Page 26 - the NOISE June 2013

b Ugh
bb Eh
bbb Solid
bbbb Gold bbbbb Total Classic
misstep. The Everlys were all over the rock n roll/country map and are probably more re- sponsible for making that map than is real- ized, at least by today’s listeners of the pop charts the Everlys once dominated.
The song selection includes no easily iden- tifiable hits, at least by this reviewer, (besides the opener, Kris Kristofferson’s “Breakdown” which comes off as a spiritual incantation of Kristofferson’s) and a couple of the songs, I had to check to make sure these weren’t just Bonnie ‘Prince’ Oldham’s songs, they sound- ed so much so. (“Poems, Prayers, and Prom- ises” and “Kentucky” for examples) and if one is an Oldham fan, this becomes particularly interesting.
“What Am I Living For” is pure heartbreak- ing gold. As I’m sure it has been since 1958. (This reviewer couldn’t help but notice that Angel Olsen’s very best song, “The Tiniest Seed” lifted the riff wholesale. Play the two songs back to back, as they’ve been on my playlist all season.) “Somebody Helps Me” rocks hard in this almost jarring cheeseball vamp. It’s only redeemable quality is how damn fun it sounds to sing. It has a “Stepping Stone” quality that is just too hard to resist for any goofball rocker.
This reviewer has never been much of a Fawn Fables fan, but I can say with confi- dence that both song interpreters here have better albums of their own material. Howev- er, this fares far better than Oldham’s last cov- er album (with Tortoise- though that album is possibly a bit underrated) and is far less of an intense listening experience than some of Oldham’s darker work. This is simply a strong batch of songwriting interpreted with love, which flows out of the speakers unabashed.
Retox; Bleeding Rainbow
San Diego, California, home of Gravity Re- cords, Drive Like Jehu, Clikitat Ikatowi, Strug- gle, and Swing Kids. That sad boy began tak- ing Greyhounds to San Diego to find Gravity Records. By the time he got there, the dream was pretty much over. Or it was some fantasy in his mind from the get go. San Diego was Phoenix with a beach. And more goths.
By that time, there was The Locust. The Locust blew apart hardcore music’s conven- tions and the kids just didn’t know how to react to their sound and aesthetics, which became full on prog rock as they reached the end of their tenure. It was sort of like DEVO for the next generation, but with blast beats and Old Testament plagues.
Justin Pearson, of Struggle, Swing Kids, Some Girls, and the Locust, formed Retox a year or two ago. Like OFF!, which also fea- tures some heavyweight hardcore legends, nostalgia is an obvious hurdle. The two southern California bands don’t seem to shy away from it. With Angry Samoans still tour- ing, a couple joke versions of Black Flag cash- ing in, and Bad Religion still beating their dead horse, it’s a significant block in the road. Luckily, Retox (and OFF!) also have feet firmly planted in the present.
On YPLL, the snotty anger comes off as righteous. The beauty of this near perfect onslaught is the twelve well-named songs flying by in almost exactly twenty-two min- utes. The pissed off monotony is short, sweet, and beautiful. Retox sheds the Locust’s key- boards like those cool exoskeletons they leave on tree bark, avoids a lot of the Rush/ STYX rock opera theatrics and turns the gui- tars into synthesizers and the emphasis is on the impossible speed, ridiculous changes, and drummers that are straight up marathon runners that can stop, flip around, and per- form musical acrobatics, all in the eye of the needle camels get through on a rich man’s way to heaven.
The process has been streamlined. Pear- son seems to ape all of the Locust’s vocalists (and Born Against’s Sam McPheeters) into a series of Muppet cultural analysis practitio- ners that make the Daily Show seem like 60 Minutes. Conclusion: we’re all f*cked.
The Epitaph imprint had this geezer, that same silly boy, assuming this record would be garbage. When was the last time Epi-
Refreshing and timeless.
Retox
YPLL
Epitaph
jjjj
— FC
Once upon a time, there was a boy. A clue- less boy from Phoenix, Arizona with zero culture and zero education. That boy found skateboarding, and through skateboarding, punk rock, and through punk rock, salvation. The center of that boy’s universe was Wash- ington D.C, home of Dischord Records and
26 • JUNE 2013 • the NOISE arts & news • thenoise.us