Originally intended to be a Record Store Day release, the awesomely and confusionally titled Racial Golf Course No Bitches is the first full length from UK noise rock weirdos Dethscalator, fulfilling the promise of their kick ass split with fellow heavies Hey Colossus from back in 2009, somehow managing to trump their jams from that split, pushing the sound even further, getting heavier, filthier, noisier, and weirdly more melodic, and even dubbier too.
On the surface, these guys are total old school AmRep knuckle dragging numbskulls, sounding like a revved up Brainbombs or (slightly) less drug addled Rusted Shut, but dig deeper to discover all sorts of twisted shit going on. The above mentioned dubbiness is all over the place, drums, vocals, guitars, doused in echo and reverb and sent spinning into clouds of distorted noise, it's subtle in places, but not even remotely in others, the sound, like on the split, feeling almost looped in places, the band locked into churning cyclical riffage, that just grinds endlessly, while all around it, drums pound, FX swirl, vocals howl.
Check out opener "Black Percy" which pairs a Motorhead riff with some Butthole Surfers style tribal drumming, before exploding into a full on metal punk blowout, with wild unhinged David Yow (Jesus Lizard / Scratch Acid) style vocals, but then out of nowhere in swoops a crazy metallic melody that's so catchy, it almost sounds like another song. But it works somehow, and ends up being probably the catchiest jam here, which, as surprising as it might sound, is saying something, cuz there's a lot of unlikely catchiness tucked amidst all this skull caving, rib cage rattling noise. Tracks like "Grotto Crank" take a riff and work it to death, stretching it way out, while yowled vox disappear in clouds of dubbed out FX and are transformed into another layer of buzz, the song lurching and lumbering, almost like some sort of brain damaged slo-mo prog, before finally launching into some serious metallic pummel, only to almost immediately splinter, and collapse into some feedback drenched dirgery, again, everything dubbed out like crazy, turning an otherwise noisy plod into a freaky psychedelic damaged dirge. Fuck yeah. Another favorite is the awesomely titled "World War Two Hitler Youth Dagger", which adds some serious math to the mix, a roiling sprawl of tangled riffage and caveman drum pound, but laced with some soaring guitar shreddery, some droned out psychedelia, and again, some seriously damaged dubbiness as well.
We could go track by track, but by now, having read the above, and presumably listened to some of the sounds below, you know if this is your cup of PCP laced sonic tea or not. It most definitely is ours. Easily the best noise rock record of the year, and most certainly vying for a year end top ten spot, noise rock or otherwise.
Needless to say, fans of Brainbombs, Drunkdriver, Rusted Shut, Violent Students, Billy Bao, Twin Stumps, No Balls, Mayyors, White Mice, Liquorball, Hey Colossus, Homostupids, Shit And Shine, and other sonic shit stirrers, you can add Dethscalator to your arsenal of room clearing, ear drum destroying, speaker shredding crush.
LIMITED TO 400 COPIES!!! Pressed on 140 gram pink bubblegum vinyl.
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For some strange reason, this has been sitting on the shelf, generally unacknowledged, for ages. Which makes no sense at all, the Dicks from Austin, TX are one of the most legendary and outrageous American punk bands from the early '80s. Their songs have been covered by the likes of Mudhoney and fellow Texas nutjobs Scratch Acid. Crossdressing lead singer Gary Floyd, along with Randy "Biscuit" Turner of the Big Boys and Dave Dictor of MDC, represented one of the most unusual and politically radical punk scenes in the country - hell, WORLD. All three singers were hulking madmen, all completely gay and proud, and completely capable of beating the living shit out of anyone who might cross their paths.
Hungry Butt contains two Dicks shows, one from 2005 and the main attraction, a show from 1980. The reunited Dicks, however, still sound unbelievable and as good as they did in their initial run. In both settings the energy level is beyond comprehension as Floyd spits out hateful but hilarious musings in front of the enamored audience. The band appears to be straddling that fine line between keeping it together and plunging into pure chaos, and GODDAMN does it sound good, not to mention surprisingly musical. The album also contains two outtakes from the band's mythical Hate The Police single, "Pigs Run Wild" and "Hate The Police" (one of the best songs EVER). You don't even need to know anything about the Dicks to appreciate the timeless punk rock on display here, and considering the difficulty in finding any of their stuff, we can't recommend this highly enough. We don't have too many copies and are kinda unsure whether we can get more (this was released five years ago...) but we figured it would be criminal not to let people in on this opportunity.
Kill From The Heart is the legendary debut from Texas / SF punks the Dicks, which featured a young Mr. Gary Floyd, who would later go on to form Sister Double Happiness. But back in 1980, in Austin Texas, Floyd was fronting the Dicks, a wild rambunctious band of political punks who terrorized and inspired in equal measure, Floyd was a seriously imposing frontman, the band confrontational and controversial, their first single a tale of a corrupt policeman abusing minorities ("The Dicks Hate The Police"), and songs featuring lyrics about homophobia and sexuality, amongst other charged topics. Their sound raw and feral, but still hooky and heavy, Floyd's voice super distinctive, their influence on other bands was immeasurable, even if some folks don't realize it. Mudhoney's "Hate The Police" is of course a Dicks cover, and Jesus Lizard covered the Dicks' "Wheelchair Epidemic", and the Butthole Surfers even wrote a song about Floyd called, of course "Gary Floyd".
This first incarnation of the band only lasted three years, with Floyd taking off for San Francisco, where he would reform the Dicks with a whole new lineup. Kill From The Heart was originally released in 1983 on SST and has been remastered by Jello Biafra, and for this reissue, the whole of the Dicks Hate The Police single has been tacked on as bonus tracks (they're included in the download with the lp version). We've been listening to this like crazy since it came out, and sort of forgot just how goddamn good this record was, and IS!
