HOLY HELL, I am still alive!!!

Hey kids, how you all doing? Yes, I know it has been a good bit of time, but I am still here and kicking. I don’t have any good excuses for my being so damn late on doing updates here or even getting issue 4 fired up and going other than life being life and procrastination being procrastination. I’ve been looking for a fire to place under my ass to get me moving again, but sadly every time I think I find one the old procrastination comes rolling back around.

The main goal is to get these reviews caught up right now. The second goal is to get the next issue off the ground.
What exactly is issue 4 going to be all about? Well, there are two issues in the works, as to which one gets the launch will be up to the issues themselves.

Issue 4a is more like issue 2, being made up of a couple bands and interviews. Granted, these interviews are now ages old and about as relevant as interviewing me for my band Misty Beethoven, which has been dead since 1990. Well, maybe more relevant than that as all of these acts are still active, but the interviews are for their “new” albums, which came out back in the beginning / middle of 2007! Yeah, “current” is not the word I would use to sell the interviews or ‘zine. I know one of the bands is willing to re-do their interview. I’m not sure about one of the others as that one didn’t respond to a few emails. The last band that was slated for issue 4 was interviewed on tour and the interview itself was pretty bad, due to my own part. I asked a few REALLY stupid questions. O.K., I could work with a “few”…it was more like I asked a whole shitload of stupid questions.

Issue 4b is another issue along the lines of issue 3. One band, one issue. Thing is this issue will be all research and interviews with the artist being covered, as the person the issue is about is dead, so actual interviews there will be non-existent. This issue will also have a guest contributor as long as he is willing to work on it also. I know he has shown great enthusiasm for it, but as is the case when anybody goes to work with me, that enthusiasm can be short-lived. But we shall see.

So meanwhile we chase down some reviews. I am going to try and do a review a day at the least. As I look over the stack though, my heart drops. I guess I finally have to face it, there is some BAD shit in here I really don’t wish to talk about. In all honesty, that has been a problem I have been facing. I don’t care to rip into stuff, but some of this you just can’t find anything nice to write about it. Or it is just boring as can be.

Welp, lets all hold on and see what happens here. Can I pull off a bunch of reviews???????????
As is usual, if you have sent something in for review, I apologize about my delays. I am not trying to screw ya over, it’s just sometimes inspiration is fleeting and when certain aspects of life are a bitch, it’s that much tougher.

Rock on kids,
Carl

The Atomic Bitchwax – 4

What we have with 4 is what is known in the entertainment industry as sustained upward momentum. Three years since proving with their album 3 that they didn’t need no stinkin’ side project badge (originally pinned on due to the presence of Monster Magnet picker Ed Mundell, since replaced by ex-Core leader Finn Ryan) to justify their existence, the Atomic Bitchwax manages to best their own best effort. Ryan, new drummer Bob Pantella and bassist/keyboardist/driving force Chris Kosnik don’t exactly redefine power rock here, but their combination of bonghit boogie and Motor City madness has never been so graceful, so ribcage-grabbing, so frickin’ potent. As usual in these cases, credit sharper songwriting and arrangements; singalong melodies float out of the trio’s knotty instrumental attack, and Kosnik and Ryan’s mic mangling has never been so mightily musical. Ripsnorting ragers like “Sometime Wednesday,” “Daisy Chain” and “Run” rock like a Transformer dancing a crazed fandango, while still sprouting catchy choruses. Instrumentals “Giant” and “Super Computer” proudly wave their braintickling riffs right in your snout. The songs are so good that the Bitchwaxing of Pink Floyd’s “Astronomy Domine,” while perfectly enjoyable, feels unnecessary. This, my friends, is what we mean when we scream “Rawk!”

(MeteorCity)
http://www.theatomicbitchwax.com
http://www.meteorcity.com

Review by: Michael Toland

Bubblegum Screw – St. Valentines Day Massacre

I have to keep checking the info on this disc to make sure I am getting this right. This is a new release, and this is not from New York or Detroit. I swear to God man, between the production, writing style, singing, everything, you could make an argument for this being a lost 1979 New York Underground band. Yeah, this would have been big at Max’s Kansas City…no doubt. There or the obvious choice of CBGB’s. Heck, this actually sounds like outtakes from We Have Come For Your Children by Dead Boys in the production department and Mark Thorn does a pretty good Stiv. These guys are from London and a further proof that you just can’t tell where a band hails from anymore.

