regarding vacations.

Man, being unemployed is hard work. I think I'll maybe hit up the Jersey shore for a wee bit.

STAY TUNED FOR:
-A TORI AMOS CONCERT REVIEW
-OLD ALBUMS REVIEWED FOR PUNKNEWS.ORG
-THE SOLUTION TO THE ANTI-LIFE EQUATION
-PUPPIES!

Anamanaguchi - 'Dawn Metropolis'

[As much as I like this album, typing Anamanaguchi's name is a bitch.]

In a fit of nostalgia, I recently downloaded a ROM of X-Men 2: Clone Wars. Originally for the Sega Genesis, in some ways it was harder than current-gen video games, if only for its lack of continues or ability to score extra lives. But 14 years after its release, I finally brought the Phallanx to their knees, mostly with just Wolverine, although Cyclops and Nightcrawler helped. In addition to reveling in my ability to kick the shit out of Magneto, Apocalypse, and the Brood, I was struck by the soundtrack. In spite of its limited range of notes, the game featured some strong compositions, with the opening title sequence and the driving techno of the Phallanx levels standing out in particular. I re-learned something that my nine-year-old self already knew: video games are awesome. Which is something Anamanaguchi already knew too.

New York’s Anamanaguchi specializes in chiptune, or electronic indie rock that sounds like an 8-bit video game soundtrack. In terms of literal sound, think of any Nintendo game from the late ’80s/early ’90s with a dash of post-rock. But in terms of energy, catchiness, and general fun, these guys fit in with the likes Andrew W.K. and the Aquabats circa Charge!!. On Dawn Metropolis, a seven-song, 26-minute instrumental testament to the power of rock and/or NES, Anamanaguchi shines.

Now, to be fair, the band’s tonal palate is severely limited because of its adherence to old school sounds. Aside from some of the guitar work, this sounds like an old 8-bit cartridge. Which in turn means that for some, Dawn Metropolis might get a little repetitive near the end. But if you listen to the record’s subtleties, a real treasure/princess/good album awaits.

Dawn Metropolis knocks out its two most immediate numbers right away with “Blackout City” and “Jetpack Blues, Sunset Hues.” These cuts are fast-paced, fun, ideal driving music. Just like the video games of the past, these tunes will incite frenetic side-scrolling. The title track repeats the same quick ‘n’ catchy trick, but it works, so there’s no point in complaining.

Ananamanaguchi switches up its style a little on “Danger Mountain,” which opens with what sounds like pixilated explosions and guns. Basically, it sounds like a boss battle. Where the band really extends itself is on the climactic final track, “Mermaid.” This post-rock ditty goes through a wide range of ideas during its eight-minute running time, from its twinkling intro to its ominous verse, the song undulates between demonic prog and danceable techno.

While the band certainly has dork nostalgia appeal, Anamanaguchi should appeal to a wide range of music fans in spite of their admittedly niche approach. There are only so many chords to write with, and that goes double for chiptune, but Dawn Metropolis defies novelty by being a straight-up awesome rock record. How far the band and the style can go is debatable; for now, though, Dawn Metropolis is a strong document, a fine blend of electronic and punk sensibilities.

regarding Chunksaah Records and charity.

Maybe it's just an E.C.F.U. thing, but Chunksaah Records has been one of my favorite indie labels for about eight years now (which is also about how long I've been into punk music). Run by The Bouncing Souls and their friends, the label's put out phenomenal work from The Measure [SA], Static Radio NJ, Sticks and Stones, The Loved Ones, World/Inferno Friendship Society, Strike Anywhere, the Mighty, Mighty Bosstones and, of course, the Souls themselves over the years. While they might not be well-known as Epitaph or Fat Wreck, their impact on my life is nearly incalculable. Simply put, my life would've sucked without Maniacal Laughter or Addicted to Bad Ideas.

Which is why I want to help hype a series of charity auctions the label is/will be running this summer for Rich Cunningham, founder Happy Days Records. Dude worked with Hot Water Music, Ink & Dagger, and more back in the day, but now, thanks to a vicious bout with cancer, his medical bills are stacking up. So, Chunksaah is selling off some super rare records in order to help the guy out. Right now they've got test pressings galore. It's too late to bid on the Loved Ones' debut EP test pressing, but there's still some stuff from Strike Anywhere, W/IFS, and das Souls. More stuff is going to go up in the coming days and weeks.

Basically, it's an excuse to spend a shit-ton of money on kick-ass, rare records by building up good karma.

My Son My Executioner - 'The Burning EP'

[I shouldn't be allowed to review metal. Fuck this shit.]

Kids, here are some hard truths: If you smoke enough pot, regardless of whatever social clique you fit into, you will turn into a hippie. Don’t bother telling your high school sweetheart that you love him/her; (s)he’s going to dump/cuckold you sometime in October, freshman year of college. And if you write joke songs meant to satirize certain genres, make sure your “serious” shit don’t stank.

And heck, ya’ll, I’m not even sure if the hidden track on My Son My Executioner’s The Burning EP is supposed to be funny, at least on purpose. The only reason I think it’s a joke is that instead of having guttural, grizzly, I-gotta-shit-but-can’t can’t vocals, the band switches to Dio-style operatics. Musically, it’s still metal, but the vox push it from stupid and noisy to ridiculously goofy. It only lasts about a minute or so, but it’s still funny, much in the same way as when Propaghandi covered Black Widow’s “Come to the Sabbat” at the end of Supporting Caste, only less so.

