Bill Adams, Author at Ground Control Magazine

A deeper look at the grooves pressed into the Jealous Butcher reissue of the Meaningless LP by Jon Brion. Sometimes, as good as a record might be, it just cannot buy a break. Take the Jealous Butcher reissue of Jon Brion’s Meaningless LP, for example; even a cursory listen effortlessly illustrates the album’s power pop perfection but, released as it was alongside albums like Gorillaz’ self-titled debut, Ani DiFranco’a Revelling/Reckoning, Sum 41’s All Killer, No Filler and Exciter by Depeche Mode, Meaningless went almost completely unnoticed. Then, seemingly to add insult to injury, the album came dangerously close to experiencing the same fate again when it was reissued on limited edition, light blue vinyl. I confess that I slept on the reissue too – until now. In the spirit of “better late than never” though, I’m giving this album its’ due because it really is that good and does indeed deserve it.

As soon as needle catches groove and “Gotta Start Somewhere” opens the A-side of Meaningless (with more than just a hint of irony), listeners are instantly immersed in a perfectly offbeat combination of electronic accoutrements and pop flavors that are about as sweet as candy as well as unusual but without apology. Throughout the song too, lines like, “So infinite and scary too/ Just ask for it/ And it’s coming true/ I continue in hope I have a follow-up/ And if I do then you might not ever shut me up” perfectly celebrate the senses of fear and discovery that Brion’s voice simply brims with, and listeners will find it absolutely impossible to not just want to follow along, almost nipping at the singer’s heels; as soon as “…Somewhere” ends, they’ll be racing and trying to catch up with the obviously pitch and speed-adjusted backing tracks of “I Believe She’s Lying.” Now, while every other artist who has tried to make something comparable to this oversped monstrosity since 2001 [which was the original release date for Meaningless –ed] has come off sounding either completely inimitable (read: live performances never sound comparable to the studio version of the song – Ben Folds has been found guilty of this, as have many other musicians), Brion leans into the synthetic presentatio, and doesn’t bother trying to make it sound normal – which is revelatory, in its’ own way. Here, the beat sounds like it wants to trip over itself while synthetic bleats ensure that they’re impossible to ignore and both Brion’s guitar sounds like it’s coming from an LP that’s playing at 45 RPM but the singer’s voice sounds more than a little like that of John Lennon than any uninitiated listener will believe (check out lines like, “Although she’s none the wiser/ Although we’ve barely met/ I can recognize her/ From the treatment that I get) – but it still manages to lock together beautifully when this chirping, burbling marvel achieves the title lyric at the top of the chorus; when that relief gets set, it’s impossible not to sigh – no matter how many times listeners hear it.

After “I Believe She’s Mine” skitters away, the album’s title track stomps through with a perfect indie posture which could only have been achieved by a musician who spent hours with a click track and decades of pop seasoning and “Ruin My Day” both revives and rewrites Paul McCartney’s perfect pop sensibility for a new millennial college rock crowd, before “Walking Through Walls” boldly hits upon a very Revolver kind of pop swing that will weaken listeners’ knees as the side closes. There, even a quarter century later [or three years after the Jealous Butcher’s reissue –ed], it’s impossible not to feel like listeners have happened upon the best song that fell off the mixing desk as The Beatles were recording The Beatles (or “The White Album,” if you must); there’s a confidence in the delivery of lines like, “I’m standing up straight/ I’m standing up tall/ I’ve no time to waste/ I’m walking through walls/ Get out of my way, motherfucker/ Start moving you all, motherfucker/ I’m losing my brakes/ I’m walking through walls” which it’s impossible to believe were committed to tape during any session for a musician’s first album, but they stand here between the timbres of an excellent (and excellently unusual) pop song as proof.

As solidly as the A-side of Meaningless ends, it’s a little heart-wrenching to hear how weakly (and meekly) “Trouble” opens the B–. That isn’t to say that the song is bad, necessarily – anyone who hears it will be able to make note of some pretty evident gold flecks laced into the John Lennon-esque melody which powers the song as well as its heartwarming, college rock-identified chord progression, it is simply not the sort of thing that anyone hopes will lead off a side. How it happened may simply have been a matter of problematic placement on the CD releases which originally launched the album and no one though to correct the issue for the Jealous Butcher reissue, but that just means that it stands as a perfectly evident flaw in Meaningless‘ running, now. Happily, Brion’s heartbroken ode to disillusionment – “Hook, Line and Sinker” erases its preceding flaw by taking its time and really letting listeners FEEL Brion’s sadness with a spare arrangement (by the rest of the album’s standards), minor chords and a lilting and syrupy bridge.

After the downbeat drag presented in “Hook, Line and Sinker,” Brion returns to a more obviously Lennonesque posture to bring the energy back up a bit on “Dead To The World.” There, Brion’s return to his comfort zone is perfectly self-evident and listeners will have no difficulty appreciating it, but they may find themselves quietly hoping for some of the boundary-pushing that powered the A-side, before long – and they find exactly that in the break-up rumination, “Her Ghost.” There, the power increases as drums which sound like they were clearly programmed split through the Britpop-informed songwriting (check out lines like, “Every hour on the hour/ He will reappear and make it clear that he’s around/ It’s not your average social call/ He does it all without a sound”) ring brightly alongside keys and strings which may have been programmed instead of performed, but they don’t lose any steam. Steam getting lost proves to be exactly the problem from which “Same Mistakes” suffers, as it truly never progresses in speed beyond a mope – but, happily, the record closes after that with some brilliant twinkling which opens “Voices”, the album closer. There, almost like it knows that it needs to warm some cockles, the lines, “Hey, it’s me again/ Plain to see again/ Please, can I see you every day?/ I’m a fool again/ I fell in love with you again/ Please, can I see you every day?” follow the delicate chimes which open the song, and listeners will find a warm and happy place that they hadn’t perviously known they were looking for, before now. As the song progresses, listeners will find that such warmth is a wonderful thing to inhabit too; they’ll find that the sentiment of lines like, “You didn’t know what you were looking for/ ‘Til you heard the voices in your ears” is one that they shared before they even heard it coming and, when the cut finally runs out its seven-minute runtime and stylus finally lifts from vinyl, listeners will find that they were well-won by the end of the album’s play, and restarting all over again won’t take any hard convincing.

