Various Artists – Cochen en Boite

admin — Thu, 22 Mar 2007 19:03:00 +0000

Mislead by the rather alluring title and expecting something on a par with St. Germain’s sleep-inducing tooting, I practically wept with the grief only an avid music fan can know when forth from my stereo spilled the stomach disrupting lyrical expulsion of Jillian Iva breathing, “I'm a love maker, soul shaker, body manipulator,” in a manner not far removed from Cher’s auto tune incident. I persevered through hallucinations of topless grinding, dax wax a go go clichés of all night gay bars, cringing at the cheesy lyric overload. The Kohl Heart: “so dot your ‘i’s and cross your ‘t’s ‘cause baby you’re just like a disease.” Hey Willpower: “I’m ok with playing truth or dare so long as you end up in your underwear” and on it went. Needless to say, I was rather disturbed.

Cochon en Boite is a selective showcase of bands signed to Cochen and Princehouse Records, a painfully artsy and hip crowd based in hilly San Francisco. However, the album isn’t a complete lost cause. Kicking off around track seven with ProCon’s 80s stomper, moving swiftly to Vanishing’s “Idol Eyes” for some serious pumping hypnotism and the brilliant Veronica Lipgloss and her Evil Eyes are like a parade of marching Kat Bjellands playing Diamanda Galas on ghetto blasters. Finally, the concluding track by Paradise Island, Jenny Hoyston’s (of Erase Errata fame) solo project, is without a doubt the saving grace of this record.

Written by: Emily Aoibheann McDonnell, March 22nd 2007

Kicking On

admin — Sat, 10 Mar 2007 02:12:00 +0000

By Gin Palace

Artrocker

On their website, Gin Palace are described as “a 3 piece: lady singer, no bass guitar, no hi-hats” and Kicking On is their début LP. Emerging not from the dusty deserts of Dakota or from tornado-famous Kansas, but from the indie riddled smog of London, singer Meaghan Wilkie can drive one hell of a rowdy herd. Exhibiting a controlled ferocity comparable to Lydia Lunch and lyrical articulation that Toms Robbins might admire, this woman’s luxurious baritone drawl holds sway over the tangiest of guitar tones and crash of cymbal-filled drums. Although the musical maulings of guitarist Jon Free and drummer Stuart Bell career along on the brink of nose bleed, Wilkie’s undulating voice sports a mocking curl and saunters - hips swinging - through the mess, like the roll of a rocking chair on the porch of preach. And yet, the dominant element of this album is its frantic urgency which hits you a smack in the mouth, giving you only a moment to contemplate the event before shaking some dust and setting off on another thigh slapping, microphone toting, "knicker sniffin’’ thrash happening.

Written by: Emily Aoibheann McDonnell, March 9th 2007