Reviews

Youth Riot

Black Ends Psychotic Spew LP

Vocalist Nicolle Swims must get this a lot, but she seriously sounds like Gwen Stegani pivoted to a career in swampy ballads and Seattle post-punk experimentation. Upon a first listen to Psychotic Spew, it’s clear BLACK ENDS has chemistry between members and a shared goal in mind. Quite frankly, it sounds really good, rehearsed, a perfect witchy brew of alternative girly rock. However, I cannot shake the utterly contrived feeling I get from this release. Maybe it’s from them making a self-proclaimed genre of “gunk-pop,” or the fact I cannot figure out how a small-ish band can headline its own EU tour in 2023 without a single album released. I am no Debbie Downer, though; they do deserve recognition for this debut album. Comprised of pleasantly discordant melodies and sultry lyricism, tracks like “Pour Me” and “She Speaks of Love” speak to the release’s off-kilter but inventive sound. Bassist Ben Swanson’s and drummer Billie Paine’s rhythmic spell over the songs never gets old, and I also appreciate cellist Lori Goldston’s addition of an instrument you don’t often hear in releases like these. With the satisfyingly clean guitar on “Suppin’ on Stage” and the fun sample near the end of “When I’m Alone,” I’ll forget the curious self-insistence and categorize this as a stellar premier of albums to come.

Casual Hex Zig Zag Lady Illusion II LP

CASUAL HEX just might be the last band standing from Seattle’s mid-to-late 2010s DIY post-punk boom, where, alongside similarly-minded outfits like NAIL POLISH and VATS, they pushed back against the city’s rapid gentrification and tech hellscape wealth disparity (instigated by Amazon, Microsoft, et al.) with an appropriately sharp and panicked sound. It’s been seven years since their last record (2018’s Zig Zag Lady Illusion LP), and they’re not exactly a Seattle band anymore (guitarist/vocalist Erica Miller is now based in Portland), but the more things change, the more they stay the same—the trio’s recurring lyrical themes of devalued labor, mindless consumption, social engineering, and the corrupting effects of power are all still firmly in check here (and as relevant as ever), with an instrumental backing that’s just as scathing. Opener “The System” cuts right to the chase, with exacting stop/start beats, needling six-string scree, and Miller’s perfectly-in-control deadpan giving voice to the sorts of internal monologues that should be shared by anyone actually living in reality (“The system, we feed / Has no belief”). The frigid clang of “Letters & Numbers” picks up the screwdriver baton passed on from Confusion is Sex-era SONIC YOUTH, and the sparse, spring-loaded bass bounce launching the standout “Like a Product” signals toward 99 Records-style no wave danceability, while the ensuing claustrophobic crush of piercing guitar pulls from the most caustic side of genre—think Glenn Branca-helmed projects like the STATIC and THEORETICAL GIRLS, or the art-noise meltdowns of INTERFERENCE. No illusion, this is frighteningly real.

Funny Face Dog in Hell cassette

This cassette is a true time machine. Absolutely no part of this release would have me believe that it came out in the year 2022, aside from it being expressed that it was recorded during the COVID-19 pandemic on the back panel, of course. Catchy and instantly memorable ’90s-sounding indie/alternative rock—I keep seeing comparisons to THEE OH SEES on the band’s Bandcamp page and such, but I just don’t hear that. While this does have some jangly, fuzzed-out guitars and an undeniable pop sensibility, none of their songs feel as driving as the more up-beat OH SEES songs or as out there as their kooky psychedelic jammy ones. I hear more of a mix of DINOSAUR JR. and a bit of that first KING TUFF record.

Sleepover Club W​(​ph​)​oopsie! LP

This LP humorously starts off with the statement “I love Geddy Lee and Geddy Lee loves me.” Fortunately, the RUSH worship ends there. The songs are short blasts of musical fun. It’s lo-fi with attitude. Hi-fi with altitude. Bratty and goofy. A great listening experience.

Wimps City Lights LP

There’s plenty to love about a three-piece of Seattle DIY vets laying out simple, confident, and melody-packed punk with a tinge of pop and garage. If “my shit” could be narrowly defined this would fall well within its parameters. From the midtempo beats that boogie in the pocket to the charmingly disaffected vocals of Rachel Ratner, these tracks keep up the momentum set in motion on their previous full-length (released on the iconic Kill Rock Stars). There is some of that KRS flavor here without relying heavily on ’90s nostalgia, but there is that Gen X slacker patina that still fires me up well into the new millennium. A track like “Big Dipper,” with its garage-y swagger, or the snotty follow-up “Never Leave the House” both showcase the group’s strengths beautifully. The lyrics are impressively simple as well, with condensed rhythms and repetition all with an ear for satisfying rhyme scheme. “Doing It” has plenty of gems such as the ever-relatable line “I pretend to be funny, but I never get the joke / I never spend my money, but I always end up broke / Don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m doing it.” When it comes to the music, though, these are clearly folks who have known what they’re doing for a while now.