2014 songs - Like a soft pillow on hard pavement

 Sing along songs in hot soft light

Standing in the crowd for most of The Hold Steady’s four-night, killer-party-in-residence earlier this month in Toronto, I broke on through to the other side. Right there on my two square feet of crushed beer cans and confetti at The Legendary Horseshoe Tavern, I had a moment of profound clarity ... or maybe a few. It was bound to happen really. Three consecutive evenings immersed in fully-amplified, stony and adorable moments can have an effect on you. And specifically what became crystal clear again and again over the course of these shows, is the fact that rock n' roll has an undeniable and unpriable grip on my soul.

The first three nights were album shows in chronological order: Almost Killed Me, Separation Sunday and Boys and Girls in America. Although the album show format seems sorta tired at this point, The Hold Steady have the luxury of being a band with diehard fans (kind sorts on the whole, built like dented tallboy cans and sporting college-try beards) and multiple, fantastic albums. And they nailed it. As a long-term fan, it was a treat to hear some album cuts that don't always make the tour date setlist like "Same Kooks" and "Banging Camp". And the band just plays with so much joy. It took a couple of years for them to redefine THS sound and live act following the departure of charismatic mustachioed keyboard man Franz Nicolay, but in these Toronto shows, the considerable contributions of second guitar player Steve Selvidge stood out. Together with band leader/axe man Tad Kubler they teamed to bring a dual-guitar, Thin Lizzy-style attack to the catalogue of riff rockers and added tasteful flourishes to flesh out the power ballads. Their interplay is a compelling newer element that bodes well for the band's future. 

The finale show on Saturday was, in effect, a THS greatest hits tape and proved to be the most fun night of all. In fact, this was one of my favourite concerts ever - up there with all of my heroes. After much pre-show speculation, Craig Finn announced right off of the top that the band was "going to play whatever the fuck we want" and it was damn near perfect. Kicking off with fan fave B-side "Ask Her For Adderal", the band sprinkled in Stay Positive (fourth album) highlights like "Joke About Jamaica", "Magazines" and my personal favourite "Slapped Actress" among its signature all-timer anthems like "Chips Ahoy" and "Stuck Between Stations". It was high octane from start to finish and a particularly emphatic way to close out the smash run.

And in the days following, the continuous thunder of barre chords echoed in my ears - well-outlasting the cumulative effects of my well-earned hangover - my spirit infused with that sound. With it, what resonated deeply with me following those massive nights was the notion of intimacy. Not “Intimacy” as a modern term men and women toss around to complain about their partner not sharing/cuddling/giving a fuck about them, but rather simply being close enough to something to feel exclusive connection, almost possession – like this one thing was made for you at this very moment. So a very sincere thank you to The Hold Steady for making me this terrific sound and bringing it to my town for an extended stay.

If you truly love music, you have spent so much time – especially back in the days of conscious music consumption – with your favourite records, attaching meaning and emotions to their songs and words and ultimately stitching a quilt of soundtracked memories that spans your lifetime. And even today, I would argue that, whether it’s a song in your running playlist or the soundtrack for folding tonight’s laundry, once it is in your head that song is part of your life. You have a one-on-one relationship…okay so maybe I can’t escape it: the intimate connection is akin to a classic love story...suffice to say, I have had some intimate musical relationships and I discreetly want to share some words on a few of the hottest asses I tapped in 2014 right here:

Joyce Manor Never Hungover Again

Can I hold you to that? 

Song-for-song killer stuff, a gang-tackle of a record that stands up arrow straight and all tucked in next to the landmark albums of the pop punk genre's heavyweights. 

On kickoff track "Christmas Card", singer Barry Johnson laments past kinda love with fire-snuffing, sad-hooked line "looking at your face in the dark/you don't even look that smart/could never make it past that part". From there, the band proceeds to plow through this entire pack of gum in just 20 minutes! The crushingly sappy hooks never back off and the we-mean-it-man melodrama never lifts. I kept coming back for more all year long. I mean c'mon man, it's even got a monster wave of swoon called “End of The Summer”! And bummer lost love stuff like "Victoria" with its "you got me hanging on again" refrain. The massive "Schley" is the pièce de résistance here. Less-loud/really-loud dynamics, tricky invasive rinky dink guitar hook. "How can you be happy when you wear all black?" Just smoking great. Fave song of the year. Also check out 65-second emo buzz clip "Catalina Fight Song" and classy album closer "Heated Swimming Pool", a loving nod to The Smiths with its Johnny Marr-lite guitar work and lyrics Morrissey himself would have been proud to put his quilled pen to: "I wish you would have died in high school so you could be somebody's idol". 

