Bee Thousand Twelve

To quote a renowned Tantric saint, "a year has passed since I broke my nose" (or something like that). I started fullkicks last December with a look back at 2011 and have enjoyed writing about rock n roll in 2012, an exciting year to be a fan of my kind of stuff. Rather than rehash in detail the fine music that inspired my gushings over the past 12 months (see brief best-of 2012 list below), I am going to talk about a record that totally rocked my recent days. 

The final entry into my mightily enjoyed '12 releases is a full blast confection:

"I hereby call to order this meeting of the
Loyal Order of Ass Kicking Rock n Rollers!"

The Audacity Mellow Cruiser 
(Burger Records - killer label)

Right off the hop, I gotta say this album sports the coolest cover in like for-fuckin-evs. If this image of a Party Viking surveying the vastness with a solitary fist in the air doesn’t hit you with a righteous call to get down, you are flatlining. This Grand PooBeer is preparing to plunder the washed heathens - heavied with herb, proverb & copious amounts of kickassitude!

From opening track “Indian Chief”, Mellow Cruisers is major league party punk, overstuffed with bratty pop hooks and shout-along choruses. The raw production, rousing performances and singer Kyle Gibson's Westerbergian howl recall early Replacements and the songwriting is consistently above the bar throughout. To deliver a full-length, legit all-killer/no-filler genre album is so difficult & thus rare. Think about your favourite records. Even some of your closest held, "desert island" LPs have a "One Good Dose of Thunder" that you learn to love like hot chicks learn to love Seth Rogen in silly movies. Not here, these Orange County kids, who once backed the studly King Tuff, keep the hits coming. “Punk Confusion”, “Subway Girl”, “Persecuted” and the ridiculously catchy & aptly named “Funspot" are all kicking tunes that would be highlights on anyone’s album. The songs that elevate Mellow Cruisers to superb are “Ears and Eyes” with its scruffy but precision tempo changes and “Chili" - where the band's key weapons cross streams and blast into a tumbling groove with snarling guitars and Gibson's gutting out his best lyrics: “founding fathers in their graves they're finding it hard to believe / In the United States of shock where you're turning off your clock / Removing constitution so we can have some fun tonight”. Mellow Cruisers is not merely a party record. It's a loud rock n roll record made by some California kids so the party is happening, but the prevailing lyrical themes are freedom and specifically what it means to be young and free in America. Can't wait to see where they go next. Set closer "Extensions" recalls the Mats' "Valentine" before fading out and riding off into the abyss. A triumphant journey concluded. I'll drink to that. Every damn time.

As for the year in review, while many sites/blogs present themselves as broad in scope - and somehow “indie” whatever that means anymore - here on fullkicks, we do not feign inclusion. Rather, we generally ignore the output of huggy “collectives” of lovey dovers with hand stitched shoes. I have nothing against that music, it just gets tons of blog snog & I prefer to rock out with the cock a little further out. These are the albums that loved how I loved them this year:

Full Point Kicks 2012
1. Guided by Voices Let's Go Eat The Factory / Class Clown Spots A UFO / Bears For Lunch
I reviewed the first two Guided By Voices releases, but its hard to keep up! Just a few words about Bears For Lunch. It's just may be the best of their 3 LPs in 2012, and that is no easy feat. Overall, the quality and quantity of material GBV put out this year was truly remarkable and they've blown through any idea of a typical career arc at this point. The unprecedented hit streak continued on Bears with classic opening thumper "King Arthur The Red". Poppy Pollard tunes like the chugging "Hangover Child" and "The Challenge Is Much More" aim to please and hit their marks. Two acoustic standouts are Tobe Sprout's Chris Bell-like "Waking Up The Stars" and Pollard's lovely throwback "You Can Fly Anything Right". The shiniest gem of all for me is lo-fi banger "Dome Rust". It's perfect. Really, these guys owned 2012. 
2. King Tuff King Tuff
3. Dinosaur Jr I Bet on Sky
4. Swearin' Swearin'
5. Tie Nude Beach II & Audacity Mellow Cruisers (see above!)

With honourable mentions to Torche, Mountain Goats, Gentleman Jesse, Hunx, Craig Finn, Divine Fits and Royal Headache all of whom put out great stuff in 2012.

And one last thing:

One night in Toronto in late 1993, I was fortunate to catch two power pop titans at pretty much the top of their games: The Lemonheads toured their crack (sorry) new album Come On Feel The Lemonheads with Redd Kross who were working Phaseshifter. It was a great show - Evan Dando had the best non-Juliana Hatfield LH lineup with Aussie collaborator Tom Morgan on bass, and Redd Kross just killed. Already veterans at the time, RK scorched through their set (I remember in particular “Monolith” standing out as a huge song, it's one I still catch a rise off of). Well in 2012, I reacquainted myself with both artists. The Lemonheads came to Toronto opening for The Psychedelic Furs. The show was billed to include once-going-concern Juliana H on bass & b/vocals and I was excited. Unfortunately, she bailed on the tour and the show was pretty dismal. But at the very least, they are apparently recording a new  record with Ryan Adams producing. Redd Kross put out their first album in 15 years called Researching The Blues which was pretty great and featured the truly stellar "Stay Away From Downtown", one of the 2 or 3 best songs of the year. Check it out immediately!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year kids!

