Take Manhattan - 'An Audio Coloring Book'

[FULL DISCLOSURE: Greg Simpson and I are both staff writers for punknews.org. We do not know each other personally, nor have we ever met. I have a better chance of meeting staffer Mike French or reviews editor Brian Shultz (only a state away in either direction), or even Sloane Daley up in Godless Canada (my special lady friend is from Ontario). I could call Simpson a butthead on the Internet and there is no way he’d be able to find/stop me (Although, he does have my mailing address, so uh…). In short, yeah, we know of each other, but no, I don’t owe him anything. Cool? Next paragraph, please.]

Dictionary.com and numerous English classes have made me hesitant, even straight up a-scared, of using the word “irony.” “Oedipus Rex” notwithstanding, I’m pretty sure it’s ironic that Org staff writer Greg “Have you heard the Velvet Underground?” Simpson plays drums for Take Manhattan on their stellar debut EP/coloring book ‘n’ crayons kit, An Audio Coloring Book. Given that the dude is a music teacher, it’s not necessarily weird that his playing is tight. What is weird/ironic/WTF is that Take Manhattan is part Orgcore.

Gruff, occasionally nasal vocals. Buzzsaw gee-tars. Songs about drankin’. How the hell did Greg “Dirty Projectors are totally a good band” Simpson end up here? It seems like every so often, some 13-year-old with a misguided hard on for Sid Vicious makes a stink about his reviews not being “punk enough,” yet here he is, in direct defiance of the mall punx, dropping beats for a band that recalls the Gaslight Anthem, Loved Ones and, briefly, non-Org acts like Destroyer and Elvis Costello.

But hey, it’s not like Simpson is the only person in the band. The quartet is fronted by guitarist Scot Gallop, a dude whose vox are so flexible that I had to ask Greg “The Mountain Goats should’ve been higher on my best of 2009 list” Simpson if the singers on “The Trials and Tribulations of Beefy E” and “Tab Kalimotxo” were the same person. Bassist Cara Kinnally takes the mic for “Joy Division,” and the gender switch puts her in league with Lemuria, Discount and the Measure [SA] by default. J. Gillum adds a dash of power pop via keyboards.

So while it’s odd to hear the Org-ish gang vox of two-hit combo “Tiny Fists of Rage and Reason” and the Rancid-leaning “Beefy E,” knowing that Greg “Cymbals Eat Guitars made me choose life” Simpson is playing them, it’s not totally out of nowhere either. The real trick comes on “Tab Kalimotxo,” where the band’s sound becomes more indie rock-ish. Gillum feels more prominent in defining this Dan Bejar-indebted tune, as his keyboard lines push the song further into power pop territory.

The EP trips briefly on its back-half, as “Bloomington Stays” feels stuck between two sounds. It’s not quite as catchy as “Shit’s Got Legs” or “Beefy E,” and then it kicks into a rap breakdown, which is funny if only because the following track, “Rapmaster,” contains no rapping whatsoever. Just as Skinhead Rob ruined “Red Hot Moon,” Andy D’s flow here is goofy and unwelcome. And hey, maybe it was intended as a joke the whole time, but it’s still not very good.

No matter; the danceable “Rapmaster” closes out Coloring Book well, leaving the final count at six catchy, propulsive tunes out of a possible seven. You can decide for yourself: Take Manhattan is giving the EP away for free. Physical albums cost $5, or you can bootleg your own copy for free, since the songs, lyrics and cover art are all legally available online for a low, low price of nothing.

True Widow - 'True Widow'

Between the 13th Floor Elevators and the Secret Machines, I’m convinced that the drugs must be great in Texas. I may one day add True Widow to that list as well. The band’s self-titled debut sports slow, sludgy tunes to that do to Autolux what Black Sabbath did to metal, namely, remove any semblance of blues or danceablility.

Admittedly, the album’s hour-long running time gets a bit too recycled near the end. True Widow is plodding and melancholy and haunting all the time, and the songs kind of blur together after a while. But in smaller doses, the record proves to be a solid collection of doom and/or gloom. The band definitely recalls Autolux whenever bassist Nicole Estill takes over mic duties, while frontman/lead songwriter Dan Phillips recalls the Seattle sound from the late ’80s/early ’90s. I wouldn’t be surprised to find a few Soundgarden albums in his record collection, although I should stress that True Widow is much, much slower than your average “Jesus Christ Pose.”

Still, it’s not half-bad. The record definitely comes off well with opener “AKA.” The M.O. is right there from the get-go with this stoned-out, sludgy jam fest. About halfway through the album, the sixth track “Flat Back” switches up the formula a bit by actually having pep. Yeah, it’s crazy.

