The reviews below were written by Amarillo recording artists
the ZIP CODE RAPISTS. The San Francisco-base duo features Gregg
Turkington (vocals, tape loops) and Jon Singer (guitar, bass,
Optigan, keyboards, vocals). For information on ZCR recordings,
contact Amarillo Records, P.O. Box 24433, San Francisco, CA
94124.
Orange
Gregg - This has some of the hallmarks of the "indie
rock" sound (over-calculated, over-confident, lousy vocals)
but unlike most of the gang, they make some attempt at dynamic
range, which at least brings them into the realm of things
that do not deserve to be rejected outright. (A realm in which
they spend only a few moments in, before being rejected.)
John - Two things here (besides just being a good ROCK
album, the kind that would work in a country bowling alley
on a Friday night). First, it makes me think of "getting it
on." Second, on a recent ZCR tour, promo posters for this
release were on the wall of a majority of people that let
us crash at their house after shows. A good omen.
The Battle for Space
Gregg -- Third-rate Blues Explosion, sometimes reminiscent
of early 80's lightweight punk, i.e. the Surf Punks. They sound
very upbeat and excited, but will they be able to keep up their
enthusiasm when Gerard stops taking their phone calls because
their record has sunk like a stone?
John -- This is ROCK, the kind where if I drink lots
of beer and hear it when I'm falling out a window I might shake
my toes. Somewhere someone is dancing and feeling good because
of this. Make a wish and drink a fifth, I knew this was about
drinking.
Wowee Zowee
Gregg - A fraudulent "indie-cred" band introduced through
a carefully orchestrated "grassroots" word-of-mouth campaign,
Pavement targets those eager beavers who are too intelligent/skeptical
to buy into the Smashing Pumpkins and Soul Asylum, but not intelligent/skeptical
enough not to buy into Pavement. A dear friend of mind burst
into tears at the Pavement show, overwhelmed by the diabolical
nature of their extreme mediocrity.
John - This is OK; sucks me in with Neil Young On
the Beach-style piano on the first song, and that's half
the battle. Then some distortion, squiggly guitars, that voice,
and the weird songs. I'll usually go with it even if most of
the people I know love to complain about them. But are these
the Gold Sounds forever?
Gone Glimmering
Gregg - My apologies to Pavement! This one is truly bad,
not even worth considering or discussing. They must be Gerard's
friends from way back, and he's too nice to say "no." (Personal
note to Chavez: It's not nice to take advantage of your friends.
Gerard is a good guy. Leave him alone or I'll have to beat you
up.) Gerard, what will you tell your new friends, like recent
Matador staff addition Carrie, when you are forced to lay them
off because dud releases like this have depleted your bank account?
John - It's ROCK again! Sometimes the vocals remind me
of GBV but I don't think these guys are from Ohio. They've found
their sound, they're going to stay with it. Better than Bailter
Space, they love pancakes.
Electr-O-Pura
Gregg - A weak effort from one of the immense multitude
of "innovative" bands that has sprung up during this uncharacteristically
fertile time in American music. Their musical influences are
obvious: their own previous records. Easily intimidated critics
will lazily rewrite Matador's press releases insuring this band
a permanent place in the temporary "Indie Rock Hall of Fame."
(The Hall will be shut down in 2007 due to lack of interest.)
John - They must have been on a train, they're there
when you're hungry. I like the overloaded keys and feedback
guitars, but not as much as on Painful. Ira spent a half
hour at one of our shows saying how we were no good, everything
that's wrong with rock. I still think they're OK, the "spirit
of..."
The Dirt of Luck
Gregg - This evokes feelings reminiscent of those experienced
when encountering a weak, runty kitten, born with a disease,
expected to die soon.
John - Goddamn it, I want to like them -- choruses that
almost haunt, words OK, sounds of today, and I try to relate.
But the show I saw just didn't nail it down. When I put it on
I turn it up loud, but no one I play it for seems to care. Is
it because the keyboards sound like Game Theory?
Gregg - I skipped right past the ten selling-point tracks
by the usual crew of Matador non-talents (as well as non-Matador
non-talents like Jesus Lizard and the Red House Painters) so
that I could check out the actual soundtrack, the original score
by Jeffrey Taylor and Ned Rifle. Are Jeffrey Taylor and Ned
Rifle pseudonyms for Dave Grusin and Enya? A bore.
