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No Idea Records


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Below are some recently posted reviews.

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We Are the Star People: LP
The Alternative Tentacles website presents this band as an innovative, heavy psych act. They remind me of generic ‘90s radio rock. They have a song called “Dreamchild.” Even Paul Stanley would pull quality control on that title. They have nice guitar tones, but that’s about as far as I got with it. It probably sounds better live –Billups Allen (Alternative Tentacles)

Teenage Rattlesnakes: LP
Garage punk that feels like it has more in common with Devo than New Bomb Turks. Interesting in that I don’t think I’ve heard a modern band ever sound quite like this. The rhythms and tempos are erratic and peculiar, a quality which I’ve come to appreciate. Not as dirty as the name might imply. You’d think for a band called the Trashies this would be dripping in fuzz, but such was not meant to be. Grade: B. –Bryan Static (1234 Go!, 1234gorecords.com)

Split: 7”
The newest Toys That Kill track, “Maybe This Cult Is Way Off” is glorious. Once again, TTK give the hypnotic surf melodies and run-in-your-head-for-days vocal hooks of the sound they created. In this song something about the band’s mantra lyrics (the song title is repeated at least twenty times) joins with the buzzy jump of distorted bass and activates my blood like a drug. Listening to it makes me want to practice full-court shots, or throw a brick through the mayor’s window: anything to express with my body the excellence of this track. Speaking to the other half of the EP, now is somehow my first time hearing Future Virgins. I missed their well-reviewed album Western Problems, but these two EP tracks “Passing Curse” and “Counting Sheep (Show Me)” are great. They’ve kept me re-listening for echoes of The Jam’s ‘70s clangy guitar and throaty Hüsker Dü singing. The group has a smart rock-influenced punk sound, playing with more than the standard punk power chord and three-part song structure. Taken together, TTK and Future Virgins complement each other on this release. It’s worth picking up for either band. –Jim Joyce (Drunken Sailor, drunkensailorrecs@gmail.com)

Toyotas for Sale: 10”
The pride of Wuppertal, these tuneful-yet-efficient Germans carry on their proud national tradition of high-minded philanthropy by helpfully and selflessly compiling the songs from their three P.Trash singles on one extremely handy 10”. The addition of three bonus covers ((Reducers! Fuck yes! “Tainted Love!” Fuck no!)) ups the ante to fourteen songs in ten inches, with nothing clocking in over 2:25. Like any efficiently-tuned four-cylinder engine, these Toyotas sound something like ‘90s West Coast moddists like The Gain or Odd Numbers crossed with the work of bygone pop punk countrymen like the Cheeks and un-bygone garage punk continentmen like whatever Martin Savage is up to these days. A ten-inch record with fourteen songs this good is almost like having dessert for supper, so pass the Haribo® Gold-Bears and let’s get this party started! BEST SONG: “Kicks & Screams,” unless you count the Reducers cover, which is excellent. BEST SONG TITLE: “Radio Off” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: “Tainted Love” was originally recorded by Gloria Jones in 1964. –norb (P.Trash, ptrashrecords.com)

Center of Saturn: Cassette
Timmy Vulgar: he makes awesome Mexican food, puts out records with Human Eye, and doesn’t need responsibility, man. This cassette tape is for fans only. They’ll love it. Casual Timmy fans (if they exist) won’t. This tape is lo-fi. The fact that halfway through listening to it I figured out that the gnarly hiss coming from the speakers was attributable to my cassette player acting up—and not due to Timmy’s rudimentary recording equipment—speaks volumes for how lo-fi Center of Saturn is. There are some gems on here. The instrumental stuff is nothing short of amazing. There are some free-association tracks as well. If you still have a cassette player and like Timmy Vulgar (come on, people, the latter’s a no-fucking-brainer), pick this one up. –ryan (Flesh Wave, fleshwave.bandcamp.com)

Zero Trux: LP
To be brutally honest, I was expecting a heap o’ generic thrash-o-rama from this, but no, these Australian malcontents manage to make a racket that, while clearly falling within hardcore’s parameters and reeking of U.S. influence, doesn’t follow a rather large herd. Things are mostly kept short, dissonant, and mid-tempo, but they throw themselves fully into the fray, juggling equal parts quirk and antagonism with deft heft. Those looking for something that easily fits into their predetermined pigeonhole criteria will likely be nonplussed by this, but, to again be brutally honest, they fuckin’ deserve to be. –jimmy (Tikdoff, tikdoffband@hotmail.com)

