CD Review - The Woggles - Tempo Tantrum

The Woggles
Tempo Tantrum
Wicked Cool Records


From my most recent assignment at Hybrid Magazine:

Over nearly two decades, Atlanta's prime purveyors of reverently retro rock and roll, The Woggles, have released a veritable cornucopia of albums, singles, compilation and tribute tracks, spanning a handful of lineups. Most of The Woggles' releases have had at least one toe firmly planted in a sort of southern trashy garage soul vibe. Yet their catalog has also clearly indicated an abiding appreciation of a wide swath of vintage flavors, such as surf music, spaghetti Western soundtracks, and other appropriate drive-in sonic fare. This appreciation is demonstrated by the way the band has sprinkled various tracks reflective of this admiration throughout their releases over the years, often either as b-sides to singles, or on tribute compilations.

Which brings us to their new release, Tempo Tantrum, which is essentially a retrospective collection of instrumentals (originals and covers), all but one of which have been previously released, though many on very obscure, out-of-print, issues. For those relatively new to The Woggles, this is pretty much a must-have record, in large part due to the inclusion of their instrumental cover of The Monkees' "Valleri", and their cover of The Fleshtones' "Theme From The Vindicators", each an homage executed with deserved respect, yet tinged with the raucous sweaty energy for which The Woggles have long been known. Even longer term fans who may not have kept pace with The Woggles' exhaustive release schedule over the years will find this collection an interesting recapping of the band's instrumental lexicon, underscoring the various lineup changes and guest players who have aided the band in its exploits over the years.

A couple of songs in particular stand out above the others. Notably "El Toro", a worthy homage to the spaghetti Western soundtracks of Morricone and Nicolai, but brought to date with rock drums and a driving bass line. Another highlight is "Los Angeles No Niseimaturi", which originally appeared on a vinyl only EP release a few years ago, and was apparently recorded as an act of sonic reverence towards Nokie Edwards-era Ventures. "The Elbow Twist" is a fine go-go combo organ driven stomper. Even the one true vocal track on the album, a cover of Dick Dale's "Mr. Peppermint Man" (taken from a 15 year old 10" vinyl tribute release appropriately titled "Dickheads") has 1962 stamped all over it. Given the very nature of The Woggles as a band, this is a good thing indeed.

The above notwithstanding, the band is now at a point where two of its last three full-length releases have been retrospective collections and The Woggles, who are indeed still active, have only put out one new release of new recordings sine 2003. Here's hoping that the Professor, Flesh Hammer, Dan Electro, and Buzz Hagstrom get back to the business of penning the best in balls-out revival retro rock and roll sooner rather than later. After all, as Meredith Ochs (of NPR's All Songs Considered) once said, a Woggles show "will change your life," and there is nothing like a brand new release of brand new songs, to give cause to bring The Woggles to your town.

CD Review - The Len Price 3 - Pictures

So Hybrid Magazine's put up another one of my CD Reviews, and I thought I'd share it with you guys here. Frankly, the review probably undersells the CD, which is bloody brilliant. Of course, the full length CD doesn't hit the streets until January 10th, but whatev.



The Len Price 3
Pictures
Wicked Cool Records



The Len Price 3 – “Pictures”

England’s Medway Delta region has long contributed a steady stream of excellent, yet under-appreciated, garage rock and power pop bands, going back at least as far as Billy Childish’s earliest works, through to the present day. A good number of these acts over the years, from Thee Milkshakes, through The Prisoners, to The Bresslaws, often go unnoticed beyond the area’s working class pubs or the occasional hard core garage rock aficionados. With the release of The Len Price 3’s latest full-length, “Pictures”, there is now yet another opportunity for the broader audience to move beyond the past and revel in the underground legend that is the Medway sound.

In line with their previous work, The Len Price 3 (in which there is no one in the band named Len Price, naturally), the band once again paints a masterful canvas using a palette of colors appropriated from freakbeat, mod, and traditional power pop song structures, and borrows somewhat liberally from the same type of working class lyrical ideas typical of Ray Davies. The sound is big and jagged, with boomy toms, crackly snares, alternately jangly or fuzzy Rickenbacker guitars, effective harmonies, and enough ferocity behind the pop façade to hint at the frustration of one’s station, while never forgetting that rock and roll is still about fun.