Something Borrowed Something New

Somehow I have been only able to achieve a work-work-work/life imbalance in the month+ since my last post. It's been pretty rough. At my most demoralized, having deafened all sounding boards - seriously, your family & friends need you to fulfill your role and get the fuck over it - I, as always, leaned heavily on music for cope. In my few times of raw, broken-spoked emotional need, I have never sought miserable company. I have always been selfish enough to prefer my own anguish. Though I love Chris Bell and Elliott Smith, when I am low, I don't drop the needle on needle in the hay. Back when I got dumped by my first girlfriend, a former pal (though not former directly as a result of this recommendation, it would prove a harbinger) suggested I borrow Springsteen's Tunnel of Love. Besides the sorta stupid title, it's kinda sappy and unBoss. Thank God for Pleased to Meet Me.

To date in 2012, there have been a couple of titanic and a few really great records jumping up to be heard - the Dinosaurs and Tuffs and GBVs - that I've written about and the cinchy greatness of the Divine Fits debut rocked socks. But two records I loved this summer by virtually new bands have come back to front of playlist in my neediest recent hours. From the just can't shake them file, here are two 5* efforts that have soothed my pain like a gingerale rain:

Nude Beach II Finally, Brooklyn (home to the most per capita critically acclaimed musical artists in the world, a decent brewery, one mediocre basketball team and soon one shitty hockey team) has a full-custom, crackin power pop outfit - Nude Beach is kicking some funemployed ass! On their second LP, the virgin release from NYC indie record store/now label Outside Music, Nude Beach II, this power trio brings the heart-sleeved passion of late 70's rave-up bands like The Real Kids and The Nerves to a superb 12-song set. The songs are hooky, rowdy and pleasingly referential without being tribute night obvious. The band shakes like a looser, party-vibing Attractions. Crackling opener "Radio" sets the tone: a favourite t-shirt of tumbling drums and chiming guitars and Chuck Betz singing his heart out. Throughout II, Betz brings a well schooled and earnest vocal performance. Whether its the stand-out rocker "Some Kinda Love" where he really-really-means it like vintage Joel Plaskett or lonely boy lament "Loser In The Game" where he summons Clive Gregson from classic sad poppers Any Trouble, his voice is the winningest element in a superb set of songs. There is lots of stuff to like here for fans of the classics: "Cathedral Echoes" kicks out The Jam with hyper, giddy up Ted Leo style guitar strumming and propulsive drum fills, Tom Petty pops up on "Love Can't Wait" and standout  "Walking Down Your Street" deftly cops a feel off the real Boss's  "Sherry Darling". NB II touches some classic bases on its way around, but it's a legit homerun.

Swearin' Swearin' Another band created just for me. And another band while not exclusively based there, at least with time served in, Brooklyn. Where NBII fixes my need for the swooners & spooners of classic power pop, Swearin's proper debut LP patches hot into my deep love of vintage 90's American indie rock, caking superchunks of noise onto a kill the chorus pop template. These kids have won my ears' heart: the melodies are immediate and catchy and the band rares back and deals. Allison Crutchfield (bass, vocs) writes pissed off, hate-how-I-love-you love songs about the struggle to maintain a sense of self in a relationship. Speaking of the big R, her boyfriend Kyle Gilbride (guitar, vocs) takes vocal turns beside her and is all self-doubt and rocking out. It's a successful union so far. Gilbride's "Here to Hear" is a careening burner the Chapel Hill gang (small ball legends Archers of Loaf, aforementioned Superchunk) would surely sign off on with its insistent guitar chug and screeching stops and starts. Allison's anger turns to an almost convincing plea on the instantly memorable "Kenosha" where she likens her love to a tumor: "you’re damn near malignant, a dog tracking mud on the floor" and hammers home the protests too much chorus "I hope you like Kenosha so much you stay there". It's a great song and don't-let-the-door-hit-you declaration of independence, but really what are the chances he's gunna like Kenosha, Wisconsin so much he stays there?  It's not like he's off to Frisco for a couple of months. The point is that she wants to mean it and her heavy hearted attempts to convince herself well represent the young passion that permeates through the entire album. Other highlights include the effectively moody Breeders' turn "Fat Chance" where Allison reminds herself that "forever is a long time" and superb Weezer-esque "Movie Star" where she admits that "no one likes you when you’re as old as we are". Hold on a minute, Ms. Crutchfield, you guys are okay by me. And thanks for the support. 

__________________________________________________________

Bandcamp is awesome. You can get Swearin's debut EP there, download Gilbride's Big Soda 2011 demos for free, check out cool shit like this awesome Burger Records sampler and even grab this power pop classic for nothing. Enjoy!

Whatever Has Never Been Cooler With J

This has been a great week to be a Dinosaur Jr fan in Toronto. The terrible tripedal lizard of indie rock just finished a 3-night residency at Lee’s Palace opening their tour in support of their 3rd break-up sex LP I Bet On Sky released last week. Rule of 3’s, get it?! Though my ears are ringing from last night’s banging finale show, I am most motivated to write about this fantastic new record.

God must have hated sharing cover space
 with an article about the Butthole Surfers 

Clear of ear from his stellar solo acoustic album last year, I Bet On Sky finds guitar hero J Mascis's key weapon set on stun and maybe even tickle, and not dead shred. While his signature sound is incendiary (Almost Famous!), some my all-time favourite J guitar performances are the kind he could probably peel off while brushing his teeth. For a six string god (thanks, Spin Magazine see right) his might lies in the ability to elevate the emotion of his songs and reveal much more of himself through his hands than in his lyrics. J's not a man known to waste (or even use) words & has long been reluctant to discuss his lyrical content. An original slacker, as a rock n roll persona, J Mascis is the mumbled ‘I guess so’ to Noel Gallagher's needy ‘d’yaknow what i mean?’ & his reanimated band is the perfect vehicle.

