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Review Update: 03/13/05
Can Joann -- The Aiden Grace EP
The First Second -- Self-titled
Humans Bow Down -- A Mirror
Jesse Krakow -- Oceans in the Sun
Malachi Constant -- Infinite Justice
Razor Crusade -- Infinite Water
Ruins -- Vrresto
Something About Vampires And Sluts -- We Break Our Own Hearts
Thin Acid Angel -- Underneath 8th Street
Thunderbirds Are Now! -- Justamustache
Traindodge -- The Truth
Turing Machine -- Zwei
Can Joann -- The Aiden Grace EP
Self-released
First off, I immediately noticed the paper insert for this album
smelled exactly like the community tents we had in Boy Scouts
-- mildew. My guess is that Chapel Hill’s Can Joann have
a basement that is prone to leaking/flooding, and that they’re
storing their excess records down there. See, when you come to
Bettawreckonize you’re not just getting criticism folks,
but keen detective skills as well. But, the real mystery here
is whether the band’s music will stand up to my other keen
senses? I’m happy to report that Can Joann are a perfectly
acceptable pop band – no offensive sounds here per se. “Lady
Luck” has a New York-style garage rock coolness to it,
but also harkens to the Clash a bit – perhaps a little
like Ted Leo, but without the dizzying falsettos. From “Lady
Luck” the EP begins to get a little tiresome; the hooks
just don’t quite stick. To their credit, the overall peppiness
of the band’s sound keeps listening to the duration of
this four-song effort from becoming painful in any way. If the
disc’s worst trait is it is a little boring, I’m
happy to forgive Can Joann. I’ll just keep my fingers crossed
that their next effort really grabs me by the cajones.
-Tim Anderl
The First Second -- Self-titled
Self-released
Is The First Second
a side project between Rob Zombie and Bon Jovi’s band? The
first seconds of both “Ego” and “Speak and Spell” indicate
that it could be a possibility. But, after listening to a few tracks
here I get the impression that even those guys would be embarrassed
to make music this terrible. These are five dudes that definitely
need to keep their day jobs. Oh yeah, Dr. Suess should kick singer
Jessejames’ ass just based on principle -- “Another
Mission” wins the grand prize for “Worst Use of Rhyme
In A Pop Song Ever” (it’s not even worth keying in
here as an illustration – it’s that bad).
-Tim Anderl
Humans Bow Down -- A Mirror
Phratry Records
Humans Bow Down are an indie rock quartet from Cincinnati, Ohio
who play with clockwork precision –drums, guitar and bass
lock together seamlessly, even when the guitars wander out into
the effects soaked cosmos (which they do quite often). Guitar-wise,
these guys have a thing or two in common with Kent, Ohio’s
Gold Circles, Engine Down, Hum and Smashing Pumpkins, while their
rhythm section borrows more from Pinback and Peter Hook (New Order).
While this kind of air tight precision would normally walk a thin
line between clinical and impassioned, Humans Bow Down deliver
a less obvious, but still poignant and palpable, sort of punk energy.
They’re allowing their music to build the dynamics rather
than pushing forward with strained vocal and instrumental melodrama
common to some of their forefathers (i.e. Smashing Pumpkins). These
guys should be extremely proud – they’ve delivered
a damn fine record that I really can’t find fault with.
-Tim Anderl
Jesse Krakow -- Oceans in the Sun
Public Eyesore
I admit that
I’m a lazy critic. It is much easier for me to formulate
the language needed to communicate exactly what I like and dislike
about a band or artist if their music is coming from a place that
I’m familiar with. Borrowing melodies from The Beatles and
The Beach Boys? No problem. Are you in an emo band who spends ever
van ride to and from local dates listening to At The Drive In?
Chances are I’ll pick up on that, and it is very likely that
I’ll be able to bang out a hundred word critique of your
full-length in just a few minutes. When an artist like Jesse Krakow
(also of Time of Orchids), who is a fuggin’ avant musical
weirdo submits his 31-song full-length I really have to work. I
have to come up with stuff like, “Good Warm Friends” sounds
like Perfect Stranger’s Balki Bartokomous fronting Devo in
Bob Pollard’s basement, or “All That What You Know
Is What You Are” could easily pass for a special education
student performing karaoke to the Monkees hits played backwards.
