BIG
WILSON RIVER - Octopus (bigwilsonriver.bandcamp.com)
Part of the Black Trunk Records collective from
Bergen County, Big Wilson River is yet another group
of Jersey kids making rootsy Americana that references
everything from the early Who to X. They call themselves
"thrash punk" which comes as close as
anything to capturing both the energy and earnestness
of what they do. "Eighty Dead Armadillos"
is Hank Williams by way of "My Generation,"
"Gypsy Song" mashes up Kurt Weill/The
Doors' "Alabama Song" with Tom Waits,
"Backyard Passout Fest" sounds like something
Michael Hurley meets Nick Cave. Darrin and Emma
(no last names anywhere I could find) mix and match
lead vocals, backed by big loud guitars, thumping
bass, and thrashy drums. It's folk rock for people
who like mosh pits. It's really, really good too.
BANQUETS
- Top Button, Bottom Shelf (Black Numbers)
Of the four bands whose names start with "B"
in this column update, Jersey City's Banquets stand
out as the one that someone listening across the country
might peg as the Jersey band. As he did during his
stint in New Brunswick's Let Me Run, singer Travis
Omilian channels Gaslight Anthem's Brian Fallon with
his throaty all-American inflections. Add to that
a hearty helping of gang vocals, big crunchy riffs,
and lyrics that both celebrate youth while mourning
lost innocence . As they did on their promising debut
7-inch release "This Is Our Concern, Dude,"
the band shows a flair for memorable song titles (just
"Me And My Canseco Rookie Card" says more
about being 25 than any three Copyrights songs, if
you read between the lines a little) and the band
writes inspired ear-wig choruses that are tailor-made
to be drunkenly sung in moshpits. Today, New Jersey;
tomorrow, the coolest basement in your town. And after
that, who knows?
BRIGHT
& EARLY - "Louder Than Words" (Pacific
Ridge Records)
I'll probably go to my grave a grumpy, bitter old
man still insisting that New Jersey pop punk died
with the Ergs, and these whippersnappers carrying
on (and "defending") the genre today are
just whiny emo brats whose singers over-emote and
who wouldn't know real punk rock if Milo hit them
over the head with Mike Watt's bass. Bright &
Early do stand out as a something of an exception
though; last year's "Something's Personal"
was a courageous scene manifesto, dissing the glorified
boy-band pap of All Time Low and lamenting the lost
days of bands like Midtown. Singer John Browne could
trade in his flannel and skinny jeans for a role
on Glee if he wanted too; the kid has real pipes,
as he proves on the acoustic opener "Stick
By Me," with its faultless falsetto. The other
three tracks strike more of a modern pop punk pose
with chunky chordage, catchy melodies and riffs,
with Browne hitting lots of high notes; the whole
thing is way more Saves The Day than Screeching
Weasel, but that's clearly the path pop-punk is
taking, and so be it. Bright & Early seems more
than capable of stretching the boundaries a little;
"Selling Yourself Short" shows some very
sharp songwriting chops, and while much of this
is prettier than anything I'd label punk, the band
does show a few welcome rough edges here and there.
BOY
THINGS - EP (boythings.bandcamp.com)
This Hackettstown quintet sounds a bit like a Jersey
version of Los Campesinos that's been listening
to a lot of B-52's. It's delightfully upbeat, a
bit dancey, and in places, a tad camp, with intertwining
male and female vocals and gobs of youthful energy.
Like London's Yuck, the music has a new-wave vibe
yet isn't purposefully retro; it will, however,
have you bouncing off the walls with glee. Where
has this band been hiding? I hope to hear a lot
more from them in 2012.
SETTLE FOR LESS - "Contemporary" EP (settleforless.bandcamp.com)
I have to apologize for taking so long to getting
around to this 3-song EP from South Jersey's Settle
For Less, self-released last Spring. But I'm glad
that I finally heard it. The young quartet plays
powerful brand of post-punk that reminds me a bit
of a less emo Thursday. It's not really grunge (and
doesn't in the least sound 90's retro) but I'm guessing
the guys have listened to their share of Nirvana
(and that's always a good thing.) The band eschews
the usual verse/chorus pop-punk formula for roiling
guitars and intense vocals. This is at heart a rock
'n' roll that's not pandering to any of the usual
teen formulas and that's refreshing to hear. The
next time they put somethingh out (and I hope that
it's more than just three tracks,) I'll be right
on it.
PLOW
UNITED - SLEEPWALK: A Retrospective (Paper+Plastick)
Does a barely remembered 3-piece pop-punk band
from Delaware really deserve a two-disc retrospective?
You won’t ask that question once you give
a listen to these infinitely catch two-minute blasts
of snotty teen punk ‘n’roll. Originally
formed as Plow in 1992, then rechristened Plow United
at the height of the Nineties pop-punk revival in
1995, the trio recorded for small labels, played
basements and VFW Halls from coast to coast, and
through word of mouth, fanzine reviews, and lots
of hard work, endeared themselves to a small but
loyal cult of fans. Sleepwalk: A Retrospective collects
the band’s three full-lengths, 7-inch singles
and one unreleased track, and 20 years later, still
sounds as fresh-faced and bratty as ever. Alternately
thrashy and melodic, Plow United remain part Dead
Milkmen, part Screeching Weasel, with a little Descendents
and a whole lot of adolescent testosterone thrown
into the mix.
RESTORATIONS
(Tiny Engines)
Old punks never die, they just turn into Bruce
Springsteen. That’s certainly one way to account
for the small army of former thrash-rockers now
touring the country with an acoustic guitar under
one arm and a beat up Woody Guthrie songbook under
the other. Featuring former members of Philly thrashers
Jena Berlin, Restorations’ self-titled 8-song
album showcases the raspy, two-packs-a-day vocals
of Jon Loudon, whose style mimics the gravel-throated
gravity of Jawbreaker’s Blake Schwarzenbach
and punk-turned- troubadour Tom Gabel. On the bluesy,
downbeat “Canadian Club,” Loudon even
does a passable Tom Waits. And through it all, you
can’t help thinking of Gaslight Anthem’s
regurgitation of tried-and-true Springsteen tropes.
The problem here is that everything sounds like
something we’ve already heard before. Restorations
likes to call its music “punk for grown ups,”
but that assumes that grown ups care less about
originality than they do about familiarity. This
grown up disagrees.
YUCK
(Fat Possum)
2011 will be remembered as the year that the Nineties
revival came to almost completely dominate indie rock,
from the return of iconic bands like Superchunk, Pavement
and Dinosaur Jr. to active duty to the 20th anniversary
hoopla surrounding Nirvana’s “Nevermind”
to the fetishization of those acts’ fuzzed-out
garage guitar sound. The UK’s Yuck epitomizes
the “back to the Nineties” movement yet
surprisingly does so with a great deal of elan; yes,
almost everything they play sounds like something
you might have heard on college radio in 1994, but
they’re still songs you’d want to hear
again. Sugar-coated melodies burst through fuzzy guitars
like a reborn Jesus & Mary Chain on standout tracks
like “Georgia” and “Get Away,”
while the loungey, acoustic “Suicide Policeman”
sounds like the sort of change-of-pace track that
Yo La Tengo might slip on a B side. Perhaps it’s
because vocalist Daniel Blumberg and lead guitarist
Max Bloom infuse so much youthful enthusiasm into
the proceedings that they can get away with what really
amounts to inspired plagiarism; they’re not
really repeating history so much as extending it into
the present.