I don’t mean to sound redundant, but True Widow is a spacey record, plain and/or simple. It’s there in the druggy vocals of, say, “All You Need.” It’s certainly there in every guitar texture contained throughout. It shows potential for something greater, perhaps a How It Feels To Be Something On-style prog-rock explosion, Z-esque country, or a Future Perfect shoegazer. As is, True Widow is a decent album from a band still in fresh from its formation.

Thought Crime - 'The End of the Beginning'

I’m not proud to admit this, but here goes: I was a teenage Limp Bizkit fan. I can try to justify it – it was 1999! Everybody but Mos Def loved them! And I was done with them by the time I turned 14! So it was really only a year at best! And like I still listened to good music like the Beatles and Tom Petty and Deftones! But I try to avoid revisionist history as best I can. Simply put, eighth grade me was a wiener. I overcame it to become a gloriously emo wiener. Go me.

I’ve been rethinking my childhood lately, partially thanks to repeat viewings of Mortal Kombat, X-Men, and Mystery Science Theater 3000, but also thanks in small part to Thought Crime’s EP, The End of the Beginning. The band doesn’t sound like Limp Bizkit. But since they do bear the relatively more “family friendly” rap-rock sound of Linkin Park and 311, Thought Crime does send me back about a decade in time. While a couple of the EP’s songs recall radio rock a la Hoobastank, the majority of the collection dips into hip-hop territory. That means plenty of cheesy rapping, as evidenced on jarring tunes like “Inner Peace” and “Life That I’m Living.”

To a certain extent, these nu-metal revivalists succeed by avoiding the genre’s most well-known downfall, mook-tastic aggression. The guitar sound isn’t particularly prominent or crunchy. This isn’t exactly the soundtrack to violence. Thought Crime aims for more of a unity theme in spite of depressing lyrics – hence the rap-rock fusion. But while their sound is inoffensive, it’s also kind of boring. While “Waiting for the Day” admittedly features a catchy chorus, The End of the Beginning is still a decade late and a couple singles short. If I wanted a real nostalgia trip, I’d rather spin Lostprophets’ Thefakesoundofprogress or Faith No More’s Introduce Yourself.

Teenage Bottlerocket - 'They Came From the Shadows'

Musical growth is for wankers. Once you know your sound, you own it. Which is what I could say about Teenage Bottlerocket’s latest homage to the Ramones and Screeching Weasel, They Came From the Shadows. Fans get 14 more delectable pop punk tunes bashed out rapid fire. Zero growth. Palate swap the album cover and change the text, and it looks the same as Warning Device. Or Total. Or Another Way. And while claiming a band basically remade a successful record is usually a criticism, it’s perhaps one of the best compliments I could pay TBR. This Wyoming quartet deserves a doctorate in pop punk dynamics; They Came From the Shadows is a compelling study in the genre’s workings.

The topics covered are familiar. Opener “Skate or Die” is yet another awesome skateboard anthem. A good chunk of the record is concerned with falling out with people, from break-ups (“Without You,” “Be With You”) and shitty friends (“The Jerk,” “Do What?”) to society in general (“Not OK,” “Call in Sick,” “Don’t Want to Go”). Body issues crop up (“Fatso Goes Nutzoid”), but the record ends on a happy note, the fast-paced love song “Todayo.” If Warning Device’s self-aware and sparse “She’s Not the One” wasn’t enough indication that TBR understands pop punk, “Todayo” repeats it for stragglers. In pop punk land, it ain’t “Today,” it’s “Todayo.” Extra “O”s are the cornerstone of your diet.

While the whole record is catchy and fast, Shadows shows a few ever so slight signs of wear and tear on the band’s formula. “Bigger Than Kiss,” a Kiss diss track (Say it five times fast! It’s fun!), isn’t particularly funny, but it’s still catchy. And at 14 tracks, repetition is bound to set in. How much someone likes TBR pretty much depends on his or her feelings towards pop punk in general. Do you love Rocket to Russia? Then slam this in your CD player. Oddly enough, while the band pledges allegiance to Kerry King on “Bigger Than Kiss,” I don’t see too many Slayer fans riding this rocket.

But that’s kind of beside the point. TBR is here to get all Boogadaboogadaboogada! deep inside your Subterranean Jungle, if you catch my meaning, and that’s exactly what they do. Shadows is yet another solid release from a band that, so far, has proven incapable of failing. Heck, the title track is about being attacked by monsters (Zombies? Vampires?), and not in a stupid Misfits way. Less than two years after Warning Device, TBR has already dropped another super fun blast of pop punk righteousness.

