With the rain pissing down and the leaves turning brown and falling back to the soil from whence they came, we figure it was a good week to dredge out some decidedly overcoat-wearing tunes to help us wallow in our fall slump as we patiently await the return of an Indian Summer (either the season or the band). So grab a glass of spiked cider and get ready to get bummed out.
Our first gang of deviants this week is Vancouver's Sex Church “Dead End” b/w “Let Down” on Sweet Rot Records, their first proper release after a ludicrously limited tour cassette. This lot fly directly into the heart of the moon on J. Spaceman wings, igniting a whirling turbine's worth of celestial skronk–a twisted visage of metal, sex and depravity viewed through a cracked, feedback-strewn J&MC lens. Simplicity is the name of their game on “Dead End”, which blows by on a triumphant three-chord stomp on its way to the gallows-rock graveyard, replete with a Bauhaus shirt shot full of holes and a gigantic handful of pink-and-purple pills. Flipside “Let Down” finds them unable to get out of bed (literally,
lyrically-speaking), assumedly because they're too depressed listening to the tune's minor-key muffle and sham-shock cadence to actually be able to see the light at the end of their own dismal sonic tunnel. Still available from the label and good shops everywhere.
Following that, we've got Philly's relatively unheralded Hot Guts and their Ballad of Jon Simon EP on Badmaster Records. Haven't seen too much scrawled about this one yet, which is a mystery as its mix of gothic synth-sputter, garroting death-rock riffs and just plain oddness makes it a keeper in our books (one reason could be that it was released in tandem with the Drunkdriver/Mattin 12″ that people
are going apeshit over). The three songs here walk a tension wire over a gaggle of familiar influences (Joy Division/Sisters of Mercy/a wee bit of Throbbing Gristle) but manage the deft trick of incorporating, yet never emulating, any of them. In particular, the gallows humorous B-Side “Did You Not Go to the Dance Alone?” buzzes with a feral energy that uses minor-key guitars and haunting buried synth melodies as a conduit for their maudlin aggression and subtle theatricality. Pick it up from the label, or your favorite purveyor of the phonographic arts.
Our last bunch of droogs this week are Lansing, Michigan's The People's Temple and their Eponymous EP on Milk 'n' Herpes Records. Hailing from the fertile breeding ground of MI (Majesty Crush, anyone?), we had some very high space-rock hopes for this bedraggled troupe, however, they eschew their phaser-laden heritage for an altogether dronier sound that's heavy on the VU worship, with some psychedelic bits and bobs tossed in for good measure. There's lots of
good ideas floating through the four songs here (it's cut at 33rpm), however, they never seem to full develop into anything truly memorable, so they come across as either embryonic songlets or, at their lesser moments, half-baked hero worship–more Brian Jonestown Massacre than Cheater Slicks. Still available direct from the label.
That's all the scuzz that's fit to print this week. But hit us up again next week, perhaps we'll have figured out why we woke up with seaweed in our hair by then.
