Mount Eerie
Now Only

P.W. Elverum & Sun
Street: 03.16
Mount Eerie = Thanksgiving + Low + Smog

In 2017, Phil Elverum, the artist behind Mount Eerie (formerly The Microphones), released A Crow Looked at Me, undoubtedly one of the bravest yet most tragic albums pressed to vinyl as Elverum sought to come to terms with the death of his partner, artist and musician Geneviève Castrée, who sadly passed away in 2016 after a battle with pancreatic cancer.

Impermanence and the fleetingness of life have been recurring themes in Elverum’s work both as The Microphones and Mount Eerie, and with Now Only he continues this. He keeps the narrative of A Crow Looked at Me alive, but the tone has shifted from devastation to his delicate recounting of his relationship with Castrée and life since. The pain is as real as it was on A Crow, but the days have continued to pass and Elverum shares these moments with us over six pensive tracks.

“I sing to you, I sing to you, Geneviève,” laments Elverum in the opening seconds of “Tintin in Tibet,” the album’s first track, which takes its title from the children’s book by Hergé. Over fingerpicked guitars he tells of how they read the book aloud to one another in French while waiting for a boat, how they sunk into one another, “in love, totally insane.”

Elverum’s penchant for darkness re-emerges on the second track and the album’s single, “Distortion,” which begins with a crushing, distorted guitar riff that is reminiscent of an earlier Mount Eerie album, Wind’s Poem. “I know that you are gone and I’m carrying some version of you around,” Elverum sings. More acoustic guitars enter as he dolefully tells of his youth and first experiences with mortality, another recurring theme throughout his work. This time, however, it is as stark and real as ever. “I do remember when I was a kid and realized that life ends and is just over,” he continues, drawing a line from his youth to the world he now knows, brooding guitars surging in and out as the 11-minute song moves along.

The third and title track picks up where the second left off, with Elverum remembering a hospital waiting room, scanning the faces of the other people there before he shifts into a sing-song lamentation: “But people get cancer die … people just living their lives get erased for no reason,” going on to tell how the rest of us search for ways to “feel lucky to still be alive, to sleep through the night.”

“Earth,” the fourth track, begins as if it’s going to be another upbeat tune in tone before it quickly turns dour, Elverum presenting the moments of having to live while others do not as realistically as must be the sway of emotions in that situation.

Now Only ends with “Crow, Pt.2,” which more than any track on the album is a continuation of the healing process Elverum has described to us. “The baby that you knew is now a kid and when she looks at me with your eyes / The shape of almonds / I am stirred inside and re-emerge,” he sings, gently commemorating his late partner, gravely observing new patterns of life over nylon strings, one of Elverum’s most touching and humbling songs to date.

This is what the aftermath of what real death sounds like after having passed through Elverum’s home, a gentle and touching remembrance to the life and creativity of that which left him. The music of Mount Eerie has always been highly personal and intrinsic, with Now Only acting as a cathartic and therapeutic follower to A Crow Looked at Me. –Ryan Sanford

Judas Priest – Firepower

Judas Priest

Columbia Records
Street: 03.09
Judas Priest = Saxon + Accept + Iron Maiden

With their primary members dwindling, there is a looming question: Is Judas Priests’ new album, Firepower, classic Priest? Guitarist K.K. Downing is no longer with the band, and guitarist Glen Tipton is battling Parkinson’s disease and bowing out for the upcoming tour, with co-producer Andy Sneap filling in. Downing and Tipton were very much a dual threat on guitars, creating the classic Priest sound on albums like Defenders of the Faith, Screaming for Vengeance and Painkiller. Rob Halford and Ian Hill remain from the band’s original lineup. The controversy of absent band members and the change of album sounds is nothing new. A prime example is when Jason Newstead stepped up for And Justice for All after Cliff Burton’s passing. It’s forever cemented that Newstead’s bass sound is barely heard on the album. With all this in mind as I went in to listen to Firepower, I took note that a band in its heyday is nothing compared to a band in their so called “twilight years,” but that doesn’t mean a new album has to instantly be bad or automatically judged as bad because of lack of members, age or time passed since the glory days.

