January 2007 - Earache Hotel

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Earache Hotel - January 2007

THE LOBBY: ALBUMS OF THE WEEK

January 30th 2007 12:50

There’s been some renovations a-happenin’ here at the Earache Hotel. One is our fully refurbished lobby with several moderately priced velvet paintings of yours truly, as well as a generic-brand, portable CD player which is bolted to the reception desk so you bastards can’t steal it.

Every week here in the lobby, I will be telling y’all which three albums I’ve been spinning the most on said portable CD player. You won’t be able to hear them or anything, but you will know what I’ve been rockin’ out to each week, which will give you some insight into my life. This insight will then bring you enlightenment and untold happiness, or my name isn’t Hellvis Aaaron Presley (the extra A is for asshole).

As an extra special bonus, you, my guests, will be able to pick one of these three albums, which I will then review especially for you. Just post a comment with your pick and I will tally them up. If no votes are tallied, I will hang myself with dental floss. So please, I beseech you: VOTE! Here are this week’s three:

1) for the money…

McLuskyism (2006)

McLusky:
McLuskyism
(2006; Too Pure/Beggars)
This 3-CD collection of singles, b-sides, rarities, and live material is a bitchin’ introduction to this sadly missed band from Wales. With a pop sensibility like the Pixies but filtered through the finest noise-rock of bands like the Jesus Lizard, Big Black, and Fugazi, and with hilarious lyrics often screeched or intoned with funny voices, these guys deserved to be the new Nirvana (but without the shotgun suicides, mentally ill widows, and the Foo Fighters; no one deserves that).

2) for the show…

Suspended Animation (2005)

Fantomas:
Suspended Animation
(2005; Ipecac)
Do you like cartoon soundtracks? Do you like metal? Do you like opera? If the answer to all three questions is a hearty ‘hell yes!’, then this album is for you. This schizo, avant-metal supergroup includes Mike Patton (Faith No More, Mr Bungle, Tomahawk), Buzz Osbourne (Melvins), Trevor Dunn (Mr Bungle, Secret Chiefs Three), and Dave Lombardo (Slayer). A concept album dedicated to the month of April, Suspended Animation is good music for clearing parties when everyone is too drunk to go home.

3) to get ready…

Humans Find Patterns (2006)

Turnpike:
Humans Find Patterns...
(2006; Medical)
I’ve been trying to review this for a long time, but it’s so good it’s affecting my judgement. This Brisbane band have been peddling an indie sound based on interesting guitar interplay for ages now: peddling because effects pedals are an integral part of their setup, not bicycles. But this is the album that sees them truly finding their own groove, with raw and clanging freakouts, off-kilter but melodic structures, and feedback, feedback, feedback. Humans Find Patterns... is the new punk rock.

Now go, cat, go!

***

IMAGES

McLuskyism
Suspended Animation
Humans Find Patterns...
(album covers used under fair dealing)

* images on this page were taken from the following Wikipedia and Dispatch Operator pages:

McLuskyism
Suspended Animation
Turnpike

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Posted By: Hellvis - Category: The Lobby

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JON SPENCER BLUES EXPLOSION: DANG (VIDEO)

January 23rd 2007 13:00

WARNING: THIS VIDEO CONTAINS THE WORD ‘MOTHERFUCKER’ AS DOES THIS WARNING, BUT IT’S A BIT LATE TO WORRY ABOUT THAT NOW ISN’T IT?

Thankyaverymuch ladies 'n' gentlemen right now I gotta tell ya 'bout, the fabulous, most grooovey, Blues Explosion (Ugh!), Blues Explosion (Ugh!), Yayah! (Ugh!).

Sorry ‘bout that intro ladies ‘n’ gentlemen, but the Blues Explosion were one of my favourite bands right up until they recorded the genre-defying, cut ‘n’ paste extravaganza Acme (1998), after which things began to go downhill like an unattended baby carriage. Back then, all their songs were about their favourite thing in the world. And do ya know what that thing was ladies ‘n’ gentlemen? That’s right: THE BLUES EXPLOSION. Once they stopped believing in themselves and tried to write tunes about stuff other than themselves, they lost a tiny bit of their souls.

But, after dissin’ on the JSBX in my Yeah Yeah Yeahs review I thought it right and proper for me to share with you one of my favourite videos of there’s, cuz I still hold a special ‘n’ dear place in my heart for their gritty, organic gumbo of blooze punk mixed with flourishes of hip hop, soul, rockabilly, white noise, funk, and a whole heap of other cool-ass shit. They fit somewhere alongside Beck and the Beastie Boys, but with more of a down ‘n’ dirty, primal vibe that I personally love. Also, they have the greatest frontman since Elvis, James Brown, and Mick Jagger combined. But enough hyperbole. Here’s the video:

”Dang” video from the album Orange (1994)

Orange (1994)

The song itself is one of the weirder, noisier cuts from their excellent album Orange, and doesn’t actually seem to be about the Blues Explosion as such, but it's not like it's really about anything at all, so it doesn’t matter. It’s got a repetitive li’l southern-fried guitar line, crazy distorted harmonica, wailin’ theremin, and Jon Spencer’s 1950s whoopin' 'n' hollerin' that gives way to tinny screaming. This kind of thing is what the Earache Hotel is all about.

