Video: Black Lips-Boys In the Wood

The Black Lips and Thee Oh Sees are similar in a whole bunch of ways-two of my favourite garage bands, always pushing forth a unique brand of rock n roll, amazing live shows. But they also tie together in that they barely ever make music videos, but when they do, they produce some of the best shit known to man

I’m not kidding, the clip for new track ‘Boys In the Wood’ is amongst the best music videos I’ve ever seen, in my entire life. I’m actually hoping they turn this into a full length movie of some sorts, soundtracked only by The Black Lips, The Cramps, Diarrhea Planet and other dirty rock n roll bands from the wastelands of America.

Why is this video so essential? It’s like a mix of the pre-vampire action of From Dusk ‘Til Dawn’ in the Titty Twister and the gypsy scenes from Snatch. However, its all played in a horror-filled, terrifying gangster vision filtered through a murderous red plaster. A bunch of Riff-Raff imitators take turns taking hits of a homemade crack pipe, there’s some nonchalant narcolepsy, and a shitty drug dealer gets his head completely smouldered by a baseball bat. All done with unflattering graphic detail. If you think Quentin Tarantino is for pussies, you need to watch this video immediately.

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Video: No Art-Forest

There is some exponentially sad news for the Sydney music scene that doesn’t involve the lockouts. One of the hardest working and often-performing bands No Art are calling it a day. No longer will they be playing their amazing sets for the enjoyment of all in attendance. I’m just fucking stoked I got to catch them a couple times before this apocalyptic day came to pass.

However, with such a tragedy comes a small toked of amazing, namely their new video for their track ‘Forest’. Coming from a gothy shoegaze band like No Art, the result is an expected trip through awesome. The song resonates with hearty, sinister power, ebbing like a Liars track performed by Kim Gordon.

The video features a bunch of tripped out shit that seems like it would appear in a Savages video directed by Yoko Ono during a phase were she’s really into the Cure and Bret Easton Ellis. But No Art got to it first. Good on ya guys!

No Art will be playing their final show at Black Wire Records (duh!) on Friday, February 14th. Making and Duck Duck Chop (!) will also be there. Make sure you get on that shit!

 

Video(s): Jagwar Ma + Client Liaison + Sable

Some audio-visual delights for a Friday arvo.

Jagwar Ma-Uncertainty

Jagwar Ma are pretty fucking huge right now. I mean, they were wayyyy bigger off the back of their debut album ‘Howlin’, but the music industry is a fickle she-wench, and Jagwar Ma have dropped from the collective conscience a bit. However, they should be right back there with the new video for their track ‘Uncertainty’.

Most people remember the band for their Madchester-like tracks, but ‘Uncertainty’ is way more alike to the indie-dance floor staples of the present. Think Oscar Key Sung fronting The Chemical Brothers recent stuff. ‘Uncertainty’ has a mind-melting chorus that’s like Black Moth Super Rainbow minus the reverb-drench, and the general vibe is a seductive, sex-fuelled journey on a synth spaceship.

As for the video, well it’s deplorably awesome. Blue horizons jettisoning overhead as the boys do their thing on a bunch of instruments from the future, and spiders crawling over to cop a geez at whatever those awesome sounds are.

Client Liaison-Free of Fear

Recently, there’s been a whole bunch of indie-electronic acts that are re-inventing the sounds of the past for ultimate payoff. Think World’s End Press, Architecture in Helsinki and the aforementioned Jagwar Ma. But Client Liaison rise above them all, because not only do they adopt the sounds of late, but they adopt the stylistic roles and attitudes of the era as well.

Watching the video for Client Liaison’s brand new video is like being transported to some alternative version of Mad Max. There’s still the desert, lack of cars and mullets, but then there’s also the dashings of Miami Vice drug dealer in there. Neon suits, vast displays of lush power, Frida Kahlo x Cleopatra dancers… It’s basically living out the ultimate 80’s dream. If the characters of Wall Street were really eccentric, they’d probably have made this video.

