Faithealer - Bound and Chained (2008)
Monday, January 26, 2009
Faithealer - Bound and Chained
Faithealer - Bound and Chained (2008)
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Punch - Eyeless EP

punch
i had heard about punch through a variety of facets. seeing Loma Prieta lots of the merch was present, Ghostlimb gave them a few shout outs when i saw them in Seattle, and when i went to see Portraits of Pasts in late December the group also got some mention. after hearing about them from so many great bands i figured that there must've been something legitimate about the group. after hearing this 7" i realized what a mistake it was to not check out the group earlier. a combination of thrash, '90s hardcore, and grind-like rhythms Punch is definitely one of the more aggressive and interesting throwback groups currently playing. of course, the main draw point for many is the female vocalist Meghan (what's up with Meghan's in hardcore?) who is certainly a great front(wo)man and brings the perfect compliment to the already fericous enough music. lyrics center around the dislike of California society or rather society in general, but the success with Punch mainly comes from their ability to as i constantly say about bands to draw on new and old trends in music. if you have interest in hardcore, this is definitely a recommendation.
Punch - Eyeless EP
Friday, December 26, 2008
Low - Christmas
maybe a little late, but here is a christmas album. review is by nigh of rateyourmusic.com fame for more of his work click here.
"I bought this on CD in Crash, one of my favourite record shops in the floating mothership with red and blue flashing lights of an habitual that I call home. It's only a small store, but they get lots of import and American-only release titles that you just can't get in the thoroughly pointless Virgin Megastore. As a result, they consciously cater to the town's more dedicated Maggots and Mansonites, emo kids, straight edgers and that very special brand of make-up abusing disaffected youth, the Brodie Dalle fan (Why? Just why?). Given Crash's effective city-wide monopoly, the guys there must make comedy oversize dessert spoonfuls of money from these poor waifs' demented desire to prove their individuality by buying records their friends approve of. That Crash doesn't confine itself to shooting fish in this particularly small peer pressure cash cow of a barrel, and also stocks stuff like Califone, Godspeed! and, of course, Low's Christmas, is one reason why I like the shop so much. Another is that the staff write kooky descriptions of nearly every CD they sell on tiny little labels no larger than a postage stamp and stick them on the cases. It's always in a rather nice, geometric hand. Always legible. I get terribly worried about the guy whose job this is -- like I say, they stock thousands of CDs...he must get terrible cramps. That he must listen to each CD too, in order to be able to write something at least vaguely relevant to the contents, and is then obliged to describe it in positive terms no matter his true opinion, can't be good for his psychological health either. For this, Low's yuletide hootenanny album, the little label read, "For those among you who will be spending Christmas alone." HOW CAN A TOTAL STRANGER KNOW SO MUCH ABOUT MY LIFE. So it transpired that Christmas was the first Low record I ever bought. It was February at the time. Which is all stupendously back to front, of course, as this album is no starting point for getting into the band and the holiest holy day of February is bloody Shrove Tuesday. Also known as "Quinquagesima". Being the 50th day before Easter. "Shrove" being the past tense of the verb "to shrive", which means "to hear the confession of and give absolution to (a penitent)". Which is_ obviously_ why English people eat pancakes to mark the occasion. "Crack open the Nesquick, my darling, I'm feeling_ absolved_!" In fact, I might never have persisted with Low if it hadn't have been for_ Christmas_'s spellbinding 'Long Way Around The Sea', a simple retelling of the three Jesus-curious Wise Guys' star-guided journeying awash in gorgeous musical illusion. The slightest of strummed guitar figures, Mimi's most captivating backing vocal, a keyboard part that barely quivers and vibrates gently through any loose objects in the vicinity of your speakers and I feel like I'm the one wandering the rolling Levant bearing garish trinkets and aromatic resinous exudations."
Low - Christmas (1999)
"I bought this on CD in Crash, one of my favourite record shops in the floating mothership with red and blue flashing lights of an habitual that I call home. It's only a small store, but they get lots of import and American-only release titles that you just can't get in the thoroughly pointless Virgin Megastore. As a result, they consciously cater to the town's more dedicated Maggots and Mansonites, emo kids, straight edgers and that very special brand of make-up abusing disaffected youth, the Brodie Dalle fan (Why? Just why?). Given Crash's effective city-wide monopoly, the guys there must make comedy oversize dessert spoonfuls of money from these poor waifs' demented desire to prove their individuality by buying records their friends approve of. That Crash doesn't confine itself to shooting fish in this particularly small peer pressure cash cow of a barrel, and also stocks stuff like Califone, Godspeed! and, of course, Low's Christmas, is one reason why I like the shop so much. Another is that the staff write kooky descriptions of nearly every CD they sell on tiny little labels no larger than a postage stamp and stick them on the cases. It's always in a rather nice, geometric hand. Always legible. I get terribly worried about the guy whose job this is -- like I say, they stock thousands of CDs...he must get terrible cramps. That he must listen to each CD too, in order to be able to write something at least vaguely relevant to the contents, and is then obliged to describe it in positive terms no matter his true opinion, can't be good for his psychological health either. For this, Low's yuletide hootenanny album, the little label read, "For those among you who will be spending Christmas alone." HOW CAN A TOTAL STRANGER KNOW SO MUCH ABOUT MY LIFE. So it transpired that Christmas was the first Low record I ever bought. It was February at the time. Which is all stupendously back to front, of course, as this album is no starting point for getting into the band and the holiest holy day of February is bloody Shrove Tuesday. Also known as "Quinquagesima". Being the 50th day before Easter. "Shrove" being the past tense of the verb "to shrive", which means "to hear the confession of and give absolution to (a penitent)". Which is_ obviously_ why English people eat pancakes to mark the occasion. "Crack open the Nesquick, my darling, I'm feeling_ absolved_!" In fact, I might never have persisted with Low if it hadn't have been for_ Christmas_'s spellbinding 'Long Way Around The Sea', a simple retelling of the three Jesus-curious Wise Guys' star-guided journeying awash in gorgeous musical illusion. The slightest of strummed guitar figures, Mimi's most captivating backing vocal, a keyboard part that barely quivers and vibrates gently through any loose objects in the vicinity of your speakers and I feel like I'm the one wandering the rolling Levant bearing garish trinkets and aromatic resinous exudations."
Low - Christmas (1999)
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