These People is record number two legendary debut from Texas / SF punks the Dicks, which featured a young Mr. Gary Floyd (and at this point drummer Lynn Perko), both of whom would later go on to form Sister Double Happiness, but in 1983, the Dicks Mk II had just formed in SF after Floyd's relocation, and the new band reimagined the Dicks sound as something much more melodic and poppy, hinting at what was to come in SDH, and while it was definitely still punk, it was crazy catchy too, Floyd's voice much more controlled, the songs surprisingly polished, a few of the tracks here sounding almost like Sugar at times, hooks galore, but for every blast of pretty poppiness, there's another chunk of swaggery noisy punkiness, often some hybrid of the two, which is what made this record such a killer. And Floyd remained an imposing frontman, the band not shying away at all from the subject matter that made their first record so charged and controversial, in fact, the band found all sort of other injustices to rail against, including murdered Black Panther George Jackson, whose story is told in the album closer "George Jackson". But the sound of the band definitely alienated a segment of the punk rock community, and most likely contributed to the band's eventual breakup, and Floyd and Perko heading for poppy climes, but even now, after all these years, this record sounds better than ever. And the funny thing is back when we first discovered the Dicks, we sort of considered this the wussier record, with Kill From The Heart being THEE Dicks record, but some of these songs are hitting the spot big time, and giving Kill a run for its reissue money!
Originally released in 1985, on Alternative Tentacles, These People has been remastered by Jello Biafra, and for this reissue, the whole of the Peace? 7" single has been tacked on as bonus tracks (on both the vinyl and the cd).
**SALE **SALE* *SALE**
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When you think Bay Area and 'metal', you probably think Metallica, or Exodus, maybe even Testament. But had things gone a little differently, you might be thinking Dig That Body Up, It's Alive. Okay, well, maybe not, but if you were us, and you had been lucky enough to experience the freaked out metallic damage of this SF trio back in the day, this record would be having you losing your mind. And hell, even if you missed out on the DTBUIA years, which most folks probably did, one listen to this record, will immediately transport you to some dark sweaty hole in the wall, right into the middle of a heaving mass of sweaty kids, while right at the center, a guitarist and a drummer duel to the death, while the vocalist grunts and growls, climbing into the rafters, hanging� from pipes, leaping into the crowd, rolling around on the floor. You may not have been there, but it's easy to hear what it must have been like.�
Dig The Body Up, It's Alive featured SF luminary John Dwyer (Coachwhips, OCS, Ohsees, Pink And Brown, Landed) on guitar and Oren Canfield (Child Abuse) on drums and the mighty Nate Denver (Total Shutdown, Nate Denver's Neck) on vocals. Dwyer's guitar is most definitely the focal point, his guitar emitting short bursts of convoluted metallic fury, the riffs squiggly and angular as often as downtuned and chugging, the drums the perfect foil, blasts of double kick, strange mathy grooves, full on blast beats, everything lurching and stumbling, stop start stop and start again, chaotic and furious, like some alien strain of death metal filtered through these three guys' cracked musical filter.�Above it all, Denver growling and grunting, death metal gurgles, telling tales of dragons and monsters and other completely off the wall stuff.�
Side A is a serious of brief metallic bursts, riff after riff, squealing and grinding, thrashing and flailing. Dizzying and confusional, heavy and dense and completely damaged sounding. The flip side however is a whole 'nother thing entirely. A single side long jam. A single riff, repeating and looping, mesmerizing and hypnotic. Like a more aggro and angular Circle. Totally crushing, but strangely trancelike. Near the half way point, everything stops, Denver hisses out some creepy lyrics and the band launch right back into it. A couple more false endings, but each time the band head right back in, picking up right where they left off, pounding that riff into utter oblivion.�
Finally, when the song really does end, the last note rings out, a shimmering ominous metallic drone, over which Denver recites a lengthy and super tweaked chunk of spoken word, more princesses and monsters and the like... So awesome.�
Originally slated to come out on tUMULt before the band died a premature death, this is finally seeing the light of day thanks to the always killer Rock Is Hell label. Vinyl only, limited to 333 copies. The covers are hand screened, inside and out, and there's an insert with Denver's history of the band.
And as if we even needed to say it, WAY RECOMMENDED!
Long overdue collection from these punk rock pioneers. This is a collection spanning 1977-1981 and includes their three singles (that's all they ever released) as well as some demos! I (Sadie) didn't pay too much attention to the Dils in the past. I knew
Another batch of slow burn, churning doom drenched epic metal, steeped in convoluted math rock and blissed out post rock. You know what we're talking about. Disappearer fall WAY on the heavier end of that spectrum, with massive downtuned guitars, pummeling drums, soaring psychedelic leads and guitar harmonies, a gloriously lurching monstrous groove, loping and hypnotic, huge sweeping waves of melancholic post doom rock bliss, cymbals explode and sizzle all over the proceedings like acid rain, the bass grinds and throbs, pushing everything along like some ominous black tide, and the guitars, shit, this is all about the guitars, thick layered walls of drop-d sludge, long lazy drifts of glistening guitar minimalism, stuttery stretches of crumbling chug, swirling tangled tendrils of muted melody, all matched push for shove by the drums, sometimes a crushing caveman pound, sometimes a simple shuffling plod, other times an impossibly convoluted tribal freakout. If you still need some comparisons, Neurosis, Mouth Of The Architect, Tides, Conifer, Isis, that sort of thing, but Disappearer are all instrumental, and thus have a much more abstract and droney brooding vibe, like any one of those bands, jamming afterhours, not really playing songs, or a show, just slowly carving huge swaths of monumental heaviness under the cloak of darkness.
Another reissue of crucial stuff by these grindcore heroes, Hydrahead making it possible now for your entire Discordance Axis cd collection to be all uniformly packaged in DVD-style cases. And they do look spiffy. Inside this one you'll find a big ol' booklet of lyrics and detailed commentary, along with a 31-track cd of killer grind: DA's second album Jouhou from 1997 plus their sides of splits with Melt Banana (for whom DA's drum god Dave Witte later played) and Plutocracy, and a live, improvised track from their final show in Tokyo in '98.
