Ted Leo and The Pharmacists - 'The Brutalist Bricks'

In these modern times, the world needs Ted Leo. Both on good days (Congress gave U.S. citizens health care forever!) and bad (My girlfriend’s neighbor lost her dog yesterday!). On The Brutalist Bricks, Leo and his backing band The Pharmacists blend the personal and political yet again on this, their sixth solo album of Celtic punk ‘n’ power pop songs. My Catholic guilt is smacking me something fierce for ever doubting he didn’t have another album in him.

While Leo’s sound has remained consisted throughout his career – Joe Strummer, Elvis Costello, Paul Weller, and Billy Bragg in a musical orgy – there are slight alterations that differentiate his albums. Brutalist Bricks is more concise than the double album-length Living With the Living and less indebted to Thin Lizzy’s guitars than The Tyranny of Distance… which I guess puts it in league with the similarly stripped down punk fervor of Shake the Sheets.

In some ways, the record is unfocused. The songs don’t always segue gracefully. The last two or three tracks could have been excised in favor of a tighter album. The intro to “Bottled Up in Cork” has little to do with the rest of the song, either lyrically or musically. And yeah, Leo has a habit of making pub-ready rock without anthemic choruses – dude loves words.

But these problems are slight. Bricks is yet another stellar record from Leo. Remember when I knocked “Bottled Up in Cork” earlier? It’s also my favorite song on the album. Tons of reviews have quoted the song’s opening line – “There was a resolution pending on the United Nations floor / In reference to the question, ‘What’s a peace keeping force for?’” – but none I’ve read so far bothered to mention that the rest of the song is about traveling through Europe and getting in touch with family. I’m pretty sure Leo is still haunted by the ghost of the Bush years (“Your tribuneral mockeries of justice still dog my steps”), and I relate to that sentiment quite a bit. I also enjoy the guitar solo.

The first 10 tracks of the album are also great. “The Mighty Sparrow” opens the album with Leo’s trademark nervous energy, complemented by drummer Chris Wilson’s appropriately frenetic beats. “Mourning in America” ups the ante with a wall of guitar noise mixed with quietly menacing verses. “Ativan Eyes” and “Even Heroes Have to Die” chase “Mourning” with a poppier chorus. Contrastingly, there are some outright punk jams like “The Stick,” “Woke Up Near Chelsea,” and “Where Was My Brain?”.

The Brutalist Bricks put a spring in my step before Pennsylvania thawed out last week. Now that the weather is clearing up (today’s rain clouds notwithstanding), it’s a logical choice for feel-good jams 24/7. As the years pass, it’s good to know there are rockers like Leo out there, continuously tossing out quality tunes for the downtrodden.

Ludlow Lions - 'No Stories'

Folks, I like to think of myself as a moral man. I don’t commit mass murders. I visit my grandparents on occasion for a hearty conversation. But when White Crosses, the new record from rock group Against Me!, leaked, I found myself beset by demons. Evil, piracy-advocating demons with names like Michael_Jackson_Jordan and ZachLeg. Oh, but I fought them but good. “Leave me be!” I cried. “I am a man who appreciates physical releases AND compensating artists for their work!” One day at a time, I will fight this temptation. Surely, the Internet can be used for good too, right?

One group that strictly uses the Internet (FACT: It’s a series of tubes!) for good is indie rock dancemeisters Ludlow Lions. Last year, the group released No Stories online for a pay-what-you-feel-like price. Donations are charity! Charity is something religious groups enjoy besides war and white elephant sales! The name itself is probably a reference to the charitable organization from Ludlow, Mass. This year, the record finally gets a physical release, making fuddy duddies like me stoked.

The group specializes in smooth, catchy, danceable pop tunes, like Maritime or a less spastic Dismemberment Plan. Opener “Keyboard Teeth” kicks off with a rough guitar part before a cascading melody pulls it into dreamier territory. Drummer Adam Cristgau’s punky percussion on “Scopes Climbs a Tree” provides a ferocity that blends well with the ambient orchestration. Same for “Song For Matt Quinn.” Closer “It’s a Personal” goes out on an epic note.

While there are a few bumps along the way – “New Cold War” is supposed to be sarcastic but just comes off as stupid and limp – No Stories is a pleasing lil indie rock record. It’s expertly sequenced, with airy fare like “Treasure of the Guerra Madre” sharing space with more driving arrangements like “I Didn’t Know.” While the group is self-releasing their music this time out, it’s hard to think of them as flying solo for too long.

Lighten Up - 'Absolutely Not'

On their full-length debut Absolutely Not, Philadelphia locals Lighten Up turn out the kind of fast-paced, 120-seconds-or-less hardcore of Paint It Black, Kid Dynamite and Static Radio NJ. Sure, vocalist Perry Shall recalls Aaron Bedard of Bane more than he does, say, KD’s Jason Shevchuk, but anyone who knows the many joys of CVA and Shorter, Faster, Louder should be down with the Lighten Up sound.

Absolutely Not’s 12 songs clock in at 17 minutes. Final track “Personality Implants” is kind of a waste, though. A five-and-a-half-minute tune featuring the same repetitive, chugging guitar riff, it recalls later period Black Flag, ya know, when they wrote one-minute punk songs that somehow stretched on for five or six minutes. But let’s give the album a mulligan. “Personality Implants” is at the end, so it doesn’t matter if folks are playing the album on CD or vinyl; they can still get out before things go wrong.

“Personality Implants” aside, though, the remaining 11-and-a-half minutes are pretty tight. The songs are all under two minutes – the humorous, hometown-referencing “Boyz II Wolves” is only 15 seconds – and they all pound out some fine hardcore fun. Sure, the tunes blur together a bit, but the album is so short that listeners should be able pick up the distinctions within an hour. Kid Dynamite might have done this style first, but Lighten Up does it justice.