After having run front-to-back with Meaningless though, that restarting comes with a bit of guilt. After listeners run through it the first time, that guilt will come from the fact that, somehow, Meaningless fell through the cracks and didn’t get its due when it was originally released in 2001 (this critic takes solace in the fact that I joined the press in 2002, and didn’t know Meaningless existed) and, for me, the guilt comes because I slept so hard on this reissue that this review is only coming now, THREE YEARS after Jealous Butcher released it. As stated, some albums just can’t buy a break – but, at least now, I’ve tried to make up for my error and give this reissue its due. Some might call that, ahem, meaningless, but I say that even getting here late is better than never, if a few more hearts can be won by Meaningless. Find this reissue, reader – you won’t regret it. Remember – “You’ve gotta start somewhere.” [Bill Adams]

Artist:
https://www.jonbrion.net
https://www.facebook.com/JonBrionBrasil
https://www.instagram.com/jonbrion2022
https://www.instagram.com/p/y5sKexARMP/?hl=en

Album:
The vinyl reissue of Jon Brion’s Meaningless LP is out now on Jealous Butcher Records. Buy it here directly from Jealous Butcher Records.

The post Vinyl Vlog 674 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.

A deeper look at the grooves pressed into the Burn All The Ships LP by Headstones. Since returning in 2013 with Love + Fury, the Headstones have illustrated that they can orchestrate a comeback with greater competence than most other bands. Over the last twelve years, the band has come back in a manner similar to how Hard Core Logo did in Bruce MacDonald’s mock/rockumentary before stripping their sound to bare bones, picking up acoustic instruments and revisiting their early songbook in much the same way Michael Turner did in the original Hard Core Logo novel for their album One In The Chamber Music. After having completed all that, the band has ploughed forward and released three more albums – but their fourth since 2017, Burn All The Ships, represents a significant change in the group’s character. Now, there’s no exclamation of, “Oh we’re back,” and trying to claim a kind of novelty would be laughable; Headstones are back and they’re playing for keeps and no bullshit on Burn All The Ships.

Rather than blowing the doors open and burning synapses with something incendiary as Headstones have illustrated they can do time and again, when the needle sinks in and catches the groove of “Put That Car In Drive,” and almost solemn and reserved sound will make longtime fans look twice and listen harder. Right off, they’ll recognize that, no, this isn’t “It’s All Over,” and is certainly not “Reno” or “Downtown.” Here, the band is making their listeners wait – and so they’ll lean in to catch every word, and completely absorb lines like, “I was westward leaning/ And I got my reasons/ Never followed the North Star’s light/ And I’ve learned my lessons/ I got no more questions/ I just put that car in drive.” Every second and every damned microtone gets held carefully just out of listeners’ reach, sardonically – there is no easy ambrosia to be stolen but, as the song moves along its’ three-minute, fifty-two-second running, the band will have gently driven hooks into listeners and they’ll be aching for some relief by the end – it’s sardonically beautiful.

After the acerbic opening expressed by “Put That Car In Drive,” Headstones immediately shift gears into overdrive for “Decades.” There, very literally from the first strike of a (very tight and compressed-sounding) drum, listeners will be able to feel the little hairs on their necks begin to rise. Hugh Dillon seems to be sharing the sensation there too as he pushes his vocal hard through his larynx and thereby making it feel a little clipped or throttled as he chokes out, “Just landed on my feet in the middle of the street/ Like a rocket coming out of the door/ Seething underneath, and the heartbeat is obscene/ Affecting everything right down to the core,” knowing he has fans in the palm of his hand right away as he does it. Even on repeated listens, the energy does not fade from the opening measures of “Decades,” but the shock that listeners will feel as the song’s tempo quickly changes for the chorus doesn’t fade either; all of a sudden Jesse Labovitz’s drums shift so hard they almost evaporate and Dillon’s vocal tone deepens with the words, “Days bleed to decades/ Whole worlds fade away/ Days bleed to decades/ And I just can’t wake up that way” in a way which makes not just the song slow down, but the whole world seems to slow with it as well – for a moment. For those who are already in deep with the song, the effect is absolutely jarring; each amounts to nearly complete stops and starts before resetting for the next movement, and that process continues for the remainder of the cut’s two minute and forty-seven second running (it feels longer than it actually plays).

As the A-side progresses, it does find a consistent rhythm as it unfolds. While “Daylight Lightning” never stops sounding like some kind of fever dream (Hugh Dillon sounds drowsy throughout and Trent Carr’s guitars ape the same kinds of dreamy poses that The Tragically Hip did, toward the end of their career), “An Effort To Forget” gets stronger legs under it and moves very, very well. The song leaves a truly memorable impression with a bit of help from Metric’s Emily Haines; there, while Dillon plays the role of rough and tumble rule breaker that he’s played for the duration of his carer to date, Haines goes out of her way to strike a counterbalance for him as the sweeter part of a vocal couple in much the same way that Leah Fay Goldstein did for Peter Dreimanis when that pair were setting Toronto on fire with July Talk in the twenty-tens. The results are strong enough – particularly when Haines’ voice melds with a pedal steel guitar to produce a sound that is truly haunting – but when the cut begins to dissolve in its’ late playing, it does so too quickly and easily; it doesn’t leave an aftertaste in its wake, it just goes and leaves “City Of Ghosts” (the longest cut on the album) to figure out how to close the side with just the right amount of volume and power to feel like the right kind of bang (and it actually does that twice – thereby leaving a bit of uncertainty in its wake).

As soon as needle catches groove on the B-side of Burn All The Ships, “Details” immediately calls to mind some of the greatest opening moments in Headstones’ career. There, the sounds of “It’s All Over,” “Hindsight,” “Reno” and “Downtown” all converge and explode to remind fans that Headstones really do remember how to make fans cheer for their lives. There, all the elements just converge perfectly; right off, Carr’s guitar begins interweaving with White’s bass while Dillon’s lyrics begin to spiral out of control (check out lines like “Out in the cold rain, you’re out in the cold/ You’re out in the cold rain, you’re out on your own/ Drop into something, d-d-digging a hole/ You’re out in the cold rain and nobody’s home”), and Labovitz enters the mix last to kick the whole thing into gear. It’s the kind of moment that every Headstones fan hopes for – and that it happens at the beginning of the B-side energizes an album which wasn’t lacking in power even further. Those energy levels don’t wane after “Details” crashes to a close and, while “Navigate” feels unmistakably like a Headstones/Dallas Green co-write (there are elements of the song which would fit easily into a City and Colour or Alexisonfire composition, but fit with a Headstones song like a rainbow of gasoline on top of a deep puddle of water), it does not slow or distract from the momentum that Headstones has built through the album thus far.

