ROARKE MENZIES

A couple of weekends ago I had a solid plan. Was going to go see some reborn '90s hardcore band in Oakland, then watch a high school crush in action back in San Francisco, then stop by an old haunt that I haven't visited in 15+ years (conveniently located on my route home) where my pal was spinning records. It was ambitious to be sure, but I am ambitious, the timing seemed right, and I figured I could squeeze all three events in. After an overpriced afternoon artisanal pizza, however, I found myself in the company of two people who wanted to do none of the things that I wanted to do and we were very much enjoying each other's company so....plans out the window and we found ourselves en route to a free jazz performance. A free jazz performance that turned out to be not a free jazz performance at all, but rather an experimental/noise/electronics show featuring a dude who also belongs to a free jazz outfit....and also this dude, who was halfway through his performance when we walked in the door. Roarke Menzies makes all of his sounds with his mouth and body, then spends each piece warping and manipulating those sounds with an array of pedals and effects, and watching him sink into his own world of sound was well worth missing out on all of the things I thought I was going to enjoy that evening. Sometimes accidents are the best. 

CORPOREAL

TAPE #55

You should just be able to read the spine on this one and know what's up. The HOMO PICNIC and 7 SECONDS sets are from around 1985 (they play "Just One Day" from New Wind, but it definitely seems like a new addition to the set), and it's good to hear HOMO PICNIC taking some jabs at the headliners between songs...7 SECONDS are straight fire on this recording by the way, positive and earnest and very fukkn real. CRO-MAGS demo has made the rounds forever (I honestly only included it here in the interest of presenting the cassette in its entirety); the URGENT FURY tracks are from the 1985 demo, one of the most underappreciated NY bands that I know of (these five songs were the A-Side of the Demos 1984-86 10" that Broken Rekkids reissued in the early '90s - highly recommended and still readily available in bargain bins around the US); and the BORN WITHOUT A FACE tracks will save you a cool $50 unless you need to hold the OG wax in your hand (and I kinda do). A relic from the tape trading days of the 1980s, collections like this used to be how people found new bands...you got one of these bad boys in the mail and you listened front to back, soaking everything in a mentally categorizing what clicked and what didn't to help guide you deeper into the unknown. The Unknown is good - it's full of wonder and discovery. And its way better than brainlessly filling up your hard drive....

TAPE #55

MEMBRANE

Ramshackle, distorted dupa-dupa from Brooklyn circa a few years ago. To be honest, I think that history will be unkind to this particular brand of raw hardcore punk, but good bands are still good bands, and I am sure that future ears will wisely acknowledge those that deserve acknowledgement. So, almost four years removed from the release of this creamer I am asking you to blast "Noose" and ask yourself where MEMBRANE fall in the historical judgement-o-meter......or perhaps we just need to get shithoused and keep listening for a few more years before we can really decide. 

MEMBRANE

SKY JUICE

Wandering solo guitar missives that sometimes border on Americana (in the way Higgs does, but here with more drugs), the first SKY JUICE release in several years makes the return of Fag Tapes to TE even more pleasant than you might expect. There are a couple of short bursts of blown out hardcore to keep you on your toes, but for the most part the thirty minutes that make up The Black Tapes are calming and whimsical. Favorite track: the third one. 

THE BLACK TAPES

SPACE IS HAUNTED

Lurching slogs, lumbering forward with unmistakable and endearing determination. 

Analogies abound.

SPACE IS HAUNTED

BACKWARDS MESSAGE

You like punk music, right? Cool. This is punk music. It's harsh and it's raw and it's angry. That's how you like your punk music, right? Cool. because that's how this sounds. You're welcome. 

BACKWARDS MESSAGE

THE CRAMPS

I don't really need to put words on the internet about THE CRAMPS, do I? Honestly, they never really did it for me. I get it, their place in the annals of over-the-top sensational punk and glam was cemented long before I knew who they were, and eternal cheers for shoving their cross dressing make up wearing asses in the collective lap of the sketchy skinhead retirement club known as "rockabilly." So here you go....some tracks from '83, a few from '78 and a live set from sometime around the same era. 

MYSTERY GUEST

LUCID TERROR

Raw and primal black grind from New York. It's just....ugly. Elements of cro-magnon death metal, but I feel like these mutants are, in their heart of hearts, pure grind freaks. No bullshit here, nothing special. Just filth and dirt and a distortion that comes from pushing too hard (as opposed to trying too hard....you get me?). Do it....

WHIP IT TIL YOU FAINT

NAMATAY SA INGAY

The second demo from these NYC punks is even more vicious than the first. Tough as nails and desperately fierce, the five tracks on this tape are a perfect example of what happens when you do it right and you do it with intensity..."Room 11" is so simple if you break down the parts, but holy shit is that track powerful. And the intro for the closer "Kalma Konsensya" seems like the band is trying to reign it in for effect but they are still dying to break loose - this is an energy that carries into the slower chorus riff of the song as well, and it's an energy that you can't fake. You have it or you don't....and NAMATAY SA INGAY have it. 

THIRD WORLD BASTARDS OF NEW YORK

Physical copies from Aklasan Records...

BUTTZZ

Feisty and catchy garage punk with '90s college radio hooks, but delivered with the bombastic distorted fury that the cover implies. M.O.T.O. meets D-CLONE? Yeah.....

BUTTZZ

SCUZZ

I was spinning the new SCUZZ full length a few days ago and I thought "damn - this is even better than the tape." And then I went home and pulled this creamer out of the pile and I thought "damn - it's a good thing I don't have to choose." I'm not here to tell you that one is better than the other, because they are both oozing with cream. I'm not here to tell you that cerebral mutant hardcore is awesome, because you already know that. SCUZZ come from the weird part of New York, the part that gave us ECFU, ACID REFLUX, ANAL WARHEAD and a host of others...I miss going there on the regular. 

