Heard Here
UFO Romantics, Guitar Wolf
You know that any band that wears full leather outfits in what appears
to be Brazil for their album art doesnt mess around. You can practically taste all the sweat
and dirt and hair grease on this album. Even the most primitive sounding of the current rock
revival bands cant really touch Guitar Wolf. The attitude and brutal sound of the once
plentiful all-American garage band are all over this disc, which is funny because Guitar Wolf are
Japanese. Proof positive that the country that supposedly invented this whole rock and roll thing
could afford to come down off its high horse and take a look around.
What about the brazen rock attitude of The Strokes you say? Please. UFO Romantics has 100 percent
more feedback than Is This It. What about the lyrical quirkiness of The White Stripes? Forget it.
Guitar Wolf doesnt need major label record deals, slick production or even stereo recording
to know they are bad ass. The whole record sounds like it was recorded in mono, except for occasional
screaming that takes up both channels. And while too many hip neo-garage bands toy with lyrical
complexity, Guitar Wolf is refreshingly unrefined. Actually, they could be reciting Shakespeare
for all this reviewer knows, since all the lyrics are in Japanese except for the initial one,
two, three, four count off that precedes most of the songs, the occasional all right,
or baby and the song titles that serve as choruses. But what else do you need, really?
Who wants to pay attention to a full songs worth of lyrics when screeching feedback and shouts
of Alcohol Ace get the job done? Guitar Wolf seems to pull off the complete condensation
of all the right elements of rock and roll their peers seem to have forgotten as they get major
label record deals and MTV airtime. Rock and roll may not be dead quite yet, but its because
there are bands like Guitar Wolf to remind us how its done.
Derek Schleelein
In House We Trust 2, Behrouz & MV (Envy)
For most people, the only things that separate one DJ from the next are the songs that each DJ
plays. Thus, there exists the fallacy that anyone can be a DJ you just need to get your
hands on the right vinyl, and youre ready to hang with the big boys. More than anything else,
In House We Trust 2 shows that such a belief is just as absurd as your talentless friend saying,
Give me a guitar and Ill play you Purple Haze.
Because all of the material on this two-disc compilation is culled from the Yoshitoshi/Shinichi
labels back-catalogs, it represents somewhat of a controlled experiment in which Behrouz
and MV must mix their magic from similar source material. What results, then, is the sound of these
two up-and-coming DJs apart from their record bags their style, their feel, and their sense
of groove the things that truly separate one DJ from another.
According to Behrouz a good DJ tells a story, and his programming on disc one is indeed
quite a story. In what is undoubtedly one of the most contoured and daring mixes of the past year,
Behrouz traverses an impressive amount of musical ground everything from Narcotic Thrusts
Safe From Harm, to Humates Choose Life, to Chiapets Tick
Tock. It goes from Point A to Point Z and covers every one of the other 24 letter-points
in between. At times the set feels a bit rushed, but every clubber knows that 80 minutes is far
too short for a good story.
In complete contrast, MVs second disc is flat, lukewarm and utterly by the book. Though theres
no shortage of quality deep and tribal house tracks Morels Funny Car and
Rob Salmon & Rob Rives Body Talk stand out the disc never really does
anything; it never really goes anywhere. MV listlessly strings one record after another (killing
each groove in the process) without any sort of meta-perspective on the flow or the energy of his
set.
Ironically, then, the tracks on this Yoshitoshi label showcase take a back seat to the talent of
the DJs (or, their lack thereof). Each DJ had access to some of the finest house music around,
and yet Behrouz and MV demonstrate how little record collections can matter. What really comes
through is that the separation between great DJs and mediocre DJs rests in their knowledge of how
much to mix, when to mix and how to mix it. In other words, a good DJ knows how to tell a story.
Greg Teves
Love and Distortion, The Stratford 4
Its not surprising that The Stratford 4, a band whose lead-singer
and guitarist Chris Streng used to jam with future members of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club before
they formed their present line-up, would be inspired by a comparable set of stoney-eyed Brits from
across the pond. If theres anyone thats proved Anglophilia can be a good thing its
BRMC. The recent success of their self-titled debut married the best British rock in the last decade
with a distinctly American attitude. On their second LP, Love and Distortion, the Stratford 4 turn
a similar trick. My Bloody Valentine, the Jesus and Mary Chain, Ride and to a lesser extent, Spiritualized,
can all be found in Strengs mopey drawl and lead-guitarist Jake Hoseks church-bell
fuzz.
Though their debut, 2002s The Revolt Against Tired Noises, made use of both indie-pop attitude
and Brit-rock melodic sensibility, Love and Distortion places itself firmly in the realm of the
latter. The opening track is pure-grade Shoegaze. With Streng waxing existential and Hoseks
reverb-heavy six-string flying high, where the ocean meets the eye is the best song
Ride never wrote. The wistful romanticism of twelve months and tonight would
be alright are similarly satisfying, if a bit premature. And Strengs honesty on the
simple things are taking over and telephone is refreshing amidst his bands
turgid Brit-rock posing. The latter tunes description of a phone conversation between Streng
and his mother is especially endearing as she reminds her pop star son not to forget about Dylan
and the Stones, noting that when I was 22, I was a lot like you.
Only rarely, though, does Streng pull forth enough charisma to make his mates unremitting
psychedelia worthwhile. All too often Love and Distortion just sounds like a band throwing effect
after effect onto songs that would fail to stand alone without the reverb turned up to 11. Many
artists, including a few youd find in this crews record collection, made brilliant
records running everything but the kitchen sink through their amps, but The Stratford 4s
relentlessly layered sound fails to give their meek tunes much room to breathe.
If these four co-eds can add some dynamics and song-writing ability to their well-honed space-rock
sound, then we might get a record that actually goes somewhere worth seeing when the bands
epic fuzz soars above the cloud-line. But for now, we should at last be grateful that The Statford
4 are bringing back a Brit-rock sound young America has precious little experience with.
John MacDonald
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