Bubblegum screw might fool some people though, don’t go into this expecting to hear Bubblegum Pop, Punk, or Glam. There is little “Bubblegum” here. The band plays a swaggering style of ’79 Punk pretty much, with maybe a touch of the Glam in the backing vocals. Heck, song number 2 (“Feel The Pain”) even carries shades of the Dead Kennedy’s track “Government Flu” to it. This is a good thing.
 
If this thing had come out in 1979, make no mistake about it, the final track “Rock N Roll Loser” would be the anthem for many. Power, attitude, swagger, it has a lot going for it. It’s not so different from the rest of the tunes on here, but it just sticks in your head a little bit longer and has that certain something that makes a song a classic.

If you need some Trash, give the Bubblegum Screw a shot, I’ll bet ya a piece of Bazooka that you’ll be happy you did!

http://www.myspace.com/bubblegumscrew

The Hellacopters - Head Off

So Head Off is the last Hellacopters studio album. (Until the inevitable reunion, that is.) How does one of the last decade’s best rock & roll bands choose to ride off into the sunset? With, um, a covers album. Sounds like the band is breaking up because leader Nicke Andersson is bereft of ideas, don’t it?

But let’s be fair: the only ideas the Swedish quintet ever really considered was rockin’, rollin’ and rockin-and-rollin. Andersson and his buds have never been shy about borrowing tunes from the garage/punk/heavy/action rock catalog anyway – their own oeuvre is littered with cover tunes. (Hell, if you want to be uncharitable about it, most of Andersson’s originals are rewrites of Sonic Rendezvous Band’s “City Slang” anyway.) When it comes to the proverbial good rockin’ tonight, originality gets tossed in the back seat, away from energy, commitment and soul.

The ‘copters have never had any problems there, and since they know where their likeminded international compatriots keep their treasure boxes, they easily choose tunes that slide right into their setlist with no one the wiser. (Except that Andersson’s track-by-track explanation on their MySpace site gives the game away.) Borrowing from the catalogs of fellow Swedes, Australians and Americans, the band merrily makes any tune they borrow their own. It’s hard to pick highlights from such a consistently air-guitar worthy platter, but Asteroid B-612’s “I Just Don’t Know About Girls,” the Humpers’ “(I’m) Watching You,” the Peepshows’ “Midnight Angels” and the BellRays’ “Making Up For Lost Time” seem particularly suited to the ‘copters’ riff-blasting talents. Cuts nicked from Dead Moon, the Robots, “Demons” and the Royal Cream ain’t far behind.

Which points to the secret ingredient here: The Hellacopters don’t pick songs that they can mangle into their own distinctive Nordic rock & roll shape – they choose tunes that already sound like they wrote ‘em themselves. Strong selections and even stronger performances make Head Off easily the equal of any other record in the ‘copters’ collection of superlative slabs. Pat yerselves on the backs on the way out, dudes – ya done damn good.

(Wild Kingdom/Psychout)
http://www.hellacopters.com
http://myspace.com/hellacopters
blog: http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.ListAll&friendID=20187358

Review by: Michael Toland

Prima Donna - After Hours (Acetate)

Somewhere along the line “glam” became shorthand for “hairspray-addled dickweeds who think Kiss set the standard for half-assed songwriting.” Hey, man, how about those 80s? Who needs a sense of rock & roll history when cocaine and Aquanet are all that’s required to get the strippers to give you a private show and share their makeup tips?

Despite having an average age of 22 or so, the dudes in Prima Donna, shockingly, remember a time before Motley Crüe somehow became an icon. I don’t know how these kids ended up with New York Dolls and Ziggy Stardust in their collections – hip older siblings? Hip parents? Hip grandparents??? – but I ain’t arguin’. And not just the cream of the 70s glam slop – the saxophones and old-fashioned rock & roll melodies on After Hours (the quintet’s second album, following the self-released Kiss Kiss) hint at a grounding in that most forgotten of classic rock decades, the 50s (Same as Bowie and the Dolls, in fact). Riffs fly fast, furious and free, but the Primas keep the rhythms danceable in that old-fashioned, R&B-derived way that was forgotten practically the day the drum machine was invented.