As one listens, there’s no question that “Navigate” might mark a greater point of entry that Headstones could investigate further on future releases – but “Unnatural Causes” feels like a return to ground that Headstones opened about twenty-five years ago but are only now re-investigating. Fans who remember Headstones’ dalliances into reggae in the title track from Nickels for Your Nightmares will discover that the spirit hasn’t left the band quite yet as they revive the dub which powered them previously, but free of the narcotics which plagued Nickels…. Here, Dillon tones his bark down and lets producer Chris Osti turn both the reverb and dub reggae histrionics up to really saturate the song in vibes which honestly would probably work better in the late playing of a live performance than it does in the late playing of a studio album [a fact that was also true on Nickels… –ed] but, again, doesn’t detract mythically from the album because the bright spots continue to outshine the dimmer ones.

…And, when “Damned” breaks in with an acoustic guitar and a startlingly deep piano, fans know what’s coming and where the running’s all headed at album’s close. Unlike the band’s previous albums though, Headstones show a different kind of growth than they’ve ever shown before; while the band used to be content to let everything burn as any given record ended and let listeners love or hate what they’d done at their leisure, lines like, “Damned! If I haven’t seen the bottom/ Damned! If you think you’ve seen the depth/ Fooled! By the things that I’ve forgotten to remember/ In the seconds that I had left to connect” as well as later admissions of burning bridges, losing games and the prices associated with shortsightedness all illustrate that Headstones’ lyrics have deepened, and they’ve become aware that with time and lessons learned there is more at stake than they ever imagined before. Granted, one might have assumed that the lessons implied by “Damned” might have been the sort they would have learned years ago but, as the Headstones finally make these conceits with the tone they use, even the most heartless critic with decide that the epiphanies that Headstones find at the end of Burn All The Ships are better won late than never and, with those lessons learned, they’ll find themselves hoping that the band has more albums in them yet. [Bill Adams]

Further Reading:
Complete Headstones Discography Review

Artist:
https://headstonesband.com/landing-page/
https://www.facebook.com/HeadstonesBand/
https://www.instagram.com/headstonesofficial/?hl=en
https://open.spotify.com/artist/3yfNNHn865Z5J05WhWLa00

Album:
Burn All The Ships is out now. Buy it here, at the band’s official store.

The post Vinyl Vlog #673 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.

Lilith’s Army
Doll LP
(Criminal Records)
A deeper look at the grooves pressed into the Doll LP by Lilith’s Army. While the claim that, as a musical form, Riot Grrl has evolved over time is an easy one to make (Sleater-Kinney has taken their sound and inspiration in several directions, and L7 has mutated a couple of times too), Lilith’s Army joyfully proves that remaining exactly where the music was thirty-five years ago – deep within a rough and ready form of melodic indie-punk – can be just as much fun and produce results which are just as positive on their new album, Doll. Before a note of music plays, potential listeners get an eyeful of the album’s cover [which looks like it might have been the place from which the designs for some of the destroyed toys that appeared in Toy Story 3 might have sprung –ed] and need to absorb song titles like “Eat My TV,” “Sick Of It” and “Not A Girl” which are are excellent elements that are capable of painting a picture in a potential listener’s mind’s eye – a vision which is proven to be well realized as soon as needle catches groove on Doll‘s A-side.

…As solid as it does get though, Doll does not begin at a perfectly smooth run. When needle first catches groove and “Eat My TV” opens the A-side of the album, it flounders a little because the pieces just don’t neatly align. Granted, Sylvie Studente’s guitars hit all the marks required to call vintage L7 vibes to mind, but her voice doesn’t quite have the same reach; with just a breath of of menthol rasp to raise the grain, Studente sounds emotionally removed from the song – which leaves lines about channel surfing and listening to “fucking hip hop” floating face up and lifeless. Happily though, the mix gets a little more even as “Cursed” follows a similar musical direction (same kind of grind, but with fewer metal shavings left in the mix) but comes off stronger. There, the guitars tighten and leave exactly no room for stray sparks, and Studente’s voice avoids any reaches it can’t achieve. That is immediately more satisfying as one is playing through the album, and really helps to bridge the two sides together.

And, as soon as listeners flip Doll and set the B-side to playing, listeners will realize that, either by accident or design, Lilith’s Army has ensured that the greatest climaxes and proverbial fireworks displays come later in the running of Doll. Cuts like “One,” “Breathe,” “Drain Me” and the album’s title track all grind as hard or harder than the cuts on the album’s A-side but, perhaps even more importantly, they do it with a confidence that was far thinner on the first side of the album. On “One,” for example, the guitar tone hits thickly from note one, and causes listeners to sneer sympathetically right away as Studente makes the most of a slower and almost defeated tone in her vocal delivery – basically daring listeners to respond. Conversely, the grinding, L7-on-downers guitar tone which powers “Breathe” could take listeners’ collective breath away [if they’re running front-to back with the record –ed], while the main guitar riff “Drain Me” seems to take both a baseball bat to as well as some liberties with the central riff of The Eurythmics’ “Sweet Dreams.”

By the time “Helpless” spirals lugubriously to close the album, listeners will be well-won by the B-side of Doll, but will find themselves lamenting that the band hasn’t left themselves anywhere to further develop the inroads they’ve made – the second side of the album touches on darkness similar to what listeners might expect from Nine Inch Nails, and they’ll find themselves fascinated by the fact that Lilith’s Army has done that without the benefit of any electronic instrumentation at all, but they’ll also find that this is where the album ends absolutely infuriating. Granted, while it could be argued that the changes the band has made to their sound as Doll comes to a close could be viewed as the great big hook which ensures that Lilith’s Army will find an audience waiting expectantly when they return with a follow-up to Doll, such a sentiment feels all the more cold – particularly given that the album’s closing hit so warmly. It is, needless to say, a very unexpected end – but the anticipation left for more music – for greater development of Lilith’s Army – is palpable. [Bill Adams]

Artist:
https://www.facebook.com/lilithsarmyOfficial/
https://www.instagram.com/lilithsarmyuk/
https://soundcloud.com/liliths_army
https://www.shazam.com/artist/liliths-army/285049906

Album:
Doll is out now. Busy it here at Criminal Records’ online store.

The post Vinyl Vlog #672 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.