The thirteen tracks that comprise “Pictures”’ clock in at barely more than 30 minutes, and most individual tracks are here and gone in under two and a half minutes. Within this idiom there is really no need for anything more. Get in, get out, quit fuckin’ about. The album’s opening eponymous track punches brightly with a meld of Mick Jones-spittled verses and a chorus that is very reminiscent of early Who, circa “Circles”, and provides a worth launching pad for the record. Additional highlights include “Keep Your Eyes On Me”, “Mr. Grey”, “Jack in the Green”, and the Daviesesque “If You Live Round Here”, the latter replete with cautions against pretentiousness and warnings to know your role:

You think you’re better than the population

Don’t get ideas so above your station

You’re gonna have to lump it, baby if you live round here

You say you’ve had an education

Round here, boy, that’s an affectation

You’re gonna have to lump it, baby if you live round here

“Pictures” is one of the more enjoyably buoyant and fresh-sounding pop albums to come out during this year. While much of the credit certainly goes to the boys in the band, a nod is due in the direction of Graham Day, one of the most enduring purveyors of the Medway sound from his founding of The Prisoners through today, and one of the producers of “Pictures”. In fact, much of the record bears his unmistakable hand. Other tracks on the album hearken back to the poppier side of bands such as The Easybeats or The Small Faces, particularly “Jack in the Green” and closer “The Great Omani”. As a whole, the record is a triumph.

As with many of their Medway contemporaries, The Len Price 3 do not seem to be interested in expanding the boundaries of popular music, or breaking any new ground. Rather, the band seems to be intent on simply making the most riveting and entertaining music they possibly can while remaining true to the very essence of their creation. To that end, “Pictures” meets the demands of that mission in spades. Perhaps this will be the record to break through to the masses that have heretofore missed out on one of the most vital subsets of rock and roll.

CD Review - Cocktail Slippers - St. Valentine's Day Massacre

Cocktail Slippers
Saint Valentine's Day Massacre
Wicked Cool Records

It's been said that there is nothing new left to do in rock music. There may or may not be any real truth to that assertion, but in any event, it is a rare event to come across a band that truly sounds original or revolutionary. Indeed, in many cases, bands with a certain amount of success and notoriety still end up wearing their inspirations on their sleeves like so many tattoos. And Norway's Cocktail Slippers squarely fall into this latter category on their newest release, Saint Valentine's Day Massacre.

However, the leading lasses of Cocktail Slippers never allow the derivative nature of their sound stand too much in the way of creating what is ultimately a listenable, if somewhat unmemorable, rock and roll record. The album is essentially a collection of Junior Miss numbers about crushes and unrequited love, and feels as if it were transported from 1963, even if the underlying music owes more to a later time.

Some of the very elements that make Saint Valentine's Day Massacre as derivative as it is, are employed in such a high fashion that these elements end up becoming strengths of a band. As an example, the liberal use of 60s-style girl group harmonies, in a more modern context, such as on "Don't Ever Leave Me" and standout track "You Do Run", is equally reminiscent of The Chiffons as it is the Go-Gos, and are executed near flawlessly. Some of the songs themselves are really no more than first cousins of material The Friggs were doing ten years ago, or that The Runaways were doing thirty years back, but then, those are two pretty kickass bands to draw your stylistic and songwriting lineage from.

That said, some of the songs come off less well, notably the title track, which was penned by erstwhile garage rock aficionado, rock and roll legend, and all around good guy Steven Van Zandt. Yup, that one. "St. Valentine's Day Massacre" really does sound like it could have stepped out directly from the Asbury Park 70s heyday, and could pass for a Southside Johnny track, but for the distaff vocals.

Still, the album does have a few strong tracks that should invite repeated listens. In particular, the aforementioned "You Do Run" pulsates and drives, and on its own, the chorus is the stuff from which top down boulevard cruisin' summer hits emerge, perhaps with the enduring Go-Go's track "Our Lips Our Sealed" as the most direct reference point. "Love Me Back" is a tasty piece of mid-tempo junior prom angst, replete with fuzz bass, hand claps, and a passel of ooh-la-las. The cover of "In the City" is another pleasing slice of 60s girl group nostalgia faithfully executed, and a fun listen, to boot.