Mind you, singer/main songwriter Kevin Tyler Preston is just as hormonally blitzed as those assholes from the 80s. Sex is never far from the lad’s mind, as is made clear by “Dummy Luv,” “Demoted” and “I Don’t Want You to Love Me.” But his greasy grasp on heady rock & roll hooks, his youthful yawp and the band’s obvious glee in blasting them out of the speakers goes a long way to making the horny libretto seem naughty instead of nasty. In other words, After Hours is just plain fun, with singalong songs that don’t get old before the bridge comes around. “Life moves real fast when you’re a wild youngblood,” Preston declares at one point. Exactly.

http://www.primadonnarocks.com
http://www.acetate.com

Review by: Michael Toland

The Quireboys - Homewreckers & Heartbreakers (JCPL)

I’ve always felt a little sorry for the Quireboys. In late 80s America the London combo was lumped in with the hair metal bands, for which their image seemed, at first, to fit. Never mind that the band has always had more in common with the Faces and the Rolling Stones than Poison. (The Dogs D’amour suffered a similar fate.) So it was one classic album (A Bit of What You Fancy), a lackluster follow-up, and out.

Except that wasn’t the end of the story. The band reconvened in the early aughts, knocking out two solid slabs (This is Rock ‘n’ Roll and Well Oiled) that hinted at a return to future greatness. Well, open the door and move the furniture to the walls, because Homewreckers & Heartbreakers is that return. Taking cues from singer Spike’s recent solo album It’s a Treat to Be Alive, the ‘boys swirl folk and soul into their blues-based rock & roll debauchery, with more relaxed tempos and incorporation of pedal steel, mandolin and lots of fiddle and slide guitar. Shimmering, soulful cuts like “Late Nite Saturday Call,” “Hello” and “One For the Road” display the clear influence (beyond Spike’s gravelly singing) of those classic early 70s Rod Stewart records.

Don’t get the idea, however, that the band has forgotten how to rock. “Hall of Shame,” “Josephine” and “I Love This Dirty Town” kick out the jams the Stones left behind 30 years ago, and “Blackwater” hits a heavy blues groove. The guitar wrangling by Guy Griffin and Paul Guerin is particularly fine here, but the glue holding everything together is Spike’s voice, which has never been better. There aren’t many singers who can take a clichéd line like “Keep on believin’” and keep it from sounding like a hackneyed rock Hallmark card. I hesitate to say that Homewreckers & Heartbreakers betters the youthful explosion of the group’s great debut, but the versatility, confidence and plain ol’ soul found here emphasize that even a bunch of reprobates like the Quireboys can wear maturity well.

http://www.thequireboys.com
http://www.jerkincrocus.com

Review by: Michael Toland

Suzy Wong And The Honkeys – 22

Let me start by saying that I think this thing is called 22. This is just an educated guess. The cover is a black and white cover with the band name scrawled on top and an odd painting/drawing/photo of a person who has their neck split and the blood is forming the number “22”. Not sure what the number means or anything, but what the heck, there was no press material in the envelope so it gets to be named “22”.
When the CD started to play my initial thought was “whoa…does this suck”. Seriously, the tune (“Pills”) is a noisy creature with a 1980’s 4-track tape sounding production with a female voice that jumps from screaming to a whiny type of voice. It reminded me of those terrible Punk bands from the 80’s that seriously did suck and purposely created the noise to hide their lack of talent. You know the bands, they were usually your best friends in high school and forced you to listen to them and make you lie to them about liking their tunes.
But before the first song was even done I was starting to change my mind. First thing that started that change was the realization that the drumming was actually pretty friggin’ tight. That type of thing never happened in those old bands. So I started the CD over and paid closer attention. This time I caught on to it that any noise and oddness going on was 100% deliberate. These folks were not half assed musicians, but instead they are people who actually know their instruments. Or so it seems. Could this be a band actually trying to recapture that whole 80’s vibe thing, yet doing it right? The extreme DYI of the disc would lead one to believe so, including the lack of the press materials. Plus remember the 4-Track recording? Well, the music even has drop-outs on it like the old tapes always had.
Musically make no mistake about it, this is acquired taste territory. It’s noisy, sloppy, and completely insane sounding. But that isn’t to say there are not redeeming qualities (though to some the “noisy, sloppy and completely insane sounding” is all the redemption needed). In fact there are breaks in the songs “Alcohol” and “Robot” that are such brilliant riffs and hooks that I wish they had created an entire song using that riff.
So be forewarned, this is crazy stuff indeed, but to folks with certain tastes, this is a fun band with some crazy stuff going on.