The Brian Jonestown Massacre
“Makes Me Great” b/w “Out Of Body” 10”
(A Records)
A deeper look at the grooves pressed into the “Makes Me Great” b/w “Out Of Body” 10” single by The Brian Jonestown Massacre. Since beginning to self-release their records twenty years ago, Brian Jonestown Massacre has unilaterally chosen to not only take control of their output, they’ve occasionally proven that they’re not above getting very, very self indulgent in service of their muse. That often means that, before they hear a note of the music from the record on which they’ve chosen to lay their money down at any given time, they’re gambling that they might get something great (like the excellent “Don’t Look At Me” single) or they might get a ridiculous and fuzzy shit shingle like “Fingertips” or “Prozac vs. Heroin” – you just never know what you’re going to get until you lay your money down. Happily, this critic is here to tell you that those who gamble on a copy of the “Makes Me Great” b/w “Out Of Body” 10” single will find that it was money well-spent; both sides of this single sparkle with the vintage, retro songwriting and style that fans have come to adore, and none of the indulgences that even the most devout fans find themselves checking their watches through, when they appear.

As glowing as such praise might seem, listeners will find that it pales ti the listening as needle catches groove and “Make Me Great” opens the A-side of this 10”. There, those who are already familiar with BJM’s style will be instantly delighted that no dramatic changes in the form previously illustrated on the “Abandon Ship” b/w “Maybe Make It Right” 10” (released in 2023) are apparent, but those just discovering the band will be able to find an easy way into what they’re hearing too. A beautiful but lean acoustic guitar opens and ultimately powers a song which quickly proves to ache for love (see lines like, “Wasting away, but you’re feeling okay … There’s not much to say/ When you throw life away/ When you know very well there’s no other/ you can’t ever win with love”), but never quite resolves with its discovery. Singer Anton Newcombe deadpans his way through the melody in a manner which could only be characterized as “stereotypically British,” but even the most heartless critics will find themselves won over by the time drums enter the mix of the song (about a minute and twenty-five seconds in – if you’re counting) and begin nodding along in rhythm – not because of the obvious, drug-induced flow that anyone could easily associate with the song, but because it’s genuinely intoxicating. Simply said, “Makes Me Great” is just the sort of fantastic, psychedelic pop song that fans always hope for from Brian Jonestown Massacre, but only get once in a very great while. It’s so good, those who begin the single by listening to it will find themselves hoping eagerly for more of the same after the song ends and the record demands flipping.

For its’ part, the B-side but, “Out Of Body,” plays exactly as its’ “second string” stereotype implies – but keeps listeners engaged simply because it’s not bad and there’s not a lot of it – so the unspoken suggestion is that listeners should make the most of what they get. Because of that, they may decide that they like the fact that “Out Of Body” plays a little more energetically than its pretty sedate counterpart on the A-side; the instruments in “Out Of Body” clatter with greater force as Newcombe breathlessly tries to slot himself between them while also dodging the cut’s very trebly guitars and not accidentally tripping when the song’s tempo changes unexpectedly/momentarily, about halfway through the song. The end result of that movement is a bracing and engaging one; the unexpected movements are exciting on first listen, and actually retain that energy and some of those who experience it may find that, in fact, “Out Of Body” is the cut which gets greater amounts of play than “Makes Me Great” after the bloom had faded from the single, on day one. Either way, there’s no question that this single marks a great break in the silence and return to a physical media release for the first time in two years. [Bill Adams]

Artist:
https://www.thebrianjonestownmassacre.com
https://www.facebook.com/thebrianjonestownmassacre
https://www.instagram.com/thebrianjonestown/?hl=en
https://open.spotify.com/artist/30uiS1n3uIGXJEYFR1GVDy

Album:
The Brian Jonestown Massacre’s “Makes Me Great” b/w “Out Of Body” 10” single is out now. Buy it here on bleep.

The post Vinyl Vlog 667 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.

The Peawees
One Ride LP
(Wild Honey/Spaghetty Town Records)
A deeper look at the grooves pressed into the One Ride LP by The Peawees. While it would be difficult to call what The Peawees do on their debut album particularly unique or innovative (from front to back, the band makes the most of its own barroom rock aesthetic, and seasons in horns to make the standout cuts on the album sparkle and shine), actually listening to One Ride can win even the most jaded listeners when they realize that the band has made one other important addition to the mix with which they’re working: BELIEF. Is what The Peawees are doing particularly impressive? Not particularly – but a front-to-back run through One Ride will ensure that those who come to the album without baggage or preconceived notions about the album will be won over and rewarded handsomely with a set of songs that are capable of burrowing deeply into their brains and reshaping their appreciation of rock n’ roll.

As soon as needle catches groove and “Banana Tree” opens One Ride‘s A-side,The Peawees lay out surprises effortlessly – and so hold listeners enthralled. The first rock rumblings which drive the song part quickly to show listeners the band has some ska rhythm in them, with singer Herve Peroncini crowning the mix with something close to R&B and soul. The result is simply remarkable; using skills comparable to that of the Downchild Blues Band, The Peawees rewrite the book on what might be possible for rock by still using those same sounds and skills, but also managing to make it sound completely fresh. Lines like, “I got a call from a faraway home/ Wanted me back when things went wrong” and, “They’re coming for me – they’re coming for me!/ How can I hide myself behind the street” have the kind of well-worn style which proves this music is being performed with an equal mix of confidence and experience as well as a sexy swing that is both undeniable and unavoidable and, after the song’s three-minute duration, there’s no question that those who here it will be hooked; hearing more will be a biological imperative, after that first taste.

With introductions made and listeners’ expectations set, The Peawees just dig in hard and attempt to ensure that they keep listeners’ attention in front of them. “Drive” keeps the guitars overdriven and their performances succinct in a manner that is very similar to that of Soul Asylum (or rather how Soul Asylum did before ‘Runaway Train” taught them how to write the same song repeatedly and always sound great), and then “Plastic Bullets” refines The Peawees’ ability to turn out succinct but satisfying indie rockers (think Killjoys or Bob Mould’s Sugar) before “Lost In The Middle” turns up the overdrive and proves that a band from somewhere other than Minnesota can make an indie pop punk anthem just as well as Hüsker Dü, and then downshifts so hard listeners might be able to hear a couple of gears grinding as “She Cries As She Kills” closes out the side. There, it’s impossible not to concede that the song plays a little awkwardly at first as Peroncini and co-guitarist Dario Persi fumble with some ska changes that they might have half-learned from listening to old NOFX records, but they finally find a stable rhythm as the lyrical focus turns to walks in the rain and the song itself refocuses onto a major-key chord progression.

The solid ground on which the A-side of One Ride closed its running opens the B-side too and actually comes off improved, instead of just renewed, as “Who’s The Enemy” plays out. Listeners will find that the song rocks harder and with greater passion than they expected as Peroncini’s vocals come close to weeping perfectly through lines like, “Who’s gonna pay the price/ Who will be sacrificed/ Now that the one with the rising sun burned your problems away,” and the piano added to the song for greater depth adds a soul that not only further enriches it, it also bridges the album’s movement into “Spell On Me,” which further expands The Peawees’ palette again with more horns and a more frenetic guitar solo.

