The Upallnights

In this time of political posturing and ramblin’ rhetoric I’ve found someone with whom I can agree: Introducing The Upallnights, who have proposed the following plan for potential supporters: “Let’s go to the airport and catch a random flight…Let’s got to where the governments don’t lie and everything you eat tastes like blueberry pie.” If they’re including a scoop of vanilla bean ice-cream in the deal, count me in! The Upallnights are nothing more than four unassuming lads from Stockholm armed with guitars, drums, blasting out jangly punk pop bullets that will keep your feet dancing. The cover of their new EP, Factory Sessions, should give you an idea of the band’s modus operandi. If you’re unfamiliar with the concept of young boys with light sabers, let me tell you they mean business. Stay out of their way, cuz they, um, just wanna have fun.

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Girl Talk

At the risk of revealing myself as A) behind the times, and B) a complete tool, I’m going to share that I’ve recently gotten back into heavy exercise. At the gym, I usually listen to (here’s where the “complete tool” part comes in) This American Life or some other talky podcast where I don’t have to worry about (tool again) consistently high-energy beats. But praise be to Pittsburgh’s Greg Gillis, whose Night Ripper from 2006 is a (the behind the times part) mashup masterpiece that (tool) keeps my adrenaline PUMPED, man! For my money, Z-Trip is still the high-water mark of such guerrilla hip-hop-classic-rock-punk-pop-whatever mixing, but what Gillis does with the riffs from The Pixies, the Strokes and Weezer in “Hold Up” helps me burn 500 calories in two minutes. Girl Talk’s newest, Feed the Animals, is available here for whatever price you want to pay, which I’ve already done so that I can take my workout to anotha level of behind-the-times toolness. Join me and feel the burn!

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Cafeteria Dance Fever

The summer may have just begun, officially, but it’s that time of the year: the late June music funk. Funk not as in George Clinton funk, but funk as in I just can’t find anything I want to listen to. The Gossip‘s That’s Not What I Heard and Slumberland Records’ podcasts have been the only things keeping me going. But what better to get me outta this funk than a bunch of noise. This Portland quartet makes a mighty racket with their screwy punk rock screaming and pounding. These tracks may be a few years old, but they work.

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E.S.L.

Although the shuffling Gypsy cabaret of “Prove Me Wrong” may not sound like either rock or punk (or folk, for that matter — genre categories can be so imprecise) a trip through E.S.L.’s full length album Eye Contact will offer up all that and more. A rollicking Polish love song (sung po polsku), experimental strings and craziness, rock, Beastie Boys, Neil Young and Velvet Undergraound covers — this all-girl Vancouver quartet’s got it. You know, today is my birthday; maybe they’ll play at my party.

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O’Death

And here comes another one from the department of better late than never… I think for a long time I was resistant to listening to O’Death because, well, from my brown girl New Yorker perspective “Appalachia Punk” seemed a little far flung. Well, this week is a time for changes and a week for realizing that we are all ready to stop thinking inside our little boxes. I bought a message t-shirt that says “Obama Mama”, I signed on to O’Death’s frenetic mixing of seemingly discordant genres. Times are a-changing. But really in the end, labels mean nothing. This twanging and yelling and somber tone really just throws me back to the good old Tom Waits days. And we liked them days. Three cheers to the Tie Fighter and his fantastic quinoa-making roommate for making me see the O’Death light.

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Meho Plaza

Each dose of Meho Plaza’s quirky, hooky electro-punk takes care of business, then bolts—leaving you craving more. I’d hardly call it minimalist, only that each musical element is used cunningly and sparingly. If there is an imbalance worth noting, it’s that Mike Thrasher’s lyrics take a back seat while the Moog gets its own dressing room—but it’s all for the good. From what I’ve read, their live show’s even better than the recorded version, and quite different. Alas, I’ll never know firsthand until they get enough funding to tour beyond of their SoCal homebase…so buy this record (available on iTunes), if only for me and everyone else east of the Pacific Time Zone.