http://www.myspace.com/suzywongandthehonkeys

If nothing else, The Devil Rides Out will be getting money from me for both of the previous Volumes. Why? Well, because Volume III is the final part of a nifty cover that when placed together is a hot chick lying on her back. Oh, sure, it might just be an excuse to have a picture of a hot chick in my house…but it isn’t. I just think it’s a cool cover. Yeah.
But what about the music, swanky hot 60’s style cover chicks aside…how is the music?
The Devil Rides Out more or less are of the Stoner Rock world. Problem with saying that though is that there are numerous different facets of the genre to fit into, as is the case with damn near every genre now. So, think BIG fuzzy guitars tuned REALLY low with a growly vocal, not a Death Metal growl, but more a Punk / Crossover yell. No Ozzy impersonator with this band.
The opening track “Slow Gun” lost me right away with the out of tune sounding note run riff. In my car the whole thing sounded a bit of a mess. But later, after throwing on the headphones (and even more so after numerous other subsequent listens) I found the rest of the song to carry a fine drive to it. I’m still not crazy about the note run, but the rest of the song rocks pretty damn nice.
“Fiftyonepercent” has a killer riff on it with a great pace to it. Even with the break down section it still moves cool and doesn’t have a let up.
The only track on here I could take or leave it probably “Meet Joe Blues”, a slow Bluesy type of thing. I can see the reason for it, as the riff itself sounds pretty cool with the tone and production on the guitars, it’s just kind of a lackluster track. Now this probably shows how little I know about the style and this is probably the “signature” track.
Song 3, “The Shape Of A Heart” is standout track for me though. It’s got a killer riff, cool vocals, great pace, just a killer track all around.
I like “Volume III” enough that I am definitely interested in hearing the first two volumes, not just putting the cool cover lay-outs together. Not being a big Stoner Rock guy I can’t really tell you how it fits with the genre. But I can tell you I like it enough that the disc will more than likely find its way onto my iPod, with the exception of possibly “Meet Joe Blues”…but who knows…I might come around a bit more to that track.
Oh hell, I just listened to “Meet Joe Blues” again. O.K., the weakest aspect is the vocal track. Sorry, they just sound a little forced. But the last minute of the song with the backing vocals and slide work is pretty friggin’ great. So…yeah…it will also make the transfer to the Pod for that part.
Oh, and I don’t believe for a second this thing was really recorded in Hell. That just seems a little unrealistic. Ya know?

http://www.myspace.com/thedevilridesoutband

The Octagon – Nothing But Change

This is without a doubt one of those bands that took me by total surprise. I wasn’t expecting anything like this from looking at the cover. The name of the band, the title of the album, the look of the cover, I was expecting something along the lines of Pungent Stench or something LOUD. But nope, these guys run with clean channel guitars, cool harmonies, but still standing firmly in an old sounding “Alternative” sound. If you were a fan of the any of the bands that fell out of Minneapolis or Boston in the late 80’s or early 90’s, then you might want to check these guys out. If you are from Lawrence, Kansas and wish to find a band similar to Kill Creek, check these guys out.
The title for the album, Nothing But Change, makes it’s showing in the brilliantly executed track “The Narrow Road To Oku”. That song alone makes this CD worth its price.
Songs like the wonderfully hooky “The Cutter”, “Wally And The Gang”, and especially the high energy and ridiculously powerful “The Ten Thousand” make this album worthy of repeat listens. Mellower, more artsy numbers such as “The Awakening” break it up enough to keep you on your toes.
I love this disc, I seriously do. It keeps growing on me the more I listen to it. If you have any liking for early Soul Asylum (from the …And The Horse The Rode In On era) or early Lemonheads, check this one out. Nobody makes this style music anymore really, and hearing these guys makes me realize what a damn shame that is. No this is not Glam, this is not Rockabilly, this is not loud Punk, this is something else and it’s so very cool.

