Record Reviews: March 1996

Remy Zero
Geffen 

Very cool band, with nine very cool songs. Unfortunately the first track shouldn’t be on the record. This band should stay away from what they think is dissonance. Because it’s not dissonant. Playing something out of tune doesn’t mean that it’s dissonant. The other nine songs on the record are great songs. Probably the best of which is called “Descent.” (irony) Another good song is called “Gold Star Speaker.” Remy Zero is the best of the lazy-alternative popsters, if there is such a thing. The best thing about them is they don’t really remind you of anybody they just make you think that they might remind you of someone. From reading the bio you might think the band is full of peace, love and pseudo-hippies. But I don’t really care what the bio says about the band. I might think they’re idiots but the record is great. It’s very layered. It’s very soothing at times. It’s very energetic at times. But like I said, the best thing about it is that it reminds you of nothing too strongly but reminds you of everything subtly. —Maxx

Wipers
The Herd
Tim Kerr Records

My buddy Bill Belcourt shipped me to Wipers five or six years ago. So it is that reason and that reason only that I still consider him a friend of mine. Because he sure as hell doesn’t call me anymore and I’ve called him at least three times which is generally my rule. I call you three times, you don’t call me back, you’re finished. So now I’m going to make an offer to my buddy Bill that will surpass all of my previous offers. Call me and receive the new Wipers record absolutely free of charge. Why? A couple of reasons; 1. It is so damn good Ican barely stand it. 2. Tim Kerr Records fucked up and sent me two of them. Since no one else in this town knows who Greg Sage is then it’s safe to assume I won’t be able to sell the other one. Besides, it should go to someone who really likes Wipers and that would be Bill. The best songs are hard to say because they’re all pretty strong.

 “Sinking as a Stone,” “The Herd,” “Defiant …” this is a great record to listen to if you just want to rage for about an hour, or clean your house or climb a rock or go on a huge, long bike ride. If you’re not familiar with Wipers then you don’t know what I’m talking about. If you are then you’re in the hip zone. Definitely check it out, definitely listen to it and find out for yourself. Oh yeah, Bill, call me. —Mr. Pink

1000 Mona Lisas
New Disease
RCA 

You remember 1000 Mona Lisas? They released a five song EP a while ago with an outstanding cover of Alanis Morisette‘s “You Ought to Know.” Which was so much better than the original it’s hard to believe it was a cover. Anyway, the difference between this band and Foo Fighters is that this band can actually sing and play and write really good catchy songs, all the while still being hard-edged power pop. The other difference is, of course, that 1000 Mona Lisas are not living off the notoriety, fame and fortune of dead rock stars. Just listen to the song “New Disease” or “Girl Friendly” or “In the Red” and tell me this isn’t a better band. In other words, the cute girl just got to the dance and you’re still dancing with her mouthy loud zit-faced roommate. —Mr. Pink

Turkey Mallet
Chiaroscuro
Immune Records

If you ask me, ska is meant for one thing: dance, dance, unka unka unka. I wouldn’t normally buy a whole hell of a lot of it to listen to at home. But on the other hand I busted my knee to Skankin’ Pickle at Bar ‘n’ Grill one year, that’s what a good time I have listening to it when it’s done right. Turkey Mallet set off trying, but they just don’t follow through. They lack in a strong horn section, and they too often don’t even get it up, unka-unka wise. They meander, and unlike garage band music, I think ska’s got to at least be tight. A couple songs even sound like Violent Femmes go ska, which is not a healthy combo. It’s also a relatively constricting medium in which to work, and therefore to distinguish yourself you’re going to have to have something extra special. Turkey Mallet don’t got it. —Capt. America

