Ugly Motors-s/t CS (2013)

Yet another review I have to start by apologizing to the band for taking so long to review. This is the sort of twitchy garage rock perfect for getting wasted on a Wednesday afternoon. Crude, single-note guitar riffs, holler-yawled vocals, and drums so primitive that "ramshackle" is pretty complementary.

If you've been reading DrugPunk for any length of time, you know that's just the sort of sound we go for in these here parts. This is clearly a bunch of friends getting trashed and playing music they love: crude, stumble-bum at times, but fucking fun. And who gives a shit about the rest of it, really?-rock 'n' roll has always been about being brash enough to make a lotta noise, technical proficiency be damned.

Which is to say, Ugly Motors will be the soundtrack to many a bender around here. The wanna-be-menacing riff of "Is That a Knife in your Pocket?" is particularly appealing, especially since it dissolves into hollered dissonance every time it runs the risk of becoming something other than a, well, wanna-be-menacing riff. "My Dead Asian Brother" manages to hold it together long enough to be a well-conceived exercise in crude pop songwriting: squalling yet tuneful guitars, barely-melodic singing, and a rhythm section that discretely keeps charging ahead despite it all.

Like I said, perfect for a Wednesday afternoon bender. Start yours here!

Marked Men/Birthday Suits-Seven Inches for your Ex split EP (2009)

Denton, Texass' The Marked Men are one of the best garage punk bands of the last ten years. If you haven't heard them yet (what's wrong with ya? Seriously.), this is as good an introduction as any.

"Lost it All" opens with a sick, chugging guitar riff to introduce a tale of, well, losing it all, apparently in a fight. The bouncy rhythm will keep you either dancing or shuffling in place, depending on your hangover level this fine Saturday morning. Marked Men have been playing together for years, and it's amazing how focused the instruments are: no excess notes, no errant snares, nothin' but trebly, nervous hooks. "Oh My Pretty Face" slows it down a bit; it almost sounds like a pisstake on a Buzzcocks song.

Minneapolis' Birthday Suits contribute two songs to their side, "Jarrasha Be" and "It's About Time." "Jarrasha Be" could be a Go-Gos outtake: it has that big, boisterous beat I associate with Benatar & CO., but the guitar and vocals are all snarling, razor-wire punk nastiness. "It's About Time" is more contorted garage punk.

The EP is sold out, but check out Nice & Neat Records for other cool stuff. Blow yr eardrums out with Marked Men & Birthday Suits HERE.

Tiny Swimmers-Spurtin' Spirit EP (2012)

The email sending this my way concluded with this cryptic epigram:

"1 shot grain alcohol + 1 shot nyquil (red) + 1/2 bottle 5 hour energy = THE BRAIN DRAIN

drink it out of an empty shampoo bottle and you have yourself a CHACHI PITTMAN"

Er, yes. Minneapolis' Tiny Swimmers toss together psychedelic guitar riffs, bursts of distortion, and the odd synthesizer beat on their debut EP. The result is an often-confusing confection that works on some fucked up level I still can't figure out.

"Hey You Guys" makes you think they're doing some sort of videogame-core electronica mess, as it's followed by "Jimmy Stewart's Elephant Room," which is just noisy guitar and an insistent electric beat that for some reason makes me think of some Big Boys tune, maybe ""We Got Your Money" minus the mob choruses. "Hot Ass Bedroom" manages the difficult feat of combining harmonica with glitch beats. With mixed success.

Altogether it sounds like Tiny Swimmers is reaching for a sound that hasn't quite yet crystallized. Parts of this work, parts of it don't. It's worth a spin, so do it here.

Miami Dolphins-Neon and Foam LP (2011)

Last time I was in Olympia, everyone was raving about Minneapolis' Miami Dolphins, so I finally decided to see what all the hubbub was about.

"Neon and Foam" isn't breaking any new paths, but it certainly is fun. I call this genre contortion punk, since the Dolphins and akin bands take 4/4 punk song structures, chop 'em up into strangled guitar notes and spastic drumming, and piece them back together in confetti fashion.

The Dolphins remind me of Chicago's late, much-missed (by me, anyway) Coughs: high-pitched female vocals, frantic guitar that usually doesn't go in for solos, and drums mixed well to the front. They're not nearly as harsh as Coughs were, though: this sounds like the sort of music noise scene veterans would play if you spiked their 4Loko with ecstasy, took 'em to an amusement park, and set up a 4track on the carousel.

But don't take my word for it, find out for yercelf.