Sable-Feels So Good

Speaking of retro, check out the fucking mad video for Sable’s single ‘Looks So Good’. Except instead of bad suits and mid afternoon beverages, it’s a transportation into any arcade video game of the mid 80’s. Imagine if you could be transported into Space Invaders, Tron-style, and check out the inner-workings of the alien spacecraft, and their exact schedulings of dropping in uninvited on Planet Earth.

Meanwhile, the music whirs on in the background, accompanying the flurrying images with as much bright colour as those piercing synth chords can. Basically, what you’re looking at is a super-awesome-happy-fun-times experiment, funded by SABLE Corp.

New: Cloud Nothings-I’m Not Part of Me

Holy fuck balls stick on a dingo baby’s asshole! New Cloud Nothings right!? Didn’t expect for this to rock up and make me prematurely lose my shit in the middle of class.

However, it did, and I have no regrets, because it’s a super awesome mad track. That’s the highest level of madness a song can receive, by the way. It achieves that rank because ‘I’m Not Part of Me’ combines both the romantic dreaminess of Cloud Nothing’s self-titled record with the Steve Albini-influenced post-punk of their 2012 record ‘Attack on Memory’.

You may be wondering how good a thing that could possibly be. Let me tell you that this is fucking awesome news, because a combination like that allows for the song to be both catchier than a ball thrown by a sloth, and hard-rocking enough to be able to get people ultra-moshing!

Album Review: Blank Realm-Grassed Inn

Blank Realm are the weirdest pop band from Terra Nullis, and that’s simply because they don’t give a fuck. Not in the way that the usual garage bands don’t give a fuck-Blank Realm aren’t the sort to thrash around until something with a pulse rocks up to party. No, they don’t give a fuck in the sense that they’ll try anything, consequences aside.

‘Grassed Inn’ is the Brisbane group’s…second album? Fourth album? There’s so many different sources out there, I’m actually not even sure anymore. What’s important though is that the band are more focused and literate than any other releases. Usually, a Blank Realm record will have a bunch of Zombies/Big Star-ish singles, amongst a bunch of really weird shit that will either piss you off or drift by pleasantly, depending on what kind of mood you’re in. This record pretty much only features the super awesome pop stuff.

However there is still a share of feedback and improv driven experimentalism occurring throughout the album. For example, the track ‘Reach You On the Phone’ has a deceptively bright line ringing through the whole thing, a dual vocal chorus, and is catchier than a bout of crabs at a porn star convention. But listen to those lyrics! “I pretend I’m stoned and dead, just to escape that sense of dread,’… doesn’t that sting with a little bit too much truth? And that longing chorus of ‘Baby, I can’t reach you on the phone” rings out with such sincerity and loss, it’s like watching a baby penguin crying out for its mother. Hold that image in your brain, and then try not to break down in a geyser of tears.

There’s going to be similar mental reactions amongst a couple of the tracks, like ‘Baby Close the Door’ and ‘Bulldozer Love’, although the effect is more subtle as the music takes place. The former uses a harsh shrill cry every couple of seconds to remind the listener that they’re listening to some harrowing shit, and the latter is basically an eight minute build-up into MBV-lite musical textures.

Only with the big single ‘Falling Down the Stairs’ do things start to look up, at least on a surface level. This track is so bright and bouncy, with a honky key line that could’ve been ripped right from a carnival ride. And the rhythms are so infectious, you’re pretty much submerged in happiness. The chorus is shout-along worthy, and more addictive than 3am kebabs.

However, ‘Falling Down the Stairs’ is pretty much the exception to the rule. The rest of ‘Grassed Inn’ sways along, breezing by with the kind of charm that comes all to rarely. Strange, Eastern-sounding psychedelic riffs and glitches appear on ‘Violet Delivery’ and ‘Back to the Flood’ is the fastest song on the album by far, but the feeling is one of sombre resignation. It’s like the band are more focused on singing about the things that have happened and can never change, rather than having any desire to change.

