From 2016. Riveting and harshly administered coed punk/post-punk that may recall Unwound or Metal Circus at moments - but I'd say this threesome had something a little more economical in mind.**Please do not reveal artist in comments!**
There's something for everyone here - that is, everyone that has even a modicum of appreciation for power pop and wave. Dick Tracey were coed kids from Philly who hung around in the mid eighties for a couple of singles and an LP, Talkin' Bout the Future, but Movin' to the Beat is the only one I can vouch any real familiarity with. The lead-off title piece is quite the corker, brandishing enough guitar crunch to propel half a dozen like-minded cuts, if that's the direction they intended to take things. D/T were more diverse than that however, pitching us the noticeably sweeter keyboard-enhanced "A Modern Experience." Not to be mistaken for a ballad, "When the Lites Go Out" manages to shift the proceedings into a more benign modus operandi, with washes of pleasant ringing chords. Sadly, I'm not in possession of this record, and in fact I purloined files thereof several years ago from the now defunct Vinyl Obscurity Blog - which to this day I'm thankful for it's brief but revealing existence.
Four EPs time again, all from fairly disparate artists. Remember, no spoilers kids.
Passionate Friends, who despite their namesake did not follow in the same creative footsteps of the Teardrop Explodes, were a Scottish six-piece who made minor waves with a pair of singles in the early/mid-80s. Consisting of no less than three brothers John, Malky and Allan McNeill, the Friend's debut 1982 single, Time Bandits/What's the Odds was an impeccable stab at new romantic pop firmly in league with A Flock of Seagulls, but somehow more resonant. The band caught the interest of MCA a year later, who released the 7" platter I'm presenting today. Bearing a mildly more linear tact with the guitars taking on even footing with the synths, the band's self-titled tune (imagine that, beating Living in a Box to the record presses by a good three years or so) exudes melodic and casually melancholic hues, to gratifying effect. The flip, "Wake Up/Shake Up" charts more of an uptempo course, but not as memorable (patented '80s sax wails don't do them any favors). However, I've decided to do you a favor by tacking on the winsome "What's the Odds" from their previous 45. The Wiki2 link provided above will steer you to all of the biographical deets you could want on the Passionate Friends, including info regarding their 2008 reunion. Cheers.
Got a request for this one recently. The Great Divide was the fourth in a series of Punchbuggy
albums to feature less songs than the LP that preceded it. I suppose
they called it quits after this one considering the only logical move
for a fifth record would entail offering merely ten songs (or less). That would hardly be a complaint though given the caliber and consistency of what they pumped out for almost ten solid years. These Ottawa-based Doughboys proteges knew their way around a hook, not to mention chunky punk-pop riffs, all the while sustaining maximum sonic density. I've gone back and forth on my favorite Punchbuggy albums over the years, but since they're not a band that anyone normally "debates," so guess what? I don't have to pick favorites. Even with the absence of Jim Bryson on guitar (who also wasn't aboard from 1998's My Norwegian Cousin) The Great Divide is another wall-to-wall trove of aces, wherein the band even negotiates some modestly mature gestures on the slower (but not quite ballad-worthy) "Easy to Leave" and the relatively contemplative title cut. Aficionados of the Doughboys Crush or Goo's Superstar Carwash will find plenty to love here. In fact, the only thing that might have improved ...Divide is if the band employed another halter-topped model for the album cover, as they so effectively did with the aforementioned My Norwegian Cousin...but once again I digress. You can also find the band's second LP, Grand Opening Going Out of Business Sale here.
Been sitting on this one for awhile. You can attach almost another ten years on top of that, as I patiently waited for an affordable copy of Detour to make itself available Stateside, given I was only looking to make a minimal to moderate investment in it. The draw here was none other than Kurt Ralske of Ultra Vivid Scene renown. Truthfully, Nothing But Happiness wasn't actual his "baby" so to speak, rather that of frontman David Maready Bowman, whom I believe occupies all the lead vocals on this record with Ralske serving as guitarist. Bowman was also a contributor to Crash, another pre-UVS band that Ralske had a more definitive role in commandeering, who happened to exist during the mid-80s as well.