Ultimately, the album comes up as a bit of a wash, particularly when listened to in the context of some of the great Scandanavian garage-ish rock bands over the past decade, and doubly so when held up to artists such as Sahara Hotnights. This is mostly attributable to the simple fact that Cocktail Slippers simply don't rock out as hard as some of their brethren. When they sing about wondering whether they're still the girls "penciled in on your calendar", but asking who will be "the last lover standing, come St. Valentine's Day", it's easy to think they're more likely to shed tears about it during a sleepover with the Pink Ladies, than to switchblade the object of their romantic torment. The best parts of Saint Valentine's Day Massacre are really quite enjoyable, even if they are a bit short in quantity.

CD Review - The Vox Jaguars - The Vox Jaguars EP

The Vox Jaguars
The Vox Jaguars EP
Anodyne Records

The Kids Are Alright. When Pete Townshend first wrote those iconic words, he may have been referring to the disaffected youth of 1960s London, but the words ring true today, at least as it pertains to the future of rock and roll. The kids are indeed alright, or at least the four young rockers making up the cast of The Vox Jaguars are. As of this writing, at the time of release of their debut self-titled EP, half the members of the band are still in high school (the other half of the band is barely out). The Vox Jaguars do not let that stand in the way of bringing forth some of the freshest, yet most timeless, garage rock to come down the pike in quite some time.

The record starts off with a bang, the appropriately named “Swagger” bursting forth with a level of grime and sweat expected of bands much further out of the basement. Vocalist Jordan Toph shows off some positively Jaggeresque qualities to his voice, and the old school overdrive captured in the recorded vocal only adds to the effect. The track is accented with vintage combo organ, most likely the eponymous Vox Jaguar, from which the band has taken its name. The overall sound here is reminiscent of recent garage rock revivalists The Agenda, but to label the band as garage punkers would be an oversimplification.

Although a steady undercurrent of garage rock influence and sonic characteristics serve as underpinnings throughout the EP, the rest of the material on the record seems to nod its head toward bands as diverse as The Jam and Mission of Burma, as heard in the second track, “Wild Orphan”. Even the dance-oriented new wave rock of Berlin or Arctic Monkeys seems to color the sound of closing tune “Homesick”, whether a conscious influence or not. All of these influences meld together into a fresh sound that should find a natural appeal across the spectrum of people who take their music without any artificial flavors or colors, and unadorned of any form of false affectation.

It can be difficult to truly assess the nature and character of a band when presented only with a scant four songs. Obviously, the future remains largely unknown for this lot. A full length album is apparently on the horizon, though it is unknown how many However, current evidence indicates The Vox Jaguars may have the underpinnings of a band with real potential to drive the easily distracted youth of today away from the slick overproduced shenanigans of whatever flavor of the month poseur tripe Disney is pushing, and back to honest to goodness rock and roll.

CD Review - The Ettes - Look At Life Again Soon

The Ettes
Look at Life Again Soon
Take Root Records

Sometimes, a band hits upon just the right alchemic mixture of the correct lineup, the right studio, a spot on engineer, and impeccable timing. When this happens, and all of the elements come together just right, the results can be explosive. The Ettes’ recent second album, Look at Life Again Soon, is one of these instances.

The Ettes, a trio of mono-monikered retro beat punkers, chose to record their new record at world “famous”, all analog, Toe Rag Studios, in England, with the truly legendary (if rather obscure) producer Liam Watson. Toe Rag has been the birthplace of a lengthy history of outstanding purist rock and roll recordings by the likes of The White Stripes, Eddie Angel (of Los Straitjackets), Billy Childish, Holly Golightly, and many others. And with Look at Life Again Soon, both Liam Watson and the Ettes have managed to carry on in that tradition with great aplomb.

Look at Life Again Soon is a platter full of stompers and raveups, fuzzed out bass, echo-y vocals, and plenty of grit and gumption. From the opening thrust of bass and drums of “I Get Mine”, all the way through closing track Particular highlights are “Pay Up” and “To Arms, “Two Shakes”, and the aforementioned “I Get Mine”. In each instance, singer Coco’s voice belies a woman who’s seductive yet sharp, as likely to switchblade you as she is to kiss you. The rhythm section is thundering and boomy, without stepping over the overdriven, yet understated guitar.

