Any one who knows me, knows that one way to get me happy in the midst of a monster of a traffic jam is to drop some thing raw and garagey into the player, crank up the volume and watch me become one with the fuzz. That's exactly what Baby Woodrose does Love Comes down, the latest retro-psychedelic masterpiece, leaked-from-underneath-the-oil-can, blast of pure garage pop bliss. For many die-hard Baby Woodrose fans (and you can count me amongst the ranks - along with just about anything from the Bad Afro Label) Love Comes Down is the "lost" Baby Woodrose album. Originally released in 2006 only in Scandinavia, not many folks outside ever got the chance to hear it. Which is a damn shame, because I'll tell you, Love Comes Down may just be my favorite Baby album in the whole catalog.
If you're a fan of fuzzed-up, psyched-out, garagepunk from the sixties, this album may be your new holy grail. Finding a smoky path that's slightly more straight ahead than other releases, Love Comes Down finds the fuzz big, the melodies huge, and the hooks massive. Take one look at the acid tab on the cover, and you'll get an idea of what awaits you. Each song is a corker of garage rock bliss with a riveting rhythm section, spaced out buzz, and a rock and roll grind. Sometimes hard and charging, sometimes blissed-out and fuzzed in mellow pop psychedelia, there are no highlights, it's all good. Better than good. It's a rightly heralded classic of pysch-garage fuzz. Absolutely essential for fans of the band and the genre, or just good music in general. Go, Baby!
Let's up the punk, shall we. Voice of Addiction came around a sharp corner and blindsided me upside the cranium with their hyper-nitro fueled, determinedly pissed off, punk rock. From the first cut, "Wrecking Ball," I was in their corner, cheering them on, hoping they could keep this fantastic momentum going all disc long. And they do.
Voice of Addiction bring in equal parts Oi! punk street guts, Green Day pop punk smarts, and the political snarl of Dead Kennedys, and blasts out their venom in all directions. The offenders for this musical mayhem: Ian Tomele (Vox, Bass Guitar) Andy Bobby Petty (Drums, Backing Vox) are at their absolute best when they lay it all on the line, like the steaming punk-fury of "Constant Pollution" or the pop terror of "Wrecking Ball." If you've tired for the last time of whining emo or the 33rd incarnation of the Dookie album, you should check these guys out. This is punk done right.
Hey, I never claimed to be the hippest guy in the world, but even I'm shocked at myself for never having heard of The Generators before. With Last of the Pariahs, The Generators have released their (count em) 8th studio album of high-octane, gun metal punk, a career that has entrenched The Generators at the forefront of the Southern California punk scene since 1997. Yes, I live in California. Yes, I dig punk. No, I hadn't heard of em. Yes, I feel like an idiot.
But that's all changed now. Simply put, The Generators put the "rock" into punk rock. Tons of attitude, gobs of melody, chugging guitars, blitzing rhythm section. It's all here. Ramones speed, D.O.A. snarl, Offspring hooks. Why aren't the "powers that be" hailing this band as the second coming? Take one look at the video below. Tell me this isn't a near-perfect punk song. Aggression melody, some clean harmony guitar work, passionate vocals, a guttural bass,and a message of mankind's stupidity. This song is branded into my auditory cortex. Love it!
This album decimates most of the punk that I've heard this year. DC Jam really did us a favor picking up these unsung heroes and unleashing Last of the Pariahs. Make sure to pick this one up, you’ll be glad you did!
From punk to reggae? Yep, it's a straight line, as The Clash, The Slits and others showed us way back in the 70's. Reggae represented all the passion and defiance that punk embodied and was just as outlaw. Nappy Riddem doesn't concentrate on the resistance aspects of reggae instead focusing on the beat and the "ass-movingness" aspects. If you know what I mean.
When I first popped this disc into my player, my jaw dropped, my butt moved and my inner funk burst to the forefront. It wasn't a pretty sight. But how else could I respond to the killer old-school-cum-Parliment-meets-the-world vibe of "Nappy Riddem"? I'd been looking for funk like this for years! The song just doesn't let up with it's hip-moving, ass-shakedness! Then when I found out that Nappy Riddem was only a duo, I was even more impressed. This album had none of the overly-produced, sonically sterilized boredom of many studio creations. It's just warm and organic all the way through. Just listen to "Devil Needs a Bodyguard." This is Marvin Gaye updated for the 21st Century. We got it all. A throbbing bass. Nasty beats. Riotous horns, snarling guitars, and simply beautifully smooth vocals. This is the funnest funk/soul song I'd heard since, Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy."
A killer surprise find.
--Racer