Kill Your Idols – Something Started Here

In 1995 Kill Your Idols seized the NYHC sound enforced by 1980’s bands like Black Flag and Negative Approach. Lifeline Records’ new release Something Started Here chronicles these Long Island punks’ 12 year career. All 38 tracks, rich with rarities and B-sides, demonstrate the band’s unfailing allegiance to its roots.

Songs ignite and flash by, rarely lasting longer than 2 minutes. Shouted lyrics dish out condemnation and anger, purge personal frustrations and disappointment, or assert resolve and redemption. Guitars gun through simple progressions, yielding only to chug and build more steam.

Hardcore’s detractors may rightfully argue that such strict conformity to punk’s prerequisites is the genre’s failing. After all, hardcore and punk are among the only genres in which bands can get away with releasing a compilation album where each song sounds the same.

But Kill Your Idols stand out on Something Started Here for two reasons: first, this band, founded and finished by vocalist Andy West and guitarist Gary Bennett II, is the real deal. Among the legions of shitty, cookie cutter hardcore bands out there, Kill Your Idols has street credibility. Might seem foolish to some, but in hardcore this means everything.

And second, a good look at Something Started Here reveals that these songs are not all the same. This one-disc catalog includes liner notes that touch on forces and factors that surfaced during each recording session. For example, maybe during one session the singer was listening to a lot of Motorhead. Or during another session a member was dealing with some issue. No, the changes within Something Started Here don’t manifest as dramatically as the changes between The Beatles’ Revolver and Sgt. Pepper’s, but the they’re there. Whatever was happening at the time registers somehow in the music, no matter how insignificant it may seem.

Either you like hardcore or you don’t. If you do then you’ll want Something Started Here. There are a lot of treasures here, like track 1, “Can’t Take My Pride”, track 7, “Again”, and an awesome cover of Scandals’ 80′s hit “Goodbye to You”. So check them all out.

Or, the Whale – Light Poles and Pines

Straight from their ten-gallon hearts, San Francisco’s Or, the Whale have set themselves apart from typical indie folk/country with their first release, Light Poles and Pines. Simple, old-timey song structures with modern tones and feels reflect an age of dry, sweltering sunlight and of basking on a bale of hay with a mason jar of moonshine. The music sounds as if it was performed by a gang of dirt-covered, sweat-soaked ranch-hands in overalls; the band saddles up with serenity, honesty, and uncompromisable brilliance.

With “Call and Response,” Or, the Whale swiftly kicks open the saloon doors of Light Poles and Pines and immediately, with authority, demands a drink. Barstools are shoved aside as they stake their claim on this land, with a half-dozen mouths stuffed full of crooked teeth and strands of grass they methodically stomp, clap and hustle their way through its introduction. With painstaking accuracy, they transport us to another world, one that’s best viewed through a filter of sepia. Or, the Whale have somehow managed to capture a feel of pure, unadulterated country music, the kind that should only be accompanied by the pops of an old gramophone, yet freshly updated and merged with clean, crisp indie rock tones and harmonies.

The next track “Saint Bernard” is a sad little song with the feel of an old shed out back, each member softly plucking, strumming, tapping, humming little tones, clicking their heels on the rotting wooden floor as the rain pounds the roof, and there’s nothing the band would rather be doing on a night such as this. As the record plays, they stagger back and forth between listlessness and lethargy, occasionally punctuating the feel with upbeat and playful rollicking.

As “Threads” shuffles on, I can almost feel the sting in my eyes from all the dust Or, The Whale is kicking up from their boots. The rickety chair rocks in perfect rhythm as the banjo strums on so fast, making my fingers ache just listening to it.The fifth track, “Death of Me,” portrays an apparently forlorn barista named Stephanie, its distant organ subtly nudges you forward into their well-deserved intermission track, “Crack a Smile.” They soon pick things right back up again with the contradictory “feel-good” track of the album, “Fixin’ to Leave,” and into the draggy, moonlit sonata that is “Rope Don’t Break.”

