Didn’t think I’d ever see a “RIYL” for the band Leatherface and then when it’s combined alongside the likes of Jawbreaker and Joan Jett, I just kind of figured it would blow my hair back a bit. Sure did. Hailing from the crowded punk scene in Boston, Deadly Sins bring experience in Brendan Maguire (Reach the Sky) and Stephanie Dougherty (female vocals w/Dropkick Murphys on occasion–best known for their single “The Dirty Glass”), and Billy Brown (Crash and Burn). Their fiery brand of gut-wrenching harmonies attest to their superb version of nuanced melodic punk. Songs like “Barely Breathing” no doubt will offer the sort of phat riffage and throaty vocal sing-a-longs at any Boston pub worthy of this group’s performance.
Not really sure what the album title is about? Well who cares, it’s all about great indie/alt. country damn it. The passion of indie music got it right, and so shall we. Easily an album that one can point towards the influence of Johnny Cash (those deep vocals are truly zany) and The Velvet Underground, “Victory Shorts” by Absentee is an album rich in romantic ideals and poor in easy to chew pop nuance for which we’re abundantly thankful. Produced, engineered, and mixed by Nick Terry whose recent notables include the Libertines and Bernard Butler, “Victory Shorts” is a mediation on the mind and body’s odd quirks via smart lyrics and careful composure. Great for those of you unsatisfied that the Cure isn’t making good music anymore who can’t stand that Snoop Dogg was allowed to remix Johnny Cash.
It’s not often that an indie band lasts as long as Thistle has; in fact over these past fifteen years of playing together Thistle has not only grown close as individuals and friends but as a musical outfit. Tweaking their craft with each and every release, Thistle has long been a band that I’ve followed and adored. As one of the giant groups favored on one of my most loved indie labels, Tiberius Records which was formed by the fine gents in the band, Thistle nurses a sound that is similar to the Athens, GA rock sound of the ’90s. “The Small Hours” finds the group embracing a cognizant approach to guitar-centric indie rock with experimental soundscapes building up to a crescendo throughout. From a mixing perspective, this is one of the more interesting albums I’ve heard a rock group produce this year. Thistle proves that despite a lengthy timeline they can still produce something fresh and expansive.
Oh wow this is some pretty hideous singing. While I am an admitted hater of the garage rock sound, I have been doing this long enough to spot talent. The May Fire has very few chops, very little creativity, and yawns their way into each chorus. Singer Catty Tasso is a breathy singer who wants to conjure Kim Deal real bad (nothing on “The List” would even be a b-side of the lesser Deal twin’s Breeders, let alone anything the mighty Pixies did), but falls real damn short. The best part of this album, which is the final part of a trilogy of self-released EPs, is that it ends after twenty some aggravating minutes. Leaves a bad taste in your mouth because despite its raunchiness it can create an ear worm or two. Boo!
While I would agree with the majority of so-called “hardcore” fans of Radiohead that this was a ploy by Capitol Records to squeeze out their last album for contractual reasons (gee, we’ve seen this happen before, haven’t we), for casual fans this is a great album to pick-up. With the hope of inducing rabid fandom, and after you listen to hits like “Creep”, “Karma Police”, “Paranoid Android”, “The National Anthem”, “Knives Out”, and “I Might Be Wrong” how couldn’t you be subject to that ear-riddled disease, I think that the “hardcore fans” should unite. After uniting like some quasi convention at the U.N., they should announce in unison, “yes we’d prefer to have the pop kiddies listening to Radiohead than spend another millisecond considering who to vote for on American Idol or which Cyrus was better, Billy Ray or his multi-millionaire underage daughter better known as Hannah Montana”. If you can’t find yourself on the right side of that argument, than you’re so ‘emo’ and ‘underground’ that even your mom will puke at your very sight and Scott Tenorman clearly must die.