I’m just glad there are bands, in the present, with well-worn copies of “No Gods/No Managers” and a hankering to crank-out raucous ska. If you fancy yourself a fan of any project featuring Ezra Kire, then you’ll probably be into Atrocity Solution’s sonic-wares. Well, that and a bit of Bigwig’s melodic-hardcore.
I, for the pain of me, cannot get into this record. Would that I could extol the virtues of their last recorded work, but it’s just not happening. All songs from the ‘Cold Rain’ EP are tops, but the rest is just not very exciting.
On a positive note: Mr. Shirley’s recording talents are TOP NOTCH! He has been producing some excellent material as of late and I hope he (and the artists he works with) continue to create excellent material for years to come.
Irreverently reverent and fuzzed-out to the point of no return. They’ve been around for many moons, and yet they always manage to keep it fresh and fun. My kind of noise!
Never thought I’d hear a cacophonous d-beat band on Bridge 9 – but hear ya’ go! These Italians can really make a mess! I mean that in the best possible way too.
This is, undoubtedly, the year of Southern Lord Records and though this LP was somewhat of a ‘let-down’ – it’s still a thunderously loud and ‘brilliant let-down’. That last statement made no sense whatsoever – but who cares? After a few more months and spins ‘under the belt’, I’d likely bump this long-play up a point.
Favourite Tracks: ‘Karla’, ‘Made Out of Apes’, ‘Pig City II’
Lesser Work: ‘Superstitious Friend’, ’12:13′
Douse Yourself In Gasoline and Drop Dead (Preferably, after igniting your general person),
– Jeff
Less Common Rider, and more akin to Big Rig and the more abrasive moments of Operation Ivy. There are even a few moments that seemingly draw influence from Chicago greats Articles of Faith and their searing brand of punk-core. At times even reminiscent of ‘across-the-pond’ d-beat gods, Discharge (Just reference ‘Dissolve’ and see for yourself). Love this band, and all the bands these cats rock(ed) out in presently and in the past.
Favourite Songs: ‘Dissolve’, ‘Light Rail’ (The most Common Rider-esque track on here), ‘Gun Show’
Not so hot, but still decent: ‘Moving Pictures’
Shrimp-scampy on the bar-bee,
Jeff
Ehhhh! What do we have here? Curiousity…and its primed to murder felis catus. The lady centered in this feature is rather striking! She has the wiley/scuztacular allure of Angelina Jolie with the rounded facial features of Amanda Peet. Bet all the boys line-up for a chance to talk to her face-to-face at Sounds of The Underground. I know I would’ve…ten years ago or so. Whats that? “Not a woman?”, you say? Impossible, Jeeves! I know a lass when I see one! I assure you, the “new-poster-child” of Epitaph Records is a vision of feminine beauty! Look at those cheek-bones and tussled locks…
…His name is Oli Sykes? IT CANNOT BE! Surely, this “person” is serving as Epitaph’s “check” to the FBR’s “darling” Haylie Williams? Wait! It entered the “male-marked” port-a-john” at Van’s Warped Tour!? Nooooo! Folly! Folly-over-Wally’s-sheep-in-Whales-clothing! I’ve been had!
Pardon my initial reaction to entering the “new and improved” Epitaph website. The last time I checked in, Jim Lindberg manned the microphone for Pennywise and Gainesville’s Hot Water Music were prepped to drop their swan-song “The New What Next”. My how the winds of change have busied themselves! In fairness, Epitaph was already barking up this tree around 2003 or so, with “feminine rockstars” like Sonny Moore – but it appears the roots of “glammed-faux-metal” have grown into a veritable forest. Perhaps, I’ve lost more than a few of you already? A brief introduction/history of Santa Moniqua’s “E-Trade” may be in order. Here’s to it!
