March 4, 2010

Cheese

Copyright © 2010 Rick S. Hall.

The Cheese Band – “I Like Cheese”

Rick at 1:57 pm

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February 22, 2010

A Current Affair

There’s this band from Melbourne, Australia called the Eddy Current Suppression Ring that rocks the fuck out live, people say. Don’t believe those people? Go on YouTube and do a search; you’ll see a lot of audiences going all goo-goo and having fun. I won’t tell you which video to watch. There’s a million of ‘em.

Oh, all right. Watch this; it’s a cute seaside video of the song “Which Way to Go,” which I like a great deal.

ECSR all met while working at a record pressing plant, and their first (self-titled) LP came out in 2008. Since then, these polite, clean-cut lads have released a second album called Primary Colours. Order it direct from Goner Records in Memphis, USA. The band appears to be always touring worldwide, so check out their band page for dates. There’s more music there as well. They’ll have a new record titled Rush to Relax out in March sometime.

Ladies seem to like the singer, Brendan, not only because he’s a nice-looking kid, but because he’s notoriously shy (supposedly Brendan took to wearing his signature biker gloves to overcome stage fright) – thereby wrapping up the daughters and the moms in one easily-swooned demographic. One thing that’s remarkable about this band is their humility and levelheadedness. They didn’t start off with the rockstar attitude, so now it’s harder to dismiss their growing success as mere hype-fueled puffery. And they’re Australian, which is always a good sign.

The music… I picked the first song from their exciting debut full-length. It’s refreshingly rock ‘n’ roll. It’s simple and it grows on ya. Give them a listen, won’t you?

Eddy Current Suppression Ring – “Get Up Morning”

Rick at 12:01 am

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February 1, 2010

Parasite

Copyright © 2009 Rick S. Hall.

Peter Peter & Kyed – “Acoustics of Crime”

Rick at 2:47 pm

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January 31, 2010

Tunnel of Love

Here, the pride of Brookline, Massachusetts – power trio Tunnel of Love – covers an obscure blues tune. These fellas put on a great live show. Go to their MyFace page here to see insane live videos and find out where ToL can be seen in person, if they haven’t already broken up due to the immutable physical laws of the universe.

Tunnel of Love – “Hey Joe”

Rick at 5:54 pm

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January 17, 2010

Road Trip, Y’all!

Outrageous Cherry – “Pale, Frail, Lovely One”

Rick at 8:32 pm

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October 19, 2008

Hacienda

Here is a band named Hacienda; this rock-steady rocker is from their Loud Is the Night CD on Alive/Total Energy Records. Check out the amazing bass work and the cute latinas.

It looks like these guys might be blowin’ up. We can only hope.

Hacienda – “She’s Got a Hold on Me”

Rick at 6:52 pm

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September 18, 2008

Headache City

Here’s a band I have never seen and know relatively little about. However, their music rocks my goddamn balls. This site is therefore incomplete without a plug.

They are called Headache City and they hail from Chicago. During my grand Illinois trip last year, my pal Melissa (who currently grooms the future Midwest rock ‘n’ roll hotties and poets of the coming decade through her Chicago little girls’ rock camp) loaned me their full-length self-titled CD. You know what happened next (hint: it involves my goddamn balls – see above).

The Headache City sound is a little bit garage and a little bit punk, but instead of the chaos or potential blandness of the latter they have substituted a steady pounding authority. It’s simple, catchy and unusual, yet there’s room for lots of variation. Could I get any more vague? Put it this way: Having never attended their gigs, I picture a few of their fans twirling like Ecstasy-addled hippies at a rave and still others solemnly headbanging like the crowd at an Emperor show. Anyway, it’s all real hooky and very fun, even during midtempo bum trips like “Tearjerker.” If you ask me, the band’s namesake song is the hit side – a hard charging, infectious, straight-down-the-middle anthem.

The City currently consists of Mike Fitzpatrick (guitar, bass, vox), Dave Head (bass, vox, guitar) and Lisa Roe (drums, vox). The player of groovy synth on the album is Norah who also runs the label Shit Sandwich upon which the full-length was released (as well as some of their singles). Norah is apparently no longer in the band… my sources can’t tell me when or why… so I think they’re a three-way now. Go hit the MySpace if you want more, better info.

Two of HC’s members (Lisa and Mike) also play in the fierce farfisa group Cococoma who are quite punishing on the aforementioned balls as well. They have a new-ish LP out on Goner Records, one of our favorite labels.

So that’s it. And now, if after skimming the previous text, you actually want to download these songs and listen to this fine, fine band, perhaps even purchase their records and “support” the “scene,” then I have succeeded in my mission. Hooray for public relations!

p.s. All photos shamelessly stolen from the band website and defaced by me.