Artist Travis Millard beautifully
captures the mind-blowing Dinosaur Jr 

Throughout much of the superb I Bet On Sky, J is (in the Heathers spirit) fucking us gently with a chainsaw. And it feels great. For a band not famous for subtlety (ears still ringing), the band’s palette has widened here to include medium overdrive. Captured again by long-time J collaborator/producer/engineer John Agnello, this is the most comfortable sounding recording of Dinosaur Jr’s career. There's a glowy burn to songs like "Stick A Toe In", with its chopsticking piano and pinky volume swells leading to a brief bright burst of a solo outro, and the hypnotic but uptempo "Don't Pretend You Didn't Know", with its guiding synths and piano flourishes. The familiar thunderbolt is thankfully not entirely absent from Sky: the awesome tumbling thud of brick hit-house drummer Murf and Barlow's heavy handed bass playing seizes aptly named "Pierce The Morning Rain" and giddy wah wah shuffler "I Know It Oh So Well", with its loose stops and starts and cowbell groove is terrific. Even Lou Barlow's drop D personality can't  harshen the buzz of Sky: his punky "Rude" sounds like a Bakesale-era Sebadoh song played with a better band (twin guitar solo!) and the melodic metal of "Recognition" is too nimbly and expertly played to be considered sludgy. This new age dinosaur has gone all omnivore on us. They’ve expanded the power trio format from full-stomp to full-service most impressively. The true showstopper of this new set is the superb "Watch The Corners". All of the key Dinosaur elements old & new are on display - the easy melody sneaks up on you while the band revs up - Murf's drums and Lou's bass becoming more insistent through each repetition, setting up an acoustic break and one of J's best moments on the album - a soaring, cathartic solo. It’s dramatic stuff and it sweeps my leg every time. And I can drink to that.

Hello Cleveland, It's Me - Your Boss

Miller Lite was never cooler - GBV live in Cleveland!

There is something very easy and very natural about Ohio. I have always enjoyed Cleveland as a weekend destination; it's a great place to drink a beer, enjoy a band, take in a game and of course, it has the very worthwhile Rock Hall. 

Songwriting is something that has always come very easily and very naturally to son of Dayton, Ohio, Robert Pollard. He also finds time to drink a beer, enjoy his band, take in a game and of course, he is very worthy of a place in the Rock Hall.

So its with perfect symmetry that I ventured down to the 216 to catch the invigorated Guided By Voices, Ohio's all-time indie rock champs!

A quick, pre-gig scan of Cleveland's Grog Shop made it clear to this newbie that it was a place built for the rock and the resulting roll. All of the vital elements for full volume enjoyment are there. The stage faces a long bar (which featured 4 dollar, 24-ounce PBR) and is flanked by a fanboy friendly beer trough on one side so you can re-up without missing a note or full kick of your favourite band. The interior is classic, just what the exhibits in the local hall of fame aim to recreate: walls in the main room lined with show posters & murals tracing the history of the venue and walls in the sketchy bathroom sporting graffiti and the requisite 1000-to-1, band stickers-to-paper towels ratio. This is a perfect venue for beer showers and slobbery sing-alongs. 

It really is an incredible thing. A band that exhausted itself (and finally gave up) trying to live up to its own legend almost a decade ago, GBV is about to put out its 3rd album in a calendar year (The Bears For Lunch due in November) and there is no reason to expect that it won't be great. Un_fucking_real. This creative erection has lasted well beyond the 'call your doctor' range. 

FULL KICKS!

Having experienced the initial reunion tour of 2010 and more than a dozen shows of the varying lineups back in the day, I was curious to hear and feel how this year's material fit into the setlist with the first run classic era songs. Unlike almost every show ever, there was no get-to-the-hits vibe in the crowd (or onstage) at all. And the quieter ditties like "Doughnut For A Snowman" and "Chocolate Boy" stood up strong in the set alongside the louder, more raucous songs like short rockers "Hang Up and Try Again" and "Roll Of The Dice, Kick In The Head". All in all the new songs benefited from the live energy and the sold out, pretty much home crowd drank it all in, up and down. The encores (3 sets of 4 songs) were stellar as well, as they included the metal pop gem "Matter Eater Lad" and my personal fave "Unleashed! The Large-Hearted Boy" among the more obvious GBV classics. The final song of the night was most fittingly "Smothered in Hugs". We all felt it. 

Blissed Out in the Hissed Out

Bruce recorded Nebraska on one of these.
Damn - should we blame him for indie rock AND
 Eddie and the Cruisers! 

Music reviewers of a certain age, especially those without girlfriends, have long professed their love of the low-fi “genre” of the mid-90s. Though the low-fi label was attached to many of that decade’s prominent indie rock bands - Guided By Voices, Sebadoh, Pavement, Superchunk, all of the Elephant 6 weirdos, etc – it was really not a genre of music, rather a shared mix of ambition and economic reality. In the do-it-yourself spirit, unfunded bands recorded and released material with available means. They put out hissy, muddy 7" singles, vinyl albums and cassettes that captured the energy and heartstrings of the songs (along with feedback, punch-ins, count-ins, chair squeaks, etc). To the average listener, it sounded amateurish (it was by definition) and made no sense to their radio-trained ears. To record geeks, it was blissfully different and challenging and interesting and obscure. It was inclusive, underdog art and we couldn't get enough. These bands were home-fidelity operations, they did everything themselves - the artwork, the mail-outs, the pre-blog whisper campaigns - it was small i industry. And when many of them scored major label record deals and then mostly subsequently lost those big companies a ton of money, it was a harbinger of the end of the ruling labels and their grip on who gets to make a career of playing music. 

