01. Comedy Team
02. Good People
03. Doin' My Time
04. I Don't Love You
05. Don't Up the Window
06. Let's Dig the Impossible
07. Can You Tell the Difference
08. Troubled Child
09. Back to the Start
10. Real Things
Hear
And just when I thought 99¢ couldn't buy squat anymore, I came across this at Sonic Boom in Toronto last year. With a name like Sister Lovers this Vancouver quartet had to have a jones for Big Star, right? Perhaps, but it isn't the least bit evident on these four songs. S/L do however pay homage to prematurely deceased Pandora's front-woman Paula Pierce on the title track, a bouncy, garage/punk-pop rave up in the spirit of Redd Kross, with loose nods to locals the Evaporators and Pointed Sticks too. Little did I know that "Paula Stop Pretending," and "Playing on Thru the Bell" (the latter sounding not far removed from what the Figgs were peddling around the same time) were sung by Mark Kleiner whose future outfit the Mark Kleiner Power Trio were responsible for perhaps the best power pop album of 2002, Love To Night. In fact I only learned of the connection by way of a Kleiner podcast interview conducted by Vancouver DJ extraordinaire Nardwuar on the occasion of a MKPT reunion show earlier this year.
This isn't the first time The Well Wishers have absorbed a little text on these pages, and it likely won't be the last as prime-mover Jeff Shelton has proved himself a perennial purveyor of power pop, reliably doling out a bevy of albums, not far removed the trio's latest, A Shattering Sky. Clinging firmly to the "if-it-ain't-broke..." dictum, the Hot Nun is not what you'd call a stickler for variety. Shattering Sky, rife with jangles and crunches follows a regimen similar to the one the Posies exercised on Amazing Disgrace, combined with prose that stitches together the lamentable, the cynical, and occasionally something a bit more positive. Among his own compositions, Shelton puts his spin on a vintage Tom Petty chestnut "When the Time Comes." Get you some at CD Baby, Amazon Bandcamp or iTunes
Most Posies aficionados know the band's 1988 debut, Failure originally saw its inception on home dubbed cassettes, and that there were initially no designs of pressing it onto vinyl or CD. To me, what's always been infinitely more revealing is that neither Jon Auer or Ken Stringfellow had encountered a note of Big Star until well after Seattle based PopLlama Records did a proper physical release of the album. So far as I'm concerned Bellingham's dynamic duo were no worse off for said lack of enlightenment, considering that Failure's power-less pop consistently rose to the occasion with mesmerizing harmonies and clever but cathartic truisms. Predominantly endowed in acoustic, folk-informed arrangements, creme de la creme selections like "Under Easy," "Compliment?" and "I May Hate You Sometimes" represent the purest and most undiluted statements Auer and Stringfellow ever brought to the table, in or out of the Posies realm. Go ahead and pen another Dear 23 letter, or lick the Frosting off your Beater of choice, because as far as I'm concerned Failure was in all respects a sublime, rewarding and beaming success. To mark it's fifteen anniversary, Failure was reissued with bonus tracks, but frustratingly only in Europe. The Omnivore edition reprises the bulk of them, and tacks on an exclusive demo. Amazon and iTunes have you covered.
The moniker TV Eyes is going to ring familiar to many of you, but this trio will take you on a spin a good 180 degrees from where Iggy and the Stooges ever thought to embark. Their roster boasts a resume a mile long - Jason Falkner and Roger Joseph Manning Jr. who were formally united in Jellyfish, (and separately in such entities as The Three O'Clock, Imperial Drag, The Grays not to mention Falkner's excellent solo outings), along with Brian Reitzell who pounded the skins in Redd Kross and Air. TV Eyes tenure essentially began and ended in 2000 when this album was tracked, but it wasn't released until 2006 - and that was only in Japan. Don't let their individual, or for that matter, collective back-storys lead you to any predetermined conclusions, as TV Eyes turned out to be a fairly radical fish-out-of-water venture for all those involved. Eschewing anything guitar-based, the Eyes were full bore electro-pop brandishing bold, dance floor convictions. A job worth doing is worth doing well, and amazingly, the Falkner fronted combo sound as natural and proficient in this sheik, digital realm as they did in their considerably more organic pursuits circa the twentieth century. Occasionally, the going gets a bit gratuitous and sonically overwhelming, with lyrics that hover perilously close to the insipid at times. That aside, TV Eyes solidly delivers nine pumped up kicks straight to the booty, that it's intended audience will have no quibbles with. Get it from Omnivore, Amazon, and the usual array of digital vendors.