Of course we will be hungover again. The album’s title is a silly pronouncement, made in pain and said in haste. It’s like saying you are never going to fall in love again. And in dropping this 10-song string of petals, Joyce Manor celebrates the fact that love lessons are hard-learned like drinking lessons and that even though we come to know better, thankfully, we are predisposed to think that one more shot is a pretty good idea.

Single Mothers Negative Qualities

how do they tell the jets from the sharks?

The band Single Mothers is from London. Yup, Ontario. The 519, or 226 I suppose. And their aptly titled debut full length was a nasty thorn in my side for much of the year. This 26-minute set of songs burrows into you. They aren't immediately catchy but after a couple of listens you're caught. The story has been told a few times by now: SM put out an EP and 7" single of careening bad trip punk rock a few years ago and broke up. Singer Drew Thomson left town and some bad habits to dig for gold in Hells Half Acre, Ontario (or something like that) but just couldn't suppress his need to vent his spleen in dive bars for peanuts. The band reformed and has delivered on the promise of those earlier efforts with a stomping, fucking brilliantly good bad time of a record. Thomson's lyrics rightly get a lot of press attention - the man can spew an insightful self-loathing rant - but what can't be understated is the kickassitude of this band. The production and mix lets the songs and the vocal "performance" shine. The bass is loud and thundering and the guitar riffs are fat and powerful with a tinge of Jesus Lizard's sinewy throb. Negative Qualities smokes. Highlights include the headbutt-to-the-coffee-table "Marbles", in which Thomson readily admits "I'm a hypocrite, and I'm okay with it / I'm so self-aware, that it's crippling" and the groovy "Half-Lit", from which the title of this post was borrowed.

Thomson's lyrics and delivery are often compared to Craig Finn of the aforementioned and lavishly praised THS, but Drew brings you a little closer - and sometimes too close - to the action. Although they share an ability to pump humour and humanity into a seedy world of pills and pass-outs, Finn's early THS (and even Lifter Puller stuff) centred around fascinating recurring characters and drugs and religion, whereas Thomson writes from the inside - he is the only recurring character and the drugs and blackouts and empty life of feeling like a lowly 'townie' are all him. The Hold Steady and Single Mothers are at the same party, it's fun and it's loud and it's pretty dangerous. There are some interesting fuck ups there; over- and under-educated people bouncing off the walls fueled by cocktails of varying severity. Craig Finn just picked up his busted glasses off of the floor. Drew Thompson is fumbling for a tooth. Love the shit outta this album. 

The Jeanies S/T

Sorry guys, this is as tough as we can

hope to look with this band name

This Brooklyn power pop foursome throws haymakers from the opening bell on their debut full length. Check out stellar opening track "I Seen Her Dance", an old school smiley rocker that sets the pace for this winning debut. The Jeanies bring the sweet noise with standouts like "Believe Me Jenny", which features a beautiful walk-down chorus, boogie popper "The Girl's Gonna Go" and kick ass album closer "Gotta Get Back to Judy" with its 'ba-da-ba-bas' ringing out. Dwight Twilley, The Plimsouls, The Romantics ... all well represented here in respectful amounts.

A marvel. And yet, sadly not many will hear this record. Clearly, power pop doesn't get enough respect! The Beatles created this genre - along with most others of pop music - and the best fab four songs are their power pop songs. This is irrefutable. Hooks like The Jeanies are dropping all over the verses and choruses of the songs here are sick. Just timeless, pop goodness. It deserves to be heard by more than just lifers like me and record geeks in Grade 8 class portrait sweaters. Buy it, love it. I did and do.