If you already have the Jouhou cd released a few years ago in the regular jewel case, you've got all the same tracks. But the booklet here is expanded and redesigned and of course now it matches the packaging of your The Inalienable Dreamless and Original Sound Version 1992-1995 disc. What? You like grind and you don't have those? Well any or all would be good places to start.
You wanna know what we mean when we talk about "grind"? This band could be the dictionary definition of grindcore. Not 'cause they're the most typical or generic, but rather because they're an exemplary grindcore band in so many respects. They'll certainly give you a good idea of grind: short, sharp, stop start songs with screamy grrrrrrr vocals, angular metallic riffs, and insane drumming (on most of the material here, by the godlike Dave Witte, ex-Human Remains, also of Burnt By The Sun and Melt-Banana). A political lyrical stance is also part of the equation, although these guys are also obsessed with information theory and Japan-fandom (the culture, not the band).
This disc is a "perfect edit" reissued collection of stuff from this NJ "ninja grindcore" unit. Their first album Ulterior, live stuff, unreleased recordings (their first rehearsal!), tracks from split releases and comps and singles...approximately one gazillion tracks total, including sometimes multiple versions of the same song, like any good grindcore discographical release. All packaged in a DVD case, like their masterpiece Inalienable Dreamless, which allows for a big thick booklet of lyrics, art, and commentary. The self-deprecating liner notes are revealing and funny, great reading for fans, for example:
"Our policy has always been if anyone likes any of our slow parts, we make them shorter or cut them entirely" and "The title track and yowza is it lame". The booklet is great, but it's the disc that (at proper volume) will really get your attention. It's a grind cornucopia, lurching from blasting beatdowns to quirky noise to almost-post-rock, even including a cover of Black Flag's "Gimme Gimme Gimme". Essential for anyone who is or wants to be grind-savvy.
Arguably the greatest grind band ever! Meaning you could argue they weren't, but you would be dead wrong and would summarily lose any argument to the contrary. DA combined impossibly complex composition, with furiously blurred execution, all held together by some of the most creative, innovative and cryptic design we've seen in ages, -especially- from a grind or metal band! They added a hyper intellectual slant to an already politically charged scene, forgoing all the gore and guts and stuff in lieu of, well, ART. The breakup of Discordance Axis was a blow to metal and grindcore freaks worldwide and as always with things like that, rumors started circulating about a lost, unreleased DA record. Well, the rumors were partially true. Two songs, recorded but unreleased did in fact exist, and are finally getting released with loads of extra stuff, in that immediately recognizable Hydra Head / Discordance Axis oversized DVD style packaging. So the good news: the two new songs are AMAZING, fucked up and brutal, dizzyingly and impossibly dense and intricate. The bad news: the two new tracks clock in at a total time of 1:42. But thankfully DA manage to pack in about a jillion changes and parts into that minute and a half.
So then there's the extra bonus material on this here DA 'single'. First you've got ten tracks credited to 'Cide Project' which could be a real band but is probably more likely one of the DA guys fucking around on his computer. That said, these tracks are SO AWESOME, fully rendered MIDI versions of all your favorite DA tracks. Fuzzy computer synths and chaotic drum programming turn these grind classics into buzzing, fuzzed out midi blurs. Like a grindcore Anton Maiden! Then there's a bunch of bands covering their favorite DA tracks, Gate, Mortalized, Noiseear, none of whom we've heard of but who all offer up appropriately thrashing grinding tribute. Then there's Melt Banana's cover, which turns the DA original into a minute of bizarre skronky, bleeping blooping grindpop. Also included is the full version of Merzbow's interpretation of DA's The Inalienable Dreamless, an insanely chaotic mix of Japanoise, spacerock skree, and about a million skipping Discordance Axis cds. And finally, to finish things off, the first song from DA vocalist Jon Chang's new outfit Gridlink, a dense shrieking exercise in turbulent, super spastic grind! Now we can all anxiously await the forthcoming War Chalking record, featuring members of Discordance Axis, Human Remains and Burnt By The Sun (counting some folks twice or thrice!). Yowza!
Yeah, I know we listed this last time, but it sort of got short shrift, especially seeing as this record, and this band are the absolute masters of technical grind, and have taken their chosen form and stretched it farther then anyone could have imagined, creating something furious and brutal and violent and frightening, but absolutley stunning at the same time. And stunning in ways other than musical, which is remarkable for a genre that often shuns the avant garde, or doesn't understand it. The cd comes housed in a DVD box, allowing for more artwork, and the gorgeous minimal cover art certainly benefits. The cover and the booklet, continue the DA tradition of hyper minimalism, obfuscated text, and a wicked eye for design. Sleek and smooth, warm, and slightly sinister. And that subtlety bleeds into the sound as well. You would think that a 17 song, 24 minute cd would be short on subtlety and long on bombast, and maybe you'd be half right. DA temper their lightning speed metalcore bombast with, complex song structures, a breathtaking technical prowess, and fleeting moments of dark ambience, classic metal riffing, and face melting noise. This is about as close to perfection, both visually and sonically, as any grindcore/metalcore I have ever heard or seen. Seriously.
The band name starts with the prefix DIS, which is your first hint that you best prepare yourself for some serious D-beat pummel. Featuring at least one member of UK black doom heavies Ghast, Disfortune offer up seven songs in a little over eight minutes, with at least two songs clocking in at less than 20 seconds, this is some seriously brootal, furious frantic grinding metallic crust, weirdly lo-fi too, the guitars buzzy and murky but way down in the mix on most of the tracks, crushing and blown out on the super short ones, the sound driven by the d-beat pound of the drums, and the raspy vokills, and of course there are plenty of samples, the sound metallic and crusty, and much beholden to Discharge (of course), Digust, Disfear, Disrupt, and all the other DIS bands, as well as Anti Cimex and Doom and well you get the drift. A short sharp blast of metallic punk heaviness, for fans of all of the above mentioned bands, as well as more recent d-beat practitioners like Acephalix, Bone Awl, Malveillance, etc...