I love low budget videos that look like the band have just spent a weekend with a handycam, got real liquored up, and had a whole lotta fun. This is one of those, with Spencer in a silver suit, flying saucers that look like they’re straight outta Plan 9 From Outer Space, the most evil alfoil-clad alien attacker with pointy boobs since Madonna, one of the greatest teleportation effects in the history of cinema, and Vishnu. You’ve gotta have Vishnu.

***

IMAGES

Orange*
(album cover used under fair dealing)

*images on this page were taken from the following Wikipedia page

Orange

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Posted By: Hellvis - Category: Videos

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FROU-FROU FOXES: FROU-FROU FOXES (REVIEW)

January 20th 2007 08:00

FROU-FROU FOXES
FROU-FROU FOXES
(2006; HANDCLAPPIN’)

RATING:

TRACK LISTING: 1) Just Like Little Dogs / 2) Duck Rabbit Problem / 3) Batzzzzzzzzz / 4) Werewolf From Japan / 5) Where The Shit’s The Aircon? / 6) Face On The Carpet / 7) Please Don’t Kick My Baby / 8) Lollipop Party / 9) 34

Frou-Frou Foxes (2006)

Like a lot of bands popping up in the Brisbane indie scene of late, the Frou-Frou Foxes have an arty noise-punk sound that I must say is very dear to my blackened heart. ‘Where were these bands when I was a young-un?’ I ask to nobody in particular while I sit in this disgraceland that I call the Earache Hotel because the domain name disgraceland was already taken. The answer is probably either swingin' perilously in bounce-inets or swimming around in their daddies' balls.

The Frou-Frous may just be the youngest of the bunch, and are far fuckin cooler than I ever was at their age. This self-titled debut EP, produced by the Devereaux's Steven Smith, puts their post-punk and indie influences into practice with an absurdist sense of humour and snotty attitude that betrays both their youth and their love of those perennial pranksters the Melvins. Their songs brew with Duncan Evans’s nervous, primal drum rolls; Dalton Batt’s fuzzy rumbling bass; and Andrew Ford’s high-pitched dissonant guitar—all capped off with vocals that are generally shouted, screamed, or screeched by all three members. But it’s less uppity angriness that seems to drive these guys to such severe and urgent sounds than it is the confusion and exuberance of precocious youth. The Frou-Frous delight in being misunderstood, smartass kids. As they themselves screech on "34": 'we are not your favourite children.'

Batt's deep fuzzy bass (or what the band describe as 'sonically confusing guitar') surges and blurts farty sounds that carry most of these tunes with melodic acumen and is placed way up in the mix while the guitar either ejaculates tinny, distorted noise (“Just Like Little Dogs”, “Duck Rabbit Problem”) or jams on some swampy surf riffs that remind me of the Scientists or the Cramps (“Werewolf From Japan, “Where The Shit’s The Aircon?”). Their attack is pretty frenzied and unrelenting, especially on the insane, heavy thrashiness of “34”, although exceptions do exist. One of these is “Face On The Carpet”: a slow burning tune which alternates between washes of oceanic noise guitar and some lovely, jangly shoegazer passages, until all is consumed by their own fiery intensity just like Elvis's demonic twin was back in 1982.

Then there’s the hidden track, an acid-damaged mess of spacey guitars, aimless percussion, and a confusing story about a private detective named Henry who also happens to be a penguin, and his search for a psychopathic polar bear named Frank. Henry’s investigation is marred not only by the fact that the murder weapon is an icepick that melted without a trace, but also because of the random appearance of alien motherships, Little Red Riding Hood, Captain Nemo (or is that EMO?), and an impromptu cover of Syd Barrett’s “Golden Hair”: a reference that makes the album's recipe of playful, childlike lyrics set to intuitive, ear-bleedin' noise suddenly make a whole lotta sense. I can’t decide whether this is the worst or best track on the album, because while it is frustratingly hard to get a grasp on, it also sums up what’s so great about these guys. Their impertinence and refusal to take themselves too seriously make for an uneven and chaotic album, but it’s also a testament to their vivacity, creativity, and irreverent charm.

Like most teenagers, the Frou-frou Foxes delight in keeping old bastards like me guessing. Here’s hoping they’ll continue to do so.

***

LINKS

The Frou-Frou Foxes have a Myspace site. What will those crazy kids get into next?

IMAGES

Frou-Frou Foxes
(album cover used under fair dealing)

* images on this page were taken from the following MySpace page:

Frou-Frou Foxes

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Posted By: Hellvis - Category: Record Reviews

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RECORD REVIEWS INDEX

January 12th 2007 11:19

This here is the place where y’all will find the record reviews. It will be updated regularly and organised in alphabetical order, to make it easier for you and all your kin to find what you’re lookin’ for. I hope to accumulate a big-ass number of reviews for you to browse through while you stay at the Earache Hotel: reviews to teach you ‘n’ direct you towards the fiery, healin’ power of rock ‘n’ roll.

Each album is a holy document: a sacred text passed down from on high like gospel. Some will fill you with the joy of thousand summer afternoons, some will be like a shepherd to guide when you are lost, some will succor you durin’ troubled times, and some just plain suck. But while the quality of these releases may vary, each is pure ‘n’ special in its own way, and in your time of need may be there to aid you. While I have passed judgement on these albums, they will never pass judgement upon you or me (unless it’s a Dead Kennedys’ album or something; that Jello Biafra must love to keep clean cuz he's always on his soapbox

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