“Freak Cast in Iron” b/w “Books on Hell and “Sermons on TV”: 7”EP
I have a fear of becoming homeless. Gone are the creature comforts of predictable electricity and indoor plumbing. Tenement foregoes the pleasantries of “professional” punk and lives off the land. In the dirt. Blasted by passing exhaust. Overexposed. Cracking. There’s something undeniably desperate, renegade, and wild-eyed about Tenement, even when they play slow and include what sounds like a xylophone. Rebellion without a marketing plan or a retirement fund. Part of the Cowabunga Sick Club. Recommended. –todd (Cowabunga)

Split: 7”
Sundials: Two tracks of catchy indie pop just hittin’ the sweet spot—not too geeky, not too cerebral, not too polished, and not too trashy. Me likey. Tatlin’s Tower: Along the same lines, but maybe a wee bit darker than Sundials. Was initially a bit put off by ‘em for some reason, but as the guitars built up and began to burn ‘n’ churn, they won me over. –jimmy (Kiss Of Death)

We are the Elitist Generation: CD
I’ve said it before in these very pages and I will say it again: Releases like this one reaffirm my faith in the ol’ punk rock. After wading through what seems like an endless parade of bland, radio-friendly pop punk, the reward at the end of the trail is a release like this. Success occupies that rare zone where earnest performance and good songwriting intersect without a trace of irony or the sense that the band wants to be the next big thing. There is maybe one clunker on the whole disc which is otherwise filled with songs that don’t try too hard—instead allowing the material to breathe and go where it will. Whereas in the hands of others, stuff like this might seem contrived or forced, Success pulls it off with aplomb. It seems like these guys are in it for the right reasons and if I haven’t made it clear, this CD is well worth seeking out. –Garrett Barnwell (La Escalera, laescalerarecords.com)

“Never Enough” b/w “Can’t Stand It”: 7”
Unsurprisingly, Straight Arrows deliver another awesome 7”. “Never Enough” is a little slower and heavier than most the songs found on the band’s debut full-length It’s Happening. The B side’s “Can’t Stand It” is a fast-tempo burner. It should go without saying that the production on this 7” is raw, so if you’re looking for the clarity of Eno’s Ambient records—and they do indeed rule—you’re coming to the wrong place. Anyone interested in fucked up music—Red Krayola, Swell Maps, etc.—will benefit greatly from picking this 7” up. The cover art rules, too. Impress your friends at parties with this 45. And if the Straight Arrows ever come through your town, catch them. They’re from Australia and that’s a long plane ride. (Just be careful of drummer Adam. Word on the street is the dude parties harder than Keith Moon.) –ryan (HoZac, hozacrecords.com)

Monterrey: 7”EP
Genres are musical stereotypes. Failure, from a band standpoint, comes from merely photocopying, sticking the “genre” face down on the platen, hitting the button, and making the mistake of being ignorant of the fact there are people with long memories looking over your shoulder, ready to call you out. (Power pop and pop punk bands are particularly egregious.) Genre failure, from a music critic standpoint, is an incipient laziness to interact with the music that’s actually being played. Case in point: Steve Adamyk Band, yeah, they’re poppy, they’re powerful, but there’s oh so much more at play than “skinny ties of the mind.” Because Steve Adamyk makes songs that may sound like glass—they sound so effortless, so easy, so transparent, falsely appearing to be brittle when punched—until you (if you’re a music reviewer or a deep listener) hear the wreckage from so many other bands still trying to pull this style of music off and shitting not only their pants, but into your ears. The Steve Adamyk Band plays diamond rock—it’s all cut, carats, and clarity. It’s the thing that does the smashing, not the smashed thing. That’s a world of difference. If John Peel were still alive, he may have thought twice about putting an Undertones song title on his headstone. (If punks can’t blaspheme, who can?) –todd (Hosehead)

We M●ve: 12”
The don’t-give-a-fuck attitude represented in Spokenest’s lyrics is nothing if not a wonderful antithesis to the supertight, “funk as punk” crafting of their music. Daryl plays jangly riffs circa 1990s Washington D.C., and Adrian is easily my new favorite drummer, all over the fucking place with a chaos and grace reminiscent of Keith Moon. I was turned on to their previous project, God Equals Genocide, just as they were downsizing by thirty-three percent and reforming as Spokenest. I remember putting on their Rattled Minds LP and thinking, “Shit! I wish I could form a band and open for these kids.” Sadly, I missed that window. I am just grateful that Spokenest is around, carrying it on and carrying it as well as they are. –John Mule (Self-released, spokenest.bandcamp.com)

