Friday, June 05, 2009

Dirty Black Psummer


We’ve talked about Chicago’s Cave here before and since they’ve released a heavy new album Psychic Psummer let’s speak of them again.

As befits the title Psychic Psummer is a lighter record than last years Hunt Like Devil, still monomaniacal in chasing a single chord down the rabbit hole but airier and less in thrall to a basement-dwelling caveman ughthetic. If the first albums jams suggested an aircraft in a holding pattern over a decaying industrial city at dusk, this time it’s over green and yellow fields of crops at dawn.

I still bet if you met the band in person they’d smell of sour bongwater and too many roll-up cigarettes though.

Cave – Requiem for John Sex [ysi]

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I’m guessing this might be the guy they’re jamming about:

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Thursday, June 04, 2009

Wires of Our Nerves


A lot of the new ugh-fi, bathed in reverb ‘shit-gaze’ bands fail for the same reasons that their predecessors did; the murk isn’t that murky and even when it is the hooks aren’t razor-sharp enough to cut through. And I realise that Crystal Stilts, Vivien Girls et al see some sort of correlation between Spector’s Wall of Sound and their own Wall of Shit but really, can we let the Ronettes drum-patterns and girl group sprecht-song drop? Face it: The Jesus and Mary Chain were always weak sauce.

All of which is a really tangential way of saying that I wish “Living Wage” by Richmond, Virginia’s Nerve City was recorded loud because under the boombox aesthetic it’s one of the catchiest, play-ten-times-in-a-row garage rock jams I’ve heard in years. The fact it bears a title that makes it sound like some lost Thatcher-era anarcho-punk track only makes it more endearing.

Nerve City – Living Wage [ysi]

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