Dean Wells of The Capstan Shafts
and loud springs (not The Cure)

Most of those artists are either gone or reunion touring or running highly successful labels that chug along smartly in the brave new digital world. Dean Wells still flies the lo-fi flag. He has been putting out clever & catchy & noisy (just how we like it) blasts of psych power pop for more than ten years under the name The Capstan Shafts. Predominantly a one-man band, Wells’ first-crack recording aesthetic and happily reckless performances splash sticky cola goo on his short, sharp, British invasion styled tunes. Think Morrissey fronting Converse-era GBV. Like Bob Pollard, Well’s has a lyrical gift that cloaks the emotional themes in his songs with wordplay. It allows you to write a ton of songs and not have people say just get over her already! Amidst the clang & clatter are stellar songs with stellarest names: "Chandelier of Bad Ideas”, “She Makes Amazing Look Stupid” and the perfect “Sleepcure Theory Advancer”  from 2006’s hit-machine full length “Eurodice Proudhun”, which features the typically great lyric 'you must have a lead coat over your angel’s wings'. 2007’s “Environ Maiden” and the following year’s “Fixation Protocols” were consistently high quality in terms of song craft and lovingly shambolic quality in terms of sound craft (“She’s Kick People”, “Low Ceilings for Bedhoppers”  , “Her Novel ‘Canal Zone Poetry’” , “Squeals of Resignation” ).

What with all of the chronology? We’re on our way to the now. On 2010’s “Revelation Skirts”, the Shafts took a swing for the fences, or at least the warning tracks with a full-band, mid-fi effort that came up a few feet short. It hit the highs – the shimmering REM jangle of “Your Wasted is a Talent Here”, the winning chorus of RBI single “Quiet Wars” and the line drive “Heart Your Eat Out” are standouts – but overall, Well’s songs seemed slightly misrepresented and lacked the exciting, too-loose-to-lose style. Free from the ramshackles that demand the listener dig with their ears for the fancy hook and the killer lines, it just kinda seemed ordinary.

In 2011, Dean took to DIY web-label bandcamp to release the 14-song / 23-minute “Kind Empires”. From the ringing guitar line of opener “Degenerate Era Sweetheart”, it is clearly a return to extraordinary form. The sweet chaos and pop rock rush of the earlier Capstan Shafts material races through the songs, and Dean’s tightened guitar work transforms him into a one man Superchunk on songs like the smokin’ “Like Theme from Art House Floozy”, “Come Wilder” and the terrific “She’s Kind Empires” with its inverted "Turning Japanese" opening riff. He no longer plays like a guy trying to get kicked out of his own band.

Lionel Richie could have
these on the ceiling.

This August, Dean brought the crazy back and its awesome! He went back to bandcamp under the name loud springs to release two new 4-song EPs: “wheels to ceiling” and “trinity blast suite” and just last week came the third – “mean forever”. Dean described the distinction between the two band names via email thusly: “(loud springs) is played live with a drummer, then I add bass and a vocal. Everything is miked. Nothing digital or direct, so it’s a bit different … and all the songs are about roller derby ladies”. So there you have it. His fun with language continues with great song titles like “out with the win for trying crowd” and “full contact reiki”. The sound is live & raw & high energy. He should have piped in some audience screams for full Kiss Alive effect, cuz it feels like a fun party. And its shots, not pints: the longest 12 songs is 2:06 and gems abound, especially “lip impressions”, “full contact reiki” and the tasty “wheels to ceiling”, a promise for one of the aforementioned roller derby babes - ‘I’ll get you wheels to ceiling someday’. Go to bandcamp to check it out and pay what you can to keep it. This guy is a prolific songwriter with a keen knack for pure melody and noise. And I can drink to that.

King of the Summer Twelve

In the hands of this motherfucker,
you are looking at two magic wands

King Tuff (aka Kyle Thomas) is a man of multiple talents- he fronts stoner slabbers Witch, pop dealers Happy Birthday and most excitingly, the bubbleglamming King Tuff. At the end of May, Sub Pop released the eponymous follow-up to 2008's debut LP "Was Dead" and it rules the school! Was Dead was a garage pop delight (highlighted by the terrific “Lady”) but where that album married the naïve pop of early period (yay - guitars!) Of Montreal with a cocky charm, “King Tuff” turns up the cock just a little bit and amplifies the hooks. 

Kick-off tune “Anthem”, is just that - a galloping, TRex-via-Teenage Fanclub (yup) gem to get the party started. From there, tuff-goes-taffy with pure pop, a hunxy vocal & transcendent harmonies on "Alone And Stoned". A prevailing loose, Free Energy-vibe suits these songs so well - from the cheeky handclaps on “Keep on Movin” to the wake & bake fuzzy synths of the dreamy “Unusual World” - and the melodies are relentless, craftily simple & y’know, kinda King-ly.

Wait guys, I didn't quite get it .. hold it HOLD IT...
GOT IT! CAPtured the very essence of rock n roll! WooHah

Garage rock is frequently too self conscious or just too fucking amateur to go full pop, but KT brings it all night long (for 40 minutes or so). The genre is also prone to lean on no-fi sound quality, but this recording is perfect: mid-fi & semi-bright, its nicely captured early-take energy throughout. 

All of the best elements of King Tuff perfectly storm on album centerpiece and totally kick ass song of the summer so far "Bad Thing" - chunky riff, sing along chorus, ringing Mick Jones fed lead guitar. This song, along with album closer “Hit and Run”, evokes the exultant punk pop of the mighty Exploding Hearts. 

Though this is a spirited effort and a cutoffs & beer koozie record all around, it's a pretty mellow party. Second side highlight “Evergreen” is a beautiful, dreamy song Christopher Owens (late of Girls) would kill for. KT’s songwriting is so strong, up there with Sonny Smith and Jay Reatard, that it almost seems effortless. But where Jay was obsessed with the kill, KT chills. And the chill guys always have more fun. I'll drink to that.

