SHAPE
YOUR MIND - King Felix (4 tracks, 13:51)
CHOKING ME - In Vivo (3 tracks, 8:59)
DEMO FLAVOUR - The Crisps (3 tracks, 8:57)
ROCK N' ROLL - The Stalkers (7 tracks, 16:32)
12 SHITS A DAY - 300 St Claire (6 tracks, 19:47)
HARMONIC BALANCER - 8 Litre Urn (8 tracks, 21:03)
THE MUSICAL - Guddling (6 tracks, 21:27)
SCALES AND SCRAPES - Danny Decay and the Molars (5 tracks, 18:03)
NANNA'S COUNTRY COLLECTION - Yakspit (6 tracks, 26:59)
NEVER GET THERE - Showbag! (4 tracks, 12:14)
MR. E - Revolvar (5 tracks, 19:29)
I'M SICK OF YOU - Iggy & the Stooges (8 tracks, 37:00)
I've been in the grip of something of an E.P. frenzy lately. Once upon a time
(e.g. back in the dim, dark days of vinyl) the humble E.P. format was pretty
prolific and a real bargain to boot. If a band wasn't a one hit wonder, or even
if it was, after every second single the record companies would reissue that
and the previous single on the same 7" platter (gotta milk that recording
dollar for every cent you can I guess, although in my youthful naivety I just
thought they were being generous).
In that distant antediluvian (and pre-decimal currency) age a single cost ten
shillings (working out to five shillings per song), but an E.P. only cost fifteen
shillings and contained four songs (that's a mere 3/9 per song!). So if you
didn't mind waiting, or didn't have much choice because you didn't get much
pocket money, then the E.P was the way to go. Of course a fourteen track album
costing two pounds twelve and sixpence was potentially the best value of all:
only two point six (recurring) shillings per song. Aside from the Beatles though,
not too many bands seemed to be able to come up with 14 tracks of "A"
grade material each time, so there was often either some obvious padding or
simply less tracks (and shit, it took so long to save up for an album).
With the coming of the CD format, the distinctions between albums, singles
and E.P.s seemed to evaporate. The E.P. concept in particular looked to have
passed its logical use by date and be destined for the scrap heap of musical
history, along with the wax roll and the 78. Suddenly though, the E.P. seems
to be making a real comeback, at least in Australia. It's now harder and more
expensive to cling to vinyl, because of the extra effort needed to get something
pressed in the country's one remaining vinyl pressing plant, while CDs (and
CDRs) have become so commonplace (and affordable, more importantly) that they
are well within the reach of all but the poorest indie bands. It's now the cost
of the studio time that's the real limiting factor.
Driven by indie bands who can't afford to stay in the studio long enough to
make a full album, but need to get some songs down on disk so they've got something
to wave under the noses of booking agents and record company trolls (and by
the need for the disk to have enough diversity to do more than just hint at
the band's musical range), the CD E.P. has replaced the 7" as the new indie
band format of choice. I know 'coz I've got a whole stack of them right here.
Having availed themselves of all the studio time they can afford and the most
economic CD production facilities they can find in the back pages of Drum
Media, the average band's next problem is to lift themselves and their music
above the musical horizons of pub going punters and other assorted potential
record buyers. Some of these CDs were sent to the Bar in a quest to reach that
wider audience, while others I paid for out of my own pocket because I saw the
band live and couldn't go home without first buying a musical keepsake after
the gig. See if you can guess which is which...
Top
of the pile, and not just on a last in/first out basis, is "Shape Your
Mind" by King Felix. As I mentioned in the recent Roll Cage gig report,
Roll Cage recently bifurcated [Isn't that a terrific word, "bifurcated"?
Sounds like it evolved solely to describe horrific road accidents... "Well,
the Mack truck hauling the full load of toxic waste went out of control, careering
from one side of the road to the other; when the station wagon full of nuns
came around the corner, the sisters simply didn't stand a chance; they went
straight under the wheels of the truck and the nunmobile was completely bifurcated;
it's just a scene of absolute carnage down here now, there's limbs and internal
organs strewn all over the road and OMiGod!, is that a severed head over there
in the gutter?"].
