Bill Adams, Author at Ground Control Magazine

Butthole Surfers – “Thermador” – Electriclarryland 2LP

A deeper look at the grooves pressed into Butthole Surfers’ Electriclarryland 2LP. Only in the Butthole Surfers’ world could the band’s greatest commercial success also mark the beginning of their collapse. By the time they began making their seventh album, the Surfers were finally beginning to see some of the increased interest that they had worked so hard to generate; they had already made an album with a member of Led Zeppelin producing (1993’s Independent Worm Saloon was produced by John Paul Jones), had already built solid working relationships with a who’s who of both punk and rock royalty (including Jello Biafra, Mark Kramer and Al Jourgensen) and had already made a greater name for themselves on concert stages including that of Lollapalooza (both with their music as well as with singer Gibby Haynes’ accuracy with a shotgun). Having made those inroads was definitely a positive development and, while their record label might have remined unconvinced, work on the album began with Surfers guitarist Paul Leary and Steve Thompson (who’s credits included work with Guns N’ Roses on Appetite For Destruction, production work on …And Justice for All by Metallica and work on John Lennon’s posthumous album Milk and Honey, among many others) as producers. Upon release, wikipedia claims that the album received mixed reviews from critics [a claim made without the benefit of citation –ed] but, at the time, fans seemed to be on board with the influx of new fans in the audience and the positive reception was very much deserved; as “Birds” opens the A-side, singer Gibby Haynes cackles out an intro that is equal parts confusion (the words, “Alright what’re we doing here,” have never sounded so much like a call to arms as they do here) and blind craziness – but the hook is clean and pulls listeners by being exactly everything even the uninitiated expect; here, the band is playing off the image that they’d been working to make for over a decade and the fury and fervour – the howling tone of Haynes’ voice coupled with the adamantine tone of Paul Leary’s guitar – plays perfectly to that. The results are (for fans) instantly gratifying; the guitars echo back to when John Paul Jones was manning the board on Independent Worm Saloon, but the song itself is just familiar enough to feel a little looser and more dangerous than that, as a result.

After “Birds” ends, the game completely resets as “Cough Syrup” ignores the first direction into which the Butthole Surfers drove – it keeps the sense of urgency which came with “Birds,” but turns the angles and sound on its head. From note one, “Cough Syrup” almost sounds like it wants to march (before King Coffey’s drums enter the mix) as Leary’s guitar sets the song’s tempo with a very rigid rhythm, but it actually softens when Coffey’s drums enter, about eighteen seconds in. When that happens, the Surfers straddle that sense of urgency and a snide punk energy, but there’s also a warmer, almost sad undercurrent which implies that no one will be getting out alive, by song’s end.

…And then, in a haunted and methodical way which plays in excellent contrast to everything the Surfers had done on ANY of their records before it, ”Pepper” asserts its presence. Now with thirty years having since lapsed, it’s difficult to articulate how progressive-in-stance “Pepper” was when it was first released. While bands like The Beastie Boys had already begun creating connective tissue between rock and hip hop, “Pepper” stands on its’ own because it utilizes pop music styling the band had never touched before, and do it so well that it feels like it’s all they’ve ever known; the beat holds listeners tightly as Gibby Haynes begins to unroll a vocal that sounds both fine and confident (lines like, “Marky got with Sharon/ Sharon got Cherese/ She was sharin’ Sharon’s outlook/ On the topic of disease “ only begin to clearly unravel upon close inspection – at a distance, they sound like a bold new evolutionary step for the band) and hooks listeners without even trying, and the best payday comes as the chorus continues to straddle offhanded and profound images, but at no point actually allying with either camp; the band simply lets the chorus exist for listeners, and then moves on inconsequentially, revelling in other strangeness like reversed vocals and looped samples which only prove to actually interconnect at the end of the song. “Pepper” is (and it feels strange to contend this, in context) a true achievement in the Butthole Surfers’ songbook; it is, arguably, a moment which would foreshadow most of the electronic movements that the band would make throughout the remainder of their songbook to date [see the sounds developed and refined on the Jackofficers’ only studio album as well as on The Weird Revolution and After The Astronaut –ed] but never overtly mimicked.

After “Pepper” both sets and destroys some of the Butthole Surfers’ standards, some listeners may find themselves at least smiling if not flat out laughing as the album continues and just returns on the path it set, initially. “Thermador” recalls the cock rock classicism that the band first started reaching for with John Paul Jones’ help on Independent Worm Saloon – complete with a twisted take on Buffalo Springfield’s “For What It’s Worth” which then descends into tumult with the words, “And ’round, and ’round, and ’round she goes,” to close out the side. While only four songs (and just less than seventeen minutes) deep, the A-side of Electriclarryland is the perfect bait that keeps listeners both engaged and excited as the side ends, and then the B-side recaptures the hardcore blasts of the band’s early career for “Ulcer Breakout.” There, Leary, Coffey and Haynes almost inadvertently explode on one of the greatest and most completely underrated/overlooked meltdowns of their entire career; Leary takes up both guitar and bass duties which ends up adding greater focus to the cut, and Coffey adds excellent, unadorned percussive drive while Haynes presents the greatest, most unadulterated sense of nihilism to the song that any Butthole Surfers cut has ever featured. While the singer was previously content to simply add throwaway lines as placeholders which would add some mania too (see lines like “There’s a time to shit and a time for God/ The last shit that I took was pretty fuckin’ odd” from “The Shah Sleeps In Lee Harvey’s Grave,” or “Goofy’s Concern” – which might just be the most left handed love song in all creation, with its’ “I don’t give a fuck about…” refrain), Haynes sounds like he has found a way to balance something disposable with something utterly profound in lines like, “Ever fall above with a Chevy/ Ever fall above with a Ford/ Ever felt the torque of a hemmi/ Ever seen the face of the lord,” and do it in a way which doesn’t even begin to feel gimmicky. It is, simply said, an excellent cut capable of pulling listeners along through the side very easily – and, while “Jingle Of A Dog’s Collar” and “TV Star” both illustrate a bit of a decline in the side because both the mania and the energy levels lower noticeably, that energy returns in earnest when “My Brother’s Wife” reclaims a sense of paranoia with lyrics that are far more disjointed than its’ predecessors as well as featuring a galloping drum beat which helps to fuel the worry. The energy and fury about “My Brother’s Wife” and B-side closer “Ah Ha” are both excellent, but certainly not at all the same; the manic power of “My Brother’s Wife” is excellent, while “Ah Ha” keeps an energetic pce without falling into anything simple or expected like overdriven guitars of howling vocals; rather, while the movement of the song is energetic, the energy is focused and tempered in that no one flies off the handle or over the edge, the band just powers through and, when the cut crashes to a close, listeners will be ready to switch to the set’s C-side; the music just lines up and expresses that, if you’ve been following along, you know what’s next.

…And, after the peak represented by “Ah Ha” and listeners have had a chance to gleefully swap out the plates and start the C-side of the album, listeners are subjected to a whole other experience, again. First, after needle catches groove, “The Lord Is A Monkey” opens with some formless, molten texture but quickly tightens up to reveal an intoxicating vocal rhythm and a lyric sheet which straddles both a sense of euphoria as well as a sense of menace. Here, lines like, “Thanksgiving’s coming third week of July/ In the form of a girl with a needle in her eye/ Well she came from out west on a nickel worth of gas/ She’s got her mind on her money and her dope up her ass” are simultaneously silly, nonsensical and scary – and the band plays according to Hoyle by sticking with the themes presented as well as the ominous, worrisome and (occasionally) metallic and frightening musical themes expressed. Granted, not everything about the cut is flawless [those who have followed along with the album from front to back will flinch when they hear that, “Well she’s heading back East in a 67 Caddy/ Got her mind on her money and a dope for her daddy” is supposed to mirror the “needle in her eye” line from the previous verse. –ed], but the structure doesn’t fold and listeners will have no difficulty making it into or out of “Let’s Talk About Cars.Now, it could easily be contended that a bunch of Texans including a song on their album which is half sung/narrated in French might just be one of the most transgressive things on Electriclarryland but, practice, it brings a completely different sensation to the proceedings. While Leary has since said that watching the woman speak as the sound was captured for the album bordered on erotic, the fact is that the dialogue coupled with the music in “Let’s Talk About Cars” borders on perfectly captivating, as one listens. Granted, the dialogue is about as confusing for listeners as it was for the non-bandmembers who spoke on the recording (listen to the female voice – even if you don’t speak French, you’ll get the impression that the two people commissioned to speak French aren’t sure how long they should continue speaking or what they should say next), but there is still just “something” about the cut that holds listeners’ collective interest – they might not be sorry to see it go when it ends, but listeners will likely concede that “Let’s Talk About Cars” (which features no lyrics about cars at all, incidentally) is at least time well-wasted.