If there’s a criticism to be had, it is only that there is not a lot of breadth to be found across the album, and most of the songs are somewhat interchangeable with others. One notable exception is closing song “Where Your Loyalties Lie”, which has a more spacious sound, and sets a rather nicer departure mood. The end result is that the album is inherently a ballsy kick in the pants for a run of any four or five tracks, but after that, it becomes easy to want to spin something else just to change up the auditory recipe. However, the sound that this album is built upon is one that I’ve found extremely easy to keep coming back to.

The songs are spartan, yet uniformly convey a sense of impending violence bubbling just underneath the surface. In fact, this record would make the perfect soundtrack for a viewing of Death Proof, with the dialogue turned off. This song, and this band, is a chick habit to be relished, just don’t take your eyes off the nearest exit, because you never know where the next scooter gang riot’s going to erupt.

For those at all familiar with any previous Toe Rag work, feel free to compare this record to The Bristols, or any of Fabienne Delsol’s work, as there are a lot of similarities with The Ettes, particularly where vocals are concerned. All in all, Look at Life Again Soon makes a strong argument for a return of authenticity to rock and roll, and a trip back to days of teenage rebellion, late night transgressions, and morning regrets.

CD Review - Dressy Bessy - Holler and Stomp

A full week has gone by...9 days, actually, since I've played a single hand of poker. Of course, the BBT4 has started, but while I sit most of it out, I've been working on more CD reviews for Hybrid Magazine. This time, I actually got to cover one of my favorite Denver bands, Dressy Bessy. However, as you'll see, this outing wasn't quite what I was hoping for...



On occasion, a given assignment to review a particular CD requires some self-disclosure, and this is one of these occasions. I am a Dressy Bessy fanboy, and have been for quite a while, and I am quite unabashed in my admiration for this band. That said, I do not consider Holler and Stomp to be among the band’s best recorded output. In fact, it has to rate as a slight disappointment.

In many ways, Holler and Stomp is not dissimilar to the music coming out of Dressy Bessy camp over the last five years. The record is chock full of powerpop tunes, replete with chunky guitars, pounding rhythms, occasional slight dissonance between vocals and lead parts (e.g., the somewhat Pixies-ish song craft of verses during “Ease Me Down”), and even the odd cowbell or well-placed sound affect. Musicianship is uniformly excellent, as is production. The rhythm section, in particular, seems to be in peak form and Tammy Ealom and John Hill’s guitar tones blend with each other near perfectly. In those respects, Holler and Stomp isn’t really all that different than either of the band’s previous two albums, Electrified or Dressy Bessy.

However, the album ultimately comes across a little bit tired at times. Tammy’s voice has taken on a bit of a world weary character in parts of this record, and, while the compositions themselves range from fair to good, very little of the material reaches the songwriting heights of the triumvirate of “Side 2”, “Stop Foolin’”, and “Electrified”, which combined to make Electrified no less than one of the most entertaining albums of 2005.

The above notwithstanding, Holler and Stomp is still a pretty good album, and a worthy starting point for listeners unfamiliar with the band. Dressy Bessy have been able to crank out the type of fun pop confections in the vein of “Automatic” or “Ten Million Stars” in their sleep, with the level of ease that it takes to pull out a fresh pan of Tollhouse cookies from the Easy Bake Oven. Album closer “Sindy Says” is a delightful number, and a throwback to the band’s more twee-sounding past. I’ve managed to hear the band play around half of the songs on this record in concert, and the songs do take on a bit more urgency and vibrancy in that environment.

If anything, Holler and Stomp really only suffers in comparison to the great heights achieved by Electrified. Nevertheless, repeated listening has done little to alter my perception of a follow-up that can’t quite fill the estimable boots of its predecessor.

CD Review - Surf City - Surf City EP

Ahh, in a welcome respite from my weekly poker junk-kicking, it's time to put up another CD review. Actually, I wrote the following a couple of weeks or so ago, but it finally made it up on to the Hybrid Magazine site today, so I can now share it with you. With no further ado, I present Surf City's self-titled EP.




Upon receiving a review copy of Surf City, the new EP from the young New Zealand band of the same name, my initial impression was something along the lines of "cool, surf music from some of the biggest reef country the far side of the moon from Huntington Beach." The promo materials even made the obligatory Dick Dale reference. As an old time gremmie with a deep and abiding love of heavily reverbed instrumental surf guitar, I expected to be in for a treat. Notwithstanding the first few seconds of the record's opening track, "Headin' Inside", neither the label's misguided publicist nor I could be more wrong. But so what? The record's pretty damn good - not for what it isn't, but for what it is.