The Obvious
Detached
Grindstone Records

This record came out about a year ago, maybe even more than a year ago, and all of you locals know them as The Obvious that brought grunge to Utah. Not true. Anyway, they’ve since moved to Los Angeles for their big-huge record deal, which I’ve yet to see happen. This CD is probably one of the most derivative CD’s I’ve ever heard. There are so many bad things about this CD that I don’t even know where to begin. But I will say this. I’m going to stop using the word “obvious” to describe anything in my life from now on, I’ll just say, “It’s plain to see” and with that I will say “It’s plain to see” that this band is suffering from a severe lack of originality. Especially the guitar player, oh I’ll get to him later. All of the songs are written in one of thoseelf-important modes of trying to be political but trying to be correct and trying to be sympathetic to this and still trying to be hard and not trying to write songs about girls in cars. So instead, they write songs about the Bureau of Land Management but they make absolutely no valid points. Some of the lyrics are so pathetic … “Alone phone, god of love, commanded hate you did. Said the date alone. Life, wife, price too high, die/explain. Flowers beg stay no way awake if you please, friends laugh, side of me” What the hell is that supposed to mean? Is that some silly attempt at haiku or some stupid hyperbole poem? I don’t understand it. Anyway the only thing worse than the lyrics like I stated earlier is the guitar player who has two types of guitar playing. Mindless, slow, I hope I stay in the right key guitar playing and then mindless fast I hope I stay in the right key guitar playing. And it’s pretty “plain to see” that this band would probably be twice as good without him.

However if we’re going to get rid of him we might as well get rid of the singer too. Because not only can he sing, but he does this screaming, whining, moaning thing every time that there would require some real balls to sing. That’s what he puts in there instead. The bass player and the drummer aren’t bad as far as this type of music goes. The bass player kind of stuck in that Flea thing though. But they’re the only two members in the band that could probably pursue musical careers elsewhere. The singer and the guitar player however need to start looking for a job I’d say about right now.

Anyway, in closing I will say if this is the best Utah has to offer then count us off the map and all record companies can stop sending things  to Utah because no one here has any talent. That of course is sarcasm. I can name 25 unsigned local bands that could wipe the floor with these guys as far as originality and talent go. This is the most boring mundane band I think I’ve ever listened to. They remind me of Trixter or Poison or any other one of those fad bands with the big hair and their stupid clothes. Only these guys have different types of big hair and different types of stupid clothes. God forbid they stay together so that they can come back to the Zephyr in five years for the Big Obvious reunion or they can go on tour with bands like Skidrow and Motley Crew playing in front of the Cottonwood Mall. —Bob

Frank Black
The Cult Of Ray
American Records

What do good music and ex-members of the Pixies have in common? 

Nothing.

Another pound of dripping dog crap from a man that should have died years ago. I have tons of friends who believe that Frank Black’s shit doesn’t stink, I never have nor will I ever subscribe to that school of thought. Frank Black has turned out to be the Peter Frampton of the nineties, that’s right he should make a double live album and disappear from our lives forever. What a moron he thought he was so good he didn’t need the pixies. Ha… who’s laughing now fat boy. Kim Deal that’s who. Go crawl back into the masturbatory record for your own ego Mr. Black. Hey if you want to do yourself a favor skip this record and get something by Liberace. At least he knew he was. —Sausage King

Death of an American Ska-Thic
Midwest Ska’s Forgotten Past
Jump Up

A compilation of ska bands from to the midwest… To hear the description you’d think it was time for another addition to the CD experimentation project (I wonder how long I can hold this over an open flame before it melts? If I throw it in the microwave, will it spark?) A pretty eclectic mix here, from reggaeska, which is almost entirely devoid of possible listening pleasure, to some pretty energetic stuff. The bands that do their best towards making the compilation worthwhile are not necessarily the most creative, but the once who pour everything into it. “Pickle Brown Betty” is one of those; presumably why they made the first cut on the disc. “Tom Colins and the Cocktail Shakers” are not only proficiently danceworthy but also pretty fucking funny with “Cereal Box”. “Jil Thorpe and the Beat Bous” come up with a pretty cool sound, as do “Urbations”. The aforementioned slow reggaeska sound, however,  cornes into play simply too many times. It’s just not interesting. You can’t dance to it, so what’s the point? The scales of justice point towards the toilet. —Capt. America

Skinny Puppy
The Process
American Records

The story has been all over the music press. The Process record which is pretty damn good. is the final Skinny Puppy album. Ogre quit the band and Dwane Goettel died from a heroin overdose. Ogre and cEvin Key aren’t speaking etc. The album’s name is taken from a religious cult, which Ogre describes as “a psychotherapy cult that stared in the 60s. They were deemed a Satanic cult, but they were neither Satanic nor Christian. In fact they were both.” Ogre started a cult of his own on the Internet. 

