Ivy, who sings for ATB, has a wonderful set of pipes. She’s clear, loud, and can hold a note. The fact that she’s fronting a dirty DIY punk band makes these proceedings mighty fine. This’ll probably help about fifteen people out, but ATB sounds like Seaweed (nice and sinewy. The songs breathe and aren’t claustrophobic) coupled with the occasional fun but sad motivation of Bitchin’. Songs range from the joy of riding a train to the sorrow of being a product of a foster home (“Fuck You Motherfucker”). Iggy Scam (author of the great zine, Scam) not only plays guitar but writes an informative essay on a pack of spray-painting, beer-drinking punks and some things to remember when fingered by The Man as a group. Skip laundry for a couple days and send your two dollars to ‘em. You won’t be sorry.
–todd ($2 ppd., Half-Day)