The Meices - early singles (1991-92)

Were the Meices given the whole "Behind the Music" treatment, something tells me they'd have a pretty

interesting story to tell. Ultimately, notoriety of just about any sort was not in the cards for this 'Frisco trio who pumped out three consistently impressive albums of a rather indigenous brand of rough-and-tumble pop-punk that hasn't been heard since their dissolution in the mid-90s. Two of that trio of long-players, 1994's Tastes Like Chicken, and 1996's Dirty Bird, were issued on a major label (London Records) no less, but the wider exposure espoused to the Meices did little to maximize their meager, but dedicated following.

Over the course of three albums, The Meices matured steadily and noticeably. As for the band's pre-lp introductory singles, the Meices at their rawest and most unbridled could outdo the "prime" output of many of their contemporaries. The punk-pop tag is likely to conjure up Blink 182, Green Day, and god forbid Good Charlotte, but Joe Reineke and company weren't shy about kicking up a little dust to come up with something a little more impulsive and dynamic. The Meices made their official debut wih the Not Funny (ha ha) 7" ep on Two Car Garage Records in 1991. Four slices of roughhewn, rip-roaring rawk, that featured what was to become one of their signature songs, "Alex Put Something In His Pocket." Total fun, and even though it was far from their potential it was a more than respectable start. Many other songs from the Not Funny sessions would wind up on an import-only CD, Pissin' In the Sink.

The "gravy" would trickle out shortly thereafter with two singles for

the Seattle-based Empty Records. They were released as precursors to a dynamite debut album for the label, dubbed Greatest Bible Stories Ever Told. The A-sides, "Don't Let the Soap Run Out" and a reworked "Alex" found their rightful place on the aforementioned 12," but the b-sides weren't shabby either. The downer vibe of "We're Freezing" secured a place as one of the most "serious" songs in the Meices oeuvre. A faithful rendition of "Back In Your Life" in no uncertain terms revealed Reineke's sincere appreciation for Jonathan Richman, while "Alex's" flipside, "Crash," is a melodious stunner that would have made a fine addition to any Meices album, not just the first.

The only Meice with any real prominence, Joe Reineke went onto found the even more prolific Alien Crime Syndicate in the late '90s, a band that added some electronica accoutrement's into the picture, but still brought the rawk.

 

Not Funny, Ha Ha 7" ep

01. It's Oakland

02. We Was Gettin' Drunk

03. Where You Get On

04. Alex Put Something In His Pocket
 

1st eMpTy Records 7"

01. Don't let the Soap Run Out

02. We're Freezing

03. Back In Your Life
 

2nd eMpTy Records 7"

01. Alex

02. Crash

 

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The Mice - Who Cut the Cheese? (1988, Waffle)

As a quick caveat, this is not the same Mice from Cleveland featuring the talents of the great Bill Fox, rather a trio with origins in Florida, commandeered by Joe Reineke who had greater success with The Meices in the early/mid '90s.  For those of you familiar with The Meices (particularly their early catalog incl. the Greatest Bible Stories Ever Told album and surrounding singles) you'd likely agree with me in a heartbeat they were about as ramshackle and unhinged as a punk-pop band could be while still managing to carry a tune.  That being said, you'd expect a Meices precursor band to sound even more Jerry-rigged...but not necessarily so.  Who Cut the Cheese is not without it's moments of goofy frivolousness (try "New Wave Country Song" or the backwards looped two-minutes of wasted space "Ypupp" on for size), but the Mice were downright competent, tidy even in comparison to the neurotic hand so often dealt by the Meices.  If there's anything the Mice lacked it was the punky verve Reineke's later claim to fame oozed all over the place, but it's hard to complain with driving, melodic keepers like "Pushin' 30," "Blank Day." and "Is it Too Late" slappin' you in the face a la late '80s Soul Asylum.  There's another Mice album, Say No to Cheese that preceded this one by a year.  The band migrated to the left coast soon after the issuance of this platter, soon to splinter with Mr. Reineke trudging forward with not only the Meices, but later Alien Crime Syndicate as well.   