Sorry, I don't know what came over me just then. King Felix are the half of
Roll Cage that's not still in Roll Cage. That's all I wanted to say. Ned Matijasevic
has stepped out from behind his keyboards and taken up guitar and vocal duties
(and is also credited as main instigator of most of these songs), backed by
Carl Ekman who remains on bass and vocals (usually backing vocals, but sometimes
lead). The trio is completed by Andi Jackson on drums. I don't know much about
him, except that he was the original drummer in the Hunchbacks, before they
ever got to recording, and was rumoured to have been recruited (or re-recruited)
by them again after they parted company with Brad Moore. They were supposed
to be recording some new material and there was talk about them changing their
name to Sly Dog, but I've yet to see a new CD release or hear of a gig by them
under either name.
Conventional wisdom says that you should always put your best foot forward
and King Felix have certainly done that by opening their E.P. with "Fell
For You". Fuck this song is so infectious I keep finding myself singing
along. I can't believe this song hasn't been snapped up by commercial radio.
Well, yes I can actually. If the power pop genius of the Stems couldn't make
an impact on commercial radio back in the days when the airwaves weren't in
the concluding stages of rigor mortis, with all musical decisions being made
by accountants and marketing whores whose taste appears to be mainly in their
rectums, then what hope has an honest, original pop song got now?
Oops, that last paragraph started off so up beat, but by the time I got to
the end of it "Fell For You" had finished and I was into the urban
desolation of "Housing Commission Blues". Sorry about that, but that
is the kind of diversity I was talking about earlier. Ah now here's something
a bit lighter, "Don't Seem Right"; not quite as poppy as "Fell
For You", but still sounding pretty chirpy.
Last track on this E.P. is "More Than Nothing", credited to and clearly
sung by Carl, who gets to indulge his blues fixation for once without it resulting
in a heated argument and an on stage punch up, as it did during more than one
showcase gig during his days with the Hunchbacks. If ever there was a white
man born to sing the blues it's probably Carl; the form fits him like a glove.
(Another review is here).
Short,
sharp and sweet (well, bittersweet anyway), that's how I'd describe this next
E.P. by In Vivo. Only three tracks, with the title song the longest at 3:21.
Vocally Ms Maynard reminds me a little of Astrid Munday, although she's going
much more for raw punch here (with even an echo of Grace Slick at full roar
in the chorus) and there's less delicate, intricate pop as a result. Despite
that, this record is no more than the shadow cast on the recording studio wall
by a flickering candle compared to the megawatt illumination which the band
generates in its live performances.
Guitarist James Lomas takes over main vocal duties on the succeeding "Everybody
Sleeps", a slow burner which packs a good five minutes worth of brooding
resentment, defiance and unresolved anger into its mere 2:48 running time. A
song for anyone harbouring "issues".
The closing "Never Was" is a seething string of denunciations, a
merciless pricking of inflated egos and shattering of illusions, with Fiona
Lee back on vocals and giving a performance that put me in mind of Pat Benetar
channeling Kate Bush on what the tampon adverts like to call "a real heavy
day". Thematically it's a close relative of Moler's "Used To Be".
Boy, it sure would be a bad idea to get into the bad books of any of these rock
chicks. Clearly Carly Simon doesn't have a corner on the musical retribution
market.
As
its title indicates, the Crisps' E.P. is intended mainly for demonstration purposes
(I wonder whether Americans will get the point of the cover or not - what we
call crisps they call potato chips, while what we call potato chips, they call
french fries... vive la difference, er different strokes for different folks).
I'm not sure how long the band had been together when this was recorded, but
it's got a real freshness and raw urgency to it (and a certain puckish humour
too - it starts with six or seven seconds of techno boops and farts before going
into the driving guitar opening of "Evil Twin"; if the techo had reached
ten seconds my CD player would have spat it across the room, 'coz we don't have
no techo here, but even as it was I was getting pretty nervous and starting
to shift uneasily from one buttock to the other before the guitars came in and
we got down to the real music).
As I write this I've seen the Crisps quite recently and they really lay down
some rubber when they get moving. As is the case with the In Vivo E.P., what
you see here (or rather, what you hear here) is just a sketch, an outline, of
what the band has to offer when it does the business live in front of you. It's
like spending time in a Spitfire and then moving up to a jet fighter.