Thursday - 'Common Existence'

OK, hands in the air; who thought Thursday was going to bounce back from the major label death machine this well? More importantly, who thought that Epitaph Records was ever going to sign a good act again? Ever since the label tried “expanding” a few years back, their roster has been cluttered by shitty acts from all walks of life: rap, metal, and whatever the frick Panic at the Disco clones like The Higher count as have been diluting a once vital punk organization. Thursday’s true return to indie-dom, Common Existence, is a good fit for Epitaph. Both sides prove they still know what good post-hardcore music sounds like.

But enough expounding on Epitaph’s poor life decisions. Common Existence washes the bad taste of Sage Francis and Escape the Fate right out. The record is somehow forward-thinking, further pushing the more atmospheric approach glimpsed at on the band’s split with Envy last year, yet speckled with retro stylings of previous albums. The leading track (and single) “Resuscitation of a Dead Man” is arguably the closest thing the band has done to revisiting their old (pardon the term) screamo sound. There are gang vox and harsh riffs and even some full-on screaming from Rise Against’s Tim McIlrath. In truth, it’s a lot more fluid than Full Collapse ever was – flush with needling guitars and floating keyboard lines – but that chorus is pure 2001.

Hopefully, all those wieners who thought Thursday peaked early (you fools!) will be stroked enough by McIlrath, because Common Existence runs the heck away from that sound for a little while. “Last Call” is a lumbering behemoth of song that has more in common with Ride and Deftones than it does Taking Back Sunday or Hawthorne Heights. “As He Climbed the Dark Mountain” gets recycled from the Envy split, which is only half-disappointing since it’s still a killer tune. “Friends in the Armed Forces” revisits some of War All the Time’s ethereal/heavy attitude. Frontman Geoff Rickley gets as explicit as he can with lines like “I’m sick of tying yellow ribbons / Praying not to see / Another folded flag to a mourning mother / He was an army of one but they’ll find another.” We’ve had plenty of anti-war and pro-soldier anthems in the last six years; this is one of the better songs to blend the two.

The record’s middle drops hardcore for an almost shoegazey effect. “Beyond the Visible Spectrum” starts out rocking, but fades into haze. “Time’s Arrow” cuts through some of the fuzz to offer an acoustic contemplation on abuse in reverse, with some trippy backwards audio to boot. “Unintended Long Term Effects” goes back to rocking balls. Partnered with the more ethereal “Love Has Led Us Astray” (the only song here that feels undercooked) and “You Were the Cancer” later on, it gives the record a pleasing ebb and flow. “Circuits of Fever” opens with eerie feedback, throws in some pounding drums, and then takes its time finding its groove. It starts off like a standard rocker before bassist Tim Payne leads it into a second life as a triumphant toe-tapper.

So, what is Common Existence? Perhaps I can define it by what it isn’t. It doesn’t constantly pummel, which would have been great but grating. Common Existence tries to explore as many vibes as possible for a broader picture. It’s a pretty expansive album. It’s neither Thursday’s darkest (that would be War All the Time) nor their most anthemic (A City By the Light Divided, son!). It’s a bit more distorted than that, and like the black and white photos included, it can get pretty haunting.. Rickley is a little more buried in effects, with the reverb pushed up. The guitar parts are less distinct, blurring together into a beautiful mess. And that’s kind of like life, our common existence, in general.

Tom Gabel live at The Barbary

It’s Wed., Nov. 19, and I’m standing about 15 feet away from Against Me! frontman Tom Gabel as he sets up merch for his show at The Barbary in Philadelphia. He’s distracted, so I think I could give him a wet willy. I could be the one millionth fan to ask him why he signed to a major label. I could try to go “buddy-buddy” and make some sort of reference to his blog – a Curb Your Enthusiasm quote might earn a laugh – or maybe bring up a band we both like. I wonder what he thinks about the new Mountain Goats record? He mentioned liking Tallahassee in an interview once. Or, I can wait for him to move away from the merch table so I can buy a copy of his new 7” (on clear vinyl!) from his wife, Heather. Arguably one of the most important artists in punk rock in the last 10 years, I sheepishly tell her I like her work. She seems legitimately flattered and smiles. Smile achieved, I get the fuck out of there before I say something stupid.

The show starts a little after 7 p.m. Emilyn Brodsky opens the show with a combination of ukele and wit. She messes up a lot of chords and belches during songs; I think she’s nervous and/or buzzed. But she does a great cover of The Cure’s “Friday, I’m in Love.” Her sound is warm and slightly folky – think a punker version of Mirah, I suppose – and she keeps her set down to a half hour.