The Lawrence Arms - 'Buttsweat and Tears'

The three years that separate Oh! Calcutta!, the 2006 Lawrence Arms full-length, and Buttsweat and Tears, the band’s recent seven-inch, shouldn’t feel like a huge gap. First of all, it has only been three got-dammed years. Plus, fans were treated to side projects the Falcon and Sundowner during the interim. And yet…and yet…the last time we heard from this Chicago three-piece, George W. Bush was president. The housing market hadn’t gone to crap. The seminal film The Marine starring John Cena was still months away from hitting theaters. The world as I understand it now did not exist. That lends a slight air of nostalgia in spinning this, a five-song EP whose name and cover are perfectly matched.

But nostalgia only goes so far. So yeah, it’s cool to hear Buttsweat pick right up where Calcutta left off. Fans still get Chicago punk at its best. Co-vocalists Brendan Kelly and Chris McCaughan are trading the mic a little more this time around (although still not as much as on The Greatest Story Ever Told, a record that lives up to its title). The guitars are crunchy, although the band does incorporate the occasional country/folk influence, like on the comparatively soft closer “The Redness in the West.” Oh yeah, and every song is totally awesome.

See, the Larry Arms write fast songs about getting drunk, juxtaposing high concepts (sadness, the changing of the seasons, existentialism) with low art (Saturday Night Live, Half Baked). They’ve been doing it well for 10 years now, and they do it well here. “Spit Shining Shit” kicks off the vinyl, and it’s clear that the Larry Arms are still one of the best punk bands around. It’s a thrilling three-minute burst about small-minded people and the need to get away from them, opening with guitar and vox before drummer Neil “Tennessee” Hennessey brings the rock. Improbably, follow-up “The Slowest Drink at the Saddest Bar on the Snowiest Day in the Greatest City” is even better. This time the guitar intro is snarling. The topic is in the title, and McCaughin’s lyrics effortlessly flow from him, bouncing off rhymes and scene description like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Lines like “I walk through the snow to a bar where there’s no one I know / Drink slow, drink slow with nowhere to go / And when I leave I’ll be singing this song / Summer’s gone / Carry on / I’m a ghost in the dawn” astound time and again.

“Them Angels Been Talkin’” hits on the flipside and it’s another rocker. Those who buy the digital version are then treated to a bonus track, “Demons,” although everyone and their mommas can get up ons this beauty via Spin.com. The fact that it’s free makes it even more of a must-hear – and makes me wonder how many more songs TLA has in storage. Can we score a full-length, please? But first I need to talk up “The Redness in the West.” It starts out somber, with Kelly talking again about feeling worn down and wasted before turning into a self-help mantra: “We’re gonna fuck ’em all when we get there.”

If there’s a complaint to be had with Buttsweat and Tears, it’s that it’s over too soon. It’s been three years and I could use 10, 20, even 30 new tunes. But that’s the beauty of the seven-inch; it’s a perfect salvo. Besides, it makes it easier to back up and put on “Slowest Drink” again. Welcome back boys. It’s been a while.

Los Difuntos - s/t

While a bit long at 40 minutes, Los Difuntos’ self-titled album generally comes off as a stirring love letter to Hellcat Records, combining Rancid’s attitude (and vocals) with Tiger Army’s psychobilly stomp. Spanish for “The Deceased,” Los Difuntos don’t reinvent the wheel so much as take it for a joyride, skirting the edges of goth, rockabilly, and punk without overindulging in any one direction.

I wasn’t kidding about the Hellcat love letter, by the way. Check out track eight, “Memories.” Frontman Christian Torres sings, “You’re my inspiration like yours is Strummer.” Later he says, “Well now that I know you and you know me / My music and my main goals are complete.” Given that Rancid Records released the band’s EP Born, Raised and Passed Away… there is no doubt that Torres is singing straight to Rancid mastermind Tim Armstrong. Which is totally cool. That guy wrote “Ruby Soho.”

For further Rancid romance, hit up track two, “Lucy.” Arguably the strongest track on Los Difuntos, “Lucy” features a duet between Torres and Rancid/Operation Ivy/Devils Brigade bassist/vocalist Matt freakin’ Freeman. The song is about a gal who makes a few dozen poor life decisions, so it’s a little weird when Freeman starts singing in the first person about making mistakes. I guess Lucy smokes 10 packs a day. Still, it’s always awesome to hear Freeman on the mic.

Musically, the record bears a bit in common with Tiger Army as well. The only thing missing from intro track “Rise of the Deceased” are the words “Tiger Army never die.” Surf rock jam “Dirge” is a pretty cool showcase of the band’s musical chops, and the use of theremin sounds deliciously spooky.

Lyrically, though, Los Difuntos come off as a little juvenile at times. “Poseur Josh” really takes this Josh guy to task for, oddly enough, liking psychobilly more than punk rock. “You Don’t Know Me” gets weirdly specific about another douche nozzle (Sample lyric: “Kramer look-alike, you got nothing on me”). And I could do without the gang violence of “Born, Raised, Passed Away (In East L.A.),” although I do get a kick out of the accidentally meta line “Trying to survive in this rancid place.”

Still, fans of psychobilly (also Rancid, Rancid, and Transplants. I mean Rancid) should dig Los Difuntos. The tunes are fun overall, although I’d love to see what the band is capable of once they get passed their Rancid worship. Sure, Armstrong still talks up his love of the Clash, but he also had the cojones and skill to out-Sandinista! that band with Life Won’t Wait.