NAT
& ALEX WOLFF – Black Sheep (Saddleup Records)
Nickelodeon’s former Naked Brothers shake
off their teen idol past and bid for indie-rock
credibility on “Black Sheep,” and while
it’s unlikely Pitchfork and the hipster blogosphere
will embrace the boys anytime soon, the album does
forego autotune, bloopy synths, and the other accoutrements
of mass-market bubblegum-pop for modest production
and earnest introspection; in fact, it sounds very
much like what you’d expect from two teenagers
who’ve spent a lot of time mooning over Pinkerton
and The Strokes. Happily for the parents of the
Wolffs’ Radio Disney demographic, everything
remains age appropriate; 17-year old Nat channels
his teenage rebellion on the upbeat “18”
by equating freedom with hating his parents (or
at least living at home with them,) while the still-pubescent
Alex flexes his sweet choir-boy falsetto on the
delightfully lovesick “Thump Thump Thump.”
‘Tweens will identify with the adolescent
angst and pangs of puppy love on songs like “Disappointed”
and “Help Me Understand” (little Alex
thinks his hair is too curly and his head is too
big; Nat wonders why his girlfriend dumped him)
but even older listeners should enjoy the relatable
lyrics, catchy melodies, and accomplished musicianship.
I saw Nat and Alex perform in February, 2010 playing
several of these songs and was impressed then; they’ll
be back at the The Studio at Webster Hall in NYC
on Sunday, November 20 for a 3 p.m. matinee. The
Box Story opens. Click
here for ticket info.
THE
MISFITS – The Devil’s Rain (Misfits
Records)
In the current episode of As The Misfits Turn,
we find Glenn Danzig and Doyle Von Wolfgang Frankenstein
doing Misfits (and Samhain) songs on the Danzig
Legacy tour, while Doyle’s real-life brother,
bassist Jerry Only, carries on the Misfits name
with guitarist Dez Cadena (of Black Flag fame) and
drummer Eric “Chupacabra” Arce. Questions
about “authenticity” seem ridiculous
at this point; in fact, Jerry Only does a much better
faux-Danzig yowl on this album than Michael Graves
did when he fronted the band a decade ago, and Only
seems perfectly capable of plugging the band’s
Ramones-y riffs and whoa-oh gang vocals into silly
(but catchy) formulaic 3-chord punk songs (which
is basically what the short-lived original Misfits
did 30 years ago.) At least Only isn’t taking
all of this nonsense – or himself - seriously,
as Danzig still seems to do; from the cheesy horror-flick
sound effects (haunted house thunderclaps, the scratching
violin and campy grunts on “Ghost of Frankenstein”)
to the sci-fi and monster matinee inspired lyrics,
Only & Co. have fun with the concept and seem
to really enjoy still being the Misfits. Producer
Ed Stasium gives everything a big bright ringing
sound (as he did with his work with the Ramones)
which, while we’re on the subject, is a big
improvement on those 80’s Misfits records,
which all sound like they were recorded on wax cylinders
in Danzig’s mother’s garage. The Devil’s
Rain won’t inspire you to throw away your
dog-eared copy of Walk Among Us; but if you’re
looking for some catchy monster-inspired punk rock,
you could do a lot worse.
PANTHER
MODERNS - Back Off, Warchild, It’s A Demo!
(panthermodernsnyc.bandcamp.com)
Panther Moderns brings together the talents of several
notable NYC scene vets, including Atom Lame of Sucidie,
Chris Grivet of the Steinways, and Oliver Lyons (a
longtime Jersey Beat contributor, and formerly drummer
of neo-goths Funeral Crashers, here seizing the mic
for lead vocals.) This is no mere demo, however, since
these four songs give birth to post-pop-punk, a new
genre that scoffs at the restrictive boundaries of
conventional Rock (like, say, singing in key, or playing
in time.) Raw as the nerve of a root canal, Lyons’
tobacco-stained vocals ride roughshod over surprisingly
fluid melodies and hooky shards of riffage that reflect
influences as diverse as Black Flag, Screeching Weasel,
and the fat naked guy from Fucked Up. As one might
expect from a band fronted by a rock critic (think:
Dictators, Yo La Tengo, Harvey Danger,) the lyrics
are frequently brilliant as well; to wit, “And
I already miss you more / than the days when you could
smoke indoors.” To borrow a phrase from quintessential
American cultural observer Dorothy Parker, Panther
Moderns are not a band to be tossed aside lightly;
they should be thrown with great force. Preferably
into the ears of an unsuspecting public.
WYLDLIFE
(wydlife.bandcamp.com)
Jersey City’s Wyldlife caught my attention
with their self-released “Nicotine”
EP and their wild, uninhibited, and extremely sweaty
live shows. Their full-length debut happily harnesses
that youthful energy and throws it right back at
you with the uncouth snarl of vintage Johnny Thunders
on a Wild Turkey bender. Perhaps it’s because
they spend more time in the seedy bars of downtown
Jersey City than the DIY hipstersphere of Bushwick,
but frontman Dangerous Dave Feldman and his crew
(Samm Allen on guitar, Spencer Alexander on bass,
and Rusty Barnett on drums) seem completely disinterested
in anything that Todd P. or Pitchfork might consider
au courant. Instead they dive headfirst and shirts
off into greasy rock ‘n’roll, channeling
the Dolls on the sassy “S.W.A.K.”, unashamedly
reveling in misogynistic fantasies on “The
First Time I Killed Someone,” or assaying
bar room country by way of Exile-era Stones on “Bird.”
Allen’s guitar sizzles, Alexander’s
bass provides a head-bobbingly melodic thump, and
Barrnett’s steady drums hold the whole shootin’match
together. A few favorites from the “Nicotine”
EP get thrown in to flesh the thing out to full-length,
which is fine given how the driving “Lit Lounge”
and the howling “Sidewalk Queen” manage
to kick up the last glowing embers of Lower East
Side sleaze into a full-fledged conflagration. Don’t
call it a throwback; this isn’t nostalgia,
it’s rock ‘n’ roll. Wyldlife are
here for your whiskey, your daughters, and your
ears. Get ready to hand it all over.
THE
AMBOYS – Led Into The Woods EP (theamboys.bandcamp.com)
There’s a lot of country twang, banjo pickin’,
and rootsy rockabilly rhythm on the new Amboys EP,
but there’s still a hint of Asbury Park swagger
on their second release. Recorded live in a rustic
cabin with no overdubs, “Led Into The Woods”
captures the immediacy of the Amboys’ down home
sound which – despite being Jersey boys –
never sounds affected or ironic. The band sounds right
at home singing about whiskey and loose women, channeling
everything from honky tonk to gospel, set to acoustic
guitars, banjo, piano, tambourine and shaker. The
fervent “Trees” recalls fellow Jerseyites
Roadside Graves while “Last Song Of The Night”
adds a bit of Latin dance flavor and a hint of the
Boss to the proceedings. The elegiac final track,
“In The Woods,” adds sonorous cello, bird
calls, trumpet, and one of frontman C.M. Smith’s
most nuanced vocals to the mix. You could make a pretty
gripping alt-country mix tape from the likes of The
Amboys, the ‘Graves, River City Extension, and
Montclair’s Porchistas, and Jersey City’s
Ashes, to name just a few of the Jersey acts currently
doing excellent work in this genre.
THE
PORCHISTAS – Save The Earth (theporchistas.com)
Montclair’s Porchistas remind me a lot of
Cropduster, the Nineties Jersey band that mixed
cowpunk twang with urban wit to such great effect.
