Posts Tagged ‘Garage’

Jacuzzi Boys – “Happy Damage”

Man I never realize how much I miss Jacuzzi Boys until they make a return. Breaking away to form their own label, Mag Mag, the band has an EP on the way and from the sounds of “Happy Damage” great things can be expected. The track crackles with a huge energy, bouncing with the cherry Pez vibes and low hip swagger that have been trademarks of the band. The video captured the band in their live glory, looking like they’ve never been more at home anywhere else than under the lights in your town for just a night.

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Peacers

Ah Mike Donovan, you glorious bastard, back again and all is right. That Sic Alps suffered on the periphery of the public consciousness is one of the true musical travesties of our times. Drag City did its best to up the awareness but the band couldn’t hold together and alas Donovan’s recent solo endeavor of country-fried jams spent not enough time on your turntable as well. Well hell, now’s your time to right the wrongs of these many years, as good king Segall is involved and mayhaps this time people will turn their ears the right way. Peacers is built on the same hip-slung acousta-fry that’s permeated all Sic Alps’ releases and as such, the songs in this set writhe uncomfortably against the itch of their stitches until they pull a thread loose. Leaden with a kind of smoke haze that seemingly has no origin, the record tumbles, albeit with a surprising grace, through fifteen bay-area lost radio transmissions, surfing the ionosphere and catching the bent antennas of those with the right kind of short-wave mind to handle the payload of this eponymous affair. If you’re sleeping on this, then all I can say is that I’m sorry for you. Get right with your fuzz gods.


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The Hussy

There were few albums that sparked as much joy around here as The Hussy’s Pagan Hiss from 2013. The album took your standard, work-a-day garage rock palette and injected a looseness and skewed pop playfulness to it that bordered on infectious. On their third album, the Wisconsin duo spit-polish the push/pull of their pop dynamic even further. Focusing on a heavier guitar sound and incorporating violin, lap steel and a barrage of effects pedals, the album marks a turn of the duo’s already bubbly songs into a headrush of fizzing hooks. Buzzsaw cascades of sound one minute and the next they blow the dust away to lean back into an orchestral tinged weeper. Its definitely the sound of a band finding footing and slotting themselves up nicely with some of their other ambitiously minded peers like Ty and Mikal who’ve taken those garage instincts and pop mindset and let the screen blow wide, making grander statements than anyone ever really expected of them.



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Thee Tsunamis

Oof, Thee Tsunamis make good on that EP from last year with a ripper of an album. Saturday Night Sweetheart blasts through candy coated garage like a bad habit. Not necessarily rewriting any books or hooks but to be fair this one seizes you more like a coloring book anyhow so what’s to be rewritten? Scribbled deliriously outside the lines and shredded to confetti before you could ever catch a glimpse, the album is frothy and fun, all swooning love songs, b-movie brawls and late night laments rolled in leather. The ranks of garage are legion these days and the best bits float along the top because you can practically feel the band having fun through the speakers, coaxing you out of your sad little funk and forcing those feet to move. For a dose of toughed up, take no shit Brill Building wrecking ball pop; you’d be remiss to look any further than Thee Tsunamis.


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Thee Oh Sees

Am I perpetually in a state of reviewing Oh Sees albums? Sometimes it feels like it. Even with that “hiatus” the band has an intimidating output, that at this time is getting tough to crack for new listeners. As with most of the band’s albums Mutilator Defeated At Last is rife with John Dwyer’s signature reverb howl, blasting through the fog of guitars like a pink neon blast from a toy ray gun. And though, like this, many hallmarks of Thee Oh Sees sound hang heavy on the album, it expands on the formula nicely. There’s a heavy freakout quality to the album making it feel more substantial than its thirty-three odd minutes. Dwyer’s been at this long enough that he’s trimmed some of the fat and left room only for a suite that punches furiously out of the gate with a sweet dip of cool water in the form of “Sticky Hulks” on the back half bringing the comedown. It feels like a study in how to make psych succeed. While The Drop was a surprise return last year, it doesn’t list among my essential Oh Sees, but Mutilator has climbed higher on the list than I’d thought so far into their catalog. Its here and gone before you realize and in true fashion, leaves you wanting to knock that needle back to the start.

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Warm Soda – “Can’t Erase This Feeling”

Said it before but I’ll say it again, Warm Soda have mastered power pop’s yearn and crunch and here they take all the high school crush touches from their song “Can’t Erase This Feeling” and give them a proper after school setting. Burgers seem to be the theme for this record and this shitty restaurant hangout is giving me high school PTSD. But in the end Matthew Melton fights for justice and the girl while making it feel like a way bigger deal. More tabletop burger dance parties should be on the menu. This one looks as fun as it sounds.

Support the artist. Buy it: HERE (pick it up while the Ketchup / Mustard swirl is still available.

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Swiftumz

Chris McVicker’s gauzy power pop may have slipped under your radar in the last few years. His first album, the sorely underrated Don’t Trip came out via Holy Mountain, more known for stoner metal than clean lines and upbeat sparkle. In the interim he’s let slip a few singles that also can’t help but put a sly smile on your face, bouncing out of the speakers on springs and pushing the clouds aside every time. So its great news that a second album is finding its way into the world on Melters.

Everybody Loves Chris follows along the path he’s trodden previously, dotting the album with some effervescent pop hooks but never getting caught in making that the sole focus. For every bit of jangle and every candy coated chorus there’s a track that’s caked in thick froth, shrouding any trace of sunny pop and finding joy in the dark corners of his catalog. The album twists itself into knots that earworm straight to your brain and take root. McVicker’s pop vision seems like the kind of album that would have reviewers flocking, a fucked pop nugget that can’t be contained or pinned down. Hopefully this time it’ll push through the surface and find that audience that it deserves.



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