01. Blank Day
02. Carl's Jr.
03. My Jalopy
04. New Wave Country Song
05. Cheap Cigs
06. Ypupp
07. Pushin' 30
08. What's the Matter?
09. Hair and Image
10. We Ain't-a-Flamin'
11. So Long
12. Straight Up
13. My Hometown
14. Is It Too Late?
15. Labor Day

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The Meices - Tastes Like Chicken (1994)

Lead-Meice Joe Reineke would probably tell you that The Meices third and final outing, Dirty Bird, was their premiere effort.  I'm partial to the preceding, Tastes Like Chicken, if only because nothing they put their name on before or since matched the thrashy exuberance of that record.  For the uninitiated, it's hard to deny San Fran's Meices didn't occupy a slot on the punk-pop continuum, yet you would have never mistaken this trio for Green Day, Blink 182, or for that matter the Descendents.

Instead, their indigenous formula hinged on Reineke's throaty howl (teetering ever so precariously on the border of a whine), a Jerry-rigged delivery system, and as far as TLC is concerned, some near-startling dynamics.  The proof is in a bevy of feral, ragin' slammers, including but not limited to "Lettuce is Far Out," "The Big Shitburger" (aka "Sister"), "Until the Weekend."  The key to ...Chicken's charm is producer Kurt Bloch's (yes, from the Fastbacks) acumen for the capturing the Meices raw, ferocious live sound in the studio, especially Reineke's guitar and Marc Turner's kinetic percussion.  Sonically, the warm analog hue that envelopes the proceedings is just as vital.  And if the uptempo numbers are at all grating on your eardrums, by album's end there are a pair of mellower, not to mention thoughtful respites in the form of "Hopin' For a Ride" and "Now."  I've dedicated entries to several other morsels in the Meices catalog, all of which you're welcome to check out here.  Finally, I'd be remiss if I failed to point out this record's bizarre album sleeve, that only a decade like the '90s could have induced.
 
01. That Good One
02. Daddy's Gone to California
03. All Time High
04. Light 'em Up
05. Slide
06. Until the Weekend
07. Lettuce is Far Out
08. The Big Shitburger (aka Sister)
09. Untruly
10. Hopin' for a Ride
11. Now
12. That Other Good One

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The Meices - Greatest Bible Stories Ever Told (1993, eMpTy)

Recently had a request for the first Meices album, so here it is.  It's hardly the first time I've dedicated space to them on Wilfully Obscure, and it probably won't be the last either, considering there's a few more nuggets in the vault to plunder.  The two platters that followed Greatest Bible Stories... 1994's Tastes Like Chicken, and Dirty Bird which landed two years later, were superior to the debut, but even from the get go the Meices managed to hit the ground running, in extremely consistent fashion at that.  A rumbling pop-punk undercurrent reverberates through unholy yet tuneful rackets like "Don't Let the Soap Run Out," "Pissin' in the Sink," and "Near Ya," all of which hold up splendidly two decades after the fact.  The Meices always had a wailing, Replacements-y swagger to 'em, yet Joe Reineke and company imbued their compositions with a little extra tartness and unpredictability that few groups have ever been able to duplicate.  You can check out a batch of singles contemporary to this album here, two split singles, as well as Joe's pre and post Meices endeavors. 

01. Alex Put Something in His Pocket
02. La La Land
03. Push You Down
04. Don't Let the Soap Run Out
05. Near Ya
06. This Way
07. Pissin' in the Sink
08. Didn't Wanna
09. Number One
10. Hey Little Punker
11. 40 Miles
12. We're Freezing (hidden track)

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Splitting the Difference # 32 - Corduroy/The Meices (1994, Volta)

Neither of these Bay Area denizens from the past decade are rookies to Wilfully Obscure, but if they're new to you, here's an excellent little slab 'o wax to road test 'em for yourself. Corduroy were profiled here last October, or more specifically their Lisp ep and Dead End Memory Lane anthology. Led by the raspy-as-all-get-out Wade Driver (formally of cowpunks The Hickoids), Corduroy cultivated a colossal amount of feedback and minor chord mayhem, fully on par with SST-era Dino Jr. Both of their selections here can also be found on the aforementioned Dead End Memory Lane CD, but this single features a different version of "Just My Way," perhaps the bands signature song.