Epitaph was formed in 1981 as a means to support Brett Gurewitz’s(eseseses) insatiable lust for cocaine. Bad Religion (The forerunner) served as the fuel for his drive in obtaining, “the white stuff”. Like any good RPG from the 80s-90s he (and the band, of course) encountered bands of misfits along the way – and after besting them in a show of force (via ukulele) they joined his posse and produced more sonic-obnoxygen. See the vicious cycle!? Terrible! The Sno-Cones and cocaine were pouring in like a relentless monsoon, but the billowing surge came around 1994 when Poindexter Hollski (Of “Progeny” fame released “Smash”…eh…I digress (mofo). Sonically speaking, the bands of Epitaph pioneered what is commonly referred to as “skate-punk”. It was characterised by its clean (By “punk” standards. Ha! That’s right! I just used the words “punk” and “standards” in a thought blurb! Ha!), oft harmonised vocals, speedy palm-muted guitar work, and lyrics about being backed into the corner and getting ready to “come out swinging” (Alright, I’m done with the Offspring jabs). I discovered the “amazing world of Epitaphry” around 1995-ish. As a young teen, around that period, it would’ve been impossible not to be, considering the air-play Offspring received through Clear Channel (MTV, radio, magazines, newspaper, et cetera). They were trying times. The last vestige of “grunge” was going “belly-up”. We parted our hair down the center, and often gelled it. Braided belts were huge. Fluorescent tee-shirts were the norm and easily accessible. The dying of ones hair was strictly prohibited at most public schools – MAN – these gents really brought in the tides of change. Nowadays, you’d be hard-pressed to find a Catholic school that enforces rules on hair colour! Revolution! Get down! Through late-end junior high and in the earlier part of high-school, Epitaph’s roster of no-good-nicks graced the walls of my room (visually and via sonic bombardment). Alright, its time to cut the crap (sarcrapsm and all). Yes, Epitaph has served up a load of horrid trash in the past few years or so (With the exception of Converge, and a few of their recent signees), but they’ve also served up as precursors/curators of the “melodic-punk” sound. Through the Burning Heart, Hellcat, and Fat Possum imprints – they’ve tapped into a myriad of musical genres, namingly: punk, hardcore, ska, reggae, blues, country, hip-hop, industrial, glam-faux-metal, and new-wave. Name another label that can boast a line-up as diverse as Atmosphere, Refused, Converge, and Tom Waits? Good freakin’ luck! In usual form, but in no particular order, I’ll be doling out a Top Ten for my favourite Epitaph Records releases. Game on!
New Bomb Turks – Scared Straight
A hidden treasure from Columbus, Ohio. Garagey-punk-rock in the vein of Motown classics like the Motor City 5 and the Stooges. There’s a hint of classic Jerry Lee Lewis on rabble-rousers like “Professional Againster” and such. If only these cats caught the wave of praise The Hives generated. In a just world…
Pennywise – Self-titled
1992? Its hard to imagine the Godzilla-esque figure of Fletcher Dragge has been stalking the earth for that long! The Hermosa boys were most certainly at their peak, and raring out the gates with their brand of speedy skate-punk on this release. It’s like the funky, mutated stepson of Brian Wilson and Greg Graffin with loads of chunky palm-mutes and harmonic gang-vocals. A quintessential Epi-Fat punk-rock record.
Offspring – Ignition
Was this the era of ‘dreaded-Dex Hollski’? I’d say cutting his hair was the equivalent of Samson shedding his Nazarite ‘vows’ – ‘nerfing’ his sonic-manhood – but I tend to prefer ‘Ixnay…’. Said record came well after the ‘dreads’ went the way of Technicolor and Myspace. Death and transformation! Hi-ho! Soooooooo…this record. If Epitaph were to issue a ‘Holy Quintet’ in all things Santa Moniqua-harrific, surely this record would be placed on it.
NOFX – Liberation Animation
It’s nearly impossible to have an Epitaph Top Ten list without mentioning Fat Mike’s wretched abomination known as Noffimus-Spascowticus. The unintentional humour on this release is muy deliciouso. How’s your ‘green blood’ holding up, Mike?
Poison Idea – Feel The Darkness
The heaviest band on Earth (In every conceivable way! Weight! Sound! You name it)! This metric ton of human mass destroys you, and this LP – though a bit lacking in comparison to their back catalogue – still rules and then some. Dark lyrics, crunchy punk-metal, and Jerry Lang’s low howl have left an indelible mark on my mind. Its a rough and tumble world, and this LP certainly won’t bring a ray of sunshine for you. Suck it up, chump!
Hot Water Music – Caution
Arguably the best piece of “The Gainesville Four’s” clean-years. Thanks to the McTernanised production, everything came through as clean as a fresh bottle of Fuji. The multi-tracking on “Remedy” alone is enough to make most guitar sound purists jealous. Ragan and Wollard were definitely on top of their game, in a technical sense – but “Caution” still lacks the passion and energy of their prior work. Give it to me sloppy and ragged! Dang it!