The Porchistas say they were “born on a porch,”
and there is a loose, house party vibe to their
tunes, powered by sinewy electric guitar, bass,
and drums. The band reuses old folk melodies –
they turn “Comin’ Round The Mountain”
into “The PBR Song,” a paean to the
cheap hipster brew, and they emphasize that the
grade-school favorite “Down By The Riverside”
was actually written as an anti-war protest song.
Like Ween, they’re not afraid to shred and
show off their chops on occasion, and also like
Ween, they seem incapable of being serious for too
long. This is good time party music with a bit of
twang. Serve cold, with chips.
JEFFREY
LEWIS – A Turn In The Dream-Songs (Rough Trade)
Anti-folk troubadour Jeffrey Lewis returns with his
first new album of original tunes in two years, after
spending time on a collaboration with ageless LES
folkie Peter Stampfel and an album of Crass covers.
While 2009’s ‘Em Are I presented a fuller
band sound and forays into garage rock, A Turn In
The Dream-Songs finds Lewis and his finger-picked
acoustic guitar rummaging through his fertile imagination
accompanied by violin, mandolin, and other sparsely
used instruments, as always singing with great charm
and dry wit self-deprecatingly about himself –
about how girls don’t like him, or how he always
feels lost, or trying to kill himself (but getting
sold fake rat poison that thwarts the attempt,) or
how awkward it is going out to eat by yourself. Lewis’
monotone delivery and two-chord melodies have always
been entrancing, but never more so than on a bit of
complete nonsense like “Krongu Green Slime,”
the story of a primordial life force marketed in grocery
stores. There’s also a song about the inexorable
power of water (something that I, with a very leaky
ceiling, can certainly identify with,) and “Reaching,”
a cute boy/girl duet that’s as close as Lewis
has ever come to being unironically romantic. But
the highlight here is “Cult Boyfriend,”
a quintessential Lewis narrative in which he compares
his own unique charms to those of other “cult”
favorites like the Misfits, WFMU, and (ugh!) haggis.
KEVIN
DEVINE – Between The Concrete And Clouds (Razor
& Tie)
It occurred to me while listening to this album
that living in Brooklyn these days must be like trying
to age gracefully in a college town. Every fall, there’s
another huge crop of 20 year olds to replace the ones
that have moved on, but you keep getting a year older.
Kevin Devine reflects on turning 30 at least once
on his excellent new album, but all 10 songs are shot
through with musings about finding one’s place
in the world, and coping with the knotty ties of family,
religion, friends, and his reflections on mortality.
Introspection has always loomed large in the Kevin
Devine songbook, and often he’s been pretty
hard on himself; yet his music remains buoyant and
upbeat, optimistic and encouraging even when coping
with hard times.
I became a fan (and friend) of Kevin’s back
when he was still fronting The Miracle of 86, which
had to have been the happiest pop-rock band ever tarred
with the emo label; and this – his sixth solo
joint – is his most “band” oriented
album since those days. Kevin’s put away the
acoustic guitar that dominated his early solo work
(and infused even his most recent albums with a singer-songwriter
feel.) Echo, chorus, sustain, delay - a plethora of
effects pedals add distinctive tones to the electric
guitars; nothing feels overproduced, but the shimmering
“sound” of these songs definitely constitutes
a consistency that was missing from albums like “Brother’s
Blood” that segued from scratchy folk to sonic
ear candy. Probably for contractual reasons (this
is his first release for Razor & Tie,) the cover
reads "Kevin Devine," but moreso than any
of his other solo work, this is a Kevin Devine &
The Goddamn Band album.
Devine’s distinctively reedy, raspy voice still
tickles your ears on the verses , but it’s almost
always multi-tracked into bright, ringing harmonies
on the choruses. . If you want to stream a few songs
before buying, check out the title song or “The
City Has Left You,” which both showcase Devine’s
knack for endearing melody as well as soul-probing
lyrics. Then head over to Amazon.com, where the download
is currently on sale at a super-low bargain price
THE
FRONT BOTTOMS - s/t (Bar None)
In the name of full disclosure, I am not all that
bright and frankly, I am often confused. Listening
to the Front Bottoms has me blissfully confounded.
This Jersey duo plays punk without sounding anything
like a punk band, although drummer Mathew Uychich
also plays bullhorn and I think that’s pretty
punk. Actually, what makes this such a triumphant
exercise in musical experimentation is Brian Sella’s
soaring vocals and positively scathing lyrics. His
storytelling sounds like stream of consciousness
run amok; a wild, sardonic dissection of suburbia,
growing up, and being bored. When he says on “Maps”
that “I move slow, slow enough to make you
uncomfortable”, he may be capturing the mood
of the disc. There is a perpetual sense of confusion
and disorientation that will either endear this
band to one’s soul or fill a person with indescribable
frustration. “Mountain” acts as a perfect
example: the song begins innocuously enough with
a well placed horn accenting such lyrical gems as
“I love your eyes the way they look when you’re
uncomfortable,” before effortlessly giving
way to a surprisingly aggressive riff. As the noise
fades, the beautiful horn returns and the song leaves
quietly and quickly. Each track plays out like an
intriguing short story; a mixture of brilliant metaphors
with musical accompaniments that range from gritty
to lush. One can find wildly funny and biting lines
within the context of every effort, whether Sella
is discussing homeless former classmates (“Flashlight”),
being on the run to Florida (“Rhode Island’)
or killing his father with a baseball bat (“Father;”)
although my personal favorite comes from the aforementioned
“Maps.” as Sella emotes in a marvelously
deadpan delivery, “One day you’ll be
washing yourself with hand soap in a public bathroom.”
Wow. Even the bouncy, dance-hall groove of “The
Beers” seems to take on a more ominous tone
when the narration turns to the brutally honest
admission that it was” the summer when I was
taking steroids because you like a man with muscles
and I like you”. The courage to express such
awkward, even embarrassing, truths makes this an
unforgettable listening experience. Within these
songs, there is some piece of your own life experience
whether you chose to admit it or not, and this will
connect with people on a hauntingly personal level.
The playing is fairly straightforward and somewhat
minimalist, yet as all the components come together,
there is a vast canvas on display for those daring
enough to stay with this. For those who believe
that the DIY aesthetic is fading away, find this
and revel. - Rich Quinlan
Brian
Sella (acoustic guitar, lead vocals) and Matt Uychich
(drums, vocals) are the Front Bottoms, who until
recently had been my pick as the best unsigned band
in New Jersey. Enter Bar None, who offered to remaster
and reissue the band’s barely-heard 2010 EP
“Slow Dance To Slow Rock” along with
six new songs as this eponymous debut full-length,
available in a nifty two-disc 10” vinyl configuration
along with CD and digital. The songs are fleshed
out with dollops of synths, trumpet, and strings,
although mostly it’s Brian Sella’s plaintive
post-emo vocals and his vibrant imagination working
against Matt Uychich’s minimalist drumkit,
pounding home the beat. Sella portrays himself as
the nerdy post-adolescent, fretting about girls
(“I will remember that summer, as the summer
I was taking steroids, ‘cause you like a man
with muscles, and I like you”), pondering
suicide like a latterday “Harold And Maude”
(“there’s comfort at the bottom of a
swimming pool”) and patricide (smashing his
father’s head in with a baseball bat.) But
his morbid fantasies are more than offset by his
insecurities (the brilliant “Maps,”
the creepy “Flashlight,” the obsessive-compulsive
“Bathtub;”) and his ability to conjure
up indelible images from the most prosaic details,
often nonchalantly throwing in mind-blowing non-sequiturs
(“I love your eyes, the way they look when
you’re uncomfortable;” “I’m
the last one on the dance floor, as the chandelier
gives way.”) Or this one: “But you’re
an artist, and your mind don’t work the way
you want it to; one day you’ll be washing
yourself with hand soap in a public bathroom.”