In a way that's hardly surprising when you look at the personnel involved:
former New Christs drummer Stuart Wilson, who also handles the vocals; Johnnys
founding member and all round cowpunk/country rock legend Graham "Hoody"
Hood on bass (hmm, last time I saw him he was in Orange County; does this mean
they've broken up then?); former Orange County guitarist Chris Nacard (oops,
things aren't looking too good for Orange County then); and Dave Git, about
whom I know nothing at the moment...
The track that grabbed me the most at first was "Those Days Are Over",
which marries some hyper velocity guitar work to an older style R&B shouter,
providing a real wake up call to indie guitar bands too busy exploring their
sensitive sides to fuckin' let it rip (or maybe that's just me projecting some
of my own fixations onto it). Either way, there's no accusing the Crisps of
anything like that. This fuckin' rocks.
In live performance it's even better, but so is "Evil Twin"; in fact
"Evil Twin" turned out to be one of the standout songs in the live
set. On this CD it tends to hold itself in and mind its manners, with even a
slight Beatlish echo to the guitar riff at the beginning of the chorus, but
live it roars in your face like the crack of doom. "It's Gonna Make You"
is the lesser of the three tracks here, but only in comparison to the other
two and once again it takes on a life of its own when it's let off its leash
on stage.
Bands
getting ready to make their first record independently could do a lot worse
than to peruse very closely the blueprint represented by Stalkers' "Rock
N' Roll" E.P., because I think it reveals that they have uncovered an important
truth. Namely, that the purpose of that first independent record is not to try
to produce a slick commercial single on a ridiculously low budget; it's to capture
as much as possible of the excitement that the band can generate on stage for
the benefit equally of those who haven't yet seen the band play and for those
who have. At least it sounds to me like that was their intention when they recorded
this E.P.
When you listen to this E.P. you don't hear a bunch of musicians sitting around
in a studio, dispassionately trying to construct a recording where they get
every note perfect, while at the same time ensuring that nothing they play gets
drowned out by anything anyone else plays. Nor does it sound like they've been
any too precious about their "all-star punk band" tag (the Stalkers
consist of serving members of Regurgitator, the Hard Ons and Front End Loader,
while singer Raymond Lalotoa has his own eponymous band).
What you hear instead is four guys simply blazing away, leaping up out of the
trenches and dashing across no man's land without any fear for reputation or
personal safety; which is exactly what you get when you encounter them live.
Sure there are elements of punk and hardcore here, as you'd expect from a band
with this pedigree, but there are also plenty of pure rock hooks, riffs and
frog-in-a-blender lightning fast guitar. On the inner cover the Stalkers list
influences as diverse as Guitar Wolf, New Zealand's D4, Magic Dirt, Sun Ra,
Radio Birdman and the New Christs, Diamanda Galas, the Bondi Massive and Warped
(though strangely not the Powder Monkeys, despite some definite overtones being
apparent on this record). They're not just bullshitting you with this list either,
but it is just a starting point rather than an end goal.
This music may have had its origins "in the garage", but as soon
as they put their collective foot down, they crashed through the back wall,
splintered the back fence separating the adjoining property and were last seen
laying tyre tracks across the neighbour's beautifully manicured back lawn, having
ploughed through a flower bed of prize winning petunias on the way. In the Stalkers'
world view, rock'n'roll is not about being refined, restrained and genteel,
nor is it about designer clothes and looking good when Don Burke comes around
to check out your garden. It's about raw energy and heartfelt passion. I don't
think they set out annoy neighbours and upset parents deliberately; that's just
a bonus.
The
moment you see the title of 300 St Claire's E.P., you instinctively recognise
that this is a band that harbours no illusions about getting its music onto
commercial radio. If you aren't sure, then even a cursory listen to the lyrics
will certainly confirm it. What this E.P. does aim to do however, is to give
the listener a taste (a pretty substantial serving actually) of the sound and
the fury that the band brings to the table of when it lashes out live (hey Bartender,
mix me another metaphor! I think I've drained this one of all it had to offer...).
