It's Desperately Useless Eating A Bleeding Moon

When getting right into the new Acid Baby Jesus release, I went through the Slovenly Records collection to see what else had been floating through their fetid waters recently (as I tend to miss a few the first time around). I stumbled across Desperate Living, the three track 7" that Memphis/San Fran garage gargantuans Useless Eaters put out in June (you can still get copies of it here). This kind of spat punk has remained fresh since Buzzcocks were just babes in the gutter, and the title track is a mainline-hit (the riff is a simple addiction, whilst the keys are especially 50s sci-fi glory). The other two tracks continue to lose the plot and steal minds - 'Dungeon' is a rusted spike through the brain, and 'I Think She Wants To Find Out' goes deep into the garage, neck on the mouldy couch with the stuffing leaking out onto the floor.



It's great but just a precursor to their new album (out through usual suspect Castle Face) Bleeding Moon. 'Dungeon' makes another appearance here, two seconds shorter and with a few flakes of rust chiseled off the edges - yet despite this, the album is both a mud map of new horizons for the band and an altogether different beast (as should be expected to be honest - the 7" is the perfect medium to be experimental, slapdash and loopy). A much more concerted effort has been taken on groove (think of better word...) whilst spicing the brew with an angular anxiety and aggression that has been largely missing in previous UE releases. 'American Cars' takes us straight away towards more elongated, heavy jams (at three-and-a-half minutes it's already three times the size of half their output), the constant snarl added a flinty rigidity that feels like Fu Manchu covering Wire through an MC5-and-mud-caked prism. 'Aftershock' is a sci-punk bubble blast recorded inside a Styrofoam shell, half-eaten burgers dripping down the walls; 'Retro Hoax' is throwing brass-knuckle punches out of the gate. 'Whip' eats a heavier load but could be an Eddy Current attempt at a dirge. The current profligeration of glam rock a la T-Rex to permeate garage inflections continues here on 'Out In The Night', yet there is still a sneering antipathy here, as if Seth Sutton and co. could either serenade you or glass you - most likely both simultaneously. It's a hedonistic miasma of all scuzz no fucks - 'Sitting On The Fault Lines', 'Walking In Circles' and 'Hidden Fees' (my favourite tracks) have that low rider bent to them, but also are spun out psych rock grunts that could just as well follow you home in the middle of the night... The thing is, and it's a Sutton trademark, Bleeding Moon never feels fatally dangerous - more deliriously so. Therefore you can justify losing your shit without wondering if someone was going to take your face off. Everyone wants to smash shit up then drink the bar dry, go home and do it again. No anarchy, just a good ol fashioned fuckaround. What more can a punk ask for?



Bleeding Moon is out now -  get it here - and in true manic Castle Face spirit, you can own it in their "Glass Half Full vinyl" (half white, half clear) - it looks amazing.

Running Man On Fire

Ty Segall and Drag City joined forces recently to start the God? imprint. It's been involved in some tasty morsels - White Fence and Wand being the most recognised. The one I have just latched on to though is the little-recognised but brilliantly anarchic Chicago trio Running (whose albums Vaguely Ethnic and Asshole Savant are untouchable) and their 7" Frizzled. Here is the B-side, 'Totally Fired' - and it is as deliciously unhinged as you would expect. Underneath the abrasive guitars is a weirdly hummable melody - no? Can't hear it? Whatever. Running is my new pop band to the stars. Get Frizzled here.

Driven Mad By The Male Gaze

Get a load of the abrasive catharsis of the male gaze when held in thrall by the band Male Gaze, the pastiche golem plied together out of clay, piss and shit by past members of Mayyors and Blasted Canyons (these guys are still a band though, right? RIGHT?) Standing astride the summit of Mt St Mtn, glaring into the abyss that lies beyond the 'Cliffs Of Madness' whilst slurring/bellowing from behind rusted instruments that squall and splutter. It's a auspicious 7" opening stand AKA loud, scuzzy and bristling with blood-drenched hooks - grab it here. The band will stretch things out into a full length, fittingly on SF nutbags Castle Face Records in the upcoming months.