Er...let's see, the press for this says: "A typically retarded new EP split between two of underground San Francisco's favorite treats". Favorite treats we suppose if you're into the most annoying Load-label stuff too, but we won't argue with retarded. But that doesn't mean we're saying you won't like this -- the market for primitive beats, synth abuse, and noisy silly punk-dance chaos is a burgeoning one after all. And there's some local celebs involved in these two acts as well: DJ Shitbird consists of members of Comets On Fire, the Lowdown, Crack W.A.R., Big Techno Werewolves, and Lil Pocketknife, while Revenge consists of the infamous John Dwyer (Coachwhips, Pink & Brown, Zeigenbock Koph, OCS...) and a dude from the Numbers. It seems that Narnack ain't signing up anything, even for a split, without scenester cred galore. Both bands are equally goofy, with Revenge being noisier and DJ Shitbird cuter (but more cringe-inducing), I suppose. Check out the sound clips to see if they get your booty moving or just make you gag...
Nice new vinyl reissue of this 1978 classic. Those of you familiar with Boston's garage-scuzz legends The Lyres will immediately recognize -that- sound, as DMZ were essentially a Lyres prototype, equal parts blasting garge-y punk rock, fuzzed out organs, crunchy guitar, and Jeff "Monoman" Connolly's howled vocals. Think the Seeds, the MC5, the Kinks and the 13th Floor Elevators, but filtered through a sludgy stew of Stooges, Rocket From The Tombs, Electric Eels and the Ramones. Awesome cover art with the band hugging what appear to be either beer kegs or Daleks (or maybe they're supposed to be in a pinball machine).
Jeff "Monoman" Conolly has gotta be one of rock 'n' roll's awesomest unsung legends. First off, he fronted DMZ, Boston's garage punk answer to the likes of the Stooges and the New York Dolls, in the mid-'70s. Then, out of the ashes of DMZ, he formed Lyres, who traded in some (just some) of DMZ's scuzzed out heaviness for retro Vox organ driven power poppiness in the style of the best '60s Nuggets outfits. This disc brings both bands together. The DMZ half features 12 tracks recorded as demos at a Cambridge radio station in 1976. They rip it up here, doing a ton of rad covers, among 'em "Til The End Of The Day" by the Kinks, "Teenage Head" by the Flamin' Groovies, "Search and Destroy" by the Stooges, "Heart Of Stone" by the Stones, and "Someone's Gonna Get Their Head Kicked In Tonight" by Fleetwood Mac (also memorably covered by the Rezillos). Definitely the sound of a band reveling in their influences, gettin' ready to kick out their own jams, as well as some other covers, on their one and only studio album, which was released in '78 by Sire. (Note: there's no song overlap between this and that.)
Then, on the second half of the disc, there's 15 more tracks from Lyres, recorded live in '82, with a line up featuring 4/5s of DMZ, at an Italian restaurant that doubled as a punk rock venue by night, back in the day. There's lotsa killer covers here as well (The Wailers, The Sonics, The Young Rascals, Kenny and the Kasuals...) and they do a DMZ tune too - but the main attraction might be the raw, raucous versions of Lyres own songs, Conolly compositions that shoulda been big hits, like early single sides "Help You Ann" (Andee's favorite Lyres song EVER) and "I Really Want You Right Now". Considering that reissues of Lyres studio albums are not easy to come by these days (why oh why are they out of print?), the release of this live recording, which makes up for in sheer energy what it might lack in high fidelity, is quite a boon both to fans and folks who, upon hearing it, will immediately become fans!
Basically a double dose of straight up rock 'n' roll radness. Also available as two separate vinyl lps, DMZ on one, Lyres on the other.
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Can you improve on The Stooges' "No Fun"? No, but the combination of a really weird French guy, a primitive drum machine and incredibly distorted electric guitar is a good try! Eric Debris, leader of the seminal French synth-punk act Metal Urbain (and, subsequently, Metal Boys) also had a recording project in the late '70s/early '80s under the Doctor Mix And The Remix moniker. It was his solo project for (the most part) doing stripped-down, fucked-up cover versions of classics like "No Fun" and the Troggs' "I Can't Control Myself". The first Doctor Mix singles featured "versions" on the flip (included here) that are even more messed up. Those are all here along with the entire 1979 Wall Of Noise album, wherein songs by Bowie, The Seeds, the Velvet Underground (an amazing take on "Sister Ray"), Roxy Music and others are all operated on by Doctor Mix, who gives the original artists reason to sue for malpractice! A further Doctor Mix ep is included as well, with a few originals and, among other things, the perenial cover tune "Hey Joe". With Debris singing in Anglais with a snotty French accent, it's all kinda goofy but full of Gallic-punk charm. And if you didn't already check 'em out, we still have Acute's recent reissues of the Metal Urbain and Metal Boys albums in stock, both come highly recommended.
Don't get too excited all you doom metallers out there. You know who we're talking about, those of you who salivate at the mere mention of the word doom. This is not doom in that sense, no slow motion stoner riffing, no wailing seventies vocals, no Sabbath worship here. This is the grind band that started it all. Twenty plus years ago! DOOM! Doom in the sense of how fucked the world is and how the pigs have it in for us and there's no future and we don't want to grow up and our parents generation have fucked everything up and fuck war and fuck you, that sort of doom. Buzzing, blasting grind reminisicent of early Earache records like Napalm Death's Scum, or Carcass's Symphonies Of Sickness, but sonically much closer to Discharge and Broken Bones and G.B.H. and Flux Of Pink Indians and the like. Two of Doom's early eighties lps on one cd! 37 tracks, averaging about 90 seconds each, of thrashing metallic punk rock chaos with ultra pissed lyrics and grunted/shouted vocals over a prickly bed of razor sharp riffing and pounding blast beats. So fucking good!