http://www.myspace.com/theoctagon

So for those able to say “la la la la” to his rep, here’s the skinny. Burzum truly was one of the best black metal acts of the period. On the first half of this collection, the drum tracks actually keep time and avoid the rhythmless chaos of so many of Vikernes’ peers, the guitars choke on their own fuzz without covering up the actual chords and riffs and the melodies evoke classic metal majesty rather than incoherent thrash. Vikernes is fond of epic song lengths – “Def Som en Gang Var” hits the 10-minute mark – but the tracks’ drive and tunefulness keep things from getting boring. The second half moves into more ambient territory (in part because Vikernes was imprisoned by that time and had limited access to instruments), with the creepy edge explored by fellow traveler Mortiis. “Gebrechichket” blazes then-new trails by interweaving heavy guitars and synthesizers to evoke moody melodies that make it a signpost for current metalgazers like Alcest and Caina. Vikernes’ lyrics are in his native tongue and delivered in the usual raspy shriek of a vampire with a stake through his scrotum, so if his viewpoints bug you (assuming they’re even addressed in the first place), they’re easy to ignore. (Unless you speak Norwegian, of course.)

For all of the author’s real and alleged philosophical extremism, the work of Burzum is surprisingly accessible for folks beyond metalheads with a penchant for the blackened. Whether that’s enough to entice the curious to overlook Vikernes’ non-musical exploits is another matter, and a personal one at that. That’s what freedom of choice is all about, ain’t it?
http://www.burzum.org
(Candlelight) http://www.candlelightrecordsusa.com

Review by: Michael Toland

*Vikernes disputes most of the labels and accusations slapped on him, but that’s not saying much; few celebrity wackjobs are as adept at using verbal diarrhea to muddy the waters of his own grave as the Count. For details from both sides of the aisle, check out his Wikipedia page, the Burzum website or the book Lords of Chaos

ORANGE SUNSHINE SUPERMAN
Suffer + Bucketful of Brains
Get Off the Phone and Drive + It’s My Turn to Speak
I Spy + Lame Duck
By day, Will Psoma is a mild-mannered audio software engineer/sound designer, but by night he becomes…Orange Sunshine Superman! (Cue fanfare.) One glance at that band name and it probably goes without saying that Psoma’s musical tastes run towards 60s psychedelia and 70s guitar pop. The music on these 45s bears that out, all big, power pop hooks and folk rock jangle. But while his musicality may be fixed on the past, his libretto sits squarely in the present. “Suffer” and its flip “Bucketful of Brains” jab elbows in the ribs of organized religion, “Get Off the Phone” and “It’s My Turn to Speak” tackle the impatient, accelerated communication of the 21st century and “I Spy” and “Lame Duck” target a certain tunnel-visioned leader of the free world. Every tune is smart, funny (in an angry way) and loaded with hooks. If Psoma’s got more like this at home, it’s time for a full-length album.
http://www.myspace.com/orangesunshinesuperman
(Four-Way) http://www.fourwayrecords.com

Review by: Michael Toland

Rosetta West - Anymore
Joseph Demagore’s never-say-die attitude manifests itself once again, as he self-releases another Rosetta West record. The group’s third disk, Anymore keeps to the RW tradition of stripped-down blues rock. That’s not code for a White Stripes rip-off, by the way; there’s little flash to be found here, and the Led Zeppelin homages are subtle and serve the songs, instead being a raison d’etre. If there’s a specific blues-based obsession in this music, it’s the rough ‘n’ raucous power blues of the Northern Mississippi area – there are more hints of RL Burnside and T-Model Ford in the grooves of “Drop the Bomb” and “Found Myself Dead” than Chicago blues or the Yardbirds. Maybe it’s just because of the affinity for that music I’ve acquired over the last few years, or maybe it’s the sublime beauty of acoustic cuts like “Oh Death” and “Darlene,” or maybe it’s just because this is Demagore’s most accomplished set of songs and sharpest set of arrangements yet, but I find myself more taken with Anymore than anything the band’s yet done.   
http://www.myspace.com/rosettawest
(self-released)