You Can Never Go Full Cheap Trick

As some of you near-dozens of loyal readers know, I have had my issues with Canada’s capital city, but have mostly been won over by the monstrously cool rock n' roll they are currently kicking out. One resentment lingers: they used their "freak weather" to try to kill Cheap Trick!

Silly rabbit, tricks are for runaways

There is a shady bar near me (and not shady in a romantic way – someone was killed there a couple of years ago by a stray bullet intended for the shooter’s brother) that features a tribute band every Saturday night. Over the last few weeks the  biggies have rolled in: U2, Bryan Adams (face putty!) & Shania Twain imitators. I am putting off checking it out until a worthy act rolls in – i.e. Bon Scott-era AC/DC or Thin Lizzy - and I am certainly not holding out any hope that one of my my absolute faves Cheap Trick will grace the plastic marquee any time soon. Yes, the real trixters toured through town with Aerosmith last month and remain pretty awesome, but in this economy the barroom imitation might be not only culturally fascinating, but also more fiscally rational. Although Cheap Chicks would likely be killer, CT may be one of the toughest famous bands to do dive bar justice in all of rock n roll.

Often imitated in their heyday and in the years to come, Cheap Trick had the ultimate trump card over all comers: an unparallelled lead singer (sorry, Enuff Z'nuff, The Knack, The Shazam, Sloan, etc). Due to Robin Zander’s force of nature vox, Rick Neilsen & crew’s showboat musicianship and pop hooks, Cheap Trick unlike many influential bands, were never beaten at their own game. Power pop never got as good as "Surrender", "Come On, Come On" & "Southern Girls". 

Now, yes you can say they were playing The Beatles game in the first place but you can say that about every fucking rock n roll band ever so don't say that. 

Despite their commercial pop legacy, the Cheap Trick of the first record had a nasty edge (their first single was about drug addiction/suicide! HERE WE ARE POP WORLD, IT’S ALL A CHEAP TRICK!) that became more playful and tongue in cheek as they aged and found a commercial sweetspot. That spot eventually leaned toward sickly sweet, but I digress. Their signature early sound, sharpened the old fashioned way - by playing a ton of gigs –  sounded like a really pissed off Raspberries, and their stage show, like Kiss, was way arena ready by the time they got to Budokan.

Damone was right: they are one of a kind.
I'll drink to that. 

Late 70's kids still wish they were Rick, Robin, Bun E. & Tom, it would appear. Adam Schlesinger from Fountains of Wayne tried to conjure the magic of Cheap Trick in a real band a couple of years ago called Tinted Windows. Despite the fact that he put together a firecracker squad - casting he-all-grows-up Taylor Hanson as Zander, a tasty riffer in James Iha of fellow Chicagoans Smashing Pumpkins for the role of inimitable Nielsen and even enlisting drummer Bun E. Carlos to appear as himself - it sorta fizzled and faded away. Though they may yet get together to record a follow-up,  it's okay to call Tinted Windows a one-off project at this point, as they have mostly maintained (all too many) measures of radio silence since the release of the self-titled debut in June 2009. The album was pretty great: full of catchy, rocking songs like the driving, leppard-spotted metal pop of "Get a Read on You", "Messing With My Head" and sparkling raison d'être "Kind of a Girl" and sprinkled just right with power ballads, led by "Dead Serious". But the ripple-less effect of this album cannot be understated - it didn't get a ton of promotion, they played few shows, they disappeared. Check it out, its cool and nobody takes a bullet slumming it for copy-rock!

I will close off this post with a nod to fellow Illinoise makers Off Broadway's classic album On. They were contemporaries of Cheap Trick and kicked out some gems like the full awesome "Full Moon Turn Your Head Around". Check it out!

This Clown is No Question, Bro

As the clock struck 2012, reunited indie champs Guided By Voices implored the world to go eat the factory and critics and fans happily obliged, resulting in glowing reviews and warm relief from hopeful loyalists. With the reunion deemed a success, the fact that they had another album already recorded sounded like fun, but seemed like a bit of a reach. A fair critical discussion of Bob Pollard's career in music must touch on the fact that self-editing is not his strongest suit. His solo work, though littered with quality buzzing pop tunes, epic rockers and tiny oddball dictaphone gems, is not always focused and can be a chore to navigate. 

To his credit, Bob clearly does not give a shit and is very content to put out the next batch of songs as they come to him, but for the GBV name, the goodwill earned by comeback LP #1 could slip if quality control measures were not effected.

And really, how could they top that swell "first" album a mere six months later and where would it ultimately sit in the band's Moby Dick sized catalogue?

Removing all such doubts, Class Clown Spots A UFO ultimately proves that Pollard & Co. are now a functioning unit. Not content to sit back and rest their scissor kickers, striped pants and livers for a few summer live dates, the band issued itself the challenge of making the (albeit smallish) world so soon again care about another batch of songs. And we do. We really do. Class Clown Spots a UFO leads with a haymaker and is expertly paced throughout with rafter-reaching anthems, short, sharp ballads & fewer than ever proggy smoke breaks.

Guided By Voices: Abusing lite beer for 2 solid decades

At this point, GBV is a lean, veteran indie rock machine and on CC delivers a perfect balance of joyous resilience and engaging quiet moments.

The exhilarating, Who-styled opener "He Rises! (Our Union Bellboy)" is the finest new classic-era song yet: rolling toms and a familiar Pollard minor chord chime give way to Mitch Mitchell's power chords setting-up a triumphant, roaring close. It's the game Pollard perfected with "Goldheart Mountaintop Queen Directory" and "Don't Stop Now" but really never better than here. The last minute of this killer kick-off track is brilliantly cocky - King Pollard walking down from the mountaintop firing melody bolts off with in every direction.