Double-barreled action in the 

power pop bullpen 

Mother's Children Lemon

Superb full length from Ottawa’s finest power pop tarts. Starts with a revving motorcycle engine and Johnny Thunders lick and kicks into high gear from there. Catchy bubblegum pop that stings even deeper than their previous two stellar efforts. These MC guys have honed their sound and are at the top of their game here. Highlights include oxidized gems "Not Fair" and “Out of the Dark”, both of which would have been great 80s movie cruising songs. Album closer “Nobody’s Business” is the pinnacle here: a killer guitar riff with stops and starts leading into a chorus of exploding sweethearts…and then the motorcycle speeds away. I’ll drink to that. Every damn time.

Other stuff I dug a tonne:

Chumped Teenage Retirement
Superb pillow-punching punk.
Hector's Pets Pet-O-Feelia
Good time garage pop, "Teenacher" is a great tune.
King Tuff - Black Moon Spell
3rd great album in a row. This guy's a sure thing.

A Year to Your Ear

OK, so I am back. And while I return from an extended break from writing about music, I have certainly continued to listen to way too much of it, so let's get right real, right now - lame movie device real. In the romantic comedy we just can't seem to live, the surest of surefire way to rekindle flickering love is to reenact the first meeting. So Full Kicks will now reintroduce itself the very way we did the first dance two years ago - with a year end post!

At least you know they love their label.

Some of my favourite artists added to stellar catalogues in 2013. Superchunk declared I Hate Music, which proved to be, while a slight tug on the reigns from 2010's perfectly named Majesty Shredding, an affecting, personal batch of songs that called for repeat visits. Album heart n' souler "Me & You & Jackie Mittoo" lets us in on why a band formed almost 25 years ago (and whose founding members include the cool parents of American indie rock) would claim to hate music. The song reminisces about a lost friend and lost youth in a brief (and fittingly rocking) way, while asking the same desperate, impossible question of music that we always ask of love: hey you - omnipotent and magical force that brought us together - if you cannot save us then what is the use? Music plays the role of a cruel angel, inextricably linked to people who we will never see again and people we will never be again. It's painful to face. The rest of the album scatters leaves of memories on a bedrock of trademark snarling guitars and balls out drumming from Jon Wurster. The music/love theme plays out for good on the best song in the set - the sad hook heavy "Low F" where singer Mac McCaughan asks for a little help picking himself up over a meandering guitar lead that gradually gets him to his feet. He finally musters the nerve to ask if "love" is "what will keep us upright?" I Hate Music sees a veteran band who have a history of seeking catharsis in its songs, bucking up and asking the right questions. Here on their 10th album, Superchunk is far past the point of dealing with the drama of youngish adulthood challenges like unrequited love and failed relationships in their music and rather now boldly face the death of someone very close with signature honesty and yeah, some great fucking songs! I'll drink to that, every damn time.

A true Scientist has glasses at the ready

It can be a challenge even for diehards (and bandmates) to keep up with Robert Pollard and Guided By Voices in a given twelve month period. Yes, there was a 2013 release from GBV and for the record, English Little League was a solid album and featured some great songs like "Flunky Minnows" and "Xeno Pariah" and the finest Tobin Sprout song in over a decade and a half called "Islands (She Talks In Rainbows)" - but what really stood out above the crowd and above expectations were Pollard's solo releases: July's Honey Locust Honky Tonk and December's Blazing Gentlemen.

Of the two, Honey Locust Honky Tonk is the more consistent from a song writing perspective, but that is no slight on Blazing Gentlemen, as HLHT is Pollard's strongest start-to-finish set in years. The songs are fully realized which seems fully ridiculous as the man averages three or four albums a year. The standouts include the poppy "Who Buries The Undertaker?", the brilliant, sweeping drama of "Her Eyes Play Tricks On The Camera" and Pollard as roots-rock crooner "I Killed A Man Who Looks Like You".

Blazing Gentlemen is, by contrast, a rocker. Again with long-time collaborator/bench coach/multi-instrumented Todd Tobias at his side, Pollard eschews the mature, layered sound that worked so well just months before and cranks out some louder, hotter fare. And it fares so well! Especially sweet in the heat are the banging, classic rock steady "Return Of The Drums", the effervescent and micro-chorused "Tonight's The Rodeo" and my favourite one minute and 5 second experience of the year - "This Place Has Everything".