Hard to believe this band's first and third albums were so utterly polarizing (to my ears anyway). In fact I don't have a solid idea of what the Local Rabbits debut, 1996's You Can't Touch This, was all about, because on the two occasions I attempted to listen to it I was repulsed enough by the second or third song in I gave in to my compulsion to yank the thing out of my CD player. I remember it having an unseasoned and unfocused air to it, and the fact that they went to the trouble of covering John Lee Hooker didn't do anyone any favors. Ugh. What a difference six years made, because by 2002's This Is It Here We Go, I was fully onboard thanks to the seemingly multiple quantum leaps these Montreal natives were responsible for. The link above will take you to my critique of that LP, but in a nutshell, the quartet in question got exponentially more sophisticated from that off-putting debut, and post-Y2K they had fused bona fide singer/songwriter chops with retro yacht-rock tangents aplenty. This Is It... was outright dazzling, and to this day I'm still stunned how a band who were so mediocre on the launch pad delivered such a devastating moon shot a mere six years later. Sadly, that's the last we heard from the Local Rabbits.
Ultimately for the Big Idea, the record label they found themselves on (for what appears to be their only album) would soon gain considerably more notoriety than they would in their own right. YoYo Records was directly associated with Yo-Yo Studios in Olympia, WA, and both would become key indie taste-makers in the '90s, with the label being responsible for a relentless
slew of various artist compilations that in no small way helped codify
what indie (particularly the twee contingent) represented in that
decade. Big Idea presaged all that in 1987 however, with their LP The Big Idea, being the label's maiden release. Mildly unfocused, but never messy, the Idea were an eclectic coed five-piece, with integrity for miles, loosely pulling from a number of then-current, forward-thinking sources, including Athens, GA, and North Carolina's burgeoning Comboland circuits, without over-indulging from any one pool. Theirs was a fun and lively endeavor, combining traditional analog accouterments (translation: guitars/drums) with flavorful keyboard lines and gentle flourishes of harmonica. Each song on this platter reveals itself to have it's own particular flair, and for a change I'm not disclosing any spoilers. Just know this one is organic, heartfelt, and even a bit daring. Enjoy.
From 1989. A relatively common one this week. Then again, this quartet's prior album was so lackluster and uninspired, many of you likely gave up on them. Hope this will be new to some of you, because this "comeback" record was fairly on par with their first three.
It's harder to start off an album with a bigger bang than "Arsenic Bubblegum," a tune which beckons Cheap Trick's punky 1977 clarion call 'Elo Kiddies" to such an extent it's hard not to regard it as gloriously plagiaristic...but who in their right mind would complain? Orange Helicopter hover their collective chopper over the environs of power pop like there's no damn tomorrow, and they do so with LOUD, hook-filled abandon. From the sound of it, this quartet had their ears affixed to combos like Enuff Z'nuff and Jellyfish as well. Aside from "Arsenic" there aren't a ton of outright revelations, but quality control was a calling card for O/H, and they would have fit in like a glove on the sadly defunct Not Lame Records imprint. And yes, "Jet" is the Paul McCartney and Wings mainstay, done to very enthusiastic effect at that.
01. Arsenic Bubblegum
02. Strawberry
03. Take it All
04. Majestic Black Rainbow
05. Help!
06. Summer Song
07. Jet
08. Falling Star Potion
09. Coming Around
10. One Step Closer
11. Movies
I can't profess to know what a "Glory Box" precisely is, but if someone were to place this record in a carton of some sort and hand it off to me I'd say, "Yeah, this is pretty damn glorious." I wasn't necessarily opining that about the lead-in track, "Cut" which starts Donkey's proceedings a tad on the slow side, but this five songer (created by five guys, ironically) quickly gains steam thereafter showcasing this Aussie unit's penchant for serrated and mildly droney indie guitar rock that happens to remind me of their UK counterparts the Family Cat, and to a much lesser extent the Straitjacket Fits. Donkey reveals itself to be more stimulating with each succeeding song, a rare phenomenon in itself. So much so that by the time you hit "Regrets" and "Aarr"occupying side two you'll find yourself craving more...but five tunes are all we're allotted. A full length, Fudgeland followed in 1991, and a generous spate of singles and EPs surrounded it as well.