After “Let’s Talk About Cars” spirals to a close, listeners will be shocked out of their comfort zone when “L.A.” screeches out caustically from note one and never lets up for all of its’ two-minute, forty-second running. Throughout the cut, Haynes howls out a kind of caustic, confrontational and incoherent lyric sheet that is loosely centred on the phrase, “I don’t care,” but no drummer will ever say that King Coffey was incapable of standing on his own in the band [Butthole Surfers featured two drummers playing at the same time until Theresa Nervosa left the band shortly after the release of 1988’s Hairway To Steven –ed], and his performance on “L.A.” proves it – he pushes the cut hard and ensures that the blur is brilliantly contained too.

There’s no question that “L.A.” closes on a deliriously high point that could very easily have ended Electriclarryland in a very solid place but, instead, Butthole Surfers included one last cut which could easily have gone overlooked when it first came out but, with the benefit of hindsight, the band leaves some blueprints behind within “Space” which give an idea of where the band may have been headed – if they had continued on at the time. Right off, strange voices and transmissions appear next to audio of Haynes laughing and very gentle guitar figure, and listeners begin to feel like their ride throug the album is coming to an end – until Coffey’s drums begin to pick up steam about a minute into the song’s running, and the movement becomes increasingly turbulent, as it progresses. More and more along the way, listeners begin to feel like they’re on board for another great adventure as the song’s tempo builds, Leary’s guitar asserts some dynamic presence and Gibbytronics effects emerge but, as soon as listeners brace themselves for the ride, they hear a manic laugh from Haynes and the song clips off. In effect, the Butthole Surfers take one more opportunity to pull the rug out from under listeners again, and then the needle lifts, unexpectedly. On one hand, it’s exactly the sort of prank that fans would expect from the band in theory but, when it actually happens, Listeners who have run front-to-back with Electriclarryland may find themselves shocked at how suddenly the ride’s over. There is one other side in this set which could have featured music, but what interested parties will find on the final side of the original release are a series of etchings which were done by Gibby, and nothing more.

In the thirty years since Electriclarryland‘s release, the legend of the band and this album has grown pretty well. Fans have certainly helped it along – doing their part to help the Butthole Surfers’ legend grow. Because the number of albums that the band released grew a lot shorter after this album came out [There have really only been two Butthole Surfers studio albums to appear since Electriclarryland‘s release in 1996 and, hilariously, After The Astronaut and The Weird Revolution didn’t come out in the order in which they were recorded –ed], every new release has drawn a very excited eye from fans – so when this year saw the release of a new, anniversary edition of Electriclarryland appear on yellow and blue vinyl (one yellow LP, one blue LP) with no etchings on the D-side but a set of cuts culled from singles and soundtracks, a different height of excitement was revived in fans. The “new” songs range from feeling a bit like demos (“Hybrid” doesn’t feel finished) to feeling like genuine misplaced gems (“Whatever” is solid and makes the most of a really good and trip-hoppy beat as well as a guitar part which sounds like it was inspired by a James Bond movie) and “Valuable Charcoal,” which feels like it fell out of the sessions for Independent Worm Saloon, somehow. Granted, it’s very possible that these misplaced songs might not have been appreciated if they’d been tacked on to some other larger release but, in this context, their inclusion is very welcome one.

Standing back and taking this record as a whole, there’s no question about its’ quality; while calling it timeless might sound a little unusual, there’s no way to deny that each of the songs on Electriclarryland play as well now as they did when the record was first released. Those who don’t know should know – if they don’t, they should find out and fix it as soon as possible. [Bill Adams]

Further Reading:
Ground Control Magazine – Butthole Surfers [Discography Review] https://groundcontrolmag.com/butthole-surfers-discography-review/
Ground Control Magazine – Butthole Surfers – self-titled 10” EP – [Review] https://groundcontrolmag.com/vinyl-vlog-702

Artist:
https://www.facebook.com/ButtholeSurfersMusic
https://www.instagram.com/buttholesurfers/?hl=en
https://buttholesurfersmovie.com
https://buttholesurfers.bandcamp.com

Album:
The thirtieth anniversary vinyl reissue of Electriclarryland is out now, limited to 3000 copies. Buy it here, on The Vinyl District. https://www.thevinyldistrict.com/storefront/tvd-radar-butthole-surfers-electriclarryland-30th-anniversary-2lp-reissue-in-stores-8-28/

The post The Classics 046 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.

Butthole Surfers – After The Astronaut LP – “Mexico”

A deeper look at the grooves pressed into Butthole Surfers’ After The Astronaut LP. I confess that, when a vinyl copy of Butthole Surfers’ After The Astronaut arrived on my desk, I was thrilled – but I held off on reviewing it right away. I figured, “Why rush? I already reviewed the album once years ago [with a CDR copy that was given to me by Surfers drummer King Coffey –ed], let others have their turn.” The problem with that logic proved to be that many of the current batch of “critics” didn’t really know how to approach the Butthole Surfers OR After The Astronaut, nor did they recognize that the context of the album’s delayed release is a pretty important plot point to the fact that it is now finally available. It’s in the spirit of choosing not to let history repeat itself and see Butthole Surfers go unappreciated by a whole new generation of writers who have been caught who have been caught in exactly the same pitfalls as their fore-bearers that I compose this warmer and more open-minded review.

As soon as needle catches groove on the A-side of After The Astronaut, the familiarity of the tone and form of The Weird Revolution is obvious – but that is not to say that one album is unrecognizable from the other. No, while The Weird Revolution and After The Astronaut both open both open with “The Weird Revolution” and the version on After The Astronaut is about thirty seconds longer than the one on The Weird Revolution, it also plays much tighter; the song’s mechanical beat penetrates the mix far more sharply/cleanly and singer Gibby Haynes’ bastardization/parody of Malcolm X’s impassioned 1963 speech follows suit by cutting through better and more cleanly than it did on The Weird Revolution. In the case of this particular cut, the difference between it and the version that appeared on The Weird Revolution is negligible; the production applied to this album is more vibrant, but any editing which might have been done to this version is really, really mild.

Immediately after “The Weird Revolution” closes, After The Astronaut‘s play gets better as “Intelligent Guy” swaps out the patchwork assembly that the song featured on The Weird Revolution and downshifts into an almost infectious, seething frenzy. Here, the play runs really fluidly and lets listeners feel the darkness and inherent danger about the song instead of constantly up- and downshifting, as the song did on The Wierd Revolution, and the same happens on this album’s version of “Jet Fighter,” which makes the best possible use of the “ballad of” style that the Surfers had been perfecting as far back as on Independent Worm Saloon (see “Ballad of Naked Man”), but skips the distortion and hobbled tempos which appear on the Weird Revolution version of the song. Weirdly, the focus and comparatively less frenzied version of “Mexico” which appears on After The Astronaut packs a fraction of the punch that its’ predecessor did on Weird Revolution, and so really weighs the play of the A-side down here – a fact only sort of remedied by the far more frenetic (and fun) play of “Imbuya” (the first cut on Astronaut to not feature a “different” version on The Weird Revolution) and the subdued-to-the-point-of-sounding-drugged version of “Venus,” which closes the side. Now, granted, just because “Venus” self-indulges in a trip-hoppy, lilting groove and Haynes only seeks to ride the vibe for about four minutes and not pen a decent lyric sheet (lines like, Yea, everybody talkin’ ’bout the seal in the sand/ And the steeple of the sequel will they every understand?/And the people in the window are the victims of the sky/And the lonesome need to bear it, I hope they just die,” are weak at most, and utterly meaningless, at least), that doesn’t mean the song is worthless – rather, the instrumental changes and watery styling are more than a little hypnotic and can hold listeners enthralled. When the song does let out, listeners may be surprised to discover that, as far as the play goes (and as familiar – given that, other than the reversed sitar noises which function as the bridge in the song, the rest of it is more like the variant of the same song on The Weird Revolution than any of the other “repeats”on that album), there’s a charged sensation that will have them ready to keep moving with the B-side of the album energetically, when the needle lifts.

