[Vinyl Vednesday is a weekly feature about three favorite vinyl finds. It’s not meant to be a dick-measuring contest, but it usually turns out that way. Anyway, as always, e-mail pelonej1@gmail.com with your own big finds!] Records: The Flatliners’ Cynics seven-inch (2009) on black, Missing Persons’ “Words” single (1982) on black, and Restorations’ Restorations seven-inch (2010) on black.
Thoughts: For those of you just tuning in, I’ve recently begun an open relationship with The Flatliners. It started off simply with last year’s Cavalcade, but it’s grown considerably since then. After picking up The Great Awake, I opted to go all in and snatch up the band’s seven-inches. Turns out those deliver toe-tapping, throat-shredding punk rock too. My only complaint with them is their brevity, but whatevers. Cynics is a solid stopgap EP between Awake and Cavalcade, and while none of the three tunes surpasses material from those full-lengths, it’s still Flatliners clam flammit. Get into it.
Outside of the themed installments, I grab my three records for Vinyl Vednesday at random. So, it’s funny to me that I’ve begun this sudden trend of “punk rock + ’80s hits.” Oh well. While they weren’t around for very long, Missing Persons got in a catchy hit in the ’80s with the chirpy, synth-driven “Words.” What are they for, when no one listens anymore? ANSWER ME. The B-side is a new wavey take on “Hello, I Love You” by The Doors that isn’t nearly as different as it initially seems.
You guys know Restorations put out a full-length this year, right? Because that shit is super limited yet still readily available. When I heard the band’s Strange Behavior EP earlier this year, I didn’t realize just how much they had in common with bands like the singing, biking, fucking Latterman. That EP had a spacey CSTVT quality to it. The new album, and this self-titled seven-inch, are clearly punk rockin’. So stoked.
Here’s some trivia for you: This is the shortest Vinyl Vednesday I have ever posted. I’m going to bed.
While I should be grateful for another round of Ramones-indebted pop-punk from Teenage Bottlerocket via new seven-inch Mutilate Me, there’s a part of me that wishes the band had held out for another full-length. Instead, fans get one amazing song (the title track), one OK song (“Punk House of Horror”), and a pretty forgettable cover (Bad Religion’s “Henchman”).
But hey, “Mutilate Me” is really, really catchy. TBR’s talent lies in taking simple song structures and wringing massive melodies out of them. “Mutilate Me” is yet another infectious number from a group that’s been cranking them out nonstop since 2001. It’s kitschy like a Go-Go’s tune too.
“Punk House of Horror” is a solid if unremarkable tune. Compared to previous stabs at spooky songwriting like “They Came From the Shadows” and “In the Basement,” it seems like a lesser effort. Same goes for the Bad Religion cover; it’s over before you can react.
Still, Mutilate Me’s title track is strong enough to justify the seven-inch’s existence. If it ever shows up on a future LP, though, I might need to sell this vinyl off.
With another year comes another Rancid side project. This time out, Rancid guitarist/vocalist Lars Frederiksen has an Oi-punk outfit, the somewhat humorously dubbed Old Firm Casuals, and their new self-titled seven-inch is a rocker. Boasting four songs, Old Firm Casuals is frills-free punk rock from a modern legend.
I think that in order to be a diehard Rancid fan, you need at least a little sense of humor, which is why I’m all about the lo-fi, grainy trappings of opener “Old Firm (D.M.S.),” even though the chorus goes “We are the Old Firms!” My degree is in English; I can find the sexual in anything. It’s still a catchy number, though. “Lone Wolf,” meanwhile, goes by in a punk rock flash.
The flipside (dubbed “Boat Side”), owes a debt to early Clash, especially “London’s Burning” and “Clash City Rockers.” But hey, that riff is undeniable, the bassline is buoyant, and the gang vox are solid. “Casual” closes out the seven-inch with another round of sloganeering dedicated to the band itself. In that sense, Frederiksen has swapped out Rancid’s constant references to East Bay for simply mentioning his band’s name.
