There have been way too many albums that have whizzed by my head in the past few weeks, and I’ve been too bewildered by the term ‘uni break’ to have had the time to invest in these wonderful releases. HOWEVER! Now is the time, the time for me to get around to reviewing some of these fan-fucking-tastic albums that have shot through recently. I present to you, a Soundly Sounds Inc. co-production-Album Reviews I Should’ve Done A While Ago, But I Was Too Much Of A Lazy Sack of Shit To Get Around To It.
Sure, these are just demos, but you’ve gotta realise that every band starts out like that. Hell, if the Brendan Fraser 1994 vehicle ‘Airheads’ taught me anything, it’s that a shitty demo is all you need to sign with a monolithic music label, and have cocaine and hookers poured down a fountain and into your lap.
But what most bands don’t have is a potential revealed on their demos that actually sticks in the mind. Sure, these songs weren’t resurrected from an ancient ark that melted the faces off Nazis. But there’s a rock n roll attitude that’s deadset genuine as fuck, and I wouldn’t be surprised if a School of Rock era Jack Black handed out these demos to one of his middle school hostages amongst the Led Zeppelin and Sabbath.
Deadset, Silver Statues sound like a You Am I that’s just starting out, and the prospects of what could happen next make me very excited indeed.
Cretin Stompers-Looking Forward to Being Attacked
Supergroups, as a general rule, fucking rule. Total Control, Straight Arrows, and Boomgates are just a couple examples of when a bunch of people in other bands get together and make amazing music together that forces you into a foetal position. Cretin Stompers are one such group, formed between three dudes called Alex, Billy and BIG MUFF RADIO. Nice.
Anyway, the music on here is exactly the sort of thing that coked up aliens smoking bongs and hurtling through space at light speed would want to listen to. Seriously, if there was a Cheech and Chong-esque series created out of Lando and that weird fucking thing he sits next to in Return of the Jedi, it would be entirely soundtracked by this album. Songs like ‘Project: Object’ and ‘Cowboy From Mars’ is the kind of interstellar, parallel universe shit that would happen if Aerosmith and King Tuff collided. Pretty fucking cool, and that’s an understatement.
WTCHS-It’s Not A Cross, It’s A Curse!
WTCHS (not to be confused with the similarly grammatically incorrect spelling of witches, The Wytches) are a force to reckoned with. I say that because they’re brand of demonic, guitar fuelled agony rock is like, probably the best tool to battle otherworldly beings with. If we were invaded by aliens right now, on Planet Earth, I wouldn’t want Bill Pullman, Jeff Goldblum and Will Smith to save the day. I’d want some big ass speakers to get pulled out, and ‘Young Girls’ catapulted at those motherfuckers until they’re paralysed in fear. Deal? Deal.
The Pinheads-Too Darn Loud
The Pinheads “album”, although 10 tracks long, is actually only 15 minutes in length. So you’ve got something that’s only slightly longer than all my romantic pursuits put together, what could one possibly take from that? Well, if you’re for the motion of having a good time, or wanting to put on a good tune to fit a slimy atmosphere in a pub at two in the arvo. There’s a lot of the similar characteristics here that bands like Doc Holliday Takes the Shotgun and East River have, only with a slightly more deranged, Tarantino-esque flavour. Hit up ‘Jeebus’ and ‘The Devil Is Gonna Take My Soul’ if you don’t believe me.
Feel Bad Hit of the Winter-The Feel Bad Hit Of the Winter
I fucking love the QOTSA song ‘Feel Good Hit of the Summer’. It’s just the listing of a bunch of drugs set to a nail-biting riff, and a chorus of cocaine. Well, Feel Bad Hit of the Winter take the same approach, only with the less cartoonish view of how drugs affect you. It’s like QOTSA is Ren And Stimpy, and FBHOTW is The Wire. There’s the same amazing guitar work happening, and there’s plenty of ability to rock your head back and forth in a rollicking motion.
Suren Unka-El Chupacabra
No one ever told me what a Chupacabra is, and I’ve always been fascinated as to what it could be. And whilst a quick Google search could easily rectify this situation, I feel like laying in wait, not knowing something for the rest of eternity is a way more attractive philosophical premise. Because, fucking knowledge is power, and power corrupts, amirite? #Freud #Plato
Anyway, whilst I meditate on bullshit philosophical musings, the perfect album to aid me in my ponderings would have to come from New Zealand solo producer Suren Unka. A beautiful name there, and some swell tunes to boot. The songs hinge on tension, thrilling to the very end, working their way through these hypnotic patterns that dare you to fuck with them, like 10 electronica Muhammad Ali’s, buzzing and whirring in flying fist fury. If that doesn’t make sense, then just press play, and be drawn in by this pretty amazing album.