punk

1,000 Years

mandy — Mon, 10 Jan 2011 14:00:00 +0000

Singer, songwriter, and guitarist Corin Tucker has been actively involved in music since the early 1990s when, as a teenager, she launched the riot grrrl band Heavens to Betsy. Around the same time, Carrie Brownstein was heading up queercore outfit Excuse 17. Eventually the two joined forces to form Sleater-Kinney in 1994.

Drummer Janet Weiss (Quasi) jumped on board with the 1997 album Dig Me Out. During their career, Sleater-Kinney released seven albums to ever-increasing critical acclaim—they were named “America’s best rock band in 2001 by “Time” Magazine—before it all came to a screeching halt with their declaration of an “indefinite hiatus” in 2006. I was one of the many fortunate souls to attend one of their last two concerts at McMenamin’s Crystal Ballroom in Portland, OR that August; it was easily the best show of my life.

Since then, we die-hard Sleater-Kinney fans have gobbled up whatever scraps these three have tossed our way. Weiss continues to work with Quasi, and has also been behind the drum kit of Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks. Brownstein has been all over the place. She wrote the NPR music blog Monitor Mix and joined up with Fred Armisen (Saturday Night Live) to form the comedy duo Thunder.Ant; the two will star in the IFC original series Portlandia, starting this month. She and Weiss have also hooked up with Mary Timony (Helium) and Rebecca Cole (The Minders) to form the band Wild Flag.

And Corin Tucker? In the midst of Sleater-Kinney, she married filmmaker Lance Bangs and had her first child. Post-band-breakup, she had a second child, then started working on new songs. This led to the formation of The Corin Tucker Band and the release of 1,000 Years on Kill Rock Stars, one of her alma mater labels. Tucker claims that 1,000 Years is a “middle-aged mom record.” In my opinion, it both isn’t and is.

It’s not an overt “mother album,” replete with songs about the transformative power of motherhood. There are hints at that, with lyrics on the title track like “who is that zombie/that is wearing Mama’s clothes?” Still, this is musical territory that has already been well-covered by other artists (including Sleater-Kinney, with album tracks and B-sides from 2002’s One Beat). Conversely, this is a “mom record,” insofar as it reflects the stereotypically more mellow—or at least more exhausted—stance of the middle-aged working mother.

Tucker is notorious for her astounding voice, known in operatic terms as a “spinto soprano” or a “dramatic soprano.” It was put to ferocious use in Sleater-Kinney, a band whose music addressed such topics as domestic violence, music industry sexism, and American politics. That vocal power rears its head only once on 1,000 Years, smack-dab in the middle of the album with the single “Doubt.” When Tucker belts out the line “Break up with the boogie/break up with the beat/but I just can't forget what it means to me/I tried, I tried/but I couldn't leave,” we hear that passionate devotion to her craft, and for a split second, share in what feels like her triumphant return.

Prior to and after that moment, however, a kinder gentler Tucker prevails. Overall, her voice could be characterized as a sweetly tamed keening. These songs exemplify lush, folksy, indie rock, full of handclaps and woodblocks, sleigh bells and string sections, with just a hint of psychedelia in the guitars. Personal favorites include “Half A World Away,” with a rhythm that sounds like Cut-era Slits, mid-career Raincoats, or The English Beat; and “Pulling Pieces,” perhaps the most telling track on the album aside from “Doubt.” There’s a bittersweetness to “Pulling Pieces,” especially with lyrics like “Tell me why did you close the door?/I can’t get in to where I’m supposed to go/I’m just a shadow of what I used to be.” I really wish I didn’t agree.

Written by: M. Brianna Stallings, January 10th 2011

1,000 Years

alicia — Sun, 09 Jan 2011 20:00:00 +0000

By The Corin Tucker Band

Kill Rock Stars

It is kind of strange listening to Corin Tucker with a bass player, and without the backing of Carrie Brownstein and Janet Weiss in riot grrrl band Sleater-Kinney. Admittedly, at first I found myself missing Brownstein’s guitar chops, and the rhythmic awesomeness of Weiss. This isn’t to say that Tucker is a guitar slouch, by any means, just that Brownstein is one of the best living guitarists out there, and Weiss delivers an amazing syncopated punch that other drummers just can’t match.

And so perhaps it is a bit unfair to compare 1,000 Years with the previous work of Corin Tucker with Sleater-Kinney. The truth is, though, that S-K defined my adolescence. For me, at least, Tucker will always be linked to my seventeen-year old self. As an example, is there any Sopranos fan out there who was able to watch Where the Wild Things Are without conjuring images of Tony driving down the New Jersey Turnpike? But, the fact is that Tucker is plenty talented without the backing of her former mates. Frankly, with the strength of her new tracks and musical cohorts, I (almost) don’t even miss Brownstien and Weiss.