And Sella speaks for the entire post-Obama generation
when he sings, “I could stand up, I could
man up, but it’s just so convenient to be
fragile.” Every one of these original and
provocative thoughts is set to an irresistibly catchy
singalong melody too. In a perfect world, these
songs would be the summer jams of misfit teens and
twentysomethings everywhere, obsessing about growing
up, getting laid, and leaving home (or worse, not
being able to come back.) Then again, speaking personally,
those themes resonate when you’re in your
fifties too. As Sella sings in “The Boredom
Is The Reason,” “you’re part of
a program, so get with the program... You’re
not even sleeping, you’re probably even listening.”
God, I hope so. - Jim Testa
LET
ME RUN – “Let Me Run” EP (letmerun.bandcamp.com)
New Brunswick’s Let Me Run has been nothing
if not a work-in-progress, not to mention perseverant;
Rocky Catanese is the third lead singer in a band
that only dates back to 2007. And on their new self-titled,
self-released, 5-song EP, this plucky quartet has
pretty much reinvented itself as a lean, energetic,
relentlessly tuneful rock ‘n’ roll machine
that’s embraced its punk rock roots. Let Me
Run’s earlier recordings, especially 2009’s
“Meet Me At The Bottom,” leaned heavily
towards Gaslight Anthem-styled bar-room rock. The
new songs still feature fist-pumping gang vocals on
the choruses to excellent effect, but the music’s
been stripped of its nostalgic bluesy roots-rock for
a more modern punk feel with a nod towards the classic
punk melodies of bands like Bad Religion. The chugga-chugga
guitar parts and rewarmed Springsteen tropes of older
tracks like “The Count of Monte Fisto”
and “We Bring The Booze” have been supplanted
by more intricate guitar lines and more complex lyrical
ideas; instead of celebrating weekend beer blasts,
the band is now addressing the damage alcohol and
addiction can wreak on “Broken Brother.”
Rather than living in the moment – or in the
past – the band’s now writing songs about
looking inside and contemplating one’s place
in the world (a logical progression when you’re
suddenly 24 instead of 19.) Instead of knowing all
the answers, Let Me Run are now asking a lot of good
questions. That’s called growing up. And becoming
a better band. THE
END MEN – “Build It Up” EP (theendmen.com)
Matthew Hendershot used to play in a Brooklyn band
called the Dead River Company that I enjoyed a few
times. Drummer Livia Ranalli played in Top Ten Lovers.
When those groups disbanded, the duo formed this bluesy
project, with the assistance of Jason Godbey on harmonica
and lead guitar. Hendersot’s got a gruff, gravelly,
voice that can’t help but draw comparisons to
Tom Waits; it pairs with Godbey’s bluesy harp
as perfectly as whiskey and ice. Ranalli adds skittish
minimalist drums to the proceedings. On tracks like
“A Dirty Song,” Hendershot hams it up
almost to Buster Poindexter-ish extremes, like a more
theatrical version of early White Stripes or a more
stripped down take on George Thorogood’s back-room
blues. It’s all very entertaining and a nice
break from the overreaching hipster artiness of most
of what comes out of Brooklyn these days.
THE
CALL OUT – “Closer” EP (thecallout@hotmail.com)
In a perfect world, “Kally” would be the
jam of the summer, a radio-perfect power-pop shoulda-been-a-hit
with an infectious chorus and clever lyrics about
longing for a girl named Kally who’s back in
California while the narrator’s stuck in Jersey.
For me, it’s the best song on the Call Out’s
excellent new 5-track EP. The band plays catchy day-glo
post-emo pop that teen girls pine over and dudes in
tees and sandals can mosh to, but happily the Call
Out does it a bit better than most of the other bands
in Jersey working this genre. Start with Jon Ferris,
a gifted lead singer who not only has an American
Idol-worthy set of pipe (not a “pitchy”
note here) but the ability to infuse these lyrics
with honest emotions (as opposed to the lovesick ferrets
who all too often yelp this sort of thing.) The arrangements
show that the band really sweated over these tunes
too; almost every song has some original guitar bit
– a weird chord or a stop/start bit of riffage
- that catches your ear. It seems like the band’s
been through more bassists and drummers than Spinal
Tap in its short existence but hopefully this lineup
will stay together and the right people will get to
hear this record. (That starts with you,
by the way.)
CAMDEN
– “Totally Fine” EP (Camden.bandcamp.com)
The members of Camden split their time between
South Jersey and Boston due to college, so we don’t
get to see them very often around these parts (although
NJUnderground and Jersey Beat were able to lure
them into driving down to play Maxwells at our joint
showcase last winter.) On their 3-song “Totally
Fine” EP, the band goes in a more rock direction
than their debut “Vale” EP and that’s
a good thing. “Vale” had an electro-pop
edge with R&B and soul influences that sounded
much more “indie rock” when played live.
Frontman Jason Sibilia put aside his samplers and
synthesizers and made this much more of a band record.
“Diamonds In Bloom,” the standout track
here, is a beachy summer jam with a relaxed, groovy
melody that sounds like it floated out of some Bushwick
loft. The crisp studio production keeps this safe
from the chillwave tag but certainly this band would
mesh perfectly with the hipster sounds of Brooklyn
heavyhitters like Oberhofer or the Drums. “Let’s
Go For A Drive” is a surprisingly straightforward
pop song and the bouncy, head-bobbing ‘Mustangs”
is similarly perfectly suited for listening on long
summer drives with the top down and the wind in
your face. The only thing wrong with this disc is
that it’s only 3 songs.
SPEED
THE PLOUGH – Shine (Dromedary)
Speed The Plough was born back in the Eighties, when
the moonlighting members of the Feelies decided to
reunite. Toni Paruta, Jon Baumgartner, and Marc Francia
- who had been playing with Bill Million and Glenn
Mercer as the Trypes – decided to carry on as
Speed The Plough. Though there were several incarnations
of the band (including, at different points, rock
journalist Jim DeRogatis and Feelies Stan Demeski
on drums), the Baumgartners (Jon and Toni married)
and Francia created a distinctiv sound rooted in the
insinuating polyrhythms of the Feelies coupled with
a pastoral, post-hippie sort of mysticism. Fast forward
to 2009, when Speed The Plough re-emerged with the
core three intact, this time abetted by a second generation
– Toni and Jon’s son Michael on guitar,
Marc’s sons Dan and Ian on bass and drums. With
Jon and Toni still sharing vocal duties, the new lineup
still sounds like Speed The Plough. Only … well…
different. There are still echoes of the Beatles (especially
George Harrison’s raga influences) and the Feelies
(the slow-build syncopated build up that begins “Madeleine”)
but the instrumentation adds synthesizers, accordion,
flute, and woodwinds to the basic guitar/bass/drums
mix. “Madeleine” includes a solo (by something
that sounds like a cross between a synth, a trumpet,
and a kazoo) that wanders off into the melody from
“My Favorite Things” from The Sound Of
Music. “Can’t Get Over You,” with
a wistful vocal by Jon, features a colorful organ
part over strummed Feelies-esque guitars, while “Pour
Man” wanders into Fairport Convention folkie/faerie
territory. “Honey Bee,” in contrast, has
Jon laying a soulful Hammond Organ part under one
of Toni’s declamatory vocals, while a playful
jazz saxophone tickles the melody. “(Love Is)
The Best Revenge” features a vocal duet between
Jon and Toni, with strummed guitars and organ erupting
into a pastoral flute solo by Toni that’s one
of the prettiest things I’ve heard in a while.
