Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Traps PS is spastic funk punk, high-g training in a centrifuge of calculated rhythm and cogent back beats. Their latest 7" EP does not falter. Each lick explodes like a bouncing betty on an upward trajectory. Computative drumming and sonorous vocals are the blast shield, containing and rearranging the madness. Stream it below and snag the wax here.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Travel Check is free and easy mid-summer, mid-week day off music. Providing the energy needed to motivate you to go out and do something worthwhile, but also placid enough to set the mood for your journey. Sunny and sweet but also frivolous and spontaneous. Not a worry to be had or a penny to be made. Download the 4 track EP for free below and snag the wax here.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Guys, GUYS! What are you doing!? I really want to keep this blog on track, but this shit is important, so please listen the fuck up! Stow your goddamn phones while attending concerts. This is not a request, it is an order. I am okay with you snapping a single, as in ONE photograph at some point during the show, you know, as something to remember it by. However, thrusting up your fat fucking arms over and over, thus further blocking the view of people behind you, to take a panorama that looks like my cat wiped her ass on it or 60 seconds of incomprehensible video is simply unacceptable. 95% of all shows have a photographer present who will take significantly better photos than you could ever dream of, and will make them accessible via the internet within a day. What's worse yet is the butt fuckers who are scrolling through their various social media drone feeds while the band is playing. Go home you twat! Your actions are disrespectful and only make me wonder why you even bothered coming to the show, you're clearly not enjoying yourself.
Guys, you are not doing the band or yourself any favors by having your phone out at a concert so stuff it in your cum stained pockets already and get into the music. Watch the band with your eyeballs and maybe even dance. Afterwords talk to the musicians at the merch table rather than running home and tagging them on facebook. Real life interactions are more valuable than you could possibly imagine, and I get the idea they mean a lot to the bands, you know, actually getting to know their fan base. Alright, that's more than enough ranting. More dope ass music recommendations to be posted soon.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Rasping and rip-roaring one-man banders are few and far between these days. They deliver a robust and vigorous sound that most musicians would not attempt without help from a couple of their friends. They keep it simple but fetching, surmounting the pressure to have it be at all cohesive. Having left his cohorts behind to relocate several times in the past, Jehosaphat Blow is now playing outsider in Prague, a city that has little to no appreciation for garage rock. His jams are fired off with a hair trigger, blistering all that they singe. Once it is over your paltry carcass will have been reduced to ashes, scattering like they were being poured into a wind tunnel that blows farts. A fucking fart tunnel. Download all of his releases for FREE below and send him a message on facebook saying how thankful you are. It's not every day someone gives you a gift as sterling and stupefying as his.
Friday, February 21, 2014
This record is an overflowing effervescence of sunshine and vivacity. Deep, boisterous guitar riffs coated in reverb, clacking drum sticks and crashing ride cymbals, sometimes at a feverish pace and other times nonchalant. Aberrant vocals are the thoughtfully placed cherry on top. In the wake of every song, you're left lifeless on a secluded beach, the tide bringing each wave closer and closer. Soon you'll be washed away by it's rich, prismatic vibes. Enjoy below and pick up the cassette here.
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
1-2-3-4 Dead. You've just been massacred by some of the raunchiest carcinogenic garage punk out there. Thee Mighty Fevers of Kobe, Japan will take a potato masher to your cerebrum. They will bathe your face in hydrochloric acid. Their jeering vocals and vigorous riffs will leave you in a puddle on the pavement getting slurped up by the neighborhood hounds. Don't skip on it fuckers, wax to be had here.
And here is a more recently released split 7" with The Morbeats on Italian label, One Chord Wonder
Monday, February 17, 2014
I don't usually get too into hardcore punk, but this apeshit concoction is exactly what I need in my ears when I'm ready to punch your grisly mug with all my (finite) strength. This is something I've found myself wanting to do more and more since moving to this piss bucket of a town. The New York music scene is a big fucking disappointment, swirling a grimy toilet bowl of shit-brained, repetitive electronic music and half-assed-hipster indie slop. When a solid punk rock band does come to town, a reprehensible crowd of maybe fifteen sad sacks forms around the back of the room. If the band is offensive in any way, the crowd thins even further. It's fucking pathetic! To get back on track, this band is about as mutt as they come with members spawning from the UK, Canada and Japan (and thankfully nowhere near NYC). Clear-cut pandemonium and freak fuck babble cannons through your skull at a hundred miles per hour. Jam out on it and ready yourself for a good skull fuckin'.