Tag Archives: New Release

Trans Am, What Day Is It Tonight? (Thrill Jockey)

LEO Weekly ran my review of the new Trans Am live album today:

Live albums generally serve two main purposes: as documentation of a one-time-only, you-had-to-be-there concert that defines an artist’s career (think James Brown’s 1963 classic Live at the Apollo); or as a survey of greatest hits performed live (with the caveat that said album is a fulfillment of contractual obligations). Regardless, either approach usually disappoints. In the first instance, I end up bummed out because I wasn’t there. In the second, I hope whatever variation of “Greatest Hits Live!” I’m listening to finishes quickly. Unfortunately, Trans Am’s new live album, What Day Is It Tonight?, falls into the second category. While I’ve enjoyed seeing them many times over their nearly two-decade long stint, listening to their pleasant-but-superficial tunes sprawled over 70 minutes (without much noticeable variation from their albums, aside from a superfluous drum solo or three) doesn’t seem necessary.

Buy it from Thrill Jockey.

Nothing People, Late Night (S-S)

My review of Late Night, the newest album by Nothing People, appears in this week’s LEO Weekly:

As far as careerist schemes go, naming your band Nothing People and titling your first album Anonymous has to be pretty high up on the list of bad ideas. Yet California’s Nothing People’s lack of such ambitions is refreshing in an age where seemingly every band has a marketing plan. Thankfully their music is unique enough for them to be noticed. Whereas their debut mined proto-punk in the vein of Chrome or Public Image Limited, Late Night presents a bleaker, lonelier vibe (hence its title). Some of its simpler songs don’t even seem to feature the entire band but still reveal an emotional complexity lurking beneath the surface. While Nothing People are seemingly hard to know, so far it’s been worth the effort.

Buy it from S-S here.

Ofege, Try and Love (Academy)

The following review ran in today’s LEO Weekly:

Continuing the current explosion of excellent 1970s African music being reissued in the West for the first time, Brooklyn’s Academy Records (a reissue label started by quite possibly the best vinyl store in the country) has reissued Try and Love, the 1973 debut album by Nigeria’s Ofege.

Whereas Nigeria’s most well-known superstar, Fela Kuti, might be superficially comparable to our James Brown, Ofege could also be considered the continent’s Jackson 5. Consisting of five unrelated teenagers, Ofege took their country by storm but missed greater opportunities because their parents didn’t allow them to quit school. However, unlike the J5, Try and Love’s music has a conspicuous maturity that surprises. But the album doesn’t forget to rock, complete with super-psychedelic, post-Hendrix guitar over African polyrhythms.

You can buy this excellent record from Academy here.

Eddy Current Suppression Ring, Primary Colours (Goner)

Last but not least, from Swingset:

Despite a small population consisting mainly of descendents of England’s cast-offs, Australia has graced the rest of the English-speaking world with many excellent rock bands. AC/DC, the Saints, Coloured Balls, Radio Birdman, and the Birthday Party are just a few of the many Australian bands worthy of any rock fanatic’s collection. And now, with their second full-length album, Eddy Current Suppression Ring makes a play for inclusion in the annals of antipodean rock accomplishment. While the production value of Primary Colours is slightly more polished than their debut, the album kicks out the jams quite thoroughly, with a taut minimalist kick reminiscent of Wire or the Buzzcocks, albeit with an even goofier accent.

Buy it from Goner.

Harry Pussy, You’ll Never Play This Town Again (Load)

Review number two at Swingset (and boy does it stink!) — Harry Pussy’s You’ll Never Play This Town Again retrospective on Load:

It’s difficult to describe just how great a band Harry Pussy was, or how thoroughly the Miami-based trio demolished the line between provocation and confrontation, without noting that their least offensive aspect was their name. During their brief mid-1990s “career” they managed to utterly obliterate audience expectations, even when those expectations were at best marginal. The one time I was lucky enough to see ‘em, at a show I booked during their farewell tour, they even managed to bum out a small crowd of otherwise open-minded, drugged-out hippie college students in ways I didn’t dream possible. For posterity’s sake, a number of their long out-of-print recordings are now available on You’ll Never Play This Town Again. For those of us lucky to have been there, and for those few willing to check out a crazed piece of noise past, this release is everything you’d need to know.

Buy it here from Load.