So on a certain level, The Old Firm Casuals are a little silly. But they also play old school punk rock, and they do it well too. I’m a Rancid fanboy, so this certainly gets a passing grade from me, but the songs’ primal energy should hopefully appeal to new listeners as well. The group plays punk in its most basic form; if you don’t like this, you’re not a fan.
Let’s start with the point of consensus: Altar of Plagues is a metal band from Ireland. The group is probably a black metal band, except they incorporate elements of sludge metal, drone, atmospheric metal a la Jesu, grindcore and even traditional Irish music. And I don’t mean traditional like the Pogues; track three of their stellar new record Mammal, “When the Sun Drowns in the Ocean,” features keening, an ancient vocal lament performed by one or several woman as part of a funeral service. It was abolished by the Roman Catholic Church, so including it here is secretly metal.
Also it sounds creepy/cool.
At just over eight minutes in length, “Sun” also manages to be perhaps Mammal’s most accessible track, by which I mean it’s the shortest. Bookended by the keening, the tune is nothing if not haunting. At the four-minute mark, it morphs into a heavy metal thumper. The guitars are certainly dissonant, but there’s still an underlying ambience to the whole thing that complements the keening’s surreal qualities.
The song that really defines Mammal, however, is “Neptune is Dead.” It’s the opener, and it’s nearly 19 minutes long. Skip that track, and you lose almost half of the album right there. Mammal’s songs take a while to get going, and “Neptune” is no exception. A mechanical hum gently fades into guitar squalls over the course of a minute. Drummer Johnny King starts to poke through with some flourishes, and by the two-minute mark, “Neptune” launches into a thrashing noise that rivals anything Napalm Death ever accomplished. It’s loud.
Nineteen minutes is a long time to devote to just one song, but Altar of Plagues isn’t a stoner rock band; the tune packs enough movements to keep things interesting. Besides, the track listing is almost superfluous. Outside of “Sun,” differentiating between tracks is pointless when there’s shredding to be had. This need to constantly move, to jump from one subgenre to the next, keeps Mammal alive. It’s a record that encompasses elements from several styles and creates something new. One general criticism against metal is that it gets homogenous somewhere between the solos, screaming and chugging. That could never be said of Mammal. Whether they’re rocking a blast beat or showcasing ancient Irish musical styles from a thousand years ago, Altar of Plagues has crafted one of 2011’s most unique metal albums.
[Vinyl Vednesday is a weekly feature about three favorite vinyl finds. It’s not meant to be a dick-measuring contest, but it usually turns out that way. Anyway, as always, e-mail pelonej1@gmail.com with your own big finds!]
Records: The Beatles’ Rubber Soul (1965) on black, RVIVR’s RVIVR LP (2010) on black with an inside-out Modest Mouse jacket, and Kim Wilde’s “Kids in America” single (1981) on black.
Place of Purchase: Beatles ‘n’ Kim Wilde came from Siren Records in Doylestown. RVIVR was ordered via Interpunk.com.
Thoughts: I almost feel bad for the folks at Siren Records when I walk in, because thanks to the massive music shedding I’m doing for myPod, I almost always purchase stuff via trading instead of using actual, legal tender. On my most recent trip, I scored $130 in store credit. I put part of it towards The Beatles’ Rubber Soul, because why not? It’s one of my favorite Beatles albums. The melodies are huge, the band started reacting to Bob Dylan by going acoustic, and its got some of my favorite tunes, like “Girl,” “Michelle,” and “Norwegian Wood.” I made a slight tactical error in buying a U.S. printing, though. The Beatles’ records got chopped and screwed for a long time, and this version of Rubber Soul shuffles the track listing and cuts “Drive My Car!” Blasphemy! It’s still a great record, though, and this version was much cheaper than the sealed mono British pressing Siren had listed for $300. I’m not ready for that sort of commitment.