Headache City – “Headache City”

Headache City – “Ha Ha”

Headache City – “Tearjerker”

Headache City – “Down the Drain”

Rick at 12:35 am

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March 28, 2007

Shibuya Bound

Bye bye for the next couple of weeks… I’ll be over in Tokyo, getting showered with cherry blossoms, attending noise-rock shows and sleeping in the finest of capsule hotels. Not like I would have updated much anyway, but hell, if you’re still reading this blog I suppose you’re owed an explanation. A weak one.

To balm those injured feelings, enjoy this tune from Canada’s Del-Gators. It’s taken from the 2001 Pound Down! CD on Sympathy; the band featured King Khan’s cute sister Cocobutter Khan as well as other garage royalty. While you listen, picture me soaking in a sento bath. Don’t worry, there will be photos.

The Del-Gators – “Move Mr. Man”

Rick at 3:42 am

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February 13, 2007

Fucking Up is Hard to Do

Did anyone notice I was away, studying Japanese, trading CDs and wallowing in my own wastes? I hope so; a fella likes to feel noticed, even when he’s hiding in a dark apartment. Welcome to my world!

Let’s see… Whoa. Six weeks since my last post of any literary substance! S’pose it’s time to type some words again. And just so’s you don’t call me shiftless, here are some curious videos I uploaded to YouTube: douzo. I’ve also been spending my listening time on certain popular artists (like Cat Stevens) it might’ve been inadvisable to post about, given the current confused copyright climate (How’s that for an excuse? It’s all the fault of lawyers). Finally, in other Internet news, you can click on that right photo of the Goddess Bunny for additional pictures captured on my recent travels, proving that a hipster’s life is bigger than bloggery.

Upon first listen, this 1995 Blag Dahlia EP with Tania Hearst on the cover entitled Venus With Arms is not as good as the best of the Dwarves’ albums. Apparently this was released during a two-year period when the actual Dwarves band was temporarily nonexistent due to drugs and some silly shenanigans with their record company; I wasn’t paying attention at the time. Anyhow, I was just about to chuck this CD into the trading pool when I played the fifth and last song, and suddenly my dick got hard. “Theme From the Vicelords” contains all the most lovable elements of the Dwarves: short, loud, filthy and fast, clever lyrics from the perspective of a self-described loser asshole, over-the-edge macho posturing with a sense of its own ridiculousness, anthemic chaos and Blag’s high-energy sneer – topped off with a completely retarded guitar phase-shifter siren sound in the second half. That’s comedy, my friend. I also dig the wooden Streets of San Francisco-style voiceover intro.

Sure, not everyone agrees with this assessment, but that’s why I have this bully pulpit – to bully you with my personal opinions. Let me point out that this is my second post in two months with the phrase “Fuck Up” in the title.

“Everywhere that we go / Everybody knows / You only can trust us / As far as you can throw…” Sing along with me, dammit.

Blag Dahlia – “Theme From the Vicelords”

Rick at 6:06 pm

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December 23, 2006

Fucked It All Up

Merry Christmas, goddamn it! Holidays mean nothing to me except for an unwelcome disruption, and this year, a long drive to Fresno to visit with the family. At best, it’s an opportunity to do some xmas shopping at Wacko and ogle that gorgeous Asian girl with the multiple lip piercings. Anyway, it’s not too late to buy me a present, if that’s what you’re into…

The Black Diamond Heavies are a neo-bluespunk duo that play a gimmicky but irresistible, stripped-down, raw, swinging kind of music that’s a little less highbrow than the Black Keys and a lot more cultured than Blues Hammer. They were apparently a three-piece until last March, when the guitar player quit the band, but have honed their crowd-rousing skills (before & since) by relentlessly touring everywhere, except where I live. I’ve never heard their earlier first record, but I aim to.

The first thang about the Heavies’ sound that grabbed me was the booming, overmodulated Hammond bass drone that is a signature of their best tunes. It’s just a kick-ass blast of unrefined low-frequency sugar that makes John Wesley Myers’ precision burbling rhythmic organ riffs sound fresh. The drummer, Van Campbell, plays straight-ahead rock stomp with a twist of swing, except when it’s time to tone it all down for a quiet number. Some songs work better than others, but I can attest to the entire album’s solidity and staying power (i.e., you can listen to it more than twice without getting bored). It’s not often that I get hold of a band’s advance material (thanks, Patrick!), and like it, and get a chance to share it with my loyal 14 web readers. The two songs here are taken from a CD called Every Damn Time that will hit “the streets” in five weeks. Have a taste.

Of all the latest roots-punk singers that fall into the Captain Beefheart cookie-monster blues shtick, Myers is “one of the good ones.” There’s soul up in there. He’s also a member of the Immortal Lee County Killers. Sure, if you reflexively hate the crazy cool modern phenomenon of white boys playing a kind of reverse race card – something that falls between old-negro-worship and self-parody – why then, you’ll hate this too. But then, y’all probably hate punk rock, the Gories and the Oblivians. Fuck y’all. The rest of us will definitely be picking up this choice nugget at the end of January.

