 Hailing
from Tucson, Ariz. but skronkin' along like a hooched up buncha crazy eyed
Texan bastids, The KP's exist in a vortex of the finest wham bam
Rock'n'Punk'n'Roll traditions kicking up whole mountains of dust hootin'
and hollerin charging around like The Light Brigade, but actually winning
with their own barraging massacre of frantic fusillades neatly summed up
by the aptly titled "My Initial Salvo" and the cannonading Bo Diddley beat
of "Confused". Such vibrant amphetamine cranked carousers are tempered
with Big star / Beatles melodies especially on the Jam style That's Why,
Trust Fund Rock (where I'm sure you can hear a dog bark in the background
- very Brian Wilson) and closer End Has Just Begun - check the way the
voxist slips into scouse (but hopefully not a shellsuit) on "begun" and
"done" - he'll be all head shaking thumbs up aimless cheeriness annoyance
soon, Eh, our kid, don't do it - altho truth be told that's kinda like
tempering scotch with bourbon. This slight schizophrenia is fought out on
the swaggering stagger of opener "Reject Button" where the singer sounds
as biblious and bilious as Mark E. Smith whilst almost simultaneously
managing to conjure up the lost soul of Bobby Gillespie's fey indie boy
rocker of his late 80's incarnation. From a Who whirlwind intro which sees
them narrowly miss lurching down a cavernous gorge and becoming Highway
Star(s), held back by the bassist calling for a time out before hauling
them by the scruffs of their dirty necks like a protective mother lion
with her cubs on a lumbering riff and on into the clanking Radio
BirdmanDamnedStooge (more than a splash of Search and Destroy here) slam
catapulted along on Nicky Turner drumming and gnashing Brian James
guitars. And on thru a flash flood half hour of lightning bar blasted
vehement, trashy tho tight as hell, inspired and unbridedly spirited
tuneful punkaroll to come to a sprawling end (well, sprawling for these
fuckers anyway at 3:52) in the rough hewn mini Television psychfest epic
of End Has Just Begun, building to a platform for the geetarist to
exercise his fingers a little. And that's a slight wee factor in what
makes this such a damn good record - The KP's combine a classic pop noise
- be that Brian Wilson, the Go-Go's or The Barracuda's - with their own
lyrical angle, and pretty top notch playing before slinging em together
almost carelessly in a fast, furious, brash, vital wreckin brawl, leaving
em to it while spinning the 4-track to record the whole rough and ready
results.. and they still come out shining full of essential Heartbreakers
dash. Classic. Neat, Neat, Neat indeed. And they also have a good line
about deciding what boots to wear before a show. While this is apparently
meant to be derisive I disagree. Boots are good. |