Tag: #Import 2025-04-25 15:23

dopes to infinity

‘Back again to follow up on their critically acclaimed album of last rnyear, “Superjudge,” Monster Magner is back with their latest release, “Dopes to Infinity.”

Lead vocalist, David Wyndark, has proven very clearly in this album exactly what he is.  He is stuck between being a problematic generation x-er of the nineties and an acid dropping drug culture lover of the sixties.  He proves this with his deep lyrics and the haunting sounds of deep instruments such as the mellotron, theremin, organ, and so on.

This anti-trendy album takes you back to the days of Black Sabbath, the “Louder than Love” Soundgarden and even the Butthole Surfers.  All of their albums seem to be coming from the same place, yet getting deeper and better as they go along.  I think that James Rotondi from Car Stereo Review put it best when he said: “Three albums into their career… Monster Magnet is still a well-kept secret possibly because they’re deemed rntoo dangerous and Dionysian for modern rock radio and too out there for most classic rockers.”

The best track on the album is “Negasonic Teenage Warhead.” This song also has the best title.  On a one to ten scale, I would have to give this album… infinity.  Check it out.

http://members.tripod.com/oldmanriggs/george.html

‘The first week of fall semester has come to an end. The families have come and gone, dropping you, and their credit cards, off.

If you’ve spent the summer with your family, it was most likely refreshing to say goodbye to them last week. That will change at some point soon. Once you realize the good cooking, clean laundry and ability to borrow that sweet ride sitting in your parents’ garage is all gone, you’ll wonder why you were so anxious to leave.

We’d like to offer a website as a reminder as to why kids need to leave the nest. The site “George – stuffed and mounted dog…” is nothing shy of creepy. It is a memento of how men and women start doing very strange things when they get married, have children and lose all of their friends. Some fathers, for example, take up eclectic hobbies like collecting miniature train sets, building boats inside of glass bottles or (like most dads) collecting porn.

Well, George’s owner, who goes by “Old Man” on the site, took it upon himself to make his dead dog his hobby.

As he explains on the website, “One day Maw came home and George ran out to greet her (his tags a-jingling) and a smile on his face. When Maw pulled in the driveway the jingling stopped. Maw feared the worst… and it was.”

So, she put the dog in the freezer. When the freezer door was left open and George began thawing besides the ice cream, they had the dog stuffed.

The dog was in the freezer. WHAT?

Since the replacement of his insides, George has attended countless affairs, from New Year’s parties to birthday parties. The bonus is, Old Man made a hobby of taking photos to commemorate his attendance. Jesus Christ.

If this is not a good reason to move far away from your folks, then there is none. Just keep in mind, one day you will be old too. Pick a wise hobby now.

puckett’s versus the country boy

‘You know him from Weezer and followed him through the Rentals, but all that can be definitively said of Matt Sharp as of late is that his voice has not been clearly heard for the past four years or so.

Well, now Sharp has resurfaced and he’s found himself pretty damned far away from home. The head-bobbing pop tunes and Moog-driven melodies are none more. This is a person reborn as man and guitar – as Bob Dylan.

“Puckett’s Versus the Country Boy” is an EP that shows off Sharp’s versatility by stripping down the songs to their bare essentials. He sings in whispers, leaving the slide guitar to set the tone and elicit the intended emotions.

The scene is set as sad, somber. The further into the album we march, the more instruments are added. It’s an ambience that grows around you, waiting for the big release of crescendo that comes only sublimely. In the end, the album leaves you a little down, a little curious.

On the initial listens, you sidetrack from the lyrics. Tangentially, you become the d/nouement. You play out the tragedy of Sharp’s parting with Weezer and the god-awful music that band has made since then. You consider the Rentals to be the bright, promising firecracker that merely fizzled away, snaking slowly across the ground as an empty black sky waits for it above.

You are happy with these songs but you wonder if there is any resentment left among these former band mates. Where is the glory? The spotlight? The glamour? What has driven him to the path of singer/songwriter?

The crazy antics are gone, as are all things fun and superficial with this new solo project. What is left is a musician baring his soul, begging to be embraced and accepted for what he is.

