01. I Get Lonely
02. Isn't That Something
03. Born to Vacation
04. Paradise
05. The Cab
06. Distance
07. Let it Be Silence
08. Ten Year Itch
Hear
In 1990, hearing the Ocean Blue's "Between Something and Nothing" on college/alt-rock radio was about as unavoidable as encountering a mullet in a high school corridor. Yes, that song (and to a lesser extent it's follow-up single "Drifting, Falling") was largely played to death, but did any of us really feel compelled to switch the station or turn off 120 Minutes when it came on? It was indeed that kind of song, and the Hershey, PA quartet who molded it were quite frankly outliers of their era, eschewing any iota of machismo and abrasiveness, opting for clean, chiming guitars and an introverted demeanor - not unlike the Smiths, minus the pout and ego that is. The Ocean Blue were perhaps the closest America had to a mainstream act that adopted the C86 aesthetic. Sure, they weren't as rough around the edges as the Bodines or Mighty Lemon Drops, but nonetheless they were Anglophile to the core and all the better for it.
Recently had a request for this one. As much as I was enamored with the Chainsaw's careening debut, Violent Religion, and for all perfect tens it housed ("Mother (of the Ancient Birth)," "Bloodstorm," etc...) Tyson Meade and his posse had something even more dazzling waiting in the wings. 1992's Flipped Out in Singapore upped the ante of Violent's... slashing punk via Tyson's Morrissey-esque croon, incorporating another wall or two of Marshall stacks for an even more wailing sonic wallop. The melody quotient remained intact on Singapore, with the vocal theatrics pared down a tad, giving the Chainsaw Kittens pastiche a more linear power pop semblance...cranked up to eleven no less. The record spawned a spin-off ep, High in High School, front loaded with the title track, and another amped-out scorcher from the album, "Connie I've Found the Door." Rounding things out were for non-LP b-sides, including a pair of high-octane barnburners in the guise of "Couple #23" and "Stuck" slotting in appropriately. They're followed up by a not-so-crucial retread of Three Dog Nights "One," and a spare piano ballad "Walk Softly (for D.M.)."
Leave it to the '90s to inspire compilation singles that were often more exciting than full length various artists collections (though technically, the nine volume Teriyaki Asthma series on C/Z Records was kickstarted in 1989). The overriding emphasis was on burgeoning Seattle bands of the era (including a pre-stardom Nirvana), but national acts like Unrest, L7, Alice Donut, Ween, and the Pain Teens were sprinkled in among the subterranean Emerald City swill. Perhaps the pinnacle of the Teriyaki Asthma saga arrived in 1992 via Vol. 7. Seattle is duly represented by Hammerbox, an oft phenomenal female-fronted contingent who blended full-bore punk thrust with smashing vocal hooks. It's hard to say that their contribution "Promise to Never" isn't my favorite thing on here, but I that nomination would more realistically have to go to Superchunk who take to task Motorhead's "I'll Be Your Sister," (the title truncated to merely "Sister" on the TA7 sleeve art) getting the point across even more succinctly than our dearly departed Lemmy did. The Poster Children are represented with a solid non-LP goodie from what was arguably the finest period of their tenure. As for Tsunami's "Punk Means Cuddle," let's just say it's nothing short of the band's very quintessence. This was ripped from my original 7," not taken from the CD reissue compilation it later appeared on.
I
suppose it’s inevitable that The Feelies will be venerated for their 1980
debut, Crazy Rhythms above and beyond
anything else in their subsequent catalog.
Later records, specifically 1988’s Only
Life and ‘90s Time for a Witness,
may have lacked the nervy undulations and defined textures Of Crazy… , but compensated with a
noticeably linear tact. This was no doubt a symptom of the Feelies reshuffled
lineup that came about after the band’s lengthy early ‘80s hiatus, but I don’t
have nearly enough time to delve into the specifics of that. Nonetheless, two
new reissues on Bar/None prove these Hoboken, NJ mainstays still had plenty of
gas in the tank, perpetually nervous or not.
It’s
ironic that Only Life concludes with
a reading of the Velvet’s “What Goes On,” when it’s the Feelies succeeding
record, Time for a Witness, that seemed
to channel Lou Reed. Arguably the band’s
most driving and often straight-up rocking record …Witness boasts sizable mojo and fervor on the sinewy “Waiting” and
the racing “Sooner or Later,” proving (not so) old dogs can learn new tricks. And if it’s the reliably strummy and jangly
tones you’ve come to love from the Feelies, look no further than “Doin’ It
Again” and “Invitation.” Bonus download
tracks feature more live fun at Maxwell’s, with a cover of the Stooges “I Wanna
Be Your Dog” no less.
It must have been a good two decades ago when someone tipped me off to Frogpond, but when I learned they were on a major label that essentially sunk their credibility with me. Glad I didn't pass up on this demo when I found it in a thrift store rack not too long ago. Four young women from central Missouri unfurl an unholy volley of devastating hooks and crunchy guitar clatter on this eight-song nugget of buzz 'n fuzz, placing them squarely in the same marathon as the Breeders, Liz Phair and Veruca Salt. In terms of sheer accomplishment and capability, the gold would go to Kim Deal and Co. in that hypothetical race, but Frogpond would clock in at a very close second or third. I'm practically in love with 2%. Will have to check out their proper albums, even if they're lacking the raw, naschent charm of this tape.