Diarrhea Planet I’m Rich Beyond Your Wildest Dreams

DP's expertly crafted sophomore LP is bookended with epic finales. Kickoff formation on “Lite Dream” is a series of heaves and slams that would cream the spandex of any legitimate arena metal encore crowd. The outro proves a fitting intro to a terrific rock n’ roll experience. By the time the smoking outro of 

“Emmett’s Vision”  lifts, your ears will be grateful for the ringing. To be clear, this six-man tag team from Nashville with the sorta stupid name doesn’t just repeatedly hit you with finishing moves - there’s gold in them hills of shred. These guys are well-strung (four guitars!) and yes, their music often reaches gloriously for anthemic Andrew WK-style moments, but there is adept songwriting here as well.

In between the cacophonous finales, DP’s musicianship shines throughout I'm Rich Beyond Your Wildest Dreams: from the mini-juggernaut “Separations”, which somehow packs a chugging verse and bursting-at-the-seams chorus along with a tasteful dash of space-case noodlery all into 2 minutes and 17 seconds; to the glorious 'Bringin’ On The Heartbreak'-flavoured twin guitar soar-os of “Kids” ; to the expertly swirling, melodic Polvo-style interplay of “The Sound Of My Ceiling Fan” , these guys make a frequently beautiful racket that demands repeat listens. Full Kicks all around!

Other stuff I loved this year:

Audacity Butter Knife

Fullerton, California’s stellar garage brats had a difficult task in delivering a follow-up LP that could hang with their superb 2012 release, Mellow Gold. However, any doubts they could rise to the challenge are quickly erased 20 seconds into “Couldn’t Hold A Candle”, Butter Knife’s crack opener, as the snare drum rolls into a chugging verse and we are off to the races. And the fun never stops - the kids bring the insistent melodies and good natured snarl that marked its earlier material to burners like “Hole In The Sky” but also manage to competently expand their arsenal, throwing a pair of sweet change-ups to close. “Dancing Under Soft Light” is maybe their most confident song to date. It’s reminiscent of those buzzy glow, mid-tempo Replacements’ songs from the late 80s that could have been huge if they played ball. Album closer “Autumn” is an early Flaming Lips-flavoured piano warbler that finishes with a tasteful power pop outro. It provides a nudge toward what this fine band can grow to become and a nice surprise from a band that didn’t owe one. Full Kicks indeed - streak intact!

Pink Wine PinkWine 

Finally, a local band that lovingly marries the sound of the Sex Pistols and The Rubinoos! The debut LP from Pink Wine features 12 sick-catchy, snot rockets that punch in and out in less than 30 minutes. Singer Joel French shifts easily between playful – “I like pink wine/there’s just no denying/I like the taste/the way it always numbs my face”- and cutting “how could you be blue?/when being on your back is so fun for you?” And while French’s concerns swing between drinking in the park and dealing with rancid relationships, the band is killing it - the double-barbed hooks here are relentless and good fun.

Happy New Year,

STQ 

Ask Not For Whom The Bell Bottoms Toll

Everyone has at least one favourite classic rock band. Some people even like The Doors. Though its hard to know exactly what qualifies as classic 21 years since Nevermind, let's be clear - end of 60s to late 70s is classic rock. And the vibe of this vintage has never really gone away. Sure in 1977, The Sex Pistols stuck a dagger in Emerson, Lake and Palmer (stay tuned), but that year was ripe for change - Zeppelin was burned out and struggling with family crises, the mid-70s Stones were hating each other, releasing lame solo albums and getting busted and The Who were two years since an album of I-drink-too-much-and-don’t-know-my-kids songs - the party was not exactly raging. As with all successful coups, the success or more accurately the impact of The Ramones, Pistols, Clash et al was in large part due to good timing. Punk rock/new wave flailed away at a lame beast and we are all enduringly thankful. But for all of the bluster and screech, that old time rock n' roll persevered. The Stones re-emerged in 1978 to reclaim their title of World's greatest with the killer Some Girls. Though the tragic losses of their irreplaceable drummers over the next couple of years pretty much vanquished The Who and Zeppelin, Queen and the emergence of AC/DC and Van Halen kept cocks rocking worldwide for years post-revolution rock. As it usually does, it makes more sense looking back. Punk rock grew from the same bastard roots as stadium rock: David Johansen was playing a drag queen Jerry Lee Jagger singing Bo Diddley songs. But it was a passionate fight at the time, ratcheted up by the evil presence of disco, of course...or was it? Did audiences really choose sides? 

