Sep 12, 2015

Smashin' Podsistors: Do They Really Come In Threes?


     Falling into to autumn all of a sudden with old noise from Public Image Limited, the Necros, Bantam Rooster, Cosmic Psychos and th' Faith Healers. New sounds from Dan Melchior's Broke Review, Raw Pony, Buck Biloxi and the Fucks, Flying Saucer Attack and Andy Human & the Reptoids. Other various bits of dissonance and melody tossed in for good measure too.

Sep 10, 2015

RAW PONY "Bo Diddley" 7inch

Photo by Danielle Petrosa
     Brandishing stripped to a primeval root drumbeats, guitars that whirr like shards of a beer bottle in a garbage disposal and a bass sound that's akin to a mudslide plowing down whatever is in it's way, Columbus Ohio's Raw Pony put a lot of emphasis on the RAW.
     What's starts out as a cover/homage to the song that Bo Diddley named after himself on the a-side quickly turns into something even ol' Bo couldn't have fathomed when he was trying to appeal to the young folks in the crowd that where coming to see him in the 90s by doing some cheesy, disco synth heavy rap about just saying no to drugs and yes to challenging Saddam Hussein to a fistfight. The case here is more like the Gories recounting very intense bouts of night terrors while kicking their way out of a tin shed full of hungry and feral cats in heat.
     "Shattered" (not the Rolling Stones or Exploding Hearts song) ups the cavewoman stomp by covering girl group melodies in sludge then trying sticks of dynamite to them. Light the fuse, run and then stand back to watch it splatter.
www.facebook.com/rawponyoh

Sep 5, 2015

Hideout Brewing's Batch 700: Imperial Gunman

     For many years I was serious about overhopped beers. I was all about the pine, the citrus, the weed, the bitters, the burn and so on but it was getting to a point with me where it some beers didn't even care about complexities or any other flavors. It seemed a quite a few brewers were in a contest to top each other on who could capture the flavor of spending a week having to eat yourself out of meadow and have that taste stick around for days, maybe even weeks, in the back of your mouth.
     It got ridiculous so started to keep away from the style, shifting my palate to other ones. Not because I was scared. It was simply because the antics of it all got stupid. It was gonna take something that cared something about more than being just hop juice to get me to try an IPA I hadn't before. Over the summer, Grand Rapids brewery Hideout had bottles of some of their wares (somewhat) showing up in my (somewhat) part of the state. Perusing the shelf I saw that this IPA promised heavy malting ALONG with a generous helping of hops. On the label it promised that the hop lover what they wanted but also something a bit more well balanced.
     "Hmmmm, a brewery that is making an IPA that remembers malt is still supposed to be tasted in the profile AND they're pointing out that there's more to it than just a hop explosion?" I thought to myself. "You're coming home with me."
     Pouring a musty, cloudy chestnut brown in color with a dense head that melts fairly quickly, leaving patchy lacing behind, there's a very earthy look to this beer. Smells of chocolate malt, candied fruits, dates, pecans along with lemongrass tinged hops stand out firmly on the nose, working in harmony instead of one of them feeling the need to push its way to the front.
     On first sip a slightly bitter than usual traditional barley wine comes to mind. Bakers chocolate, roasted coffee and dried figs serve as a backbone and the basic stricture that can be tasted all the way through the beer. The Amarillo and Zythos hops take steps into the limelight take solos that pay nods to black pepper, candied yams, orange peel and vanilla beans.
     The finish has a bit of bitter zing that hangs around the sides and the back of the mouth while the throat feels a bit of a warming rye whiskey and cocoa thing happening.
     With some new brewery popping up every day in this state its hard to keep track and even come close to trying everything. Hideout has been around for over a decade but just started bottling stuff the last year or so. They're a pretty small operation so their beers can be hard to find but things like Imperial Gunman along with some of the other beers they've been doing make them worth seeking out.
www.hideoutbrewing.com

Sep 3, 2015

Hot Love Returns to Port Huron's Roche Bar

     Back in April Ohio’s Hot Love came up to Port Huron and showed the city how to shimmy. Resembling a Kasenetz and Katz creation escaping the bubblegum factory and setting up camp in a junk yard filled with old stock car parts, their sound is groovy, gooey and raucous.
     The Legendary Assholes are a local supergroup of sorts. With members of the Hunting Lodge, Shame Exposure, the Feck, Skin Chiken and Forced Anger among their ranks they form a union of that have seen and heard it all and now just simply want to play loud and rock out.
     Ever heard of a prairie oyster? It’s a hangover cure made with a raw egg, Tabasco, Worcestershire sauce, pepper and gin. That’s what Screen Names tastes like, with a dash of sugar added. Punk for kids with feelings.
     This may be the last show I am setting up in Port Huron for awhile due to some other things I want to start working and concentrate on as well as a multiple of other reason. Come on out for the hurrah! More details over on those Facebook event thingies.

Aug 31, 2015

BIKES "Und Gut" 7inch

     Bands have emulatin' and celebratin' the laid back sleaze vibe of late 60s/early 70s Rolling Stones since, well, the Stones starting doing it. To name all the combos that have wondered what it would be like to hang out at Nellcôte and have the job of being chief doobie roller for Keith Richards and Gram Parsons would be a daunting task though. So for time's sake let's just say that Berlin, Germany's Bikes, for one side of this record at least, have scrawled their name on the list.
     "Two Mice" hazy chugs moves like the band is having a breakfast of fried chicken with a side of Chuck Berry and cocaine. It's a shabby countryfied blues groove has a certain sway but is tempered to keep from breaking too much of a sweat. If these guys ever visit New York City, they'll go on a hunt for those Puerto Rican girls they heard Mick Jagger banging on about that are dying to meet just so they can see if they really do bring a case of wine with them.
     The flip's "P.P.O.D." turns the fuzz knob up a bit, stomps the floor a bit stirs some drinks that's is ingredient thick on the Last's "L.A. Explosion" album and the first couple of Black Lips singles.
www.aliensnatch.de

Aug 30, 2015

Smashin' Podsistors 2nd Dispatch


     Another hour excursion into the music stacks here at Smashin' Transistors. This time around we have solid gold from the Swell Maps, Laughing Hyenas and Jessie Mae Hemphill. We've also got future hits from Phylums. C.C.T.V., Swiftumz and Royal Headache. A bunch of swell sounds in between too! 