Review by: Michael Toland

Garfield’s Birthday - Let Them Eat Cake
There are two ways you can go when you’re a musician that owns a record label. You can make it a vehicle for your every musical/recorded whim, whether it’s worth hearing or not. Or you can treat it like a business, promote the music you love and eke out your own stuff whenever you have a sliver of a break in your schedule. Simon Felton, owner of Pink Hedgehog and co-leader of Garfields Birthday, follows the second path­ - he’s put out a lot of great stuff from the likes of Anton Barbeau, the Black Watch and Cheese, but at the cost of giving his own band short shrift. That’s fine, though; when he, brother Shane and drummer Adrian Payne get ‘round to finally putting out a record like “Let Them Eat Cake,” it’s all the (pardon the pun) sweeter. The album spills over with sparkling pop tunes built on chiming guitars, ear-tonguing melodies and the kind of close harmonies that seem to come only from siblings. Rock-poppers like “Mystery Boy,” “Punch & Judy Man” and “The Bastion of Teenage” bewitch with their effervescence, while the acoustic ballad “You Should Know Better By Now” is nigh irresistible. Interestingly for a pop group, the band saves its best songs for the second half of the record, making for an unusually rewarding listen.
http://www.garfieldsbirthday.com
(Pink Hedgehog) http://www.pinkhedgehog.com

Review by: Michael Toland

Ascend - Ample Fire Within
Greg Anderson can’t get enough of the drone, apparently. Besides co-leading drone metal demi-gods Sunn 0)) and running the thrum-heavy label Southern Lord, he’s formed Ascend, a side project with his old buddy Gentry Densley (who was in experimental rock band Iceburn a decade ago). To be fair, Ample Fire Within ain’t exactly Sunn 0)) II. For one thing, vocals feature far more prominently than they do in Anderson’s usual milieu, and Densley’s testosteronized Tom Waits grumble is a perfect match for the bowel-rumbling sonic wash. There’s also a barely but definitely definable jazz element in the mix, provided mostly by keyboardist/trombonist Steve Moore (the guy from Earth, not the guy from Zombi). Glacial tempos and rolling low-end riffs carry the (pardon the pun) heavy load, of course, but the little touches keep this from being another beating administered to a deceased equine.
http://www.myspace.com/ascendamountain
(Southern Lord) http://www.southernlord.com

Review by: Michael Toland

Blacklist Union - Blacklist Union
With their sleaze rock riffs, glampunk image, arena rock production and whiff of every kind of sin imaginable, Blacklist Union couldn’t come from anywhere but Hollywood. But the band doesn’t so much celebrate excess as wave goodbye to it in the rearview mirror. Union boss Tony West has survived addiction, being slimed by music industry dirtbags and the premature deaths of two women close to him (including the much-missed Bianca Butthole from Betty Blowtorch), learning experiences all. Scratch at that layer of grime and black eyeliner on West and you’ll find quite the sentimental streak, but never fear – he can pen tributes to his son (“Say Hello”) and his dead lovers (“Sixty Five Steps Away”) and still make ‘em rock. West beckons anyone with good intentions to “Come Inside” his world, but gives the finger to the “King of Fools” and various “Liars, Cheats & Thieves.” The title track both laments West’s drug-rat days and warns off the kind of folks with junkie souls. It’s not all serious business, though – West takes time out for a tongue-in-cheek (or somewhere) blowjob in “Kiss the Monkey.” Whether West is smiling or sneering, his forceful singing rides this tight-muscled tiger of glistening guitar rock with reins firmly in steady hand.
http://www.myspace.com/blacklistunion
(self-released) http://www.blacklistunion.com

Review by: Michael Toland

Review by: Michael Toland

Another year, another generous batch of plainspoken, turbocharged gems. Holdin’ Onto Trouble’s Hand is a working man’s rebel manifesto, with dispatches from an America no political party acknowledges exists. And make no mistake, kids, this is American music with a capital C (for culture, and yes, we do have one) – notes, chords and rhythms derived from the blues, country & western, folk music and 50s rock & roll, made by disciples of Chuck Berry, Hank Williams, Woody Guthrie, Ike Turner and the Ramones. If the Rolling Stones had grown up in the country from which their musical loves came and had never touched supermodels or heroin, their music might still have the power the Rankoutsiders’ does now. Only Jason & the Scorchers have ever danced this rootspunk two-stomp with as much grace.

Todd’s songwriting continues its consistency and variety here, exploring the inner workings of the blue (collar, state, mood, heart) as well as anybody this side of Merle Haggard. “If you find some kind of love,” Todd advises on “One More Tank of Gas,” “Hold onto it/Give me one more tank of gas/And I’ll chase after it” - the Todd philosophy in a nutshell. The band, particularly guitarist Nick Alexander (who joins Cowgirls axmen Michael Leigh and DD Weekday in Todd’s pantheon of great six-string discoveries), confidently follows the leader down any path, taken or not.