There have already been many reviews of this album, talking about the relative restraint of Tucker’s voice as compared with her time in S-K. It’s true the operatic bellow is turned down. But damn if she still doesn’t have a fantastic set of pipes and a range that is a bit easier to appreciate without the characteristic aggressive ululations of her S-K days. I should mention that while she is a bit more restrained in places, (such as on “Dragon and “Miles Away” where there are way more violins and acoustic guitars than ever appeared on any S-K album) she nonetheless has moments of uptempo howl on tracks like “Doubt” and “Pulling Pieces” where she sounds quite a bit like circa-1997 Corin Tucker.

I suppose what defines her new band is the focus, which is squarely on Tucker. S-K had Tucker, of course, but there was also the oomph of Weiss’ drumming prowess, along with the meticulous guitar mastery and vocals of Brownstein to make each album feel like a grand exercise in teamwork. 1,000 Years feels more like The Foo Fighters’ The Colour and the Shape.

There is absolutely no question that this album is Corin Tucker’s, just like there was no doubt that Dave Grohl was the one responsible on his album. Tucker’s band does an amazing job of emphasizing Tucker’s vocal talents. “It’s Always Summer” and “Handed Love,” for instance, contain fairly little in terms of instrumentation, which isn’t terribly necessary anyway with the power of Tucker’s voice.

I am a huge Sleater-Kinney fan, but I have already grown to accept that they are no longer together. I would be upset if Corin Tucker was trying to recreate S-K in her new band. But thankfully, that is clearly not the case on 1,000 Years, but I actually wish she pushed herself a little bit more outside of the S-K comfort zone and into some more daring territory. Sure, she’s far more restrained here than on The Woods, but the giant shadow of her former band still looms.

Written by: Emily S. Dunster, January 9th 2011

Scam: The First Four Issues!

payal — Sat, 18 Dec 2010 12:00:00 +0000

By Erick Lyle

Microcosm Publishing

Is it punk to drink when you’re flat broke? Is selling plasma or sniffing glue revolutionary? Is throwing shit off a Macy’s rooftop ever cool? Nearly twenty years after his zine was released in a series of diatribes about scamming the system and living on the edge of society, Erick Lyle’s writings as zinester Iggy Scam have been edited and bound for the masses. His collected works, Scam: The First Four Issues!, makes you question the very idea of “punk” and who gets to decide exactly what that means.

The best parts of Scam are the little things you don’t expect. Reviews of Beverly Hills, 90210; specific books, and generalized analyses—“Cars aren’t very punk. Roller skates are punk.”—are wickedly funny, provided you’re not taking Lyle seriously. Interviews with hardcore band Born Against’s Sam McPheeters or writer William Upski Wimsatt appropriately date the anthology and offer a window into the media Lyle was consuming in the mid-1990s. Pranks like Xeroxing 1,200 Starbucks coupons and handing them out are amusing, if only because you know Lyle didn’t get caught.

Much like Abby Hoffman’s Steal This Book, Scam is full of ways to rip off companies and The Man—most outdated and some more obvious than others. To get free unlimited copies at Kinko’s, swipe a paper clip in the copy machine credit card slot. To let loose free sodas and a bucket full of change, spray salt water into a vending machine dollar bill slot. Need new tunes? Sign up for introductory offers from now-defunct services like BMG Music. Hungry? Buy a soda at Wendy’s and hit the salad bar for free when no one is looking. Ask for a student discount any chance you get—whether or not you are one. Some of those little tricks were and are useful, if also deployed by not-so-punk suburban kids like me.

Some of Lyle’s exploits are awesome: house shows, hanging out at Food Not Bombs, and even protests are hallmarks of a youthful punk lifestyle. Running a pirate radio station and stealing electricity from street lamps can even be viewed as radical acts. Other aspects of Lyle’s so-called punk existence are markedly less glamorous, sometimes outright questionable, and littered with unquestioned privilege.

Take one of Lyle’s hitchhiking experiences, when the guy giving him a ride masturbated in front of him. Unhurt and not assaulted, Lyle walked away from the incident with a laugh—hardly what might happen if he were anything other than a young, white, straight male who thought it was more funny than frightening. In the same way, eating out of dumpsters, while arguably a way to reclaim perfectly fine discarded food, is also an act reserved for those not afraid of being harassed by law enforcement or arrested, as well as those who are well enough to risk food poisoning for a bit of free grub.

Some of Lyle’s stances, like his hatred for straightedge, are never explained. On several occasions, he advocates violence like smashing windows without particular purpose, seemingly because he understands violent acts to be related to anarchy, and thus punk. Granted, I’d never want anyone dissecting stuff I wrote when I was eighteen, but at times, it’s tough to read Lyle’s work as more than chaotic adolescent rants about how to destroy shit rather than effect change.