A Warm Soda For A Young Reckless, Ageless Heart

For better or worse, I'm a massive fan of Warm Soda. The band. Warm soda is all kinds of awful. In fact, it’s not soda, it’s soft drink. Or pop. But let’s not digress too much…

Matthew Melton has a way of crafting and recording simple jangly garage rock compositions that are shone through a sepia, nostalgic prism – and I don’t mean Instagram selfie do a quick alteration and everything is groovy either. Like fellow Californian Mikal Cronin, Melton’s Warm Soda feels displaced, as if unearthed cryofrozen from a time capsule from a sunnier, sappier era of which history shows no sign of, like a decade . Something For You is a constant for me when I want to just relax with a goofy grin, and whilst newie Young Reckless Hearts (also out through ever-excellent Castle Face Records) pares things back a dash, the lack of a roaring rock track is compensated by unadulterated love and superfluous melodies flowing forth like bathing honey. Is it old? New? From a kid’s perspective looking forward? An ageing hippy looking back? Any of these things? None? It's a space-age contraption that came from ancient times...or something. I'm sleep deprived. All I know is, Young Reckless Hearts traverses time, space and sensibilities to nestle in the cockles of the (melted) heart.

Young Reckless Hearts is out now. These may be gone, but as always Castle Face are dabbling in weird colour vinyl schemes, and this version is called Pentacolor AND the first 69 bought receive a fridge magnet from the cluttered cover from Melton himself. Don't worry if you miss out though - the next batch is a milky clear vinyl with grape splatter. Seriously enough to give anyone the horn.

Warming Your Soda For You

Someone For You, the debut from Warm Soda has been out for a while, but I managed to pick up a reissued vinyl earlier this week (thanks to the ever-excellent Castle Face Records). The Oakland-based four-piece have risen from the smouldering ashes of Bare Wires to have crafted an album of raucous, loose garage rock and pop, their cocks in one hand and their heart in the other. Simple, dumb, sincere, drunken, fun with a capital F-U-N. My favourite is always swinging - today it's 'Waiting For Your Call'. Whatever - it's all the same, all the time. Seriously this record gets better with every listen - and they are already recording a follow up.

You can buy Someone For You here in either white or bubblegum blue vinyl with rainbow spatterings - party time on the turntable!

Ethnic Running

Chicago's Running can't stick to the underground any longer - John Dwyer won't let them. The Thee Oh Sees mastermind has dragged them kicking and screaming (so I imagine, although who could resist?) to put out an album on his Castle Face Records, and it's predictably razor cutter abrasion and tear, no salve for the wounds, just superglue, suture and suck it up. Vaguely Ethnic continues Running's penchant for atonal noise, set on a carousel of unrelenting bile and room-tilting nausea, all done with a devilish derring-do that dares you to defy their misanthropic desires. Each song runs into each other, mirroring each other, chimeric destruction on a motorik conveyor belt into the maw of the Mind Melt. Vaguely Ethnic is Castle Face's Necronomicon, crafted from flayed eardrums and singed tongues, a cacophonous pill for the digital age - forget white noise when there are so much to be loved in the red.

Vaguely Ethnic - 2013's noise totem.

Running - This Is A You Problem

Rock Four Thee

Ye olde English, what a blast, eh? Thou, thine, thy, thee. That extra E though tends to imbue an added layer of gritty garage looseness that straight-laced bands starting with "The" simply can't hold a candle to. Here are four examples...

The plastic, debauched, twisted fantasy land that is LA is a petri dish of creativity - spewing forth brilliance whilst also harbouring countless parasitic wasters. Thee Commons is an anomaly in that they don't sound anything like an LA band in almost any respect. Warped, strange, yet almost yesteryear-innocent, the four tunes on this EP plunder from 50s & 60s rock'n'roll - there is some of that hybridised brilliance that Buddy Holly had in spades in 'Dr's Visit' for example; wobbly sunburnt spaghetti surf yet with 21st century seediness bleaching in at the sides.  Sunburn At Midnight comes in turquoise vinyl 7" - definitely worth the pennies.

Thee Mighty Fevers come from the land of the rising sun, and we all know that Japan have unearthed some of the most depraved garage rock ever witnessed by the ears of man. These Kobe punks are snotty, bile swilling raconteurs, with endless chasms of nauseating energy, visceral nihilism and saliva. Every track starts with the same screamed 1234 count in. EVERY. SINGLE. SONG. Did I mention this is the perfect cocktail for the loosest night out? Ill probably see you there - won't remember it in the morning though. If you love this straight-up reckless garage punk (and my guess is you do), you need to get ahold of Fuck-in Great RnR this minute - I recommend the red wax.