After Shorebirds imploded, I was a little slow getting into the next round of post-Latterman bands like Iron Chic and RVIVR. I just... didn't want to get hurt again. Also, I was lazy and there was a lot of good music coming out in the heady days of the year 2010. After it showed up on a bevy of year-end lists, though, I decided to dive back into the punk rock band dating pool. RVIVR is noticeably slower compared to Shorebirds or Latterman, but the band basically traded speed for melody, and I can live with that. I dig the male/female vocal interplay, especially on “Real Mean.” That tune’s also got a mean guitar lead. I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's OK to love again. I never got to see Latterman or Shorebirds live; I need to turn that around with RVIVR (or Iron Chic).
Two-thirds of the pop singles released in the ’80s were absolute shit. The other one-third was amazing. My fiancée mocks me on occasion for picking up ’80s singles, but I really, really like Kim Wilde’s “Kids in America.” It’s a catchy new wave ditty beloved by everyone who ever existed in this universe. The Bouncing Souls covered it!
As for the B-side, “You’ll Never Be So Wrong,” it’s OK I guess. I don’t remember how it goes.
[myPod is an attempt to edit down my CD collection as I import my music on to my brand new 160 GB iPod.]
Desaparecidos
Conor Oberst put out two albums in 2002: Lifted, or the Story is in the Soil, Listen to the Ground under the moniker Bright Eyes, and Read Music/Speak Spanish by Desaparecidos. The ’cidos were a punk band who hated the shit out of America, gloriously so. Read Music remains their only release, but it’s a good one: Ten tracks of bile and white guilt. Along with Digital Ash in a Digital Urn and The People’s Key, Read Music creates a sort of unofficial electronic trilogy for Oberst.
Verdict: Keep.
Descendents
Surf-punk hardcore that’s profoundly important to pop-punk, along with The Ramones, Green Day, and maybe Screeching Weasel. I’m not that hugest Descendents fan – their ’80s “classic period” is homophobic – but I do enjoy Milo Goes to College and Everything Sucks. It’s danceable and angry, so you know I’m down.
Verdict: Keep.
Devils Brigade
Oh man. Devils Brigade began as a psychobilly side project for Rancid’s Matt Freeman. They released a couple of seven-inches in the early aughts and then sort of faded away. Then in 2010, for whatever reason, Freeman and fellow Rancid/Operation Ivy member Tim Armstrong decided to bring DB back, with X drummer DJ Bonebrake on the kit [Side note: Bonebrake and Freeman also played together in Auntie Christ]. The self-titled debut was more of a rockabilly record, partially because it collected songs from a failed musical about prospectors or some shit. Devils Brigade is cheesy as heck in spots, but it’s Freeman. I love that dude even if he does sing like Cookie Monster.
Verdict: Keep.
Devo
A little bit of Devo goes a long way for me. I’ve got Q: Are We Not Men and Freedom of Choice, the band’s first and third albums, and I honestly think that’s enough for me. I’ve got all of my favorite spastic, sarcastic post-punk tunes (“Girl U Want,” “Gates of Steel,” “Jocko Homo,” and that space funk take on The Rolling Stones’ “Satisfaction”).
Verdict: Keep.
Neil Diamond
SWEEEEET CARRRROOOOLLIIIINE! BA BA BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
I have a greatest hits package from Neil Diamond, and it’s unabashedly schmaltzy pop music of the catchiest caliber. Like Devo, a little bit of Diamond goes a long way, but c’mon. This guy writes big fat show tunes. RESPEK.
Verdict: Keep.
Los Difuntos
I’m such a sucker for anything tangentially related to Rancid that I even got behind Los Difuntos simply because Matt Freeman sang a duet with them on their best song, “Lucy.” That’s not entirely true – the group plays quality psychobilly – but I realized I haven’t really listened to their music much since I reviewed them back in 2009. Sorry dudes.
Verdict: Sell.