Holy shit, were these guys seemingly made just for aQ. They're called Doomhawk for one, but more importantly, they play self described "Fantasy Calliope Metal with a heavy love for late night techno radio", and what it really sounds like is epic lo-fi power metal, meshed with a sort of Morricone-ish twang, like a more cinematic Slough Feg, mixed with some Finntroll, but way more DIY and punk, recorded on a 4-track, with wild prog keyboards all over the place. Oh and did we mention flute? How about tuba? Yep, these ladies and gents are like psychedelic space metal troubadours, their songs have a distinctly gypsy / folk vibe, but all tangled up with "Final Countdown" synthesizers and ridiculous fantasy lyrics. Wild chaotic drumming, soaring majestic arrangements, growled, howled, shrieked vocals, acoustic guitars, long stretched out ambient drones, super convoluted rock opera like arrangements...
Not to mention, the members are named Castropho, Sleet, Aumbleplex and Space-Time, and the drummer plays flute!!! Not sure it Doomhawk are still a band, if so, it seems like they'd probably be fucking awesome live, but for the time being, let these lengthy epic prog metal folk drone gypsy jams transport you to whatever bizarre otherworld these weirdos call home.
Even cooler is that every record is hand painted, the clawed Doomhawk logo, spray painted on thrift store records, with not only the Doomhawk record inside, but also the original lp that goes with the old sleeve (the one we grabbed is Chubby Plays Polkas!), includes a printed insert with liner notes, and most importantly lyrics!!! Totally recommended!
With a name like Dope Body, at first we kinda expected this Baltimore band to be some kind of sludge metal thing. But as we learned a while back from their split lp with NYC's Orphan, they're something else entirely. A very hard to define, WTF?, but totally enjoyable, something else indeed, that reminds us of everything from the mathy spazzcore of Lightning Bolt and USAisamonster to the DIY electronic ethno grooves of freakin' Konono No.1, wow. While some of this, their debut studio full-length, is stoner rock heavy (and one song is called "The Shape Of Grunge To Come"), it's more of a crazy melange of all sorts of wild, loud, uber-distorted, rhythmic good times! Quite catchy too.
One thing that we can't help but notice is that part of the Dope Body equation, beneath the noise-rock chaos, is a good dose of punk-funk. We get a whiff, in a good way, of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, somehow (the rubbery bassline of "Bangers & Yos", c'mon). And heck, the band in fact claim Rage Against The Machine as an influence... but we think that Dope Body themselves would appeal more to fans of Cave, Melt Banana, Health, old Boredoms, Geronimo, Shit & Shine, and Rusted Shut. Not that any of those bands sound like Dope Body either exactly, but they might if they all jammed together. Though, that would be a mess, while Nupping isn't actually as messy as it might initially sound, 'cause what Dope Body manage to do is turn all their crunching looping riffs, damaged breakbeats, skronky guitar noise, R-rollin' vocal holler, and weird dude energy, into songs - songs you could dance to! Songs you WILL dance to, furniture and small breakable objects be damned.
Bringing a sweaty warehouse party to your stereo, Dope Body deliver. We loved 'em on that split, and this full-length does not disappoint. Crank it!!
FYI, we were shorted on our order of cds, so we're listing just the vinyl now, the cd hopefully next time, though we might have a couple cds in stock now.
We raved about Floor's Dove album last list, so it only makes sense that we would move on to the new album from Dove, the band that followed Floor and just happens to also feature a fellow from another AQ favorite, Cavity! Equal parts the Melvins, High On Fire and Sleep, which means huge, thundering riffs, planet splitting percussion, and black hole bass, but with the unlikely addition of sweet acoustic parts, weird almost-folky clean guitar and occasional minor key post rock breakdowns. This is much more 'punk' than the Floor record. Where Floor was channelling the Beatles via Nirvana via Eyehategod, Dove takes that end result, roughs it up a bit, rolls it in broken glass and barbed wire and sends it careening down a punk rock mountain with no brakes. Occasionally Dove slow down into Floor / Cavity dirge territory, but more often than not, things quickly pick up or take some weird unpredictable turn before resuming their thrashingly hooky onsalught. Awesome.
The best of '80s Oxnard metalli-punks Dr. Know collected on one handy disc. Maybe you've heard Slayer's version of "Mr. Freeze"?
This is the first we've heard from these Irish heavies, who specialize in a face melting brand of pulverizing metallic crust, liberally dosed with heaping of good old noise rock, and Southern style sludge. The label cites Eyehategod and His Hero Is Gone, which is definitely pretty spot on, but there's plenty more happening here, for us the noise rock thing seems to dominate, a sort of Black Flag meets Unsane or something, but then just as soon as we're feeling that, the sound switches gears, and the band is pounding out a punkish blast, but then it's right back into the warped stuttery noise rock, which is maybe why we dig this stuff so much. They sort of take all our favorite things and jam them together. That same song we were just describing, well, there's some seriously sludge-y Eyehategodisms going on there too. But somehow, all of those disparate parts fit together pretty perfectly.
The guitars are crunchy, distorted, super noisy, droned out too, with riffs blurred and smeared and stretched way out into super tense high end sprawls, which only makes it that much more dramatic when the song collapses back into some roiling noisy convoluted churn.
There's plenty of melody going on too, but these guys definitely don't flaunt it, instead just occasionally slipping into a little drift before the next avalanche of downtuned crush or explosion of frenzied pound. But for all of their influences, these guys definitely have their own thing, they're masters of dynamics, and tension and release, with weirdly structured arrangements, and ever shifting tempos and parts, mixing in long stretches of processed noise, weirdly distorted FX, letting chords ring out and crumble, turning sludgey doom into something weirdly groovy, and taking punked out metal and making it almost proggy, a sort of super heavy math metal sludge, that as if you couldn't tell by now, RULES.
And So Our Troubles Began is actually a compilation, gathering up two out of print vinyl eps, but somehow it plays pretty well as a single album proper, although we're primed now to hear what they come up with for a proper full length.
LIMITED TO 1000 COPIES, each one machine numbered.