As charged as “Venus” might leave listeners though, the fractured and elegiac feel of “The Last Astronaut” will leave them feeling as though that energy has just been sucked up with a straw, as it opens the B-side. Part of the problem here (arguably the greatest one, in fact) is that closing one side with a reasonably slow-moving cut just to open the next side with movement that is completely lacking in any energy at all is just too much of a forgettable thing to line up on Butthole Surfers album; even when the band came close to committing a similar sort of mistake on 1991’s piouhgd, the band didn’t end one side with a letdown and open the other with a similar thing so clearly.

Frustratingly, the band continues it trip-hopping trek through the B-side of After The Astronaut with the three-minute easy-listening snooze that is “Yentel” and the lyric-free, vaguely Poe-inspired knock-off “Junkie Jenny in Gaytown,” but the light at the end of the tunnel begins blazing brightly as soon as “They Came In” appears. There, listeners will be elated to discover that the version of the song – which was unceremoniously buried on the Mission Impossible 2 soundtrack in the year 2000, originally – appears without the extra synths and other digital nonsense that was attached to the Weird Revolution version, and really gets to shine. Here, an ominous rhythm blasts forth first with a guitar chord progression that immediately recalls dissonance in its half-step movement coupled with clattering digital touches on top and a haunting, paranoid vocal. Granted, the presentation isn’t perfect (it’s worth pointing out that the lyric sheet really just rearranges the same set of words in different sequences, really), but the less-cluttered mix makes it a lot easier to enjoy than its’ Weird Revolution counterpart; as repetitive as the song is (the lyric sheet is really only re-arrangements of the lines, “They came in the clothes that I’m in/ And through the phone on my wall/ They were strangers/ They drive in the car that I’m in/ And you never see their face at all/ They’re strangers,” repeated for five minutes and five seconds), it’s really easy to get hooked on and, when it does end, listeners may find the song genuinely addictive. After that, the side does begin to taper off as “I Don’t Have A Problem” keeps up with the repetitive vocal tradition that “They Came In” introduced but completely abandons song craft as a theremin squeals and a string section sample repeats and, honestly, gets kind of boring – when it’s stacked against how well the rest of the album plays.

…And, after “I Don’t Have A Problem” lets out and it has felt like the Butthole Surfers have run out of new things to try, the band gives up one last blast of hardcore brilliance in “Turkey And Dressing” before closing up shop. There, Paul Leary picks up a bass to add a driving force to his guitar snarl, completely casts off all of the electronic touches and sonic refinements that the band has added to their sound album-by-album and just aims to melt listeners’ collective face for one last cut. Here, drummer King Coffey lays down a pummelling assault comparable to when the Surfers featured two drummers on stage while Leary keeps to a simple and speedy rhythm part on guitar while putting an absolutely howling lead figure on top and Gibby Haynes issues a perfectly unintelligible vocal [the vinyl release doesn’t feature lyric sheet and, in vintage Surfers fashion, features Haynes bellowing into something which sounds like a megaphone – so what he’s saying is anyone’s guess –ed] for two-and-a-half-minute blast before simply shutting the sound down; no fade-out, no growling noise repeating to leave a final disconcerting sound, it’s just done. Honestly, that “Turkey And Dressing” does close as succinctly as it does will leave some listeners both surprised and nervous, in the end; long-time fans have grown accustomed to a sense of mania which seems not to know when (or how) to quit so, when they do exactly that here, they won’t know how to process it, right away.

Now, standing back from it and taking the entire album into account, every critic will ask themselves and their readers if After The Astronaut was really worth the wait and the myth-making about the album. On this critic’s case, I tend to believe that myth-making never holds up under scrutiny – but After The Astronaut isn’t without its charms; there are cuts here which are worth hearing by more than just the admittedly devout. By the same token though, I question if the presentation couldn’t have been done better – for example, in this era of deluxe reissues, wouldn’t it have been a good idea to press a double album version of this music which also includes the material which appears on The Weird Revolution, to give the whole story of this fraught album all in one box? If nothing else, it could be argued that, if the band chose to explore that avenue at some point, they’d have one more release to put on racks, at some point. All I’m saying is that, while fans will be interested in this release, they’d be interested in that one too. [Bill Adams]

Further Reading:
Ground Control Magazine – Butthole Surfers [Discography Review] https://groundcontrolmag.com/butthole-surfers-discography-review/
Ground Control Magazing – Butthole Surfers – self-titled 10” EP – [Review] https://groundcontrolmag.com/vinyl-vlog-702/

Artist:
https://www.facebook.com/ButtholeSurfersMusic
https://www.instagram.com/buttholesurfers/?hl=en
https://buttholesurfersmovie.com
https://buttholesurfers.bandcamp.com

Album:
The After The Astronaut LP is out now. Buy it here on Sunset Blvd Records’ official page. https://www.sunsetblvdrecords.com/

The post Vinyl Vlog 705 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.

A deeper look at the grooves pressed into Butthole Surfers’ self-titled 10” EP, released on Capitol Records in 1993. When Butthole Surfers signed with Capitol Records, it really must have seemed like anything was possible. By then, the years of living in a car, touring constantly and basically surviving on a steady diet of nothing were over; the band had unexpectedly broken through. Because they had attained a greater level of mainstream visibility, the band decided to live a little; because they had produced themselves on a shoestring budget for so long, they secured John Paul Jones (formerly of Led Zeppelin) to produce the album which would eventually become Independent Worm Saloon. To promote that album’s release, a selection of songs from it along with a couple of tracks which had fallen off during the sessions. It sounded like a solid potential seller, so the release was planned.

And, as soon as the release was planned, Butthole Surfers took it upon themselves to start messing with the whole idea, and made it generally confusing – in so doing. First, while the band already had a self-titled EP in their catalogue (it had been released on Jello Biafra’s Alternative Tentacles label in 1983), no one attached a name to this one to differentiate it from the other one. In addition, it was packaged in an opaque silver plastic bag with a fly on it, pressed on a ten-inch plate of brown vinyl (yes, for the obvious joke about flies and what they often land on) that spins at 45 rpm (or should – but if you play it at 33 rpm, it sounds even more terrifying) and enclosed in a sleeve which features a truly awful and confusing image that is difficult to identify. The idea of this release is the epitome of the weirdness that has always been associated with Butthole Surfers, but because it was pressed and released in incredibly limited quantities [this EP was sent to college radio stations, but never released in large numbers for sale –ed], it holds the distinction of being one of the more collectible commodities in the the band’s oeuvre too.