If nothing else, Scam is an interesting historical document from a time when eighteen-year-olds were listening to “Smells Like Teen Spirit” on the radio and watching the Gulf War on TV. If you can make out the scrawled handwriting, comics about graffiti and postage fraud, and care to read about hustling free condoms from STD studies at university hospitals, you’d do well to pick up Scam.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, December 18th 2010

Talk To Your Body

tina — Thu, 25 Nov 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Das Black Milk

Stress Carrier

Brian Emmert and Nathaniel Kane are Das Black Milk’s two songwriters and they’ve done an excellent job on their latest album Talk to Your Body; it’s probably their best work yet.

Many of the songs focus on notions of domestic turmoil in a paranoid dystopia, which I think reflects the current time we’re living in. In “Laissez-faire,” the second single off the album, Das Black Milk sing, “Laissez-faire, let them devour each other,” probably referring to the idea of how our lives are basically the social constructs of powerful organizations and institutions that are simply seeking to increase their capitalistic goals. The band continues: “Another confession dictates our direction,” but the question is whose confession are they referring to and why does it have such control over us? It makes you wonder.

Music blogger Jester Jay was dead-on when he wrote that “Talk to Your Body reverberates with post punk and 1960s garage rock sounds, but also reveals traces of electronica and tatters of punk. It's a fun listen that defies expectations.” These different types of music give the album a unique sound that is quite rare.

One cannot take for granted the amazing contribution of Ray Kline, the newest member of the band. Kline brings a whole new level to the DBM sound and is responsible for the integration of new and different music styles on Talk To Your Body. Overall I’d say this is a great album; it’s fun to listen to and it’s an amazing diversion from mainstream music.

Written by: May Abu Jaber, November 24th 2010

Girls to the Front: The True Story of the Riot Grrrl Revolution

admin — Tue, 28 Sep 2010 02:00:00 +0000

By Sara Marcus

Harper Perennial

First, an admission: like several feminist friends in my age group, riot grrrl didn’t make a profound impact of me until college. I was ten in 1993, the year Sara Marcus claims as pivotal for the movement in her book Girls to the Front. I was moving away from Mariah Carey and getting into the Pet Shop Boys. Riot grrrl was first on my radar through mainstream distortion in the pages of Spin and in the Spice Girls’ defanged “girl power” message. Marcus’s book is a great reintroduction and a valuable entry point for folks who have only a cursory knowledge of riot grrrl.

I especially appreciate that, despite the book’s monolithic title, Marcus incorporates the shared experiences of many girl participants. Riot grrrl tends to be defined by its adult-aged bands, with Bikini Kill and Bratmobile representing the movement. But many teenage girls were inspired by these bands. Some formed ‘zines and bands of their own, like Girl Friend founder Christina Woolner and Heavens to Betsy’s Tracy Sawyer and Corin Tucker. Not all of their contributions were preserved or recorded, so the book’s intervention is all the more important.

Some of these girls also came from working class or single-parent households or did not attend college. Furthermore, while much is made of the movement’s Pacific Northwest origins and identification with liberal arts colleges like Evergreen, Marcus is quick to refute essentializing class assumptions. Riot grrrl’s class heterogeneity becomes more pronounced when Bikini Kill and Bratmobile relocate in Washington D.C. and contend with the hardcore scene, which was primarily peopled by diplomats’ children.

Marcus challenges the notion that riot grrrl was sustained exclusively by white, middle-class, college-educated women. She also points out the movement’s aspirations toward queer inclusiveness were complicated by the efforts of predominantly straight or bi-curious cisgender females. Previous interpretations of riot grrrl represent it as a celebration of white girls challenging gender politics in a vacuum. Marcus points out how some girls created ‘zines, formed organizations, chaired panels, and created conferences challenging feminism’s inherent white privilege, racism, heteronormativity, and class politics, often causing contention and defensiveness from within.

Thus, I also liked reading that riot grrrl was an imperfect, discursive movement comprised of many conflicting opinions, belief systems, and identities. Despite third wave feminism’s investment in the fragmented female self, so often riot grrrl is depicted as a halcyon period for a then-nascent third wave. While it’s sad to read about in-fighting and rivalries, it’s refreshing to read differing opinions on philosophies and movement imperatives. As someone who’s participated in collective and politically-minded non-profit organizations, it seems a more honest representation.

Furthermore, the presence of male oppression from within informs riot grrrl in interesting ways. Riot grrrl formed in response to the right wing’s attack on feminism’s political gains as well as the cultural silencing of incest, sexual abuse, intimate partner violence, poor body image, and low self-esteem. It also opposed punk and hardcore’s exclusionary, homophobic, and misogynistic tendencies, best symbolized by the mosh pit, and implemented “girls in front” or “girls only” policies at shows. So it was really interesting to read about how bands like Fugazi aligned with riot grrrl, but were less willing to cede control over their audience.

In 1992, Fugazi and Bikini Kill played a Supreme Court protest. Frontman Ian MacKaye bristled at the idea of sharing the bill out of concern that the event would be misunderstood as a concert. He was also unable to reign in the aggressive inclinations of his predominantly white male fan base, and blamed the women in the audience who defended their space in the pit.