This is all over the map, from the flamenco jams to the rudimentary
dance beats to the out-of-tune plodding to the cartoon character
voices. For every aural headache, there is a moment of hilarity.
For every skronky, backwards melody, there is a half-a-second of
clarity. So while I’m not going to even try to pretend I
know the slightest thing about where these songs are coming from,
and may after 100 listens still never get it, I can say with some
certainty that this album is never going to bore me to tears. Oceans
in the Sun is the musical equivalent of a low-rent version of the
Muppet Show (side note: “Want To Make Fun” is the perfect
theme song for such a production) and I’m going to the balcony
for a better look.
-Tim Anderl
Malachi Constant -- Infinite Justice
Guilt Ridden Pop/Double
Indemnity
Infinite Justice, the latest from St. Paul, Minnesota’s Malachi
Constant is passable, mostly instrumental indie rock that takes
serious cues from Sonic Youth, and maybe Interpol or Three
Imaginary Boys-era The Cure. But with song titles like “Creativity,” “Explosive
height” and “Saigon kick” (which sound nothing
like the 80s band of the same name), I guess I was expecting more
in the way of balls from the quartet. While the band are perfectly
capable with their carefully plucked riffs, buoyant bass lines,
sparingly whispered vocals and snare to high hat dance drums, they
don’t tread much ground that hasn’t already been covered
by other indie rock bands of the same ilk. The end result is a
slightly promising album, I guess, that isn’t going to captivate
me for very long.
-Tim Anderl
Razor Crusade -- Infinite Water
Deathwish Inc./Reflections Records
Remember when hardcore was populated by bands like Helmet,
Refused and Quicksand and not the eyeliner wearing, hundred
dollar haircuts
with instruments that Fuse TV is passing off as hardcore these
days? Netherlands-based Razor Crusade do. Heavy, jarring rhythms
and muted grooves dominate the mix here. A fiery intensity seethes
throughout this entire album, even when the boys slow it down a
notch for “I Wish You Were Me,” the most radio friendly
of the bunch. Infinite Water is an extremely focused effort – a
disc with real balls that doesn’t cut any corners or try
to disguise bad songwriting with dime store riffs from the Iron
Maiden fakebook. Remind me to send Deathwish Inc. a thank you note.
-Tim Anderl
Ruins --Vrresto
Skin Graft
Leave it to Skin Graft and two absolutely gnarly Japanese dudes
(Yoshida Tatsuya and Sasaki Hisashi) to deliver the first album
in Bettawreckonize’s four year run that has totally and completely
skull fugged me. I’d be totally at loss for words if I didn’t
know that I had to deliver some semblance of a cohesive review
here. Vrresto, which was originally released in 1998,
but has been extensively remixed and remastered, is an album stuffed
to the
gills with mind-boggling tempos, hyper speed vocal freak outs,
jarring textures and absolutely bizarre instrumentation. It defies
genre; the closest I could come would be to combine the words psych,
avant garde funk, art rock and metal in some completely random
way. Vrresto is also totally in Japanese (I think…) and will
leave the casual indie listener (gender: male) absolutely emasculated
(i.e. with an extremely “shy turtle”) in the groin
region.
-Tim Anderl
Something About Vampires And Sluts -- We Break Our Own Hearts
Morphius/VMS
Something About Vampires And Sluts have their hearts
in the right place. They’ve listened to enough Head on
the Door-era The Cure and Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark
to know how a punk-influenced
dance record should sound. They’ve got the menacing post-punk
sound nailed. Public Image Limited-style, half puked vocals, check.