Those who can find a copy of Butthole Surfers 10” EP will recognize the rarity and perverse nature of what they have as soon as needle catches groove and “Chewin’ George Lucas’ Chocolate” opens the A-side with a wholly scatological joke before launching into the truly fantastic “Goofy’s Concern.” There, guitarist Paul Leary, bassist Jeff Pinkus and drummer King Coffey just explode into a cut which plays a little like the best Black Sabbath song you never heard – being played at 78 RPM instead of 45. The guitar figure which dominates the cut growls and spits furiously over a heavy and amped up rhythm section which absolutely owes its sound to the bass player of Led Zeppelin, but the greatest spotlight finds singer Gibby Haynes, here. By 1993, Haynes had already been manipulating his voice for years to great and terrifying effect on songs like “Sweat Loaf,” “U.S.S.A.,” “Tornados” and “To Parter,” but the Gibbytronix effects on his voice have really matured on “Goofy’s Concern” – Haynes’ doubled howls sound like a machine malfunctioning in a bathroom, and the “I don’t give a fuck about [insert random social construct – like “the CIA,” for example –ed]” reoccurring lyrics make for the catchiest kind of mindless nihilism that the band had committed to tape, up to that point. On this EP, the A-side ends with a cut called “Beat The Press” which is actually just the vomit sounds which appeared in “Clean It Up” without even the impression of the music which stretched that experiment out to over eight and a half minutes in duration (the sounds of vomit only last for a minute and a half, here), before the needle lifts and the side wants changing. It’s honestly not even sort of a great note (if one can even call it that) to close on, but perverse curiosity is still capable of causing listeners to want to continue on with the EP – the Surfers often had a history of shining a couple of turds up so bright that they could be spectacular when no one expected it, and that hope endures, here.

…And, while absolutely meaning to sound coy, hope and the Butthole Surfers’ tradition of burying some great, brown gems endures on the B-side of this 10”. “Gandhi” opens the running there. There, Haynes’ vocals are really little more than half-formed demo quality, and phrases like, “I know a secret” and, “My mind goes on forever” sound good but feature nothing in the way of a relatable punchline. Even so, the stringy, almost Rickenbacker-sounding guitar parts make for a surreal brand apart from almost every other song in the Surfers’ book and are capable of sounding hypnotic as the song progresses, and prove to stand as an excellent contrast to the completely unintelligible, swirling Gibbytronic showcase that is “Neee Neee.” There, Butthole Surfers both preview and deconstruct the effects and electronic touches which would later characterize both After The Astronaut and The Weird Revolution; metallic, squealing sounds pan left and right in a truly dizzying fashion but, just as listeners begin to really appreciate the sounds and general impression of sensory deprivation which comes with them, the cut finds its way into something which has a melodic form for about thirty seconds, and then it implodes. The effect caused by that implosion is a jarring one for listeners, but then stylus lifts and those who have fun front-to-back with this ten-inch will have no choice but to accept that the ride is over, and there is no more.

This critic won’t deny that, in spite of the fact that this EP is now thirty-three years old (yup, it’s 33 – there was a perfectly trite reason why the choice was made to review it this year: the anniversary is meaningless unless you choose to believe that the speed at which the record spins means something), only a few among the Butthole Surfers’ fanbase will appreciate the band’s self-titled 10”. There’s no question that, even within the band’s gleefully difficult catalogue, Butthole Surfers is a difficult release to understand or appreciate. It should be said though that, while it’s difficult, it’s not impossible and, with the Surfers finally releasing the long, long long-delayed album After The Astronaut, this year, revisiting this weird little 10” beast next month as a primer seems apt. For those who are itching to get weird and are ready for a revolution – even if they have to hunt unreasonably hard for a copy – this is a good place to pick up the trail before June. [Bill Adams]

Further Reading:
Ground Control Magazine – Butthole Surfers – [Discography Review]

Artist:
https://www.buttholesurfers.com
https://buttholesurfers.bandcamp.com
https://www.facebook.com/ButtholeSurfersMusic

Album:
Finding a copy of Butthole Surfers’ self-titled 10” EP is, at this point, only really possible on Ebay (unless the band spontaneously decides to reissue it). However, consolation can be found in the release of After The Astronaut which is coming out on June 26, 2026. Pre-order it here on Sunset Blvd Records.

What Butthole Surfers’ 10” EP looks like, under the plastic

The post Vinyl Vlog 702 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.

A deeper look at the grooves pressed into the Buddha Jabba Momma LP by Chomp. As much as I like the artwork on the front cover (before I heard a note of the music on Buddha Jabba Momma, I was captivated by the cover’s similarity to some of the artwork on the interior of the Plastic Fang LP by Jon Spencer Blues Explosion), I had to remind myself that interesting aesthetics do not make a good album. I also needed to remind myself that it doesn’t matter whether or not Exit Stencil is still in business as a record label, so the fact that I slept on this release is irrelevant. Really, the only thing that should matter about an album is the music on it – and, in this case, when I finally did put on Buddha Jabba Momma, Chomp had me in second. As soon as I heard the words, “This is bullshit” – the opening line from “Standing To Fail” – the first sound on the album.

As far as it is from what I expected Buddha Jabba Momma to be, the album still didn’t take long to win me over. From moment one, the album revels in a permutation of indie/garage rock that is not at all over-produced (it doesn’t sound airy, but mixes are not over-compressed or packed with too many ideas), but doesn’t sound like it was made for five dollars, either.”Standing To Fail” sets the standard for the album as, with pop-punk inspired vocals, keeps up the snide-but-not-snotty pattern set by “Standing To Fall” very nicely; the guitars stay tight, and nothing in the song has time to get boring. “Hammers And Nails” tests listeners’ patience by turning up the gain on Scott Reid Jr.’s drum kit and miking it nearly override the song, and that “too loud for its own good” style remains a staple through “Witch Hunt” and “Baited,” when the needle lifts and the side wants changing.

Those unfamiliar with Buddha Jabba Momma might be put off from the album in reading this review, but they shouldn’t be. The fact is that, on first listen, the occasionally abrasive production choices can be off-putting – but listeners won’t be able to keep themselves from returning because, after the shock subsides, the sweetness of the songs – the vocal melodies, the punky structure and the brevity of the songs – endures and remains in the memory of those who hear them and, after hearing that on the album’s A-side, the decision to stay with the record through the B- will already have been made.

…And the B-side upholds its promise, right away. “Throw Out Your Wish List” makes the most of Bowery-born guitars recorded with just the right amount of volume-powered overdrive, while singer/guitarist Joe Boyer [formerly of Cloud Nothings –ed] continues showing listeners his fantastic trick of sounding both bored and excited at the same time. “Fresh Wounds” offers a great surprise by completely re-thinking the form of the album and injecting vocal melodies which are more accomplished and stylized than listeners would expect, and then the band skirts copyright infringement cases which could be brought by bands like Coda Reactor or Emily’s Army and just rocks balls-out for a few minutes before playing the exct same trick through “Mind Rape.”

As Buddha Jabba Momma begins to reach its late-playing, it also begins to contract from the hard rocking it did through “Mind Rape” and “Fresh Wounds.” “Mission Demolition” is a great shock in that regard because while those running front-to-back with the album might expect the song to live up to its name, it actually defies expectation and delivers a rocking but reserved mutant. There, the guitars bounce back and forth from hard to soft as one might expect an alt-rock song to do, but the gentility of the song existing outside that time period creates a completely different impression for listeners to try and find their way into. The same is true of the almost whimsical guitars which power “In Dreams I Pull Out My Teeth” – the sweetness and relaxed delivery of the song are a very good and bright contrast to the earlier playing of the record, but listeners may feel confused when the song REMAINS in that box, instead of breaking out of it to seem more energetic.

The “break out” that listeners were expecting in the twilight of “In Dreams I Pull Out My Teeth” finally shows up as soon as “To Save Everything” opens to close out the album, and does its’ job in an instantly gratifying manner. There, with a sound which qualifies as “crash, zing,” the band just launches into an indie rock anthem which inhabits The Strokes’ spirit and still manages to play it a little more excitedly for good measure. Lines like, “I’ll let you all go/ To play all the shows/ To put in my time and pay my dues” are the ones included here because they’re the only ones which are intelligable – and while that might not sound like the single most glowing endorsement, the fact is that anyone who hears “To Save Everything” will be completely hooked and won by the energy of the performance alone. The passion is absolutely brilliant – and while some listeners may have been able to slip through the album unhooked to this point, no one will be able to get away from “To Save Everything” and, because it closes the album, it ensures that listeners will see the record in a different light when they begin it again – and they will begin it again, indubitably.