Lungs - 'Lungs'

Though their self-titled EP contains only three songs, sludge metal quartet Lungs also delivers 32 minutes worth of music. That’s 32 minutes of rocking, screaming, ethereal noodling, and slow-and-sweet-as-molasses chugging. Here’s a quick RIYL for ya: pick any metal band that ever wrote a droning tune – Jesu, Deftones, Isis, Neurosis, Black Sabbath, and so on and so forth. Hell, even post-rock bands like Mogwai and Ghost of the Russian Empire. If you like any of those bands, check out Lungs’ MySpace and stream the EP. It’s good and grungy and stirring. Also, it’s free.

I should also probably mention that these songs are mighty long. Middle track “A Green Sea Dusk” clocks in at nearly 16 minutes in length, while bookends “Eunomia” and “Kinsman” both break the seven-minute mark. Yet somehow Lungs never comes off as masturbatory or too prog-rock-y, although one could argue that these songs could have been broken up into smaller, easier to digest songs, a la Portgual. The Man. Still, as is, Lungs is a heavy heaping of pounding, swirling metal for kids who don’t care about Satan or dragons or whatever, and more than just a teaser for the band’s eventual full-length debut.

La Strada - 'La Strada'

Light and airy. Those are the words for describing the self-titled EP from New York’s La Strada. Thanks to frontman James Crafts’ vocals, the group passingly resembles any Dan Bejar band, most notably the New Pornographers circa Challengers. I’d even say La Strada (Italian for “The Road;” French for… the Strada) recalls the softer side of Neutral Milk Hotel, but I wouldn’t want to oversell the EP. Because if there’s one thing La Strada doesn’t need, it’s hype. Hype builds false expectations. And while the EP doesn’t exactly knock out six life-changing tracks in a row, it does feature some really, really nice songs. Like North Carolina’s Bowerbirds, La Strada specializes in gentle, pleasant indie/folk songs.

“Orphan” opens the disc quietly, with drums, then guitar, then accordion. It’s like softly waking up, which makes the song’s opening lines (“Wake up you silly / Shake your sleepy head”) all the more fitting. It’s a warm, inviting beginning, which extends throughout. Though more prevalent percussion adds a little more kick on track two, “Sun Song,” La Strada generally sticks with that formula.

The nearly seven-minute-long “Starling” aims for more ambitious territory at the EP’s end. With so many musicians (seven, plus guests Tim Albright and Rachel Elliot on trombone and bassoon on half of the songs), La Stada teeters on the edge of orchestral indie rock, never fully embracing that genre’s sense of the dramatic until “Starling.” You could say that shit gets real, with bombast and swelling arrangements. It’s cool to see these folks can get cut loose, and it adds more hope for a strong full-length in the group’s future.

Land of Kush - 'Against the Day'

The book is (almost) always better. The “Harry Potter” series, The Natural, The Passion of The Christ… these are examples of that saying. Sure, there are exceptions (The Godfather, despite reducing the female characters significantly, is still superior as a film), but for the most part, transferring a book to another medium is a bad idea. Pacing, spacing, and flavor are all lost, either to create a work that hits all the plot points without any soul or one that attempts to capture the spirit without all those pesky facts. Either way, most adaptations become dependent on their source material. Which is why, at least in the case of the Land of Kush’s Against the Day, it helps to adapt something that’s loose, roaming, and experimental.

Those adjectives could also describe the record itself. The Thomas Pynchon book of the same name is over 1,000 pages long, spans decades and continents, and yet for all its length has the simplest semblance of a narrative. Land of Kush’s record only spans an hour, but it leaps from coherence to ambiance and back almost on a whim. Intended as homage to Pynchon for “permanently fucking my mind” by composer Sam Shalabi, Land of Kush dabbles in orchestral psychedelic pseudo-jazz. With almost 30 musicians employed to recreate Shalabi’s vision of Pynchon’s vision, Against the Day has quite a few instruments at its disposal. How well it succeeds for listeners depends on two factors.

First, this isn’t a “books on tape” translation. Shalabi’s attempts to honor Pynchon’s writing are, oddly enough, mostly nonverbal. Though the record does include lyrics in certain movements, like on sections of “Iceland Spar” and “Bilocations,” Against the Day isn’t a literal adaptation, and could be thought of more as an artistic response to the book. The music conveys certain emotions Shalabi felt while reading.

And, wonder of wonders, it sounds like he spent a lot of time being bored out of his skull. Against the Day drones a lot. And not like shoegaze or stoner metal; Kush makes those concepts sound like tangible pop trifles by comparison. “The Light Over the Ranges,” the opening piece, is almost all buzzing and moodiness. It feels like it’s building towards something, but seven-and-a-half minutes long, it sure takes a while to create anything coherent, or least segue into something that is, namely track two, “Iceland Spar.”

Cue vox and Middle Eastern touches for a few minutes, and then Shalabi and his band return to formlessness by the end of track three, the 21-minute “Bilocations.” But, again, it leads to something. The title track is righteous and furious and rocking. This is the rising action which the record has been leading towards, and with searing guitar segueing into droning synths, it’s a worthwhile wait. “Rue du Départ” wraps it up, though it takes eight-and-a-half minutes to do so.

Against the Day (the book) requires patience. So does Against the Day (the album). But the payoff, track four of five, justifies the slow, maddening introduction. How much it honors the book largely falls into the slippery bullshit slope of symbolism, and perhaps, to a certain extent, it’s better to think of the two as separate but equal.

Playlist: Ted Leo/The Pharmacists

In an effort to generate mo' content, I figured I'd share some playlists on my iPod. Whenever I try to make a mix, I opt to keep it short enough to either burn to a CD (> 80 minutes) or commit to a tape (> two hours). The 80 minute rule is good because it A) forces me to stick to the best of the best, B) makes it easier to get multiple plays, and C) can be burned to a disc for friends if they ever ask for a sampling of a given artist.