John - Well, this will probably sell like most soundtrack
albums that come out. For the completists and texturalists in
the world.
18TH DYE
Tribute To A Bus
Gregg - The shamefully self-congratulatory liner notes
claim that the first song on this CD "has the effect of leaving
the listener wanting more, somehow giving promise to great things
ahead." Not true! In fact, the first song had the effect of
leaving this listener completely unwilling to listen to another
second of 18th Dye's trivial music. As to the "promise of great
things ahead," the next review item in my stack is a Guided
By Voices CD, so that part isn't true either.
John - Stop the liner notes, I willingly testify. It's
got that nice clear guitar and drum sound I like better on Silkworm
records. Slippery mass-vibrato, feedback, fuzz bass (so popular!)
they even say go fuck off.
Box (abridged)
Gregg - This is the spawn of a new deal linking Matador
Records with Scat Records. From what I've gleaned reading the
classified ad section of certain San Francisco publications,
the term "scat" can refer to eating shit, which is what Gerard
has apparently done by agreeing to finance the release of a
five CD/six LP box set of amateurish hogwash. What has been
added to the drinking supply? I remember when this type of second-rate
demo tape crap was thrown quickly into the trash by anyone unfortunate
enough to receive it (unsolicited) in the mail. Now, people
bandy about the term "genius" and herald low-budget recording
techniques as a guaranteed mark of music integrity.
John - What's the deal here? Fuck it, I don't care.
This is pop music disguised as "undie," it'll go some distance.
Brit accents permeate Ohio, but it's not the first time that
happened to an American. I like pop, so this is OK.
GUIDED BY VOICES
Alien Lanes
Gregg - What a dirty trick. Isn't five CDs enough? I
wish Matador had sent me something good in the box of promos
so I could exhibit the side of me that is genuinely thrilled
and inspired by a unique artistic vision. I guess it was more
important to unload another GBV CD to make more room in the
storage closet for paper towels.
John - The adventure continues, long tall-necks balance
in waving hands, a pop visionary. Sometimes it almost hits the
wall quick, there's so much to say. It sounds like they're trying
hard to sound like they're not trying hard, even more so than
the early days. I'm waiting for the tribute to Quadrophenia.
Fight Songs EP
John - First it's Vic Chesnutt with space noise, biscuits
and sweet breath. Is everything put straight into a four-track?
Maybe I'm wrong, maybe this is like the Brush of the Red House
or something. Will they get to release more than three songs?
18th Dye did...
RUN ON
On/Off EP
John - It's like this -- I'm at a club, just in from
a smoke and this band is playing. A couple of people in front
of me is a woman I want but can't have. The music starts and
she sways along to it, so I sway to it too. Especially during
the space parts. We're all almost there, I think we're getting
closer, go on, go on...they end and I go home alone again.
BAILTER SPACE
Wammo
John: - I'm going to go out on a limb here and say
that it didn't do much for me. After playing "Untied," we
started playing along with bongos and a harmonica, then "Splat"
came on and we knew the answer -- stop wasting our time. Somewhere
this will be a hit, but somewhere else.
THE FOR CARNATION - Fight Songs
RUN ON - On/Off
BAILTER SPACE - Wammo
Gregg - I've been around long enough to accurately recognize
obvious flops by reading the album and song title alone. I guess
I should probably take the 15 seconds out of my life to listen
to each of these records and give them a fair and thorough evaluation,
but I'm not going to.
One Track Mind
John - Are these the red SG's? Fender amps? I mean yeah,
turn it up loud and the right sounds can hit you -- it's breaking
up, click clack, voice through the far away, side to side pan,
wah wah. Different rock than ROCK. Steve Miller would say it's
their saving grace.
John - I came home drunk from the rehearsal space with
these words due in hours. This is what I have to say without
living with these sounds long, with my stomach bloated and sleep
calling. Help. A great idea, those zany Zip Code Rapists trashing
the new Matador product to show how tough and inside the label
can be. And what's worse is that I actually like some of this
stuff. Don't tell a soul, fuck my old corporate indie rock reference.
Cred lives.
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