Firepower starts out with its title track blazing some hefty, chunky guitar riffing—not exactly in the realm of classic Priest, but it leads the track into its catchy, already anthem-like quality. The follow-up, “Lightning Strike,” definitely sounds more in the vein of classic Priest. As I progress forward through the album, I do notice its stark differences in production and guitar tones. It’s nothing so glaring: There are some truly great riffs going on and a ton of catchy songs. The worst offense in the entire sound of the album is that the guitar solos—every single one—are stale as a two-week-old bagel. They try to have soul, but it just feels like a guitar aficionado more concerned with technicality than substance.

The first half of the record is filled with catchy, fist-pumping tracks. The first six songs have already dug their metal teeth into my skull, unlike the rather tedious last album, Redeemer of Souls, of which the only song I can name is the title track. After those first six cuts on Firepower—highlights being “Necromancer” and “Never the Heroes”—things get a little muddy. “Rising from the Ruins” enters ballad territory, which is fine, but it doesn’t have the soul of those initial songs. “Flame Thrower” does have some of that ’80s-style cheese lyrically and musically, but the core riff is pretty derivative. “Traitors Gate” is the strongest track of the latter half of the album. Halford’s vocal approach is pretty vicious and fun to hear. The album’s 14 tracks could have easily been trimmed to 11, maybe 12.  

Despite my criticisms and flaws, Firepower maintains the qualities of a Judas Priest album, and a good one at that. It does not sound like the Priest of the glory days, and nor do I expect it to. In my humble opinion, no Priest album after Painkiller sounds like the “glory days.” My point is, it’s easy to judge a band by what they’ve done in the past over what they have created now. It’s never going to be 1982 again, and I’m not placing judgment on every Priest fan nor naysayer—but enjoy what exists now. Love what was in the past, but don’t live in it. Firepower is a strong entry in the history of Judas Priest. –Bryer Wharton

The Breeders
All Nerve

Street: 03.02
The Breeders + The Amps + Throwing Muses + Little Trouble Girl

 After listening to recent Pixies albums, it’s clear to see that they need Kim Deal more than Kim Deal needs them. Kim Deal was always what Frank Black / Black Francis could never be—likable. With a movie-star smile and an easy, coolest-person-in-the-room charm, Deal’s absence has reduced The Pixies to sounding like a second-rate, nostalgic cover act. After 25 years, Deal has resurrected her one-time side project back from the dead. Her ethereal, scratchy voice has thankfully remained intact. She could sing over a large, rusty chain being dragged across concrete and make it interesting. Kim Deal and The Breeders are back for another splash, and this time around that splash comes from darker waters.

Make no mistake: This isn’t a Kim Deal vanity project. The Breeders have always been able to bring the noise—they can sound like left-on power tools and cool-breeze surf pop at the same time. The rhythm section of Jim Macpherson (drums) and Josephine Wiggs (bass) is tight and twisted up like barbed wire holding down Kim and twin sister Kelley Deal’s wandering, blistering guitar work—guitars that fade in and out with varying intensity. The Deal sisters help to push along the quieter, slow-roll movement of the track “Walking With A Killer.” The song is a sludgy death dirge that can easily be a modern mirror to Neil Young And Crazy Horse‘s “Cortez The Killer.” Deal sings, “I’m waiting for a killer / And I’m going to need that ride / We walked through the night / Through the cornfields of East 35.” For most of the song, the tone doesn’t let up. “I know I should hide / I know it was my night to die,” Deal sings before ending the song with a kiss. Kim Deal’s lyrics are Pixie-like-perfect on the track “Wait In The Car,” as Deal sings, “Consider I / Always struggle with the right word / Meow Meow Meow Meow / As a sinner I unlock / Nothing but need.” The meowing and the “oh, oh” chorus help stitch together the darkness in the song. “Forgot the sun tried to get off / Takin’ a nap because strategy’s for punks / Mother wants to hold me down / Gonna trace the stars / Makin’ a map / Scrapin’ at the sky / Just to fall back.” Even the song titles on this album are like must-see movie posters that for which I can’t wait to let the story unfold, such as “Nervous Mary,” “Spacewoman” and “Archangel’s Thunderbird”—not to mention ending the record with “Blues At The Acropolis.”