I have a tradition of listening to everything I have from a band before seeing 'em live, which I practiced with great authority prior to the Against Me!/Ted Leo show last week. My high school years featured Hearts of Oak and Tell Balgeary, Balgury Is Dead (Plus Solo) in heavy rotation, and it's been a while since I've listened to that much Pharmacists (and Chisel) material. Not that I ever lost the faith; I loved last year's Living With the Living. Last week was just a really good listening experience, one that made me remember why I loved Ted Leo in the first place.

After playing through my collection (74 Pharmacists songs, 25 Chisel ones) at work, I made a 21-song Leo playlist that clocks in at 77.5 minutes. It's hard to mix each album together; they all sound like a Ted Leo creation, but with their own unique sound. Regardless, I've been listening to it on and off for the last two-ish weeks, and I like it a lot. Hopefully, you'll feel the same. And be sure to post your own Ted Leo playlist, if you like.

Ted Leo!
1. "Building Skyscrapers in the Basement," Hearts of Oak
2. "Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone?", Hearts of Oak [Might as well lead with the opening tracks of my favorite Leo record. Dude knew what he was doing when he sequenced it.]
3. "The Sons of Cain," Living With the Living
4. "Loyal to My Sorrowful Country," Sharkbite Sessions
5. "Ballad of the Sin Eater," Hearts of Oak
6. "Bomb. Repeat. Bomb.", Living With the Living [Ef you Nate Adams!]
7. "Tell Balgeary, Balgury Is Dead," Hearts of Oak
8. "A Bottle of Bucky," Living With the Living
9. "Biomusicology," The Tyranny of Distance
10. "Parallel Or Together?", The Tyranny of Distance
11. "Timorous Me," The Tyranny of Distance
12. "I'm Looking Through You," This Bird Has Flown: A 40th Anniversary Tribute To The Beatles' Rubber Soul
13. "Me And Mia," Shake the Sheets [Eff you Nate Adams 2x!]
14. "Shake the Sheets," Shake the Sheets
15. "Little Dawn," Shake the Sheets
16. "The Latest Dart," split with The One AM Radio
17. "Dirty Old Town," Tell Balgeary, Balgury Is Dead (Plus Solo)
18. "The Great Communicator," The Tyranny of Distance
19. "Ghosts," Tell Balgeary, Balgury Is Dead (Plus Solo)
20. "Since U Been Gone / Maps," live
21. "Rappaport's Testament: I Never Gave Up," Mo' Living

Ladybirds - 'Regional Community Theater'

Regional Community Theater accurately sums up the full-length debut from cross-country duo Ladybirds. While the mainstays of the project are candy-coated singer Teeter Alex Sperber and Gym Class Heroes keyboardist Tyler Pursel, the album boasts guest appearances from Say Anything mastermind Max Bemis on two tracks, as well as one-offs from Matt Pryor (The New Amsterdams/ex-Get Up Kids), Neil Sabatino (Fairmont), Justin Johnson (The Danger O’s), and a bevy of pre-teens. The kids seem especially appropriate for this album, as Ladbyirds, more often than not, sounds like Lazy Town with less awesome hooks, criminally fewer songs about pirates, and copious amounts of angst.

The immaturity of the record coupled with synthy dance beats make this emo-lovin’ boy cringe. “And in a mystery to be/When time to time shall set us free/Forgetting me/Remember me,” says frontwoman Sperber on the Ya-Ya sisterhood-aping opening track, “Slice Our Hands (We Are Blood Sisters).” Alas, this high school poetry is one of the best tunes on a slipshod, Hillary Duff-lite album.

Due to the low quality of the songs, having such an assortment of guest stars on Regional Community Theater damns it all the more. Bemis, Sabatino and Johnson are pretty much wasted here, although Bemis’ second track, “Maxim and the Headphone Life,” does play like the G-rated kid sister to “Wow, I Can Get Sexual Too.” Take that as you will. Not that the guys don’t try; they just can’t save the material. Pryor gets credit for the melodramatic piano ballad “Cooper, Thanks for the Birds,” if only because the song could be a decent New Amsterdams track – provided Sperber shuts the hell up.

Not that the record is completely terrible. Pursel’s compositions for Regional Community Theater are solid enough. It’s a dance record, and he provides the listener with such, although the low end could use some more cojones. The weak point is in the lyrics – they suck. Hard. “Always we’ll be searching/For something/Something perfect” goes the first part of the chorus to “Slice Our Hands (We are Blood Sisters).” Drop the cred bid via enlisting Bemis and Pryor and try writing as well as them instead.

Lozen - 'Enemies Against Power'

Hailing from Tacoma, WA, that state that gave us grunge bands like The Melvins, Bikini Kill, and, oh yeah, Nirvana, is Lozen. The duo recently released its Australian Cattle God debut, Enemies Against Power, and while it sounds awesome in theory (two lovely ladies smashing out sludge rock in the spirit of the WA bands mentioned above), the album doesn’t know when to knock it off, pummeling the listener with repetitive drudgery.

Clocking in at 50 minutes, there is little to distinguish one of the album’s seven tracks from the next, with the exception of album opener “Breech,” which begins with emotive, Heart-esque vocals before kicking into sludge territory. Like a more metal Courtney Love, Lozen pursues some sort of grinding muse amidst noise, but few listeners will care to follow. The longest track on the album at nearly nine-and-a-half minutes, “Breech” sounds like three or four songs aimlessly smacking into each other.

