Bulls Eye Dirt/ Bates Motel –Stockholm
Rock City4 song split 7”
33 rpm (Feedback Boogie)
Goddamn. There are only 9 million people in Sweden, but they’ve got 6 million sleaze rock bands. With that kind of uncontrolled rock infestation going on, you figure there’s gotta be some fool’s gold cluttering up the holy riff mountains of Stockholm Rock City. I mean, some of these fuckers have to be faking it, right? Yeah, probably. Definitely a few. Not these two bands, though. These here cats are gonna show you what the Swede fuzz-flash shangalang is all about, baby.
Splits can be rough stuff for fragile rock star egos, because somebody’s
always gonna end up being the ‘A’ Side, but Bulls Eye Dirt and Bates Motel
have neatly side-stepped any green eyed calamity by sharing both sides of
the single – 4 tracks, two sides, one after the other in a Mobius strip of
sweat n’ swagger. Good form, and it works like a charm here, as both bands
compliment each other nicely. Bulls Eye Dirt is the clear arena-bound
band, and their tracks come on like a cock rock Scorpions, with dive
bombing flash metal guitars and overdriven fuzz-punk and a finely tuned
sense for the understated pop hook. Killer stuff, and their a-sider “Hot
Chicks” is such a scorching blast of hi-test action rock that I’m still
trying to scrape the blood off the goddamn walls in my office. Bates Motel, on the other hand, mix street punk and glam rock with hook-heavy choruses, and the result is equally stellar. These cats even pull off a pretty convincing Yank accent on the shoutalongs, too. B-side opener “Never Going Back” is the standout track, a raucous, instantly memorable, pissed-off anti-anthem that’s bound to find it’s way to hipster bar jukeboxes the world over. If the original Manic Street Preachers were as ballsy as they were mouthy, they might’ve sounded somethin’ like Bates Motel.
Great single. It’s been out for a bit, so snatch one for yourself before all the good time kids get ‘em.
The
Fitts- I Have to Laugh (When I see U Hurt)/Girls Like U (Deserve 2 die)/
(Maybe He’s) Not So Smart/ Contaminated (By Your Dick)4 song 7”
45 rpm (Big Neck)
Despite the 2’s and the U’s that might make you think otherwise, The Fitts do not sound a goddamn thing like Prince. And despite the bitchin’ torso shot of every metal chick I ever struck out with between 1983 and 1989, they ain’t no girl-glam band, either. So, who and what are they? The chick from the Lost Sounds- you know, the ‘blackwave’ garage stompers outta Memphis- gets together with a bunch of like-minded crazy girls with guitars. They write a buncha parentheses-heavy songs about cutting off their boyfriend’s balls, and wrap it around raw, screaming, stripped-down, punch and roll. And there you fuckin’ go. I’m not sure if it’s empowering or just overkill, but it’s one hell of a screechfest, I tell ya that much. If Tormentula gave up the black metal for primal garage rock, they’d sound almost as noisy as the Fitts.
I am left with one pensive question. Did co-producer Jay Jay make it home from this session in one piece? Somebody ought to call his momma, cuz these girls sound dangerous.
The Ponys – Wicked City/ Little Friends2 song 7”
45 rpm (Big Neck)
A filthy, fuzz-worm guitar winds it’s way through the sleazy garage punk of the Ponys’ ultra-mega a-side, “Wicked City”. Not only have I been there, I am streetwalkin’ with this Chi-town power trio right now, and it’s a hot night in the neon ghetto, brother. “Little Friends” adds a little Cramps psychosis and Calliope (?) organ to the punk stripper grind, but keeps from getting it’s threads too wrinkled. Swank. Any band that I might compare these cats to are either so hopelessly obscure you’d never get it (Wreck n’ the Crew, anyone?), or probably only exist in my head, so lemme just say, the Ponys fuckin’ rock, Jack. They’ve got a CBGB’s 1975, black-eyed, needle glam cool to ‘em, except they just happen to be reasonably young, reasonably good looking, and in the exact right place at the right time, so instead of puking behind dumpsters for a living they way bands like this used to do, they’re gonna go ahead and make a million fuckin’ dollars one swanky single at a time. Then they’ll start puking behind dumpsters, but it’ll just seem charming at that point. Listen, you wanna be first or last to ride the Ponys? Thought so. So go get it.
Rickshaw/Bad
Machine 4 song spit 7”
45 rpm
Well, right on. This one’s like a late night phone call from a couple of good friends with bad accents. Rickshaw blaze through two KISS meets the phantom of Johnny Thunders action rockers with their usual verve and aplomb. “Get Your Action” is the Saturday night fightin’ anthem, and “Cry Baby Cry” cleans up the mess on Sunday morning. These fuckers go from strength to strength, and this one is just a bullet right to the reptile brain. Smoking. Bonus points for having a personally autographed Kitten Natividad pic to use for the cover. Of course, Kitten’s signing 35 year old photographs at this point, but I reckon the 70 year old sex bomb has lost a little luster over the years. I’d probably still do her, though. And if I ever find myself slumming in Hollywood, I probably will.
Finnish biker glam sensations Bad Machine let it rip on the flipside with their signature cock rock world shaker “Liberation Scheme” (also on their monstrous “Rip Your Heart” LP), and a previously unreleased motorpunkin’ rave-up “Fun Fun Fun”. Oh, and it surely is. I’m a big fan of both of these bands, and nothing about this single is making me feel any different. The rock rolls on.
Seizures-
The First Strike 3 song 7”
33 rpm (Street Cred)
I’m no pussy or nothin’, but the Seizures look like 50 miles of bad trouble to me. A German band with an iron cross/Satan logo and “8 Years of Pure Misanthropy” for a motto, with a lead singer named Arno L Wolf, on an Australian label called “Street Cred”? Christ, man, make sure you know exactly where the exit doors are when these hellhounds come rolling into town. Ah, but despite the overall bare- knuckled thug appeal of the Seizures, it’s really just rock and roll they’re preaching about, baby. That and busting people’s noses. Musically, it’s catchy street rock stuff with a suitably manic Meteors vibe chugging along under the surface (they even cover the dirtbilly legends’ “Fire Fire” on the b-side), real raise your glass and scream along kinda rabble rousing punk. Best o’ the bunch is “Break My Bones”, an evil, reverb-heavy Stooges/Cramps-y creepy crawler, but all three tracks rock plenty, ‘specially when Sir DM lays down a Dick Dale-on-PCP solo. Get beyond the ‘pool cues smashing skulls’ vibe, and the Seizures are a piping hot rock n roll band. Just don’t look at them directly in the eyes, or they’ll kill you.
Available from: Swamp Room, Flight 13, Raucous Shop