The Dillinger Escape Plan
People who prefer Weezer post-Matt Sharp are not true Weezer fans. But I prefer what Dillinger Escape Plan has done post-Calculating Infinity over Infinity. Does that mean I’m not a true DEP fan? In truth, I’ve never heard the record all the way through, even though it’s what established DEP as a premier technical hardcore act – and set them up for fan backlash with each new release. But I have enjoyed the group’s run with newer singer Greg Puciato. Miss Machine and Option Paralysis blend hardcore, metal, alt-rock, and even techno into a fine stew. My favorite record remains my entryway into the band’s discography, 2007’s Ire Works. It’s all over the place stylistically, which is exactly why I gravitate towards it. It’s just a really weird album.
Verdict: Keep.
Dillinger Four
D4 is a cornerstone of what people on the Internets call orgcore, along with Hot Water Music and The Lawrence Arms. I’m not as obsessed with them as other people seem to be, but each of their records is agreeably catchy and moving. Having grown up after D4’s heyday, maybe I’ve been spoiled by their influence – everybody writes gravelly drinking songs these days. Still, I’m all about albums like Versus God and Situatinist Comedy, and the older I get, the better the records sound. This is my kind of punk.
Verdict: Keep.
Dio
When it comes to metal, I prefer raw and sludgy. But when I get the hankering for fantasy power metal, I look no further than Ronnie James Dio. I’ve already written about his greatness with Black Sabbathat length, but Dio’s greatness doesn’t end there. After he parted ways with Sabbath, Dio went on to form… Dio. The group essentially picks up where Mob Rules left off (and even takes on Mob drummer Vinny Appice). The lyrics are pure fantasy cheese, but the hooks and instrumentation are huge. Dio continuously, unapologetically went huge, as songs like “Rainbow in the Dark” and “Holy Diver” prove. Don’t even act like you don’t love the shit out of those songs.
Verdict: Keep.
20 Years of Dischord
For a while in college, I got extreme glee from exploring the wide array of albums released by Dischord, the de facto chronicler of D.C. punk from the ’80s and ’90s. While the label’s output has slowed down in the last decade, I tore through records by Fugazi, Jawbox, and Nation of Ulysses with pleasure. Dischord bands had a few things in common, like grit, dissonance, and mood (Well, aside from Government Issue anyway). 20 Years of Dischord features three discs of music plus a book. The discs are each themed (’80s hardcore, ’90s post-hardcore, and rarities). The ’80s material blurs together after a while, although I do enjoy Teen Idles, Ian MacKaye’s band before Minor Threat. The second disc kills, though. Listening to it reminded me how many more bands I need to check out, like Dag Nasty, Slant 6, and The Make-Up. The rarities disc is a nice addition, and the book is essential listening for punk fans. Dischord has a certain purity to it, as the label has made few artistic concessions, if any. It’s essentially a punk rock Calvin & Hobbes.
Verdict: Keep.
Discount
Unlike peers like Jawbreaker, Sunny Day Real Estate, and The Promise Ring (among others), Discount gets lost in the discussion about ’90s emo. The group’s influence has never been as pronounced by critics, and most of their discography is out of print, aside from Love, Billy, an EP of Billy Bragg covers on Fueled by Ramen. Now, they’re a footnote in the history of Allison Mosshart pre-Kills/Dead Weather. Which is a shame, since Discount was a really, really good pop-punk band with a knack for capturing the beauty and terror behind relationships.
If I had to be overly critical, I would say the band has two essential releases: Ataxia’s Alright Tonight and Half Fiction. Both are thrilling thirty-minute stabs of Florida punk. Swansong Crash Diagnostic is pretty good too, but it sounds like a different band, one shifting towards a Fugazi/Sleater-Kinney/early Pretty Girls Make Graves vibe. The choruses are a little less poppy, although tunes like “Hit” and “Broken to Blue” still showcase the old sound. Love, Billy is good but short. The group signed off with a duo of singles collections that are pretty solid. Ultimately, Discount reminds me that I’ll always be pop-punk at heart.
Verdict: Keep.
The Dismemberment Plan
Generally speaking, I like The Dismemberment Plan. They wrote four records of catchy, spazzy post-punk. They make me want to dance awkwardly. But my enthusiasm took a weird hit when I heard “OK, Jokes Over” on !. It’s a pretty angry song about infidelity that gives me the heebie jeebies. Other than that, yeah, fun times a-hoy.
Verdict: Keep.
Does It Offend You, Yeah?
There are essentially two kinds of reviews I write: One set is about albums I actually care about. The other is about albums that I don’t care about but have to form an opinion on regardless. Does It Offend You, Yeah? falls into the latter category. I reviewed the band’s debut for Define the Meaning, gave it a begrudging endorsement since it accomplished its goal for being frustratingly repetitive, bombastic dance music that ran the gamut of Bloc Party to Mindless Self Indulgence, and then forgot I even owned the record. Years later, this one can go.
Let’s get the complaining out of the way: The sole problem with the new Holy Mess release is that it’s primarily old material, thereby eliminating it from consideration for best album of 2011. Otherwise, The Holy Mess is a solid collection of 11 super catchy punk tunes in the vein of Lifetime, Rehasher and Latterman. Combining the group’s Benefit Sesh and DismountEPs with a couple of new tunes, the record delivers fun times straight to your ear holes.
“I Think Corduroy is Making a Comeback,” originally relegated to digital bonus track status on Benefit Sesh, opens the compilation with a burst of jubilant guitar ‘n’ vox. It’s throaty and catchy and thoroughly rocking, and it sets the record up for a string of fast-paced fist-pumpers. Holy Mess tunes tend to be about some mixture of drinking and failing, with the music drawing inspiration from sources ranging from Strung Out to Billy Joel. The Benefit Sesh material (“Corduroy,” “Goodbye 3713 (Must’ve Been a Good One),” “A Soulful Punk Tune About a Working Class Punk”) outshines Dismount with bigger hooks, but the compilation overall flows nicely.
Without any context, the album sounds like it was written and recorded all at once. There’s an emphasis on tunes that are either ridiculously catchy (Benefit Sesh) or ludicrously fast (Dismount). New songs “World Renowned Bonafide Shit Show!” and “Cigarette Reflections” are a little lighter in aggression compared to the older material, but still sound mighty passionate.
The liner notes add a nice touch, as members Rob Malloy and Steveo Niemoczynski break down the history of each song. The stories are actually interesting and go beyond the “I was drinking and then I wrote this” kind of background info. Whether it involves honoring a beloved dog or making semi-obscure digs at other bands, Mally and Niemoczynski provide some good tales. Now they just need to write that full-length.
Thoughts: For those of you just tuning in, I’ve recently begun an open relationship with The Flatliners. It started off simply with last year’s Cavalcade, but it’s grown considerably since then. After picking up The Great Awake, I opted to go all in and snatch up the band’s seven-inches. Turns out those deliver toe-tapping, throat-shredding punk rock too. My only complaint with them is their brevity, but whatevers. Cynics is a solid stopgap EP between Awake and Cavalcade, and while none of the three tunes surpasses material from those full-lengths, it’s still Flatliners clam flammit. Get into it.
Outside of the themed installments, I grab my three records for Vinyl Vednesday at random. So, it’s funny to me that I’ve begun this sudden trend of “punk rock + ’80s hits.” Oh well. While they weren’t around for very long, Missing Persons got in a catchy hit in the ’80s with the chirpy, synth-driven “Words.” What are they for, when no one listens anymore? ANSWER ME. The B-side is a new wavey take on “Hello, I Love You” by The Doors that isn’t nearly as different as it initially seems.
You guys know Restorations put out a full-length this year, right? Because that shit is super limited yet still readily available. When I heard the band’s Strange Behavior EP earlier this year, I didn’t realize just how much they had in common with bands like the singing, biking, fucking Latterman. That EP had a spacey CSTVT quality to it. The new album, and this self-titled seven-inch, are clearly punk rockin’. So stoked.