While the overall power of the album does dip a little when “Before I Die” overplays a series of cliches that includes hard stops and starts intended to add some drama to the song and guitars which play as weaker than they had earlier on the album, the play is immediately redeemed as the album’s title track plays out. There, handclaps add some fresh energy before Peroncini and co-guitarist Dario Percy amp up the energy and have some fun through the song’s running by just bouncing along brilliantly. Throughout the cut, Peroncini, Percy and bassist Fabio Clemente bounce off of the drums supplied by Tommy Gonzalez in a way that recalls The Replacements at their most playful and socially lubricated – which is honestly refreshing because it’s the only song on the album which sounds like it does – itself kind of ironic, given that it’s the title track.

…And, after they’ve had their fun through “One Ride,” The Peawees settle into one final turn with “You’ll Never Be Mine Again” to close out the album. There, it’s hard to tell if the band is settling down to simmer or to seethe as guitar arpeggios walk along the song’s running like spiders through the movement of the cut. Peroncini seems intent on taking a woman to task as lines like “How many things I gotta prove?/ How many roads do I still have to go through?/ I’m walkin’ on eggshells, can’t you see?/ I’m afraid this pain won’t set me free.” attack without mercy, and listeners lean in to catch every syllable. By the end of the song (and album, by extension), there’s no doubt that, for Peroncini, there is no going back to the woman who’s done him wrong, but listeners won’t be able to stop themselves from resetting both the record and the stylus, after it lifts; the way the B-side on the album ends is just too intoxicating to be left alone, for listeners.

So, needless to say, The Peawees have found a perfect end for One Ride in “You’ll Never Be Mine Again.” As up and down as One Ride plays, the album’s last cut baits listeners into running front to back with the album more than once. While there are flaws in the album, it’s impossible to deny that it has its’ charms too – and will definitely find fans waiting for a follow-up, when they return with fresh material. Here’s hoping that it doesn’t take the band too long. [Bill Adams]

Artist:
https://thepeawees.bandcamp.com
https://www.facebook.com/thepeawees
https://www.instagram.com/thepeawees/?hl=en
https://www.spaghettytown.com/?srsltid=AfmBOooxthBDYVAE55taPVwbOzfZgJY6pJGNWglxH_jQR3IbOKGnEimC

Album:
One Ride is out now. Buy it here, directly from Spaghetty Town Records.

The post Vinyl Vlog 666 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.

A deeper look at the grooves pressed into the Nuisance EP by Clean Lines. At this point, the city of Seattle has become synonymous with grunge – but on their Nuisance EP, Clean Lines prove that there are other, greater musical possibilities which also come from the Evergreen State. Within just four cuts’ time, Clean Lines don’t just crib some ideas from The Briefs and call it a day – rather, they ambitiously utilize recognizable sounds and rethink some well-tread sonic landscape to make it feel all-new and different.

I know what you’re thinking, reader. You’re thinking that there’s nothing new under the sun and this is all just a really hard pitch to win some potential fans, with little in the way of follow-through. First, shame on you (you’re not the first – I thought this way too, at first) and, second, this is definitely a rabbit hole that’s worth following me down.

As soon as the title track of the Nuisance EP blasts out to open the A-side, listeners will know exactly what they’re hearing. Singer/guitarists Josh Dale and Steve E. Nix blaze and bludgeon out some searing guitar figures while bassist Ricky Gonzalez and drummer Nick Schultz hold the fort around them and singer Tyler Brey takes his place on the top of the heap to present a sound which is rightly comparable to that which was introduced by The Dead Boys fifty years ago: a raging punk blast that belches defiantly in the face of fear. And it’s absolutely glorious! It’s absolutely impossible for any listener with a sense of history to not appreciate the similarities between “Nuisance” and a song like “Sonic Reducer,” and those who are too young to have that frame of reference will still like it for the brash and headstrong attack it packs. “So Sharp,” the second song on the A-side of the EP, has only a fraction less power than “Nuisance,” but still meets the standard set by its predecessor as it features comparable quality and is powered by a great and vintage radio sound.

The B-side of the Nuisance 7” opens in much the same way that the A-side closed. Right away, drums which sound like they might have been lifted right off of an old Gary Glitter single cause listeners’ heads to bob without effort, and the song’s guitar figure features a strut from which no punk will be able to turn away – and while the vocals take entirely too long to appear (one minute and forty-seven seconds into a four-minute song? That’s just criminally self-indulgent), they make up for it by coming off as the great, snotty and snide answer to Sweet which has simply never been heard before.It’s the sort of classic concession that would likely give listeners a toothache if it happened more than once, and that rarity actually makes it all the sweeter, here.

…And, because every great “candy dinner” still needs a proper dessert, Nuisance closes with “In The Way.” If the was any more than two minutes long (it isn’t), it might run the risk of being competely expendable but, because it’s sort, loud, fast and irresponsible (it’s hard not to love a song about wasting time on the company dime, and that’s what “In The Way” is all about), it doesn’t just get a pass, it deserves applause. The doubled vocals on “In The Way” offer some more of the vintage flavor expressed elsewhere on the EP, but the song doesn’t just feel like more of the same – which leaves those listeners who run front-to-back with the EP wanting more when the needle lifts after “In The Way.”

Standing back from it, while it might be a little unassumingup close, it’s just impossible to overstate the quality of Clean Lines’ Nuisance EP. In just four songs’ time, Clean Lines not only introduce themselves in a very distinctive manner (that’s right – this 7” is the band’s first release), they also leave listeners agonizing for more by the time the EP runs its’ course. It is absolutely the kind of release which signals the emergence of a great new band – we can only hope that we won’t have to wait long for a full-length follow-up. [Bill Adams]

Artist:
https://www.facebook.com/CleanLinesBand/about
https://www.instagram.com/clean_lines_band/?hl=en
https://open.spotify.com/album/3UvZYiwuvAkcH25Z60gdVT?si=9gXDy4baRMS2oJeo4JIG7A&fbclid=IwY2xjawI1zktleHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHYUjIYf_8glrnwnRDjTgeEWknFupAIQwofeojrEb_zOcMN77uFWy02kuZw_aem_oATa7qJnuqVQw1YIemYhvg&nd=1&dlsi=db6cde59a71341e0

Album:
Clean Lines’ Nuisance EP is out now. Buy it here on bandcamp.