Gabel goes on around 8 p.m. and opens with a song he just wrote a few days ago, “Bob Dylan’s Dream #12 35.” It’s in line with the material from his new EP Heart Burns, which got a lot of play, in that it’s acoustic and doesn’t quite sound like Against Me!. The song’s story arch revolves around Gabel meeting Dylan in a dream and talking to him about everything except his music career. They go to thrift stores, they race toy cars, it’s beautiful. It also makes me very glad I didn’t ask Tom about Sire Records because there is no way this song is not an allegory.

The set is going really well. It starts off with the new songs, but Tom soon starts digging through his library. Sure, we get “Pints of Guinness Make You Strong” and “Sink, Florida, Sink,” but the true gems are “I Still Love You Julie,” “Walking is Still Honest,” and “What We Worked For.” With just guitar and vocals, the sound is perfect, and Gabel’s voice still sounds charged. He flubs a few chords here and there, but it doesn’t matter; the crowd is so excited to be there. No one moshes per say, but there is some aggressive swaying going on. Gabel pulls out Old Crow Medicine Show’s “Wagon Wheel” from Fat Wreck’s Protect compilation, which is significant because A) the regionally appropriate due to the line about a “trucker out of Philly,” B) it was partially written by the aforementioned Bob Dylan, C) I’ve never heard this song live before, and D) this cover is totally righteous. Reasons C and D also apply to a stirring performance of “8 Full Hours of Sleep.” “Joy” also goes over huge with the crowd.

Near the end of the set, fans storm the stage, which I haven’t seen since before Searching For a Former Clarity came out. Gabel is now completely surrounded by excited, slightly sweaty people. He cannot even get back to his guitar case, let alone leave the stage, so he keeps playing. He plays “Tonight We’re Going to Give it 35%,” from the The Disco Before the Breakdown EP, and it’s thoroughly awesome. I’m on stage and everyone is screaming the words back at Gabel. This is a unitive moment. After the hour-long set ends, I’m asked not to bother Tom, which is not unitive and kind of alienating. But for one hour, I “sang along to the songs I never had the courage to write.” I walk back to my car. It’s 9 p.m.

Thorns of Life (ex-Jawbreaker)

So, as you may or may not know by now, Blake Schwarzenbach, of Jawbreaker and/or Jets to Brazil fame, has a new band called Thorns of Life. He's been pretty coy about the whole thing, but video has started popping up on the ol' YouTubes. The quality is kinda crappy, but it's a taste of (hopefully) shway better things to come:

Teenage Jesus and The Jerks / Beirut Slump - 'Shut Up and Bleed'

For a group that influenced generations of underground bands, you’d like think Teenage Jesus and The Jerks would’ve written more songs. Not that that’s a bad thing, but the innovative act, led by provocateur Lydia Lunch, takes up under 35 minutes of time on Shut Up and Bleed, a new retrospective that also includes Beirut Slump, another of Lunch’s early bands. Factor in a few repeated songs (three versions of “Red Alert?”) and some lo-fi live bootlegs, and it would appear the band barely got going. And you thought Texas is the Reason broke up too soon.

But that brevity gives Shut Up and Bleed a few advantages: First, it’s one-stop shopping for those looking to check out The Jerks’ discography. With multiple takes and the addition of Beirut Slump, the album effectively replaces 1995’s Everything, which you’d think would be hard to do given the title. Secondly, at a total running time of 51 minutes, the collection doesn’t completely overwhelm the listener with its no wave anti-pop stance. And finally third, the band’s output never turned bad.

It’s weird hearing “experimental” music 30 years after its creation – for me, I don’t hear a band tearing down boundaries and destroying the concept of the pop song. I hear a middle ground between the angular rhythms of Joy Division and Wire and the more aggressive, sinister work of Big Black, albeit extremely truncated. Teenage Jesus and The Jerks were all about dissonance – sax squeals, out-of-tune singing, machine gun guitar. The band’s most distinctive elements come from Lunch and saxophonist James Chance. Lunch is the little lady with a huge flippin’ chip on her shoulder here, a teenage runaway ready for a fight, based on the sounds of her songs. When she isn’t hacking away at her guitar, Lunch serves up some quality punk vox on tracks like “Orphans” and “Popularity is So Boring.” While she brings the fury, Chance brings the chaos. The sax is severely underutilized in punk rock, and Chance’s work on Shut Up and Bleed shows just how much uglier the genre can go.