This is true Americana. Or, The Whale somehow gets away with the amount of layers they wrap it in while keeping it from becoming as watered-down as its compatriots. Each layer as crucial as the rest in portraying the history captured in Light Poles and Pines, and in succeeding in blowing the barn doors off of contemporary country and western.

The clever and charismatic opening of the accidentally mis-titled “Bound to Go Home” begins a drunken romp around the stable yard. Each member seems to be intertwined at the arm, spinning around in circles, smiling, shouting, stomping their feet while beer-soaked fingers sloppily twinkle the piano keys against a fierce barrage of dueling acoustic guitar and banjo strums. This is a three-minute peek into a world where nothing else matters, only this song that could have very well been composed at that very moment. What follows is “Prayer for the Road,” a campfire anthem which perfectly celebrates the sun setting behind a southern plateau. The album’s final tracks round everything out, ending with “Fight Song,” a veritable cleanser of the palate, one that slowly and gently brings us back to our modern time.

This impressive debut from Or, the Whale declares a promise and brands themselves, with a hot iron, as representatives of the true revival of modern Americana. These guys have clearly been sifting and have apparently found gold. Lucky for us, they’re willing to share the wealth.

La Jr – Dos Casas

As this is being written a late summer thunderstorm rages outside, which feels like an appropriate backdrop for Dos Casas the latest album from La Jr. Images of a 50’s crime noir film have unrolled since first setting ears on this album and the way the thunder outside seemingly waits for the quieter moments in the songs is frankly a bit unsettling. But that’s the whole point.

Vocalist Frank Rudow and the rest of his band have created a soundtrack for a crime film that has yet to be made. With a rolling upright bass line and pulsating organ, the opening track “la decoracion 1” delivers in setting the theme. It’s an inviting and hypnotic start and you can imagine the credits rolling as the P.I. drives down rain slicked streets. “Perro,” the second track, can be seen as a recap of the crime, replete with its Psycho-esque violin stabs. Except where in that film the soundtrack was upfront and unrelenting, here they stand in the background, sparse and muted, making it even creepier.

There are many moments throughout the album that bring about an unease caused by only one unexpected guitar note or vocal. Rudow’s compositions and vocal delivery are similar to Michael Gira in his Angels Of Light project. He sings as though he’s telling you a secret in such an intimate and breathy way that you’re sure you don’t want to hear what he has to say. There are times however that this becomes grating because his voice is so upfront you can hear his mouth move. It’s as though the microphone was nearly in his mouth. This doesn’t become a problem until the midpoint of the album where it seems everything else falls apart as well.

By “Pistoleros” it sounds as though the band has grown bored and by now we’ve got ourselves a cold case. Opening with a minute of silence save for a few random violin scrapes, the song that follows lacks cohesion. It’s a jazzy number in a Mingus like vein but doesn’t hold up over its lengthy running time. “Wan Yo” starts strong enough with plaintive acoustic guitar but it doesn’t go on long enough, as though good or bad, the band feels tired. Things do pick up by the end but interest is lost at this point. There are also moments of random silences and noises that don’t make sense in the larger context of Dos Casas. “Yo voy a cambiar, eh!” which translates to “I am going to change” does live up to its name by providing the most pop oriented song of the album. But again, too little too late.

By keeping the vocals sparse and using mainly Spanish style instrumentation La Jr have a good thing going and are more than capable of creating a mood. Unfortunately it doesn’t succeed in extending the plot long enough to keep the listener involved. Acuarela Discs has a fine tradition of putting out quality albums of varying styles, this is just one minor setback in their catalog.

The Black Swans – Change!

I find it very difficult to believe that Black Swans singer Jerry DeCicca’s speaking voice sounds anything like his singing voice. His husky voice coupled with his Dylan-esque delivery almost sounds like a parody. It distracts upon the initial listen and really may even deter you from ever giving Black Swans a chance.

If this is the case, it would be a serious mistake on the listener’s part because Change! is a damn fine album.