This is the raging politi-punk / hardcore debut from Indianapolis' The Dream Is Dead. With their hoarse, full-tilt vocals and thick aggressive guitars, TDID are very much akin to bands like Born Against or Poison Idea. In fact, the ep's finale is a rad cover of P.I.'s "Just To Get Away". Features cover art by Shepard Fairey.
This came out a while ago, and for some reason we never reviewed it, but we were listening to it recently, and realized how fucking kick ass these guys were, and figured there were probably some other folks out there who would dig this as well.
SF heavies kicking out some serious skull crushing jams, falling somewhere between the punkish metal bombast of Northwestern groups like Karp and the Melvins, godheadSilo, and any of the heavier hitters from the classic Amphetamine Reptile stable, so you know what that means, relentlessly rocking churning chugging noise rock / punk metal blowouts, huge downtuned riffage, bad ass drumming, howled vox, the band locking into full on burly grooves, about as fierce and furious as it gets, not sure why these guys didn't blow up, never saw them live, but it sounds like they must have slayed, this stuff is dense and dark, loud and intense, frenzied but also right as fuck, with plenty of melodies, and lots of hooks hidden amidst the pound and pummel, fans of any of the above mentioned bands should grab these while they last, got a handful left, and as the band is dead and gone, we might not be able to get more.
Sometimes it's hard to believe that certain records just go out of print. I mean who would let the Conet Project go out of print, or Souled American, or the Incredible String Band. It's even weirder when the record is not old or obscure. Then it's usually some bureaucratic red tape or major label bullshit that keeps people from hearing some great record. Such is the case with the second, ultimate release from San Diego's Drive Like Jehu, originally released on Interscope in 1994. A record Allan and Andee and Jim and Sadie and Windy and quite possibly the rest of the AQ staff would rank as one of the best rock records ever! Easily as good/important as Slint's Spiderland. For those who don't know, Drive Like Jehu was fronted by John Reis of Rocket From The Crypt (who has now reissued Yank Crime on his own Swami label) and featured vocalist Rick Farr (his rock name, he's also known as Eric Froberg) who later went on with Reis to play in the Hot Snakes. Drive Like Jehu also just happened to have one of the tightest rhythm sections EVER. E V E R! Yank Crime is a tightly wound record of 'post rock' (before post rock meant watered down instrumental indie rock bullshit) with head nodding, repetitive grooves, propulsive, ultra concise drumming, and some of the most inventive guitar playing we've ever heard. All topped off with Farr's distinctive high pitched vocals (familiar to all you folks who dig the Hot Snakes) The songs are looooong and hypnotic but never boring. The band locks into totally intense, static grooves, that can go on for minutes before exploding into mayhemic bursts of controlled fury. So goddamn good. Anyone who likes the Hot Snakes MUST own this record. Drive Like Jehu is like a hyper charged, heavier, more intense and complex, MUCH BETTER Hot Snakes. Anyone who likes Feuhler or Don Cab or Slint or Engine Kid or almost any post rock will discover what all those other comers had been shooting for. This is IT. Trust us. An automatic AQ "record of the week" selection as soon as we heard it was finally being re-released -- with three bonus tracks to boot! ("Bullet Train To Vegas" and "Hand Over Fist" from their Merge label 7", and the original version of "Sinews" from a Cargo/Headhunter compilation.) So even if you have the original you might want to get this reissue for those.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
If an argument had to be made for greatest modern American hardcore/grindcore band, it would be pretty tough to argue with Rhode Island's Dropdead. One of the heaviest, fastest, hardest, most pissed off and politically righteous punk rock bands EVER, devastating obliticore/blistercore/fastcore/powerviolence that KILLS, total thrashing metallic punk rock fury, beholden to classic Swedish hardcore, and old school UK D-beat, British anarcho punk and of course Japanese crust, yet somehow these guys took all those influences and wove them into something singularly epic and transcendent and about a million times better than pretty much every other punk rock band we can think of. Short, sharp blasts of blasting thrashing chaotic punk rock, the guitars grinding and chugging, the drums a furious flurry of lightning fast beats, the vox howled over the churning punk fury below, the lyrics covering everything from animal rights to pacifism, racism to religion, each record an epic onslaught micro grindpunk epics, most clocking it at less than a minute, many half that, but these guys cram as much musical and lyrical vitriol in a matter of seconds than most bands manage over the course of a whole record. Even after years of listening to metal and punk and pretty much every variation and permutation of both, black metal, doom metal, grindcore, crustcore, whatever, there's still something so pure and honest and intense about Dropdead, raw and primal and at the same time impossibly epic and emotional and personal, the sort of punk rock that was as concerned with changing minds and fighting against injustices as it was with getting the pit moving, and in the process, they somehow managed to make these 30 second blasts of sonic ultraviolence, catchy as fuck.
Any one into any sort of heavy music, who doesn't own these classic albums, is missing out big time. All three records have been reissued on vinyl for the first time in ages, their 1993 self titled debut, their 1998 second album (also confusingly self titled) and their insane and untouchable discography collection, which gathers up singles and comp tracks, as well as Dropdead stuff from splits with Rupture and Crossed Out. Hard to recommend one over any of the others, all three rule and are absolutely essential, if you can buy all three, you won't be sorry, but at least buy one, start with any of them, odds are you'll want the rest. One of our favorite bands EVER.
If an argument had to be made for greatest modern American hardcore/grindcore band, it would be pretty tough to argue with Rhode Island's Dropdead. One of the heaviest, fastest, hardest, most pissed off and politically righteous punk rock bands EVER, devastating obliticore/blistercore/fastcore/powerviolence that KILLS, total thrashing metallic punk rock fury, beholden to classic Swedish hardcore, and old school UK D-beat, British anarcho punk and of course Japanese crust, yet somehow these guys took all those influences and wove them into something singularly epic and transcendent and about a million times better than pretty much every other punk rock band we can think of. Short, sharp blasts of blasting thrashing chaotic punk rock, the guitars grinding and chugging, the drums a furious flurry of lightning fast beats, the vox howled over the churning punk fury below, the lyrics covering everything from animal rights to pacifism, racism to religion, each record an epic onslaught micro grindpunk epics, most clocking it at less than a minute, many half that, but these guys cram as much musical and lyrical vitriol in a matter of seconds than most bands manage over the course of a whole record. Even after years of listening to metal and punk and pretty much every variation and permutation of both, black metal, doom metal, grindcore, crustcore, whatever, there's still something so pure and honest and intense about Dropdead, raw and primal and at the same time impossibly epic and emotional and personal, the sort of punk rock that was as concerned with changing minds and fighting against injustices as it was with getting the pit moving, and in the process, they somehow managed to make these 30 second blasts of sonic ultraviolence, catchy as fuck.
