Holly and the Nice Lions Dolores LP
I went to Green Bay UFO Museum Gift Shop and Records for the first time a few years ago when I decided to drive the northern route around Lake Michigan to Minneapolis. I walked out of there with some great records on Amphetamine Reptile and a Darth Vader bank for my cousin that would activate with every road bump and say “Impressive, most impressive, you are not a Jedi yet.” There were a lot of bumps. Still, with that slap-tickle memory, I was excited to see that they had something to do with this release. I researched (typed into an Internet browser) Certified PR Records and found that they are based in St. Petersburg, Florida, where long-ago Maximum Rocknroll shitworker, reviewer, columnist, and interviewer Lali D lives, so it can’t be that bad. I heard that St. Pete has a good glass arts scene, too. This Dolores LP starts off with a song clocking in at over four minutes, pulling from the dark side of the dirge-like, cloud-covered Midwest, but around the two-minute mark, it becomes a straight-up middle-finger rocker. This easily could have been on Sympathy for the Record Industry with its lean into the punk side of rock’n’roll. The standout on this is the HOLLY part of HOLLY AND THE NICE LIONS band, and her direct and committed vocals. Oftentimes I’ve felt that singers can tend to overdo it with screaming to try and get across their disgust or pain or anger, but in this instance, HOLLY uses good songwriting coupled with subtle vocal tones and inflection to let you know she’s had enough. I’d be remiss if I didn’t touch on Steven Spoerl’s bass-playing that complements every song, almost as though another dim and somber conversation is taking place somewhere in the same room, with Travis Pashek’s drums pulling you forward through a late-night drive north, hugging the lake shore alone with everything getting darker and darker. This record, in sum, is thoughtful, heavy, dark, empowering, sorrowful, and redeeming rock’n’roll/punk/sludge/garage. Dolores is for those times that you want to be alone to work out what’s been bugging you. HOLLY AND THE NICE LIONS have been a band for over a decade, and I’m a bit sad that I’m just hearing them now. In closing, my cousin loved his Darth Vader bank, and think he’s going to love this record, too. He’s 53.