Enemies Against Power engages a steady decline from there on in. “Made With Love,” Unspeakable Truths,” “Heart of Filth”… they’re all interchangeable and unlikable. Each track is roughly three times longer than necessary, churning and churning until all interest is turned out. Part of what made similarly grungy albums like Nirvana’s Bleach or Black Flag’s My War brilliant was their brevity. Granted, those two albums are just 8-10 minutes shorter than Enemies Against Power, but the song total is a lot higher too. This stuff is cliché sludge metal, slow and turgid and terribly dull.

On the flipside, though, it’s female-made, a rarity in all forms of metal. In the event that you do enjoy your riffs as dirty as possible, Lozen might fit right in. But be warned: Lozen is so sleepy it may cause unconsciousness.

The Leftovers - 'On the Move'

Much like Spock, Superman and Jesus Christ, pop punk won’t stay dead. The genre’s latest corpse slingers: The Leftovers and their album, On the Move. Delivering pop-punk in the vein of the Ergs!, Allister, MxPx and, ya know…the Ramones, On the Move recycles a ton of riffs and topics but still delivers everything all of the pinheads across America could possibly want.

Album opener “Run Real Fast” sets the record's game plan within 10 seconds of its start -- chugging, simple power chords, frenetic drums and bubblegum lyrics abound. Lyrically, the song consists of chasing tail, trying to avoid a beatdown and needing shock treatment, three very pop-punk sentiments. With an Elvis Costello-like croon, the Leftovers recall an encounter with a super cute female-type person with a “leather jacket and Weasel pin.” The Screeching Weasel reference isn’t just a plea for credibility, though, as Ben Weasel himself produced and sequenced On the Move. Peppy and fun, “Run Real Fast” is a worthy introduction to the Leftovers.

The same bubblegum surf rock fun continues on track two, “Dance with Me.” It’s a toss up as to whether “Run Real Fast” or “Dance with Me” is the more infectious track, but what’s undeniable is that the two make for a sugarcoated one-two blast of pop-punk righteousness. “Dance with Me” keeps up the loser-in-love pose, innocent and desperate á la Buzzcocks. There are few giddier pleasures than when the band drops out before one final rousing chorus of “Dance with me, dance with me / And take my hand and walk with me, walk with me / I think you’re gonna be the one baby, one baby.”

There’s 11 tracks following “Run Real Fast” and “Dance with Me,” and they all follow the same pop-punk formula. Some are just under two minutes; some are just over. But they’re all basically the same. As catchy as something like “Lose Your Head” can be, listeners could very easily confuse it with lesser tracks like “Camel” up until the chorus. This problem is basically the only offense one can charge On the Move with, that it is homogenous to a fault. Fuck Fall Out Boy all the same, though; much like their contemporaries the Ergs! and the Steinways, the Leftovers are bring back pop-punk for realsies.

Lafcadio - 'Kibosh'

I want to be friends with the dudes in Lafcadio. If their record Kibosh is any indication, they’re neat-o duders. The album design is set up like a summer fashion catalog, and I’m all about metal guys with awkward facial hair and pastels. Kibosh’s song titles (“If Someone Asks You If You Are a God, You Say Yes,” “Don’t Make Me Fight You, Old Man”) hint at a good sense of humor and sexxxcellent music taste. And hey, the tuneskis aren’t too bad either.

Kibosh is of the technical hardcore sort, with a bit of proggy wankery thrown in to differentiate the record from your average Botch tribute act. Basically, if you dig 2112 and American Nervoso in equal proportions, you’ll fit in fine with these Midwestern men. Eschewing off-kilter rocking for the occasional ambient, but still off-time, atmospherics, the record oscillates between two styles for its 28-minute running time. This is for the best. Though I don’t deny the group’s chops, I find myself bored after a while by the band’s rhythms. I’d rather just spin something like The Bouncing Souls on repeat.

But gosh dignity dang do I respect the fellows in Lafcadio. They use sludge, metalcore, prog-rock, and straight metaly metal as their dipping sauces, and that’s A-OK with me.

The Loved Ones - 'Build & Burn'

“Three chords, yeah they're yours/We stole them from your bottom drawer” - The Nation of Ulysses, “Last Train to Cool”

The boon and bane of punk rock has always been its egalitarian work ethic. Anyone can do this style, as long as they’re honest, and even that’s more of a guideline than a rule. What this often means for the genre is a whole lot of repetitive bashing from most bands. But every so often an album comes out that slightly tweaks the formula. From these minimal changes comes a deliciously radical transformation. Philadelphia punk rock band The Loved Ones has done just that with their aptly titled second full-length, Build & Burn.

Overall, Build & Burn is very much in step with the band’s first album, Keep Your Heart. It’s bookended by the same stomping rhythms, steady power and straightforward lyrics. Sure, some cuts, like “3rd Shift” and “Louisiana” have more of a bluegrass/country/classic rock rhythm. There’s also more harmonizing in the hooks, demonstrated on the perfectly constructed opening track, “Pretty Good Year,” and the addition of second guitarist Dave Walsh allows the band to write more intricate arrangements. But for the most part, it’s still Fat Wreck punk at its best. Uncomplicated and ready to rock, Build & Burn is hopefully a signifier of the great punk to come in 2008.

Where the band truly tweaks its sound is in the middle of the record, though. The biggest sonic shift comes on track five, “Brittle Heart.” More acoustically driven, the song goes from catchy call-and-response verses to long “ohhhhs” in the chorus. It’s like a two-minute-and-39-second-long hook in the vein of Ted Leo or Billy Bragg, while maintaining the same Loved Ones vibe fans might expect. Dig that gnarly guitar during the chorus, too.