Compared to the incendiary Teenage Jesus and The Jerks portion of the disc, the Beirut Slump songs seem almost conventional. The band didn’t have much of a run; they played three shows total. The band specializes in dreary ranting, creating an almost gothic framework for those who prefer their Cure more Three Imaginary Boys than Boys Don’t Cry. But vocalist Bob Swope doesn’t conjure the same stirring emotions as Lunch, who settled for just playing guitar in the band. And without Chance’s horn contributions, Beirut Slump sounds emptier.

Not that Beirut Slump is bad by any means. The group put out a few worthwhile tunes and, coupled with the Teenage Jesus material, makes Shut Up and Bleed a worthwhile purchase for punk fans looking for a bit of history. If you like post-punk, early Sonic Youth, Exene Cervenka, or pretty much any underground album released after 1979, it might be a good idea to pick up this slice of history.

Against Me! / Ted Leo live October 9, 2008

They opened with “Cliché Guevara.” The band started it off too slow but I decided 10 seconds in that I didn’t care and put everything I had into screaming “1-2-3-4!” The set had just started and my voice was already shot. Lightheaded. Tingling. Should have had dinner. I can tell how out of shape I’ve become since my last Against Me! show based on how quickly I get winded the next time. People used to bear down and beat me from every side and I’d still be able to shout every line; now I’m standing up front but without any violence and I’m winded worse than ever. But I couldn’t stop stomping my feet, bobbing my head, and feeling giddy as hell over the music.

The above is what I felt when I saw Against Me! headline Philadelphia’s Electric Factory Thursday, October 9 with Ted Leo/The Pharmacists and Future of the Left. The show was pretty much amazing from start to finish. The venue took a little while to fill up, perhaps due to the Phillies-Dodgers game, perhaps because it was a school night. It’s a shame more folks didn’t catch Future of the Left. While I was initially repulsed by their post-punk Gang of Four/XTC/PiL/[insert ’80s band here] style, I found myself becoming more and more intrigued with each song. The band is much more aggressive than most post-punk revivalists, putting them in closer league with maybe Mindless Self Indulgence, or maybe even Big Black. The trio was just as entertaining with their banter as they were with their songs, dealing with a heckler by saying, “I don’t come to where you work and interrupt you. I don’t slap the dicks out of your mouth.” Dick jokes rule forever!

Celtic punker Ted Leo was snappy too, chastising a fan for requesting “Since U Been Gone” with, “If we were friends, you would not ask me that.” Mostly, though, Leo just tore through last year’s Living With the Living with the energy of someone half his age. I hope I look that cool when I’m 38. Opening his set with “Sons of Cain,” Leo and his three supporting Pharmacists were irrepressibly peppy. This being my first Leo experience, I was disappointed at the lack of Tyranny of Distance/Hearts of Oak material, but at least I got “Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone?”, which is still my favorite Ted tune, and “Biomusicology.” Besides, hearing songs like “Army Bound” and “Who Do You Love?” bathed in dirty guitar chords, pounding drums, and Leo’s wonderfully expansive voice was worthwhile. Leo is one those performers who I could watch play endlessly; the set list kind of doesn’t matter. I’ll accept Chisel, Trebel in Trouble, sound collages, Kelly Clarkson covers, whatever.

Another highlight was a sloppy rendition of “Little Dawn,” from 2004’s Shake the Sheets. Drummer Chris Wilson had some trouble keeping up with Leo, but the ramshackle rendition felt more alive, or at least more punk-y. The set ended up being too brief at about 45 minutes, but I still felt deeply moved by the band’s energy. Now if only I could get some “Timorous Me” up in here…

As for the black-clad members of Against Me!, well, they played it too safe early on, with set openers “Cliché Guevara” and “New Wave” performed efficiently but too slowly. Things picked up by “White People For Peace.” Drummer Warren Oakes was a flash of arms and wide grins while bassist Andrew Seward brought the crowd the gift of hand claps and intense stares. As for co-vocalists Tom Gabel and James Bowman, well, they’re perfect together. Gabel was guttural, while Bowman’s voice soared thanks to his impossibly kickass lungs.

AM!’s live show has started to scale back from New Wave material, with only six songs from that album showing up. New Wave was still clearly a heavy influence on the set list, but more material from Reinventing Axl Rose worked into the show, including “Walking is Still Honest,” “Those Anarcho Punks are Mysterious…”, and “Reinventing Axl Rose.” Searching For a Former Clarity got some love via “Miami,” “Pretty Girls (The Mover),” “From Her Lips to God’s Ears (The Shaker),” and “Don’t Lose Touch.”

