Dot Dash-s/t LP (Totally Wired, 2013)

What can I say about an Austrian band that does  a pisstake on one of Johnny Cash's best and manages not only to not insult the Man in Black, but also does the tune justice, in the band's own incredibly idiosyncratic way? Tell you that they're good, that's what. Vienna's Dot Dash sound the way late November feels: playful in a somber sorta way. Like, it's cold now but fuck the Danube's gonna freeze soon and man I don't wanna leave my apartment but shit I REALLY won't wanna go outdoors in January, so I might as well go out while I can still get outta bed before 9 am.
The point is that winter's coming, folks, and this is one of the only good post-punk LPs I've heard in this beshitted year of Our Lord, 2013. There's a fundamental tension between work and play in Dot Dash's sound that they never resolve, intentionally, I think. After all, that was the question at the heart of the original bands' work, right?: Gang of Four, the Au Pairs, et. al., were always demanding that you answer for yourself the question, "revolution or drugs?" "good times or doing something that matters?"

Retrogressive snark aside, Dot Dash does the lilting, Leeds ca. '79 sound full justice on this LP. The winter gloom progressively darkens as the album moves forward: "Freeze" is trite, "No" simply confusing, "Care" fucking discombobulating, but by "Shy" we're in fully disconcerting territory. The singer barks out "I like watching things on TV" over numb, insistent minor-note guitar and Bauhaus-style riddim. The song mourns without stewing in gloom. The bassline of "Voodoo" is sinuous, menacing enough that I could probably listen to it alone without the slow-burn guitarwork. Sure it sounds like  Joy Div outtake, but at this point I'd rather listen to Dot Dash than Peter Hook & the Light. "Escape" could be the best track of the LP: a staccato, stop-start beat, talk-singing vox not unlike the great, majestic Sally Timms..

Anyways, look for this one on my year-end best-of list. Check it out, then buy it, HERE. Brought to ya care of Totally Wired Rex.

Tonfiski Olja-s/t EP (2013)

Well, there's just no telling what the kiddies is gonna come up with these days, is there? For example: Tonfiski Olja, from eastern Finland. Most readers associate Finland with a robust, and robustly entertaining, hardcore punk scene. Among other gems, Finnish punks brought us aviator bands as a fashion accessory (look it up), as well as a horde of great bands I won't bother naming. Tonfiski Olja, however, is having none of that homegrown noisepunk slop.
That ain't what we got here. Tonfiski Olja's four tracks fall somewhere between a garage punk band still mastering its instruments and Submission Hold. I don't know if anyone remembers the latter band but T.O. reminds me of the contorted, plodding post-punk S.H. was dishing out around 2000. It's a strange mixture of juvenile punk rage and more complex song structures, and I still can't decide if it works. "Korrosio" is the best song here: spitfire drumming and simple, propulsive guitarwork that the singer shouts and howls over in blistering Finnish. Then there's the inevitable quasi-breakdown that you can't drag your knuckles to because it's a bit too clever for that. That's just it: when you think T.O. is a bunch of caveman ponx, they end up being clever songwriters. This band is just going with their instincts, and in an age when everyone is doing their best to sound like someone else, I commend that.

Get into it HERE.

Belgrado-self/titled LP (2012)

On the third night of a four-evening bender, I decided it would be a good idea to watch that Warren Beaty flick, "Reds." Yup, it had me in tears watching the situation unfold in the '10s. It got my so worked up emotionally, I hadda go get blackout drunk on the beach with my Marxist buddies. Seriously, we're coming up on the centenary of Red Oktober, and who but us weirdoes, punks, and losers will commemorate that anniversary?

Whatever, Belgrado is a distinguished representative of the deathpunk/postpunk/whateverthefuckpost- revival sweeping the globe these days. I still can't tell if this band is for real or just faking the funk, but whatever, I'm gonna give 'em the benefit of the doubt. Either way, they do a pretty good version of Gang of Four with female vocals. I'm guessing they cribbed the cover art from some WWII photo+photoshop. Plus they throw in that aesthetic touch of biting The Mob hardcore. No Doves Fly Here. Punk as fuck, right? Who cares. This band does a much more interesting version of ripping off a dead style than a lot of their contemporaries do. That's all.

Hang out with Belgrado then stay tuned for next month's installment of this blog, wherein your humble narrator relates his escapades abroad and/or in the Malian revolution for Tuareg independence. By staying home and guzzling gin and chompin' on Xanax, 'natch.

*Edit, 12.12.13: I re-up'd the file, so get it HERE, geeks.*

Useless Eaters-Addicted to the Blade 7" (2012)

If you read Drug Punk and don't listen to Useless Eaters, you very well may live under a rock. Whatever, this 7", Seth Sutton's most recent, is as good an introduction as as any to his idiosyncratic songcraft.

"Addicted to the Blade" is built around an infectious guitar groove and Sutton's bratty, Class of '77 snarling whine. I think he's singin' about some girl he's in like with, go figure. The bridge has one of the best smart-dumb bass chords and guitar mini-riffs I've heard in months. In the background is an ethereal synth line, I think.

"Starvation Blues #2" is the sort of rigid funk produced by Brit post-punks like 23 Skidoo, Josef K., et. al.: repetitive, wobbly bass, chugging drums, slightly harmonized vox. Sweet, dood.

Check it out here. [password is "cantaloupe"]. Then buy the 7" at Midheaven, here. Useless Eaters is touring the eastern USA this summer, here are the tour dates.

I'm reblogging this from Iamtheleastmachiavellian blog, which you should be following if you aren't already.

*EDIT, 9.9.12: REupd the file, HERE. *