Pure Vanity: Cassette
The first thing that can be said about South Carey is that they really love their city and their scene. This is apparent both from their name (a major street in Baltimore), and from their lyrics. In addition to reflecting Baltimore pride, South Carey’s lyrics tackle perennial punk themes, with a bit of self-deprecating humor thrown in the mix. To my ears there are a variety of influences colliding together to form South Carey’s sound. Every song is catchy, with strong hooks, and a polished but still DIY sound. After repeated listens I can’t help but feeling a very strong ‘90s vibe from this. I imagine South Carey would have fit right in on a Punk-O-Rama, or other ‘90s-era compilation, had they been around at the time. I mean this as a high form of praise, as compilations were what first introduced me to punk. Pure Vanity features great cover art by Matt Taylor (Old Lines vocalist) which fits the vibe perfectly. I can sum up South Carey in their own words, from the Pure Vanity. “Make art for art’s sake.” Word to that. –Paul J. Comeau (Burn Fast Burn Bright)

No Hard Feelings: CD
I’ve known Sorry State’s vocalist Dave since the late ‘80s, when our respective bands were kicking up dust at assorted Eastside backyard punk shows. Dude has a long history of involvement in the L.A. punk scene—as singer of Last Round Up, he has shared a stage with danged near every band you can think of, and would occasionally pop up in the weirdest places (like the time I turned on the TV and caught him and bassist “Cyco” Mike Avilez (now of Bay Area punk institutions Retching Red, Strung Up and, of course, Oppressed Logic) guesting on The Wally George Show), not to mention his stint in the much-missed powerhouse band Media Blitz (not to be confused with that pack of San Fernando Valley new-Jacks using the name in recent years). By the sounds of this, his latest band, Dave remains as cantankerous as ever. He and his current cabal of sonic terrorists dish up twenty-seven tracks of no frills, pit-inducing hardcore here, keeping the songs tight, trimmed of excess fat, and appropriately aggressive as they gang-chorus through tunes about Gardena girls, life’s assorted pitfalls, and being loaded during the holidays. Coming on with the velocity of a locomotive, yet smart enough not to take themselves too fuggin’ seriously, these cats dish up a disc’s worth of stagediving hell-raising sure to work fans of hardcore into a froth. Tip my hat to you ‘n’ the boys, Dave; this is some fine work. –jimmy (Malt Soda)

Ajatus Karkaa : LP
First off, album covers rarely exemplify what’s to be heard on the vinyl. This is sure as shit not the case with Sokea Piste. The cover is a mishmash hallucination of watercolors, sinewy lines, and strange alien mathematics whereby expanded eyeballs seem to bleed black into a black hole. Somehow, Ajatus Karkaa sounds exactly like that. It is abrasive, controlled noise like Drive Like Jehu if they were Finnish. It would be an oxymoron to describe any of the songs as memorable, as they are performed with terse derangement like a preteen hopped up on Adderall, but the album as a whole leaves quite the impression. The LP comes with both the original Finnish lyrics as well as an English translation, which is a major plus. –Sean Arenas (Peterwalkee, peterwalkeerecords@gmail.com)

21st Century Loser: CD
Unfortunately, when one throws around phrases like “Irish punk” or “Celtic punk,” images of the Dropkick Murphys usually spring to mind. While I like the Murphys as much as anyone else, realistically, they play street punk with bagpipes. Sir Reg are what I would call true Irish punk in that they play Irish music at hardcore tempos. The mandolins and fiddles have center stage in this and it’s fucking great—I sometimes forget how much I love Irish melodies, and when they’re played like the fiddlers are on amphetamines it’s even better. Imagine the reckless abandon of early-era Pogues combined with the gentler poetic sensibilities of that band’s later incarnations. Awesome. –The Lord Kveldulfr (Heptown)