The beauty of Change! lies mainly in its ability to make folk, a genre that’s been around nearly as long as the acoustic guitar, sound entirely modern while still conveying the simple themes of heartbreak, anxiety, and desire. DeCicca’s guitar is, of course, the cornerstone of every song, but the real beauty lies not in his songwriting, but the ability of the musicians around it to create everything from background dissonance to up-front melody and soundscapes.

This mostly lies in violin/viola player Noel Sayre’s ability to make his instrument talk. His string arrangements could be the main attraction on this record if only he weren’t so adept at taking a backseat when the song needs to speak for itself. He swoops in and out of “Only Be With You” as if he were the vocalist, linking DeCicca’s verses seamlessly. You almost don’t even realize the song is the weakest track of the album lyrically, instead making it a standout.

The rest of the band is skilled as well. The tone of the electric guitar is warm and welcoming, and the playing, done mostly by Chris Forbes, never oversteps its bounds, which is key for a band which the songs are the feature. The rest of the band is capable and treads lightly the the majority of the album.

Unfortunately, the weak point of this album is DeCicca himself. He’s a talented lyricist, as was showcased on the Sex Brain EP, but here he is often forgettable, occasionally trite, and sometimes cringeworthy. Perhaps the most frustrating lyrical moment on the album comes on “Fruitless Ways,” which asks a mystery character to “lay down your fruitless ways,” but then immediately follows the vague request with the seriously affecting line “we bleed the same blood/but we die different in the end.” This could be a ruthless barb or a gentle reassurance. Unfortunately, Jerry never lets us in on the secret. Couple this with his difficult voice and he’s got no shot at really leaving an impression.

Despite this major shortcoming, the melodic brilliance of a song like “3 Broken Words,” which features a great sounding bright electric guitar, or familiar yet powerful piano chords of “Change!” make this album an above average folk listen. If Black Swans can combine the sound of songs like those with the lyrical accomplishments of prior recordings, they could have a serious winner on their hands. They’re definitely close on this one.

Between the Wars – Death and the Sea

A hardcore band with the original Thursday guitarist and singer of Ensign. At this point I was thinking this was going to be a positive review. There are a few things (besides the songs) preventing this. The liner notes claim this CD was engineered, produced, mixed, and mastered. Death and the Sea sounds like a demo compared to anything released on Bridge 9 or Rivalry these days. Also, who’s ever heard of having 16 tracks on a hardcore LP?

We begin with “Keep Laughing,” and the title is a little too self-deprecating, even though I have lots of criticism. Roughly the first half of it has monotone shouting vocals with clanky cymbal hits and borderline corny leads. From the breaking point on things seem to get more interesting. The mosh part is complemented by harsh screaming, it beats out his usual delivery. The singer is really bad at changing up the tone or using any non-straightforward patterns. The following leads don’t overdo it, which is important, because most times the guitarist is overcompensating his metal influence in a hardcore band.

“Uno Mas” is a 1:35 long instrumental with essentially three parts. It starts off standard enough: repeated chords-into-chugs. Then comes the confusion in the form of a solo you’d air guitar to complete with clanky cymbal hits. They sandwich this with a few more bars of the beginning chords. It sounds like two different bands at odds with each other.

I did scope out a few standouts that include “No Obligation,” “The Last Stop,” and “The Meek Shall Inherit Nothing.” The bass riff on “No Obligation” and following destruction is straight out of the Helmet handbook. Backed! You can actually feel the rhythm guitar’s presence on “The Last Stop” because it isn’t buried under the leads like most of these are.

Between the Wars needed less quantity and more quality with this one. Maybe next time guys.