“Sea Of Tranquility” – whose lilting
chorus gives the album its title – showcases
Jon on organ and Toni’s mellifluous lead vocal.
And the old-timey piano ballad “Who Knew The
World” ends the album on an appropriately nostalgic
note, with ukulele and pealing guitar under Jon and
Toni’s mixed voices. “Shine” is
an appropriately sentimental and slightly old-fashioned
collection of songs representing a sentimental and
slightly old-fashioned ideal: A family that loves
one another, and loves playing together.
THE
COPYRIGHTS – North Sentinel Island (Red Scare)
Ridiculously catch singalong gang vocals on every
track? Check. Subtly insightful lyrics championing
the underdog and the working class? Check. Songs
that make you feel happy to be alive and ready to
jump headfirst into the next available moshpit?
Check. So it must be the new Copyrights album. I
wish there was something original I could add to
this conversation, but this crew has been the most
consistently excellent purveyors of this sort of
fist in the air pop-punk going back to 2003’s
“We Didn’t Come Here To Die.”
This is their fifth album and might just be their
best; as always, Brett and Fletcher and Jeff and
Luke capture the relentless back-breaking torment
of day-to-day survival at the bottom of the food
chain, yet still manage to inject notes of optimism
and hope. “Ignorance is bliss, they say,”
they sing on “Never Move Your Back Row,”
“and I’m a tough motherfucker who can
make it through the day.” So how do they –
and we – keep on going? Because there’s
always tomorrow, and it might just be better, and
we’ve always got our dreams: “I wanna
die with a worn out passport, in the pocket of stolen
jeans, on a beach somewhere I’ve never been
before, surrounded by people I’ve never seen.”
Don’t say you’ve heard all this before;
you may have heard music like it, just like you’ve
heard the blues or soul. But every note the Copyrights
play, every word they sing, comes from the heart,
and that never, ever gets old.
ARE
YOU LISTENING? The Top 100 Albums of 2001-2010 from
New Jersey Artists by Gary Wien (facebook.com/AreYouListeningNJ)
Gary Wien has quietly worked behind the scenes,
mostly in Asbury Park music circles, as a publisher,
writer, journalist, and most recently, curator of
one of the Internet radio stations that airs my
show (so, you know, caveat emptor here.)
He set himself the Sisyphean task of listening to
over 2,000 recordings by New Jersey artists released
in the decade 2000-2010 and the results - ranked
through some arithmetic process by which each record
was given a point ranking by Wien - can be found
in this handsome trade paperback (there is also
a less expensive B&W edition). The handsomely
illustrated tome provides colorful photos (not just
recycled publicity stills) as well as background
information on Gary's top 100 New Jersey records
and the artists who made them.
It goes without saying that this is Gary's list
- not mine, not yours - and so, yeah, there are
going to be some quibbles, as there always are with
these best-of lists. No Wrens, no Ted Leo, no Yo
La Tengo? No Roadside Graves or Tris McCall or Screaming
Females? Well, to each his own. Wien's taste runs
heavily (and I do mean heavily) to white
guys with guitars; Val Emmich shows up three
times, to give you an idea of his taste. There
are women artists well represented in the book,
but no virtually hip hop, jazz, or soul. (One wonders
if the title shouldn't have been "The Top 100
Indie and Folk Rock Albums From NJ Artists.")
There's precious little metal, hardcore, or underground
punk for that matter, unless you want to count post-teen
emo-punks Echo Screen (who get two albums
on the list, despite being dismissed by AbsolutePunk
as "a simplified and high octane Fall Out Boy
and Punchline hybrid.") But Saves The Day,
Early November, Hidden In Plain View, Boysetsfire?
Uh uh.
There are a few ringers, as well; Fountains of Wayne
(who, name aside, really were never a NJ band;)
Dramarama, who relocated to L.A. decades before
recording Everybody Dies in 2004; Springsteen's
The Rising, which technically qualifies
but doesn't really fit into the indie vibe of most
of the book; and the (admittedly excellent) album
April Smith made years after she'd moved to Brooklyn.
There are a few recognizable "names"
on the list besides The Boss - My Chemical Romance,
Thursday, Gaslight Anthem, Bouncing Souls - and
a couple of up and comers (the Gay Blades make the
list, as does Titus Andronicus' annoyingly self-indulgent
The Monitor. But there's nothing from contemporaries
like Real Estate, Steel Train, Vivian Girls, and
all those other Ridgewood/Glen Rock bands that Pat
Stickles went to high school with, or the hugely-lauded
2009 album by Cymbals Eat Guitars, whose genesis
was in Manahawkin. Wien does recognize Jersey's
history of breeding great punk rock bands in sweaty
house shows in several of his essays; but unless
those bands eventually graduated from the basement
to Starland Ballroom (Thursday, MCR, Bouncing Souls,)
they don't make the list: For Science, Measure (SA),
Plastic East, Mohawk Barbie, Atomic Missiles, Full
of Fancy, Hunchback, Seasick, and that whole '00
generation of New Brunswick punk goes unmentioned.
Mostly you'll find guitar-centric indie-rock bands
like Souls Release, Maybe Pete, Bill Owens Five,
Successful Failures, Sunday All Stars, Wicker Hollow,
Steel Mill, and Red Wanting Blue who spent most
of their careers in small clubs like the Saint,
Brighton Bar, Court Tavern, and Maxwells. There's
also a surfeit of singer/songwriters, many with
Jersey shore ties, like George Wirth, Ken Shane,
Keith Monacchio, Arlan Feiles, Jon Caspi,Bob Burger,
Lisa Bouchelle, James Dalton, Zak Smith, Anthony
Walker, Rick Barry, and Christine Martucci.
Don't get me wrong; in the context of this particular
book, that's a good thing. It's these largely unheralded
and often forgotten artists who are the real stars
here, and it's commendable that Wien has chronicled
their efforts and provides some background on their
work. But even there I have a quibble. (Of course.)
Reading between the lines often uncovers a predilection
for hyperbole, as when Wien states that Gaslight
Anthem's "The 59 Sound" "practically
made them a household word for rock n roll fans
all over the world." The album peaked at 70
on the Billboard Top 200 albums chart and has yet
to be certified as a gold record, which means that
under 500,000 copies have been sold. (Granted, many
more have doubtlessly been shared illegally... but
that's another book altogether.) Gaslight Anthem
got big in Jersey and did some tours, but "a
houseold word around the world" suggests Lady
Gaga, Kanye West, or Madonna, not five guys in white
t-shirts from Jersey whose biggest claim to fame
is how well they rip off Bruce Springsteen. Heck,
I doubt the Boss is a household word in Belarus
or Pakistan.
Want more? Divine Sign, the fine but humble folk
pop pairing of Lindsey Miller and Kerry McNulty,
are compared to "Neil Young, the Band, and
even Fleetwood Mac," which is a little like
comparing that play your 11 year old son made in
Little League this morning to the iconic Willie
Mays basket catch that helped win the '54 World
Series.
Side note: Links or references on how one might
access some of this music would have been helpful,
too.
If you've been a regular reader of Jersey Beat
or the Aquarian for the last decade, Are You
Listening? will bring back some pleasant memories
and might even inspire a visit to the unvisited
corners of your CD collection. And if you weren't
there, this is as good a place as any to discover
a little of what you missed.
But really, Gary, no Ergs?
