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Lately I've been waiting for that awesome big something to come along, smack the last of the awful sickness I've had out of my face (I was down for the count with who-knows-what for a week) and, by extension, give me something actually sick to write about. Thursday comes along and in my emailbox appears a note from the STATS dudes offering up their latest e.p., Marooned.
Not so many weekends ago, while hanging out with bassist Tony Gedrich (who also plays in Extra Life, worth checking out), Tony busted out the unmastered recordings. A bunch of us rocked out to them and probably drooled a little more than Tony was expecting, so I had baseline expectation of what I was gonna hear. Also, STATS has been playing this stuff for their past few live shows, but one can never quite be sure how it's all going to transition from the live set to the recorded tapes.
Well I can now unequivocally state that this three-song, 19 minute e.p. is bloody-nose inducing. They really cranked the low-end here for maximum womp. There's no way to say this without sounding like a total tool, but STATS is fucking groovy. Groovy math. You wanna get a bunch of epileptics with Tourettes to boogie? This is the perfect band for that. Give them earplugs, too, because it's necessary.
Big dumb smiling, mouth-breathing, gut-evisceratin' jazz tunes. These guys are friends of mine and perhaps the nicest guys around and always a hoot to play shows with; I've called them the most underrated band in Brooklyn and I stand by that. STATS creates the most thouroughly thought out goofball music that's not actually goofy or stupid, but just what awesome rock 'n' roll music should be. For thinkin' folks. Mischievously dark and, yet, positive. It's gonna give your kids their first cigarette, show 'em dirty magazines and help with homework just to keep on your good side. Because they look like good kids and yours shouldn't be hanging around with those dirty long hairs down the street with the illegal firecrackers.
Not murderers or rapists!
So now that I've said all this crap, how do you get your hands on Marooned? At the moment they have it available for free download, all you have to do is email them at [statsbrooklyn at gmail.com] and they'll send you the link. Then go donate some money to them for their efforts (paypal info will be in the email) because they put way too much effort into making these awesome songs extra awesome. To get a feel for what this is all about visit their myspace where they've posted the track "Yo King". I dare you to try and get it out of your head. I also dare you to figure out how they piece their songs together because, frankly, I find the prospect of an actual answer too daunting and frigtening to ask them.
I probably won't be writing anything for a couple days because I'm prepping for this. It's gonna be awesome. Come join us if you can. It's free.
I'm almost a month behind the ball (John Kruk testicle draperies?) on getting my act together regarding the latest installment of Melvins-Are-The-Greatest-Band-On-Earth, so please pardon my tardiness. My first listen to Nude With Boots just wrapped up and the sun started poking through the clouds and I have a bit of psylocybin that awaits: my mood is rather dandy. Now because it took me so long to get my hands on the record (hell, I got my tickets to see them over a week ago), there's not really any point in me "reviewing" the album. Plenty of other folks have done that already so you can go read what they wrote. I'm just here to tell you two things:
1) Buy Nude With Boots
2) Get your tickets to see them immediately
Now a bunch of folks have given this record less than stellar reviews—to Buzz's dismay as well as mine—but no matter, any person with a modicum of good taste in aural delights is sure to realize what a knockout we have here. It was pointed out by the band themselves that if some upstart young band came out with this album we wouldn't need to worry about global warming floods because the amount of saliva gushing from the mouths of music writers would inundate major coastal cities. Alas what we have is another amazing Melvins record in a long line of amazing Melvins records. (A) Senile Animal was awesome, particularly because of the added Big Business section, but now that they've toured together nearly non-stop for two years they've learned how to read each other as practitioners of the true ancient sorcery. Folks who have already got to see them on their current tour have responded more than favorably which is why, if they haven't come through your area already, you need to seriously take my advice from advice-point #2 above and buy your ticket.
In related news, thanks to Hank over at Dark Forces Swing Blind Punches, I was turned on to the Paper Thin Walls site. If you head over there you can stream the whole album and read about some of the songwriting quirks behind this album. Go check that out.
Thanks for stopping by, enjoy the rest of your sunday, and have a great week (I'll probably be working 6 days, which will be kinda boring, probably). Also, Red Sox, for the love o' Pete, please beat the fucking Yankees today.
I had seen the name Made Out Of Babies floating around on show listings for some time, but I hadn't given much thought into looking into them at all until recently. A few days back I read a rather promising interview/review of their latest record (it officially drops tomorrow, 6/24), The Ruiner.
The band members' pedigree plus the fact their earlier work was released by Neurot intrigued me, so I was pleased to find that my roommate had a promo copy.
Beyond being pleased by the relative ease with which I landed the album, I thoroughly enjoyed what I heard. Let's not kid ourselves, Made Out Of Babies is a less-than-stellar band name, but whatever, it works for them and they seem to be doing just fine with it (there are worse names, to be sure). The review that I had read only vaguely hinted at the music imprinted in those tiny grooves, so all I knew to expect was female vocals from a band that, to paraphrase, jelled through a shared love of The Jesus Lizard. Now I must say that this record hardly sounds at all like that band (though early records may, I haven't gotten those yet), but it is dark, it has a distinct AmRep feel to it and it definitely rocks. Really, the first notable comparison I made was with heavier, later Milemarker sans-dance beats. The low end here is quite prominent with a chunkier bass distortion that contrasts perfectly with the flowing nature of the bass lines. The drums complement the bass as well, with constant pummelling rhythms emanating from some primal urge. As far as the rhythm section goes, the cavepeople cover art makes complete sense. I wouldn't immediately say the same for the guitars, but on second thought they are properly buzzed and melted together into a grafittoed wall, maybe early cave art; you can make out the details, however primitive at points, and the riffs are solid as rock.
What really ties the room together, however, are the vocals. I don't mean to harp on the fact that they're, "ooh, how novel, female vocals on a heavy record!" Singer Julie Christmas has the haunting voice of some childlike demon you don't want to encounter on your own. Hers is the siren voice that lured ancient sailors to their last breaths. Strong presence overall and a featherlight touch when necessity beckons, she really makes this band, because I can't imagine how male vocals could work with this material and really do it justice. She is the perfect counterweight to the leaden machine behind her. A really well engineered and produced record that should easily make it onto "top album" lists at the end of this year.
