Can you find Hank? Can you? Can you? I could ...
[Read an interview with Voytek HERE]
[Preview this 7-inch PLUS all four bonus tracks HERE]
First off, a bit about “votek,” the word:
Wojtek[1] (1942–1963; Polish pronunciation: [ˈvɔjtɛk]) usually spelled Voytek in English, was a Syrian brown bear cub found in Iran and adopted by soldiers of the 22nd Artillery Supply Company of the Polish II Corps. During the Battle of Monte Cassino, Wojtek helped move ammunition. The name “Wojtek” or “Wojciech” is an old Slavic name that is still very common in Poland today. It derives from two words: “woj” (the stem of “wojownik”, warrior, and “wojna”, war); and “ciech”, enjoyment. Thus the name has two meanings: “he who enjoys war” or “smiling warrior.”
And now, a bit about Minneapolis’ Votek: I’m noticing a lot of care-free punk-rock is making the rounds these days, most of it ignoring the most recent unwritten rules of punk and post-punk, those stipulations being:
- that vocals in this day and age must be treated, compressed and fuzzed-out to be effective (Needy Visions, a recent Lucky 7-inch alumnus, also fits the profile)
- the lyrics need to be indecipherable, often even if you have the lyric sheet right in front of you
- the mood absolutely has to be glum, distant and icy to be truly cool
Although I like a lot of the groups with fuzzed-out vox, indecipherable lyrix and overcast moods, hearing the kidz party their pants off like this with no limits/rules/boundaries is like reaching the 13th floor after waiting in a crowded, stuffy elevator for much too long. Let’s just say I’m letting the scent wafte into my nostrils and so far my nose hasn’t gagged.
I’m also noticing a lot of beyond-acceptable influences seeping through, including:
- The Ramones: creator of life, MOTHER OF US ALL;
- The Germs: destroyers of life, deadbeat father of us all;
- The Daryls, a little-known Seattle trio my band used to gig with 10 years or so ago;
- White Fang — probably the crudest and last-talented punk band out there;
- Black Lips, more by dint of their attitude than anything;
- Gas Huffer, because I haven’t thought about them in awhile and that’s too bad;
- The Thermals, because while people would have you believe they’re an indie-rock band, they’re really funk as puck;
- Cream, but only because one of their end-of-song chants is almost note-for-note the same as the chorus chants of “Voytek Party”;
- Jay Reatard, because he’s likely considered the posthumous godfather of all the nice punk activity happening the last half-decade;
- The Queers; a minor influence, but it’s there …
It’s too bad the four bonus tracks — offered as a supplement to the purchase of the 7-incher — couldn’t have been shoehorned onto the wax somehow, because “Unicycles,” “Dirty Baby,” “Hot Wax” and “Hot Cops” are all interesting and in their own specific way, to the point where I don’t reckon those with the 7-inch alone will be getting the full gist of the Voytek sound.
“Hot Cops” is especially out of left field, a simple Ramones ramp-up featuring a song-length guitar solo (if you could even call it that) and simple-stupid charm.
That’s pretty much the overall M.O. for Voytek: punk that doesn’t sand off any of its raw edges nor pretend to be something it’s not. And I’ve got to admit that I think this stuff is quality enough that it would fare well on any of the bigger punk labels out there; all this quartet needs is some good word of mouth on its side and maybe a little luck-by-association or other such fortunate circumstance.
Hey, it could happen!
P.S. — There’s a douche-y sleaze-wave dance producer going by the name of Voytek (including a song wherein he pleads, “I want your lolli-, your lollipop”), and I warn you: Don’t be fooled by this dill! Know your Voyteks!!!