But here’s the difference Johnny, you loveable lil scamp, you. Supporting Caste was a solid record with a good joke at the end. The Burning, however, is ho-hum modern metal-by-numbers, and not in a Nerd Rage way. Guitar solos fight with Cookie Monster-vocals for airtime while double-bass-laden beats come and go. None of this is new; five minutes alone will Headbangers Ball will assert that. And the differences between what make My Son My Executioner suck and other metal bands rule are subtle. But rest assured; this is tiresome noise.

Fire on the Plains - 'Burning All Bridges'

Botch-style technical hardcore assault? Check. Funny song titles? Triple-check, thanks to “Mia Wallace Foot Massage,” “Lisa Turtle Bukakee,” and the simply titled “Burt Reynolds.” Movie samples? Let’s just say Marsellus Wallace stops by, and he’s “pretty fucking far from OK.” California four-piece Fire on the Plains’ Burning All Bridges is a perfectly conceived EP, delivering five pummeling assaults (plus a rockin’ bonus track) one after another. Running 17 minutes, it cuts out before the formula gets stale.

“Mia Wallace Foot Massage” kicks off the EP, and from the end of its Pulp Fiction sample to the end of the CD, shit gets kicked around. The M.O. is pretty clear: The guitars go from crushing to squealing while the vocals are consistently screamed. The style isn’t necessarily anything innovative, but it’ll still get metalheads where they need to go.

Not that it matters much when the songs are playing, but the band does show a brief glimmer of depth lyrically. “Navaho Joe’s Last Dance” discusses white oppression of minorities in America, specifically Native Americans circa New World colonialism and Japanese-Americans circa World War II. It’s a random political thought on an EP that otherwise traffics in hardcore clichés. Line after line condemns the listener for being a jerk. “How can you stand to look at yourself, the subtleties you thought that nobody pick up on,” asks “Burt Reynolds,” while “Mia Wallace” is angry about “you dictating what’s best for me.” “Lisa Turtle Bukakke” might get a laugh for its title, but the lyrics take a hateful turn when a love interest torments the protagonist like “a walrus trapped in the clutches of the polar bear.” It’s not exactly hateful towards women, but it does come off a little emotionally stunted, and that’s coming from a guy who spins Nothing Gold Can Stay for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

But the topics are easy to ignore, because, hey, I have no idea what the fuck the band is saying without a cheat sheet. In the moment, Burning All Bridges is a promising thrasher.

The Petafylers - s/t

[Punk bands keep testing my patience. I guess I really am just an emo kid at heart... time to put on Wood/Water to get this bad taste out of my mouth.]

Band names are crucial selling points. I know in certain genres, it’s cool to have a really shitty name (Dananananaykroyd, you make my head my head hurt). But for the most part, it helps to have a name that either A) sounds cool/attention-grabbing (Anal Cunt), B) says something about your sound/aesthetic (Strike Anywhere), or C) both (The Clash!). Depending on your tastes/psychosexual standing, The Petafylers will either come as a relief or a disappointment, given that their name relates to their sound in a roundabout way.

The Detroit band delivers uncompromising, unchanging punk rock on its self-titled six song EP in the vein of early Black Flag. The name is meant to be shocking – and “Petafylers” will net you a few quintuple-takes when you casually mention it at social outings. Same goes for the music – “Murder Junkies” wants nothing more than to “masturbate on your corpse.” “No More” celebrates anarchy. “V.D.” is about uh… yeah. And so on and so forth. The whole thing comes from the “I can say whatever I want and therefore am punk” train of thought. Which is cool, if you don’t care about, or even know, what words mean. Otherwise, it comes off as kind of stupid. If nihilism is your thang, though, you’re better off just jercle cerking to the Circle Jerks or G.G. Allin. Then again, maybe you should just settle down. Frankly, you’re scaring the neighbors.

REGARDING NEW MOUNTAIN GOATS!!

Today John Darnielle of The Mountain Goats announced the Oct. 6 release date (not to mention the very existence of) The Life of the World to Come. It's gonna be Bible-themed, which isn't surprising if you're familiar with John's work. But he's also never gone this full into Biblical territory, as each song is named after a passage. The Goats' Web site has the album's third track, "Genesis 3:23," up for download.

Some theories percolating about the record, based off this taste:
1. It won't be too Jesus-y. You don't have to know that "Genesis 3:23" references the Fall of Man ("The LORD God therefore banished him from the garden of Eden, to till the ground from which he had been taken," quoth the Good Book), but it might help. Being a TMG super-fan and a (supposed former) Irish Catholic survivor/apologist, you know I'm going to do a lot of reading. So, dad, if yer reading my blog today, good news. I've got my St. Joseph medium size edition New American Bible sitting next to me right now.

2. It's going to be mellower than Heretic Pride. Not Get Lonely-somber, but this song is definitely not a rocker. John describes the album as "twelve hard lessons the Bible taught me, kind of."

3. I'm gonna be honest... this song is good, but I'm not so sure it's enough to launch the record ahead of The Horrors or Morrissey. But who am I kidding... ya'll know I'm gonna spin this baby right round.