You want revved-up C&W? Try “Sometimes Trouble Has a Name.” You like the tear dropping into your beer to be quieter? There’s the mandolin-driven “Tonight I Said Your Name.” Think the Beach Boys needed a punk shot in the ass? Give “Long Love Letter” (written by Todd but sung by Alexander – see, it really is a band) a shot. Prefer folk troubadourism? The calmly sneering “King of Drugs,” performed by Todd solo on a banjo, or the head-shaking-sadly accusation of “Playin’ in the Dirt” are your meat. Like a little spritz of power pop melodicism? You’ll take a trip “All Around the World.” Want a good, empathic wallow? The folk-rocking introspection of “There’s Nothin’ For Me Here” is da man. Looking for a raging roots rock epic? The eight-plus minutes of “The December 12th Blues” will scratch your itch.

Or would you rather just rock the fuck out, while keeping a little class in your air guitar-waving thrills? That’s most of this incendiary album, baby – “Where the Sidewalk Ends,” “Dangerous Times – Dead Ahead,” “Secret Heart,” “Billion Dollars Cash,” “I Won’t Belong” (Todd’s mantra for 25+ years now), “Theda” and the title track will dropkick any Hot Topic sprat’s Avenged Sevenfold-loving ass back to school where he can learn about real rock & roll. With guts, brains and passion to spare, Todd and the Rankoutsiders accomplish it all while acting like adults, not like kids still young, dumb and full of…well, you know. If more albums like this are what Holdin’ Onto Trouble’s Hand gets us, I’m gonna keep my paw out constantly and shake on it every time.
http://www.pattodd.net
http://www.rankoutsiderrecords.com

Review by: Michael Toland

Review by: Michael Toland

Review by: Michael Toland

Review by: Michael Toland

Frontdude Derek Cristensen wails, growls and shouts like Steven Tyler could before MTVhab, as guitarists Curt Florczak and Matt Lake mix ‘n’ match riffs stolen from their favorite records and the rhythm section juggles its balls with the surefooted grace of a stampeding stallion. With just the right homebrew of proficiency and ‘tude, the title track gives corporate radio the bird while boasting the kind of guitar glory the airwaves used to worship. Cristensen musters a surprising scoop of soul on the ballad “Cold After Dark,” putting enough heartbreak into lines like “Your love will haunt me until the end” that the clichés matter less than the feel.

Not everything cooks with propane – the closer “Renegade” suffers from the kind of painfully uninspired lyrics with which most tunes with outlaw-synonymed titles get saddled, and “Simmer Down” does little but prove that Cristensen has no business trying to imitate the Black Crowes’ Chris Robinson. But when the band is on, they’re fucking on, baby – “Bad Rain in Texas,” “Heaven” and “Flat On My Face” will make you believe in lighter-raising rock & roll again. Hopefully the B-Movie Rats won’t stay in the cellar for so long next time.
http://www.bmovierats.com
http://www.rankoutsiderrecords.com

Review by: Michael Toland

Review by: Ken Zalewski

The disk opens with the one-two punch of the powerhouse hipsway of “Groove On” and the good-humored raunch of “Big, Fat Sexy Mama,” both spiked with horns so perfect as to bring tears to Al Kooper’s eyes. The delicious combination of songwriting smarts and big ol’ six-string hooks makes both tunes easily the best things the band’s ever done. Those cuts would be hard to top, and Carlyle wisely doesn’t try, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t other juicy bites of the Apple here. “Betrayed” injects a grungy power ballad with real spite and anger, “Can’t Get Through to You” kicks its way out the garage with steel-toed boots and “My Heart Still Aches For You” turns off the amps for a fiddle-laced, adrenalized two-step that takes the Pogues to a Texas honkytonk.

All that’s left is the band’s cover of Cale/Clapton’s “Cocaine;” whether or not this wah-wah and drum machine-infused pisstake will sit right depends on how overplayed you think the original classic rock dinosaur is. (Why “Cocaine” instead of including the great title tune, which so far exists only in privately distributed CD-r form?) But that doesn’t worry me much – I can forgive a combo as world-rockingly great as the Compulsions the occasional misstep, as long as they keep kicking my ass as does the rest of Demon Love.
http://www.thecompulsionsnyc.com

Review by: Michael Toland