We're all painfully aware that "there's nothing new under the sun." Food is a prime example of this adage, though while the list of ingredients our bodies have the opportunity to imbibe is somewhat finite, you can still have a hell of a lot of fun with a mixing bowl and a whisk. Same goes for rock and roll. So long as the right cooks are stirring the pot, the results can be tasty, albeit not necessarily original, which leads me into introducing Chicago's Smith Westerns. Adopting a brand of fidelity that consistently fluctuates between "lo" and "mid," this Windy City four-piece choose to pitch their tent on a bedrock of gauzy, garage punk rambunctiousness, with a sonic aptitude that's squarely in league with such contemporaries as Japandroids and Wavves. That being established, their curriculum thankfully dates back further than the last eighteen months, with heavy doses of Bowie, Swell Maps, and T-Rex likely giving their turntable a vigorous workout. 
It almost went against my better judgement to share this single, not so much out of concern about getting slapped on the wrist by the RIAA (technically, the A-side is available as a hidden track on Superchunk's Incidental Music compilation), rather the surface noise on the vinyl is pretty atrocious. Heinous even. Nonetheless, it's long out of print and the b-side ("Version 3") has yet to be documented elsewhere. This was Merge Records 50th release, and being the round number and outright accomplishment that it was, it was only fitting to have two wonky remixes of a signature piece from the label's flagship band grace this record. Both versions feature a portion of the song virtually untouched from the album incarnation, interspersed with markedly out-of-sync ambient treatments, for lack of a better description. The first half of "Version 3" relies heavily on Mac's vocal track, sans the accompaniment of his bandmates, lending a lofty and surreal vibe to the remix. Nothing terribly revelatory I suppose, but if you can cope with the excessive static and pops both remixes are if anything an interesting companion to the classic that you know and love. "Precision Auto" was and always will be a deliriously urgent and cathartic call to arms for anyone temporarily blighted with a case of justifiable road rage. 
Thanks go out to Duncan who sent me the files for this long forgotten ep. So forgotten in fact that I hadn't given this British trio a second thought since their 1995 Full Size Boy album landed stateside on Geffen Records...and sadly sank without a trace. The ABC ep was Bivouac's maiden voyage, but didn't see issue in North America until it's contents were included on the Derby & Joan mini-album released a year or so later on Engine Records.
Originating in the mid-80s, a celebrated but little known California trio dubbed The Nashville Ramblers turned more than a few heads with their only publicly issued song, "The Trains" (though let it be known, the band never officially broke up, and have performed live as recently as last year). That beautiful, revivalist slice of Meresybeat pop initially came out on an obscure British compilation in 1986 that just a scant few were familiar with, however it received greater availability once it resurfaced on Bomp Records 1996 The Roots of Powerpop compilation, as well as the Children of Nuggets box set courtesy of the anthologizers at Rhino Records in 2005. 
If re-enacted by the original participants today, this gig would have been just as much of a treat as it certainly was some 30 years ago. Needless to say this is a thoroughly astonishing lineup capturing all four combos in their prime, although in power-pop circles only 20/20 and Paul Collins & Co are the ones that are consistently revered to this day. We're treated to the best of the best from The Beats' seminal debut album, and although 20/20's set is pared down to a mere three songs, they pick the ones that truly matter, including the genre-defining, "Yellow Pills." As some of you may know, Bruce Wooley was responsible for penning "Video Killed the Radio Star," not the Buggles, who of course had significantly better success with it. Finally, this concert serves as solid introduction to the Sinceros, who's The Sound of Sunbathing album has been recently reissued.
Seemingly informed by U2's The Edge (check out the spidery fretwork that infiltrates "Haven't Seen You), as well as certain residents of Athens, GA, the first half of All the Right Noises makes a decent case for recommending Twice Shy, but elsewhere things get a little passive. Mouthpiece Dana Moran possesses a croon not unlike Cactus World News’ Eoin McEvoy, and even feigns a bit of a Brit accent while he’s at. Some faint noir inclinations crop up here and there, but these fellows are kind enough to spare us of any gothic morass. Noises... is recommendable, even if Twice Shy's moniker is often all too suitable.
Clutter is the second, and from what I can discern, final album from the Massachusetts quartet known to the world at large as Miles Dethmuffen. I Shared their Nine-Volt Grape platter last year, which I was fairly enthused about, and though Clutter pales by comparison it's still worth a spin if such likeminded co-ed outfits as Christmas (the band) and Atlantic Records-era Eleventh Dream Day got your juke joint rockin'. The prose is wordy, and the arrangements mightily robust, just not terribly remarkable...though they were definitely onto something with "Hope I Don't Spend All My Money on Liquor." Here's what Trouser Press had to opine on Clutter.