All of that sounds pretty good, right? It IS pretty good – the catch is that Buddha Jabba Momma might just have been Chomp’s swan song. Looking around online, Exit Stencil Recordings has not been terribly active in recent years (about fourteen of them, in fact) and the band itself hasn’t proiven to be terribly easy to track down either. Even so though, it’s still possible to find copies of Buddha Jabba Momma both as a download and on vinyl (the album is currently available at https://www.crazyvinylrecordshop.com/product/chomp-buddha-jabba-momma-vinyl-lp/ for sale for 5.99 (REALLY!) and for 8.99 as a download on Exit Stencil’s bandcamp page. That’s right readers, this record marks one of the few occasions when a digital copy of the album costs more than a vinyl copy. No matter how you slice it though, there’s no way to deny that this album got terribly overlooked. Over a decade on, Buddha Jabba Momma deserves greater reappraisal and rediscovery – regardless of the format on which listeners find it. [Bill Adams]

Artist:
https://chomp-bjm.bandcamp.com/album/buddha-jabba-mommahttps://chomp-bjm.bandcamp.com/album/buddha-jabba-momma

Album:
Chomp’s Buddha Jabba Momma LP is still available on vinyl and as a download. Buy the digital version here on bandcamp and here on vinyl.

The post Vinyl Vlog 699 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.

A deeper look at the grooves pressed into the Hand On Heart LP by Cock Sparrer. While it would be easy for critics to claim that there are a finite number of ways to make an English-sounding or uniquely “Bostonian” punk record (see Dropkick Murphys’ catalogue for a Cliff’s Notes summary of that story so far), it should definitely go to Cock Sparrer’s credit that the band has managed to produce a solid and captivating listen in their Hand On Heart LP without deviating far from what it has been long-established are their strengths. How the band has accomplished this for their eighth album is really, really simple: as they’ve always done, Cock Sparrer ambitiously tries to change exactly nothing about their sound, and simply stands up to be seen and make no excuse for where they’ve been for the last seven years [the most recent seven-year gap in output marks the longest in the band’s catalogue –ed] or why it took so long to basically make a carbon copy of their 2017 album, Forever.

As soon as needle catches groove and “With My Hand On My Heart” (which is about as close as the album gets to having a title track) erupts from speakers, long-time fans may feel gratified to find that not much has changed in the band’s overall sound, while those with a more critical ear, may be able to pick out a few potential problems. Right away, for example, singer Colin McFaull sounds every day of the fifty-four years he’s spent on the mic for Cock Sparrer; his voice isn’t haggard from use, but certainly comes off as wooden and nowhere near as flexible as one would hope to find in front of a punk band. Likewise, lines like “Do the right thing, sometimes take one for the team/ Don’t let compromise light the path to someone else’s dream/ I’ll be right here to the end from the start/ This I swear with my hand on my heart” bear little resemblance to the sense of youthful rebellion normally associated with punk, and while the instrumental performances put down by guitarists Daryl Smith and Mick Beaufoy, bassist Steve Burgess and drummer Steve Bruce all ring as the kind of solid and incendiary punk that fans expect and completely and welcome, it’s still hard not to feel like they’re running through the motions; like competent professionalism over aggressive expression.

After the smooth start of “With My Hand On My Heart,” Cock Sparrer continues to earnestly fill out the form and sound of the album. “Mind Your Own Business” strikes a pretty good balance between McFaull’s vocal tone and the almost lyrical hook of the lead guitar hook, while the whole band chips in to enrich the sound of “Belong To You” (which sounds counterintuitive for punk in theory, but works very well in practice), but everyone in the band erases any ground they might have won when “Rags To Riches” throws every “old man” cliche squarely into listeners’ collective face [the “I ain’t got a pound for a round” line sounds like it might have been lifted right out of William H. Macy’s dialogue in an episode of Shameless –ed] and forces them to just sit and stare at them for four minutes and twenty seconds – and basically defining the idea of being “all dressed up with nowhere to go” in so doing. Listeners will at least feel a little redeemed when “No Way Out” runs closer to being a genuine pop-punk anthem to close the side. There, McFaull makes the most of having the song’s hook in his mouth every time he barks the “No way out” lyrical rejoinder, and Steve Bruce makes sure that listeners don’t miss the point as he hammers every syllable home with his drum kit. After that, when the song ends and needle lifts, listeners will probably be amiable enough to flip the record over and see what else Cock Sparrer has for them but, unlike innumerable other records where the decision of whether or not to continue on with the record is absolute, the answer here is far more open-ended; on the right day, listeners may be game for more but, on the wrong day, they might decide that one side was enough – then they can pick up at a later date – maybe.

Unfortunately, the B-side does not open anywhere near as well as the high points established on the A-. Right off at the top of “Take It On The Chin,” McFaull exposes every flaw in his vocal performance and, as was true during “Rags To Riches” simply forces listeners to sit with them; they’ll find themselves flinching at every imperfection in the vocal and blinking at every crash on the drum kit, and they’ll find themselves overjoyed when the song taps out four minutes and fifteen seconds after it started. “One Way Ticket” suffers from similar problems in that the horn section which inexplicably appears as soon as the song starts immediately saturates the song’s movement. Listeners will feel completely restrained and stifled as what sounds like an orchestra rather than a lean and contained horn section tries t buoy but ultimately drowns the instrumentation in the song, and the vocal performance ends up sounding more like a secondhand Springsteen cast-off than than anything anyone would expect of a self respecting punk band. Unfortunately, the higher register tones endure through “Nowhere To Be Found” immediately after “One Way Ticket” too and may cause listeners’ ears to ring as the treble seems to increase throughout the song to torment them for four minutes. Simply said, while the A-side of the album had moments which occasionally tested listeners patience, the B-side seems intent on pressing its luck every step of the way through it to the point that, when “Here We Stand” arrives to close out the running, listeners who have run front-to-back with with Hand On Heart may find themselves exhaling sharply in equal amount of frustration and derision that the album is coming to an end with a laden thud. In “Here We Stand,” once again, all of the elements which have just sought to detract from the band’s sound (that McFaull’s voice is a ghost of its former powers, that the lyrics aren’t great and that the solid instrumental performances) end up amplifying those shortcomings instead of covering for them, and then the whole thing just sort of collapses in on itself at album’s close.

So, if readers have managed to make it all the way through this review and are still (somehow) unclear on how this the final summary of the album is going to read, Hand On Heart is an unrelenting disappointment – and will be particularly frustrating for those who remember the calibre of the group in their prime. Where Cock Sparrer was once a spry, angry and dismissive entity who once took more than a little bit of joy in spitting in listeners’ ears, the band just doesn’t have the energy to spare, if they want to get worked up. It never feels good to tell a band they need to retire, but that’s the point we’re at, with Hand On Heart. [Bill Adams]

Artist:
http://www.cocksparrer.co.uk/
https://www.facebook.com/cocksparreruk
https://www.instagram.com/cocksparrer

Album:
Cock Sparrer’s Hand On Heart LP is out now. Buy it here, directly from Pirates Press Records.

The post Vinyl Vlog 698 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.

A deeper look at the grooves pressed into the Before You Get Broken LP by Guest Directors. It has often been said that a band’s debut album is intended to introduce that band to the world – but their sophomore release is more for the band itself. It might come from a desire to push boundaries or simply to establish that the band in question is capable of doing more than just reproducing the strengths that their debut album presented, but it can easily be said that a band’s sophomore album is often a significant reaction to what came before it – in one way or another. That logic definitely feels like it holds up when one listens to Before You Get Broken, Guest Directors’ sophomore LP; when the band released Interference Patterns in 2023, much was made about the fact that the group featured members of well-established acts like TAD and Chinchilla and featured a rocky, guitar-focused sound similar to the same – but even a cursory listen proved that there might be more things at work beneath the surface than just an expression of musicianship by well-established musicians, removed from the context which brought them acclaim. With the pressure to prove themselves now off though, Guest Directors have returned with a new album which doesn’t try to do the same thing twice at all – in fact, this time, singer/guitarist Julie D. takes both the reigns and the mic (her voice is more prominent on Before You Get Broken) and steers the band in a much dreamier and melodic direction.