Of course, we’ll embrace and accept him, but we can’t help but wonder what series of events has led up to this drastic change.

how to start a fire

‘In a recently released satire entitled “The Hipster Handbook,” the “Metal as Fuck” section states that a hipster must “make fun of electronic music and every band on Thrill Jockey.” In the logical, yet surprisingly overlooked, progression of the “Atheist as Fuck” section, one could assume the book would state that hipsters must “make fun of Christian rock and every band on Tooth & Nail Records.”

Let’s be honest with ourselves here, Christian rock is not spreading the word of God. Do you think, all things assumed, that God is looking down from heaven saying “Thank me for P.O.D. and the likes of Creed”?

Although the Christian rock movement has aligned FSF within its boundaries, the band has made a point to say that they are religious but have drawn firm lines between music and beliefs, similar to the lines drawn between church and state. (“Didn’t you know you were a saint what a shameful fall from grace but I’ll catch you,” “I am redemption,” “Oh my God I’ve been waiting for you all my life,” etc.)

Of course, it’s easy to come down hard on a band such as FSF. The mere mention of former lead singer turned pop/sex icon Chris Carrabba would be reason enough for most. It is a scar that the band wears prominently and somewhat piously. Like a scar, it was also beyond the band’s control. It’s an act of fate (God?) that must be accepted in order to move on.

To those who have not heard anything since “The Moon is Down,” the band’s debut full-length, do not anticipate any big surprise, just consistent growth. Jason Gleason fills the metaphorical shoes of Carrabba quite well, too. Keep in mind; he’s a small boy with small feet. It’s the emotion in his heart, and the empathetic hand-on-chest beating that strays from the hearts of fifteen-year-old girls everywhere that appears as oversized and crowding on Carrabba.

Outside of any outstanding premeditated resentment, there are only a few things to complain about within the album. The most major complaint of both the new album and the new-ish addition of Gleason would be the lyrics. Each line clings on to the next in hope of not falling into clich? hell. Despite the promise of “Against My Better Judgment,” they fell and continue to fall with every succeeding track.

At least the lyrics are well put together in a catchy, yet unsurprising traditional fashion alongside a sleek poly-cotton blend of musical fabric.

as the eternal cowboy

‘Fat Mike likes pop punk. He’s got a good ear for it. More importantly, he seems to like bands with a sense of humor. His label, like his band NOFX, is riddled with it.

That’s why it makes perfect sense for Gainesville, Florida’s Against Me! To be releasing “As the Eternal Cowboy,” their sophomore follow-up to 2002’s “Reinventing Axl Rose.” If it’s a savory blend of punk, pop and cynicism you’re looking for, search no further.

As is the case with some albums, the cover catches your eye long before you even have a chance to put the record in. The hot pink titles pique your curiosity. Upon a closer inspection, titles such as “Clich/ Guevara,” “Sink, Florida, Sink,” and “Turn Those Clapping Hands Into Angry Balled Fists,” assure you that the band is all about a good time.

Against Me! fits well in the Fat Wreck lineup, among similar bands that easily could serve as their musical muses, including Lagwagon, NOFX, and Me First and the Gimme Gimmes.

They seem like the kind of guys that, like David Sedaris, spend most of their time in grammar school being scolded for banging their shoes against their heads and licking the light switches, and you have to love them for it. No matter how childish you want to think it is, you just can’t stop laughing.

This band represents what more punk music should be like: something as witty as it is well-written, as relentlessly comical as it is catchy.

Whether you get the pure satisfaction of hearing a groundbreaking album is up for grabs, but the fact of the matter is that you’ll never think twice about it once their antics have reeled you in.

orphanendorphindolphindorsalfin

‘the title might suggest, this album is not your run of the mill release.  It is an extremely well produced basement release that came to fruition when long time friends Dave Dunn and Jeff Mott got together to combine their latent musical talents.  This combination exploded into a 17 track release that makes most other vanguard bands look blasxefxbfxbd.

The Robbers do not intend to mince words here.  They are very forward about the fact that this music was created as art without an audience in mind.  A compilation of music created for the sake of music a somewhat novel concept nowadays.  At the same time, these songs are not inaccessible.  Rather, they take some adjusting in order to get used to hearing something different.  If anything, that should be a compliment to both the band and the album.

Even though the music on this album was written with only two people, it is still without bound.  The Robbers draw on numerous instrumental sources to create a music environment, landscaping the aural space between the listeners’ ears.  In a similar nature to bands such as Tortoise, the Robbers’ debut release is something that lends the listener the possibility for endless exploration.  The more one listens to the album, the more subtle nuances may be discovered.