MODERN
HUT - "Wrong" EP (Don Giovanni Records)
Modern Hut is the solo project of Joe Steinhardt,
formerly of New Brunswick pop-punkers For Science,
and one half of Don Giovanni Records. The band's
been through several incarnations (including a duo
for a time with Chelsea Lacatena of Short Attention,)
but at this point it seems to be Joe and whomever
he can corral into recording with him. As Modern
Hut, Steinhardt has in the past performed acoustic
versions of For Science songs as well as folkie,
thoughtful originals, but "Wrong" offers
an interesting change of pace, a dense swirl of
electric guitars behind Joe's trademark laconic
vocals. The man has always had an ear for melody
and this one's catchy as hell; the tune nods along
a little like solo Bob Mould. I think that's Fid
(ex Measure SA) shredding the solo in the background.
The flipside "Life" is a song I recognize
from hearing live; here, Joe's enlisted Marissa
Paternoster of Screaming Females to duet with him
over strummed acoustic guitars. It's a gently pokey
tune with a droopy, shuffling beat; hearing Marissa
play Emmy Lou Harris to Joe's Gram Parsons is a
real treat. Given the stable of talent Joe can draw
from just from his own label, we can almost certainly
look forward to Modern Hut serving up more surprises
like this in the future.
ANTIETAM
- Tenth Life (Matador)
It's been 30 years since Tara Key and Tim Harris
relocated their Southern boogie-punk Babylon Dance
Band north to Hoboken, where the streets were lined
with recording contracts and gold nuggets and free
John Courage Ale poured from every spigot. Of course
the Hoboken of the early 80's wasn't quite that
idyllic but Tim and Tara did manage to put down
roots, forming an enduring alliance with Yo La Tengo
and other musicians (especially Tara's collaborations
with Rick Rizzo). So here we are three decades later,
Antietam still very much a band, Tim and Tara still
very much a couple, and Tenth Life one of the group's
most focused and tuneful releases in a while. Tara
Key still creates a maelstrom of sound with guitar
and voice - in many ways, she's the template for
what Marissa Paternoster is doing now in Screaming
Females - but the jamming and shredding is kept
to a minimum, working in service to some of the
band's strongest melodies in a while. Like Sonic
Youth and and Mission of Burma and a whole host
of Eighties noise-bands who are still making meanintful
rock records, Antietam shows no signs of age or
irrelevance. Girls with guitars never seem to get
the same adulation we extend to our punk poets like
Patti Smith or the small army of post-punk divas
who strut across stages mic in hand but can't play
a note. It's about time Tara got credit for a voice
and a guitar style that's as unique as anything
indie rock has given us in the last three decades.
BIG
UPS (bigups.bandcamp.com)
FLAGLAND (flagland.bandcamp.com)
These two collegiate bands both serve up giddy,
fun punk rock perfect for beer-soaked basements.
Joe Galarrga's high-pitched half sung/half shouted
vocals sound like an 8 year old on a sugar high
when Big Ups is raging about the simple pleasures
pizza, high 5's, or their favorite comic strip.
Most songs clock in under 2 minutes, which is perfect
for this sort of silly ADD punk, although the band
does stretch out a bit for the thrashy party anthem
"Breaking Things (Reluctantly.)" Flagland
offers variations on the same themes, with whiny
post-emo vocals and songs like "Asshole Boyfriend"
and "My New Gun." Think Jonathan Richman
for frat party mosh pits and you've got the idea.
DEVO
SPICE - Gnome Sane? (devospice.com)
Tom Rockwell aka Devo Spice needs no introduction
if you're a fan of the Dr. Demento show or an aficionado
of nerdcore (a genre primarily composed of comedic
rap songs.) But if you haven't heard of him, get
ready for a good chuckle. With a deadpan delivery,
sampled beats (that often turn into clever mashups,)
a sharp wit, and a plethora of nerdist pop-culture
references, Devo Spice wrings humor from our technology-obsessed
day to day lives. If there's a knock, it's that
he often visits the same territory twice: There
are songs about nerds and geeks, Christmas and Halloween,
Twitter and Facebook. But Rockwell (along with a
stellar cast of nerdcore guest stars, including
Worm Quartet, the Great Luke Ski, MC Lars, and YT
Cracker) hits the mark more often than he misses.
Pick hits: "Platform Wars" (Mac vs PC),
"I'm Not Your Personal IT Guy," and probably
the ultimate nerdcore in-joke, " Weird Al Didn't
Write This Song."
LAURA
STEVENSON & THE CANS – Sit Resist (Don
Giovanni)
On her second full-length with her talented multi-instrumentalist
band, Laura Stevenson steps aside from her role as
the cute punk chick in Bomb The Music Industry and
full embraces her new identity as a sultry chanteuse
of folk and blues. Stevenson’s smoky, fragile
voice has a vulnerability that’s not unlike
the great Billie Holiday, although the band’s
jaunty forays into uptempo pop also invite comparisons
to the vaudevillian jauntiness of Brooklyn indie-rocker
April Smith. The Cans make a compelling backup band
when they stick to guitar/bass/drums fundamentals
but their real appeal and distinctiveness comes into
play when they introduce trumpet, accordion, banjo,
and violin into the mix, on standout tracks like “The
Healthy One,” “Peachy,” and “Barnacles.”
On the traditional “Red Clay Roots,” Laura
and the band sound like they’re being beamed
through time from a Grand Ole Opry radio broadcast
from the Fifties. Like Alex Winston and Lykke Li,
two other 2011 breakout performers, expect Laura Stevenson
to keep turning heads and winning new fans as more
people discover the allure of her voice and the depth
of her backing band.
QUINCY
MUMFORD & THE REASON WHY - Speak (quincymumford.com)
ANTHONY WALKER & THE MEDICINE CHEST –
This City Won’t Sleep (Anthony-walker.com)
Anthony Walker, Matt Wade, Tor Milller, Julian
Sutton, Quincy Mumford… those names may not
mean a lot now, unless you’re a habitué
of the Jersey shore indie scene, but just wait a
few years. Asbury Park is enjoying a youth movement
that’s bursting with talent and ready to break
out into the national spotlight. Although he’s
not old enough to order a beer, Allenhurst’s
Quincy Mumford is a seasoned veteran of this scene
and “Speak” is, remarkably, already
his third album. With a polished backing band of
locals, Mumford qualifies as one of the jammiest
artists on the Jersey shore, working a smooth reggae
groove into his compositions. He’s also one
of the “beachiest” kids on the scene;
it’s hard to imagine Matt Wade skateboarding
or Anthony Walker on a surfboard, but the strikingly
handsome Mumford looks like he was born to walk
around in boardies and sandals trying to catch the
eye of an Abercrombie & Fitch photographer.
Karlee Bloomfield’s colorful runs on electric
piano and organ flesh out Mumford’s knack
for low-key melodies and head-bobbing rhythms; Travis
Lyon adds complexity with his fluid and funky lead
guitar. Brian Gearty on bass and Jeff Mann on drums
add the polyrhythmic prowess that fuels Mumford’s
penchant for island rhythms and sould grooves. On
“Rally,” Mumford shows off his vocal
dexterity, nimbly spitting out the verses hip-hop
style over jaunty pop melody. ‘Sounds Like
Music” sounds like a hit single, a ; te with
horns. Mumford & Co. rework these tropes –
reggae, ska, funk, soul, and hip hop – on
the signature “Full Tank Of Gas” and
the horn-driven “My Friends.” Speak
is a delight from start to finish, from Mumford’s
boyish but confident vocals to the impressive musicianship
of his band to the deft intermingling of reggae,
ska, soul, and funk that runs through his songwriting.