While I enjoyed Against Me!’s main set for its better blend of material past and present, it was the band’s encore that really did it for me. Not that I’m criticizing them, but the group’s live show has become somewhat standardized for a band that tours so frequently. As much as I love New Wave, I’ve heard those songs so many times in the last year and a half. I’d be happy to hear “Problems,” let alone a rarity like “Wagon Wheel” or “Gypsy Panther.” Luckily, Gable delivered in the end.

Gabel is set to tour solo with Hot Water Music’s Chuck Ragan, Avail’s Tim Barry, and Lucero’s Ben Nichols for “The Revival Tour” this month, but that outing won’t hit Philly. Perhaps that’s why Gabel started the encore with “Cowards Sing at Night,” from his upcoming solo EP Heart Burns. He didn’t really explain the lyrics too much, but with a line like “Come back home Johnny / Come back home from Vietnam,” it’s kind of hard not to see the tune as an anti-John McCain song. Anyone who wants to protest the “maverick” who can’t figure out how many houses he owns, let alone how to fix our economy or bring our troops home or use a computer, is OK in my book. The dug-up corpse of Ronald Reagan cannot save you now, buck-o.

The band came out after “Cowards” to perform “The Disco Before the Breakdown,” which I have never heard live before. So, that was kind of cool. The instrumental sections sounded a little empty without any horns, but who cares? Fast forward to show-ender “We Laugh at Danger (And Break All the Rules).” After a hard-hitting one hour set, the band finished its four song encore strong, delivering one of the best numbers they’ve ever written. There was plenty of grinning and clapping throughout, and the audience finally went off for a little bit. At no point during the show did the floor go insane, but “We Laugh at Danger” gave the crowd a nice shot of adrenaline. I mustered up what was left of my voice and screamed every line back to the band, connected with every other person in the venue through music. And then Prince’s “Purple Rain” came on over the loudspeaker.

Tard - 'Dining With the Lepers'

Those who miss Propagandhi's sense of humor displayed on their punk masterpiece How to Clean Everything might get some diminished returns from Tard's new album, Dining With the Lepers. But be warned; Tard is a poor man’s Propagandhi, lacking the political vision and satirical wit of those Canadian dudes. But at least they have the potty humor and NOFX-brand o’ punk rock down.

Dining With the Lepers is more or less bookended with its two best tracks, “Yer Head” and “Double Wide.” “Yer Head” has the early ’90s Fat Wreck sound down perfectly. Snotty vocals, tons of “whoas,” and a grinding guitar/bass combo form some quality pop punk in the tradition of Face to Face and The Descendents. The song takes a weird detour into skit-skat-y territory near the end, giving it an extra dash of infectiousness, if only for 30 more seconds. It’s a great opening track.

Given the bar the band sets for itself with the first track, it’s a wonder “Hey Kid” can keep up. It’s still pretty rollicking, but loaded with typical punk cliches. “Hey kid (whoa!), no one can tell you what to say. Hey kid (whoa!), no one can tell you to look that way,” go some of the song’s opening lines. It’s defiant, but in a cookie cutter way.

The song titles alone reveal the band’s Fat Wreck-Lite sound. Whereas Propagandhi wrote a song called “Stick The Fucking Flag Up Your Goddam Ass, You Sonofabitch,” Tard settles for briefer, but lesser, names. Titles like “Butt Whore” and “Anarchy Yeah!” are shorter and easier to write, but those characteristics can also be attributed to their song quality. “Anarchy Yeah!” boasts some great punk bass work from GW, but don’t quite meet the standards set by “Fat” Mike or Matt Riddle. These songs are good, but not great.

Punk has always been about conciseness, which Dining With the Lepers honors with its 10 songs clocking in at about 26 minutes. That works well; the lesser songs breeze by without being too painful and the good songs zip by so fast you want to press “rewind.” “Boiled Meat” tries to be funny (”My dick’s as soft as boiled meat!”), but its juvenile sentiments barely match “My Vagina,” let alone anything else. But the album does end on a high note, thanks to “Double Wide.”

“Double Wide” turns up the punk fervor a lil bit higher. Guitarist Dray’s shredding and GW vocals combine for the best Chris Hannah impersonation Dining With the Lepers has to offer. Though it’s good, “Double Wide” still serves as a reminder that, ultimately, you could always just pop in a Fat Wreck classic like Less Talk, More Rock or Don’t Turn Away.