Instrumentally, they manage to land a few angular, and acidic swings
in the same territory where the best new wave inspired bands around
today (Trillion Barnacle Lapse, The Cinema Eye, etc.) are making
headway. But, I can’t avoid the feeling that this could have
been a little glossier, a little funkier, or just a little less
affected. This feeling comes to a head during the band’s
cover of Jawbreaker’s “Jet Black.” They manage
to blow most of the heat out of this musical scorcher with canned
drum machine beats and poorly delivered vocals. Though this album
might earn the attention the black nail polish and skinny tie wearing
punk set, they aren’t yet the kind of band that will bring
a tear to the eyes of Robert Smith or Johnny Lydon.
-Tim Anderl
Thin Acid Angel -- Underneath 8th Street
Self-released
Thin Acid
Angel may one of few respectable bar bands to surface since Black
Sabbath and Motorhead (especially “Hand To Receive”).
First track “Devil’s Ride” proclaims, “Up
all night with the pedal to the metal/Had enough?/I said hell no!” and
sets the perfect pace for the rest of the balls-to-the-wall rockin’ you’ll
find here. Singer Minor Gray sounds just a tad affected from time
to time (“Dead Bodies”), but at his worst he still
sounds like he could knock Billy Idol’s block off. In tempo,
flair and sheer rock heroics the band clocks in somewhere between
Guns and Roses, Murder City Devils, and The Black Halos most of
the time. This should earn them oodles of indie street cred, and
a righteous head nod from the denim and leather wearing long hairs
who’ve been waiting for these dudes since the at least the
early 80s.
-Tim Anderl
Thunderbirds Are Now! -- Justamustache
Frenchkiss Records
TAN! May be from Detroit, but please don’t mistake them for
a bunch of fuckknobs in leather jackets regurgitating garage rock.
These dudes are a powerhouse indie dance band of epic proportions;
plus they’re hilarious. Imagine the Muppets’ Electric
Mayhem band adding some sequencers and keyboards to the mix, and
getting retarded on caffeine pills and “pimp juice” before
performing Brainiac and Duran Duran covers and you’re still
barely in the ballpark. Every jam on this disc makes me want to
spazz out, wear a unitard, make sweet love and punch a really mean
dog in the nuts a bunch. P.s. Really hot indie girls with cute
and messy haircuts who love to dance are gonna wanna french these
guys, like a lot.
-Tim Anderl
Traindodge -- The Truth
Ascetic
Norman, Oklahoma’s Traindodge want
you to get the most bang for your buck. So instead of delivering
your run of the mill full-length, The Truth is a double-length – two
discs of distorted guitars, swirling synths, and sing/shout vocals.
And, the songs on these two discs swell to the heights common to
only the best indie and prog rock. Fans of Juno and Jawbox will
appreciate the driving rhythms, while fans of lusher musical pastures
will appreciate the band’s willingness to explore quieter
passages, incorporate samples, and tinker with synthetic sounds
(reminds me a little of Antarctica, the band not the place, during
the first disc’s earlier numbers). Critics will probably
fault the band for not using some form of “quality control” to
weed their efforts down to a single disc. But I say, if you’ve
got it, which Traindodge clearly does, go ahead and flaunt it.
-Tim Anderl
Turing Machine -- Zwei
Frenchkiss Records
Instrumental drum-bass-guitar trio create a throbbing, psychedelic,
and down-right rocking clatter that can be used to either peel
paint from the walls or to get the party started when cranked to
the appropriate decibels. Turing Machine (comprised of a couple
guys you may also recognize from minor indie deities Pitchblende
and Vineland) are perpetrating feats of maximum skronkitude that
puts the “mental” back in instrumental. It just occurred
to me that I met the band some years ago when they played the Safari
Club, a dive in one of the Gem City’s most, err, intense
neighborhoods, while they were out in support of one of their Jade
Tree Records. I think we discussed mullets, or some other underwhelming
phenomenon before these guys turned the place on its ear with their
combination Detroit by-way-of Germany, instrumental psyche/garage
Kraut rock sound. Any band that will shoot the shit (with subject
mater as low brow as the dreaded “ape drape”) with
a wannabe rock critic from Ohio without cringing before taking
the stage to do that kind of genre bending are maximum dude and
have my highest endorsement.
-Tim Anderl
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