Next thing you know, the kid will be dating Jenifer
Aniston.
Like
Mumford, Anthony Walker (formerly known as Anthony
Fiumano) broke into the Asbury scene as a teenager,
performing callow solo/acoustic performances at
coffeehouses and open mics. With the formation of
his band the Medicine Chest, though, he morphed
from a folksinger into more of a modern-country
and Americana artist. On This City Won’t Sleep
– funded by fans through a Kickstarter.com
campaign - Walker flexes his songwriting chops as
well as the muscle of his impressive backing band,
which includes lead guitarist Tommy Strazza (a local
headliner in his own right) and talented young keyboardist
Matt Wade. When Walker released the vibrant, catchy
“The Movie Universe” as a single a while
ago, it looked like this new album might take a
more straight-ahead rock approach, but most of “This
City Won’t Sleep” has a rootsy quality.
“Once And For All” emphasizes the western
in country-western, with its twangy guitars and
barrelhouse piano. Walker’s folkie roots (and
panache for clever lyrics) come to the fore on the
acoustic-driven “Call Me Custer.” The
winsome peel of pedal steel sets the tone for the
elegiac “Forget The Railroad,” while
Strazza’s searing lead guitar and a throbbing,
funky bass line steal the spotlight on “Sundowners.”
And “Darlene” ranks as one of the best
ballads Walker’s ever written; he should sell
it to Scotty McCreery after the wannabe American
Idol finishes his run this season, it’d be
a monster country hit.
Next up should be the debut album by Matt Wade,
the curly-headed Elton John of the Asbury scene;
and right behind him there’s the Tor Miller
Band and the 10-piece Julian Fulton & The Zombie
Gospel, both of whom turned in impressive sets at
this year’s Bamboozle.
Don’t look now, Bruce, but they’re
gaining on you.
READYMADE
BREAKUP (readymadebreakup.com)
Readymade Breakup’s third album turns out to
be the self-titled one. That’s a trick bands
usually use either to reintroduce themselves after
a long hiatus, or to announce a reinvention of the
band’s sound. And both of those things are true
in a way here. It’s been two years since the
group’s last full-length, Alive On The Vine,
and in that time RMB has dropped its keyboards and
acoustic guitars and found a much more muscular, dynamic
sound, thanks to the addition of guitarist Jim Fitzgerald.
In that time, bassist G.E. and his wife had a baby,
lead singer/guitarist Paul Rosevear moved to Greenwich
Village and released an acoustic EP, and drummer Spicy
O’Neil left the band and then decided to come
back. It’s been a tumultuous period in the band’s
history but much to their credit, they’ve emerged
from it all with their best and most cohesive collection
of songs yet. With those powerful guitars, melodic
bottom, and Rosevear’s chameleonic vocals, Cheap
Trick comes instantly to mind, seamlessly combining
the best elements of power-pop and classic rock. “Just”
exemplifies RMB’s robust dynamism as Rosevear
goes from an evocative whisper to a bombastic arena-rock
roar, surrounded by a kaleidoscopic fusion of harmony
vocals and dense guitars. “Waiting For You”
builds from O’Neil’s precise percussion
to a soaring falsetto epiphany in the chorus, while
“There” brings a dash of Tom Petty-like
Americana to the mix. “Unzip My Face”
continues the Cheap Trick comparison; it’s power-pop
with real power, and that “I miss you”
chorus is to die for. “Bravest Smile,”
about solidering through tough times (in fact, inspired
by a close friend with a terminal illness,) packs
even more punch with its quadraphonic harmony chorus
and Rosevear’s searing “you’re not
alone” refrain. “Good Things” borrows
from the Who, Kinks, Green Day, and every other rock
band who’s used an acoustic guitar to bolster
a rock track to excellent effect. Even the inevitable
ballad – “Not Through With You Yet”
– proves a high point, with one of Rosevear’s
most powerful lyrics on the album. “Erased”
ends the album on a note of Beatlesque psychedelia
– another change of pace, but a welcome one.
This isn’t just one of the strongest albums
to come out of New Jersey in 2010, it’s one
of the best records of the year, period.
THE
GAY BLADES – Savages (Triple Crown/ILG)
Clark Westfield and Puppy Mills still do one thing
better than any other band I can think of at the moment:
They poke a finger in your eye and dare you to guess
what they really mean. The flamboyant and theatrical
NJ-based duo create a monster sound on their second
album, with a kitchen-sink approach that mixes music-hall
razzamatazz with fractured 60’s pop (I swear
they’re ripping off Jimmy Webb on “November
Fight Song,”) and post-punk squall. When the
band delves into weighty subject matter – like
the solemn family issues of “Try To Understand”
– the music turns jaunty and (in the old-fashioned
sense) gay; when the vocals seem solemn and emotion-wracked,
they’re singing some nonsense like “Puppy
Mills Presents” (“well we could find God
and join a seminary, if I was Father Clark then I'd
be Father Puppy, after all God pays pretty well, we
could pay off all the kids to show and never tell.”)
Not since Panic At The Disco has strutting around
like a popinjay been taken to such arrogant (and entertaining)
extremes. The Gay Blades are not a band to be tossed
aside lightly; you may want to take this CD and throw
it full force into the nearest wall. Or this might
just turn out to be your favorite band ever. Me, I’m
voting for the latter; if these guys aren’t
playing to Screaming Females-size audiences in a year,
something’s very wrong with the world.
THE
MEASURE (SA) – Notes (No Idea)
Brooklyn (by way of New Brunswick) pop-punkers The
Measure (SA) turn in a wonderfully compelling full-length
after releasing a string of excellent singles and
split EP’s. Lauren DeNitizio’s fragile
vocals still hold the spotlight, but guitarist Fid’s
doing more singing, which is a good thing (especially
on the tracks like “Be Yours” where they
trade lead vocals and harmonize. Chris “Gobo”
Pierce returns to the fold on drums (following the
defection of Mikey Erg to Minneapolis and the road,)
so it goes without saying that the drums fucking rule,
and Tim Burke plays some nice throbbingly melodic
bass parts. Standout tracks include “I’m
No Daniel Craig” (with Fid on lead vox and some
nice harmonica,) Lauren’s achingly vulnerable
“Fear of Commitment,” the super-catchy,
hand-clappingly awesome “St. Kathleen,”
and the hard-rocking “Sigh;” but really,
there’s not a track on here you’re going
to want to skip.
KENNY
CHAMBERS – Under The Tracks (Bad Blood)
After a long hiatus, former Moving Targets frontman
Kenny Chambers returns to the indie rock world with
Under The Tracks, inspired by the untimely passing
of his two former bandmates, Pat Leonard and Pat
Brady. Although Chambers most recently stayed active
in music with American Pulverizer (as you might
guess, a hard rock/punk combo,) his Eighties roots
are evident in the jangly guitars and easygoing
tempos of the songs on “Under The Tracks.”
Themes of loss, aging, separation, and moving on
flicker throughout the album, guided by Chambers’
amiable, somewhat reedy vocals. Although Chambers
recently moved back to his native Boston after years
in L.A., the feel here is more Eighties Minneapolis.
This album would have fit perfectly on the Twin/Tone
roster back in the days of Jayhawks, Replacements,
and early Soul Asylum. It’s a bittersweet
but ultimately engaging collection of 15 songs,
a little softer (and older, and wiser) and less
aggressive than Moving Targets, but eminently listenable
nonetheless.