Token Entry - 'The Re-Issues'

One of several unsung heroes of the NYC hardcore scene of the ’80s, Token Entry will hopefully get some its due thanks to the I Scream-issued The Re-Issues, a compilation of the group’s final two albums, Jaybird and Weight of the World. Consisting of 22 songs equaling about 55 minutes, The Re-Issues is an enthralling listen from start to finish. If nothing else, it’s great to hear the music that influenced your favorite musicians. After reading the album’s liner notes, with anecdotes provided by Civ of Gorilla Biscuits, Ray Cappo of Youth of Today, Toby Morse of H2O, and Bryan “Papillion” Kienlen of The Bouncing Souls (all important punk/hardcore bands in their own right), it’s obvious that Token Entry has had a more profound influence on hardcore than the average Silverstein fan might deduce.

The first half of this retrospective is Jaybird, a badass hardcore record. While Gorilla Biscuit’s “New Direction” may have surprised first-time listeners with its triumphant horn intro, Token Entry goes for the ridiculous with a twinkling of film score synth for Jaybird opener “The Fire.” But then the band kicks in. Bridging Minor Threat and early Bouncing Souls, “The Fire” is a damn fine old school hardcore song. Blistering and powerful, it sets the pace for what’s to come for the rest of Jaybird. From “Windows” to “Pink Things,” Token Entry lives up to the accolades its fans have heaped on by pummeling the fuck out of listeners’ eardrums with harsh skate-punk anthems (in a totally cool way. Honest). The drums are fierce; the guitars are so rapid fire that they have mere seconds to squeal out anything resembling a solo before soaring back into beautiful beatdown chug-itude.

There’s really only one minor complaint to be had on this first half of The Re-Issues. Like most ’80s hardcore records, Jaybird's lack of variety may cause listeners to zone out after a while. Nonetheless, Jaybird stands up as a staple of hardcore, regardless of scene or era. Closing track “BTBW,” a cover of “Born to Be Wild,” breaks out of the mold a bit with it’s sublimely weird acoustic intro, which is followed by more rocking.

“Sublimely weird” could almost describe Token Entry’s third and final album, Weight of the World, which makes up the second half of The Re-Issues. Almost. Branching out from traditional hardcore in favor of the funk rock of Faith No More and ’80s/early ’90s-era Red Hot Chili Peppers, Weight of the World gets points for experimenting while still leaving some skate-punk layers buried in the mix. But while the album isn’t as lyrically handicapped as the average Anthony Kiedis tune and the musicianship is more diversified and intricate, it’s still a ho-hum release. Weight of the World may be only two years younger than Jaybird, but it sounds far more dated. Hearing frontman Timmy Chunks rap-rock his way through songs like “Don’t Want to Go Back” is just too jarring. Weight of the World is good for a few listens, but it only has value because it was made by Token Entry. Jaybird, however, has value because it’s a great record.

Thursday - 'Kill the House Lights'

A decade after the major label grinder killed guitar-tastic, emotionally charged acts like Jawbreaker, Jawbox and many more, Thursday seemed like the next on the chopping block after announcing its split from Island Records earlier this year. Hell, it’s exactly what happened to Jawbox: Put out two great, indie-backed post-hardcore albums, put out two great, major label-backed post-hardcore albums, break up. Yet, where such bands died sad deaths, Thursday carried on, putting out a stop-gap live/B-side/rarities CD/DVD combo, Kill the House Lights, on former home Victory Records.

Packed with visual goodies, the DVD portion could have been released solo; that it comes with a CD is a zesty bonus. The feature presentation, the Kill the House Lights documentary, starts off as an invigorating look into the band’s rise from basement shows to Warped Tour, from Eyeball to Island.

The band members come off as funny and kind, with just a whiff of intense social awkwardness. Watching the guys talk about “Tone Geoff” Rickley’s beginning as a vocalist, their high school and college years and touring feels more like a conversation than a DVD. These guys could be your friends.

At the same time, though, the film catches the band at a crossroads. While it is generally awesome, one can’t help but feel bummed by the ending. Thursday’s accomplished a lot, but the band is still label-less, steady only in its will to survive.

“We surpassed every dream I had as a kid, and where do you go from there, you know?” is the last line, and it kind of kills off the good times. Please don’t let this be a swan song.

Still, though, it’s a solid documentary, going through each of the band’s albums in decent detail. Also included are a live show and a couple of videos of Thursday’s cute, scamp-y hijinx. Who knew the guys who wrote War All the Time could be funny?

The CD half of Kill the House Lights is solid too. Of utmost excitement to fans will be the new material that begins the disc. “Ladies and Gentleman: My Brother, the Failure” is a curb stomp of an opener, a groovy hardcore number that recalls hints of Refused and Botch, but filtered through the Thursday spectrum. No one sings like Rickley, and that’s a compliment. Dude gets epic here. Same goes for the rest of the band. Drummer Tucker Rule kicks out the jams while the angular fretwork of Tom Keeley, Steve Pedulla and Tim Payne rocks and/or rolls all over. Final kudos go to whoever thought steel drums and synths would sound cool on the bridge, ’cause they do. Give keyboardist Andrew Everding a raise, clam flammit.