Next up, the band stomps through the power chorded "Blue Babbleships Bay" with Pollard in full Paul Rodgers mode (as heard on classic b-side "Break Even" & Propeller's "Weed King") followed by Tobin Sprout easing the pace with the hypnotic crawler "Forever Until It Breaks", a sentiment which seems to sum up this stage in the band's career - we are here til it don't work no more. 

Song 4 is the title track (their best title track ever?): an exuberant, 2 beers to the sky, straight-up powerpop killer. Originally entitled "Crocker's Favorite Song", a murkier, lo-fi version was recorded and shelved in the early 90s, fittingly appearing on the 3-record re-issue of the classic Bee Thousand a few years back. Pollard has done this a couple of times recently ("A Good Circuitry Soldier" was a suitcased demo brought to life in 2009 by his swell Boston Spaceships) and could presumably do this all day - sift through the sock drawer and pull out straight-to-the-encore ditties. The invigorated comeback spirit has tellingly transformed a sad song of uncertainty into an anthem of hope. Drum major Kevin Fennell leads the band and the sing along chorus lets us know "you never never can go down". Great stuff.

There really are no tracks to skip over. Tobin Sprout again proves the perfect foil to the colossal Pollard sound throughout CC. The drum machine and fake strings of "Starfire" cool out the jam along with the soothing jangle of the stellar "All of This Will Go". Tobe's melodicism is vastly understated, even within his own songs! If hooks were elastics, Tobe pulls long and holds steady while Pollard snaps you in the face and quickly pulls back and snaps you again. The two come together in the appropriately propulsive "Keep It In Motion"; a crackling synth-pop ditty with Tobe echoing Bob's lines. It works wonderfully which begs the question - why don't they sing together more?! It works! 

Comparing briefly CC to last season's Let's Go Eat the Factory, the rockers are catchier and more fun: "Hang Up and Try Again" is built for the live show - a snake and ladder stop and start riff topped with distorted vocals, "Roll of The Dice, Kick In The Head" is a 46-second Mersey beat gem followed by the superb "Billy Wire", a fiery melodic bruiser complete with bizarro parlor piano break/bridge and ah ah ahs over the fade out. Spot on. "Jon the Croc" is another of the louder highlights with Pollard refraining "let him cry like a crocodile around you now" over a full-on guitar grind and thunderous rhythm section. Not coincidentally, CC is overall a better produced record than LGETF - the time together has strengthened the band's sound and they've captured better takes. The guitars are cleaner and brighter and the snare drum lands every punch.

For all of the fun and diversity, an absolute star here is Bob's striking "Be Impeccable", a longish (almost 3 minutes!) and plaintive lo-fi guitar and vocal ballad where he sings "be what you are, be impeccable, the untrackable star / I'll shine my flashlight to where you are". What he has done is turn the flashlight on himself, on his band, on their lives. The honesty of age. Essentially this is the spirit that infuses these songs with life and is responsible for making this album such a success  - it is straightforward and honest. Themes of perseverance and hope run throughout CC in the lyrics and in the immediacy of the performances. These are familiar rock n roll themes and certainly not groundbreaking but good advice always sounds better from someone with experience. And rock n roll doesn’t get much better than this. I'll drink to that.

Summer Came Running

Too sexy to be a married band one minute longer 

Last week, I was swimming at the cottage with an unusual ease of breath for May when across the water-skied waves I could hear the recently called quits Handsome Furs' tune "All We Want, Baby, Is Everything" buzzing away on the dock. Dan Boeckner’s voice is an exquisite piece of rock n roll ass. He and his wife Alexei Perry were a transfixing duo I fell hard for a couple of years back during a hot July show at Lee’s Palace. It was all sweat and leather and cheap boombox drum smacks and that killer voice! It pac-mans a song and a room and you just feel it. The songs were great too, particularly on the first album, but many standout tunes fill their three LPs.

It's hard to argue with Dan's breakup timing (oh what a keen sense to own). Wolf Parade, as mighty as they are/were, announced last year that they were on an extended hiatus and it makes sense to me. Their music had gone from jaw drops to warm smiles to listen to and apparently to make as well. As an aside, this should be a more popular strategy for bands after 4 or so albums to avoid creative burnout, especially now that major labels don't call the shots and you likely haven’t signed yourself into eternal debt to get your records out. So, as much as I already miss HF’s next album, I will give Dan the benefit of the doubt that he has made a good choice in shelving great band #2.

Power trio formula: two guys are too cool,
drummer gets run-off

This past week came some Häagen Dazs for broken hearts in the form of awesome new band news – DB has teamed up with King Spooner Britt Daniels and drummer Sam Brown of New Bomb Turks to form a new band called Divine Fits and they have an album coming out this year on the mighty Merge Records. Wow. Sounds great. Along with label mates Arcade Fire, Britt’s Spoon are the grassy knoll trigger men firing final rock n roll mercy bullets at corporate labels. Once spurned by Elektra, aka home of The fucking Doors, Britt turned his career into a velvet vengeance flick, expanding the Spoon sound beyond the Pixies guitar grind of the early stuff to the now signature, horny-souled thump that has won them huge critical acclaim and a worldwide audience. Divine Fits pairs two dynamic and distinctive singers who share a knack for urgent melodies and sweaty rhythms. Each also has been known to blow up a pretty song midway and dramatically piece it back together. Very exciting news and I hope they can deliver on this considerable promise.

Radio City Drunkettes!