Various Artists – Guilt By Association

Contrary to narrow-minded opinion, indier-than-thou types can be just as susceptible to the hidden-charms of middle-of-the-road songwriters as they are to the work of the reputable rock demi-gods. Rarely though, do such people openly admit to liking such guilty daytime radio or MTV-friendly pleasures, let alone re-record them with a degree of earnest admiration. Sure, there was a Carpenters tribute album some years ago (which included a stellar Sonic Youth contribution), Mark Kozelek has done his AC/DC and Genesis deconstructions, Will Oldham has dabbled here and there (notably with Elton John and Cranberries standards), as too has Devendra Banhart (with R. Kelly’s repertoire), but it’s still the old workhorses (Neil Young, Bob Dylan, The Beatles et al.) that get the largest slices of the covers cake from the left-of-centre musical world. Therefore, this new and much-hyped compilation of ‘alt. rock-stars re-interpreting the decidedly un-cool songbooks of the manufactured and mass-marketed mainstream’ is such a refreshing and remarkable break from the norm.

Tackling a motley bundle of otherwise cringe-worthy material is a largely-revered but crucially not too self-important gathering of artists. Collectively, they take a myriad of approaches in attempting to unearth some of their supposed ‘favourite’ AOR/MOR tracks from the rubble of histrionic singers, over-polished production values and – in some cases – really bad hair. The success of each featured contributor depends largely on them channelling their own inherent quirks into the creations of the unhip, as well as finely-balancing levels of irreverence and respect. Such assessment criteria splits Guilt By Association into three unevenly-sorted groups; the fakers, the shakers and the innovators.

‘The fakers’ are the ones that either show-off (Mike Watt’s unfunny mangling of Blue Öyster Cult’s “Burnin’ For You” succeeds in being even more sludgy than the original), rely on a lazy stripped-down setting for a still-unredeemable composition (such as Casey Shea’s tedious take on System of A Down’s “Chop Suey”) or just try too hard (The Mooney Suzuki’s overwrought stab at Cher’s “Just Like Jesse James”). Thankfully though, such misfires are in a minority, leaving ‘the shakers’ to straddle the bulk of the collection. Rolling in, to hog the limelight, comes Devendra Banhart’s seemingly reverential Mariachi busker renovation of Oasis’s “Don’t Look Back In Anger” (which conceals a cheeky double-entendre rewrite of the lyrics), closely followed by Will Oldham’s deadpan electronic reconstruction of Mariah Cahey’s “Can’t Take That Away” (which almost sounds more synthetically-assembled than its more-famous version). Elsewhere, Mark Mulcahy’s twist on Shania Twain’s “From This Moment On” is so astonishingly pretty and lovelorn that it wouldn’t have sounded too out of place on his sublime SmileSunset LP. Ex-Karate frontman Geoff Farina pulls a similarly winning move with his elegiac electro-acoustic re-arrangement of Eddie Money’s “Two Tickets To Paradise”. Although not quite as revelatory as hoped for, Jim O’Rourke’s epic six-minute spin through The Spice Girls ballad “Viva Forever” alternates impressively between rugged blues dirge, plaintive Bacharach orchestration and burbling electronica.

Ultimately, it’s ‘the innovators’ who really make Guilt By Association worth most of the promotional hyperbole. Petra Haden’s reapplication of her multi-tracked a cappella vocal shtick (as used on her startling rebirth of The Who Sell Out) upon Journey’s previously unbearable “Don’t Stop Believin’” makes for a truly bewitching experience. Superchunk’s soaring high-octane punk-pop attack on Destiny’s Child’s “Say My Name” celebrates the original’s sassiness and then takes it back to sit snugly alongside the quartet’s own string of blistering lightening-fast ‘hits’. Ahead of Haden and Superchunk’s entries by a whisker, is Luna’s slinky slow-funk makeover of Paula Abdul’s “Straight Up” (an outtake from the sadly dissolved band’s Romantica studio sessions), which proves itself as another utterly adorable addition to Dean Wareham’s vast catalogue of transcendental reincarnations.

Whilst Guilt By Association may have its fair share of fillers (but then what multi-artist compilation doesn’t?) as an exercise in rehabilitating otherwise odious songs it wins on many different levels. Now, dare it be suggested already that a Guiltier By Further Association sequel set might be worth considering?