The line up consists of guitarist and singer Mick Poole, former Panadoll and
occasional roadie cum guitar tech to the likes of the Celibate Rifles and the
Lime Spiders, plus Boogs (Peter von Werth) on drums and Mark Horne (a.k.a. Mark
Maniac) on bass and backing vocals. Boogs and Mark also moonlight as the rhythm
section of the Lowdorados although, since the Lowdorados still play regularly
and 300 St Claire are practically retired, it's more a case of playing with
the Lowdorados and moonlighting with 300 St Claire these days.
In
its initial gigs, 300 St Claire was basically an extension of Mick Poole's previous
band, 8 Litre Urn, and produced its fair share of solid, thunderous stoner rock.
There were differences of course - 8 Litre Urn was based around an unrelenting
twin guitar attack and sounded like a collision between Black Sabbath at their
most portentous and the Celibate Rifles caught in the midst of one of their
more frenzied surf/punk aural assaults.
Obviously I'm saying this based solely on their "Harmonic Balancer"
E.P., since I never got to see 8 Litre Urn play live (I'm not even sure if they
ever made the trip down from Queensland while they were a going concern), but
the visual images that are conjured up when listening to that E.P. are all of
heavy machinery in motion; titanic engines of incredible horsepower and collisions
of unbelievable ferocity - hoons racing each other down half-built freeways
in stolen earth moving equipment, monster truck rallies and multiple semi-trailer
pile ups in fog bound country valleys. While you probably won't ever find the
screaming sound of metal on metal included in anyone's definition of "world
music", it's far more universal than anything that presently goes out under
the "WOMAD" banner.
In 300 St Claire the influences (and the results) sound much broader, even
extending to a quote from the Band's "The Weight" and an exploratory
tilt at the riff from the Stones' "Ventilator Blues" at different
points, while at the same time being stripped back to basics. Sure there's only
the one guitarist now, but if 8 Litre Urn's sound was raw, 300 St Claire's is
positively primal.
It's also more organic; where 8 Litre Urn evoked heavy machinery being tested
to the limits of its engineering, the visions that 300 St Claire evoke are all
of flesh and blood (and certain other bodily fluids - have a close listen to
the lyrics of "New Age Gasoline" for starters), but still within the
context of a driving Oz/Detroit-via-Memphis-and-Chicago guitar-based rawk philosophy.
Nothing artificial, contrived or simulated here; this is all handmade from the
finest local raw materials.
When
I start to think about Guddling, words like "deft", "delicate"
and "nimble" spring to mind. Their first E.P. ("Don't Clean Angry",
reviewed here about eighteen months ago) was a refreshing synthesis of indie
pop and amped up chamber music, marrying the power and immediacy of the former
to the melodic intricacies of the latter without diminishing the strengths of
either.
This new E.P. features the same line up, though Bethan Lewis had been replaced
by another violinist (whose name escapes me) by the time the E.P. actually came
out, and it is very much a case of "the mixture the same as before"
- that mixture being a blend of fast paced, choppy power pop (opening track
"Vegas" - this is the one I'd be pushing as a single if I was running
their record label); requiem pop/glumcore ("Swimming With The Fishes");
atmospheric, but synthesizer-free, dream pop ("Bonnie And Clive");
conventional, bouncy indie pop ("Brisbane"); moody, electric folk
("Jitters"); and meditative melancholia ("Bliss Under False").
Okay, maybe there's nothing you could really mosh to this time (as you could
to the chorus of Triple J favourite "Dishwasher" on the last E.P.,
at least pogo if you were of that persuasion), but the most noticeable difference
is that there is a greater confidence apparent. This applies all round, but
above all to the vocals of singer/guitarist Tara Mathey. Whereas on the previous
E.P. she restricted herself to a fairly narrow range, on this E.P. she continually
allows her voice to soar above and ahead of the instruments, showing much greater
breadth and variety than was hinted at by the first E.P.
"Scales
And Scrapes", from Danny Decay and the Molars, is a another good example
of what I was talking about in relation to the Stalkers, although more in the
negative sense. The inner sleeve contains an exhortation to "play it loud!",
but the recording itself never really sets any fires burning.
I suspect they put the most effort into the first song, "Girl From The
Green Dimension", because it contains some interesting, though cautious,
ideas but overall it's been far too domesticated. Some of the later tracks,
particularly "Daydreaming", still have a little life left in them,
as well as the odd borrowed riff, so I can't help suspecting that they got less
attention in the studio and thus remain closer to their original, natural roots
(obviously this comment doesn't apply to the ill advised cover of "Killing
Me Softly" with which the E.P. closes).