Converge – No Heroes
Oooooh! Lookie! There’s a posterised eaglette against a blood-spattered background! Wait! The signature Jake ‘Skull’ is noticeably absent! Folly, I say! An Epitaph duplicate, of sorts to pollute our fair waters with its brand of scummy mall-bred chum. ‘Whats that?’ Epitaph signed the most consistent band in all of metalcore-dom? ‘A few years ago, you say?’ Oh, heavens! I feel faint…
…and I did too. However, all my fears were alleviated as soon as Bannon’s manic vocals kicked in on “Last Light” from 2004’s ‘You Fail Me’. Twenty-double-oh-six brought more metalcore goodness in the form of ‘No Heroes’ and this one cast all doubt from my mind. A gross display of sunshiney, grindy goodness. These cats are your best bet on the modern soundscape of Epitaph Reccies.
Rancid – “…And Out Come The Wolves”
One of the definitive records of the 90’s, suckah-dawg! This was one of the “Big Three” in stirring major label interest in the world of “hook-laden punk”, and with catchy hooks and choruses like these – its not hard to see why. Matt Freeman’s amazing bass skill is dialed-in (No pun intended) front and center, Tim still sounds like a Jersey-yap with a speech impediment and an excessively large bowling ball crammed down his throat, Lars Freddie’s snarling Strummer impression is raging in rare-form, and the ska-esque arrangements are rampant (No small wonder, considering this record was instrumental in the “ska-revival” of the mid-nineties). As far as post-Operation Ivy vets efforts, it’d rank a solid second – behind Common Rider’s “Classics of Love”.
Bad Religion – No Control
It almost feels like we’ve come full-circle (No pun intended) in this spread of syntax errors. How to begin? Its all here – everything Bad Religion-esque. Graffin’s verbose passages regarding the fallacy of base human ideals, but with the faint ray of hope penetrating the darkness of Pandora’s box of mischief. Gurewitz and Bentley’s backing vocals soaring like a choral chant of the damned. A riptide of buzz-sawing guitars and sublime solos. Man, this slab’o’wax is exhilarating! Even twenty-three years after the first pressing.
Refused – Shape of Punk To Come
Its the Burning Heart imprint – but still Epitaph as far as I’m concerned. One could argue that its merely the culmination of various periods of punk-rock and hardcore lumped together with nineties style electronica and beat-esque ‘poetry’. Did Dennis and company grow-up on the tuneage and manifestos of Sam McPheeters and Ian Svenonious? Most definitely! Argueably, Svenonious and Sammac borrowed heavily from the likes of Marinetti, but who’s counting, right? What’s wrong with co-opting material from your favourite bands and taking a go at it? Isn’t that the genesis of most bands? Nobody gives Ian Mackaye crap for trying to emulate Bad Brains self-titled LP! haha But, I digress – the record. This baby is still solid gold. Every note, drum-beat, and high-pitched wretch is perfect. I’d like to mention that they absolutely destroy in a live setting, as well.
Honourable Mentions:
Eyedea & Abilities – E&A
Descendents – Everything Sucks
Voodoo Glow Skulls – Firme
Death By Stereo – Day of The Death
Bouncing Souls – Hopeless Romantic
Agnostic Front – Somethings Gotta Give
Motion City Soundtrack – Commit This To Memory
Osker – Idle Will Kill
All – Problematic
Dag Nasty – Four On The Floor
“Life all comes down to a few moments. This is one of them. ” – Charlie Sheen
“Life” , like the landscape of Earth, can be painted in a myriad of ways; but it is, invariably, defined in polar extremes. The peak of Mount Godwin-Austen juxtaposed along the pressure-laden depths of the Marianas Trench (highs and lows) – these “fixtures” (Or features similar to them) are ones we draw upon when traipsing about the kaleidescopic “view” of recollection – whilst (often) overlooking the vast expanse “around” and “in-between” them. Auditory art flows through time and memory in a similar manner – the highest highs and pain-inducing lows. As a “point in case”, I can’t recall the number of mediocre bands I’ve sat through in an effort to find new and stimulating experiences – but you can be sure my powers of recall can draw the faintest detail of my first Pilfers show, or whenever a band “delivered the goods”. Fortunately, this night proved towards the later end of the aforementioned performance-wheel (an admixture of the colour-wheel and the food pyramid – with twice the caloric-content – and “spazz-factor”) and we’ll delve into an experience that echos the opening “statement” – a rare and precious moment etched in time.