What does that last sentence mean in terms of how good this album is? It means that finally, the slacker-pop bible is being filled out in an interesting, layered and original way. Blank Realm are a pop band but they write some downer stuff. Their music is about as aesthetically removed from traditional rock and pop as one can get. Every track rings with difference and authenticity. Instead of the usual ‘I got stoned today and I’m on the dole’, Blank Realm add so much more, incorporating feeling, movement, and texture. They don’t only provide the ‘What?’ factor that most bands utilise to resonate with their audience, but also the ‘Who?’, ‘Why?’ and ‘How?’. And the answers they come up with aren’t pretty in the slightest, no matter how much Blank Realm mask it with their upbeat, sonic tunes. Naive and twee as they might come off to the uninitiated, Blank Realm are at a more exploratory yet focused point in their musical careers than they ever have been, and have produced one of the most harrowingly original pop records in a long, long time.

To get amongst it, you can get a copy of ‘Grassed Inn’ at Bedroom Suck Records right here. 

New Australian Music: The Preatures + POND + King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard + Pirates Alive + Horror My Friend

In celebration of ‘Straya Day, where everyone in the nation gets drunk and berates the Hottest 100, I compiled a bunch of awesome new tracks by some of this nation’s finest. And then I delayed the shit out of posting it. ‘STRAYA!

The Preatures-Better Than It Ever Could Be

In my own opinion, The Preatures released the best pop song of last year, with their single ‘Is This How You Feel?’ coming in at #9 on the Hottest 100. That’s just one of the many accolades that particular song has received, but because they are by no means a one hit wonder, The Preatures have gone ahead and released another song entitled ‘Better Than It Ever Could Be’.

I feel like this is kind of a reaction to the band’s year in 2013. It was basically the best year a blossoming young band could hope for. And to celebrate, they penned a song that showcases what they do best: a shimmering, loud and happy pop track. It reminds you of a Cocoa Cola advert done by Blondie or something. A giant bottle of coke explodes like a volcano, and Debbie Harry rocks sunglasses and the sun shines, and everyone is impossibly happy. Because ‘Better Than It Ever Could Be’ brings that image to mind, it gets a 10/10.

POND-Colouring the Streets

Motherfucking POND. Is there any other band quite like them. The short answer is no, because they are a shapeshifting group of wizard musicians, and you’d be a fool to fuck with whatever powerful elixir pumps through their veins.

Even though they released a record last year, the jizz-inducing ‘Hobo Rocket’, they’ve released a brand new track for a compilation, the song being ‘Colouring the Streets’. This track tends towards the softer psych side of POND, the Slowdive-counterpart to the balls out Bowie that the band are more well-known for.

Don’t worry, the reverb drenches this bad boy like a squirting porn star, and the jizz-levels are still at an all-time high. So, really, there’s nothing more but to let yourself drop into that coma in the only way a band like POND can.

King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard-Vegemite

How fucking ‘Strayan is this!? It’s a song that’s chorus goes ‘I liiiiiiiikkkkeeeeee Vege-miiiiiite!’ over a thunderous, psychedelic platter of instruments. And its executed by one of the finest bands this side of Sabbath.

That’s right, the eight-piece monolith King Jizz are at it again, having announced a new record and pushing ‘Vegemite’ into the world to be the first taste of said record.

Despite the ‘Annoying Orange’ set up of the video clip, ‘Vegemite’ rules harder than Uncle Chopper riding a Chopper (motorbike) into a Chopper (helicopter) whilst T-rexes clap politely in the background.

Pirates Alive-Love Drunk

Whilst King Gizz alternate between a whole bunch of styles, Pirates Alive are a go-to garage band for me. If ever I want to hear some back to basics, super-simple surf rock, Pirates Alive are one of my first ports of call. See what I did there? Hueh, hueh, hueh.

Anyway, ‘Love Drunk’ reminds me a fuckload of ScotDrakula, Step-Panther and Dune Rats. There’s  just casual riffing, an emboldened bass line and an Aussie slacker accent tying it together. The chorus of ‘Ah’s is a technique that’s used in pretty much every garage song, but when something remains as fun as it did since the 60’s, why the fuck would you change it?