As for "Kissing Miranda" and its self-conscious rhyme with the Jacaranda
under which the kiss was stolen... no, I'll keep my own counsel on that. On
the whole it's pleasant guitar pop, but this doesn't sound like a band that's
had too many gigs yet.
This
Yakspit E.P. is several years old. I don't know how long I've had it, but I
do remember that my brother gave it to me as part of a Christmas present (an
eclectic collection of records by bands he'd been listening to on Adelaide's
alternative radio) and of all the E.P.s in the parcel, this was the standout.
Later that year, or rather the next year, they turned up on the talent quest
segment of that Friday night ego trip for the ever annoying Dylan Lewis on the
ABC (the 10:30 Slot?) and they got all the way to the final, where multimedia
media megastar Ashley Thomson was one of the guest panelists that week and went
in to bat for them, after dismissing all the other contenders as "wimpy"
and "horrible".
Unfortunately Ashley was outnumbered and overruled by two air heads from major
labels, who at least gave us all a clear and unequivocal demonstration of why
so much commercially released music is such absolute and unrelieved shite. I
can't remember now what Yakspit song was played for the final and I've long
since taped over that segment accidentally (apologies Ash, mate, but it was
the Soundtrack Of Our Lives guest spot on the Letterman show, so at least it
was lost in a good cause), but they certainly had some good ones to choose from.
Since then, I've heard nothing more from or about them, so maybe that rejection
was the final straw that broke the camel's back (or rather the yak's back).
At least there's this E.P. to remember them by and what a fine collection of
guitar driven memories it is; not quite clean enough for power pop, nowhere
near dirty enough for grunge, but just right - you can imagine Goldilocks listening
to this on her walkman while she scoffed down baby bear's porridge (and with
this blasting away in her ears, there'd be no falling asleep afterwards and
getting caught by the bear family when they came back from their stroll!).
Okay, these last three E.P.s do have some sort of record company backing, but
they're only small record companies (and yeah, Iggy isn't even Australian either,
though the Stooges were a struggling band without a record contract when the
songs on their E.P. were written and recorded). Anyway, we here at the Bar like
what these companies are doing and besides, these E.P.s were in the same pile
as the others, so what more justification need I offer?
Having
said that, when I put on "Never Get There" by Showbag!, I had to take
it off again almost immediately to check that someone hadn't swapped it for
an unreleased R.E.M. out take from the period between "Document" and
"Out Of Time". I'm used to associating Zip Records (or at least
their Australian arm) with power pop, but this is very sweet and what... emo
lite?
Second and third tracks, "Trap Soul Door" and "Sabre Toothed
Tales" (both covers), have more oomph, but then they're bolstered by some
additional guitar work from DM3's Toni Italiano. Now this is closer to what
I expect from Zip, though it's still a bit on the soft side. Final track,
"How Much Would It Hurt?", is a live acoustic recording from a radio
show and demonstrates their softer, sensitive side I guess.
Revolvar's
"MR. E" E.P. turned up during a trawl through the dustier archives
of Laughing Outlaw's back catalogue. I actually saw these guys play live
at Bar Broadway once, albeit only very briefly. As you can probably guess, this
means that they were supporting someone else and I turned up late as usual,
only managing to catch their last song and a half; proof, if any were needed,
that tardiness is so often its own punishment.
The copyright date on this is 1999 and I haven't heard much about them recently
(well nothing really), though they may still be going great guns back in Adelaide
whence they hail (who knows, maybe even sharing the occasional double bill with
Yakspit). When I did a web search for "Revolvar", all I got was a
bunch of Spanish sites. When I rephrased it as "Revolvar+rock", all
I got was a smaller bunch of Spanish sites which appeared to be talking about
the Beatles, plus a dead link to www.revolvar.com. If they have broken up then
that's a pity, because on the strength of this they had a lot to offer.
The Beatles do make a good reference point though. It seems to me that you
can divide rock fans into two distinct groups: those who acknowledge that everything
of any consequence in "modern music" either started with or follows
on directly from the Beatles and those who've got their heads up their arses.