All Nerve isn’t a pop record, but at times it can sound like one. It isn’t an angry record, but at the same time, it isn’t an all-over-the-place happy one, either. For whatever reason, or a combination of reasons—personal, health, family, a failed reunion with her old band, or just simply pure exhaustion and lack of a want to be out there. It doesn’t matter. All Nerve marks a return—a beginning, a reemergence of an artist that has stepped back into the light with something new, an icon reinventing herself. The Breeders are once again firing on all cylinders—everything works. All Nerve is a fun, raw, emotional record that entertains, spins my head and demands your attention. On the title track, Deal sings, “I wanna see you / You don’t know how much I miss you / I may be high / I may hide and run out at you.” We’ve missed you, too, Kim; we’ve missed The Breeders. Welcome back. –Russ Holsten

World Beyond

Street: 03.09
Erasure = Sparks + Communards + Kronos Quartet

Having continued to more than enjoy last year’s édifiant World Be Gone offering from synth trailblazers Vince Clarke and Andy Bell, and in anticipation of awaiting news of their forthcoming live return to the States, it was unexpectedly pleasant to learn of a companion release that had recently been completed. (Their wait to return to the States was a necessary calculation on the band’s part, given their already exhaustive touring commitment in other parts of the world, but the unexpected result of not immediately touring this album has paid off handsomely in an unprecedented string of sold-out dates, including two here in Salt Lake City! In other words, their absence has made U.S. fans’ hearts grow fonder.) Dubbed as a “post-classical re-interpretation” of World Be Gone with the impressive talents of Echo Collective at the helm, World Beyond is not only a refreshing concept, but also stirs the beauty and thought-provoking notions the original album helped to inspire.

Last year’s review of this regenerative project offers my track-by-track World Be Gone analysis, so there’s no need to revisit those here, yet the most startling thing about World Beyond is how dynamic these recreated tracks sound. Lyrically, the new setting makes quite a few songs “pop” in new, unexpected ways. Take the slightly re-ordered opener “Oh What A World,” which swaps places with “Love You To The Sky.” A near-reverential repeated pulsing note precedes Bell’s melancholic singing (which were originally drone-like) and are joined by strings and piano. The initial wallop of the message is more than still alive, but it sounds even more arresting. “Be Careful What You Wish For!” and the especially poignant “Still It’s Not Over” induce goosebumps in their new arrangements respectively. The original album’s title track—a desire for peace and Hope if ever there was one—is divinely reimagined with a harp and a delicate vocal performance from Bell and can simply be described as gorgeous. The new setting makes its lyrics that much more profound. Likewise, the aforementioned numinous pearl that is “Still It’s Not Over” commands one’s full attention to it.

The initial intrigue of “Sweet Summer Loving” is recreated brilliantly with minatory strings that reappear even as the more lightened vocals and instrumentation rescue it from a darker collision, and the new arrangement of original lead single “Love You To the Sky” shows it is still brimming with wonder and even enhances a few extra background lyrics, which are complemented by a slight musical coda at track’s end. “Lousy Sum Of Nothing” still possesses its balladry and strength, but the vocal further highlights this project’s greatest asset: one Mr. Bell. His voice literally soars throughout. It’s a praiseworthy performance considering he’s already provided an impressive take on all of these songs.

But let’s not forget about co-creator Clarke, whose initial idea for this project was at first just to have one of the tracks be given an orchestral reinterpretation, but then expanded the concept astutely to realize the full album’s grandeur. Produced by the Echo Collective, it features the talents of seven of its members: Margarent Hermant (violin, harp), Neil Leiter (viola), Thomas Engelen (cello), Jaroslaw Mroz (double bass), Gary De Cart (piano) and Antoine Dandoy (vibraphone, glockenspiel), all of whom enhance Bell’s tour de force vocal performance.

World Beyond is available in a wide variety of formats (LTD hardback CD, red vinyl, cassette) and is released via Mute on March 9. Erasure World Be Gone Tour comes to Kingsbury Hall on Aug. 11–12 and is already sold out. –Dean O Hillis

Lucy Dacus

Street: 03.02
Lucy Dacus = HEM + Portishead

Lucy Dacus’ sophomore album, Historian, is a solid follow-up to her 2016 debut, No Burden. As of now, I’m not quite sure this album is everything I hoped and expected it to be, but that’s only because of how good of a debut I felt No Burden was. I guess that’s the rub, right? Sophomore slumps are generally the result of a bar being set exceedingly high by an atypical freshman’s performance.