Basically, ‘Love Drunk’ is the summer garage track that’s missing from your life right now.

Horror My Friend-Nothing

And now, for some spidery but striding post-punk from Radelaide. Horror My Friend sound a bit like Die! Die! Die!, which is another way of saying they sound absolutely fucking rad.  It’s also a little bit back-in-the-day emo, circa Taking Back Sunday, without all the cutting yourself imagery.

Their new single ‘Nothing’ combines toe-tapping high-hats with a sludgy bass and climbing guitar riffs. And then that chorus hits, and you have an intuitive feeling that if you’re not moshing, even by yourself on the toilet, then you’re wasting your time, and you should be listening to a Greatest Hits by Michael Buble instead.

New Alternative Music: The Soft Moon + Roku Music + The Dirty Nil + PILE + Taka Perry

Ermahgerd Erlterhnertive Merzik. Ferk yer!

The Soft Moon-Feel

Seriously, new Soft Moon material is to me what a new Doctor in Dr Who is to people that have too much time on their hands. I’m unbelievably stoked that this guy has decided to put out some more stuff, and, spoiler alert, it is pretty amazeballs.

It starts out like a cross between New Order and The Residents in a dingy S&M club in the suburbs, highly strung out and a little sinister. Then the lyrics of ‘I feel like I’m dying inside, I feel so shallow inside’, and it’s right back to the normal Soft Moon territory. If you’re a fan of Cold Cave or The KVB, you should have no problem with the super-nihilism and screeching bass grooves. However, if you’re uninitiated in the ways of darkwave, then let this be a fantastic introduction.

Roku Music-Collider

The first we heard from Sonic Masala Records (probably the greatest thing that has happened for Brisbane since Violent Soho) was a fucking orgasm-laden tune from Gazar Strips. For their second release, the label have gone with the decidedly 90’s shoegaze-revivalists Roku Music.

Slow-burning doesn’t even begin to describe Roku Music. If you had a single flame that slowly grew into a blaze that covered the entire galaxy, powered solely by Kevin Shields, then you’d have something along the lines of ‘Collider’. It just gets bigger and more epic, sliding into your brain in the only way those buxom shoegaze songs can. For a point of reference, think Day Ravies crossed with a reverb drenched Pixies. If that doesn’t get you tingling in strange places, then you are not a functioning human.

The Dirty Nil-Wrestle Yü to Husker Dü

There are only two bands out there who have pulled off the umlaut successfully: Motörhead and Husker Dü. That’s it. No other bands can pull off the umlaut, because they simply do not have the badass potential to do so.

Luckily, The Dirty Nil have released the lack of hope there is in trying to place an umlaut in your band name, and have instead gone with referencing one of the greats. They’ve also managed to work in a great song title. Man, I wish there was someone out there that would wrestle with me to Zen Arcade.

As if all this wasn’t enough, they’ve topped everything off with a fucking awesome song that makes the term ‘angst-ridden’ pack up its emo-makeup and walk home to listen to Black Veil Brides until 10:30 pm, when the internet connection gets turned off.

A heavy, brooding bass-line, simple riff and bombastic drum part all smash together, tied down by a fucking amazing chorus of ‘I don’t care!’. ‘Wrestle Yü to Husker Dü’ pretty much the ultimate alternative rock song. If this had been released in the 90’s, The Dirty Nil would have been spending more time washing their hands from all the grubby meet ‘n’ greets with turdy major label execs than actually making this music that is balls deep in awesome.

PILE-Special Snowflakes

If you want to get a crash course in Boston’s current music scene, then you need to know about three bands: Speedy Ortiz, Fat History Month and PILE. The latter have just released a new 7″, the title track of which is pretty fucking great.