And in other piece-it-back-together news, Guided By Voices have another spinner coming next month from the classic era crew entitled “Class Clown Spots A UFO” (check out that link for free download of superb song of same name). This year has been a banner year for Team Pollard. A reanimated GBV chimed in the new year with a really good album that though it may have elicited a slight overgush because it was such a relief to sceptical fans, did their legacy proud. Looking back, there should have been little doubt they would pull it off. Bob’s solo work had gotten more consistent and the return of Tobe Sprout and his stored gems made it a lock. Now comes the ultimate reform challenge – put out a second good album! The fat Pixies won’t bother. The crazy Van Halen’s may kill DLR before he hammers another VH cheque. I haven’t kept abreast of The Spin Doctor’s plans, but my point is that it’s tough to maintain the initial surge of reform-tricity.  Break up sex is great - you feel you are right back where you belong and you never really liked that other chick/guy and you kinda miss your clothes smelling like this and she/he always has cold beer – but then you wake up to that stupid laugh and more talk about her/his mother and the cat stretches on your chest and you can’t get the fuck out of there fast enough. Old hang-ups re-up pretty quickly.

   As far as recent indie rock reduxes, Dinosaur Jr. may be the exception. They have a third break-up sex platter due in late August and the first two were stellar. We’ll see what Archers of Loaf and Afghan Whigs and others can muster, but I’m not holding out much hope beyond a brief tour or two. The early indications are that CCSAU is a killer party – check out the songs that are leaking around and I’ll review it in a couple of weeks. I can’t wait.  

Yacht Punk, Baby

This picture smells like a hit

I sought out some Harry Nilsson a couple of weeks ago after our FLA vacation. We were in a bar owned by a former member of Deep Purple (sounds cooler than it actually is but still, it had its charm). Though it didn't have Ian Gillan's bongos or Ritchie Blackmore's capes on display, it did have a framed copy of Nilsson Schmilsson on the wall. Knowing him only as a sorta weirdo soft rock drinking buddy of Lennon, I hadn't ever sought him out. But staring up at this bleary eyed, bed headed bum in a housecoat I couldn't help but be intrigued. It certainly lent the bar some needed mystique. The cover image is such a fuck you. I mean, can you imagine the fight at the record company? Ballsy. Even in pre-music video, pre-internet 1971 image mattered at least a little. I would stare at album covers for hours, read the liner notes and credits and thank yous and who used what drum sticks, cymbals, amplifiers & guitars. It was powerful imagery & all the visual support you had to accompany this magical sound in your headphones. In 1971, in an era of fantastical album cover art from psych to Warhol to full costume silliness, comes this doughboy staring bakedly off into space. And on an album absurdly titled to make fun of his name & growing myth. It’s a picture you would grab from your friend before they showed anyone. Dean Torrence, one half of Jan & Dean designed it, along with a few other album covers. As I read up on Harry later and listened to his music, it all came into place. This guy was an original who stubbornly went against type, a champion anti-hero to The Beatles who was able to operate under his rules and be just successful enough to get away with it. He was the abandoned son of a circus performer father and he never played a concert. Ever.


The man was a gifted & oddball artist, a talented arranger & masterful melodist, but the differentiator was his unbelievable voice. He had three octave range and layered his recordings with intricate & beautiful harmonies. Like other musical giants - Hendrix, The Byrds - he killed cover songs, owning Badfinger's "Without You" (which became a #1 hit for Harry) and almost besting the best on his cover of Sgt Pepper's "She's Leaving Home".  He also did an album of standards, and an awesome entire album of Randy Newman songs. Not exactly blessed with a commercial sweet tooth.

BFFs & definitely NOT
 Cold Turkeys 

The documentary Who Is Harry Nilsson (And Why Is EverybodyTalkin' About Him?)  is a must see for music fans. It tells the story of a shy dog food poor kid who used his immense musical gift to inspire, confound, even torture really, all of who came to love him. Like so many haunted men, despite his best efforts he turned into his father. Faced with the slow revealing of that harsh truth, he flipped the booze & drugs switch and torpedoed his career, his incredible voice and then ultimately himself. The movie features many of his friends and family's Nilsson reminiscences, including insights from friends Van Dyke Parks, Randy Newman, one of my favourite rock n roll singers ever, Mickey Dolenz and yes, Harry's wives. Check it out yourself or come over and we will watch it together with a bottle of cognac and an 8-ball.

A Gentleman starts his engine

I know what you're thinking. 
"Did he break six strings or only five?" 

Good news kids: the power pop raves on here with the long-awaited sophomore long player from Gentleman Jesse called Leaving Atlanta.

GJ is the comfort food of this genre. His 2008 debut Introducing Gentleman Jesse hit all of the classic notes of  the "Kids Are the Same" / "Get Happy" era recipe: black-and-blue hearted boy-girl tales served over generous portions of chiming guitars and pumping beats. Ably backed by His Men (who moonlight as the very mighty Barreracudas), Introducing GJ even managed to garner a good Pitchfork review, quite a feat and a curious departure from the tastemaker's practice of ignoring most power pop releases for more culturally relevant art (apologies to SB who does his part). For all of the good buzz of the first record, GJ fattens up the sound and themes on Leaving Atlanta and trumps his debut. Story is that GJ suffered some pretty brutal adversity in the years between the two releases, including being severely beaten up when he tried to help two strangers change a tire and the untimely deaths of more than one close friend. Although the title suggests flight, our man chooses to roll up his sleeves and fight. Throughout the new album he brawls and bawls with his city, his girl and ultimately himself. In the frenetic opener "Eat Me Alive", he claims "this city's trying to eat me alive". And like any volatile love affair, the power dynamic shifts. Side One runs the gamut from good riddance on "I’m Only Lonely" ‘when I’m around you’; to can I come over groveling on "Take it Easy on Me"; to bewilderment on "What Did I Do?" Songs like these are rehearsed exchanges, the mirror fights we will ourselves to win and also the sad truths we face only in the dark. Musically, compared to the Intro GJ album, the songs here are a little more diverse and the instrumentation a little more varied. The subtle changes help to flesh out the songs but don’t flush out what GJ does best –  rave up some insistent, heavy hooked melodies from needle drop to needle pop.