The post Vinyl Vlog 664 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.

David Bowie
TOY:Box (6 X 10” box set)
(ISO Records/Parlophone)
A deeper look at the grooves pressed into the David Bowie TOY:Box (6 X 10” box set) After David Bowie’s death in 2016, the singer proved to still be able to make news with the series of releases that he had intended to see come out – and were actually followed through upon [the titles of Bowie’s post-humous releases include Who Can I Be Now?, A New Career in a New Town and Brilliant Adventure –ed], but the amount of content for future releases has grown much leaner, in recent years. Even with less to work with though, the singer’s record label has dutifully begun the task of clearing shelves and the first “clearing house” release proved to be TOY:Box – itself an expanded vinyl version of the album which was scheduled and then shelved by EMI/Virgin in 2001, was included on the Fantastic Adventure box set in 2021 and also finally saw a standalone release in 2021.

Such confusion regarding the set’s concept, construct and release has done nothing to really help it over time but, if listeners/fans take a minute to at least partially separate Toy:Box from its own history, they’ll discover that it is a surprisingly engaging listen because it pulls both from the earliest sounds and ideas in Bowie’s career as well as having the craft and discipline of the final moments of his career as well. For this project, for example, the singer convened a solid team of his favorite latter-period bandmembers (guitarist Earl Slick, keyboardist Mike Garson, drummer Sterling Campbell and bassist Gail Ann Dorsey) and collected some of his earliest demo cuts, and went into the studio to capture the urgency of the inspiration as well as not a whole lot of pre-production.

The urgency so integral to the set is made apparent as soon as needle catches groove and “I Dig Everything” propels TOY:Box ambitiously up to speed. While the title of “I Dig Everything” may cause a few eyebrows to raise on sight (be honest, reader – the title is just too vague and blurry to really catch the attention of a modern Bowie fan on its own), the song itself is unmistakably stable in form and both refreshing and exciting as a result. Right off, the stomp which propels the song is both coupled and tempered by a great vocal melody and, while Bowie really leans on the nasal aspects of his own voice throughout the song, the additional background vocals really help to enrich the presentation. The final result is a really good song which doesn’t really sound like a David Bowie composition; presumably because “I Dig Everything” originated while the singer was still finding his voice, none of the elements which would eventually come to define or characterize Bowie’s music (the existential longing for the unknown, isolation, distance et cetera) are present. For any other singer, such an absence of familiarity would be cathastrophic but, because it’s Bowie – himself a famous character chameleon – the changes [ahem] that are both obvious and present are easy to accept.

With listeners settled in early, the movements presented on TOY:Box slide through easily and offer few in the way of frustrating moments (although “few” is still more than “none”). “I Dig Everything” segues smoothly into an almost nouveau “Young Americans” kind of soul styling which contrasts ear-catchingly against the heart of “You’ve Got A Habit Of Leaving” (and sounds like it should be more bitter of annoyed, in theory, than it is, in fact) and leaves the side a little off-balance because “Te London Boys” keeps a resigned sadness in play, and the horns and harpsichord in “Karma Man” are just too slick and smooth. “Conversation Piece” holds a great surprise in that it chooses not to redeem the first plate of the set, and the very nearly Elton John-identified “Shadow Man” handily keeps listeners guessing and ready to switch records and keep the vibe moving as the needle lifts. If one chooses to play the set in order (and it really does make sense to do so, even on repeated plays through the set), “Let Me Sleep Beside You” echoes the more rockist moments which were found on Blackstar in that it aims to succinctly push energy levels up without offering a “Rebel Rebel”-sized hit, and “Hole In The Ground” plays similarly – even if it really doesn’t sound like Bowie was finished developing the song quite yet, before the set closes with “Baby Loves That Way.” Again, “Baby Loves That Way” doesn’t sound completely finished; while the song isn’t bad, a sense of juvenalia haunts both the beat and the arrangement of the song (while David Bowie’s songs normally sounded ageless, in listening, this one sounds far more of its moment – specifically, of The Sixties – before Bowie “went to space”) and it’s a sensation which proves to be impossible to shake. Even so, the warmth which dominates the song holds listeners nicely throughout and keeps listeners engaged – even when they recognize that, again, the song’s form is pretty left field-identified for its singer.

On the third plate of TOY:Box, listeners will finally begin to find more familiar fare, opening with “Can’t Help Thinking About Me” – which some fans may recall from the singer’s performance on VH1 Storytellers. Here, the energy levels in Bowie’s voice jump up significantly to match the song as he nearly howls in the lines right before the title lyric, and those listeners who have followed along through the set may actually feel their eyes widen in excitement at the beginning of each chorus. Again, the song does feature some weak lyrics (and Bowie discussed this in Storytellers) and those who know will find themselves rolling their eyes a little when the words, “My girl calls my name “Hi, Dave”/ Drop in, see you around, come back/ If you’re this way again” but also smiling warmly at the thought and the memory. That smile will undoubtedly fade a little through the far, far more subdued “Silly Boy Blue” – which features a poorly placed flute but well-placed strings and a fade in the song’s end which may actually find listeners sighing, warmly as “Your Turn To Drive” extends the end of the side (somehow) without feeling self-indulgent.

After the D-side closes out, TOY:Box begins trolling into its’ collection of Alternatives and Extras which, while capable of easily holding fans’ attention, can begin feeling repetitive after the bloom of a first play comes off. Different versions of almost every aforementioned song play through (some of them are alright, whether they’re essential is questionable) and eventually begin to bleed together. That isn’t to say the songs are bad at all, they’re just not essential when stacked next to the other versions of them which are also in TOY:Box. Could it be said that too much of a good thing is still too much? Maybe…. [Bill Adams]

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

Album:
David Bowie’s TOY:Box limited edition box set is out now, in very limited numbers. Buy it here on Amazon.

The post Vinyl Vlog 663 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.

A deeper look at the grooves pressed into the Here Comes Our Wave LP by The Black Pacific. Now six years after the release of Never Gonna Die, it really doesn’t seem like Pennywise plans on putting out a new album anytime soon – which is a terrible shame. Since they started in 1988, Pennywise was often regarded as the hard-grinding skate punk band seated comfortably at the punk rock head table alongside NOFX, Offspring, Green Day and Bad Religion but, whenever it seemed like a good time to have a new album out that would save the scene from itself, Pennywise was busy doing something else. As a result, the band has never really gotten its proper due and, at this point, it looks like they never will. Happily though, long-suffering, on-again-off-again Pennywise singer Jim Lindberg has elected to cut his losses and revive his “other” part-time project, The Black Pacific, for its first full-length album in over a decade – and it qualifies as the best album Lindberg has been part of in over a decade too.