The song itself is seven minutes long, so its basically guaranteed that there’s going to be a musical journey of sorts, because PILE aren’t a group who’s songs exist on a single bullshit loop that goes for fucking forever. Instead, you’ve got a quiet, meandering intro that slowly raises itself into a shredder masterpiece. It’s like an alternative version of an At The Drive-In song, with the same pounding urgency and genius lyrics. Although a long song, its hard not to let your hands slam down on whatever flat surface you happen to be near whenever the snares kick in with the alertness of a college student that’s just taken 15 Ritalin to ‘prepare’ for the upcoming exams.

Taka Perry-LIFEFORMS

Fucking ages ago now, when I was but a wee fuckhead, I heard about this 14 year old kid from Canberra making some decent-sized instrumental stuff. Safe to say, I haven’t grown up, but just taking a geez at his new single, and it becomes blatantly obvious that this guy is going places.

He’s moved away from the slower, proggy stuff that he first established himself with, and instead has gone a little more of the way of ‘THE METAL’. There is some serious shredding taking place here. Who knows what made young Mr. Perry want to obliterate guitar strings with such ferocity. Although there are some moments of brief respite, the Godspeed!-like action on display is what elevates this song to severe levels of interest.

Mixtape(s): Hand Games + Peking Tapes Summer Mixtape

Today, not one, but TWO brand new mixtapes. If you’re of the ‘Fuck Triple J’ mindset and are in the midst of organising a coup of the Triple J Hottest 100, then get amongst these indie gems.

Hand Games Mix #18 January

The first thing that will strike you about the new, flawless Hand Games mixtape is the cute as fuck cover. Jesus Christ, all other cute things may as well go kill themselves in an orgy of blood. Because there is fucking nothing, repeat fucking nothing, that is goddamn cuter than a pink baby elephant hoarding doughnuts. Seriously, cat videos of the internet, throw in the towel, your reign as ‘Cute Internet Thing’ is over.

But onto the music, the main attraction of this deliciously amazing playlist. Due to this playlist, Blank Realm’s ‘Falling Down the Stairs’ has become my favourite song of the month. And regular bands that appear on Soundly Sounds ScotDrakula, Royal Headache and Snowy Nasdaq are here as well with some truly orgasm-inducing tracks.

As usual, the pop and electronica contingent in Hand Games is very strong, with Elizabeth Rose, Safia, Noah Slee and Hubert Clark Jr. making solid cases as to why the electro-pop format is winning hearts and minds everywhere.

And in terms of the darker, weirder shit that makes my pants bulge there’s The Babe Rainbow (awesome name), Home Travel, Emerse, and the spectacularly strange Romi. Seriously, check out Romi’s shit, it makes a one-eyed-purple people eater look like the squarest piece of shit.

HAND GAMES IS FREE, SO GET ON THAT SHIT!

Peking Tapes-Summer Lovin’ 2013

The next glance through the porthole to majestic perfection comes courtesy of Peking Tapes, and features a shit load of artists you’ve never heard of, but will thoroughly enjoy. The reason you’ll have never heard of these artists is because they’re all more underground than a mole who’s only into Neutral Milk Hotel demo tapes.

The shit on here is wondrous in so many ways, glorifying the alternative scene in Melbourne to dizzying heights. Every song on here always makes me feel jittery inside, and the fact that I’m only hearing about these artists now makes it all the better. With the exception of Snowy Nasdaq’s subtle ‘Fucking’, Wizard Oz’s stellar cover of TV Colours’ ‘Bad Dreams’ and the chameleonic Zombie Psychologist, I had no clue of any of these bands.

So surprise, fucking surprise, when I go through a compilation from one of the best tape labels in Australia, and discover a bunch of my new favourite artists. From the wholesome Clean-jangle of Big Tobacco, to the organ-driven dream pop of Cat Cat, to the disorientating math rock of  Pioneers of Good Science and the James-Mercer-on-heroin beauty of Coloured Clocks’ ‘Brick’, there is no point in this entire mixtape where the mind isn’t completely absorbed. This sort of musical genius is usually buried under layers and layers of in-the-know, but thanks to Peking Tapes, it has been uncovered for the likes of you and I to feast our greedy ears upon.

