Tilts’ self-titled debut full-length is one of those pledge jobs — you know, where a band raises a certain amount of money directly from fans and uses that money to make an album. The amount of money a person pledges determines the package they receive, be it a digital download, a record, a record and a t-shirt, etc., and only those people who pledge get the tunes. It’s the print-on-demand model applied to music (a model also recently successfully employed by Ginger Wildheart for his triple album project), and it is thanks to about 117 backers that this here attack of supercharged indie power pop is gonna meet an invested audience. Tilts is a remixed and remastered collection of the St. Louis band’s first three EPs (Cassingle, Sidepipin’, Contractors to Her Majesty’s Forces) and sizzles like a schoolgirl on an electric fence, and if there were such a thing as dance halls anymore, this album would sweep ‘em in a big way. Tilts (who feature Torche’s newest member Andrew Elstner in their ranks) are simply addictive, and do all sorts of dirty, wonderful things with this album by turning it into a sonic smorgasbord; you’ll taste all kinds of rock here, like Southern (“Mexiqo”), garage (“It Helps”), alt (“Whatever Happened”), fuzz (“Palm Reader”), desert (“Sidepipin’”), and even a nod to Van Halen (“Hot for Pizza”). Hell, wait until you hear the heavy they lay down on “Contractors to Her Majesty’s Forces” and “Strongbow”. Simply put, Tilts is overloaded with catchy, hip shock n’ roll that’s been put on a pedestal made of gumdrops and nails. Everything great in a spin, really, and record store geeks and smarmy critics are gonna go ga-ga for this. Assuming they pledged, that is.
Not long ago, teenage dirtbag Johnny de Courcy parted ways with his brothers in the Canadian stoner/doom band Black Wizard, citing a dissociation with the band and its music. You see, Johnny, underneath all that greasy hair and through all that pot smoke, is a bit of dandy, and while the follies of indiscriminate youth were best experienced through heavy electric noise, it’s now his inner Ziggy Stardust that yearns to be free. Johnny’s heart, no doubt saturated with chemical fumes inhaled at his print shop hideaway, bursts with foppish psych-pop, and the five songs on this acoustic EP move about as though Syd Barrett is dancing a jewelry box ballerina all the way to Mars. It’s an incredible turnabout, but one that suits Johnny like a fresh string of pearls, and the sweet sounding truth of his weird and whimsical ways are beautifully inspirational.
Bad Teeth has been released on cassette, but if that’s too strange a format for you to get back into, go listen to it and download it for free right here!
It’s been three years since we last heard from The Parlor Mob, whose debut album And You Were a Crow successfully cradled the fine line between mainstream exposure and underground appeal, a rock n’ roll record borne of barefoot ideals and mustache machismo that was part Led Zeppelin, part Black Crowes, and all radio play. But the New Jersey band has surfaced with their follow-up, Dogs, which, like its predecessor, should curry compliments from people on either side of the popularity divide. However, unlike And You Were a Crow, Dogs has a more commercially viable edge to it, a darker, heavier hard rock flavour, heard especially on the songs “How It’s Going to Be,” “Fall Back,” “The Beginning,” and the album’s first single, “Into the Sun,” complete with a pop-driven chorus. What Dogs lacks, however, is the hippie groove that packed And You Were a Crow full of dust and soul, and while “Hard Enough,” “Slip Through My Hands,” and “Holding On” capture some of that ol’ feel good vibe, it’s clear The Parlor Mob have kicked it into attack mode this time around. You know, Dogs could have a little more boogie for my buck, but now that Dirty Sweet have rode off into the hazy horizon, it’s The Parlor Mob or bust. And I’m not ready to go down just yet.
Tilts
Johnny de Courcy
The Parlor Mob