The Receiving End of Sirens – The Earth Sings Mi Fa Mi

Between the Heart and the Synapse, the debut full-length from Boston based quintet The Receiving End of Sirens, was in heavy rotation when I first heard it. They are one of many bands these days that experiment with electronics coupled with a post-hardcore delivery. They are also one of the very few bands that pull it off with enough technical and addicting melodies to help them stand out among their peers, without loosing edge. As ambitious as this debut full-length was, it still left much to be desired. Songs ran far past a typical 3 and half minute length, which in some cases wasn’t necessary, not to mention the occasional filler. Still, it was a solid effort. It’s a good thing the band survived a few lineup changes, because in The Earth Sings Mi Fa Mi they have grown out of the more archetypal elements of their brand of post-hardcore, and have written a solid rock record.

The first distinct impression that I got when listening to The Earth Sings… is that since their last album, the production has gone through the roof. This is probably attributed to the fact that the album is more heavily steeped in electronics and a broader instrumentation. The first song, “Swallow People Whole”, is a slow moving, yet catchy tune almost entirely driven by electronic beats and keyboards. Eventually the guitars kick in at the right moment to add to the atmosphere rather than distract and take the center stage like some songs on their previous album. “Oubliette (I Disappear)” has a hint of prog-rock attitude as well a chorus that elevates the song to becoming a potential single, if any. The only thing that I would say takes away from it is the filler at the end. It serves to fill in the space until the next song, and it’s a minor complaint, but it would have been fine without it.

“The Crop and the Pest” is just another great rock song with a great big chorus, complete with layered vocals. The best songs on their previous album, were the ones with the big choruses, and they have upped the ante ten-fold on this release. If anything was sacrificed in the jump, it would be the speed. While they were more driving and aggressive on Between the Heart…, their elongation here adds to the epic scope and allows for a bigger canvas to build on their creative strengths. This is especially the case on “A Realization of the Ear”, in which the lyrics are perfectly complimented with the electronic backdrop. The song beautifully culminates in the second half when the layered vocals come in to add to the instrumentation and finish in solidarity, underscoring the bleak, yet simple lyrics.

If any songs bring back the most from their previous effort, they would easily be “Saturnus” and “Heir for an Empty Breath”. They are similar in sound, but they are also more epic in scope. Meanwhile, “Stay Small” further showcases the bands ability to write awesome guitar lines. I like the occasional solo, but I am even more impressed with the more simple guitar lines that are not necessarily technical, but add a lot to the atmosphere and integrity of the song.

The Receiving End of Sirens will no doubt get some flak for “maturing”, but when they are delivering great music, it should silence even past nay-sayers. While Between the Heart… showed us they can play their instruments, The Earth Sings Mi Fa Mi shows us they can write amazing songs. Pick this up along with their last release to experience a band that is poised for much greater success.

Morrissey – Ringleader Of The Tormentors

Things I learned from Morrissey’s latest album…

…that there’s a typo in the album title – it should be Ringleader Of The ‘Tormented’, no, or has he gone to the other side?

…that Johnny Marr and his guitar (from The Smiths) are sorely missed, as always.

…that the boys’ choir harmonizes so innocently and sweetly on the darnedest of chorus lines, like “There is no such thing in life as normal” and “The father who must be killed.”

…that Morrissey just really doesn’t like Pittsburgh. On “On The Street I Ran” he ends the song with “…take anyone, take people from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania – just spare me.”. Wow, bite your tongue, Morrissey!

…that the killer couplets and bilious barbs are fewer and farther between. There are, however, some lovely ones, like “The youngest was the most loved, the youngest was the cherub, we kept him from the world’s glare, and he turned into a killer.” (“The Youngest Was The Most Loved”); “Living longer than I had intended, something must have gone right.” (“In The Future When All Is Well”); “The father who must be killed, with his dying breath he grabs her hand and he looks into her eyes – he says ‘I’m sorry.’…and he dies.” (“The Father Who Must Be Killed”); “…I’ve been shifting gears all my life but I’m still the same underneath – this you surely knew.” (“Life Is A Pigsty”); “They would should love me walk right through me. I am a ghost and as far as I know I haven’t even died.” (“I’ll Never Be Anybody’s Hero”); “All these streets can do is claim to know the real you.” (“On The Street I Ran”); and, saving the best for last – “To me you are a work of art, and I would give you my heart, that’s if I had one.” (“To Me You Are A Work Of Art”).