Marcus does something valuable with Girls to the Front. In representing riot grrrl’s imperfections and contradictions, as well as its relevance, she argues at once for its historical significance while challenging how we understand it. Make sure to check it out. Maybe it’ll convince you form a band with your best girlfriend and kick off a new revolution.

Cross posted from Feminist Music Geek

Written by: Alyx Vesey, September 27th 2010

Cooper Cobra

admin — Wed, 23 Jun 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Lily Sparks

Rock & roll, baby!!! That’s what you’ll find on Cooper Cobra, the debut EP of New York band Lily Sparks. No samples, loops, or weird electronica, just guitar-heavy, punk-influenced songs about having a good time. The tried and true formula works like a dream. The instrumentation is tight and the range and depth of lead vocalist Niamh (pronounced “neev”) is astonishing.

The first few seconds of the opening track, “Stars,” are enough to tell you what Lily Sparks is all about: guitarists Nikki 7 and KG* showcase their guitar chops on a short and sweet song with a thrumming beat, and Niamh lets loose with a devil-may-care attitude: “I don’t care what they’re saying / ’cause I’m not about to change my ways / I’m living it up till my dying day.” The refrain—“Stars, guitars, and muscle cars make me happy”—gives us an instant understanding of the band's raison d'être: celebrating life and having a ball making music. Like the best classic rock songs, the music makes such trite lyrics work. (And to be fair, there are some inventive lyrics on other songs—it's just that this one doesn't need them.)

“Let Go” has an ominous vibe, as if something rather unpleasant is about to happen. The languorous pace and chiming guitar add to the ambiance; the song is about wanting to help someone let go of the past and broaden horizons. The band returns to a more driving pace on “Walk Away,” a nostalgic but upbeat song about past love anchored by a heavy bass line. “Do you ever wonder what became of yesterday? / And all of those summers when we gave our hearts away?” Niamh asks. Soaring backing vocals on the refrain compliment her sultry tone perfectly, and the tune boasts some original images: “I go on about my days and dream about you anyway / like a ghost or a martyr, keeping watch at a grave.” The fast tempo juxtaposes with the sentiment of the lyrics, creating a memorable song.

“Where Are We Today” features a laid-back groove, strumming guitar, and drawn-out vocals. Niamh shows off her abilities, belting out the lyrics and going to the top of her range. Once again, the poetic lyrics paint atmospheric images (“Days fall to dusk now, undefined”). The song builds as it progresses, with increased instrumentation and a blistering guitar solo building a wall of sound. The album ends with the mellow “The Girls.” Ostensibly about the narrator’s weekend plans with friends, it’s really a love letter to her hometown. “Glad to be at the end of the week / now I can spend some time with my city / New York City.” Specific details add to the picture of the city and the depth of feeling: “See the moonbeams drag as the Hudson ripples by / pace as fierce as those cabbies zipping by.” Niamh has a gentle, almost maternal croon as she repeats “New York City.”

It's probably inevitable that a trio of female musicians will attract comparisons to other female and female-led acts, and reviewers have drawn parallels to Heart, 4 Non Blondes, Pat Benatar, Chrissie Hynde, and Lita Ford. While it's discouraging that a fantastic group such as Lily Sparks is automatically held up against only female musicians, one hopes their tight, hard rocking sound, wailing guitars, and hook-filled songs will grant them a place of their own in the rock world.

Written by: Karen Duda, June 22nd 2010

Live Recordings, TV-clips, & Roadmovie

admin — Fri, 04 Jun 2010 16:01:00 +0000

By Kleenex/Liliput

Kill Rock Stars

There is no doubting the strong influence the (mostly) female Swiss band Kleenex (later renamed Liliput) had on current feminist post-punk rock movements like Riot Grrrl. Their brief period of activity was between 1979-1983, (in which they went through many line-up changes), but the band’s music is anything but dated, standing the test of time and a testament to their innovative and influential sound.

Live recordings aren’t always the best representation of a band’s sound—especially when it comes to avant-garde punk music—when even studio recordings can be a bit grainy and under-produced and aurally challenging (rightly so, as it is punk rock!). What live recordings often capture is the spirit of a particular time serving as documentation and historical reference. This is important for all music, yet especially so for obscure, underground bands that helped shaped musical history but have the potential to fall through the cracks. This is why the Kill Rock Stars CD/DVD release of Kleenex/Liliput’s Live Recordings, TV-Clips, & Roadmovie is an important one.

Compared heavily with The Slits, Kleenex/Liliput have a similar tribal/mid-paced punk sound, with funky bass lines, trebled slightly out of tune guitars, sometimes saxophone, and layered female vocals ranging from the nonsensical baby gibberish to the strong, shrill, and assertive (think Kathleen Hanna of Le Tigre and Bikini Kill). If you have not heard their music before, then a better introduction would be the Kill Rock Stars 2001 re-issue of a double CD containing all of the band’s studio recorded songs.

