Good Famine/Bad Gentlemen

Before Melbourne leather-clad degenerates Gentlemen bring out their new album, I thought I would delve back into their last two short-form releases, and carefully peel back the diseased canvas to show you what writhes and pulses beneath. The first 7" is 終焉 on Tokyo label Episode Sounds, which delves much deeper into their hardcore roots with 'Good Omen/Bad Husband' before hitting a spewing, mewling punk squall on 'Dead Hand' and 'WD2F' melts it into one insoluble mess.



Then there is Pro Famine, out through Ken Rock. 'Gaunt Boys' is the Gentlemen I know and love - sub three minutes of hateful vitriol, staring into the abyss with dead eyes - the Bird Blobs connection is well and clear. Australia knows how to mewl and gnash teeth in the dark, covered in shit and piss, and love it. No objections from me.

Eat Up The Sex Scheme

Sado-masochism is a real turn-on for dirt-scuzzbags that like their rock disintegrating and dire, isn’t it? From Gentlemen and Occults right back to Big Black... Look I can’t say I'm upset, or even surprised. But it can be a bit of a tired trope to gussy your downer punk grinds with. Sex Scheme are no different. The Brooklyn killers have gone the black and white, hogtied and bootheel cover art. And it gives a strong indication of what to expect here. ‘Dog Slut’ is a sub-two minute blur, neither here nor there; but the off-the-wall awfulness of ‘Eat It’ is actually much more effective, with the drawled lyrics of the insane Ben (not far removed from Bird Blobs vocally, although I must say I much preferred those guys) and the rusted guitar whines are held down by a no-nonsense bass chug and heartbeat drum that, whilst played thousands of times before, keep the shit from flowing down the sewer too soon. The harmonica sounds out over ‘Feel Me’ and the drug-fuelled slurs once more feel at home with the dirty recordings and the aluminium-trash can drums at play here. The lysergic nature of the narcotic drag comes full circle on ‘Mexico City’, barely staying upright on its two varicose-veined stumps, flailing broken glass and spitting broken teeth with barely-contained self-knowledge. And that is Sex Scheme (and most of their ilk) to a tee – there is no rhyme and reason, its just the black tar coming from way down and ripped out and flung on the sweat-stained walls. And just like sado-masochism, it’s an acquired taste. Try this at home at your diseased peril.

Buy the Sex Scheme 7" here.

Gentlemen Prefer Sex Tapes

(Photo by Glen Schenau)

Boy oh boy. I feel aggrieved, embarrassed, dirty and fucking excited whenever I put on Sex Tape, the record that Melbourne miscreants Gentlemen put out through Homeless Records. I've only had it since Sunday - it's just about sold out (there were two copies left at Collectors Corner in the Melbourne CBD, not sure if there are many more). Its the sort of atonal noise rock that the term pigfuck was invented for. Sure, there isn't inherent melodicism being skewered or insanely tight engine room in the muck and the mire here, but there is plenty of abrasive yowls, riffs, smashed drums and stalker-with-dead-eyes basslines here to give a corpse an erection. Matt Korvette over at Yellow Green Red took umbrage to the BDSM imagery the band take on with the cover art - and I get his point - but this is the kind of noise that is destined to dwell in the seventh level of Satan's bowel (and what his band Pissed Jeans are basically known to do). 'Military Style Massage' - now if you are resistant to that bludgeoning, we ain't friends, pure and simple. And to be honest there are some serious Melbourne bands that are fist deep in this corrosive sound - personally, I think it's brilliant. Listen to 'Perry' and bring on the pig.

Video Vacuum - Angel Olsen, Tropical Strength, Gentlemen, The Entrance Band

Final week of work for the year; Australia wins the first Ashes Test - it's a pretty good place to be for me right now. I still have a mountain of work to get through though, and hence the procrastination. So - let's have at the vids!



Angel Olsen is a beguiling chanteuse. Firstly due to her musical endeavours up til now have involved skeletal, atmospheric, cavernous folk, all shadows, smoke and mirrors. Secondly because the first cut from her upcoming album is the complete opposite of that. 'Forgiven/Forgotten' is two minutes of chugging rock, Olsen's vocals strong and bold, the video a frenetic edit of car window views. It's not a total backflip - the 'Sweet Dreams' single from earlier this year was a haunting number with a more prevalent guitar, but Olsen is more operatic there - it feels particular and staged. It's light years away. It's bizarre, because I love Olsen's old stuff (especially her album on Bathetic Records, Half Way Home) - and yet I love this track. Guess I just love Angel Olsen. The new album Burn Your Fire For No Witness will be out early next year on Jagjaguwar and Dead Oceans - can't wait.



Here's some Aussie dudes making a lysergic number with birds chirping in the background, a mega-slowed down video of a guy falling into a wake pool by the sea and ink dispelling into water. It reminds me a bit of Snowman at their lightest at the beginning, then becomes spun out wasteland of nude swimming and barbecues. Tropical Strength is their name (you know, after the insect repellent?) and 'Wake In Fright' is the song's name (you know, like the gritty outback existential nightmare novel written by Kenneth Cook, or the film directed by a young Bruce Beresford?). It's all weird - and fucking amazing. I really need to see this band, stat.



London band Gentlemen aren't usually my kind of band. 'Late Nacht' is an OK song too, don't get me wrong. But it's this film clip that gets me listening to the song over and over. The screaming and feverish drumming? Then the slip into a hypercoloured set of landscapes? It's pretty genius in my opinion. Bashing skin as catharsis. True that.


Spider from Paz Lenchantin on Vimeo.

Now I'm probably being blasphemous here, but I knew very little about Los Angeles' The Entrance Band before I saw this clip for 'Spider' - and I still know very little. All I know is that this song is a pretty good slice spaced-out and decadent garage pop, and the film clip - all arthouse surrealist noir, arachnid nightmares, Bunuel masturbation - is even better. I'm keen to check out their new album Face The Sun, if that's any consolation.

NOW GET BACK TO WORK!