Black Diamond Heavies – “Fever in My Blood”

Black Diamond Heavies – “Leave It in the Road”

UPDATE 2-6-07: The lovely Rick Saunders has uploaded some YouTube videos of a stellar Heavies in-store performance last week in St. Augustine, FL. Check out parts ONE, TWO & THREE!

Rick at 9:34 am

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November 8, 2006

Why I Don’t Drink

The Candy Snatchers are from the Norfolk, Virginia / VA Beach region of the Eastern U.S. They’ve toured all over the place.

This post will be about the Snatchers’ early 1990s career, since that’s what I know and love. It started as a mild romp of nostalgia, then turned into one of those giant, painful, research-intensive projects that makes me wanna curl up under the covers. Doesn’t matter. Scroll down. I know y’all only want the mp3s, anyway.

My ol’buddy Squeaky (now web-publishing under the more dignified nom de plume “Sq. Dave”) has a blog called Rockin’ Monkey. He was probably the one who originally introduced me to the band, and especially their crazy live shows. Every time the Candy Snatchers played NYC, it had the feel of a violent but friendly homecoming party, an exotic mix of the city’s more open-minded garage kids, rockers and bonehead punx getting trashed and bumping into each other. One time an unknown group of Brooklyn crust-bums showed up at the Continental, overcoat-smuggling a huge dead fish. It immediately got kicked, swung and tossed around the dance floor until everyone found themselves covered in a rotten film of bloody fish guts. (One of the perpetrators of this vile deed can be seen on the back cover of the Pissed Off, Ripped Off, Screwed CD.)

Even aside from such audience participation, the band’s tried-and-true array of destructive gimmicks kept the bookers guessing. Depending on mood, singer Larry May or axer Matt Odietus would sometimes cut their own scalp, ‘70s pro-wrestler style – up by the hairline or wherever the blood would flow most effusively. Once, at CBGB, Matt bled out so much he almost fainted, and eventually had to be carted off to the ER with a t-shirt turban wrapped around his noggin. Larry would smash glass bottles at random. Willy used lighter fluid to set his bass on fire, with the aid of excited audience members who’d often get outta hand with the flammables and torch Willy himself. Drums were routinely collided with and obliterated.

The song, however, was Job One. At any given moment in the set, Larry’s mic might be out in the crowd, the cord wrapped around three people’s necks; Barry might have nothing but a snare and Willy could be down to his last string and in flames. But as long as any two band members were still in play (sometimes only one), the machine kept a-rockin’. I came to love those insane minimal interludes in the set – when any normal band would have stopped the show, the Candy Snatchers combine kept banging away like an injured, high-speed locomotive.

They take their name from a very cool, obscure exploitation movie. After you see it, you’ll know that an ear is worth more than a finger.

The guys in the group talked amazing amounts of shit to one another. Drunken rehearsals occasionally turned into alley fights; alcohol and drug abuse were omnipresent. (Since I’d opted out of the chemical scene, I probably only glimpsed the tip o’ the iceberg). If you want war stories, poke around here! But they were always extremely generous hosts, and great friends to me and mine. I’m getting a little misty… thinking back to my own band’s performance, in front of a packed beach bar full of Norfolk crazies who went apeshit when we got to share the bill with their hometown heroes. Magic moments.

I kinda lost touch after moving to the West Coast. I saw ‘em play a couple of times in L.A. and Long Beach, but the vibe wasn’t the same, mainly because their shows only drew sparse crowds of macho meatheads, and there wasn’t a chick in sight. Hey, go ahead and chalk it up to old age, but without ladies, there’s not much reason for me to leave the house.

Now Willy’s out of the band, pursuing a life of drugs. Matt is still the guitar hero (back in the mid-’90s he and his girlfriend Andrea published a really good rock ‘n’ roll ‘zine that I can’t find right now) and Larry’s killer vocal chords are well in the game. Sgt Stash is maybe the longest-lasting of a long series of drummers. Barry Johnson (a very cool guy) drummed on these songs, but is now dead. Over the last decade or more, the boys have put out a suitcase full of records. What’s below are from the aforementioned Pissed Off, Ripped Off, Screwed collection of great early singles, and the self-titled debut LP produced by Dean Rispler, who wrote a much better bio of the band than I just did: here.

The Candy Snatchers – “Pinto Pony”

The Candy Snatchers – “Buzzsaw”

The Candy Snatchers – “Motion”

The Candy Snatchers – “Nightcrawler”

The Candy Snatchers – “Pain Stains”

And here’s a beautiful little video to one of my fave May/Odietus compositions. ‘Twas filmed and edited way back in the day by Joanne (formerly of the Hot Corn Girls and Kill Fuck Kill):
The Candy Snatchers in “Why I Drink” (.mov file, 25 MB)

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While you listen, try drawing your own intestine using this ridiculous Flash tool.

Rick at 1:39 am

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