This current release, which contains two live shows, one recorded in Biel in 1979 (when the band was Kleenex) and one, as Liliput, recorded in Zurich in 1983, has that grainy archival quality best reserved for established fans and music history buffs. Not that the sound is terrible; I was actually surprised at the quality, which is another testament to the band’s awesomeness—sloppy enough to be punk rock, but still bearing the hallmarks of good musicianship, and what would have been an awesome live show. The accompanying DVD contains three songs from when the band was Kleenex in 1978 and three from when they were Liliput. It is again interesting to watch as historical documentation, but to be fair, some of it can be found on YouTube.

Overall, this is an excellent and important release from Kill Rock Stars. You will definitely gain feminist punk points having it in your CD collection, but you probably won’t bust it out as often as the aforementioned discography.

Written by: Jyoti Roy, June 4th 2010

Kill Your Darlings: Issue One

admin — Mon, 26 Apr 2010 16:01:00 +0000

Edited by Rebecca Starford

Kill Your Darlings has a lot to live up to. In its inaugural issue its editor, Affirm Press’ Rebecca Starford, says the journal’s mission is to "reinvigorate and re-energise" Australia’s literary scene. She quotes editor Rob Spillman as saying that most journals are "good for you, but they taste awful." Kill Your Darlings intends to redress this—to shake up the medium and "publish literature that bites back." A big, bold statement.

First let me say that I love the title of this attractive new journal. It is an apt reference to the advice that writers are so often given. The bit you love the most is the bit that has to go. Editing your own work is a ruthless business, and cutting your ‘baby’ up can feel like murder. So, Kill Your Darlings is a perfect choice of title that is edgy and attention grabbing, and therefore sure to help with marketing. Moreover, the cover design is striking, the layout clean and readable, and the standard of editing (so often lacking these days) is high. In short, it’s a pleasure to curl up on the couch with.

The journal opens with Gideon Haigh’s biting (yes, they’ve succeeded there) assessment of the current state of reviewing. I suspect some may view this essay as deliberately provocative, but he makes some valid points about what he describes as the generally "lacklustre" fare on offer characterised by "its sheer dullness and inexpertise." He attributes much of the problem to timid reviewers who fear future retribution when their own work comes up for review, but also to newspapers and magazines who pay poorly (if at all) for reviews and begrudge the space they occupy. The critique has already sparked debate, which can only be a good thing.

On finishing reading this essay I, of course, turned straight to the review section at the back to see how Kill Your Darlings' measured up. There are two brief reviews, which surely for their length alone would paradoxically be lambasted under Haigh’s criteria (he quotes George Orwell’s opinion that 1000 words should be the "bare minimum" for any worthwhile review). Nevertheless, snappy reviews do serve a purpose and it’s good to see them included here alongside two much longer reviews. Starford’s consideration of Mary Gaitskill’s Don’t Cry certainly falls within Orwell’s ballpark, and makes a serious attempt to examine this latest offering within the broader context of her body of work. And there’s a lengthy review of The Wire, which Anthony Morris claims is "the best television drama series ever made." (I’m not convinced.)

But back to the ‘commentary’ section. I found Tracy Crisp’s reflective story about the elusive nature of inspiration and the difficulty in trying to write and mother simultaneously compelling. How to be the kind of writer she wants to be and the kind of mother is a conundrum to which I can relate. Then there’s Clementine Ford’s wryly amusing article on internet dating, and Paul Mitchell’s moving and funny account of guiltily bonding with his tweenage daughter over shopping despite his anti-consumerist principles.

It’s great to see an article by former Canberran Justin Heazlewood (aka The Bedroom Philosopher) featured. His commentary on the death of the album and his dad-like resistance to it makes for entertaining reading. The desire for musos to hold their own album in their hands (and not just on their iPod) is surely one to which many authors can relate (the desire for a beautiful object not just a file on an eReader). Ultimately, though, resistance will surely prove futile.

The only disappointment was Georgia Gowing’s commentary on the derby phenomenon. As a regular roller derby-goer I wanted more. For me, it didn’t entirely capture the electric energy and drama of a derby match and, other than a few interesting soundbites from the girls themselves, it failed to offer any fresh insights. Perhaps delving into links to punk culture and third wave feminism might have afforded it greater depth.

The fiction section includes seven short stories of which Patrick Cullen’s is the standout. "Carver’s Unkempt Lawn" imagines a meeting between four famous American writers in the home of Tess Gallagher and Raymond Carver, who is dying. The subtle elegance of this beautifully crafted story had me captivated. I also admired "Clinching" by Emmett Stinson, which throws us into the futile struggle of an emotionally disconnected couple—characters who leap boldly and vividly from the page. And then there’s Chris Womersley’s "Theories of Relativity," which opens with an arresting first line and just gets better from there. It is an unsettling tale of a dysfunctional family seen through the eyes of its youngest child who doesn’t discover the shocking inner world of his family until his twenty-first year. Womersley reveals the story in layers, masterfully leading us towards the final brutal punch. I haven’t read his first novel, The Low Road, which won the 2008 Ned Kelly Award for Best First Fiction, but I’ll certainly be seeking it out now.

