Injustice permeates our lives. The fact that “Reagan” was not recognized worldwide as a hit supreme on the level of “I Left My Heart in San Francisco” or “You Are My Sunshine” is only the latest in a series of injustices tormenting my days. When the boys Heat troll on “La la la la la” my knees get weak and I swoon like homosexual Beatlemania. They’re not gay, it’s more like me falling for them. But I’m not gay either…oh just forget it.
The juice on this one is acoustic redux called “I Fucked Up Reagan” which completes wholesome apple pie pigtails and dirt road dreams. Complete with added on gunshots and other criminal sound affects possibly taken from “Grand Theft Auto”. Coulda fooled me if you said it was an early Weezer outtake. Majestic in its beauty.
“Macho Man” is pure WWH fuzzbass jam-ola. They write Beck songs almost as good as Beck does.
These are the reasons you need to buy singles.
“Air Miami” isn’t my favorite WWH song. That’s not the point. What we need to talk about is the jaw-dropping package.
Here’s how I imagine pitching the packaging…
“Reverse-board, full-color gatefold sleeve ain’t enough. No…we must go further. We must include a three-paneled insert with full-color finger puppet punch-outs depicting each member of the band in full table tennis regalia. Swanson must hold his paddle like a pro. Let’s also include a foldable/usable ball, net, scoreboard and two name indicators. Yes…that will be sufficient awesomeness for this single.”
And that’s exactly what they did. Non-lp b-side “Backhand” is more winsome whirlwind delight.
Yet another reason you should be buying singles.
I could listen to Tim Vulgar’s guitar playing endlessly. Equal parts the Victims and Ramones quick-wristed bar chords never gets boring. What causes someone to like something so much? Was it nature or nurture with me? Were my parents closet punkers? Or is it just in my DNA with no hopes of escaping it? I dunno, I’m just glad this gimme my fix. You know you need to buy this, so what I say here is irrelevant. “Dino Bones” is raved-up, revved up ravioli mucus love. Their pinnacle? “Hologram” (a Urinals cover) is left-over from a never-released In The Red 45. Might’ve been better if it stayed that way. “Shapes and Numbers” edges on a softer side, kinda, reminiscent of the Clone Defects “Shapes of Venus”…what is it with Timmy V. and shapes and softness? It’s all on eyeball looking colored vinyl…clear vinyl with splotches of gray and red just barely tossed in to look like blood vessels. Clever. Minus points just because I like giving Fred at Ypsilanti shit:
33rpm on A-side has only one song (it’s okay to have one side 33 and one side 45, you should never pass up a chance to have a song at 45rpm, that’s how it was meant to be)
Goofed up track list with “Hologram” inverted with “Shapes and Numbers” on sleeve.
The upcoming Human Eye 7” on Cass totally rules harder than this one though. But that’s just me talking.
Inept girlie goodness. Mick always says the Slits sucked once they learned how to play their instruments. This must be how they sounded before. Hand-screened sleeves, 12 songs squeezed in and you’d bet your copy of C86 that they weren’t really from Austin, TX but more likely Brighton, UK. Maybe teenage/young girls could never really replicate the crude “Back From the Grave” style and conversely young dudes could never really dupe the vent of Raincoats, Slits, Spex DIY post-punk gold? That would be poetic…that the same frustrated, teenage boredom comes out in totally different, totally amazing ways. And peace on earth and goodwill towards man.
Red Red Red
Fast punk. Ex-Piranhas. Wonky artwork. Probably great live. B-side instrumental. No real complaints. No real praise. Just want more.
The Shirley Maclaines
Impossible to be an Austrian all-girl punk band and not get compared to Kleenex, (even if they were from Switzerland). I think I’ve heard this in a previous life.
self-released (Doons Tunes?)
“Santa ain’t no Santa no more/He’s turned into a luchador” is about all you need to know. The eternal giver of presents has forsaken his calling and turned to Mexican masked wrestling. Only in the eyes of 9-year-old Shane. Bolero bull-fighting guitaro romp is aces but should be accompanied by “aaaiiiaaaiiiaaaiii” that the rebels is always yelling in cowboy flicks. “Torro, torro, hoho, hoho” is so deceptively simple that I just pause and wonder with amazement before I realize that Shane’s almost got down Cobain’s guitar solo tone from the “In Utero” tour. A force to be reckoned with. The Muldoons are writing the best punk songs since the Germs. Guaranteed.