SCUZZ

CAGES

Buffalo duo CAGES have been wowing and confusing me for a decade. Dark and mesmerizing sounds that move from hypnotic electronics to avant-folk and then they travel to other places with a confidence that is terrifying. Describing CAGES would be nearly impossible, even for someone who talks as much as I do...but this collection of recordings is a pure motherfukkr. Listen to "If It Flies, It Dies" at maximum volume and you will never be the same. The minutes will take years off of your life, and still feed you.

COMPLAINT AND RIOTS WE SHOULD LEAVE TO CATS

Find CAGES here....their entire recorded output is celebrated at TEHQ (though, admittedly, the celebrations are mostly on special occasions....occasions that demand introspection and emotion) and the live experience is not of this world.

PORVENIR OSCURO

I don't know if you are ready for this. I wasn't. Yet, here I am...having a mental pogo party before I've even put my shoes on. Don't believe me? Just listen to to the organ as it fades in...and wait for the "EXORCISMO!!!!" that opens the first track. Yeah, you're partying. This shit is mandatory. 

PORVENÍR OSCURO

DREAM JOURNAL

Smart and snappy modern day alt rock. That sounds like a slag off, but I mean to say that this is the '10s version of the infectious and underground sounds that ushered us not-in-the-know punks through the '80s. This is SUPERCHUNK, this is SQUIRREL BAIT, this is SST-era SCREAMING TREES for the new kids. DREAM JOURNAL are also really fukkn good. 

COMPETITIVE EATER SONGS

TWO MILLION TONS OF SHIT // LIMBS BIN

Eleven minutes of power electronics and punishment from LIMBS BIN. Eleven minutes of industrial shitcore and punishment from TWO MILLION TONS OF SHIT. You choose, you lose, you're welcome. 

LIMBS BIN // TWO MILLION TONS OF SHIT

DOG BREATH

When your demo starts with a track called "Punx Up Bros Down," then you've got my attention before I press play. Of course, I was pressing play the day after I saw these New York City monsters level the joint at last month's Aklasan Records Fest - on a night filled with highlights, DOG BREATH were a fukkn bulldozer. Pure and positive brutality with hints of classic NYHC buried in the tracks - tracks that are relentless. Listen to the bass that opens "Chow Mein" and the off kilter stomp that leads into the blasts, that in turn lead into the weirdest solo you'll hear all day....you might know the sounds, but you rarely hear them like this. More please. 

II

NEWISH STAR

When punks decide to play shamelessly catchy indie/punk, The Punks are supposed to shame them...right? Listen to these tracks and fukkn TRY to deny them. I dare you. You will fail. They will suck you in. You will fail....and these songs will become a part of you. And then you will be a winner. Vocals are almost on a John K. Samson level (yeah, I know, but they are that endearing), and the ability to write a perfect pop song in less than two minutes and then just leave it there - because that's all you need? That's a special thing, kids, and it will keep you coming back to these tracks over and over again. Groovy and friendly and very very sweet. We need these things sometimes. 

LOOK BOTH WAYS

DRMCRSHR

"Nihilist Queer Revolt Musik" - Hard to express what a mindfuck the DREAMCRUSHER set in New York was. Noise. Blinding noise in a pitch black room with a piercing strobe pointed directly at the (small) audience. Everything was in slow motion, and I was disoriented before the beats started....and then it started. That shrill daemon that had punctuated our show with insane outbursts and generally bizarre behavior all night....now it had a microphone, and now it had control. First there was the spectacle, and then it was enteractive....and I spell that with an "e" because The Entity I Will Call: DRMCRSHR was in your fukkn shit before you knew what was happening. One minute there was screaming in your face, then the lights went off and before you could see again there were two men rolling on the floor in a passionate embrace. I have, perhaps, never been that fukkd by a live performance. Reality and imagination were interchangeable, and it was as if, in between the rapid fire blinks of those lights, anything was possible. The sounds are relentless hi NRG techno/acid house distorted beyond anything approaching reasonable, and even out of the context of the live experience I highly recommend DRMCRSHR. But.....in the flesh. So much flesh. Listening to this tape as I type, I'm reminded how off balance I was when things returned to normal...the lights came up and sense of surroundings slowly returned - but those of us in that room went somewhere. If you're reading this, DRMCRSHR: you fukkn did it. Don't stop. 

HACKERS ALL OF THEM HACKERS

Oh yeah...OF COURSE the motherfukkr is originally from Kansas...

DEATH VACATION // THUMBSCREWS

Sometimes you're at work and a dude from another Union hands you a couple of tapes and says "I think you might like these." And sometimes that dude is correct. Distorted and bombastic HC from New York and Rhode Island, respectively; remorseless and relentless power from both.

DEATH VACATION // THUMBSCREWS

Physical copies from: Serenity Now Tapes

CHAIN GANG GRAVE

This slab is beyond damaged. From the first metallic guitar wails you just know you are in for something...and you are right. My brain was ready for King/Hanneman by way of modern noisepunk, because that's the foundation that the opening seconds of this demo laid, but then my brain spent the remainder of "Green Star Eye!" watching itself ooze out of my ears while those ears struggled to fit everything inside. A brutal slog, that opening track is a midpaced pulverization with a cresting wave of sonic destruction. CHAIN GANG GRAVE reinvent the fukkn wheel here, it's like a mess of modern studded leather punks force fed a diet of '90s AmRep...there's so much tonnage here it's indescribable, and the presentation grabs you right out of the gate. The term "certified Banger" was invented for offerings like this one.

BURY THEM AND KEEP QUIET