After some trite dial twirling, Here Comes Out Wave opens with “I Think I’m Paranoid” and immediately captures listeners’ attention. Right away, the band launches into a pick scraping, hard charging assault that is the definition of melodic hardcore; drummer Alan Vega pushes limits and wastes no time as, for the first two minutes and forty-one seconds of the album’s running, the band illustrates why – while the might have been out of commission for over a decade – there is no dust on their shoulders or rust on their guitar strings. “Superhero” actually ups the energy levels from where the band began as Lindberg rifles through some classic movie titles (Less Than Zero wins mention, as does Citizen Kane) and blasts along unrelentingly before “No Fun” follows and redefines expectations of the song’s title (because – let’s be honest – everyone expects something Stooges-esque from that title) by tightening its grip on listeners and threatening to stifle them with ceaseless dark vibes.

The darkness finally relents with the rambling energy which powers “Here We Come” – the A-side’s closing cut. There, the band upholds the tempo and power they expressed on the songs which preceded it, but “Here We Come” augments the impressions that the band left previously in the album’s running by really focussing more on a skate punk cadence. The song grinds nicely using lean guitars and hard feelings in a manner which feels instantly familiar and, by the time it reaches the second verse, feels like it might have missed its’ calling as a really solid Pennywise cut – a sense which remains clear until the song crashes to an end a couple of minutes later.

Throughout the remainder of the B-side of Here Comes Our Wave, The Black Pacific just keeps blasting out ripping, skate-ready cuts pretty consistently (although “Float Away” does break character and features a far less bold or tactile presence). “It’s Gone” illustrates that the band’s energy reserves are definitely not the thing that’s missing from the song. The crunchy distortion and sunny disposition of “Won’t Let You Down” ensures that no fan of Pennywise will be disappointed by the song. The album’s title track beautifully illustrates just how much stamina the band proves they have in reserve, when they need it, and the clamor it offers as it closes the album will leave listeners feeling energized and wishing there was more left to experience from the album. Some listeners who run front-to-back with the album may curse if they didn’t realize that the needle was due to lift from the album, and so may hurriedly pick a cut (ANY cut) to put their needle back down on in order to keep the movement and power that The Black Pacific established on this album running. That’s just how good The Black Pacific plays; the album hooks listeners hard and early, and never lets them go. It is exactly what punk needs in the waning days of 2024 to build hope for what punk may hold in 2025. [Bill Adams]

Artist:
https://blackpacificband.com/
https://www.facebook.com/p/THE-BLACK-PACIFIC-100050557716546
https://www.instagram.com/blackpacificband

Album:
Here Comes Our Wave is out now. Buy it here, directly from Dine Alone Records.

The post Vinyl Vlog 662 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.

A deeper look at the grooves pressed into Bambies’ Snotty Angels LP. Rare is the band that is capable of taking a very well-established sound, tweaking it ever-so-slightly and landing on something that is instantly rewarding and gratifying for those who hear it, but Bambies – a teeny tiny band on an even smaller label – have made an album which lands them among that aforementioned select few. The band’s sophomore album is just bombastic; from front to back, the band never once lets its’ collective foot off the gas, choosing instead to invite listeners aboard for a ride, then winning them over by just bowling them over. While other bands would break stride on their way through their new record’s running to illustrate that they have some heart or depth about their presence, Bambies choose instead to prove that they can keep this up indefinitely – and they’re the only ones who could do it.

Even The Ramones had to slow down occasionally through most of their albums – Bambies don’t, though.

As soon as needle catches groove on the A-side of Snotty Angels, listeners are subjected to precisely what they’ll be able to expect for the duration of the album’s running: with a nasal vocal that calls to mind Cartman from South Park over top of muscular but lean guitars, bass and drums which call to mind The Dead Boys (but with natural, pedal-free distortion on the guitar – it’s all created with volume), the band just runs balls-out and as hard as it can with no frills attached at all (no solos, no nonsense, barely any guitar heroics at all, really) for a minute and a half, and then just stops. The stop is so hard and complete (and the song was so short) that it takes a second for listeners to realize that it was complete, but “Devolution” starts before they can wonder for long and they’ll be swept along as the band uses a similar formula to the one which powered “Far Out”.

After “Devolution” proves to listeners that “Far Out” wasn’t a fluke, “Love Bite” feels a little more playful (albeit in a very Round Eye-informed, vaguely mean kind of way) but keeps the form intact before “No Front Teeth” lives up to its name and tries to knock a few Chiclets from listeners’ heads, “Billy Was A Boy” proves that even a nasal voice can be melodic and memorable while “Night Creep” proves that it’s possible to know exactly how a band’s songwriting formula goes but they can still be capable of producing a bum melody – but still rebound to produce the greatest highlight on the side to close it on “Teenage Night”. There, Bambies manage to make the kind of song that every punk band has produced at one point or another sound positively explosive, spectacular and all-their-own – somehow. Again, the nasal vocals are pretty standard-issue but, coupled with the close-to-cutesy vocal and production, the song will have gripped the pleasure centre of every brain it touches and will have those who hear it begging for more after the song runs out – two minutes after it starts.

While other cuts n the A-side of Snotty Angels are respectable enough from a lean, college-punk standpoint, “Teenage Night” is the cut that’s really capable of capturing imaginations and will have listeners flipping the record over, anxiously hoping for something comparable. To its credit, “Beat Up” captures the “we’re a band trying to write a great song” angle that The Ramones and The Dead Boys set a precedent for really well. There again, the band strikes a cutesy pose complete with well-placed “uh oh”s and easily the best guitar solo on the album, which makes the song an absolute standout and really sets a standard for the rest of the side. The bass line which drives “Bad Seed,”and the pretty hard feelings spread all over “Let Me Burn” do the exact same thing and, while “Gott Und Satan” feels simultaneously unintelligible and repetitive (the guitar part sounds a little like “Summertime Blues,” but not enough to be actionable, and the vocals are in German), it holds up well enough and is also short enough to let listeners still feel like they’re having fun until the needle lifts. In spite of its obvious shortcomings, “Gott Und Satan” is a solid enough close to ensure that those who have gone front-to-back with the album could feel good about doing it again, on the right day – although trying to do it more than once on the same day would likely feel a little excessive.