I must confess that I was initially skeptical about whether Kill Your Darlings could live up to its own hype. Well, dear Reader, I was wrong to have doubted. Issue one is a damn fine read. I look forward to seeing what the next one brings.

Cross-posted from Overland

Written by: Irma Gold, April 26th 2010

Good Problems

admin — Mon, 19 Apr 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Summer People

Red Leader Records

Ah, spring time on a New England college campus! I always forget what it’s like when everyone emerges out of the stacks of the library, poorly-lit dorms, and stuffy classrooms to congregate on the sunny main green. Amid intellectual circle-discussions, shirtless Frisbee tosses, romantic lunches, and hipster dance parties, the upstate New York band Summer People couldn’t have picked a better time to release Good Problems, a seemingly perfect soundtrack for this cultural phenomenon.

Eight people collaborated on Good Problems, which was recorded live with no effects, giving it a gritty, authentic feel. Thirteen tracks is awfully ambitious for a freshman project, but the Summer People’s debut proves to be a noteworthy, sophisticated, eclectic mix of classic rock, folk, punk, and indie sounds. Each track evokes a completely different experience of sounds and moods, yet the album as a whole comes together seamlessly and brilliantly.

Several songs on Good Problems give the airy, folksy feel of Fleet Foxes or Death Cab for Cutie, including “Two Hearted River,” “The Other Side,” and “Curtained Rain.” With cheery lyrics, chants, handclaps, and guitar, these tracks produce a delicate acoustic sound that greatly contrast with the other, more traditionally alternative rock vibe of “Shallow Water People,” “Balcony,” and “Two Truths.” With slow buildups to loud percussion and the occasional off-key screaming, some reviewers have commented on the “bi-polar mood swings” of these tracks, and really, the album as a whole. It swings back down to a more melancholic, electric, instrumental feel with “For Giving In” and “The Sun Was Up,” which have a similar to sound to Sigur Rós- both poetic and haunting.

While not everyone will appreciate the experimental, artsy sound of Good Problems', both the messy rock tracks and the poetic mellow instrumentals match the eclectic conglomeration of warm weather gatherings, and is a perfect fit to the desperate enjoyment of the sun right before the exam time crunch. As the title of the album suggests, despite the stress, college life is filled with generally good problems.

Written by: Abigail Chance, April 18th 2010

Sick: A Compilation Zine on Physical Illness

admin — Thu, 15 Apr 2010 16:01:00 +0000

Edited by Ben Holtzman

Microcosm Publishing

It surrounds us. No matter how difficult, awkward, or painful, we will inevitably come into contact with it. But despite its ubiquity, physical illness continues to be one of the most challenging subjects for people to broach.

Sick is a compilation zine on physical illness that offers up the experiences and perspectives of individuals living with illness. Whether dealing with incurable polycystic kidney disease, coping with cancer, or struggling with an unnamed medical condition, each piece, no matter how distinct, explores common themes of support, communication, and community. Each writer concisely documents her or his personal struggle with illness and sheds light onto the stigmatization of sickness and deep-seated taboos that hinder dialogue. Apart from exploring the painful consequences of living in a society unaccustomed to discussing illness, the writers offer valuable tools that teach us to be considerate and helpful allies.

Sick gracefully navigates its way through a wide range of experiences as it aims to open the channels of communication and establish a collective voice for those impacted by illness. How do we respond when someone tells us they are sick? How many people in our community are transparent about having a disability or illness? What can we do to help each other feel welcome, equal, and supported?

The zine also considers exclusivity within radical/DIY/punk scenes. How does someone’s level of health determine their participation in a particular community? Riding a bicycle, marching in a protest, and dumpster diving, for instance, are activities accessible primarily to the able-bodied. To avoid being ostracized or dismissed, many sick individuals find themselves pushed into the proverbial closet of shame and isolation.

In our culture, sickness is a private affair. We have been socialized to fear or ignore it. Consequently, sick people must not only learn to manage their own disease, but are often burdened with others’ inability to openly discuss and cope with illness. Often racked with feelings of guilt, isolation, and alienation, it is essential that a sick person’s experiences are acknowledged and validated. This is what Sick achieves. It opens dialogue and validates experience. Perhaps we cannot understand what it means to have supraventricular tachycardia, but we can learn to listen and ask our friends how we can provide the support they need.

Though the accounts in Sick can be grim or downright disturbing, the writers’ warm resilience brightens every page with hope for opening discourse and dismantling entrenched social norms. It’s the writers’ heartfelt declarations and earnest desire to create a caring community that makes this read so compelling.

