUB "Heaven Is Too High" LP

     Sun kissed and misted with with something tipsy, Indiana's Vacation Club have been tooling flower bright pink and phlegm green colored bit of disturbed jangle for a few years now. The singles they've had released have given off the ol' angel on one shoulder/the devil on the other vibe resulting in a sound that fed the ears with something that felt like a confectionery fluff.
     It seems all airy, light and sweet. Then the burning sensation and blistering sets in.
      On this, the band's first long player, as soon as teeth sink into a sounding like something on Budda Records circa '68 going on a fuzz binge candy coated outer shell the fortified with splinted glass oozy filling starts seeping into the saliva glands and then bloodstream.
    Backed up by splattery guitars that blast off from an echo chamber of dampness where a ne'er do well rhythm section hold down a fort, Vacation Club's Samuel James vocals resemble, depending on the song, something like childlike stupefaction and snotty teenage degeneration.
     While the sound here is working within the framework of juvenile delinquent garage rock of nearly five decades ago with the lips smacking bubblegum sound of a few years later factored in, Vacation Club bring a bit of Midwest/Corn Belt out of stepness that sets itself away from a recent crop of drowning in reverb bands who sound like spent a week listening to the Jesus and Mary Chain and the Black Lips then sent a demo to Burger Records. A martian robot march makes the album's opener "Gas Station" and "In My Eyes" guitar sludge landslide sound something akin to Wire's Pink Flag on a steady diet of chili fries, "Hound" and "Chip Taylor Nightmare" ring of King Tuff's first album if heard coming through a sewer pipe. Along with that, the songs that would sound like high school desperation bloooze stompers in the hands of a lot of other bands, like "Pyramid Culture", "Oh, Patty" and "Rats As Rats" wring out twisted melodies that make one wonder if the Jolly Rancher they've been sucking on has been laced with something illicit.
www.magneticsouthrecordings.org