…And, after the needle has lifted, it’s funny but it’s really easy to feel good or really impatient with Snotty Angels. On the right day, the snide cuteness which characterizes the album can make it great, and the thing which can brighten a listener’s day – but it can also be the thing that one feels compelled to apologize for putting on, on the wrong day. Which of those two angles will be the enduring one is unclear no matter how often one listens to the album, so the only way to know for sure will be to hear whatever Bambies release next. It’s true that Snotty Angels might just be a great gateway to a solid career – but we won’t get to know for sure until we hear whatever Bambies release next. [Bill Adams]

Artist:
https://thebambies.bandcamp.com
https://www.facebook.com/lesbambies
https://www.instagram.com/bambiesbambiesbambies

Album:
The Snotty Angels LP is out now. Buy it here, from Bambies’ bandcamp page.

The post Vinyl Vlog 659 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.

A deeper look at the grooves pressed into the Music That Humans Can Play LP by Autogramm. That Autogramm has so meticulously presented themselves as being perched on New Wave’s pinnacle of power and influence now – about forty years after that form peaked – cannot possibly have been by accident. From front to back and top to bottom, Music That Humans Can Play goes out of its way to return to that moment in time when movie soundtracks were capable of presenting genuinely plaintive songs or extroverted rock cuts, and do so in a way that was memorable enough that you might find yourself humming the music the next day, regardless what kind of mood (good or bad) you’re in because both are applicable. It is an incredibly treacherous balance to strike, but that Autogramm has managed to do it here on their sophomore record speaks volumes about the band’s development over the last couple of years.

Those who were already familiar with Autogramm thanks to the band’s debut album (the comparatively baroque but still New Wave-identified No Rules which, honestly, a few more guidelines to get by) will be shocked when needle catches groove and “Born Losers” opens the A-side of Music That Humans Can Play. There, keyboards seem to actively restrain the song’s tempo as a really spare beat feels like it wants to break free of its restraints (or maybe it just feels that way to this critic), but falls in line and seems to fit well with the rest of the composition by the time singer Jiffy Marx introduces himself with the words, “It’s not the end of the world/ Even though it feels like you never get the girl” – by then, the band has listeners’ collective attention locked down tightly. From there, the song’s movements are one hundred per cent right out of 1986 and the band never seeks to develop the sound they’re making beyond that; very lean electric guitar tones intertwine tightly with the song’s keyboards and make for an undeniable, unstoppable force which ebbs and flows dramatically – and holds listeners so dearly that listeners will find they actually feel a little crestfallen when the song fades to a close. That’s when they’ll realize that Autogramm has them hooked; they may be surprised that it proved to take no time at all to happen, but they’ll be happy to buckle in for the ride.

After “Born Losers” settles listeners in, the searing wall of synths which opens “WannaBe” may shock them a little, but not so much that they might consider abandoning ship. In fact, after the wall parts to let drums, vocals and all the other instrumentation in the song in, listeners will find they’ve been unwittingly hypnotized again as the song’s dynamics shift from bracing to lush and back again easily, while Marx inserts one subversive lyric after another which might seem bold or brash coming from any other frontman (see lines like, “You can be as outrageous as you wanna be/ You can be anything that you wanna be”), but rub listeners like a soothing massage – in context. When listeners finally figure that out, they’ll rush to keep up because they’ll feel as though they’ve caught the band in the act of subverting listeners’ expectations – but then the song evaporates without a trace. “Hey Allie” follows a similar pattern with greater focus placed on the song’s “soundtrack” potential, but then the side ends a little awkwardly with the inclusion of the greatest New Wave song to appear after The New Romantic era – “Why Do We Dance.”

An important note on “Why Do We Dance”: ??For the four minutes and thirteen seconds it takes to play through the final song on the A-side of Music That Humans Can Play, Autogramm proves that their love of New Wave is anything but ironic as they earnestly patch together a flawless set of variables that Devo perfected four decades ago, and illustrate that their love is true. Here, keyboards wail like sad sirens while drummer Silo hammers the beat into the composition like nails, and Marx and bassist CC Voltage assemble a performance that is undoubtedly a tribute and testament to New Wave as a form, but also emotes better than artists like The Cars, Gary Numan, 20/20 or Devo ever could. Because of that, Autogramm proves that they are definitely the frontrunners of this next wave of New Wave artists; nobody is doing what Autogramm is doing on “Why Do We Dance” and, because of that, listeners will be ready to find out what the B-side of the album might hold as soon as the needle lifts.

…And those listeners won over or intrigued by what the A-side of Music That Humans Can Play held will find the B-side serves an even richer presentation which is apparent right away. As soon as “Love Is For Fools” kicks the running into gear, Marx’s guitar calls echoes of Big Star and Alex Chilton’s early solo work to mind. The swaggering guitars and pristine vocal melodies are absolutely phenomenal here, and don’t let listeners go for a second; it’s difficult to resist the urge to lift the needle after the song finishes and re-start the song a few times, because it is just that good. The song which follows “Love Is For Fools,” “Plastic Punx,” is exactly as good as its predecessor – the song shifts gears and includes some elements of Billy Idol’s “high Eighties” music as well as (again) some strains of Devo, and then treads closer to the territory that Elvis Costello occupied in the late Seventies and early Eighties for “Yesterday.” Standing back from it, listeners may be genuinely amazed at just how versatile Autogramm proves they can be on the first half of this side; while some critics could easily dismiss what they’re hearing as just being the work of a band simply mimicking the work of artists they admire, the truth is that Autogramm has made some great strides forward on Music That Humans Can Play. Granted, the album is not perfect and does stumble pretty hard – particularly after “Yesterday,” where the band spends the final three songs in the record’s running either tripping over themselves (“Westbound” just layers too much sound on a song which is an easy call for the weakest on the album), trudging in a way which is memorable in the worst imaginable manner (Marx can do a lot of things – talk about the dream he had last night isn’t among them) or trying to re-write “Girls On Film” (“Dive Right In”) – but the higher points on the A-side of Music That Humans Can Play as well as the early running of the B- excuse the foibles – or at least prove they’re the exception on the album and not the rule. Here’s hoping that Autogramm is capable of refining their sound just a little more on their next album – they’re much improved on Music That Humans Can Play, next time – if they reign themselves in just a little tighter – they may release a document which proves to be truly revelatory. [Bill Adams]

Artist:
https://stomprecords.com/bands/autogramm/
https://autogramm.bandcamp.com/
https://www.facebook.com/autogrammband/
https://www.instagram.com/autogrammband/

Album:
Music That Humans Can Play is out now on pink “Plastic Punx” vinyl, or on “Born Loser” blue vinyl. Buy it here, on Autogramm’s Bandcamp page.

The post Vinyl Vlog 658 appeared first on Ground Control Magazine.