A raw, riveting and raucous surprise came steam barreling full-din-ahead out of London, England this year in the form of Male Bonding, who's full-length debut, Nothing Hurts was issued on Sub Pop this past May. Fitting squarely in the same rapid-fire, distorto-punk camp as Wavves and Japandroids, MB's inspiration delves back significantly further, specifically to Bug-era Dino Jr. and the feedback-addled sprawl of early Sonic Youth. Before I address the music that concerns this entry, here's a quick assessment of Nothing Hurts that I recently penned: 
I believe this is the only other Pollyanna album I have yet to share, and I'm rectifying that right now. How a band of this caliber and consistency slipped through the cracks in their homeland, let alone who never enjoyed having any of their releases see the light of day in North America is yet another unsolved mystery. Yep, these Aussie indie kids who sport a melancholy streak on their final outing, Didn't Feel a Thing, could teach today's young crop of hopefuls a thing or two about the art of real songcraft. There's an air of maturity, not to mention sobriety, coursing through Didn't Feel... and as such it sometimes lacks the visceral power chord wallop of previous albums like Hello Halo, but is still entirely recommendable if you liked the other Pollyanna albums I've shared, or for that matter Buffalo Tom's Red Letter Day.
By popular demand I present to you the Venus Beads debut single. My share of their Black Aspirin and Incision disks touched off multiple requests. I was reluctant to share it at first, as the audio quality was a bit sub-par. It was pointed out that I may have mistaken my assumed "worn out" copy of the single for an insufficient recording job on the band's end. Still can't say for sure, as the side with "Heartless" on it looks a bit scuffed, and there's snaps and crackle aplenty. If I come across a superior copy I'll be happy to make an upgrade. If you've enjoyed what I've posted by them thus far I wouldn't let that scare you off. "Day of Nightmares" is particularly good, recalling early Mega City Four. They don't make 'em like these anymore...
A1. Day of Nightmares
A2. Heartless
Now this is what I like to call head music for the rest of us. Baltimore's seade (pronounced "shade") were yet another fantastic Grass Records signee that didn't have a prayer in gaining national prominence. Too lengthy to be deemed an ep, but just shy of full length status, (perf) commences with "Soulful" a billowy, amped-out piece that finds the band wandering around the sonically expansive troposphere that their often grandiose contemporaries Hum and Failure were wont to inhabit. seade soon drift back to earth and treat us to a perfect album sides worth of dense, enthralling guitar rock, reminiscent of Swerevedriver, Iowa's underappreciated Head Candy, and to a lesser degree the Doughboys cicra Crush. Some disparate influences at play here, but trust me, it works brilliantly. So far as I can tell the only other recorded matter that exists by this long defunct quartet is a 7" for "Kool-Aid Mustache" and some comp tracks, one which you can stream here along with (perf) itself, or you can download the album via the link conveniently provided below. 
Have had this one in my collection for ages, so I'm surprised I haven't posted it sooner. Anyway, Kid Champion's three-song 7" appears to have been their only commercial release and has the distinction of being one of the earliest endeavors for Vancouver's now fairly renown Mint Records label.
A Vancouver, co-ed four piece with a female mouthpiece, Kid Champion kept it humble and quintessentially indie, not unlike one of my other favorites from the same era, Belreve. The downcast lead-off track "Jacklyn and Chantel" boasts a mild dream-pop inflection with sweet, chiming guitars. "Gigil" is a busy instrumental, and the b-side "Adam's Newts" is all hazy, clangy, and gloriously oblique. Viva '90s, mid-fidelity indie-pop!
A1. Jaclyn and Chantel
A2. Gigil
B. Adam's Newts
Hey. Been on vacation, which means I haven't had a chance to rip any vinyl (although did bring a hefty new stash of vintage wax that you'll be hearing in the near future). I've gone on at length about Detroit's Junk Monkeys, quite possibly the finest ride to roll off the Motor City assembly line since the Stooges, though from the sound of things they were more Pleased to Meet Me than Raw Power. 
This one's a no brainer. This is what I call classicist power-pop to the nth degree, particularly the resplendent "Behind Those Eyes" which could go head to the head with the best of The Pezband, Spongetones, or Shoes. "Trudy's Got a New Boy" is also as about as quintessential as the genre gets. The reminder of Crash City USA is actually quite rollicking, sporting an unmistakable celebratory fervor. The Crime were a Memphis quartet with no apparent ties to Big Star or the like, but co-producer Jack Holder was a Bluff City pop scenester from the early days from what I've read. I'm sure these guys have more of a back-story, but all I could find was this lil' blurb:
