Buy the Ticket is a four song EP from She Rides, Providence, Rhode Island’s drunk tornado of junkyard rock and biker metal, whose label, Rusty Knuckles Records, is home to such hideous outlaws as ANTiSEEN and Crank County Daredevils, so you know the kind of cocaine and gasoline fun you’re gonna get here. It’s been about three years since their self-titled debut, so the fact that there’s only four songs means they had to stuff an awful lot of sleaze into each one of ‘em for maximum effect, and I’ll be damned if the whole thing isn’t as bloated as a dead possum who overdosed on a lethal mix of Ironboss, The Misfits, Peter Pan Speedrock, and Damn 13. Take one Hunter S. Thompson reference, a bunch of nasty riffs, and the words party, piss, and dude, and you’ve got an EP aimed to tickle saggy-titted trailer trash in that special spot usually reserved for their cousin’s greasy shotgun.
The Coathangers Larceny & Old Lace
Suicide Squeeze Records
There is never anything very serious about The Coathangers’ business, which usually involves making one hell of a sarcastic ruckus by fusing no-wave fuss and riot-grrrl attitude, and coming up with song titles like “Don’t Touch My Shit,” “Shut the Fuck Up,” “Nestle in my Boobies,” “Gettin’ Mad and Pumpin’ Iron,” and “Arthritis Sux.” I mean, they’re not called The Coathangers because they like coathangers, ya dig? And having taken what I can only assume was a leap from pre-period girls in bobby socks singing into hair brushes to teenage vandals with pawnshop instruments without any kind of forethought to structuring their craft except having the drunkest fun possible, the Atlanta quartet set ears and hearts afire with their first two albums, 2007′s self-titled debut and 2009′s Scramble, both of which were gratuitously punk and gloriously noisy. But on their latest album, Larceny & Old Lace, The Coathangers’ business is sounding a bit more serious than usual, meaning that while their shrieky farce-ula is still prevalent, they do seem to have grown up a bit (and at the risk of having my hand bit, they’re looking more beautiful than ever, too). Sure, you still get that toaster-in-the-tub rush on songs like “Hurricane,” “Trailer Park Boneyard,” “Sicker,” and “Chicken: 30,” but now there’s also an equal amount of pop/beat-oriented moments courtesy of “Go Away,” “Call to Nothing,” “Jaybird,” and “My Baby.” Oh, and there’s a ballad, too. So, they might not be your same old Coathangers, but they’re still irritatingly awesome and they still have the capacity to be the life of the party.
Check out the video for “Hurricane” from Larceny & Old Lace!
It’s really no surprise that Electric Six has a new album out, is it? This year’s output, Zodiac, is the sixth studio album in as many years for these Motor City rabble rousers, and I’m not sure if they just like to hear themselves get down, or if it’s all part of some elaborate scheme to get us fat on a diet of disco salami and new wave cake. Sure, we all fell in love with Dick Valentine and Co.’s cabaret of rock n’ roll malarkey in 2003 when they released their debut, Fire, and who amongst us hasn’t busted a move (secretly, drunk, or otherwise) to “Gay Bar,” “Improper Dancing,” or “Dance Commander,” but the fact of the matter is the band hasn’t been able to generate that kind of sweaty, flashy impact since, despite their emphasis on quantity. Unfortunately, like the last five Electric Six albums, Zodiac doesn’t contain a smash like “Danger! High Voltage” and chances are you’ll have trouble remembering the over-the-top, tongue-in-cheek fun when it’s all said and done. That aside, I do dig the songs “Jam It in the Hole,” “I Am a Song!” and their cover of The Spinners’ “The Rubberband Man” is pretty awesome. Also, apparently the album’s 12 songs have been arranged to correspond with the signs of the zodiac, so you might have fun trying figure that out, but that might prove difficult if you’re one of the Electric Six diehard who gets excited noticing another handful of songs on an album with a running time of exactly 4:20.
She Rides
The Coathangers
Electric Six