…that Morrissey is actually trying to play it “straight-forward” on many of the songs – all heartfelt professions of love and loss. Is Morrissey becoming the crashing bore he abhors? Is his reportedly content and stable love life and pampered existence in Los Angeles and Rome interfering with his musical work? Has he lost whatever miserable, messed-up edge he had? Take, for instance: “Now I am walking through Rome and there is no room to move, but the heart feels free…” (“Dear God, Please Help Me”); “I thank you with all of my heart.” (“In The Future When All Is Well”); and “Every second of my life I only live for you.” (“Life Is A Pigsty”).

…that he continues to push all the tried ‘n’ true buttons, i.e., railing against the U.S. in “I Will See You In Far Off Places” (“If your god bestows protection upon you and if the USA doesn’t bomb you, I believe I will see you somewhere safe…”) and organized religion “…no Bible-belters to mess with me…” (“The Father Who Must Be Killed”), tackling killer kids on not one, but two songs (“The Youngest Was The Most Loved” and “The Father Who Must Be Killed”), illuminating the world of the working-class (“On The Street I Ran”), and waxing on about various forms of love (“Dear God, Please Help Me”, “You Have Killed Me”, “Life Is A Pigsty”, “I’ll Never Be Anybody’s Hero”, “To Me You Are A Work Of Art”, “I Just Want To See The Boy Happy”, etc…).

…that some of the songs don’t quite live up to their titles. Usually Morrissey’s vocal delivery and lyrics are enough to sustain my interest, but this time, I can only take so much repetition and stretching out of his lyrics. Morrissey’s voice is still sublimely wistful, if a little less powerful than before – but cool song titles like “You Have Killed Me”, “In The Future When All Is Well”, “Life Is A Pigsty”, and “I’ll Never Be Anybody’s Hero” get tired fast and lose their meaning when warbled as lyrics over and over again.

The Black Dog – Book Of Dogma

The trio of Ken Downie, Ed Handley and Andy Turner formed The Black Dog in 1989 and did not actually emerge from the UK techno scene, but rather defined it. This double CD release is a collection of digitally re-mastered classics and rarities, some long out of print, by these forefathers of techno.

The music heard on Book Of Dogma was so new and indescribable that it spawned a new generation of delineative genre names like ambient-techno and IDM (Intelligent Dance Music), although breakbeat trance is an equally apt description. This collection shows how The Black Dog’s forward-looking, new sound evolved from the early days of their first release “Virtual”, where dub and ambient elements were integrated into the techno/house/electronica sound, through the 90′s when the band introduced dark, atmospheric synths swirling around the beats and electronically manipulated found sounds criss-crossing in and out of the mix.

High-BPM programmed beats, thick bass and quick snare snaps are coupled with odd time signatures to form a relentless sonic assault in which most of the dancing takes place in your head. There are a few scattered interruptions where sweeping synthesizers add some spacey interludes and some much needed melody while sampled voices, squeaky sound effects and scratchy blips and bleeps work to keep the listener’s attention.

Ultimately though, any real captivating melodies prove too elusive and the BPMs too demanding as the basic rhythmic beat running through each song is played out without enough variation; which can be exasperating for those of us not intelligent enough to dance to this trance. Although fans of this genre will be sure to revel in this piece of history.

The Stolen Records – Basement Songs

The messages in Ska music during my heady days of elementary school – in the wisdom of Reel Big Fish – seemed to present a way of living that was pretty righteous: don’t sell out and when you are out of the school band play your instrument sinfully loud, like you’re not supposed to.