In case you think Skinny Puppy has gone off and made a tehno or horror rock album have a listen. I’m sure some track of another will end up filling the floor at discos everywhere. It could be “Blue Serge” or another of he beat happy pieces, but Skinny Puppy came n as industrial and they leave as industrial. Layer upon layer of swirling electronically produced sounds, chords, melodies, sweeping hooks, etc. compete with attention with found samples, treated voices and of course Ogre. The little quiet, staticy parts give respite from the relentless throb. Since the CD arrived shortly after deadline I’ve only had time to listen once. One time through was enough to convince me that The Process will provide a number of future pleasurable moments. The only criticism I have to offer is; the damn thing doesn’t last long enough. —Ga Ga Whore

Varnaline
Man of Sin
Zero Hour 

This is a record of songs written by singer song writer Andus Parker. I don’t think its really a band cause he plays everything on the record except for bass on a couple of songs. He makes the horrendous mistake of putting an incredibly bad song as the opening track. Luckily for him I persevered through the rest of the over the record which is pretty damn good. He really needs to stick to the acoustic guitar singer songwriter thing cause he does it way better than his attempts at Sonic Youth. type electric guitar song writing. Besides that his electric guitar sounds like shit. Some of the good on here are called Little Pills, Want You and Gary’s Paranoia.This is a good record go out and see if you can try and find it. It’s better than most of the crap you hear. —Mr. Pink

Ruby
Salt Peter
Creation

In the Portishead-Tricky vein, Ruby comes along with a woman moaning, growling and rapping her way through dance tines to make the best with two backs on the dance floor. I have to admit that I’m biased towards the genre, but nevertheless I think Ruby stands out. It’s a hard genre to get right – too fast and it’s grating in about thirty seconds, too overdubbed and it sounds like shit. Here’s a common problem: some dj comes up with an admittedly cool sound, and plays it over and over in some minimalist Yoko Ono thing til I can’t ever hear it again. With Ruby, ‘taint a problem. The lead singer pulls of quite a few vocal effects (if you don’t know what I mean, it’s what Alanis Morisette fails so miserably at.) and that’s always nice to see attempted and accomplished. Viewer beware theres a pretty strong riot grrrl feminism running through the lyrics (“why would you kill me? ‘Cos I’d cut down your king tree.”) although I have to admit that a woman growling through fuck songs on lyrics of watch-out-for-your-balls-boys makes it all the more interesting as far as I’m concerned. There’s truly a lot of good songs on this thing. Paraffin (“old man’s ass, fifty heads wide”), Heidi, Swallow Baby… They’re all pretty good. I have no idea if they’ve been on the radio because it’s now been seven months since I heard one (except for the merengue they play in the streets in my neighborhood). If they haven’t been, they should be. —Capt. America

Ride
Tarantula
Sire/EEG

Farewell lads — but why do you have to leave us so soon? After six years, the ride is over! The Oxford, England bunch is now defunct, but not without the one last record. The Stone Roses, Rolling Stones, early Blur, Charlatans UK – this is Ride’s style of rock. The production is magnificent and the songs are as ripe as can be! On this record, is one sweet melody after another, proficient musicianship, and the decency to avoid a repetitious sound of obnoxious guitars – something that is so popular these days. Ride can blend classic rock (Keith Richard guitar solos) with the sound of contemporary British pop / rock. The single is “Black Nite Crasher,” a rock n. Roller in the truest sense carrying a nifty guitar riff. Every track is bloody splendid – this boat is going down with flying colors! —Gary Savelson

Aimee Mann
I’m With Stupid
DGC Records

I have a soft spot in my heart ( although some would say it’s in my skull) for Aimee Mann. For a couple of reasons: a) She’s from Richmond b) the bartender where I used to work swears that he kissed her and she had a giant crush on him in high school and c) I spent one summer on a porch drinking way too much beer sitting with the coolest girl I’ve ever met, listening to her first record. I was talking to that summertime babe the other day when she informed be that it had been her who swiped that CD from me but, she had been listening to it and thinking of me. Aimee Mann will always be the artist I will associate with a summer spent agonizing over the girl I loved seeing someone she knew was an asshole and telling me she wished she had gone out with me. It’s the artist I associate with being played. 