Check out Rolling Stone magazine's critics top choices for "Album of The Year" in 1977:

• Never Mind The Bollocks - Sex Pistols
• Hotel California - Eagles
• Rumours - Fleetwood Mac
• My Aim Is True - Elvis Costello
• Hard Again - Muddy Waters



Sadly, since this shirt, fashion
rarely strikes a chord with me 

• JT - James Taylor

Some monster titles there, or what? Johnny Rotten vs Stevie Nicks. And what did RS readers choose for Top Album? You guessed it - FLEETWOOD MAC! Ugh. Now, as I learned from stealing rock mags from the library in Grade 6, Creem Magazine had eclipsed RS as a cutting edge tastemaker as punk rock, new wave and later hair metal hit. I remember first educating myself about Van Halen and Iggy Pop in the pages of Boy Howdy. So, let's check out Creem's "cool" reader list for this huge year in rock n' roll history when the kids broke bad:

CREEM MAGAZINE 1977 READER POLL RESULTS

Top Albums

1. Fleetwood Mac- Rumours

2. Rolling Stones- Love You Live

3. Ted Nugent- Cat Scratch Fever

4. Kiss- Love Gun

5. Yes- Going For The One

6. Kiss- Alive II

7. Heart- Little Queen

8. Foghat- Live

9. Emerson, Lake & Palmer- Works, Vol. 1

10. Foreigner

HA HA HA! I won't name all of the others on the list but I will add that the utterly-forgotten Styx and the reprehensible Steve Miller made the fans' top 20. Yup, still dazed and still confused in 1977 (for reals, two fucking Kiss albums?!).

Go ahead, try to hate Foxygen

All this is to say that classic rock has survived. And that it must survive because we hear it now with an educated (perhaps the loosest interpretation of education, but bear with me) ear; keenly aware
of not just punk rock and disco but also of the new waves, hip hop, dance, (gulp) electronica, rap metal, (chest ... seizes ...) The Spin Doctors, etc and suddenly the Allmans and Doobies sound pretty fucking alright.
Like James Bond movies and the missionary position, we keep coming back to classic rock seeking comfort in its familiarity and its predictable joys. Sam France and Jonathan Rado are Foxygen. They are 22 year olds. They aren't really old enough to be that familiar with anything. But by now, you likely have read about Foxygen's  We Are The 21st Century Ambassadors of Peace and Magic, as music writers have gone into giddy seizures trying to document the references, influencers and cut & paste jobs in this young duo's latest work. Let me get a little bit of that out of the way and just say its got the big guns - Beatles in the majestic, trumpeting opener "In The Darkness", right down to the Sgt Peppers' drum sound and "ahh-ahhhs". So cocky and so loveable. The stunning "No Destruction" sounds like Lou Reed fronting the Stones. And from there, amazingly, there is no let-up. This album's stoned grooves are loose but never lazy with the melodies. The hooks are relentless. There are no psych freak outs nor any droning noise filler shit to clutter things. These guys are like The Brian Jonestown Massacre with talent and songs. "San Francisco" is the highest highlight here. It's a nimbly executed and nakedly pretty Bell and Sebastian-style lament that will be difficult for any band to top this year. France's vocal performance is impeccable, the phrasing delicate and textured. Elsewhere, France sounds a lot like Jagger - especially on the Prince-infused "Oh Yeah" and the pulsating rave-up of a title track. The arrangements and instrumentation prove as dexterous throughout the 9 songs. The fact that Foxygen is a two-man act allows them the versatility to so winningly shapeshift from Sly and the Family Stone to The Sonics, sometimes within the same song. 

Countless bands have sucked on the sixties and seventies, but Foxygen's exceptional exhalation is free love rock n' roll - funk, garage rock, soul, psychedelics - all delivered with an earnest, un-ironic joy. I'll drink to that. Every damn time. 

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. 

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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.