The other big surprise is the piano-driven center piece “Selfish Masquerade.” Mid-tempo, dramatic and chock full o’ crunchy guitar like “Selfish,” the similarly centrally placed track from Keep Your Heart, “Selfish Masquerade” runs a little long. But it’s still a solid tune.

Once the album hits track eight, “Louisiana,” Build & Burn starts to rein in its experimentation. With a dash of organ and an explosion of guitar, “Louisiana” strikes a balance between the punk rock Loved Ones have done before and the bluesy classic rock they have clearly been influenced by. When my 52-year-old Bruce-Springsteen-and-Billy-Joel-loving father said he dug this disc righteously (I’m paraphrasing), I knew the band had honored its older sources.

Fans not quite ready to embrace this change in direction (ya wusses) can find solace throughout the album as well. Build & Burn’s first four and last two tracks are closer to the band’s older material. Call it the “build” portion to the middle’s “burn.” “Pretty Good Year” keeps the “I and you” lyrical dynamic and chugging guitars of Hause's songwriting. “The Inquirer” is a good example of how the band writes—with plane crash imagery and indictments towards authority figures, it easily reads as a reaction piece against the Bush administration over everything that’s happened since 9/11. While it offers no solutions, and doesn’t need to be taken as an anti-Bush anthem, it’s still a call-to-arms, a piece for generating discussion and energy.

Build & Burn can be accepted three different ways. Some fans of the band’s older material will enjoy the disc’s first half and bemoan most of the second; while fans of Springsteen and the like might groove on tracks five through eight. Finally, there’s that third group—people like me—who will love this disc from beginning to end. At an ideal half-hour’s length, Build & Burn runs its course quickly and smoothly, begging for a repeat play before it’s even over. That the disc features production and back-up performances from members of The Bouncing Souls and World/Inferno Friendship Society is a tasty bonus.

Lemuria - 'The First Collection'

Buffalo, N.Y. indie rock act Lemuria is just about set to have a productive time in 2008. The band’s Asian Man debut, Get Better, comes out at the end of this month. The band will also be heading out on a label-sponsored tour with The Queers, Bomb the Music Industry!, Andrew Jackson Jihad and Kepi Ghoulie of Groovie Ghoulies fame. But before listeners join Lemuria in this pop-tastically wonderful future, they should check out the band’s past efforts with The First Collection. Gathering 17 cuts from splits and seven-inches, with a demo thrown in at the end, The First Collection is a solid overview of Lemuria. Granted, it’s not entirely representative of the band’s back catalogue (Where are the two songs from the The Ergs! split?), but there’s always room for The Second Collection.

The First Collection opens with the seven songs from Lemuria’s 2006 split with Kind of Like Spitting, Your Living Room’s All Over Me, and they’re arguably the strongest cuts on the disc. Opening with the jangly guitar, off-kilter drumming and organ of “Hours,” everything quickly snaps together in this minute pop ditty. The song is about how perfect everything feels when lying next to one’s lover right before he or she has to get up and start the day. The intimacy and sexuality of the lyrics are found throughout The First Collection, but “Hours” is perhaps the sweetest representation of this style. “We don’t kiss/We just lay there/You’ve got your nose in my hair/Hands on my hips/And you’re wondering/Am I ticklish?” go the opening lines, evoking a lovely image.

Other highlights from the split include “Bugbear,” about the mixed feelings of being separated from a siamese twin; “Keep Quiet,” about looking for love from unavailable people; and “Rough Draft.” Alternating between a punk and post-punk alternative vibe, these songs are catchy at one moment and grinding the next.

The next two tracks, “In a World of Ghosts…” and “Who Would Understand a Turtle?,” come from the band’s contribution to Art of the Underground’s Singles Series. Faster than the Living Room material, it’s equally fun. Also included are cuts from the New York vs New Jersey compilation and a split seven-inch with Frame. The Frame material is the weakest, if only because the production quality is noticeably worse compared to the rest of the disc. Elsewhere, though, strong music abides.

While frontwoman/guitarist Sheena Ozzella’s higher register carries most of the tunes with a layer of cuteness, drummer and primary songwriter (12 of this CD’s 18 tracks) Alexander Kerns is just as solid with deeper, almost bored delivery on tunes like “The Origamists Too” and “Sophomore.”

Closing out The First Collection is the four cuts from the band’s self-titled EP. Although “The Origamists” has a more jagged post-punk sound than what would come later, there’s still much to unify the material with the rest of the album. Take the lyrics; the sexual/sweet imagery prevails with lines like “Today we never put on our clothes/We tried to set a record,” although later the band reminds listeners that, “It might sound dirty/But it’s cleaning curiosity.” “Home for the Holidays” amps the searing guitar over Kerns’ disdain.

After a quick demo entitled “The Origamists II,” The First Collection bows out. At 44 minutes it’s a solid singles collection that won’t test new listeners’ patience, and there are plenty of hooks to be had. While the disc covers material written and released 2005-2006, 2008 might very well be Lemuria’s breakout year.

The Low Budgets - 'Leave Us a Loan'

Emerging from the corpse of Dead Milkmen come The Low Budgets, created by milk master Joe Jack Talcum and Chris Peelout of Town Managers. OK, granted, The Low Budgets’ new album Leave Us a Loan, comes like 12 years after Dead Milkmen broke up, but it’s kind of fitting given that Leave Us a Loan is all about being a broke slacker, eh? [I later found out this was their like 3rd release, so this sentence doesn't actually work.] It’s like a punk rock magicicada… that hates cops.

Leave Us a Loan is brimming with humor and dirty ’77 punk chops. Album opener “Asthma Attacker” kicks things off with a quick dirge of distorted guitar and screeching organ. Talcum’s keys give the songs a unique sound. Sort of like Blondie in that sense, but not really.