Career-wise, The Meices were ten-fold more illustrious than their mates on the flipside, due in no small part to holding down a major label recording contract during the mid '90s. The pile-driving pop-punk trio from 'Frisco didn't quite make the inroads they should have, but I suppose they didn't have the "cute" factor going for them, unlike another more cuddly power trio from their neck of the woods that need not be named. "Sister," appearing here in demo form was rechristened as "The Big Shitburger" for inclusion on their London Records debut, Tastes Like Chicken. A really convenient, radio-friendly marketing decision right there. That tasty little nugget is followed up by a live rendering of A Flock of Seagulls' "I Ran." You can hear a smattering of early Meices singles, made available from this very blog.

 

Corduroy

01. Just My Way

02. Sump 'n Good

 

The Meices

01. Sister (demo)

02. I Ran (live)

 

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Splitting the Difference # 17 - Fastbacks/Meices (1995, Gearhead)

This 'lil slab of wax is nothing short of a barnburner. The long-running (and now sadly defunct) Seattle denizens The Fastbacks get their punk on in a big way here, rampaging through three UK Subs covers within the span of a mere five minutes! As intense as anything you're likely to hear this side of a Dead Kennedys or early Bad Religion record. The Meices, who we've previously discussed here, careen their way down Remake Road as well, delivering a blaring, hyper-distorted treatment to the Sonics cult-classic, "She's Waiting." Something tells me the meters in the studio this ditty was tracked at bleed well into the red. Truthfully, the Meices overdo it, but their enthusiasm is without peer.
Fastbacks
01. Rat Race
02. I Live in a Car
03. Telephone Numbers

Meices - He's Waiting

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Singles Going Single # 94 - Alien Crime Syndicate 7" (1999, American Pop Project) + s/t ep (1999, Collective Fruit)

The Seattle-docked Alien Crime Syndicate was the brainchild of Joe Reineke, former frontman for gnarly San Fran pop-punks, The Meices. ACS found Reineke propelling the new project into a decidedly less encumbered stratosphere, giving him more breathing room and a larger canvas to launch a bevy of new-found sophisticated ideas and textures. The approach on their 1999 debut single for American Pop Project Records was more subtle than the lager-than-life dabblings that were to arrive on several forthcoming ACS albums. In fact, "Supernatural" was a veritable ballad held side-to-side with the bulk of raucous songs that comprised ACS full-lengths including From the Word Go, and XL From Coast to Coast. The B-side, "Really Got a "C" is a bit grittier and in my opinion the more preferable cut here. Not sure what compelled them to cop an ELO album cover for the sleeve.

Around the time of this single's release, a five-cut cd ep was quietly issued, featuring an early incarnation of "Trippin' Up to the Clouds," that would be re-recorded for From the Word Go. The disc closes out with a loopy rendition of Jonathan Richman's "Pablo Picasso." 
 

7"

A. Supernatural

B. Really Got a "C" 
 

s/t ep

01. Trippin' Up to the Clouds

02. Here With You

03. You Found

04. When I Get Home

05. Pablo Picasso 
 

7": Hear

ep: Hear

Carmine - Carpe Patio Flounder (1994, Velvet Dwarf)

Even though these somewhat non-descript, post-grunge schleps from Atlanta, GA didn't make music that was quite worth writing home about, Carpe Patio Flounder's inclusion on this blog was inevitable if only for it's centerpiece, "Mitch." Who would have guessed that such an unassuming paean to a found pet turtle would be so terrifically endearing, not to mention anthemic? Well, at least to this set of ears, Carmine penned an alt-rock ditty for the ages. The trio's net presence is less than ubiquitous (with perhaps only this 1996 article providing a few pertinent clues written after the band had relocated to Seattle), but after engaging in some brief Latin translation, the album's moniker roughly means "seize the suffering fish." And speaking of suffering, this disk has it's share of clunkers, some goofy ones at that, but in addition to the aforementioned "Mitch," the boys also go a long way in redeeming themselves with the hooky, riff-addled ""Your Biggest Fan," and "I Relate," a sincere and tuneful stab at balladry (or reasonable facsimile thereof). By pure coincidence, frontman Jeffrey Barnes recalls the golden throat of Meices/All Systems Go head honcho Joe Reineke and that guy from Love Battery.

01. Empire of the Air
02. All Men
03. Mrs. Jones
04. Car Crash
05. Irrelevant Elephant
06. Mitch
07. Tim
08. I Relate
09. Your Biggest Fan
10. High Speed
11. In the Void

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