Oh yeah the songs on this record are exceptionally well crafted and I like ‘em and stuff. Bad news is this record may not produce a summer filled with fun and interesting stories from bartenders. Good News this record sounds nothing like Til Tuesday. —SAUSAGE KING

Mark Bordie and the Beaver Patrol
The Shores of Hell
Shredder Records

Humorous spoken word intros to albums are bad tidings of great paint in almost every instance that I’ve had the displeasure of running across them, Leav them off your albums, boys and girls. This very album could have been headed for the clunker were it not for the music immediately following the sacrilegious beginnings, and you wouldn’t want that to happen to you, now would you? Fine surfin’ music. They know how to keep the songs short, tight and jazzy so’s you can move your feets to ‘em. The only question I have to ask myself is what possible criteria could there be for reviewing a surf album. Anyone with a rudimentary knowledge of how to operate their fingers could play the majority of the guitar needed and anyone who’s ever drummed against their leg should be able to follow along on drums. The leads are usually funky and sometimes pretty quick handed, but they’re rarely all over the board musically. It comes down to this: does it feel good? Does it make your ass bounce? (never mind the other things that feel good and make your ass bounce, we’re talking about music here). Why yes, it does! This album fulfills both those requirements. Of course it’s all cheesy as hell, but it’s done with the proper attitude, so grab a martini and lounge around the house in your robe all day and do the twist. Try not to remember all the frat boys doing the same thing. —Capt. America

The Morning Glories
Many Moods
Zev Records

This band sucks and I mean big time. They are trying desperately to be the Dukes of the Stratosphere and they can’t even play an XTC song. They are striving for psychedelia, modern pop guitar songs and they fail miserably. Of course I should say I’m only talking about the first six songs because I couldn’t make it past the sixth song. So anybody who has heard tracks 7 through 13 and their not as shitty tracks 1 through 6 let me know. —Mr. Pink

Snuff
Demmamussabebank
Fat Wreck Chords

Musicians must be getting bored. These days most bands sound the same with hardly any musical differences to set each band apart. Modern Punk Rockers are guilty of this crime more than others. Face it, there’s not much you can do with fast 3 chord playing. London, Egland’s Snuff are attempting to put some new ingredients in the pot. With a sprinkling of Hammond organ and bombone added to the spicy meat of some of along on the fourteen tracks on their new Fat Wrecks Chords disc. Punk rock anthems of “Oi!” and other traditional ideas are mixed with new ideas. The playing and singing is fucking TOP NOTCH, making this disc one of the year’s best so for. Great album that will have you dancing and air-guitaring mund the room. “Dicky Trois”’ rocks with punk rock forever, while “Nick Northern” has a funky jazz-rock-blues feel to it, like Inspiral Carpets hooked up with NOFX. Truly fucking great. Diversity runs rampant on this great must have a record. Pity for you if you don’t make this a party of your collection. Besides, you could be the first one on your block to show what musical taste is about. —Kevlar M.

Fatso Jetson
Stinky Little Gods
SST

It’s a hell of interesting mix that I’ve gotten to review this month. Fatso Jetson is like a combination of garage punk and surf music. I should add that to take some of the best things from those styles and mixes them. It’s heavy and loud, but it moves right along like surf. Its lyrics and design concept suggest weirdness, the kind that’s simply for the sake of being weird, usually in good fun. FIREHOSE kind of weirdness. Like the Sun Regime in SLC days of yore, they were playing mighty strange music sort of hard to define, they all played well but you never sure if any of it was supposed to mean anything. I can’t listen to too much Frank Zappa because I always feel like he has some point that I’m missing (feel the same way about Mr. Bungle..they’re having such a good time being into their trip that I don’t have room to join). As long as you can remove yourself from the notion that something’s going over your head then Fat Jetson is at least fun to listen to. And it takes honors for best song title in a while: Corn on the Macabre. —Capt. America

Read more from the SLUG Archives:
Record Reviews: February 1996
Interview: Son Volt