Any one into any sort of heavy music, who doesn't own these classic albums, is missing out big time. All three records have been reissued on vinyl for the first time in ages, their 1993 self titled debut, their 1998 second album (also confusingly self titled) and their insane and untouchable discography collection, which gathers up singles and comp tracks, as well as Dropdead stuff from splits with Rupture and Crossed Out. Hard to recommend one over any of the others, all three rule and are absolutely essential, if you can buy all three, you won't be sorry, but at least buy one, start with any of them, odds are you'll want the rest. One of our favorite bands EVER.
If an argument had to be made for greatest modern American hardcore/grindcore band, it would be pretty tough to argue with Rhode Island's Dropdead. One of the heaviest, fastest, hardest, most pissed off and politically righteous punk rock bands EVER, devastating obliticore/blistercore/fastcore/powerviolence that KILLS, total thrashing metallic punk rock fury, beholden to classic Swedish hardcore, and old school UK D-beat, British anarcho punk and of course Japanese crust, yet somehow these guys took all those influences and wove them into something singularly epic and transcendent and about a million times better than pretty much every other punk rock band we can think of. Short, sharp blasts of blasting thrashing chaotic punk rock, the guitars grinding and chugging, the drums a furious flurry of lightning fast beats, the vox howled over the churning punk fury below, the lyrics covering everything from animal rights to pacifism, racism to religion, each record an epic onslaught micro grindpunk epics, most clocking it at less than a minute, many half that, but these guys cram as much musical and lyrical vitriol in a matter of seconds than most bands manage over the course of a whole record. Even after years of listening to metal and punk and pretty much every variation and permutation of both, black metal, doom metal, grindcore, crustcore, whatever, there's still something so pure and honest and intense about Dropdead, raw and primal and at the same time impossibly epic and emotional and personal, the sort of punk rock that was as concerned with changing minds and fighting against injustices as it was with getting the pit moving, and in the process, they somehow managed to make these 30 second blasts of sonic ultraviolence, catchy as fuck.
Any one into any sort of heavy music, who doesn't own these classic albums, is missing out big time. All three records have been reissued on vinyl for the first time in ages, their 1993 self titled debut, their 1998 second album (also confusingly self titled) and their insane and untouchable discography collection, which gathers up singles and comp tracks, as well as Dropdead stuff from splits with Rupture and Crossed Out. Hard to recommend one over any of the others, all three rule and are absolutely essential, if you can buy all three, you won't be sorry, but at least buy one, start with any of them, odds are you'll want the rest. One of our favorite bands EVER.
Nine minutes of raging grinding mayhem from two of the fiercest bands in the land. You heard me, 9 MINUTES! Nine tracks. 6 tracks from Rhode Island's kings of crusty grind, Drop Dead, sounding as brutal as ever. And 3 tracks from Totalitar from Sweden, thrashing garage-y hardcore. Only nine minutes but it's only $4.50. Worth every penny.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Full length number two from this East Coast noise rock trio, finally available, self released on vinyl by the band on their own label, whose recent set at the aQuarius / WFMU South By Southwest showcase blew us all away. An insanely kinetic display of tense mathy crush, pounding feral filth, and blasting, churning, grinding, blown out heaviness. It's hard to translate that sort of live energy to disc for sure, but this new album comes pretty close. The guitars impossibly distorted and in the red, pegging the meters and seemingly transforming into some strange looped and clipped chug, the drums pounding and relentless, the vocals howled and barked and buried in the mix, the band locking into full on feedback drenched hypnorock, before letting it splinter into strange stuttery stop starts, or almost blast beat driven bursts of black energy.
A few of the tracks slow it down a little, but that's about all the respite you'll get, and even the dirgier numbers are still oozing grit and filth, threatening to destroy your speakers and bloody your ears. A couple favorites, "All The Dead Dogs", with its super distorted riffy churn, bizarre blown out percussion, and killer main groove, all chug and thud, with little flurries of all out noise peppering the otherwise tightly controlled crush. "Quality Of My Life", with its opening salvo of layered feedback, pounding drum stutter, and the way the drums and guitars lock into this weird rhythmic throb, before exploding into some serious skull crushing heaviness. But hell, we could pick any of these jams, they're all fierce and fucked up and awesome, the whole record playing out like one massive, multi movement, damaged and demented noise rock epic. Essential ear punishment for fans of Brainbombs, Mayyors, No Balls, Twin Stumps, Rusted Shut, Billy Bao, White Mice, Anals, Liquorball and other similarly unhinged noiseniks.
It's worth noting, though, that Drunkdriver broke up recently, under difficult circumstances, as it turns out there were some serious allegations about DD's drummer and some alleged fucked up shit in his past, and while he vehemently denies everything, and his bandmates supported him (although some online sources report otherwise), the band finally decided they just didn't want to deal with all the rumors and the constant pressure of all that nothing-to-do-with-the-music bullshit, just so you know, even though we figure if you don't have a problem with a band called Drunkdriver to begin with, you can probably separate enjoying the album from any alleged problematic actions of the persons involved in making it, after all the music's still the same awesome noisy punk rock we liked before all this hit the fan.
