Album Review: The Gooch Palms-Novo’s


Holy. Fucking. Shit. Holy. Fucking. Shit. No, that was not a simple control-paste mistake, I have more journalistic integrity than that. This record is just so fucking good that it is inherently necessary to repeat oneself in complete gobsmacked appreciation. Honestly, listening to this thing, you basically just want to go find this band and follow them around for life, with the small glimmer of hope that you can caress their genius. The Gooch Palms craft perfect garage. Let me repeat that: perfect garage. Absolutely perfect, there is no fault, no fuck up, no shoddy workmanship. Why? Because The Goochies pride themselves on their faults, their fuck-ups and shoddy workmanship. They put it out all on display: they smacked-out guitar riffs, the contemporary-bogan-meets-1970’s punk vocals, the drumming that has the consistency of a Newcastle steel factory circa-the glory days…it’s all there. Everything you could want in a record. NIHILISM! FUN! GARGANTUAN CATCHINESS! It’s all fucking there.

In case you’re the kind of person that reads the entire Itunes Terms and Conditions agreement before clicking ‘I Agree’, here’s a further analysis of what makes His & Her Royal Goochiness rock n roll legends with their album ‘Novo’s’. The album opens with perhaps it’s best song ‘We Get By’ (I say perhaps, because this is an album comparable to ‘Nevermind’ or whatever, and these records are fucking full of ‘best songs’). ‘We Get By’ is romantically simplistic, providing a lovingly youthful outset on life, following the age-old adage of ‘it’s just me and you, and that’s all right’ WHICH IS COINCIDENTALLY THE CHORUS OMG GUYZ THIS SONG SPEAKS TO ME!. ‘We Get By’ is just such a well crafted song, it is mind-blowing that doves don’t burst out of trees in a perfect V every time this song plays (Get your shit together doves).

The record progresses with a bunch more songs that makes the heart swell, the eyes close in orgasmic pleasure, and all of time slow to GMT (Goochies Mean Time). There are a lot of themes that present themselves. Firstly, there’s the theme of ‘How fucking great is it to be in a band?!’, as shown in ‘Loudest Mouth’, a stormy, brat punk track that gives Cyndi Lauper a run for her money. Secondly, there’s the nods to their hometown of Newcastle. The record’s called Novo’s, which is apparently a derogatory term for the Newcastle folk. Well, the title track is a jarring thing, churning out a rhythm that blasts with the power of a Mortal Kombat special move, and ‘Hunter Street Mall’, a love song to Newcastle boredom, features one of my favourite aspects of The Gooch Palms: the yelps of ecstasy that sound like Kermit the Frog getting high on helium and jizzing at the same time. Musical perfection. Finally, there’s power ballads…and these bad boys sound better than David Lee Roth personally coming to your house and howling into your ear for hours on end. ‘You’ and ‘Don’t Cry’ are two fucking brilliant tracks, and show that The Goochies don’t just go full pelt into headlong wreckin’ oblivion, like T-Rex’s on a velociraptor rampage. Nup, the Goochies can slow dance with you at your prom with the best of them. They may be rockin’ heart-shaped sunnies and a Ramones t-shirt, but fuck you if you don’t believe for one second that they’ll give you the best waltz you’ve ever had.

To conclude, this album is, yep I’ll say it again, perfection. It is objective perfection. There is nothing wrong with this album, everything is just right. The Gooch Palms play and sing what they know. They won’t bullshit you with some glossed over fuckwad of a tune, they will just pelt out a heartfelt bulldozer of a track that will crush your mind with gooey appreciation. Listening to The Gooch Palms is like heroin or Disney Land: one hit and it will change your fucking life. You’ll be able to brush the dirt off and say to yourself ‘Well, I may be infested with seven different STI’s, owe half a million in unpaid parking fees, and have a foetus growing out of my left nostril, but at least I got the Goochies!’.

Go buy this fucking album. That’s a fucking order. It’ll be available at your local record store, on CD and vinyl. ‘Novo’s’ ‘officially’ came out on Friday 4th October, but it’s been available for at least a week. So now, you have no excuse not to own this slice of holiness.

And to catch this slice of holiness live and in the flesh, all one needs to do is hop along to Hotel Street on Friday 11th October, where the Goochies will be wreaking absolute havoc.


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