Sick is a compassionate, honest work and a necessary first step toward understanding the complexities of physical illness and building communities of support. It is challenging and tender; it is unprecedented and accessible.

Written by: Sofia Marin, April 15th 2010

You Don’t Have to Fuck People Over to Survive

admin — Wed, 14 Apr 2010 16:01:00 +0000

By Seth Tobocman

AK Press

You Don’t Have to Fuck People Over to Survive is a collection of graphic work by comic artist and activist Seth Tobocman. The artwork dates back to 1980, when Tobocman and Peter Kuper founded the political comix magazine War World 3 Illustrated, and critical issues of this era are addressed, including Reaganomics, the AIDS pandemic, gentrification struggles in New York City, the occupation of Palestine, and the imprisonment of Mumia Abu-Jamal.

You Don’t Have to Fuck People Over to Survive was originally published in 1989 and then again ten years later. Both times it sold out quickly. This most recent acquisition and printing from AK Press is a sign of Tobocman’s work's longevity, and the continued demand for his politically conscious art.

Tobocman is a fixture of New York City’s downtown punk scene and the Lower East Side squatter’s movement. Chances are local readers have seen him in his Lower East Side neighborhood, maybe reading at Bluestockings or ABC No Rio. Tobocman, like his comics, is accessible, present, and engaged in his community. His comics have never been recognized or celebrated by the mainstream art market, which is not surprising considering his critique of bourgeois conformist politics, and Tobocman produces art for the street, not the gallery.

This latest release of You Don’t Have to Fuck People Over to Survive gives longtime fans, as well as first-time readers, a chance to enjoy Tobocman’s art and utilize his images (as activists and community organizers often have) to produce political posters, buttons, patches, and graffiti. The direct and utilitarian nature of Tobocman’s work, and of comic art in general, is so appealing because you get an immediate, straightforward, and high impact method of communication and direct action marketing. You Don’t Have to Fuck People Over to Survive is a creative, in-your-face resource and a critical tool for resistance.

Written by: Jeanne Vaccaro, April 14th 2010

The Last Thing You Forget

admin — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 01:00:00 +0000

By Title Fight

Run For Cover

Title Fight's The Last Thing You Forget is one of the best punk albums I've heard in a while. Incredibly catchy, energetic, and addictive, I'd recommend listening to it on the Metro on your morning commute. It screams of being young and feeling alive. You'll feel like you can conquer the world.

"Symmetry" is rapidly guitar-driven, with perfectly controlled yells augmenting the already fantastic vocals. The varying tempos of "Memorial Field" complement its biting lyrics," You said the words in my mouth were more alive than I was." "Loud and Clear" is amazingly melodic; it's close to being the perfect post-hardcore punk song. I love the muted vocals in the background toward the end. "Neck Deep" features overlapping vocals reminiscent of Taking back Sunday's "Cute Without the E."

However, for those looking for something new, this may not be your album. Title Fight makes no attempt to reinvent the wheel. They hold steady to the predictable formula established by melodic hardcore bands of the '90s, transitioning through the various tempos with the standard culminating guitar riff present in most songs.

This is not to say that "nothing new" is a bad thing. Sometimes predictable is good, if the predictable is exactly what I'm looking for. I was in late high school and college during melodic hardcore's heyday, so this album could very well have been the soundtrack to my formative young adult years. This genre of music has a way of instantly energizing the listener. The guitar riffs are uplifting, and yet there's a sense of rage in the vocals. Combine this contradiction of sound with a simplicity of structure, and you've got punk perfection, and Title Fight gets you there. Whether you're looking for a bit of nostalgia, or a solid example from the genre, Title Fight's latest effort gets a solid "A," and I had a lot of fun listening to it.

Written by: Meg Rayford, December 30th 2009

Rebel Rebel: Anti-Style

admin — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 17:23:00 +0000

By Keanan Duffty, Paul Gorman

Rizzoli

I have always been interested in the fashion of subcultures. I've been stenciling my clothes, painting stuff on them, adding studs and strategic rips, sewing random things together and pillaging thrift stores since I was a freshman in high school—which is why designer Keanan Duffty's book Rebel Rebel: Anti-Style originally caught my eye. A style guide with a chick wearing chucks and fishnets on the cover seemed awesome!

Duffty himself has also been embellishing clothes since he was a child and, like most subculture fashionistas, was inspired by the music, particularly The Sex Pistols and David Bowie. His book reads like part autobiography, part look-book catalog, part intro to modern fashion history, and part helpful style guide.

I'd never heard of Duffty before, so his life was a somewhat interesting read, but I did not find myself impressed with the photos of his work included in the book. I'm not sure if it's just that the collection included is mostly from his later years, but to me his style was less "Rebel Rebel" and more mall punk, easily found at your nearest Kohl's. Duffty does include inspiration and scant ways for the reader to embellish and make their own clothing creations, though, so one could simply use his ideas as a springboard and go from there.