Been trying to get some Drunkdriver into the store before South By Southwest, as these guys are gonna be playing our showcase, and here we go, finally, their first (?) 7", and it's a fist in the face, ice pick in the ear doozy. It sounds exactly what you might imagine a Drunkdriver might sound like, if instead of getting behind the wheel, they got up on stage with a pile of amps and a beat up old drum it, a super chaotic, unhinged, wildly careening, ultra distorted in the red chunk of drugged out, FX drenched noise rock damage. Churning riffage, wild proggy drumming, feral throat shredding vox, but the sound is surprisingly dynamic, lurching start stops, catchy melodies, weirdly hooky riffs, the A side, "Knife Day" could be some sort of noise rock anthem.
The B side takes care of that right quick, even noisier, the band lock into a stuttery lurch, a controlled stumble, all crunch and crumble, the vocals unhinged and hysterical, with a killer, almost classic metal sounding breakdown, some more seriously hooky riffage, all kinds of good stuff buried beneath the blackened avalanche of skin peeling rooooaaaaar.
White vinyl!
Full length number two from this East Coast noise rock trio, finally available, self-released on vinyl by the band on their own label, whose recent set at the aQuarius / WFMU South By Southwest showcase blew us all away. An insanely kinetic display of tense mathy crush, pounding feral filth, and blasting, churning, grinding, blown out heaviness. It's hard to translate that sort of live energy to disc for sure, but this new album comes pretty close. The guitars impossibly distorted and in the red, pegging the meters and seemingly transforming into some strange looped and clipped chug, the drums pounding and relentless, the vocals howled and barked and buried in the mix, the band locking into full on feedback drenched hypnorock, before letting it splinter into strange stuttery stop starts, or almost blast beat driven bursts of black energy.
A few of the tracks slow it down a little, but that's about all the respite you'll get, and even the dirgier numbers are still oozing grit and filth, threatening to destroy your speakers and bloody your ears. A couple favorites, "All The Dead Dogs", with its super distorted riffy churn, bizarre blown out percussion, and killer main groove, all chug and thud, with little flurries of all out noise peppering the otherwise tightly controlled crush. "Quality Of My Life", with its opening salvo of layered feedback, pounding drum stutter, and the way the drums and guitars lock into this weird rhythmic throb, before exploding into some serious skull crushing heaviness. But hell, we could pick any of these jams, they're all fierce and fucked up and awesome, the whole record playing out like one massive, multi movement, damaged and demented noise rock epic. Essential ear punishment for fans of Brainbombs, Mayyors, No Balls, Twin Stumps, Rusted Shut, Billy Bao, White Mice, Anals, Liquorball and other similarly unhinged noiseniks.
It's worth noting, though, that Drunkdriver broke up recently, under difficult circumstances, as it turns out there were some serious allegations about DD's drummer and some alleged fucked up shit in his past, and while he vehemently denies everything, and his bandmates supported him (although some online sources report otherwise), the band finally decided they just didn't want to deal with all the rumors and the constant pressure of all that nothing-to-do-with-the-music bullshit, just so you know, even though we figure if you don't have a problem with a band called Drunkdriver to begin with, you can probably separate enjoying the album from any alleged problematic actions of the persons involved in making it, after all the music's still the same awesome noisy punk rock we liked before all this hit the fan.
Pressed on super thick vinyl, packaged in really nice heavy jackets...
Hey, it's just like old times! Jay Hinman, former editor/publisher of the music fanzine Superdope (1991-1998) has jumped back into the 'zine game with this new dead tree periodical. He does a Dynamite Hemorrhage podcast too, and Dynamite Hemorrhage was originally birthed as a blog, but it's great to see this new off-line, in-print 'zine happening. The debut issue is full-sized, with a color cover, b&w interior, 64 pages, in the if-it-ain't-broke-don't-fix-it, tried-and-true fanzine format of olde. Desktop publishing, baby.
As with Superdope, Jay's focus here is on the garage/indie underground pretty much, old and new. The cover story is on The Flesh Eaters (appropriately enough, since "Dynamite Hemorrhage" is the name of one of their songs). Jay interviews frontman Chris D., specifically and in-depth about the 1977-1980 era, discussing the LA punk scene, his Upsetter label, Slash magazine where he worked, the Masque, etc.
More obscure punk history is unearthed in an interview with '90s Scottish all girl garage group Sally Skull, and recently reissued on Captured Tracks DIY popsters Bona Dish. There's also interviews with current-day bands too: Columbus Ohio lo-fi garage scuzz unit Sex Tide, and NYC minimal postpunk duo Household. Perhaps best of all though, is the contribution here from the folks who do the Fuckin' Record Reviews blog on tumblr, a retrospective feature about all of their favorite underground music fanzines from back in the day - Butt Rag, Crank, Opprobrium, Bananafish, and more. Ah, the nostalgia. We still treasure our back issues of all of those 'zine mentioned, and now know about some others we wish we'd read/collected back then.
Oh, and there's plenty of music (and book) reviews of course, in fact, the reviews section takes up almost half the page count! They're informed, amusing, and either enthused or acerbic as appropriate. That Sunfoot review, ouch!
Basically, Dynamite Hemorrhage #1 is a damn good example of just why we read 'zines. Looking forward to #2.
All right! The 2nd issue is here of this cool old school style music zine, from the guy (Jay Hinman) who used to do the fanzine Super Dope back in the '90s. Slick cover, 80 pages - even bigger than issue #1. Lots of great stuff about underground music old and new - NZ legend Bill Direen is on the cover, Dynamite Hemorrhage providing both an interview and a discography/retrospective. Also, you get stuff on great Goner-label Memphis garage punks the Nots, lo-fi popsmiths Honey Radar, the 'behind the scenes story' of the Back From The Grave compilation series, and the Punk 45 series too, a "Layman's Guide to 1970s Jamaican Dub" from Jay, a primer on obscure '70s-'90s female punk/post-punk, tons of record reviews, book reviews too, and a bunch more, basically all the sort of cool stuff you want in a music zine. Classic. And it hasn't even been a full year since issue #1, so we're hoping to see #3 sometime next fall!