Clearly all the members of Revolvar have got both feet (and all other body parts
of any consequence) firmly planted in the first group, because the five tracks
on this EP are positively resplendent with Beatle influences, though fortunately
without any of these songs ever lapsing into simple pastiche.
Sure there are other influences too. The intro to "Blast From The Past"
respectfully echoes the Master's Apprentices' "Turn Up Your Radio",
while "Ralph's Lighter" might even sound on the surface like it owes
much more to Pink Floyd's pastoral phase ("Green Is The Colour", "Grantchester
Meadows", etc) with an added splash of "Us & Them" than to
the Beatles, but put the CD player on "repeat" and let it soak in
for a while and sure enough there's the fab four again, gathering up their instruments
and ready to head up to roof for that last public performance.
Feelings
seem to run high in some quarters when it comes to discussing Bomp's Iguana
Chronicles project, a seemingly endless series of Iggy Pop/Stooges rehearsals,
demos, studio outtakes and audience recordings of extremely variable quality.
Undoubtedly few other artists have left such an intriguing (and wide!) range
of incomplete and abandoned works, but is it barrel scraping of the most cynical
variety, or is it an invaluable archeological exercise?
The three studio tracks on this release ("I'm Sick of You", "Tight
Pants" and "Scene of the Crime") come from very early on in the
Pop/Williamson collaboration and are definitely at the high end of the scale,
both in quality and historical interest. These were the first, albeit tentative,
steps towards what became the "Raw Power" album, except that Bowie's
people responded to the demo tape with an emphatic "No!".
"Tight Pants" eventually resurfaced as "Shake Appeal" and
did thus become part of "Raw Power", which otherwise contained all
new material, while the other two songs sank apparently without a trace - at
least until Bomp rescued them from oblivion, along with two further "Raw
Power" refugees ("I Got A Right" and "Gimme Some Skin")
which do not appear on this E.P. What appear in their places on this record
are multiple live versions of the first three songs from later years, showing
that Iggy at least thought that they deserved better than to be just discarded.
Frankly, I gotta agree with him. Certainly this studio version of "I'm
Sick of You" is more deliberate and less belligerent than what we did get
on "Raw Power", but it's still a good song in its own right and would
not have been entirely out of place amongst the rest of the songs on that album.
Keep in mind too that this is only its earliest incarnation. As the live versions
from 1993 show, it had plenty of potential and could easily have held its own
in that company if the band had taken another lash at it and this time maybe
applied a little extra... well, raw power.
"Scene of the Crime" is more of a curio, being less developed than
either of the other two songs. Still waste not, want not; part of it eventually
turned up again as a section of "Winners and Losers" in 1986 (on "Blah
Blah Blah").
What we've got here in total is three studio tracks and five live versions
spread over fifteen years. Barrel scraping? A cynical rip off? Well, with a
running time of 37 minutes this record is as long as many albums and Bomp are
flogging it for only the price of an E.P., so it seems to me more like a bargain
than anything else.
We normally end with a Rolling Rock rating, but these E.P.s are so diverse
in intent and execution that it would be both pointless and misleading to try
to rate them all on the same scale. My advice is simple: either catch 'em in
action at a gig somewhere or else lay in a slab of whatever you're drinking
these days, pick the bands that sound the most interesting to you, email 'em
and ask how much remuneration they'd want to send you one of their CDs (they're
only E.P.s after all, so it's not like it's gonna cost you an arm or a leg).
- John McPharlin
King Felix: kingfelix5@hotmail.com
In Vivo: fionalmaynard@hotmail.com
The Crisps: stuspasm666@hotmail.com
The Stalkers: consume1@ozemail.com.au
300 St Claire: st.claire300@optusnet.com.au
8 Litre Urn: try c/- Ashley Thomson at www.headmiles.com.au
(that's where I got my copy)
Guddling: mail@guddling.com.au
Danny Decay and the Molars: summercloud@iprimus.com.au
Yakspit: P.O. Box 451, Greenacres S.A. 5086 (sorry, no email or website)
Showbag! c/- Zip Records: www.ziprecords.com
Revolvar c/- Laughing Outlaw Records: www.laughingoutlaw.com.au
Iggy & the Stooges c/- Bomp Records: www.bomp.com
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