Thursday amps up the ’core on track two, “Dead Songs.” Maybe it’s unresolved anger at Island, but “Dead Songs” sure does throw down a lot in less than three minutes. The third new cut, “Voices on a String,” is a little more in touch with last year’s very cool A City By the Light Divided. The guitars are a little less crunchy and the synths more prominent.

Thursday amps up the ’core on track two, “Dead Songs.” Maybe it’s unresolved anger at Island, but “Dead Songs” sure does throw down a lot in less than three minutes. The third new cut, “Voices on a String,” is a little more in touch with last year’s very cool A City By the Light Divided. The guitars are a little less crunchy and the synths more prominent.

From there, the CD trots out some hot rarities. “Panic on the Streets of Health Care City,” a War All the Time B-side, shares two parts with “The Other Side of the Crash,” but they’re really cool parts so the repetition doesn’t matter. Also included are instrumental snippets “A Sketch for Time’s Arrow,” “The Roar of Far Off Black Jets” and “Music from ‘Kill the House Lights.’”

The CD rounds itself out with some live cuts and demos of popular tunes like “How Long is the Night?” and “Paris in Flames.” The demos are cool in a music historian way, especially the rougher mix of “Telegraph Avenue Kiss.” They offer a view of how the band writes.

But the live cuts are ho-hum. They’re expertly performed and recorded, but like any live performance, you had to be there. The live material feels like filler, especially when there are other Thursday cuts that could’ve made it onto Kill the House Lights. “Jet Black New Year,” from the Five Stories Falling live EP, or “Mass as Shadows,” from In Honor: A Compilation to Beat Cancer, while already commercially available, would have been welcome additions.

Regardless of these nitpickings, though, Kill the House Lights will satisfy many a Thursday fan. Chock full of sound and vision, It’s both an excellent place holder while Thursday plans its next audio assault and a fine odds-n-ends collection.

Regarding Tower Records

[Not a music review, but something I'm proud of. Here's my obituary of sorts for Tower Records, which ran in the October 11, 2006 issue of Collegian.]

It isn’t exactly the day the music died, but news of Tower Records’ impending liquidation is still disheartening. After filing for Chapter 11 bankruptcy Aug. 20, the record chain has finally been sold to the Great American Group as of Oct. 6. In order to counter Tower’s $200 million plus debt, GAG has decided to liquidate the company and close all store locations by the end of the year. This comes not long after the March 2006 demise of fellow music retailer, Sam Goody.

Stores like Tower Records and Sam Goody, once dominant chains, are at a strong disadvantage with larger music retailers like Best Buy and Wal-Mart. Too big to rely on just niche markets like indie record stores can, Tower Records also can’t compete with the big yellow ticket’s intense price slashing business model for popular releases. Customers expect discounts for new releases, and where a CD from Tower could be marked down as low as $12.99, Best Buy can still shine through with a $6.99 price tag.

One thing Tower did have over Best Buy, however, was a dedication to independent music and publications. More than Sam Goody or FYE, Tower made an effort to put punk zines next to Rolling Stone and U.K. Cardigans imports right next to Mariah Carey. News of Tower’s closing, along with a recent CNN.com report claiming that there are 800 fewer independent music stores now than in 2003, certainly casts a sense of doom to underground music lovers.

Granted, Best Buy’s prices are far better (seriously, $6.99?! What’s not to like?), but, as the capitalistic playing field becomes less crowded, the amount of power Best Buy gains becomes scarier and scarier. According to PBS.org, music sales from Best Buy, Target and Wal-Mart add up to about 50 percent of CD sales, while CD sales at Best Buy are only three to five percent of the company’s total revenue. Basically, record labels need Best Buy, but Best Buy doesn’t need record labels.

Though Best Buy’s music selection is far more extensive than those offered by Target or Wal-Mart, it’s still limited in terms of underground music. Indie stores are plentiful in certain cities like Philadelphia and New York City, but for kids surrounded by the Hanna-Barbera-like repetition of suburban landscapes like Lansdale, Pa., there aren’t many choices. When the closest you can come to being alternative is choke down a Panic! at the Disco disc, you know mediocrity has taken over. Breaking free from mainstream, disposable pop never seemed like such a chore.

Of course, you could just getfile everything you want.