The humor of the album is best displayed by tracks like “Clark Park After Dark,” a mostly instrumental tune that concludes with this exchange:

“Hey, do you know how much money I made last year?”

“How much?”

“A hundred bucks.”

The pride inflected into that last line is what sells the joke. Another standout is “Wipe My Ass With the World.” It’s got a fairly standard dosage of punk snottiness (the world sucks). But when the chorus of “I wipe my ass with the world, yeah” spin kicks its way through the speakers, a supporting vocal of, “He wipes his ass with the world,” sung like a vaudevillian showtune, elevates it to an extreme level of catchiness.

The same could be said for “Beer Belly,” an ode to man’s best friend, the beer gut. It’s got one hell of a hook combined with an infectious guitar response, but is also quite silly. “B double E R, Be double L Y” goes the chorus. The song possesses a skewed sort of pop genius. The Low Budgets never take themselves too seriously, and it makes the whole album much more fun.

Leave Us a Loan will satisfy any fan of Dead Milkmen or Chunksaah Records, delivering in the vein of Sticks & Stones and Descendents. Snarky and fuzzed out, The Low Budgets stick it to the Man (“Fat Cop”), capitalism (“Plastic”) and, of course, the world in general (again, consider “Wipe My Ass With the World”).

Bouncing Souls/Lifetime live August 17, 2007

The older I get, the more cantankerous I feel about going to punk shows. Everyone’s younger/stinkier than I am, I can’t relate to the opening bands, etc. But every so often, a tour comes along that’s so rocking, so gosh dang brilliant, that I can’t resist.

Such a bill came to Electric Factory Aug. 17. New Jersey’s favorite mooks, The Bouncing Souls, were headlining a tour boasting support from fellow Garden Staters Lifetime, The Ergs! and Static Radio NJ. From beginning to end, this show was everything a fan of East Coast punk/hardcore would need, chock full of high spirits, chugging power chords and that pop punk staple, the almighty “whoa.”

It’s a shame punk kids have so much trouble with punctuality, though. Sure, anarchy demands no restrictions like timeliness, I guess, but those who were tardy missed out on opening act Static Radio NJ, a band consisting of four energetic Kid Dynamite/Lifetime acolytes. Harsh and powerful, the group recreated the jams from its recent One for the Good Guys EP with ease. While those initially gathered to hear the proceedings were scarce, Static Radio NJ easily won over the crowd with sheer intensity.

Ergs! kept those positive vibes alive with their Ramones-y pop punk and extreme affability. If you cut The Ergs!, they will bleed bubblegum. Fans were in luck, as the spastic writers combined cuts like “Books About Miles Davis,” the single off of the new album Upstairs/Downstairs, with rarities like “Introducing Morrissey,” from the group’s split with fellow pop masters Lemuria. Jammy compared to Static Radio NJ’s taut hardcore, The Ergs! provided looser punk rock while frontman/drummer Mikey Erg served tales of doomed romances. Goofy and fun, The Ergs! are the pop punk band to listen for in 2007.

While the first half of the show featured punk upstarts, the second half brought out the legends, starting with Lifetime. Even though the group has been reunited for about two years now, there’s still a giddy thrill in seeing all five members together on a stage. Heck, these guys were just as stoked to play as the fans were to listen.

Opening with the relatively new single “Airport Monday Morning,” from the comeback album Lifetime, the band roused the crowd to heretofore unheard decibels. As bodies pounded against the stage’s barricade like waves in a storm, Lifetime tore through ’90s classics like “Young, Loud, and Scotty,” “Hey Catrine” and “Rodeo Clown.” After a two-hit combo of “Ostrichsized” and “25 Cent Giraffes,” Lifetime concluded its incredible set.

Emerging to chants of “Olé” and “Here We Go,” the everloving Bouncing Souls pushed the crowd to its limits with rabble rouser “Hopeless Romantic.” While Lifetime was able to give ample time to Hello Bastards, Jersey’s Best Dancers and Lifetime (aka the albums everyone cares about), the Souls have become like a classic rock band—there are so many great songs to cover that no set list will ever be perfect. But the set will always be life-affirmingly awesome. So, while the band’s punk touchstones like Maniacal Laughter, or even last year’s The Gold Record, were a little ignored, there’s no denying that the set was the best thing to happen to Philadelphia since… well, the last Souls show.

Dressed in a magenta shirt and as limber as James Brown, frontman Greg Attonito repeatedly jumped into the crowd and passed the mic around, blending performer and audience into one. Meanwhile, men in black Bryan Kienlen and Pete Steimkopf, along with drummer Michael McDermott, tore at their instruments with fervor. Everything they played set the crowd off. “Kate is Great,” “Lean on Sheena,” “That Song,” “Fight to Live”—in the realm of rock and/or roll, The Bouncing Souls cannot fail.

The Souls almost always serve up a surprise in their encores, and this night brought the audience “guitarmageddon,” as the band put it, for “True Believers.” Lifetime’s Dr. Dan Yemin, as well as Loved Ones frontman/guitarist Dave House and Let It Burn frontman/guitarist DJ Values, appeared with six stringers at the ready, and proceeded to rock out to dangerous levels. Having thoroughly exhausted the crowd with that, the Souls concluded their encore with one final track, “Night on Earth.”

While the band’s lyrics have dealt with break-ups, the Iraq War, growing up and other depressing topics, the songs have always carried this sense that one can climb out of the pitfalls of life and start again. The desire to change the bad around you is perhaps the most punk perspective of all, and that’s exactly what fans got with “Night on Earth.”