GET ON PEKING TAPES SUMMER LOVING, COS ITS BETTER THAN A HANDJOB FROM TOUCH SENSITIVE AND IT’S FREE!

Gig Review: The Stevens w/ Bed Wettin’ Bad Boys + Day Ravies + Nathan Roche Band

Friday, 17th of January @ The Red Rattler Theatre

Not even 24 hours after arriving back in Sydney after admiring the wonders and delights of Sri Lanka, I was re-admiring the wonders and delights of the best venue in Sydney. The motherfudgin’ Stevens were finally getting around to launching their debut LP in Sydney, and since I missed them at Sound Summit, there was no way that Heaven, Hell or dysentery was going to stop me from getting to this gig.

Arrival + 5 minutes later, and Nathan Roche, one of the best blokes this city has to offer is up on the six inch-high stage, selling his wares, this time with a full band in tow (including Greg from Adults!). Watching a Nathan Roche show always comes with the feeling of being cocooned by a comforting normalcy, but this time there was something more. With the full band, Roche no longer had to hold down the show completely on his own. Similar to fellow solo-artist mindblower Angie, when Roche has his band there to back him up, he can move more freely around stage, and it feels as though the spotlight is less on him. Therefore, those fucking brilliant tracks like ‘Serafina’ and ‘You Are What You Are’ seem to carry that much more oomph. Instead of the shaky everyman, Roche’s band becomes a swaggering train of good vibes and balls-out slacker pop.

After Nathan Roche’s conquering set, Day Ravies hit the stage to impress all in attendance one more time. And look, I’ve said it once, I’ll say it a billion fucking times: Day Ravies rule. On record, they’ve got a whimsical, wistful flair that is rarely executed with such charm. And in the live setting, that charisma gets played out in the form of darling pixie dreaminess.

Every time I watch Day Ravies, one specific member always catches my eye, and in this case it was Lani Crooks, the band’s keys player. She fucking exudes genuine-ness like the reincarnation of Martin Luther King Jr. or Patti Smith. Up on stage, playing her keys and singing, she really embodies the vibe of Day Ravies, the spirit of quiet achievement, of being super humble about songs that frankly are not getting the recognition they deserve (case in point: ‘I Don’t Mind’)

After being whisked away by Day Ravies’ performance, it was time to get bolted to reality with the start of Sydney royalty The Bed Wettin’ Bad Boys. A band as indebted to The Replacements as every shitty pop-punk band is to Blink-182, the Bad Boys completely rocked the stage of The Rattler, in a way that I feel embarrassed to use such a cliche. They four-piece stood there, stoic and brave like the original Tonto, and played their fucking hearts out. Although to be fair, anyone who’s seen the Bed Wetters before knows that these guys don’t fuck around.

photo 1

Actually, that last bit’s a lie. There was probably the most audience participatory small talk, courtesy of frontman/RIP Society label owner Nick Warnock. A fucking legend, the guy managed to belt out a slurry of bed-wettin’-worthy hits like ‘Devotion’, ‘Bite My Tongue’ and ‘Any Day Now’. It was all I could do to keep my jaw from completely unhinging itself in the presence of such a great rock band.

After re-attaching my eyes to normalcy, I promptly lost them to the amazeballs of The Stevens performance. The Melbournites may only have songs with an average of two minutes, but fuck do they make every second count. They’re songs are like Twerps tracks filled with a youthful desire to be the biggest smartass possible. And best of all, the tunes cover a wide variety of topics, emotions and styles, never staying in the relatively neutral territory of slacker-pop.

photo 2

Oh yeah, and these guys give out charm like they’re the Lucky Charm’s mascot. However, its a very different kind of charming than Day Ravies. Instead, its the kind of charm that you pick up from your mate that’s never been rejected by a girl in his life, and he manages to be incredibly cool without trying. What I’m trying to say is, The Stevens are like the early Fonzi’s of the Melbourne scene. Which makes sense considering how fucking great their songs are. Have you checked out ‘From ‘Puberty to Success’? Or ‘Teenage Satellites’? Or debut album genital-tearing tear jerker ‘Hindsight’? Did you listen to those fucking crazy ass tracks? And did your mind shatter into a thousand pieces of orgasm? And can you imagine how fucking great that shit was live? The reason I’m speaking in rhetorical questions is because its actually impossible to relay how great The Stevens played that night, and if you weren’t there, then it sucks to be you.