Skirting the northern end of DePaul University, Chicago’s Lincoln Hall (host venue of this wonderous event) is a nice cleanly venue replete with warm inviting colours (of an earthen hue), a spacious – yet intimate atmosphere, full kitchen/bar combination, and a sexy modern aesthetic. Did I mention the cleanliness of the Hall yet? If not, it bears repeating – this place is HANDS DOWN the cleanest venue I’ve been to in Chicago. Criminy! Even the restrooms are well above reproach! Its hard to imagine a place rented out by FBI “hit men” soaked in the “blood of Dillinger” could be so spotless? Hi-ho! The show beckons! Onward and upward! First on the docket was Chicago’s own Team Band. They played a raucous set of rock-laden punk that reminded me of an amalgamation of the art-rock “frame” of Kudzu Wish , a faint trace of Naked Raygun harmony, mingled with the irreverent punk-vibe of the Angry Samoans. The bands performance was energetic, despite the general lackluster response of the audience (Cursed weekday shows!) these gents rocked the walls and then some. Numbers of particular note were: “Steal Your Song”, “Not In Love”, and “Subliminal”. “Steal Your Song”s sardonic cast brought back memories of horrid scene politicking and high school bands peddling their wares in sunny North Carolina many “eons” ago. Delicious commentary that is both humourous and universal in context to musical gatherings world-wide. Good times!
All Eyes West stepped in to a fairly packed venue and collided with the indifferent patrons of Lincoln Hall like the unrelenting tide of Virginia Beach. Their “brand” of post-hardcore hearkens back to the glory days of the early nineties when juggernauts like Jawbox, Seaweed, Kerosene 454, and Quicksand still roamed about. Everything you could possibly ask for, and more! Raspy vocals, bouncy bass lines, “stop-and-go” change-ups, dissonant octave wailing, and solid percussion. For my name-dropping brethren/sisteren, I’d liken them to a scrumptious blend of: “For Your Own Special Sweetheart” era Jawbox, early Foo Fighters, and “Richmond Hotel” era River City High (Mostly the vocal delivery. Justin Miller is almost a dead-ringer for James Menefree – at his raging prime). Perhaps a few of the softer moments of “Came By To Kill Me” tossed in – for good measure and all? They were a fairly energetic bunch as well, fun to watch – and I hope the masses steer clear of Mr. Dean’s “back-kick”. Getchyoo-yous-uh-huhs! The lighting, sound, and the general feel of the evening awash in warm/cool cascade of sonic-lashing and invigorating motion. There is nothing better than “riding blind” through “unfamiliar ground”, incorporating the experience into your being, and savoring it as a whole. I’ll be sure to acquire a copy of their new full-length when the time comes – even if Miller bears an auspicious resemblance to the Phoenix Suns , Steve Nash. With bated breath, my friends. Bated breath.
It may be close to impossible for a feeble being (as I) to put into words my feelings and expectations going in to this show. haha What a horrendous way to introduce one of the greatest bands going in the modern age! It should be painfully obvious to anyone “in the know” that I’m utterly enamoured with any project associated with one Walter Schreifels (The title of the blog itself comes from a Quicksand song for crying-shame!). How do you prepare to meet people whose sonic craft work shaped the very fabric of your formative years? Childhood memories of nosing through band leaflets/lyric sheet covers of the various hardcore, post-hardcore, jazz-avant-garde improv, and rock bands these men performed in. At the risk of gushing like a “blushing fan-boy”: these men formed the virtual “who’s-who” list of cutting-edge music/art movements in the 90’s and beyond. As a random aside: it remains a mystery to me, as to why the projects of these fellows never garnered the attention they should have. In a “just” world, they’d live as rock-monarchs/aristocracy.