“I’ll miss you/but now I’ll know better next time/because I found me,” goes one line from this break-up ballad, and it depicts the Souls’ ethos of perpetual improvement. From 8 p.m. to a little after midnight, this show was punk/hardcore at its finest. Static Radio NJ, The Ergs!, Lifetime and, above all, The Bouncing Souls provided amazing times and quality tunes.

Love of Diagrams - 'Mosaic'

After generating a decent amount of hype in Collegian (a total of four articles in one semester? Yowza!), Australian post-punk act Love of Diagrams has released its Bob Weston-produced Matador debut, Mosaic. Chock full o’ swirling guitars, ambient noises and No Wave-style singing, Mosaic delivers everything promised by the band’s promotional EP, Love of Diagrams, released back in January. While the album is at times derivative of the early ’80s New York No Wave movement, Mosiac is still at least a promising stateside debut from one of Australia’s more popular post-punk bands.

Mosaic opens with “Form and Function.” For new listeners, the track might prove confusing, if for no other reason than that it’s not sung by the group’s frontwoman/bassist, Antonia Sellbach, but rather by backup vocalist/guitarist Luke Horton. Regardless, Horton leads the track well, and the playing on the tune is a good summation of Love of Diagrams’ sound: slightly dreamy, kinda rocking and generally jawesome.

Tracks two and three, “The Pyramid” and “Pace or the Patience,” should be familiar to those who already purchased Love of Diagrams, as they were originally made available there. At times recalling a less-reggae influenced version of The Slits, the two tunes are perhaps some of the strongest ones Mosaic has to offer, and are again atypical of the post-punk style.

Aside from the odd choice of opening the album with “Form and Function,” Mosaic is sequenced fairly well. The post-punk pep of “Pace or the Patience” segues adequately into the more primal, punk-y number “At 100%,” which in turn leads nicely into the instrumental interlude entitled, aptly enough, “Interlude.” The trio briefly jams out while Sellbach drops some sweet, succulent melodica over the whole thing.

By this point, however, Mosaic will have become a tad predictable, perhaps even stagnant, to listeners. “Ms Vs. Export,” “Confrontation” and “All the Time,” while adept, are also interchangeable. Slight variety shows up on tracks like “Double,” which ups the haunting reverb that hangs over the entire album, while the bonus track “Bonus Track” (how about them direct titles?) turns the whole thing down to a whisper.

In comparison to most new millennium post-punkers, Love of Diagrams seems ahead of the curve. But compared to the group’s forebears like Wire or Sonic Youth, the trio still has a ways to go. Mosaic is an entertaining enough listen, but Love of Diagrams has yet to progress beyond their influences.

Latterman - '...We Are Still Alive'

[Still angry that they broke up.]

Heart can take you pretty far. It worked for Rocky Balboa, and it’s certainly working for Huntington, N.Y. punk band Latterman. Constant touring with a dash of Internet buzz has helped raise the band’s notoriety, and it doesn’t hurt that Latterman have recorded some of the best punk jams of the new millennium. The positive vibes and strong self-determination of 2005’s No Matter Where We Go…! offered a brief but brilliant burst of rock that earned the band nods from many a music critic and music fan alike.

A year has gone by since that album, and 2006 offers …We Are Still Alive, which is a direct sequel of sorts to No Matter Where We Go…!. It even finishes the other’s sentence.

…We Are Still Alive continues the “we can do it” ethos of No Matter We Go…!, but does so with far more memorable tunes. Sure, part of what made Matter so fun was its giddy speed and brevity, but those qualities also make it hard to remember more than, say, half the album, really. But the songs on Alive are exactly that, alive. They’re fully fleshed out and ready to make slam dancers pound terra firma.

Album opener “Water Manes at the Block’s End” starts off with sparse xylophone, but swiftly brings in some guitar to liven up the mood. The song is instantly recognizable as a Latterman piece: it’s got all the urgency of Against Me! and The Lawrence Arms, but without any folk influences or random historical references. It’s also ridiculously dramatic, opening with the line, “And if we ran a million miles to get to this place, we’ll keep the pace.” The song also has a nice little guitar solo thrown in, so props for that.

The rest of the album continues to explore personal strength, as well as the band’s experiences playing around the country. “Mumbled Words and Ridiculous Faces” asks why the band soldiers on, while “‘I Decided Not to Do Them’” reminds them that Huntington isn’t like it used to be.

But despite the road weariness that follows the band, “If Batman Was Real, He Would Have Beaten the Crap Out Of My Friends” reveals how alive the band feels. Punk rock has become more than just a musical genre; it’s a lifestyle, one which offers comfort and purpose.

Latterman chides those who think punk died with The Sex Pistols, saying, “If you think punk’s dead, you haven’t met my friends. They’re always at it again and again.” When the song ends with the emphatic “Let’s make our homes in each other’s hearts,” one can’t help but feel it, man.

One thing that fits Latterman perfectly is gang vocals. The songs are so infectiously energetic and optimistic that the tracks pull in and grow from extra voices. On the band’s first album, Turn Up the Punk, We’ll Be Singing, closing track “For Someone So Easy Going, You Sure Wear Pants a Lot” concluded with the line “…and the strength is always there” repeated over and over by a wide array of singers with different styles. Just as that song sums up Latterman, so too does the closing track for …We Are Still Alive, “Will This Be On the Test?”. The band swells like the tide as men and women come together to shout, “If today the ground gives in, I hope we don’t fall alone.”

So basically, …We Are Still Alive is a document of the punk “up with people” mentality, a pseudo-biography about Latterman, a 30-minute pep talk, a rockin’ good time and proof that punk bands can shred, too. That’s a mighty hearty serving for any listener.