HUNTERS
& RUNNERS – “I Was The Ghost”
EP (Bright & Barrow)
Released as a free download on Halloween weekend,
Hunters & Runners’ new EP brings a fresh
jazzy vibe to the NYC indie scene. The music-hall
tone of “Meet Your Maker” suggests what
the Gay Blades might sound like without the snarkiness,
while “Knife” has an almost Steely Dan
like jazz groove. I really like the final track,
“The Ghost,” with its layered harmony
vocals and propulsive melody. This band borrows
a lot of tropes from Sixties pop but makes it all
sound quite modern, a neat trick. Mostly this 3-song
treat makes me eager to see them live. Download
the record at huntersandrunners.bandcamp.com
CARE
BEARS ON FIRE – Girls Like It Loud (carebearsonfire.com)
The three teen gals in Park Slope’s Care
Bears On Fire might not be old enough to remember
the Clinton administration, but they’ve got
a ton of rock’n’roll history packed
into their sound. With echoes of the Runaways and
Go Go’s, the girls four super-catchy originals
and two inspired covers (Tears For Fears’
“Everybody Wants To Rule The World”
and the Marbles’ “Red Lights,”
a club hit back in late 70’s Manhattan.) The
girls’ musicianship and vocals are certainly
solid (they hit the harmonies on “Red Lights”
way better than the Marbles ever did!), but it’s
their songwriting that really impresses: “ATM”
tells off a boyfriend who’s always borrowing
money , with a “whoop whoop” chorus
that will have you dancing around your bedroom.
“What Could I Be” and “Ask Me
What I Am” both qualify a teen girl anthems
that blow away anything Miley Cyrus has ever done,
but even they don’t compare with the brilliant
“Barbie Eat A Sandwich,” a song about
female body image and empowerment. The digital download
(available from iTunes) comes with three videos
- two different versions of “Everybody Else”
from their last record, and a hilarious green-screen
visualization of the Barbie song.
VAL
EMMICH - Looking For A Feeling You Never Knew You
Needed (valemmich.com)
TV fans know him from Ugly Betty or 30 Rock, or
maybe one of his many TV commercials. But here in
NJ, we know Val Emmich is a musician first and actor
second. The singer/songwriter pulls out all the
stops and gives us a taste of everything he’s
learned in his 10-year career on the digitally-released
Looking For A Feeling.... He tugs at the
heartstrings with the piano-driven ballad “Gone,”
pumps up the volume on uptempo indie rockers like
“Don’t Wanna Go Home” and “Next
To Me,” and hits the dancefloor for the beat-heavy
“Sidekick.” Lyrically, many of the songs
return to the same themes, the search for identity
and the difficult passage into adulthood - understandable
for a talented musician who keeps getting cast as
boy toys as an actor. Emmich started on an indie,
went through the major label meatgrinder, and now
he’s self-releasing himself digitally. Do
yourself a favor and download this.
SARIN
McHUGH & THE EVERYMEN – “Rotocoma
Pollution!” EP (myspace.com/ sarinmchughandtheeverymen)
Lo-fi garage punk from the wilds of South Jersey.
Imagine Jay Reatard if someone put a foot through
the speaker in his amp. Mystery man McHugh mixes in
some pop elements (like the Beachy whoo-hooos on “Telephone”)
and some big Spector-ish chordage (along with an old
Blondie hook) on “Dance Only (Only Dance)”
so this isn’t just sonic squalor with a beat.
Although you could certainly call it that too.
KURT
BAKER – Got It Covered (Oglio Records)
Much like the Methadones, Kurt Baker of the Leftovers
has given us an album of his favorite power-pop
classics from the 70’s and 80’s, delivered
with his usual high energy. With the Leftovers on
hiatus (I pray it’s just a hiatus,) Kurt’s
recruited a top-notch backup band for these tunes,
which include Cheap Trick’s “Let Me
Out,” Nick Lowe’s “Cruel To Be
Kind,” and the Vapors’ “Turning
Japanese,” all done with considerable respect
to the originals. Kurt’s strength with the
power-poppy Leftovers – maybe this has something
to do with coming from Portland, Maine – has
been to imbue even the cheesiest sentiments with
a fresh-faced earnestness; he sings everything with
a smile, never a smirk, which allows him to make
even Top 40 AM Radio fodder like Rick Springsfield’s
“I’ve Done Everything For You”
into something resembling punk rock. And with his
lugubrious take on Joe Jackson’s “Is
She Really Going Out With Him?”, Kurt proves
that he always has a career in lounges to fall back
on in case this rock ‘n’ roll thing
doesn’t work out.
SCREAMING
FEMALES – Castle Talk (Don Giovanni Records)
By now most of you will know that Screaming Females
are the red-hot post-punk trio from New Brunswick
with that crazy girl who screams like a banshee and
shreds like Hendrix. And yes, all the reasons why
we fell in love with this band are still present,
but Marissa Paternoster actually reins in the solos
and keeps the shrieking to a minimum here. Castle
Talk features more in the way of actual singing and
– holy smokes – Marissa’s started
rhyming and enunciating so you can actually hear the
lyrics. These are songs now, not just awesome collections
of sounds, riffs, and hooks stitched together. While
all eyes (and ears) remain focused on Paternoster,
it should be noted that bassist “King Mike”
Abbate approaches Mike Watt-ian levels of melodic
bass here, completing songs that would be lacking
a vital piece without his contributions. The way the
bass and guitar play off each other, giving each room
to breathe on the electrifying “I Don’t
Mind It” gives an early harbinger of the growth
evidenced on this album. Meanwhile Jarrett Dougherty’s
grounds the band with a steady but unshowy barrage
of percussive propulsion. Given all the superlatives
I’ve showered on this band in the past, it’s
actually a little scary that they’re still getting
better; but Castle Talk goes places the Screamales
haven’t been before, and it makes you salivate
at the thought of where they might take this next.
GEOFF
USELESS – Don’t Stop (Livid Records)
Geoff Useless has long been a master of ultra-catchy
power-pop and pop-punk in bands like The Guts and
She’s A Guy (he’s also toured as a member
of the Queers.) But on “Don’t Stop,”
he indulges his country side, adding a lot of twang
(along with some pedal steel, fiddle, and acoustic
guitars) on a collection of bright, sassy cowpunk
tunes. While the instrumentation and arrangements
go country, Geoff’s ingratiating, boyish vocals
still sell the tunes, his lyrical wit remains intact,
and of course country-western’s as catchy as
pop-punk anyway. Geoff throws in a Beatles cover (“I’ve
Just Seen A Face”) and a Guts cover (“Easy
Come, Easy Go,”) and there are still traces
of Geoff’s pop-punk proclivities on some of
the backup vocals and power-pop choruses. Your enthusiasm
for this album will depend on your regard for country-western
tropes and the trebly sound of pedal steel replacing
the usual punk-rock sonics of electric guitars and
bass; but as a longtime Geoff Useless fan (who doesn’t
particularly listen to country,) I thoroughly enjoyed
this change of pace offering.
HOODLESS
– Music For Jerks (hoodlessrocks.com)
Jersey City’s Hoodless play straight ahead Nineties
metal, complete with technical guitar solos and seamless,
razor sharp harmonies on the choruses. It’s
not a style I’m a huge fan of, but if a little
bit of your soul died when Nirvana and the Smashing
Pumpkins knocked Warrant and Alice In Chains off the
charts way back when, this is the band you’ve
been waiting for. That said, I do not approve of the
cover art (heroin or coke being proffered in a spoon)
or song titles like “Be My Whore.” You
can be retro without being stupid, guys.
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