Aug 28, 2015

The PACIFICS "Say You Love Me" 7inch EP

     On their Facebook page it says these guys hometown is Hamburg/Dublin. Whether they are really from both is yet to be determined but the sound they make is a cross the former, circa the hopped up on prellies Brit beat bands that played the Reeperbahn in the early 60s, with dabs of the latter's early punk rock with hooks vibe a la Radiators From Space. 
     Taking into consideration that the band's chosen name was also one that an early incarnation of the Mersybeats used, the former comes into play overall in the high geared R-n-B delivery of the four songs here but instead of, say where a band like the Kaisers did it way too purist and made me think I was listening to a rock-n-roll version of Civil War reenactors, the Pacifics seem to not worry if they get their clothes dirty and stained.
    The a-side's sprightly, floor filling pop detonation "Say You Love Me" and the garage punk stompin' "Little Girls" would sound just as in place, if not more, on the Spaceshits first album or some drunken' Real Kids live bootleg, as they would in some roots of the British Invasion documentary. 
     On the flip, "Girl, Girls Girls" wrings every bit of sweat from harmonica slathered Animals and Them songs and make something a bit more trashy than your usual juvenile delinquent 60s white kid blues in the process. They wrap up the party by trying to see if they can cause an avalanche in the Alps with the Freak Beatly/Surfish intro/screamer "Bavaria Bop." 

Aug 27, 2015

VIOLENCE CREEPS "On My Turf" 7inch EP

     This probably isn't a surprise to most but there are at least two factions of sounds declaring to be playing post-hardcore.
     The one faction dreams of playing the Warped Tour or some other big brand sponsored "fest" where getting showered in free sneakers, glow in the dark condoms and beard care products is a crucial part of their pay. The other gets kicked out of such events for carrying flammable materials and boxes of strike anywhere matches.
    The one side spends countless hours in the studio, crafting parts that sound like they are part of a math formula and then pile on a bunch of post production wizardry to convey some bullshit "we're so fucking heavy" sound. The other simply has someone set up some mics so they blasts through a few chords and full out rage all the through.
     One straight faced declares themselves post hardcore when asked what kind of music they play (probably because saying Algebra Metal with a whiny guy whining and a grunting guy grunting is too much of a mouthful) while the other probably just says they're punk rock.
     Oakland, California's Violence Creeps is in the latter group.
     The clanging chords and cardboard box drums that come immediately crashing out on the "Sex Menace" sound like nine year olds learning how to downstroke chords while obsessing over Sonic Youth's Bad Moon Rising. Then it's collapses into nervy, clunking basslines and scratchy guitars which give a sparse but harsh backdrop for singer Amber Feigel's hoarse bark to shove razor wire through the listeners ear and pull it out the other. As it heats up things start to splatter for a crescendo of striking cobras and electrical shocks. "Drop Out" then drops in for minute or so of blurry speed.
    A stuttery and stunted martial beat and a riff that resembles throwing a copy of Black Flag's In My Head on the floor so a lard slathered Ted Falconi can roll around on it. Then a ghost of someone who died of a lung infection trying to master Steve MacKay's sax lines on the Stooges Funhouse shows up with some some acid that is guaranteed a bad trip. It ends up sounding like the b-side's "On My Turf."
violencecreeps.bandcamp.com

Aug 15, 2015

Smashin' Radio Transistors Digest for August 2015


     Technology has been even more of a battle at ye ol' WSGR the last few months than usual. One of the biggest glitches has been in getting even a passable recording of my radio shows of recent vintage.
     My solution? Doing pretend ones for the internet only! Dig the first of what may become many Smashin' Radio Transistors Digest.

Aug 14, 2015

MR. CLIT & the PINK CIGARETTES "Wet Willy" 10inch

     If this Indianapolis combo had a job picking up people's trash they would not go around telling people they were sanitation engineers. They would proudly claim, in their best boozed up horror movie host tone, that they are GARBAGE (WO) MEN!
     Gurgling over with psychosis and sticky glops of camp, the bashin' about on some punk rock blues in tracks like "Be Home Before Dark" with it's hissing back up vocals seeming more like catty taunts, the spun way too tight boogie that's "Too Cute" and the reverberated head stomp that "Popping Bubbles" puts down resemble the Oblivians after spending a week hanging out with Japanese noise rock bands.
     At other times, such as squeeze box flourished chewy bop bouncer "What's Inside Your Lunchbox", the way the guitar on "Toy Gun" swirls like a thrash riff swimming in a birthday cake flavored vodka stupor and the B52s if they dug proto-metal more than surf music vibe on "Life's A Drag Queen", it's something like they're an AmRep band sustaining on a diet of cotton candy.
      Probably knowing all too well what goes on at the sideshow after the carnival closes for the evening, Mr. Clit & the Pink Cigarettes make a filth coated cacophony that has rats thinking twice before they go sniffing around the sewer these sounds spill into.   
     Wet-Willy is going to spend at least a good few months in my "GET DRUNK AND PLAY LOUD" pile.
https://mrclitandthepinkcigarettes.bandcamp.com