Leaving Atlanta is jammed with gems. GJ plays tough on she’s-so-cold jangle rockers “Frostbite” & “Shivers”. To glorious results, GJ tightens his skinny tie & reaches back to the masters on “Careful What You Wish For”,  beautifully nicking The Beatles’ “It Wont Be Long Now” and “Rooting for the Underdog” reinterprets Little Richard’s “Ready Ready Teddy”. GJ admits defeat on album closer “We Got to Get Out of Here” repeats the chorus over and over, almost trying to convince himself to pack up and go. The cover shows him on the city limits seemingly on his way out of dodge. But his guitar is unpacked and he’s not exactly thumbing a cab. Rather, he seems uncommitted, like he’s camping out on the outskirts, waiting for someone to talk him out of taking off. With this new record, he should be carried home on shoulders.

Other great new stuff: 

From Hotlanta to Hottawa, Mothers Children keeps the good power popping with new single "See the Other Guy" grab it from bandcamp.

Mean Jeans has a new album out called On Mars, check out the awesome single “Anybody Out There?” 

I Ain’t Gunna Work on Maggie’s Perm No More

Let’s talk gay stuff. Its cool, cuz it’s totally mainstream now and even the president has a favourite top.

Yes, I got a pink comb when I ordered
this album. No, you cannot have it.

Hunx "Hairdresser Blues"

In the wake of the new century breakthroughs of The White Stripes, The Strokes and The Hives and nobody else any good, garage rock has slithered back underground while the indie rock bic lighter has shone on Wilco and Radiohead, 80s dance punk, acoustics in the woods and, somehow, still Wilco and Radiohead. The notable exception being a few years back when Pitchfork and Matador huffed and puffed and blew Jay Reatard’s Flying V down hipster throats. Jay did stupid stuff which got him attention - like punching people in the face (I was there, it was kinda dangerous & pretty rock n roll, actually) and doing too much coke, which ultimately killed him – but he was a gifted songwriter and his exciting music was still evolving when he died much too young. Jay also pimped new artists he liked and took young bands out on tour.

Recent deserter from Camp Rock n Roll 

One such band was Hunx & His Punx.

Led by Oakland hairdo-er Seth Bogart’s, H&HP have been pumpsing out some high grade, silly-but-banging garage pop since 2008. 2010’s stellar Gay Singles collected the early 7”s (double entendres abound, sorry) including gems like "Good Kisser", power pop stunner "I Won't Get Under You", early Stones nod "You Better Tell That Girl" and one of my fave singalong songs of the last couple of years “You Don’t Like Rock n Roll” with rad line “you like Morrissey, you like U2 / what the fuck is wrong with you?”. Pay-back for “Hairdresser on Fire”, no doubt. Last year’s Too Young to Be in Love wasn't quite as immediate as the early singles but was a solid full length effort featuring the swell pick up plea "Lovers Lane". 

The just-released Hairdresser Blues signals an unexpected gear change for Seth as the mood turns serious and the lovin and losin feel suddenly very real. For this personal album he’s punked the Punx and plays all instruments but the drums. And while the gum is still fresh on the melodies, the party has turned all dead man’s curve - Bogart brings honesty to this set of songs and yanks his name back from the edge of novelty. This is a significantly risky and ultimately necessary step for Bogart to take to “legitimize” his career rather than re-tell the joke. And it works .. er worx.

Make no mistake though; Hairdresser Blues doesn’t strip out any of the core appeal of Hunx’s music. It is a wonderfully catchy, shaggy shangrila-di-da of an album and it romps and rolls from start to finish. Bogart’s songwriting is sharpening and his musical scope is diversifying. HB would seem to start hopefully enough with “Your Love is Here to Stay”, but said love turns out to be more of a sentence than a blessing. There are not only shades of blues in Hunx’s manic panic pop: the Phil Spector/Jesus and Mary Chain lovechild “Private Room” is about man caves (not beer commercial man caves either), but it’s a straight up gem that will have you singing “I wanna get a private roo-oo-oo-woo-woo-woom” to your mate for the foredoable future.

Other highlights include the insistent Aussie-style popper “Let Me In”, the title track on which Hunx brings the drama with a garage rock update of Beauty School Drop Out & the glam candy ode to yesteryear “Do You Remember Being a Roller” where he croons “everything must change / I guess I just miss the old days”. The show–stopper is “Say Goodbye Before You Leave”, a teary eyed note to his late friend Jay: “I wanna run my fingers through your curls / and we could talk about gurr-hurls / or write a new song together” It’s a personal statement from an over the top personality and just the type of stuff his mentor was tapping into before his untimely death. With this burgeoning confidence, the joke is over and a career is born, one that Hairdresser Blues proves has potential to be a long & (yes) fruitful one. And I’ll drink to that, every time.

______________________________________________________

Thanks for the killer riffs Ronnie,
I forgive you for introducing
us to Sammy Hagar 

Also – I want to tip a cap to Ronnie Montrose, who passed away recently. He was an influential guitar player and band leader responsible for one of my absolute favourite heavy rock records ever. Here is a good piece from CNN with Sammy Hagar talking about his former bandmate and the impact he had on what became the golden era of 80s metal. And, even better, here is a great clip of the original Montrose performing their classic “Bad Motor Scooter” from the first album. RIP, RM.