P.S. Whew, I made it to the end of the post without referencing Wire… Oops!

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The Loved Ones

Sometimes I like to look for songs that include the names of my kids. One of my daughter’s favorites is by Raffi. You know, whatever. I got a hit with The Loved Ones (nice, appropriate), and hey look, they’re even on 3hive! I figured I’d update Sean’s post from ’05 with another free download, “Suture Self,” and let everybody know that a new album’s coming out in February. Rock on.

Suture Self [MP3, 2.8MB, 128kbps]

Sean’s original post: 03/22/05
I know we’re late on this, but if you haven’t done so already, raid the SXSW site for a shload of MP3s (hit the day, then artist links) before they’re pulled. When in Texas, eat like a Texan. So, off to the The Salt Lick for slabs of heaven on earth. After demolishing three rounds of smoked ambrosia, my BBQ buddies dropped me off on Red River Street where I could hear The Loved Ones blasting their brand of stripped down, punk ‘n’ roll for all the world to hear. I scrambled my way up to the front of the stage for their raucous set, fueled by the bottled-up energy of their twenty-seven hour road trip to make the show. Me? I was fueled by brisket. Culinary and musical highlights coming together like magic.

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New Grenada

We’ll go Detroit local for today’s post, and check out New Grenada’s punky rock riffs and rips, boops and bips, toy instruments and just about anything else they dig out of the closet. Like a lot of awesome indie rock outfits, John Nelson, Nicole Allie and Dave Melkonian seem to make a lot more sound than you’d expect from so few people. With three LPs and a handful of 7″ and other recordings to their credit, New Grenada seem to be about to hit the sweet spot (even if their photo suggests they’re survivng solely on the kindliness of others). Check out their latest tracks — “Emergency Brigade” and “Meat is Murdermobile,” from the 2006 release Modern Problems — for a sense of their sonic range.

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Jawbox

You’ll have to forgive us if we geek out a bit on Dischord bands. It’s more than slightly embarrassing that we’ve been running on at the mouth for over three-and-a-half years without featuring a Dischord artist (hats off to Clay for pointing this out and diggin’ up the goods). For this bunch of music geeks the seminal, super-duper DIY label has had a huge influence on the projects we’ve worked on together over the years (AM 960 The S.U.N., Sonic Garden CD Exchange, and Grid Magazine—and no you haven’t heard of any of these unless you were in college with us a good decade ago in a strange little corner of the country). I will forever associate Jawbox with our takeover of an AM signal, housed in a little shack in the middle of a cow pasture, tucked under the shadows of the Rocky Mountains. These tracks were in heavy rotation for the nine months or so we were on cloud nine, amazed we’d finagled our way into running a radio station. While the members of Jawbox have moved on to other projects and stages of life, Dischord continues its inspiring aesthetic.

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The Radishes

I never pegged myself as a sucker for reminiscing about some bygone era of youthful indiscretions set to a soundtrack so loud that it did permanent hearing damage. Then again, I never figured that the moment I had a child, my life before that moment would become an abstraction only referential as fragmented memories and out-of-body mental snapshots. I hope that doesn’t sound too wistful because there’s nothing better than being a parent, but on our first “official” family road trip this past week there were a couple of moments when I’d just about gotten my fill of baby-friendly playlists and was ready for a quick mental cleanse of the kind that The Radishes are fond of administering. Y’know, the kind with simple riffs repeated fast and loud, driving bass and drums (provided by the former rhythm section for Ministry!), and acidic vocals that scream alienation, anger, and irony. Alas, when the baby is sleeping in the back seat and your wife has taken the reins of the iPod, you don’t always get that instant aural gratification. But when you’re home early on a Friday morning and the rest of the family is asleep behind closed doors, you can put on the headphones, turn it up all the way and get a good dose of noise, sweet noise.

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