Like most good albums, though, the more I listen to Historian, the more I find to like about it. Dacus is a good narrator, and my favorite tracks are those in which she displays that talent profusely. There is one song in particular I revisited often. “Pillar of Truth,” a track concerning an old woman on her deathbed, is a poignant reflection on time and how we are all helpless beneath it. Dacus does a beautiful job of portraying her own insecurities in the presence of someone who has experienced so much more of life than herself while also realizing that the old woman was once young and apprehensive about the process as well.

In addition to “Pillar of Truth,” her writing sets the tone on other tracks too. The lead single and opening song, “Night Shift,” is another example of her storytelling abilities. The lyrics encompass painful recollections of a breakup and the ensuing attempts at moving on all while having one last cup of coffee with the very person she is struggling to forget. It’s very astute and laid out in a way that everyone with a broken heart in their history can identify with.

Those two songs act as bookends, sandwiching the rest of the album, holding the other parts up and giving them structure, substance. That isn’t to say that there is nothing substantial in the middle. It’s not a sandwich if it’s only bread, no?

“Yours And Mine” and “Body To Flame” are right in the middle, the fifth and sixth tracks, and both are splendid pieces of songwriting. The lyrics are compelling, but I have yet to mention any other feature that makes Dacus’ music what it is. Sure, her voice is always smooth and sharp when necessary, but what pushes it over the top is the dramatic contrast found within most of the songs on Historian. She’ll set listeners up to feel one way to begin with, but will speed it up or slow it down significantly to hammer home a point or emphasize an emotion. Dacus does this very well early on “Nonbeliever” and later on “Timefighter.”

There are a lot of different sounds present on the album as well, and they really work together to create something that comes off as entirely singular. I catch a lot of ’90s grunge and alternative influences with the guitar and tone in many of the songs. At the same time, there is an obvious touch of the folkish vocalist here, too. Dacus’ voice reminds me of Sally Ellyson, but the dense guitar, which strangely works with her pipes, is PJ Harvey–esque or Hole-like.

I like Historian, more after having processed it more. But, I feel there is more to it than what I have gathered thus far. To fully love an album, I have to digest it over time. I can’t say that I love this one, yet, but I will be listening to it for some time, which leads me to believe I will ultimately be a long-time fan. It will just take more cycles, catching different lyrics and strings plucked in other songs to garner my fixation. –Billy Swartzfager

Citizen Soldier

Street Date: 10.28.17
Citizen Soldier = Fuel + Three Days Grace + Nickelback

Have you ever wondered why musicians create catchy songs about sadness? We can almost assume the manipulative bastards want us to suffer. For the artist it’s a bit of channeling, but the residual attracts a group of fans relating over their collective misery. So why do some of us love this music so dearly? Why as kids did we scream into pretend microphone hands and unleash a fury? The answer is simple, really—it’s a release. The EP Caroline by Citizen Soldier is just such a thing: a loud, thrashing exorcism of glorious mental vomit, and it’s the best thing I’ve heard from this genre in some time.

The video for Citizen Soldier’s “Buried Alive” features a young woman drowning in a bathtub while she experiences a series of crestfallen moments. The water/world is slowly creeping over her mouth just before she pushes up, echoing the lyrics of the song. It’s easy to map out the depressive themes that recur throughout the album, but there’s an underlying fight in the depicted characters that ultimately makes this project rewarding. She doesn’t let her world consume her, and challenges the monsters in her head.

In the song “Caroline,” perspective becomes the focus and we get a moral understanding in relation to circumstances and where our feet end up. “Caroline” embodies the distance between what we know and where we are. It’s beautiful, sad and a lot of fun to sing along to.

The EP continues with “Soldier,” where crashing guitars imitate the world around outsiders. The fighting theme is most evident in this song, and the self-acceptance feeds the ones marching on. “15 Minutes of Fame” is a ballad in self-awareness, a joyous cry that would sit comfortably in progressive church youth groups.

“Let It Burn” closes out the record and feels like a montage of all the themes addressed in the album, as though they are being set free or let go. The importance of moving on ends this album with a very welcome and hopeful note.

For a continued understanding of these emotional juggernauts, I suggest seeing Citizen Soldier live. With shows at the likes of Kilby and The Royal, there are plenty upcoming opportunities check them out. –Benjamin Tilton

Michael Biggs | I Have Fear

Michael Biggs
I Have Fear (Original Soundtrack)

Street: 10.13.17
Michael Biggs = Angelo Badalamenti + Massive Attack + Demdike Stare

On the surface, the soundtrack for Biggs’ unreleased film seems to draw directly from eerie film music conventions. There’s a fair amount of John Carpenter–style suspense, guitar leads that would’ve fit nicely on a Goblin project and a whole lot of Twin Peaks–indebted synthesizers and MIDI jazz. In the finer details, however, Biggs creates unique compositions by drawing on dance, funk and dub effects.