This gig was fucking awesome *drops mic, walks off stage, Eminem song begins to fade in*

Album Review: Bachelor Pad-Dooming Out

Bachelor Pad, that garage band from Sydney. There hasn’t been a sentence with so much synonymous debauchery attached to it since the last time Ozzy Osborne decided to go to Las Vegas.

They’ve been kicking around for quite a while now, with their melodic yet scrummy garage rock hooking anyone close enough to be within earshot. They’re brand is friendly like those American indie-fuzz bands like Philistines, Diarrhea Planet and Roomrunner, but there’s a punk edge to them that increases the attraction to jizzworthy levels. Imagine if John Dwyer fronted a Sydney-based Murder City Devils featuring members of The Gooch Palms? That’s the kind of shit that Bachelor Pad bring to mind, and its such an orgasmically holy thought, it almost makes me want to keel over and vomit.

Now, onto the album in question ‘Dooming Out’. Although they’ve got two other ‘albums’ worth of material, this one is being considered their debut. Because fuck maths. Hey, I never passed that course in high school, so who am I to argue. Anyway, this shit is fucking off chops. You know when a record starts off with an orgasmic little surf rock riff, indulges itself into a smorgasbord of fuzz, and then lyrically starts with “Yeah my girl, doesn’t know I exist”….well, basically, its hard to remain a cynical dick about something so fucking geared towards everything that resonates with me.

But personal tastes aside, Bachelor Pad have put out a damn fine garage rock record worthy of all the praise that I’m about to heap on it. This isn’t just another jizz-worthy article of fuzz and reverb over topics like girls, beer and fucking up. Instead, its a jizz factory. There’s ballads, there’s punk rock blitzkriegs and there’s mindless drone-alongs made for shaking your long hair back and forth because you’re such a fucking rebel. Its a beautiful thing to witness as track after track amps you up even further, like some sort of ten course meal that forces you to keep eating until you’re a bloated and delighted twisted image of your former self.

Bachelor Pad rule for the simple reasons that their songs are both short ‘n’ sweet rock jams, and they never overstay their welcome. And the best one’s are perfectly resonating with the kind of inner city loser that I myself happen to be. ‘Fried‘ is a fun-as-fuck jam that beats around the bullshit in approximately a minute and a half, with the main message being, ‘fuck it, life sucks, let’s get fried’. ‘Let Me Go’, a slightly longer track that cracks over the two minute mark, is a robust, Ramones-like jam that goes heavy on the chorus and crashing cymbals, a purpose-built shout along sassy track that would make a heavy-metal version of Destiny’s Child blush with shame. And then there’s ‘Moving On’, a track that recalls the best era of Wavves and Times New Viking. Just a super fun track that is actually dripping with misery about the inevatable moment where you’re the only kid who hasn’t grown out of bongs and still refuses to get a ‘proper’ job.

Between these tracks that are, believe it or not, basically the longest on the record, there are a whole bunch of punk flurry’s that get in and out of your face with the sort of musings that made The Ramones famous. They’re young ‘n’ dumb anthems with titles like ‘I Love Cops’, ‘Spag’ and ‘Greasball’. These short little bits of wondrous fuckery are just a testament to the message of Bachelor Pad. And that message is Fuck It, with a capital F. Fuck getting old, fuck uni, fuck everything that doesn’t contain traces of dangerous amount of exhilaration. And that, my friends, is how a fucking record should be.

Buy the record right here and right now, at Bachelor Pad’s Bandcamp. While you’re at it, get their previous two albums that apparently aren’t albums. AND, although you’ve missed the album launch, Bachelor Pad are playing at FBi Social on Thursday, 23rd of Jan, along with The Fighting League and Yard Duty. Amazeballs.