My friend’s sister, who was five years older at the time, drilled the messages home for me when she guided me through each lyric line of RBF’s “Trendy.”

“Every one that looks like me is my friend.”

She was very good looking (with her music suggestions, she was already leading me toward those dangers the song warns of) with a stick figure and unkempt natural blond hair; she also had a command of language that she used to persuade me with ease.

However as I grew older and followed the classic rock music (Neil Young, Fleetwood Mac, Beatles, The Who, Dylan or as Patti Smith says, The Greek Gods of rock) I turned a deaf ear to a lot of the good things that were going on in Ska music at the time of my “coming of age”. The name Operation Ivy was branded on many hoodies and I didn’t care. I had missed the best Voodoo Glow Skulls show ever and I had the unbruised skin to prove it.

One band of friends close to my heart shredded our comely small town parks with riffs gleaned from the Specials catalogue and a reckless energy passed from The Dead Kennedy’s and Black Flag. Here I saw the darker side of Ska. I was again intrigued that outsider ethics could both sneak into glorious horn lines and attack with a punk rock frenzy as well.

So today I understand the different strategic attacks possible in the genre known as “Ska.” With that, 2006’s Basement Songs by the Stolen Records reminds one of the exuberance and possibility latent in the genre. These East coast rockers stick to the ska bop and throw in a little dub, nicely coordinated multi-sexed vocals, some instrumental interludes and plenty of lyrics from the woebegone world of twenty somethings who don’t know what the fuck they really want to do except throw shows and have the microphone power to kick the party out when the show’s been done for thirty minutes (this happens at one point in the record).

The Stolen Records, if strong, should keep basement parties hopping and pogoing for some time.

The hostile, militant ska tactics mentioned above don’t quite apply to the overall mood of the record. Basement Songs is designed around a solid core of fun. The most solid tracks reflect this. “Tequilla Reggae” gives vocalist Kevin Verni enough room to stretch his talent through breezy choruses. Emily Hulslander meets him on “Waiting for Something to Wait For,” a song with a message not unique among this apathetic generation. One can only hope that rock music will seek to overpower this “waiting for waiting” in the near future.

When The Stolen Records get aggressive, the songs don’t gel. “Flawed Logic” and “Drinking Song” (probably a hit at parties) follow with up-tempo numbers that feel a bit off kilter. The organ tones of “Drinking Songs” almost make up for a song with a chorus that outweigh the verses – a song that leaves the ears disoriented.

The album does have a recurring theme, the dub. There is “Baltimore Dub” a “Serotonin Dub” and a “Divorce Dub.” “Serotonin Dub” is filtered through some interesting production. Each Dub reprises the band’s love of the genre. “Crunch” has Haslander bopping along the lazy beats of keys, guitar and bass. “Come sunrise you will forget me/I am cursed with this wanderlust,” Haslander bemoans effectively. Here and throughout the 18 song disc, The Stolen Records settle into a groove best when grooving on the party.

If there’s one last thing to say about this modest record, it’s that the band could benefit from simple editing. Eighteen tracks is a good deal of time to devote to a party album (though 46 minutes is still a short LP). One thinks that an up-tempo 10 to 11 track could capture that lightning in a bottle drunk better than the 18.

Ska admittedly has saved many a young man from ruin and introduced a Caribbean tradition to many a white boy. The high schools in America are by and large a place of painful repression and the presence of such joyful sounding, subversive brass bands can lead to explosive results – and many ska bands.

The players in this scene, if practicing with a fire that doesn’t die, can also find delayed maturity is a gradual effect in some of these rock bands, for good or ill – which may or may not be the result of the uninspired cover art. The Stolen Records seem to be at an impasse. One minute they are carelessly riffing on getting high, and in the next ADD minute, they are waxing relationships using economic theory. The result is off kilter, a tad unpredictable and sometimes quite sweet when all the elements fall into place earnestly (“Tequilla Reggae”). It’s music begging to be let out of the dorm room.

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