As soon as stylus catches groove on the A-side of Before You Get Broken, the change in both sound and style is simply impossible to miss. Right away, icy and effects-frosted guitars replace the rockier, more straightforward designs that dominated the songs on Interference Patterns, and the overall impression left is one which implies a completely different instrumental tone; where Guest Directors once aimed to establish and present a hard and rocky sound, the goal here appears to be to lay out something that is more texturally focused. In addition, while Gary Thorstensen used to split vocal duties with singer/guitarist Julie D., she has stepped forward into a much more centrally focused location in the music. Here, D. places herself within the mix (not above or outside of it) between the chilly instrumental atmospherics, and splits her time sliding with them or letting them slip easily past her – but she doesn’t try to warm them at all. The result is pretty remarkable; lines like, “Move with the tides/ Once I swam with grace/ But now I walk on knives/ The rain fell away/ The difference feels so strange” do not point directly at any one subject in particular, but they do give listeners the opportunity to paint the image that the lyrics lead them to, with their own imaginations. That not-so-obvious bait proves to be just exactly what listeners need to get them locked into the experience and what easily spurs them along to continue, as well – when “Meet You On The Land” fades to a close.

After its opening cut sets most of the precedents for Before You Get Broken, the album continues fleshing out its form, in earnest – but not at all in the same way that the band assembled its debut. On “You Are Never,” for example, Guest Directors leave their overdrive pedals un-stomped – but listeners will still be able to feel the energy in the cut increase as the tempo steps up and the inherent excitement of lyrics like, “You can make believe/ Or you can make it real” flows forth, brilliantly. The power there is fantastic and quickly turns exhilarating as listeners realize that the band is using none of the conventional means to make it feel the way it does; not with volume, not with distortion, not with a series of most rock stars’ favorite four-letter words – no, the energy and power here simply comes from the band’s presence, as well as how they choose to present themselves. The result is fantastic, of course, and sustains the song beautifully – “Now I Know” keeps running through the icy power of its predecessors as well as sneaking in some Police-y energy which shades the running really well before “Just Not Today” recalls the power, guitar performance of Interference Patterns as well as bringing Gary Thorstensen back to the mic for the first time since Interference Patterns too. Reading how that comes across in print might come off as being stacked a little awkwardly, but the fact is that each cut presents a different set of variables really clearly and plays out wonderfully, which means that every time the band changes up its’ form, listeners find they have to re-establish a new balance. As difficult as it might seem to be, that balance rings through beautifully as soon as “So Many Somedays” enters gently to close the A-side. There, Guest Directors quickly establish a great sense of ambience with the inclusion of some warm major chords as well as some very unusual added instrumentation (including what sounds like a harpsichord?) in the mix, all balanced by a truly gorgeous vocal performance from Julie D. The result is a genuinely lush composition which stands miles from what listeners expect from a band who first gained prominence as a guitar-rock group, but no one listening will complain at all – until the cut begins to fade and listeners recall that the sides of Before You Get Broken will need changing. They’ll do their duty quickly, of course, because they’ll be hoping to keep the energy which powered the A-side rolling seamlessly through the B-.

As smoothly as listeners may have hoped the transition might happen between the A- ans B-sides of Before You Get Broken though, they’ll find that their senses are shaken quite a bit as needle catches groove and “Restore Your Soul” kicks the movement off. There, growling and doubled guitars are guaranteed to make listeners blink while Thorstensen recaptures the mic armed with a lyric sheet about losing control that he delivers – very drowsily. As a whole, the song plays like the dictionary definition of an album cut (which would probably play better on CD because it could blend better with the other songs – instead of getting added focus as the first song on a new side), but the side is completely redeemed and the energy is quickly reset with “Blame Pandora,” which sees the band return to a smoother and dreamier form. Throughout the song, Rian Turner’s drums sparkle as polyrhythms keep listeners looking for an easy entry point and, while the guitars in the song are slick and easy to appreciate, the song as a whole is really self-contained; it’s only when the energy increases and the guitars begin to clip during the song’s bridge that the play begins to unravel a little, but it tightens up again before the cut closes and ends up finishing really well. After that, “At The Gate” makes the most of its mid-tempo movement and Thorstensen’s very indie-identified vocal performance (read: the lyrics keep to a very simple melody) as well as the single greatest guitar solo on the whole record before finally closing the record with the epic, indie by way of classic rock exercise which is “What Shapes They Take.” There, the band really takes a surprising turn as Thorstensen adds an effect which nearly makes his guitar sound like a sitar and Julie D. advises listeners to not fight the form they’re trying and just let it wash over them. Those listeners who re wise enough to take the singer’s advice will find that they’re warmed by it and don’t even notice that it’s the longest song on the record. In fact, listeners will find that when they give themselves to it, they’ll be sorry and maybe even a little embittered to hear it fade out because, by then, they’ll find that they would have been hoping for more no matter when the album closed.

After having run front-to-back with Before You Get Broken, listeners will find that they’ve been given a new appreciation for Guest Directors. True, when Interference Patterns was released, it found an audience and did so understandably – but Before You Get Broken proves that it can not only satisfy that audience, it is also capable of winning one of a completely different sort as well. In that regard, Guest Directors prove that they are a band of a completely different sort from their peers, and deserve to be judged as a completely unique, autonomous entity. For that reason too, those who are won by Before You Get Broken would be wise to find whatever the band does next with no hard and fast ideas about any one particular type of sound they might use – Before You Get Broken stands as proof that Guest Directors deserves to get a much more open mind than many of their peers. [Bill Adams]

Further Reading:
Ground Control Magazine – Vinyl Vlog 623 – Guest Directors – Interference Patterns LP

Artist:
https://www.guestdirectors.com/
https://guestdirectors.bandcamp.com
https://ampwall.com/a/guestdirectors
https://tidal.com/artist/8021749
https://www.instagram.com/guestdirectors
https://www.facebook.com/guestdirectors

Album:
Before You Get Broken will be released on May 1, 2026 on Topsy Records. The nine-song record is now available for pre-order (on vinyl, CD, and digital). Order it here on Guest Directors’ official bandcamp page.

The post Vinyl Vlog 697 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.

A deeper look at the grooves pressed into the Do You Really Wanna Know? LP by Plizzken. I confess that European punk (the stuff from mainland Europe – not from the British Isles) has often been a pretty hard sell, to me. I don’t mean that to come off as a slight or cultural bias, the music is just often hit or miss for me; even going back to albums like The State of Punk To Come and albums by bands like Millencolin, the music had to work unreasonably hard to generate favorable notice, for me, and that has never really changed – over the years. With that longstanding hesitation to really give Euro-punk a chance in mind, I feel like it’s saying something that, with the Do You Really Wanna Know? LP, Plizzken has really broken through the glass ceiling, for me. I’ve reviewed some of the band’s releases before, but Do You Really Wanna Know? Is the one which is truly worthy of praise, and really qualifies as an achievement.

As soon as “On The Hunt” opens the A-side of the album, Plizzken hits the ground running with more verve and power on previous releases. Singer Sebi Walkenhorst howls loud but without getting too ornate in his vocal melody, and guitarists Silvio Schlesier and Erik Henning, bassist Markus Walther and drummer Stefan Herz all fall quickly find their positions behind him in a needs-first kind of way; no extra sparks of chaos and no flash is thrown in, the band just blasts in and blasts out again. That first cut is a simple statement – and it’s perfect.

After “On The Hunt” gets the album moving, Piizzken begins shifting gears regularly to show listeners that they have have more to offer than just one note. “One More Time,” ironically, downshifts and flies through a great boot boy blast before “Nassau Nightlife” grunts its way through some beefy street punk and “Mad World” relies on gang vocals and leaner guitar tones to really get over with listeners, but the greatest surprise appears on the B-side of the album – when “Life Won’t Wait” converts what might have started as a stock song cribbed from Rancid into a great, classic punk anthem. There, Walkenhorst aims to just entertain with his lyrics, but this set quickly turns into something more affirming as listeners realize that while the standard hard luck and hard lessons lyrics are here, but also lines which actively tell listeners to take and ensure that no one gets hurt along the way through. “Life Won’t Wait” comes off as being almost hypnotic because, as was also true elsewhere on the album, no contrived sparkle gets added to prop up the song – it doesn’t need that – the guitars, bass and drums just batter listeners until they’re starry-eyed, and all they’ll do is ask for more – in the end.