Thee Mighty Fevers - Bad Party
Thee Mighty Fevers - RnR

Indiana's Thee Open Sex is the tangential odd band out, weaving deranged versions of psychedelia and punk in and out of each other in lurid form. Their self-titled record is one of the best and depraved things I have heard this year. It has heady sex with your ears, violates your cerebral vortex and impregnates your soul. Live Dead' is surely the soundtrack to the most hedonistic hallucinogenic orgy imaginable, on repeat, all the time. You won't have time to be spent - this is one aural orgasm that just won't quit. Seriously, get this now.

Thee Open Sex - Walkin' The Dog
Thee Open Sex - Live Dead

Finishing off with the E that rules them all (and the instigator of this post, seeing as I received this bone-coloured hottie in the mail yesterday), San Fran's hyperactive Rumpelstiltskins Thee Oh Sees. They released possibly their best album to date in Floating Coffin only last month, yet here is an excellent 12" EP made for Record Store Day that furthers their mythic consistency. Moon Sick harbours four blistering yet rather obtuse tracks that didn't make the Floating Coffin sessions - which is understandable, seeing as these songs would probably suit 2011's quirky Castlemania more. I loved that record though, so Moon Sick is still a killer purchase.  'Sewer Fire' is even sung by A-Frames/Intelligence impresario Lars Finberg - how much more power does a band wanna wield? Well worth innumerable spins, you can buy Moon Sick through the band's Castle Face Records here.

Just Vaguely Running

I mentioned in a recent post about Brisbane band Cobwebbs that it pisses me off when people assume that something is cool just because it is inaccessible. I know people who say they like things because they are oblique, obtuse, confrontational, indecipherable, and therein lies the attraction - most people will not attempt to penetrated such barriers, so the people who DO attempt it believe these artists must be geniuses. It may be true for some, but in most cases - such as the Vice review of Cobwebbs' All Around - it's utter bullshit. And totally untrue anyway - I saw a dude buy a copy from Rockinghorse Records on Saturday (I was buying Goat, Natural Child and The Animals LPs, just in case you were wondering).

I stumbled across this Impose article about Chicago band Running. Now, judging them on that name along, they (like Sydney band Songs) are very difficult to look for on Google. The writer of the article made it sound harder to hunt this band down than it truly was. as they had a album on Permanent Records and another on Captcha that came out last year. In fact, back in 2010 we wrote about that Permanent Records album right here. This isn't a "beat them to the pulse" kinda deal, I just don't like people immediately assuming that the inaccessibility of information on the Internet about something or someone means they are necessarily any good, or that they are even hiding from the perceived limelight.

Maybe they just don't own a computer.

That said, the Impose article isn't bad, and Running is fucking awesome, plus they are launching a new album on Castle Face that I believe could be one of the best records of 2013. Vaguely Ethnic is its name, and if 'Controversial PR' is anything to go buy, we are in for some serrated, bare-arse noisemongering, made by drunken degenerates in checked shirts, with bruised kidneys. The trio have going sans vocals on this one, which heightens the Pissed Jeans comparison sonically - breakneck breaking of necks are likely to ensue. 

Vaguely Ethnic isn't out for a couple months yet, but rest assured, expect to hear more about this release as it comes to hand. It will be a completely amazing physical package also - they take great care in their aesthetic, something akin to Double Dagger in that respect, which only helps to heighten the anticipation. I imagine they frequent The Empty Bottle too - and if you live in Chicago and DON'T frequent the Empty Bottle, we don't know each other anymore.

See Thee Oh Floating Coffin

It feel perfunctory telling you how good SF garage leviathans Thee Oh Sees' latest record Floating Coffin is. But then again, I probably should tell you that out of all of Dwyer and co's albums, this has been by far and large the most addictive album from start to finish for me - it's been locked in my car stereo since before Easter, and isn't likely to budge anytime soon. Below is a paraphrased version of the review I wrote for theMusic.com.au - check that one out here.

Five seconds into opening track 'I Come From The Mountain'  and it’s clear that the band, rather than diluting their style from overexposure the quartet are at supernova levels of intensity, ferocity and excellence. Like kindred spirit Ty Segall, Dwyer is a magnetic force, a feverish maelstrom of energy with an endless supply of riffs, melodies and yelps at his disposal. And like Segall, who took his garage rock DNA and fused it with Seventies era hard rock on 2012’s Slaughterhouse, Floating Coffin (out through Freeform Patterns and Fuse in Australia, Castle Face elsewhere) is a ramped up affair, perfectly augmenting last year’s great Putrifiers II in almost every conceivable facet.

'No Spell' wafts along like a sonorous Californian pop number, Brigid Dawson’s vocals deliberately flirting with the saccharine before being cut in half by a killer riff and Dwyer’s ecstatic bark; the feverish growl of ingenuously-named 'Strawberries 1 + 2' is a face-melter in the purest sense, before entering a intense motorik swirl into psych country; 'Night Crawler' takes a left-turn into spaced-out phasers and languid turns, before 'Sweet Helicopter' lifts off, and back into the stratosphere we go. 'Toe Cutter/Thumb Buster' best exemplifies the two extremes in the band’s blueprint, and is one of their best tracks because of it.

Not that other sonic artillery was necessary, but Dwyer ropes in the likes of luminaries Kelley Stoltz and Lars Finberg (A-Frames, The Intelligence, whose presence is truly felt on penultimate killer 'Tunnel Time' - which I might also add, is the closest I've ever heard a TOS song actually sound like local acolytes Tiny Migrants - kudos guys!), and the overall final product is addictive, breath-taking brilliance. 

Grab Floating Coffin here - garage excellence par none.

Thee Oh Sees - I Come From The Mountain

Thee Oh Sees - Toe Cutter/Thumb Buster

Total Control/Thee Oh Sees Split

What a delightful meeting of minds! San Fran crazy horses Thee Oh Sees are touring the States with Aussies debauched maurauders Total Control in tow, and have this split for you to ascertain how these two acts sound meshed together under one seedy sweat-stained roof. It is the usual spastic exuberance from Dwyer and co, whilst the four tracks from Total Control are embedded with seething disdain, a bizarrely corrosive counterpoint. Why it works I don't know. Maybe that cat that got it on with Paula Abdul is onto something...

And further good news is Thee Oh Sees will be playing in Brisbane at the turn of the New Year. Yes, they will be playing Woodland (after their show this time last year was cancelled due to the floods) on Jan 11. Maybe TC can make the trip northwards too?

Thee Oh Sees - Dead Energy

Total Control - Nervous Harvest

And for the live stuff?

Watch live streaming video from lepoissonrouge at livestream.com

Blasted Canyons Live Up To The Name

I posted about Wax Idols the other week, as their guitarist/frontwoman Heather Fedewa/Fortune is one punk rock goddess who slays all and sundry with her barbed hooks. Fedewa created something nasty and delectably palatable there; but I feel that her work on No Future may be underdone, if the self-titled LP from Blasted Canyons is anything to go by.


Hole E SHIT.

This album is pretty fucking incredible. Having taken pride of place on the eclectic and ramshackle Castle Face stable, Blasted Canyons serves as a manifesto that is full of vitriol, is scribed in blood and is wired to tonnes of Semtex. They have been heftily aided in their quest to destroy the world by producer Matt Hartman - yep, he of Sic Alps, whose Napa Asylum was yet another ace record of 2011. Throw Ty Segall into this crowd and you have San Francisco, the cornerstone to the best music made this year. Uh huh - Blasted Canyons is that good. For your sake, get this now.

Blasted Canyons - Blood On The Wall
Blasted Canyons - Death & A Half

A Flock of Segall/s

I cant claim to know all that much about Ty Segall - he literally has only come to my attention this week via the LP Melted (through Castle Face). All I can say is that this guy - whether he is DIY to the max, or collaborating - is fucking awesome. And although this Tiny Mix Tapes review didn't agree with me, it has certainly opened my eyes to the world of this literal one-man band, and expect to hear more about him from Sonic Masala in the next couple of months.

Ty Segall - Girlfriend
Ty Segall - My Sunshine

Ty Segall - SO ALONE from tab_ularasa on Vimeo.