As aforementioned, “OrphanEndorphinDolphinDorsalFin” is the first collaborative work of the Robbers.  On the whole, it is a great freshman offering from the band.  Relying on experimentation and a limitless use of anything within the band’s grasp as an instrument, this album is much more than a group of songs that flow well together.  It is also an experience and, as an experience, it is impossible to capture its essence in a recording studio.  There is something missing from this album and that is the live performance.  The Robbers are a band that need to be experienced live in order to fully grasp the nature of their works.

The songs on “OrphanEndorphin” are extremely well composed and arranged.  A good deal of effort and thought went into the creation and production of each track and it shows.  The strengths of this band are hard to categorize due to the prevalence of variety and tight songwriting skills.  Some songs, such as the opening track, “What’s we’re ander?” show the Robbers’ ability to write catchy hooks and intriguing riffs without compromising a sense of artistic integrity.  Other tracks, like “A typesetter in Russia” bring out the band’s spacier and avant garde side.  “A typesetter in Russia” is actually quite reminiscent of the music of A Study In Her, one of the many bands that formed out of the ashes of D.C.’s Jenhitt.

“OrphanEndorphin” is well worth numerous listens.  If they play live locally, they are equally worthy of seeing them in order to round out the listening experience.  Considering the fact that this is their first attempt at writing songs together and that they learned how to do all of the recording for the album, it is very impressive.  The Robbers may require some time and patience, but once it clicks, it is more than worth the effort put into it.

listen hard

‘Sometimes preconceived notions get the best of you. All it may take is a certain album cover design or a band named after the singer/songwriter to elicit a cringed face or upturned nose. Often that response is followed by the phrase ?Uh oh.?

It would be a lie to say that ?Listen Hard? did not elicit such a response prior to the first listening.

To be proven wrong only makes an album that much more powerful. It?s an unexpected surprise that lightens the day a bit. It is hard to say whether Melissa?s voice or her guitar was the more impressive surprise, though.

Vocally, she is a good mixture between Ani DiFranco (the melodies and the lyrics) and Sheryl Crow (the twang).

Melissa keeps true to the statement ?I hate slow? that she makes in the song ?Selfish Side.? The distorted guitars provide fierce and fast neo-folk (such terminology may be blasxefxbfxbd yet necessary to provide an accurate description), which is also a bit reminiscent of Ms. DiFranco. Needless to say, the bass and drums follow the suit of the guitars pace making it sound a bit like a female and sober Flogging Molly.

As the album advances, the tempo slows down, as might be expected. These are the moments that the Sheryl Crow influence permeates the most.

These slower songs fit right into the folk rock genre. As its history and tradition suggest, folk musicians adhere to strict rules regarding guitar progressions and vocal stylings. After the first couple of songs, Melissa rarely breaks with tradition.

While the next part may be anticipated and unsurprising, the album remains at a fairly high quality that is worth numerous listens.

?marie in the middle,? which is the only song in the middle of the album that speeds up the tempo, has a Coldplay twist to it which makes it one of the better tracks on the album. In competition for that top spot would be the opening two tracks ?burn this guitar,? and ?shatter me.?

At points, though, the phrase ?Uh oh? was warranted. Namely, this came when Melissa felt the need to scat. Rarely if ever is it a good idea there, Cab Calloway. Leave anything jazz in roots to the jazz musicians.

must i paint you a picture?

‘Billy Bragg, the UK’s premiere singer/songwriter, may be at the forefront of keeping old-time, folk-inspired music alive. To some, he is the Phil Ochs or Woody Guthrie of our generation. He is a man that has a political agenda that who is easy for the listener to accept. The British accent, the rugged good looks, the sweeping hooks and reeling melodies: they’re irresistible… well, maybe the looks aren’t necessary. If you’re into that kind of thing, what’s better than a tall Bloke who knows what he stands for and would die for his freedom to drink a cup of tea?

Most of Bragg’s best tunes are represented on the tracks of this three-disk compilation of his work. His catchier yet mainly political tracks such as “Help Save the Youth of America,” “Waiting for the Great Leap Forwards,” and “To Have And To Have Not” are all there. So are the screw-love, I-want-sex-and-kindness songs like “A New England,” and Woody Guthrie covers with Wilco like “Way Over Yonder in the Minor Key” that exponentially increased his notoriety.