King of Dirt: LP
In what very might well be the grindcore album of the year from a band that may or may not even consider themselves a grind band, Sick/Tired have solidified themselves as legitimate contenders in a genre that has been left with a large void, due to the absence of heavy hitters and impact-makers such as Insect Warfare. It’s sad to say, but I’ve almost become desensitized to blast beats. Often, they’re meaningless and trite, showboat-y displays of lack of actual talent. But don’t fucking kid yourselves, folks; not all extreme music sounds the same. A large part of it, however, does end up sounding quite redundant and stagnant that it can be easy to dismiss it as “just a bunch of idiots playing as fast as they can.” Sick/Tired, however, have more than an earful in objection to that misconceived notion. Not since the aforementioned Insect Warfare have I been able to simply shut my eyes and smile to the delight of jackhammer drum wallops, earplug-melting bass cab rattling, and tree shredder jammed full of rusty buzzsaws-like guitar shredding. From Enslavement to Obliteration, Anticapital, The Inalienable Dreamless, World Extermination, and now King of Dirt: add another to the list of grindcore classics. –Juan Espinosa (Cowabunga)

Split: 7’’ EP
Shark Pact is two members of Hail Seizures!, one on drums and one on synthesizer. These two have a couple of the most moving and emotive voices in punk right now and their passion just pours off the record. I’ve been following Olympia punk pretty closely these days and it’s partly a result of what these two have been contributing to its sound. I had been playing Shark Pact’s last album a lot before getting this 7” to review and I wasn’t disappointed. I love the darkness of their lyrics that are confrontational to the head-in-the-sand positivity of their liberal arts town. They’re unafraid to deal with real depression and despair. Their sound is odd. It isn’t pop new wave, nor is it noisy like Nervous Gender or the punk-without-guitars sound of a band like The Screamers. It’s kind of like if the band Europe were dirty punk with crashing, grandiose keyboards, vigorous shouting and fervent, angry, drumming. It’s not catchy. It takes some time to digest. At first, it might seem like a dis to compare them to Europe, but think about it... a punk-as-fuck Europe? C’mon, you’re curious. Sometimes I spin the Custody Battle side and sometimes I don’t. I’m definitely not as enthusiastic about them, but there’s nothing wrong with their three songs of drunken, filthy punk or their despondent, hungry lyrics. They sound like one of those short-lived Chattanooga bands that slipped through the cracks and that’s fine with me. –Craven Rock (Ditches, sharkpact@yahoo.com)

Evil Death: LP
Ready to feel kind of icky? Check out these lyrics: “Rip it! Wear the flesh! Climb inside you! Become one! See through your eyes when I cum!” That’s from the song “Buffalo Bill,” inspired by Silence of the Lambs. Those aren’t even the most fucked up lyrics on this record. It gets much worse when they get into the songs about John Wayne Gacy and Jeffrey Dahmer. This sickness is set to choked-out vocals over thrashy hardcore. Don’t be surprised if you find yourself headbanging and vomiting simultaneously as you listen. –mp (Blind Spot)

Upward Hostility: LP
An unbelievable alliance of international hardcore powers (a Yankee, a Swede, and three Englishmen walk into a bar…) yields some ragingly brutal hardcore punk. The influences are quite obviously that of classic American staples (Negative Approach, SSD, Cro-Mags) but there is also a hint of later-period Voorhees belligerence staring you right in the eyes. Try as many may, few can succeed in delivering a full-length’s worth of pure hardcore delight such as Sectarian Violence effortlessly do with repeated blunt force blows to the heads of timid hardcore wusses. I listened to this over and over and kept looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was going to sucker punch me in the neck. Not recommended for Touché Amoré fans: get da fuck outta here with that shit! –Juan Espinosa (Grave Mistake, sectarianviolence@gmail.com)

Stay Afloat: LP
In 2013, it’s become disarmingly clear that “beard punk for the conveniently jaded” has become a punk subgenre. Do not make the mistake of lumping Rumspringer in with such hosers. Sophomore full-lengths are fraught with danger, especially after your first record was Empty Towers, a record that has been played at Razorcake HQ hundreds of times. Stay Afloat covers two main expectations. First, it sounds unmistakably Rumpsringer—bright music tones and heavy emotional shading in the lyrics. Shit, Stay Afloat’s a veritable barometer of music. The hydrostatic pressure caused by the weight of existential considerations palpably envelops the room when the record’s spinning and music fills the air. Invisible but omnipresent. The second challenge bested is that dreaded conversion from initial expectation and promise as a band to maturation (without being boring or pretentious). Stay Afloat is a brave record with exquisitely pretty parts. The music Wes, Mikey, and Matt crafted takes its time to inhale deep breaths and calm down. There’s more space on Stay Afloat than in Empty Towers. It’s also an explicitly anti-slacker, anti-insta-jaded record. (Three quick lyrical examples: “I don’t want to be bored forever.” “You can stay afloat or stay in bed.” “…somewhere between acknowledgement and giving a damn.”) As a result, it’s a profoundly questioning record, one that I’ll be spinning for years to come. Here’s to the curse of the quiet beauty of Arizona sunsets setting the tone of a record... and DIY punks making some of the best music on the planet. –todd (Dirt Cult, dirtcult.com)

