Grails
Deep Politics
Temporary Residence Limited

On Deep Politics, Grails’ oft-meditative instrumentation is dressed with an orchestral, cinematic ruching thanks in large part to the efforts of fiddler and composer Timba Harris (Master Musicians of Bukkake). Harris’ involvement on this album helps the Portland quartet wrap their avant-garde post-rock in celluloid and story-telling, and the overall effect is a dynamic soundtrack to curtains blowing in an empty room, cigarette smoke swirling under a lamp post on a rainy night, an empty bottle of desire hitting the floor after a passionate fight, or the bone-chilling glint of a slashing knife. This intricate score of crescendo noir works as both silent beauty and heavy terror, bandying about effluent sci-fi (“Future Primitive”), Italian craftsmanship (Bruno Nicolai’s “All the Colors of the Dark”), blushing romanticism (“Deep Politics”), prog-infused action (“Almost Grew My Hair”), and high-noon drama (“I Led Three Lives”) effortlessly, seamlessly, and extravagantly. Deep Politics doesn’t quite contain the mean zen of albums past, but it’s a creatively rich and enjoyable experience nonetheless. And remember, Grails nuts, the attraction that is Black Tar Prophecies Vol. 5 is supposed to be coming soon.

Listen to “Daughters of Bilitis” from Deep Politics!

The Nuclears
The Nuclears
MegaPlatinum Records

Sometimes you come across a band too big for their platform boots, a gang of cigarette suckers with stars for eyes who’ll turn any storage closet in any bar into their own personal dressing room. The singer’s got a $150 scarf wrapped around his neck even though he looks like he can’t afford to eat. He’s all ribs, eyeliner, and petulant posturing while his band plays the dutiful, leather-jacketed longhairs, masters of their bloozy craft. The Nuclears are that band. Or they fucking sound like it, anyway. And while there’s no doubt that this New York-by-way-of-Washington band’s sound drips with elements of a champagne n’ limousine glam rock, it’s the raw power and punk rock attitude that really propels this self-titled debut, making it a drunken, desperate mess of rock n’ roll energy. Flat out, this album sizzles the second it drops, it’s first half a shakin’ jukebox of ragged riffs and shout-along glory; there’s not a song amongst “Pay Yer Dues,” “Get Me Outta Here,” “A Blindfold & A Cigarette,” “Get Up!,” and “Tanzen Macht Frei” that hasn’t been touched by a handful of essentially influential bands like The Ramones, The Stooges, early Aerosmith, and Hanoi Rocks. Now, the train could’ve kept a-rollin’ right along and everything would’ve been super fine, but the album’s second half goes off the tracks a bit thanks to a grouping of songs whose styles and sounds are all over the map. There’s not a bad song in the bunch, per se, but they don’t deliver the same flow and punch as the first-half songs; the near seven minute “Eclipso” has shades of Black Sabbath (particularly “Children of the Grave”) running throughout, “Fast Cars & Loud Guitars” and “Rock & Roll Riot” (both of which would’ve been totally at home on the first half) are gutter rock numbers that do The Dictators proud, “Turn On You” is an organ-fried gospel/soul song, and “You Can Make It” brings the Rolling Stones’ country n’ blues to life. Listen, all that second-half confusion aside, there’s something endearingly blue about The Nuclears, like a well-earned thigh bruise, and even though they’re not entirely new to the scene (ex-Drag Citizen singer Nick Vivid has some miles under him), they’re on the cusp of stumbling into a whole heap of hot action. And when that happens, brother, we’re gonna be dealing with one confident, bad-ass, braggadocios bunch.

Listen to “Get Me Outta Here” from The Nuclears!

Mothership
Eagle Soars Demo
Self-Released

Three-song demo from a Dallas family trio (that’s two bros and their dad!) who blast some low-pro mutton chop rock at you like filthy UFO exhaust. Full of deep woods boogie, bluesy fuzz n’ roll, chuggin’ Grand Funk-meets-AC/DC riffola, and play hard, party harder, get-ready-for-the-revolution lyrics, this demo panders to your inner basement hero; opener “City Nights” ought to incite barroom fuck-ups across the land into beating each other with their over-sized belt buckles, the title track delivers a choice cosmic metal groove, and “Mothership” barrels its way through rusty skies before giving in to the freak jam. Oh, there’s plenty of solos too, the kind that drove your mama crazy back in the day. Mothership might not be musical rocket science, but they do give up some good, honest, burly action.

Listen to “Eagle Soars” from the Eagle Soars Demo!