This album is a must-have and a fitting compilation for one of the most prolific and underrated musicians of our time. Also, it is a simple way to collect some of his finest musical moments without spending a fortune on his entire catalogue.

As an added bonus, the third CD contains rarity tracks, most of which are cover songs. It brings the track total up to 50 songs, an astounding number of appealing tracks that can be topped by only a few bands – most of which also happen to be British, coincidentally.

educated guess

‘Another year, another Ani Difranco album.

In the past twelve months or so, this politically minded musician has caused a good bit of controversy, something she feels quite at home doing. This time, it was not what she said that caused a stir; it’s what she refused to say. She and her potent politics parted ways. After who knows how many years and how many songs ridiculing the right, she put her pedestal aside and decided to sing from ground level.

This might turn her into a bit more of an obscure figure but this is Ani we’re talking about here. She will survive. As long as she preaches of her loves, we know she’ll stay alive.

As her 2004 offering, we have been given “Educated Guess,” fourteen new tracks characterized by their left-of-center harmonies and, well, not much else. Is it going to be good? Will it blow her fan base away? There’s got to be something innovative that Difranco will do to hold onto her groundbreaking-artist status.

The fact of the matter is, these questions are irrelevant. The question at hand to be begged is: is she still a relevant musician, or is she on her way to the VH1, “I Love The ’80s” pool of the washed up?

If you’re not sure, keep up with your cable bills and check your local listings.

It could worse. At least you won’t see her on “Hollywood Squares,” if that show even exists anymore.

Her rationalization for where she is and what she’s doing is explained in “The True Story of What Was,” a spoken-word placed directly in the middle of the album.

Excuses, excuses.

Ani, here’s a piece of advice: put down the guitar, grab a pen and paper and head to the local coffee shop. You’re good with words. Switch your medium of conveying them while you still have a chance. Another album like this and Righteous Babe is going to be in dire straits.

tomorrow come today

‘When this album showed up in the office, the questions “Where’s your anger? Where’s your fucking rage?” would have been perfect to use against the band.

After all, their streak of successful releases had to break at some point. Their combination of hardcore rhythms and sweet vocal melodies, coupled with the harshest and heaviest of screams, and the most moving lyrics (often based on militant activism) was only a fad, right?

All attempts at turning the band’s own words against them were unfertile. This album was addictive from note one. Damn you, Nathan Gray and company.

“Tomorrow Come Today” continues right along the linear path of Boysetsfire releases, combining the edginess of “The Day the Sun Went Out” with the refinement of “After the Eulogy.” Of course, there are no Motley Crue covers on this record. Oh well.

How can a band be both edgy and refined, you may wonder? Well, ask the fire starters themselves. It is a complex formula that, it seems safe to assume, no one at MIT has replicated (although the heavily chorused bass riffs on parts of “Tomorrow Come Today” do flirt with comparisons to Tool – that is not necessarily a bad thing).

This album does make you realize just how commercial the hardcore sound has become recently. That, too, is not necessarily bad. It’s just interesting to see how many bands are living off the revenue that such a radio-unfriendly sound generates. It seems a long way off before Boysetsfire will be on TRL, but many of their contemporaries have gone that route.

It is reassuring to have a band like BSF still producing moving work. They are a band with a prevailing conscience. Not only will they not let themselves lose this admirable trait, but they, alongside of bands like Propagandhi, make it a point to stick it to any hypocrite who happens to hear the album. It’s old-school punk, all about ethics and keeping it real. Considering the sad state toward which music is headed, their sentiments seem almost nostalgic.

To picture BSF, think of Noam Chomsky fronting a hardcore band (his voice is almost raspy enough). Of course, that’s taking it a bit far. The band has always tackled intense issues from deconstructing the government, to bringing issues of sexuality and abuse to the forefront, to war. This album is no different. Expect the topics of September 11, and the government’s reaction and responses to “the day that changed the world” to come up in a few songs.

Whether or no you dispute the appropriateness of these topics, there is one undeniable statement that can be made about BSF. For any hardcore fan, they are the best thing that has ever come out of Newark, Delaware.