Some tracks, such as “Haunted” and “Basement Suite,” opt for a purely atmospheric approach, using low-end synth progressions and effects to form massive caverns of sound. The former track abruptly ends, mirroring a startling jump shot from a horror film. This isn’t the only time that I Have Fear’s music draws on filmmaking techniques, and therein lies one of the album’s strengths. Rather than simply make music that accompanies a film, Biggs makes music that acts like a film by itself. His use of panning, mixing and various effects makes the music feel tangible and spacious, to the point where—even removed from his film—the sounds nearly become visual.

Ultimately, it’s the tracks where Biggs incorporates a wider instrumental palette and more driving rhythms that really stand out. The title track’s thumping kick drum perfectly contrasts the elongated, chromatic melody that floats over the track’s mix, while the subtle echoes and trip-hop drums on “Heavy Moods 2” deliver on that cut’s titular promise, creating the aural equivalent of a slow pan across a dirty, dimly lit room. The guitars toward the end of this track sound like alien funk riffs, a quality that’s only furthered by the screeching and wailing electronics that frequently bury the more recognizable instrumentation.

The centerpiece of the album—and candidate for most successful track—is “The Blooming.” The nearly eight-minute track swells from barely-audible synthesizer hums to a menacing mix of ping-ponging guitar lines and buzzing electronics. The track is a perfect mediation of the two sides Biggs presents on I Have Fear: at once creating microscopically detailed drone music, but similarly comfortable using precise rhythm as its own means of expression. The track acts as a sort of key to I Have Fear at large, certifying that, no matter how far-reaching the sounds are, there’s one singular vision at the heart of the project. –Connor Lockie

Tom Bennett
I Am Everywhere

Sweet Salt Records
Street: 02.01.17
Tom Bennett = Charlie Parr + The Black Lillies

Georgian gone West Tom Bennett is a folk singer whose 2017 three-track EP is titled I Am Everywhere. This is Bennett’s third EP, and while short in length, each song is soulfully folk and filled with instrumental depth and thrill.

The EP opens with “Show Me The Exit Sign,” which is a quick-rhythm song rooted in classic folk elements. Bennett sets the bar high as a one-man band, opening with strums and slides on the dobro, which only briefly stands alone before the wailing harmonica comes driving in. Bennett kicks up the dirt with gritty vocals, foot drumming and percussions—a beat you can’t help but stamp to.

“Where Do You Keep Your Love” is slower and about five and half minutes long. The song begins with foot percussions and is shortly joined by the harmonica, howlin’ the blues. The harmonica often takes the place of vocals, trading off to accompany the strumming dobro and frequent slides and dramatic starts and stops. Bennett manages to deliver a classic cowboy song without total sadness and despair, but instead, just the good, ol’-fashioned blues.

“If I Was A Conductor” is a fun, upbeat folksy-blues song. While equally instrumentally impressive with the train-sounding harmonica and quick-chord shifts and picks, Bennett incorporates narrative-style lyrics. Between fast foot-kicking and clapping, he sings, “Well if I was a conductor / Let me tell you what I see / I see the wide open West / Laid out in front of me.”

Bennett seamlessly shifts from instrument to instrumental to vocals, and it’s hard to believe he’s one man band. With only these three tracks on I Am Everywhere, Bennett offers a wild peek at what’s to come. Hold on to your horses—I bet it’s going to be good. –Lizz Corrigan

Similar Fashion
Portrait of

Street: 02.16
Similar Fashion = Zs + it foot, it ears + Evil Genius


Now that I’ve got your attention, let me tell you about the new album from Utah expats Similar Fashion. The quartet fuses the worlds of avant-rock, jazz and classical music to form a whole that, although deeply informed by the stuffy traditions of academic music-making, ends up being an exhilarating and sugar-coated ride through blistering saxophone playing, absurdist lyricism and—yes—plenty of polyrhythms.

