Jesus Christ…the amount of seven inches I’ve accumulated in the past year is sorta puzzling. I don’t think I’ve been this single crazy since my short pants daze. I won’t get into my usual tail chasing of trying to figure out ‘why’, I’ll just talk about them and you can buy them if you want. What can I say? I’m a great guy. Buy me a drink next time you see me.
ImperialiSt Pigs are a unit I feel pretty stupid not knowing anything about up until now. Containing a pre-Poison Idea Tom Roberts (A.K.A. Pig Champion), they existed in Portland in the very early 80’s way before ole Piggy would start making late night phone calls to The Fix’s Steve Miller. This single of recently unearthed recordings of the band entitled ‘Corkscrew Porksword’ is real fucking intriguing. Obviously some of the early L.A. proto-core singles were making their way down the pike to Oregon at the time, ‘cause you could pretty much tag this as some lost ‘Bloodstains’ gem if you were blindfolded and force fed carpet samples. To make the situation even more confusing, it seems this has been released on the recently re-erected (duh) Fatal Erection label, home of all the early P.I. sides. Huh… By the by, lyrics about molesting children and sperm facials noted and accounted for.
The beardos over at the Black Velvet Fuckere label just dropped this pretty boss single by The Touched. The details on who exactly these jokers are is pretty slim, but taken at face value, it’s a pretty potent glob of warped garage rock. The vocalist has a cool non-Biafra warble to his delivery and the whole thing sounds like it was recorded at the bottom of a flooded well. One of the guys in the band is grabbing his crotch on the cover and I find that very endearing for some reason at the present moment. So heed this recommendation before my mood dips back into asshole mode…
One of my favorites outta all these little records I’ve done gotten lately has been this eight songer from Albany, New York’s Acid Reflux. This record is yet more proof that ’retro’ is nothing more than a five letter word made up by assholes who’d rather sniff each others’ butts than remove their brains outta their bread bin. Trust me, I’m the last motherfucker who wants to relive the days of ‘goof core’ (If you had to sit through Adrenalin O.D. as much I did, you’d feel the same way) but for some reason, the combination of this units’ blinding thrash and completely retarded lyrics has made me more than happy to be alive the past few days. Songs like ‘Do Your Parents Know You’re A Ramone?’ and ‘Oh Good, There’s An Applebees’ make me wanna throw my head outta my bedroom window and feel the whiz of stray bullets around my head more so than any Frederic Rzewski or Miller Anderson record I’ve played today (Nothing against either gent, of course) Hey, the same crap that was happening THEN is happening NOW, so why not party and scream in the abstract face of total shitdom? Right? Darn tootin’ you know I’m right. Where was I again? Oh yeah…put down that phony fucking hippy bullshit record and buy this from the totally estimable No Way imprint.
I got another single from Cleveland’s Midnight. There’s some sorta big story around them I’m sure. I know they have some connections with Boulder or some sorta horseshit. All I know is this new single of theirs “Midnight Slay The Spits’ is a record I like to play nice and loud like when the neighborhood kids are outside playing with stolen wheelchairs and weapons. The opening track, ‘Nuclear Bomb’, is like some unholy hybrid of the first few singles on both the No Future and Rip Off labels. The rest of the tracks are no slouches themselves, but that one…whew, it’s both a scorcher and a keeper. Stupidly limited with a total cheapo cover, this is the kinda stuff that gives me the hope I need to put on matching socks in the morning.
Like a complete Growing fan (i.e. -- a faggot) I totally missed Italy’s Out With A Bang when they bombarded our country with B.O. and drugs a month back. What can I say? I was too busy mellowing out in the hills of Taos while they installed the hot tub in my crystal mansion, O.K.? Luckily I scored a copy of the e.p. they released to coincide with the tour with the oh-so-endearing title ’Few Beers Left, But Out of Drugs’. This record ups the ante of the previous release in a no-nose holes-barred barrage of frenzied Punkin’ with the brains removed (of course). You remember those reviews Pushead used to write in the old issues of MRR? Well, obviously I do too… Would these guys be offended if I said they reminded me of those first two Yah Mos singles? The Yah Mos? Where the hell did that come from? How do I remember them? Yeez, these seven inches are worse than seeing an old girlfriend…Drudging up memories (maybe) best left in the crawlspaces of the brain. Anywhos…
California’s Shoot It Up are always having their name bandied about by the hip young Punker kids I invite over for candy and drugs, but I was too busy trying to play them my King Crimson live CD’s to really pay that much attention. This new six song e.p. of theirs really makes me feel like a stupe for not paying attention sooner. Yeah, yeah, yeah…those same three chords will always sound ’timeless’ when recorded into a tape recorder with some guy squealing over it, but the fact these guys have the nerve to release this on vinyl is enough reason to fly over there and give ‘em all syringes fulla boat cleaner free of charge. This goes beyond the realm of obnoxious punk into something that both pleases and frightens me at the same time. The day someone with the name of Oscillating Gizzards or whatever can do the same, I’ll eat a fat free smoothie.
You can acquire most of this shizz from the kids at No Way, Check ’em out here --
http://www.nowayrecords.com/
Now let me die in peace…
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