01. You Know My Name
02. The Teacher's a Punk
03. Don't Ever Tell Me
04. Was it a Dream
05. The Way She Looks at Me
06. Autorock
07. Real World
08. Autoworld
Hear
I haven't really brought them up on here, but I'm a big Ultra Vivid Scene acolyte, or more specifically prime-mover Kurt Ralske. When a friend introduced me to Crash in the early '90s, he made a point of informing me that it was Kurt's pre-UVS band. Upon hearing Everything Under the Sun (a consolidation of Crash's EPs and I Feel Fine LP) I failed to draw any obvious parallels to Kurt Ralske, most notably because he wasn't singing. Instead, Crash featured a Morrissey-esque but otherwise undistinctive mouthpiece in the guise of Mark Dumais, who was passable as a vocalist, but a tad short on charisma. As an entity, Crash dined on the work of a considerable number of their UK indie contemporaries, but had a propensity to spit out much of the charm in the process. At the very least Ralske's guitar-work compensates, and occasionally Crash really get the ball rolling, namely on the chiming "Almost," and the rousing, Velvets-indebted "In My Head." As a final saving grace, Everything Under... improves considerably as it's latter half progresses.
Nobody needs another live Buzzcocks album. Nobody. Happy 4th everyone.
Before Buffalo, NY's main claim-to-lame was being the snow capital of the nation (though technically, Syracuse, three hours down the road, is actually subject to more of the white plague than the Queen City), the town in question had an even more dubious distinction - the assassination of President William McKinley at the Pan Am Exposition in 1901. In 1988, a macabre opportunist with hip taste in music assembled a compilation LP highlighting the cream of Buffalo's up-and-coming crop, strikingly dubbed, We Killed McKinley. Eight years on, another opportunist decided to try his/her/it's hand at providing yet another snapshot of the Erie County scene, highlighting equally worthy tuneage in the Clinton-era. And to our good fortune they did a pretty apt job at it. Temple of Music's CD sleeve and title is yet another dig at the 1901 tragedy, as it depicts the building where that unholy act took place (which by the way looks suspiciously like a Carnegie library, but I digress).
A little pedigree action going on here. File under Yo La Tengo and Hypnolovewheel, cos' A Special Pillow entailed James McNew and Dan Cuddy of the aforementioned respectfully. Cuddy is actually the mastermind here, and the only consistent participant on the trio of full lengths that followed this 45. Just as significant are the contributions of violin shredder Katie Gentile and cellist Cindy Brolsma, who provide a poignant chamber pop element.. "Tomorrow Night" (not the Shoes classic in case you were wondering) is sheer naval-gazing bliss if there ever was such a thing. Slow, strummy, and even a tad glummy, it's the perfect slacker lullaby for hammock season. The flip, "Paranormal," is considerably more enthusiastic, with Gentile's chin-music savvy escalating the tune's fervor to something along the lines of Pillow's string-wielding contemps the Dambuilders.
Two months ago, I introduced many of you to Crocodile Shop's 1987 ep, Head. With a quintessentially indie rock sound that drew from the choice stock temanating from the then contemporary Minneapolis and American Southeast, I was practically beside myself to learn that within a decades time the band was not only still active, but had adopted a thumping, industro-EDM modus operadni. Starling as that was, Croc Shop's metamorphosis was relatively gradual, and Lullaby was a none-too-telling chapter in their transition. With the Chameleons (UK) Dave Fielding producing, the trio cast their gaze on the chillier strains of post-punk, often threatening to breach into noir environs, resembling the likes of Wire and the Comsat Angels. Frustratingly, Lullaby doesn't fully blossom until the latter half of side two, closing out with a trifecta of tense, yet melodically adept numbers. All in all, more substance than schtick, and a grand finale worth hanging around for.
01. The Big Goodbye
02. Three More Times
03. But Not Now
04. Hands and Pocket
05. The Floor of the Sea
06. Own the World
07. Knocking Down the Doors
08. Corrupt Solution
09. Lies Don't Move
10. Tender
11. December Mourning
Presumably taking their name from the R.E.M. song, it's virtually inevitable for me to draw some sort of parallel between this Cleveland area quartet and Michael Stipe's former meal-ticket. Rotary Ten, in fact, didn't siphon as much as you might assume from said Athens, GA staple, so much as the bands whom R.E.M. informed - Miracle Legion, For Squirrels, and even more negligibly Toad the Wet Sprocket. Submitted for your approval, two low-budget forays into the unlikely realm of organ-laced indie pop. The proceedings on Long Walk and Coffee Songs emanate a discernible collegiate ardor, yet are uniformly approachable. Rotate Ten wield some fairly ambitious melodies when they put their collective minds to it - "Glacier Run," "Rainfall" and "Insomnia" for starters. Otherwise, I have precious little else to opine on here. However, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that some of these songs are available on an R/T compilation from this period, Adopt a Highway, which is attainable via Bandcamp, alongside a collection of later material. Should you find anything stimulating on these cassettes, please consider supporting the band and send a few $$ their way!
Long Walk (1990)