I wanna rock. I wanna rip. I wanna rock AND rip (and it wouldn’t hurt to roll, either).But how?
With a KILLER-DILLER TRIFECTA OF SEVEN-INCH RECORDS FOR THE FIRST EDITION OF PINCHING YOUR 7-INCH, with offerings from Univox, Dinowalrus and Hindutronic, of course!
I’m ecstatic. Is there a better format for a band to get its ideas across without overstaying its welcome? I’d wager 60 percent of the full-length LPs in this world could easily be pared down to an EP or seven-inch format. In the industry a recording with even 10 songs is called a “vanity demo.”
Image by mercurialn via FlickrUnivox‘ “I’m a Lying Fuck” is no vanity demo. It doesn’t wear any pretensions on its album sleeve and it doesn’t take more than a few minutes per-side for it to make its impression. Anything more would be dumb; “Pi” and the title track channel enough punk energy on their own, the latter especially impressing with insistent jangling (Thermals? Sure!) and “whoa-whoa-whoa” melodies that don’t commit the crimes of Punk Past.
The invigorating A-side is followed by ”Cannonball,” a slower, strangely Hot Water Music-ish tune that swings and swerves like early day Weezer (don’t pretend you don’t like it you shitheads) and manages to make a big-rock formula work reasonably well in a lo-fi format. “Cannonball” doesn’t please me as thoroughly as the faster, slam-dash cuts, but a rousing call-to-arms flares up at the last minute almost saves it. You make the call (I’ve done my part) …
Dinowalrus, a band with personality up the ying-yang (or wazoo, if you’re a Coug), are up next. “Electric Car, Gas Guitar” approaches punk overtones with its quick-step tempo and scrappy vocals, but this is a much tougher beast to define than, say, Univox.
Dinowalrush are all spazzy and shit. They wrap their competing synth/guitar lines in a lo-fi wax paper and ship it to an empty factory, where they unwrap them and drive them home with dirty drums and vocals that echo-o-o-o-o-o-o long past their penetration point.
Mmmm, penetration; is there a better word in the English language (save felch)? I think not. “Cage Those Pythons”? It penetrates. It digs deep with its crass Cramps tribute and rock-a-billy underbelly as the singer barks and bawls like Neil Fallon (Clutch) and Don Van Vliet getting slapped around in a meat locker.
If you think that’s Sick, keep listening … hear those queasy synths and the perve-y drum beat? That’s the sound of spontaneous discharge from a giant, throbbing genital of sound. It would be impolite not to lick it off the floor, so what are you waiting for?
And now for the odd duck of the bunch: Hindutronic. Worst band name ever? Yes. Band worth checking out? Ditto. Pressed on marble-gray vinyl? Thrice-times-yes.
H-tronic are a true alternative for fans of until-now disparate genres like indie-rock, World, hip/trip-hop, jam-band and trance. You probably think Thievery Corporation already accomplished this, but they didn’t; “Solitude” did. It’s a true treat with few precedents in the underground.
“The Paradox” doesn’t sit as well. As far as I can hear this is just boilerplate indie junk with maybe one or two half-twists that don’t do near enough to wash the stale taste out of your mouth. What a downer end to Side 1, a true yin-and-yang situation.
“Hangover Cure,” unfortunately, also strikes me as canned and dull. The double-tracked vocals don’t quite mesh together and weigh down the chorus. The verses are so tepid I don’t even know where to begin; suffice to say, I’m not finding much to like apart from the lyrics, which are reasonably amusing.
At this point the fourth song has a unique opportunity to push Hindutronic — again, worst band name ever — over the edge or bury them deeper in the hole.
“Among the Boys & Girls” fares better than the preceding two tracks. Still, I see no reason to give Hin-du-tron-ic the greenlight. Too many snags, baby.
And there you have it, the first installment of my series that is NOT trying to bite from Doug Mosurock (I could never compete, especially now that ‘rock has Andrew Earles, my favorite music scribe, banging bands up the ass for him).
BTW: If you want to send me a 7″ fucking do it already.