Even though the music often comes off as scorching (and John Dieterich’s production job is heavy and forceful), Portrait of never sacrifices enjoyment and musical beauty for aggression. A huge part of this is Lauren Baba’s viola playing, which adds a layer of refined nuance whenever it enters. Sometimes that’s a sweeping orchestral line (“Portrait of James Turrell”), or it’s a series of playful bluegrass slides (“Myra’s Fortune”), but her addition is always a good mediating factor within Similar Fashion’s colliding musical elements.

Then there are the melodies, which—track after track—are pure gold. “My Heart & Lungs” is one of the more subdued cuts on the album, and its twinkling guitar lines and surreal, peaceful lyrics are a moment of serenity on Portrait of. In a different vein, the varied iterations and instrumental backgrounds of the main motif on “We Watched the Car Sink Into the Puddle” showcase the extreme diversity possible within 10 notes: at once frantic and searching, but later more akin to an agitated lament when the music stretches out into lush chord progressions.

Most of all, though, Similar Fashion are incredible at being loud, dexterous and strange. The brief “Melonface” is one of the most baffling minutes on the record, its incessant saxophone riffs and bludgeoning distortion falling to pieces by the end of the cut. Closer “Get Away” combines all the best elements of the band into a satisfying finale: conflicting guitar riffs, heavy but precise drumming, a grand chorus of saxophone, strings and multi-layered vocals and an equal focus on abrasion and harmony. Even though it’s the softer moments that help set Similar Fashion apart from their experimental rock contemporaries, they more than stand among the best when it comes to eccentric, full-throttle compositions. –Connor Lockie

The Terrorsurfs
Mutant Surfin’ Trash

Sharawaji Records
Street: 02.23
The Terrorsurfs = The Boys Ranch + The Phantom Four + Dick Dale

The tenacious surfing garage rockers The Terrorsurfs are back with their new album Mutant Surfin’ Trash. Like their other releases, fans can easily expect some consistency in The Terrorsurfs’ style. It’s the grittiness of The Cramps twisting through the vivid wild sounds of The Trashmen. Think of it as a soundtrack for a Quentin Tarantino film, like a contemporary Kill Bill Vol 1 or Pulp Fiction, but with the desperation of Robert Rodriguez’s Once Upon a Time in Mexico.

After listening to The Terrorsurfs over the last couple of years, I find they never cease to amaze. Surf rock n’ roll clearly lives on. Each progressive release captures a new essence of an ever-expanding, infectious genre. In this new record, there is surf-inspired garage rock that exemplifies rebellion through ferocious instrumentals. Like their contemporaries The Phantom Four, The Terror Surfs rip out works of beauty and psychedelic vibrancy while also being provocative and sharp as a jagged and bloodied surf board’s edge.

Racing at a hot 45 rpm, Mutant Surfin’ Trash boasts 12 tracks of all of the trappings of garage rock barbarism and more. The opening track, “Terrorsurfer,” is a real mover and groover. Containing a strong beat and leading savage and powerful riffs, this track is meant to get listeners jumping about. The second track, “Kosmonauty,” invokes nostalgia for The Ventures’ version of “Wipe Out.” “Raildrag” and “Ghost Ship” have a sound that leans more on the groovy side of the surf.

“Bat Shit Crazy” is just that. It’s got a sound that begs for one to throw themselves around in fits of hysteria. It’s high on energy and style that nods to a Cramps-like primitive nature. Not only that, but this track is also short and sweet.

On the B-Side, “Terrorsurf Apocalypse” carries a dramatic weight. It’s foreboding and delicious with rapidfire drum beats and reverberating riffs. Doomsday has never sounded so good.

Overall, Mutant Surfin’ Trash is quite the dynamic album. The Terrorsurfs have what it takes to go fully unbridled, and here they sonically soar with powerhouse riffs. Despite the highly energetic surf stompers that emerge from this record, it retains a feeling of containment or restraint, perhaps due to a maturity in musicianship and recording. However, I should note that even if this album is a little cleaner, there is notable burst of primeval energy along the edges in each track, as if the full terror from these rock n’ rollers is yet to be truly unleashed.

Mutant Surfin’ Trash is a record that ought to be spun over and over again. In the realms of surf-driven garage rock, The Terrorsurfs are among the best to check out. They are not lost in distortion or swampy riffs. Rather, these cats remain electrifying with each song they play. I urge lovers of all that is still decent  to consider The Terror Surfs as an essential addition to a well-traversed, but always good style of rock n’ roll. –Nick Kuzmack