Posts Tagged ‘Southpaw’

Warm Soda – “Renegade Mode”

I’m still a sucker for Matthew Melton’s brand of power pop tipped with danger and denim and feeling every bit like the soundtrack to your summer crush. After several solid LPs, he’s got a new single in the pipe (out for a bit I admit but still crushing nonetheless). The A-side has a bit more sneer than is usually attached to Warm Soda’s often dreamy-eyed pulse; there’s a stomping beat, punctuated with an organ squirm. Its got just a touch of the old Snake Flower feeling to it and that’s not a bad thing at all. There’s less acrid asphalt melt than his old band had but still a bit of that hot leather burn to it. The b-side is a true Soda jam though, its got that hazed billow and soft slam that’s riding high on a bass line that struts through the halls like it owns the damn place. Both tracks are more than welcome around here anytime and there are still some choice bits of limited vinyl on hand over there.


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Outtacontroller

Halifax’s Outtacontroller have a lock on buzz saw fuzz with a heavy dose of pop thrown on top to keep you constantly coming back for more; knocking out aural Adderall for the ADD generation. Their sophomore LP, a three-way tag team from Southpaw, P-Trash and Young Modern, is full of scuzzed out riffs, the loose, swagger bounce of drums and the cavestomp echo of vocals n’ handclaps pushing tempos towards the red. They’re not rewriting the book but they’ve studied well and there’s more than enough room in this world for a few more pogo rounds about girls, pizza and R. Stevie Moore? Eh, why not, I’ve got more than enough love for Nashville’s ringleader of weird, so why shouldn’t he deserve an anthem of his own? The boys keep things down and dirty and hewn close to the Ramones-rooted school of faster, louder, done. Though they seem to add more fizz than bands with lesser marrow in their bones. This one’s been stuck on my headphones for more than a few go ’rounds and it doesn’t look to be leaving anytime soon. Not much here breaks the three minute mark, but that’d be way too long to stretch these buoyant blasts anyhow. If you can’t pick up and run with it 90 second caffeinated bursts then the hell with you, Outtacontroller probably don’t have time for you anyhow.




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Slick!

The force of glam runs strong through Slick! and that’s probably because Nick Slick has spent his tenure in quite a few acolytes of the glittered stomp, trading time in Glitz, Apache and backing The Runaways’ Cherrie Currie for a time. In the wake of Glitz’ demise he’s back with a new outlet for 70’s riffs taller than a triple stack and pulling a spot on sweat tribute to his forebears. Yeah yeah yeah, I know, what the world needs is another glam punk band like it needs another pothole, but I say, hell if you can bleed leather and rock the alter of Alice Cooper and The Sweet with equal aplomb then more power to you. The album’s a full tilt, dance inducing slice of sex obsessed rock ‘ roll and its easy to see how this is a close sibling of Glitz’ Its Glitz. Though in a way it also reminds me of Cozy’s Button by Button an album that knew that bubblegum lies at the heart of glam. The frothy organ lines that thread their way through a few tracks find the band tripping on that excellent tipping point when rock took itself less seriously again and glam found its childish heart and sense of swagger. For an album only available as 500 run cassette, this has a huge sound and its the kind of album that luck should stick permanently in the deck of your ’87 Escort. Blowin’ lights with Slick! on the speakers seems a natural fit.





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