As the B-side progresses, listeners will find more to love than just “Life Won’t Wait.” “Enough Is Enough” blasts out with pop-punk bombast and acoustic punk delicacy in the same song, in the name of highlighting diversity of form and it works surprisingly well, “Off To Reality” hey-hey-heys its way into a blissful state of contentment which sounds familiar but still plays as fresh and the album’s title track revives New Wave-era Against Me pop punk in a way that (defying probability) manages to not sound contrived. There’s really no way to overstate how easy it would have been for Plizzken to come off as a parody of both punk and themselves utilizing the tools they used to make Do You Really Wanna Know?, but there’s no denying that the album plays really well and can easily justify repeated listens on any day, at any time. It’s surprising how easy it is to say that this album marks a leap both up and forward for Plizzken and, after having run front-to-back with the album, it becomes very easy to hope for more music of the same calibre. Here’s hoping…. [Bill Adams]

Artist:
https://www.plizzken.com
https://www.facebook.com/plizzkenpunkrock
https://www.instagram.com/plizzken_punkrock

Album:
Plizzken’s Do You Really Wanna Know? LP is out now. Buy it here, directly from Pirates Press Records.

The post Vinyl Vlog 695 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.

A deeper look at the grooves pressed into 45 Adapters’ Unstoppable LP. After having released a series of records of different sizes and speeds since the band formed in 2008 (to date, the band has released six EPs, splits and singles), it’s kind of funny when one realizes that Unstoppable is only the second full-length album which bears 45 Adapters’ name; they just always seem to be working on promoting something, so that their output includes just two full-length albums is unbelievable. Equally unbelievable is the height of the quality of the lion’s share of the songs on Unstoppable – from front to back, the album features a dozen cuts, many of which are the sort which can start a sense of undying appreciation in those who hear them.

The high quality of the music that 45 Adapters has made for Unstoppable starts to become evident as soon as needle catches groove on the album’s A-side when its’ title track opens it; there, while the guitars and bass seem to play a little behind the drums, the vocals are right on top of the beat and so cause listeners to follow every word as closely as they follow the snap of the snare drum. That it calls listeners to attention is without question but, wisely, the band’s call in the song only lasts for the song’s two-and-a-half minute duration; that way, it’s able energizing instead of leaching power away from the performance.

With the precedent set by “Unstoppable,” the A-side simply tries to keep the exact same kind of sentiments and energy running, and it achieves that goal very well. “Coming Up Empty” does far better than its name implies as, with lines like, “We spend money we don’t have on things we don’t need/ Worship politicians, worship celebrities” issue a harsh indictment of the current cultural fascination with political tribalism. The side slips a little when “But I Can’t” forgets to include some overdrive on the guitars (which leaves the cut playing lean and far less effectively than anyone would like), but regains the ground it lost when “86400” speeds its way along with a really cute bass line in the driver’s seat and ”Save The Day” finally adds some overdrive and gives the guitars just the right amount of crunch. There too, singer Carlos Congote keeps his vocals acutely melodic, but steers away from Glenn Danzig and closer to Greg Graffin’s style – which helps to reset how the songs play overall.

While it might have seemed like 45 Adapters took an unreasonably long time to find a rhythm to fall into on the A-side (the band didn’t hit the same spot twice – choosing instead to test drive a different sound and style for every cut), the band sounds like they’re finally getting comfortable when “Guilty By Participation” comes up to close the side. There, the band hits a really slick and smooth stride as Congote laments the price of consequences that he found in his youth (but does not number here), and ends up implying a sense of regret as well as a sense of resignation in so doing. Granted, it could be argued that the vaguery with which Congote delivers these lanes basically takes a long time to say very little, but the song plays well and, when it ends, the result is that listeners won’t have time to think long about whether they have the desire to flip the record over to see where this drama might be headed, they’ll just do it.

…And, while critics likely won’t have trouble questioning if the juice was worth the squeeze, true believers won’t have to work hard to find some things to love on the B-side of Unstoppable. While the ska flavoring in “Refuse To Die” leaves something to be desired (some voices simply sound wooden when they try to sing ska, and Congote’s is one of them), “Bent & Broken” finds a great way to get the instruments and the vocal melody to work together, and transfers that strength to “Con Man From Queens” too. In fact, it could easily be argued that the chord progression in the song and the performance of it are the best on the album.

Of course, as soon as anyone characterizes any cut on an album as, “the best on the album,” every return thereafter will seem diminished. In the case of Unstoppable, “Those Who Quit” just drags along ineffectually for just under two minutes without leaving any kind of positive impression before “Are You Down” romanticizes the smell of death over a pretty good pop punk progression, but it just comes far too late to matter. By then, Congote has already run his clearly limited energy levels out – and the last two and a half minutes of the album’s running are spent by listeners just trying to give the band enough respect and listen to them run their muse out – even if they’re not sure if it’s actually worth while. Honestly, that’s one of the greatest problems with Unstoppable both in the late playing and as a whole: on shorter releases (EPs, singles) 45 Adapters have illustrated that they’re capable of producing great music – they’ve just consistently come up short on longer-form releases. That’s a shame, but it doesn’t make it any less true – and Unstoppable is unfortunate proof of that. Here’s hoping that the band returns to something more succinct soon. [Bill Adams]

Artist:
https://45adapters.com
https://www.facebook.com/45Adapters
https://45adapters.bandcamp.com/album/unstoppable
https://www.instagram.com/45adapters

Album:
45 Adapters’ Unstoppable LP is out now. Buy it here, directly from Pirates Press Records.

The post Vinyl Vlog 694 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.

A deeper look at the grooves pressed into the Modify The Sacred LP by Seized Up. Let’s get this out of the way first, because it’s almost never the thing that metal heads like to read: as metallic as Modify The Sacred is, it’s impossible to deny that the album has a sizable punk streak running through it too. From front-to-back, for example, it’s very easy to hear reflections of Keith Morris’ vocal styling in singer Clifford Dinsmore’s vocal delivery. The feedback which helps to power the guitar parts on songs like “Forum Of Decay” overloads just like innumerable grunge and punk bands. The busy bass in “Force Fed Hate” isn’t quite as fast as Matt Freeman’s, but it is not even a little bit as plodding as the average cut by Black Sabbath or Iron Maiden. That might be a deal breaker for some readers; they’ll say they know what they like – in self-defence – and updating that which they find most flavorful is neither required, nor is it acceptable.

To them, I say, “Fine. You’re missing out – Modify The Sacred lives up to its name, and this will end up being the album you wish you heard.”

There is just no denying how solid Modify The Sacred is, from front-to-back. As soon as needle catches groove and “Deathweb” opens the A-side of the album, listeners are assaulted to a searing blast of incendiary guitars and guttural bass lines which are all pushed by a great drum performance – and are simply left to sink or swim against that established current. That is, needless to say, an imposing start – but when Clifford Dinsmore (previously of BL’AST!) enters the mix, his presence and performance changes the game (escalates it) completely; sounding like a more muscular version of Keith Morris, Dinsmore wastes no time and asserts himself in the mix. Right away, those vocals make the mix just feel oppressively thick and dense; guitars grind, drums pound and bass throbs, and Dinsmore rides on top of that wave, delivering an incredibly acerbic tone. Lines which make mention of vermin, difficult conditions and trying to rise above it all slither into listeners’ collective consciousness and, on the wrong day, can be incredibly off-putting – but also they’re also incendiary and can utterly win fans, on the right one.

