Main

August 12, 2008

Cavalcade, Into Bolivian

Photobucket

The shit is fucked. No description or review could grant Cavalcade justice. "Off-the-wall retardedness about one or two half breeds could appreciate" is my best whack at it. Fucking smooth jazz with a little puke on vox. Fucking silly shit is what it is. Into Bolivian hurts my cranial nerve, it throws the cerebral cortex off balance, it makes my girlfriend say, "What the fuck is this shit?" I like it, plus dudes are from the dirty glove. Not sure where they got the budget, but the artwork and packaging is phenomenal... now *num-num* people... eat your heart out...

http://www.myspace.com/cavalcadeband

February 21, 2008

Hollywood Blondes, 15 Minutes of Lame

Okay everyone... listen up... this is no brain surgery...

The majority of your bands come from either the east or west coast, right?... RIGHT!... but most often overlooked are your creeper bands from the midwest, right?... RIGHT!

Well wake up fucker!... beware of the shit that festers in the tiny crevices of the midwest, hide your overrated coast bands from the virus that is set to plague all, get down and pray for a cure to ail you from your horribly dry taste in music.

but wait...

you're in luck...

Your friendly physicians over at PenCapChew have found the perfect dose of medicine... it's called 15 Minutes of Lame and it's brought to you by the good ol' boys from Youngstown, Ohio... The Hollywood Blondes!

Photobucket

You and your friends can own this over the counter, easy to use remedy for just around five bucks. With this one time low offer you will receive six of just about the catchiest tunes one will ever hear including my favorites, the heavily "whoa-oh, oh-yeah" Ramones/Riverdales influenced song, Back and Fourth, and song number four, Another Girl, strongly guided by what I can see as Chixdiggit. If this isn't enticing enough then guess what is... the transition between songs... they're smooth, especially song number two gliding into three like a slippery little prick... not to mention how catchy the mother fuckers are. Guitars, drums, the whole shit and caboodle are upbeat and fun. Lyrics are your typical "not-to-serious", sometimes funny, sometimes depressing, satirical type writings about your average day in the life as a pop punker. The vocals consist of your "cutesy" semi-high pitched beltings that sometime go in and out of tune in a way your chick will dig. What's left to do now is witness these fine gents live... hint, hint... michigan is only four hours away buttholes... but whatever ... you get the gist... now commit to these fuckers and we'll guarantee you'll be bopping and singing along to this gem in no time... piece.

January 28, 2008

Fair to Midland- Fables from a Mayfly: What I Tell You Three Times Is True

Fair to Midland.jpgYou know, it’s hard to say anything bad about Fair to Midland.  They’re obviously great musicians who can put out a polished album.  An album, in fact, that was put out on Serj Tankian’s label.  And an album that, in the ranks of major label debuts, places fairly high in terms of production and execution.  Fables from a Mayfly: What I Tell You Three Times Is True is slick, accessible, and goes down easy.  Despite a few chugging riffs, it doesn’t exactly fall under metal, but neither does the nouveau-folksy bent classify it solidly as prog; it’s more along the lines of Coheed and Cambria (probably a common comparison, but an accurate one nonetheless; it’s due to the soaring vocals layered over driving guitars and generous attention to the ride cymbal)- a technical sound, to be sure, but nothing too complex.  It’s heavy in places and has some exotic sounds, but isn’t too experimental.

 

That’s just the problem- it’s not too anything.  It sort of exists in this middle ground of rock, where it’s above average but not exceptional.  There’s nothing wrong about it, but there’s just nothing particularly right about it, either- aside from the album opener, “Dance of the Manatee”- an inspired and ambitious song that spares no technique in exhibiting Fair to Midland’s unquestionable ability- there’s nothing really compelling here.  Nothing that makes a huge impression; nothing that sticks.  You can put on this album and an hour later, not remember anything you heard- you know that you didn’t hate it; maybe you even tapped your foot or hummed along to it a few times.  But did you hear anything you want to go back and hear again?  Probably just “Dance of the Manatee.”  If all the songs on Fables From a Mayfly were as impassioned as its promising opener, it’d be a killer album; as it is, it’s good but will never break Fair to Midland out.  Fortunately, it does establish them as a band who have loads of potential, and whets the whistle for their next offering.  Hopefully next time around, their songwriting will be on par with their technique, and the production will be hands-off enough to just let the talent shine through.

January 17, 2008

The Transit War- Miss Your Face

transitwar.jpg 

Who are The Transit War?  Well, according to their MySpace, they’re “brilliant deceivers.”  Which is a lovely term and all, but a little pretentious for my taste- and I gotta say, doesn’t make them sound like dudes with senses of humor.  I suppose that’s par for the course for another California “post-screampopcoredogdick” band.  I prefer to use the term “post-good” for them, myself.

 

Actually, their self-imposed describer might just be accurate.  These guys have been able to fleece enough of the right guys to show up on MTVU (is that really a channel?  Really?), so clearly they’re good at making someone outside the band believe that their album, Miss Your Face, is worth listening to.

 

Don’t get me wrong.  They’re not awfully, terribly bad.  In fact, they’re even so not-bad that if someone were to put this on at a party, I wouldn’t immediately grak and go hit the advance button on the iPod or anything.  I’d probably quietly mosey over after a song or two and start looking at which other bands were on it, hoping that the host would notice and say, “Oh, if there’s anything you like, go ahead and play it.  I just put on whatever,” or maybe just discreetly change to Snow Patrol at the end of the song.  Or if someone whose taste I respected wanted me to check them out, I’d be, like, “yeah, I’ve heard them.  They were alright; I could listen to it if I had to.  Well produced and all.   I’m just not that into songs that don’t demonstrate particularly impressive musicianship or songwriting ability.”  As an asshole music fan and “reviewer,” I’m required by law to tack that last sentence on.

 

You like those Taking Back Sunday guys?  Maybe a little +44?  Well, The Transit War might be your bag, then.  And you know, that’s okay.  You’ll grow out of it.  Could be worse, I guess.  You could be listening to Saves The Day, and that’s a hard one to shake off later in life.