Blank Language: LP

Some uneasy listening here—lotsa racket-making, varying tempos from thrashy to more brooding, screaming, and a dense, almost inaccessible delivery. Soundtrack to yer next migraine.

–jimmy (Adagio 830, adagio830.de)

Apathy Is an Institution: LP
I luckily dragged myself out of my home coma to catch Rubrics touring through Alabama with Burning Bridges last year. Their show was in a short-lived storage warehouse where they played to about fifteen kids and one creeper old guy (me). I’ve been looking out for this full length to be released with only a split 7” to tide me over, but the LP has been worth the wait. Rubrics blast out an exuberant noise that would have sat well on a Very Small comp (somewhere between Econochrist and 23 More Minutes would have been good) and keep their lyrics on the ideological Fifteen side of things. You may agree on many, but not all (the song out child immunization sticks out for me) the stances Rubrics have decided to take up, but there’s enough energy, passion, and thought behind them that you’ll applaud them for doing so. Grab one of these up and get moving. –Matt Seward (Lost Cat, lostcatrecords.org)

Terminal Hangover: CD
Just going off the band’s name, photo, song titles, and packaging ((Zapf Chancery! Comic Sans! Myspace!)), i assumed that this was going to be a bunch of incompetent slobs playing beer punk for their ten friends and weird girlfriends. Oddly, it’s nothing of the sort—it’s actually a quite competent mish-mosh of Bay Area style ska-punk and Chicago style pop punk, with breakdowns and a twangy bass and a guy who probably doesn’t want to be told he occasionally sings like Billie Joe occasionally singing like Billie Joe. I suppose a couple of these songs could be on the radio, if they still play songs on the radio. I’m not crazy about this, but i do give them credit for not appealing to me in completely different ways than in the ways in which i had initially assumed they would not appeal to me. BEST SONG: “Make It Bleed” BEST SONG TITLE: “Sloppy Joel” FANTASTIC AMAZING TRIVIA FACT: I honestly do not remember the last time i saw Zapf Chancery used to typeset a link to a band’s MySpace page. –norb (1332, 1332records.com)

Riley Versus Jason in the Battle of Gracious Living: LP
Sincerity is difficult to measure, but, when it is heard, it’s a statement more powerful than any back patch, denim jacket, or neon pink mohawk. Chris Gordon, aided only by his acoustic guitar, oozes earnestness on every track of his first full length—appropriately released by Plan-It-X. The album was wisely recorded in one sitting and the raw urgency of each song is driven by Gordon’s spastic and melodic voice that is often painfully sympathetic. It would be an oversimplification to call it folk punk—as he never dabbles in gruff Tom Gabel impersonations, and it’d be too easy to compare him to other Plan-It-X songwriters like Paul Baribeau or Chris Clavin—because Gordon possesses a wide range of vocal hooks. Furthermore, Gordon’s lyrics aren’t ambiguous or riddled with cryptic metaphors. Given that he resides in sunny and conservative Yorba Linda, CA, the songs are all rooted in a sense of place. He is critical of his hometown and of how he has spent his time in the Land of Gracious Living. Gordon sings about Yorba Linda being the birthplace of Richard Milhous Nixon, the home of a million damn Mormons, and a place of complacent, wealthy youth, yet it is also the location of an admirable group of friends and musicians. The album is as much a personal history as it is a testament to a cardinal principle: Even if your hometown is a hellhole, it doesn’t mean you have to become an asshole. Chris Gordon is living proof of punk perseverance overcoming ignorant adversity. The LP includes a zine that provides an extensive history of Roman Candles and lyric explanations. –Sean Arenas (Plan-It-X, planitxrecords@gmail.com, plan-it-x.com)

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