Surf City is a collection of four lads from the land of kiwis and the haka, who have a keen grasp of energetic melody, pacing, and the entire Jesus & Mary Chain back catalog. Their EP checks in at a crisp 19 minutes across seven tracks, each of which is a tasty slab of power pop and nods towards old school Australasian punk pop of the 70s and early 80s (think Hoodoo Gurus, The Scientists, Lime Spiders, Split Enz, etc.), the rapid chiming guitars of The Wedding Present, and yes, even the occasional wink of the eye to a double-picked surf run. And all of this is accomplished in a wonderfully appropriate low-fi recording that revels in the natural boisterous tendencies of the band without dragging the final produced down the descent into mud.

Simply put, there is not a clunker to be found in the bunch. From the roller rink organ, rapid fire hi-hat, and jagged guitar of "Records Of A Flagpole Sitter", to the desperate, near Wolf Parade-like vocal stylings found in "Dickshakers Union", to the retro dance rock of "Free The City", this EP is consistent throughout. While it is never truly mindblowing, it is always entertaining, and holds up well to repeated listening. Surf City appears to have a firm grasp of the true essence and source of power pop, and aural rewards await those who can tolerate the somewhat rawer nature of their recordings.

These days, it seems to be hip to be a kiwi with a guitar, especially if you can wangle an HBO show out of being a silly hack from the land next to the land down under. But never mind the Conchords, Surf City is the real deal.

CD Review - The Parties - "Can't Come Down"

Before the events of the past week, I'd wanted to mention that I've started writing music review again, this time for Hybrid Magazine, an online music mag worth checking out.

Anyway, I got my first assignment from them a few weeks ago, and it finally got published today. Cool. Hopefully, I'll be doing this on a regular basis, which would ironically allow me to meet one of my 2008 goals, albeit a year late. Please check out Hybrid Magazine directly, but I've gotten the goahead to copy and paste any reviews I do for them here, after publication there. So with no further ado, I present my review of The Parties' album Can't Come Down:

At first glance, The Parties' album Can't Come Down might lend the impression the band comes from the path of garage rock revivalists that includes such bands as The Cynics, The Woggles, or even those Green Day members in disguise known as Foxboro Hot Tubs. Looks can certainly be deceiving, however, as a listen makes it clear quickly enough that The Parties have more in common with labelmates The Grip Weeds than they do any form of garage punk.

The album does begin promisingly enough, with an introductory guitar squall leading into starter track "Love For Sale", a track containing many of the hallmarks of sunshine pop, such as tight high harmonies, bouncy picked bass lines, guitar delay, and the like. There are other near semi-precious stones on the disc, namely, "Cold Life".

The above notwithstanding, Can't Come Down suffers from two significant flaws that cause the record to not stand up very well amongst its peers. First, the drums throughout the record sound really thin. Not quiet, just thin and pale. While that works in some places, must of the album could have used a heavier hand, either on the kit, or on the mixing board. Second, and more important, relates to the lyrics. In too many cases the lyrics are no more than a step or two removed from junior high English class, or even worse, the sort of schlock crap foisted on us by the likes of The Outfield. Phrases such as "Slide down the waterfall, I'm here to break your fall" are just too vacuous not to be a distraction.

"I'm going crazy
and I can't sleep
I'm going crazy
'cause I'm in too deep."

The above couplet pretty much speaks for itself, not to mention much of Can't Come Down.

Most of the best moments on this disc take place when the band employs 12-string guitar to good effect, and when the vocalists are harmonizing with one another. It is obvious The Parties do know how to construct a pleasant sound. The harmonies are uniformly spot-on and reminiscent of the best of varying forms of laid back pop rock. The playing is solid, and the tone is quite pleasing. If I didn't pay too much attention to the actual lyrics, I rather enjoyed the record.

As I wrote previously, looks can be deceiving. In reality, The Parties are a sometimes pleasant, yet rarely interesting, California lite psychedelic pop band who are adept at crafting a reasonably good sound, but less so at writing a memorable record. However, elements of this album are good enough musically to indicate potential at something more compelling down the road.

Hope you enjoyed.