There's No Truth Anyways

Friday night, while all the cool people nobody was at the Brava Spectre / Mammoth Hunter show in Willimantic, I was at the Charter Oak Cultural Center in Hartford to see Beloved Binge, from North Carolina. First, though, I had to suffer through some interminable local band (bass player who plays with his bass above his navel and makes slap/popping sounds + drummer with roto-toms + guitar player who wears a vest and makes guitar faces = DISASTER), but after a few walks around the block and some fiddling with my camera (hence the picture of the front door, below), it was finally safe to go back inside the building.

Actually, the opening band probably set things up well for Beloved Binge, because by the time they went on I was dying to hear anything that was short, sloppy, and to the point. For that I was rewarded, at least, because whatever Beloved Binge lack in technical virtuosity they more than make up for in their willingness to try just about anything during the course of their set. Toy xylophones as instruments, playing drums and keyboards at the same time, banging on guitar strings like a percussion instrument, whatever. Sure, it's not often that I'm in the mood to hear this sort of thing (I saw Shellshag doing something similar last year and found it completely annoying), but on this particular night it agreed with me fine, especially the blown-out Dinosaur Jr. part in "Married on Myspace" and the minimalist indie rock throb of "Miso (I Don't Like People)"-- "I don't like people, but still, I'm trying".

Plus, any time someone can drive the point home about what a mess seven-minute bloated prog-rock songs are, even if it's coincidental, that's fine with me.


Beloved Binge -

"Recall"

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I Skinned The Tip Of My Chin When I Was A Boy

Here's a little gem that I wasn't even aware of before I read about it on the Matador boards about a year ago. The How is Stewart Anderson of Boyracer and Matt Hartman of Sic Alps, doing a two-piece mock-up of "the good Who, before Daltrey brought out the suede-fringed jackets" (although "I Was a Boy" totally deconstructs into a Boyracer-ish screeching feedback-ridden mess by the end of it). The packaging for this is neat, also; the sleeve is clear plastic with a silkscreened white logo so that the red vinyl 45 shows through and approximates a Union Jack-style Who logo, and the whole thing is pretty awesome. There's also a second The How single that came out a number of years before this one, but I've never seen it. (You can still get copies of this one through Slumberland, by the way.)

Besides the fake Who band, Stewart also has a fake Swedish HC thrash band called Lögnhalsmottagningen, which you gotta hear because it's completely hilarious.


The How -

"I Was a Boy"

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Feeling In Reverse

Here's the Greenhouse of Terror 12" that I first mentioned about a year ago (sure, like anyone remembers that), one that I originally fished out of the used bin at Rhymes Records in New Haven around '86/'87 for maybe three bucks or so. This was back when you could buy almost anything from Australia and reasonably expect that it was gonna be great, even more so if it had a certain pedigree (Citadel, Aberrant, Waterfront, etc.). In this case, the Foetus and Black Flag t-shirts on the back cover were enough of a clue that Greenhouse of Terror were worthy of a measly three dollars, or that they had a decent sense of humor at least.

All in all, this is one of my favorite records from that time, and not just for the way that I casually stumbled upon it, or for the old-school press type lettering on the back cover with that casual Aussie slant to it ("noises onto tape", yes). The two songs on the a-side make up a couple of the best back-to-back songs you'll ever find on a 12-inch: "Compulsion", which davey-lopes along in a way reminiscent of The Fall, and the spastic "Now She's Shakin'", which is about as close as any favorite song of mine is ever going to get to sounding like the fucking Hoodoo Gurus.




Greenhouse of Terror -

"Compulsion"

"Now She's Shakin'"

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You Don't Know What You're Fucking With

I haven't been to a Whitney show since Off With Their Heads last November, so it felt good to go back there last night and catch up on why it's such an awesome place to see a show. The sound is always great, the bands are right in your face, there's plenty of room to sell merch, there's always one or two people willing to do something crazy... which is probably about the same as all the other basement shows around, but unlike bars and clubs, there's always one or two things at every Whitney House show that make it worth showing up.

Last night it was Sister Kisser, from New York, who I'd never heard of before but they just totally rocked my ass off. Even though their demo is pretty good, you'd have to play it full blast in your car with the windows rolled up to get any kind of idea about how heavy these guys are live, because they sure know how to rock the fuck out of their songs. Sister Kisser seems to be approaching things from about the same direction as Get Bent, Iron Chic, Sleepwall, bands like that, but then they take the basic template, add in some Replacements "Stink" and maybe some AC/DC "Back In Black" sped up a little, and turn the rock up to ten. They're on a short tour now of the Northeast (VT, NY, PA, NJ), so go see them if you get the chance and they will kick your ass across the room, I guarantee it.




Hand Grenade Serenade's sound seems to be getting more technical these days; I don't know if they were always that way, or if I'm just starting to notice it more. Not that they're not still a wicked punk band, because they are, only that last night by the end of their set they were sounding like a big, amped-up metal machine. Maybe it's because of the way Genesis plays like Bob Stinson and K.K Downing all rolled into one; the guy's like a freak with a flamethrower in his hands, and I mean that in a good way. Every time I see Hand Grenade Serenade there's always more people getting into them by the end of their set then there was when they first started playing, and last night was no different. Hopefully one of these days they get some of these songs on a CD, and make it loud (like, Motörhead loud) this time.


Sister Kisser -

"Fuck The Doomed"

"Soul Glow"

Hand Grenade Serenade -

"Inkblot"

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All Our Problems Were Solved

I made my way to Two Boots in Bridgeport last night for the first time, and it's a really good set-up they've got going on. First of all, the street in Bridgeport that Two Boots is on is suprisingly vibrant, with a string of cafés, clubs, and restaurants making it look a lot like South Norwalk for at least for half a block or so, (surprising enough to me, at least). Two Boots itself is a somewhat fancy red checkerboard tablecloth-type pizzeria with a long bar and a nice stage in the back; not just some crummy plywood riser, either, but a real stage with overhead track lighting and a red curtain backdrop and so forth. Heinekens are five bucks, though, so don't be expecting any bargains there.

The Inclined Plane, from Hartford, play buzzing '60-influenced lo-fi psych pop, which is a style that I can find either really annoying or really brilliant sometimes, depending upon who's doing it. Fortunately, The Inclined Plane have some good songs; not Medication good, or Titles good, but pretty good songs nonetheless, reminding me of the Lilys or any number of old spinART bands (in fact, the beginning to "Elbow Job" sounds a lot like "Winter Must Be Cold" by Apples In Stereo). The second song they played last night was a cover of "Motor Away", and I had to look at their set list afterwards before I even realized they'd played it, even though it's just about my favorite Guided By Voices song ever.

Anyway, The Inclined Plane have self-released a handful of CDs so far, all with spiffy hand-made packaging and limited to 50 copies each; if you're not from Ct. you might not be able to score one for yourself, but you can still check out some of their tuneage below, including their full 2009 release, "I Am Pants".

"I was reminded of all manner of awesome late punk and new wave bands. The Tyler Trudeau Attempt specialize not only in evoking the sounds of that time, but also the stubborn awkwardness, the difficulty of interpretation. ... You might be able to placate yourself with thoughts that the song structures are at least reasonably poppy — which they are. But then the band comes to a solo, and Trudeau launches into a discordant, Dada-esque destruct-a-thon which, if broadcast, would probably turn every FM receiver into anti-matter." Dan Barry, Hartford Advocate

"All of the guitar solos sound like he's just about to forget how to play." - Beware the Hippie Menace

The Tyler Trudeau Attempt are one of those bands that, when someone writes something about them, it makes them sound a lot more interesting than they actually are. It's like the old Diamond Dave quote, "Rock critics like Elvis Costello because rock critics look like Elvis Costello", which, in the case of The Tyler Trudeau Attempt, is even more apropos (maybe I'll explain why later). Besides the obvious influences-- like Paul Weller, Wreckless Eric, Elvis Costello, and so forth-- Tyler Trudeau's songs bring to mind a whole number of old New Haven-area bands, like the TV Neats, October Days, and The Furors. If you dig Ted Leo then you'll probably dig The Tyler Trudeau Attempt, although I find myself wanting as far as finding any solid rock riffs to offset the lack of hooks, or any abundance of hooks to offset the lack of solid rock riffs, whichever way you want to look at it. Luckily, The Tyler Trudeau Attempt have a kick-ass drummer, which in person goes a long way towards offsetting any lack of muscularity in Tyler's singing and playing.


The Inclined Plane -

"Crack Team"

"It's Not Like I Don't Know"

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You're A Waste Of Time

Five or six years after their first 7" and Halo of Flies were still releasing fierce-sounding records, as evidenced by this 1991 single. Now, six years might not sound like a long time, but what are the chances that your favorite new band today will still be putting out their A-Grade material six years from now? If they're anything like the washed-out fake-indie crap that shows up in my in-box every day, my guess is "no fucking way".

This also happens to be my favorite Halo of Flies 7" sleeve, representing HoF's "Mod" phase or something (maybe it's because they're Mods is why you can barely hear the guitar solo on "Tired & Cold"). I don't know if Henry Owings (see this, by the way, it's great) is going to come in here and give a nod to Haze's particular graphic design on this one, but I thinks he oughta.




Halo of Flies -

"Tired & Cold"

"Wasted Time"

(These files are now listen-only. Also, I don't know why Blogger has such a tough time transferring reds; if you click on the above links and look at the sleeve photo, the red letters are as they should really appear)

All Our Friends Are Hipster Fags

If I thought the Oasis Pub stage was problematic, then seeing bands set up on the lip of a half pipe at the Academy Skate Park last night was definitely an odd proposition, though the bands on the bill seemed to thrive on the challenge. Not that the occasional flying missle-like skateboard was the main issue-- more like equipment accidently falling downwards, though when Josh from Brava Spectre threw his bass over the edge in the middle of a song and then slid down after it, I'm pretty sure it was intentional. The mic stand that fell during Fatal Film's set was more of an accident, though who knows; it actually sounded kinda decent, the way it dragged itself back and forth a few times across the hardwood.




The stage set-up limited the physicality of Brava Spectre's set somewhat, as well as the sound bouncing off the metal walls from the corner they were pressed into, but when I walked outside the building for a bit and heard them from a distance, they sounded pretty damn good. Not that Brava Spectre didn't rock, anyway, as did Fatal Film, who I actually think pulled off the better set. Matt Potter's usual constant bobbing up and down during their set left him pretty close to hitting the speaker/heating duct-type thing that hung within inches of his head, but other than that (and the mic mishap), things went pretty smooth. Fatal Film's set last night was definitely one of my favorite sets that I've seen all year, and I can say that they were really crankin' it, even if they thought that no one was really paying attention.

There were skaters on the half pipe the whole time all three bands were playing, which made the whole show a real blast, plus a few band members even brought their skateboards with them for the little mini-quarter pipe that was behind the main half pipe. I'm not saying they were experts, but Dave from Fatal Film and Josh from Brava Spectre actually know enough to pull off tail drops and kick flips, which impressed me at least. Others weren't so lucky, but cheap beer was definitely a factor so I'll leave it at that.

The Weird Beards also played, and I'll admit that kept my interest even though I had to skip out after the first couple songs of their set. They reminded me somewhat of the Chuck Hestons minus the noisier parts, and I think I'll be checking them out with a bit more dilligence if I get the chance to see them again.

Fatal Film -

"Sick as a Dog"

Brava Spectre -

"Octobird, The Winged Mistress"

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Potter for the win