I also wasn't too impressed with the fashion history aspect of the book. While a lot of facts were interesting, such as the entire history of the jean pants, some facts were blatantly untrue: No, the Beats were not called the Beats as short for 'deadbeat,' and no, the hippie scene did not spring from the Carnaby Street Mod scene (it had been going on slightly earlier—and in America). There were just so many errors that even I, a somewhat average reader, picked up on that it made me question some of Duffty's more plausible bits of trivia.

Rebel Rebel: Anti-Style could be a good coffee table book, as it's rather large and, again, some of the illustrations are really nice, but I wouldn't pull it out to impress the FIT grads—or sit down and read it again.

Written by: Jen Klee, September 30th 2009

Rainwater Cassette Exchange

admin — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 23:25:00 +0000

By Deerhunter

Kranky

Deerhunter's latest album, Rainwater Cassette Exchange, is just five songs in fifteen minutes. Five songs perfectly placed and executed, there is nothing superfluous and nothing lacking. The five-piece group creates an experimental synthesis of noise pop, shoegaze and psych rock to produce an incredibly refreshing and complete masterpiece.

Rainwater Cassette Exchange is vivid, mesmerizing and transcendent. Ethereal vocals and fuzzy guitars coalesce with heart-pumping bass lines as they transport the listener to another world. The band draws on bells, slide guitars, organs, synths, theremins, and more to produce a disorienting and stunningly beautiful sound.

Ghostly echoes and ambient reverb are offset by dark lyrics charged with raw human struggle. When singer Bradford Cox asks, "Do you believe in love at first sight?" the response is taunting resignation: "Oh yes my son, I did before I died. And now it does me no good on the other side." The vocals are sweetly hypnotic, but they are also foreboding and tormented.

While it seems impossible to choose a favorite, "Disappearing Ink" is one of the best tracks on Rainwater Cassette Exchange. The song fearlessly drives the album with untiring guitar riffs, pulsating bass lines, slurring vocals and airy moans. Despite using disappearing ink, "the words still sting." The song leaves no room to escape the inevitability of pain and suffering. Thrashing drums finish the song with a naked moment of self-loathing, "What was I thinking? What was I thinking?"

Each song on this album cleverly develops complex themes of impermanence, mortality, futility and our susceptibility to life's merciless unpredictability. Cox gives us a taste of his own experience struggling with Marfan syndrome, a genetic disorder characterized by abnormally long limbs and a proneness to heart disease.

What's truly gripping about this album is that with each listen, there is something new. What at first sounds distorted and chaotic becomes deliberate and clear. What sounds encouraging and optimistic is fraught with conflict and distress. There is something in these carefully crafted songs, traversing the gamut of competing human thoughts and emotions, that is both disturbing and cathartic. The depth and complexity of each song make every listen better than the last.

Deerhunter has composed an album that intoxicates listeners as it gracefully navigates beyond contradictions. It is upbeat and drenched in anguish. It is confident and exposed. It is both deer and hunter.

Written by: Sofia Marin, September 28th 2009

C'est La Dernière Chanson

admin — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 22:57:00 +0000

By Maher Shalal Hash Baz

K Records

When the songs on Maher Shalal Hash Baz’s latest release, C'est La Dernière Chanson, last longer than thirty-seven seconds, they are very enjoyable. The eighteenth record for the band is a two disc album consisting of a total of 277 songs ranging from a confusing eleven seconds of horns and drums to three minutes and one second of musical pleasure. Founded by Tori Kudo, the group is now centered around a core group of three musicians (Tori, his wife Reiko Kudo, and Hiroo Nakazaki), but Maher Shalal Hash Baz’s lineup has changed over the band’s eighteen years with a steady stream of incoming and outgoing talent.

The English translation of the Japanese group’s name seems as mysterious as it does in the original Hebrew. Taken from Isaiah 8:1 and 8:3, the name means, “Hurrying to the spoil, he has made haste to the plunder." Musically, however, the band has concocted a multi-genre dish of musical flavor. A catchy jazz base is typically sprinkled with folk and peppered with unique rock overtones. Many of the short songs are congruent in their frequent bursts of a-tonal arrangement, yet maintain an endearing quality. The occasional vocal tracks are equally intriguing in Japanese and English, whether you understand or not.

Currently, the only song available on the group’s Myspace page, "Joab," is longer (three times longer) than many compositions on C'est La Dernière Chanson and is from a different record. At the same time, it still gives an accurate taste of what you may be biting off with this newest release. Something about Maher Shalal Hash Baz’s noise is so painfully cute that even the parts that don’t sound good feel strangely pleasant.

I strongly recommend investing nine minutes in "Joab" to see whether or not you can live without this band.

Written by: Tatiana Ryckman, September 15th 2009