…And luckily, the band has a whole lot more of what “Deathweb” offers in reserve for listeners. As the A-side continues, “Forum Of Decay” follows right behind “Deathweb” and really firms up the consistent sounds and aspects of the album; namely, the dark themes which manifested in the lyrics also appear in the punk-via-metal guitars, the thick bass and the enormous drum sound – but unlike how other bands balance all that while still keeping their focus on punk (as Cancer Bats have been known to do, and also how Rancid’s Matt Freeman’s side projects) Seized Up manages to keep the sound consistent without collapsing into novelty. On “Forum Of Decay,” for example, Seized Up emphasizes the dark, metallic tones that “Deathweb” led with, and increases them by making the beat kick just a little harder while Dinsmore gets just a little more dramatic (which makes him sound like he’s really trying to perform – much like Keith Morris did with OFF! on Free LSD). The results easily further the album’s development and, while that development does stall as the A-side progresses (to be clear, “Force Fed Hate” just can’t keep itself from sounding lyrically trite but musically excellent, and “Omen Of Despair” inverts the formula that the band used for “Force Fed Hate” but ends up being completely forgettable), the manic energy increases perfectly when the side closes with “What You Kill”. There, Seized Up slows down slightly to really project confidence, which sets Dinsmore up perfectly when he parts the band’s walls of sound to defiantly claim, “You won’t keep us down.” It’s a perfectly satisfying close for the side because it ensures that listeners will still be looking for something comparable at the top of the B-side.

As much as they’re still looking for more of the same when listeners flip Modify The Sacred over they’ll discover that they’re getting more more than they bargained for. There, while “Turn Christian and Move Inland” begins at a stomp rather than a run for the first few barres, business picks up quickly and while the lyrics are focused on, “Slowly dying,” the tempo of the song stands in clear opposition to that (read: it’s a really fast mover, at three minutes and seven seconds), and holds that speed through “Hanging in the Balance” – which holds the distinction of being this critic’s favorite cut on the album because the tones from the guitars just wail in agony while the vocals come nowhere close to anything comparable.

Unfortunately, the late-playing of Modify The Sacred does hit a couple of faults as it moves along (“Mindfield” tries some low-fi indie production on for size and discovers that such trappings never fit a metal band, and the auto-wah effects on the guitar of “United in Frustration” just come close to inspiring headaches), but Seized Up still manages to close out Modify The Sacred well and soundly with “Forged in Fire.” There, guitarist Danny Buzzard finally gets his greatest due on the album; here, Buzzard hits his palm-muted marks perfectly, and plays more for the song than for a solo [there is some lead work, but it remains tasteful –ed]. Those who have run front-to-back with Modify The Sacred will find the end that ‘Forged In Fire” gives Modify The Sacred incredibly gratifying; while the album isn’t without its’ faults, the final cut perfectly sticks the landing and leaves listeners feeling energized. [Bill Adams]

Artist:
https://www.facebook.com/seizedupsc
https://www.instagram.com/seizedupsc/?hl=en
https://seizedupsc.bandcamp.com

Further Reading:
Vinyl Vlog 458 – Seized Up – Brace Yourself LP

Album:
Modify The Sacred is out now. Buy it here, directly from Pirate’s Press Records.

The post Vinyl Vlog 693 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.

A deeper look at the grooves pressed into the Overtime 12” EP by SLIP~ons. It might read as being anti-climactic but, on SLIP~ons’ new Overtime EP, the Vancouver-based band establishes that its last release was not intended to establish any new musical directions for them to later explore or anything like that – the band was just being who it is, and it happened to be captured on tape. The proof is apparent on this new Overtime EP, because the band does exactly the same thing, again; as the band did before, SLIP~ons knock out seven solid rock songs with no spectacular developments, no ridiculous acts of self-indulgence and no presence of “Gee whiz!” spectacle. Once again, the band simply offers fans some more of the sound which qualifies as essential for the band’s existence. Simply said, those listeners who were won by the band on their last release will be won all over again.

As soon as stylus touches down, finds its groove and Overtime‘s title track opens the A-side of this EP, those fans who were won over by SLIP~ons’ previous output (particularly 2023’s Heavy Machinery EP ) will know that they came to the right place. Right off, the band ensnares listeners’ attention with a guitar and drum performance that seems designed to inspire worry and unease in much the same way that Matt Good did in the more uptempo moments of Beautiful Midnight, but it is contrasted here when singer/guitarist Brock Pytel enters the mix with a completely different kind of presence. Lines like, “The battleship has left the harbour now/ Breathed his last/In a Honda/ Full of silver/ Behind the London Drug/ On Hastings Street” actually match the sense of unease – but the vocal itself will leave listeners off-balance; they won’t know what to do or how to feel – they’ll simply be held in place. It’s actually really amazing to observe with the benefit of a bit of distance but, in that moment, the sensation is worrisome and when listeners make that realization, they’ll also find themselves hooked. That hook will get them more invested in the talk of hockey games and Montreal and (yes) overtime and, when the song closes with a barre of guitar which really leaps forward in the mix, listeners will find that the restraint that characterizes the second cut on the side, “Waiting For Johnny Marr,” doesn’t catch listeners quite as well as its predecessor did(the leaner mix which is more focussed on bass and talking about “needing a superhero” doesn’t add to the ground that “Overime” won), but the major chords that the song’s bridge shifts to as well as the guitar solo that the band mixes in keep the cut from failing irredeemably, and so it flows smoothly into the far more agitated and passionate energy of “New Answers”.

Important note regarding “New Answers”: while the song is undeniably the most uptempo cut on the EP, a valid case could be made for the fact that it’s the best song in tis running. While the vocals are definitely more melodramatic than any others on the EP (lines like, “New answers – fighting someone every day/ New answers – who tolerates intolerance?” rank as some of the most grounded and valid of this decade to date), they’re also some of the most surprisingly and profoundly affecting – and that they’re coupled with some very “Sloan-y” vocal addictions (like “ba da ba”)causes them to stick to listeners’ collective mental pleasure centres like they coated in super glue and, when the song runs out after three minutes and fifty-eight seconds, listeners will know that the song is perfectly unforgettable – particularly when “Hands Up, Don’t Shoot” follows with a lyric sheet comprised of nothing more than the song’s title repeated ad nauseum follows it to close the side.

While saying that the A-side of the Overtime EP ends on a challenging note really only expresses a gift for understatement, the going picks up right away on the B-side as “Graystone” opens the play there. On “Graystone” itself, SLIP~ons open with some unapologetically “classic rock” posturing before locking into some Police-esque British rock styling; the presentation of dramatic, descending vocal melodies are the way that listeners will find their way in, and the parts interlock to make sure the song is catchy enough to find its way into the “shower-singing” times of those who hear it. “Nerve Damage” follows a very similar, “kind of classic” style, but SLIP~ons’ secret weapon is the change-up that they offer to close up both the B-side and the EP as a whole, “Fading Smile.” There, with an almost sheepish demeanor, SLIP~ons cross-wire the kind of heartache and muscular rhythm that Gaslight Anthem turned platinum at one time and, even though the band stumbles a little when they needlessly change keys and try to “catch a falling knife,” they still end pretty strongly with an abbreviated lead guitar piece and a hard close.

That aforementioned close in “Fading Smile” is honestly one of the greatest surprises about the song and, by extension, the EP. It’s good enough and had just the right kind of hook, and listeners will find themselves reaching out and wishing there was more music to find. Granted, not every cut is as good as fans wished they could be, but that there is still room for improvement will have listeners coming back when SLIP~ons return with another release, and they’ll still remember these songs warmly too. [Bill Adams]

Artist:
http://slip-ons.ca/slip-ons/
https://www.facebook.com/slip.ons.band/
https://slip-ons.bandcamp.com/album/heavy-machinery-ep
https://www.instagram.com/sliponsvancouver/

Further Reading:
Vinyl Vlog 624 – SLIP~ons – Heavy Machinery EP

Album:
SLIP~ons’ Overtime EP is out now. Buy it here on SLIP~ons’ bandcamp page.

The post Vinyl Vlog 692 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.