They took the stage in a simple manner, to little fan-fare, and an audience of (mostly) grizzled beings in their late-twenties and beyond. Firstly, with “whip-cord” lean Cache Tolman, wielding his trusty translucent Dan Armstrong bass. Second, Ian Love – with an effects board that seemed to make him see tiny in comparison. In the “tertiary” front, Sammy Siegler – percussionist extraordinaire. Lastly, Mr. Walt (in the flesh) – red-hued Gibson SG and all. After a brief introduction and thanking the audience, they kicked into “Wring It Out”, the second single from their Pedals LP. Having streamed it, in its entirety, the same day, I was a tad disappointed with it – but it came to life with the full “stereo-effect” of blaring stage-sound. Goodness, every song they played was fairly spot-on, with minor improvisation here and there. The new material didn’t seem to draw much of a response from the crowd, barring a few heads “bobbing” in approval to the rhythm (Chicago is a harsh mistress). When the “gang” broke into mainstay, “Everything Has Its Point”, the energy of the audience picked up considerably, which seemed to be the case for all material presented off their first full-length. However, they seemed a bit off when performing said number. Things weren’t necessarily “gelling” in a cohesive fashion with it, and that could’ve had something to do with the monitor and PA sound being fairly skewed in the “vocals-to-guitar” quotient (As in barely audible vocals). Walter was fairly talkative between songs, and cracked a few jokes about Charlie Sheen’s antics and famous quotes (“Winning! Duh!”). Loved the joke about “discovering Charlie Sheen” that very night and something about being unaware of his general being as of late (“Last time I checked in with Sheen was with Platoon. Its been awhile.”) The rest of the “crew” was fairly silent, but this was yet the tip of the quirky humour permeating about the evening air.
They seemed to “hit their stride” again with crowd-pleaser, “High Acetate”. Hearing the swell of Ian’s effects-soaked guitar, in full, was mesmerising. Every snaring-smash, cymbal crash, plucked bass string, and gain-laden note was perfect and more. Its really something watching these gentlemen render this sound in a live setting. Magic, even. Other stand-outs, pre-closing, were: “Shot After Shot”, “Travel By Telephone”, and “Small Doses”. Their performance of “Travel By Telephone” absolutely raged live. Perhaps, it had something to do with the “band-huddle”? After doing the “closer” from their latest full-length, Walter joked around about “playing ska music” and proceeded to run-through a mock-ska rendition of “High Acetate”. In case you’re wondering – it was just as absurdly ludicrous and humorous as it sounds. My “late-nineties alter-ego” would’ve eaten something like that up (Ska-period and all). Is it possible, in a sonic sense, to produce anything more “gut-wrenchingly hilarious” than a third-wave Rival Schools? hahaha Seeing the Sammy “bob-and-weave” while keeping a “two-and-four” on the bass, with Walt (in tow) belting out the classic ska mainstays of “mouth-clicking” alongside an unhealthy serving of “Pick-it-ups!” Absolutely golden.
The set wound-down with a slow-groove version of “World Invitational” and the instrumental “Hooligans For Life”. Then a random, impromptu “jam-session” of sorts, where they played through a bunch of material that I wasn’t familiar with. After meandering through a number of songs, they settled on covering Dylan’s “Hey Joe!”. Nothing wrong with a bit of “tribute” to the greats, right? Then things got “ugly” (In a good way, of course) when Mr. Siegler drew a wry grin on his person, and proceeded to pound-out the familiar, syncopated “two-and-four” on the bass and high-hats on the upbeat – thus “mutating” the beloved Dylan classic into a third-wave ska “frankenbeast”. Folly! Hi-ho! After “getting their jollies going” with the jam-session, they promised to “throw down” with Worlds Fastest Car staple (Modified for use in the modern age with the Rival Schools brigade) “Used For Glue”. As is consistent with the rest of the night – they delivered on said promise. In a big way! With that, they exited the way they came in – but the audience wasn’t ready to let their heroes “head for home” just yet. After a bit of coaxing action, they returned to the stage and blasted us with The Smiths “How Soon Is Now?” presented after the manner of a beloved band that shall remain nameless. It met with roaring approval/applause, and they departed – leaving us to ponder upon the things we’d witnessed with our bodily senses. It, likely, took a moment to collect myself from the awe and spectacle that was the “Rival Schools” experience. A peculiar man, rumoured to have “cheetah-blood” coursing through his veins, once stated that “Life comes down to a few moments…”, I assure you – this was CERTAINLY one of the FEW.
Set-list:
01. Wring It Out
02. 69 Guns
03. Everything Has Its Point
04. High Acetate
05. Choose Your Adventure
06. Racing To Red Lights
07. Shot After Shot (Sofia Loren)
08. Undercovers On
09. Small Doses
10. Favourite Star
11. Good Things
12. Travel By Telephone
13. The Ghost Is Out There
14. High Acetate (Ska-style)
15. World Invitational
16. Hooligans For Life
17. The Switch
18. Hey Joe! (Improv. Then ruthlessly rent via “ska” fashion)
19. Used For Glue
Encore: “How Soon Is Now?” (Smiths cover a la’ Quicksand)
Shapes Not Too Selective 