LOCAL Album Review: The Hussy - Galore

Longtime fixtures of the recently booming garage-punk circuit here in Madison, self-described “trash-rockers” The Hussy deliver what we’ve come to love while simultaneously expanding their sound on the fourth LP Galore (released June 30, 2015).  The most noticeable change is the addition of bass, which the former-duo incorporates through the entire album.  Their stripped-down aesthetic is further bolstered by layers of guitars and effects, percussive elements, and on some tracks creative instrumentation such as violin and lap-steel guitar.  Make no mistake however, this is still a band and a record built on no-bullshit charming scrappiness.  Even while delivering some of their most immediate, hooky material to date, the DEVO-esque cheeky pop is balanced perfectly with an aggressiveness and abrasion reminiscent of early grunge bands like Mudhoney.  Bobby Hussy continues to be one of the more exciting guitar slingers going, with fuzzed-out progressions and a ramshackle (though very proficient) soloing style that cuts through the mix like a lawnmower.  The boy/girl vocal dynamic is also on full display, with impressive harmonies and defiant, carefree lyrics delivered with a grin and a middle finger.  

Galore digs its claws into you right of the bat with standout opener Asking for Too Much.  Acoustic and electric guitars mesh together and Bobby cooly laments from a deep sea of reverb in a track that has all the makings of a garage rock classic.  Things only get better with follower Take You Up.  Bob plays the crooner for two verses, channelling the deep post-punk type of drone of Ian Anderson or Peter Murphy.  Punctuated by a vocal-less chorus centered on guitar interplay, the track finishes with a soaring wall-of-sound bridge. 

Following a very solid pair of snotty punk bangers in EZ/PZ and Made in the Shade, guest musician Justin Aten’s violin takes center stage in the exquisitely somber downtempo dirge Darkness.  What begins as a sparse psychedelic arrangement of delicate guitar arpeggios and Heather’s mellow brooding gets the garage treatment during it’s second half.  Like a breaking wave the track explodes into a noisey whiteout as guitar distortion kicks in and Aten wails away on the violin in such a way reminiscent of John Cale’s viola work with The Velvet Underground.  All the while the detached monotone vocals continue, washed all but out of the mix as Galore’s side one comes to a shoegazing close.

With such a high standard set by Galore’s first side, side two tends to sag a bit as repetition sets in.  Several tracks have the feel of a band that is still struggling to capture the intensity and passion of their live performance in a way that makes for a consistently satisfying at-home listening experience.  These tracks ride purely on the guitar work, and for the most part Bobby makes it happen with an absolutely in-the-pocket performance.  Through memorable riffs and volatile soloing, he commands his distorted, livewire sound like a rock n’ roll cowboy wrangling a mad stallion.  J Mascis is the very apparent influence on his style, and there is no doubt that this display would earn a nod of approval from the legendary Dinosaur Jr frontman. 

Closing track My Bad plays like a Vivian Girls-esque neo-shoegaze as Heather’s ethereal vocals float delicately over a raging sea of feedback and distortion.  The album ends with noisey psychedelic freakout that features Bobby’s most extensive soloing before gradually giving way to pure static.  It makes for a grinding finish, but fits the album’s tone awesomely.   

Overall Galore sees The Hussy craft an incredibly listenable record that not only maintains but builds upon their established identity as a band.  Some of the more straight-forward numbers leave a bit to be desired, but at its best the album delivers brilliantly ragged psychedelia without any sense of indulgence or pretension.  It isn’t until the final track that any song hits the three minute mark, but every song is packed with dense instrumentation and production that absolutely hits its mark as almost a grungy version of Pet Sounds.  Galore is not only satisfying for those familiar with the band, but has the authenticity and execution of an album that any rock fan can appreciate.  This is the kind of record that you immediately put on a second time, while you anxiously wait to see what the band does next.

To purchase your copy of Galore, swing by Mad City Music Exchange or visit Southpaw Records

*Catch The Hussy on night two of TurkeyFest; Saturday October 24 at Crystal Corner, as they play their first show back in the states following an extensive European tour!!

Track of the Day: Dumbo Gets Mad - Bam Bam

As you may have gathered from my previous post on Dumbo Gets Mad, their new record is one that I am highly anticipating.  I cannot tell a lie; it is the "weirdness" of Dumbo Gets Mad above all that drives my interest in this band.  Of course, weirdness alone does not a great record/band/song make…something that DGM seems to realize, at least at some level of consciousness.  Thus, they have continued to find ways to integrate their sound of modern experimentation and psychedelia into accessible pop/indie mentalities.  Personally, I don't know if this approach can be more effective than what they do on their new track "Bam Bam".

The song opens with a basis of thumping psychedelic abidance and dreamy vocals.  As the song goes on however, it builds in noisy melodicism until it finally reaches its point of no return;  where the noisy synths and surreal song structure converge into a haze of unpredictable freak-folk melodies and trippy discoesque beats.  This represents a surreal moment in time where a psych band reaches its pinnacle of melodicism, or perhaps where a melodic band reaches its peak of psychedelia.  Whatever the case, it is a great display of merging hybrid genres into universally enjoyable music.  

Album Review: Bass Drum of Death - GB City

As described by its label, Fat Possom, GB City sounds like "the soundtrack playing in your head when you're fucked up and walking home in the middle of the night".  Reminiscent of the under appreciated early 60s "frat rock" scene of the Pacific Northwest,  this is an absolutely vintage, blown-out garage rock record dripping with surfy delivery and subconscious hints of twisted psychedelia.  The album was written and recorded entirely by singer/guitarist John Barrett in his hometown of Oxford, Mississippi, using minimal equipment and even less bullshit.  

The album is especially strong during its first half.  Nerve Jamming opens with pounding, lightening-fast drums and jagged angular power chords, wasting little time before cracking open into a headbanging scream-along chorus about wasting time (ironically) and blowing minds.  The pace doesn't let up at all as BDoD thrashes their way through the title track and into highlight third track Get Found.  The tune is driven by a grinding, muscular, guitar riff as the only constant as rest of the band jolts to brief stops for the sake of jumping back in and exploding into cathartic ferocity during the final minute.  Velvet Itch rounds things off with a comparatively slower pace as the guitar and drums bang along in unison to create a groovy, earth-shaking rumble while John screeches about talking to Elvis in his sleep.

Over the course of the second side of the album things slow down somewhat, literally in the case of standout track Spare Room.  It starts with the familiar Phil Spector drumbeat, slowed to the point of desperation by a sea of guitar grime and ominously trippy five-note bassline.  The energy returns with Young Pros, a bouncy, upbeat song that in some screwy alternate universe could have been huge in the 60s. Sunny guitar hooks and serenading verses are bracketed by a sky-opening chorus featuring doo-wop backing vocals and gleeful drum fills behind John's warped croon.

While the greatest appeal of this album undoubtedly lies in its raw, primitive musicianship and garagey recklessness, the vocals do more than their part to complete the package.  John bashes his way through the songs with a droning howl, dripping with reverb and overdriven from sheer volume.  He goes on about religious girls, demonic possession, drugs, depression, paranoia, and destruction while punctuating his phrasing with absolutely brilliant moments where he erupts into screeching cracks and yelps of excitement that sound like Little Richard on acid.

I had the opportunity to see Bass Drum of Death at the 7th St Entry shortly after this album dropped, and they did not disappoint.  John lead the charge behind an untamed mop of hair obscuring his entire face, which he couldn't be arsed to brush aside at any point.  It was oddly fitting though as the faceless ball of hair spat songs in much to passionate of a way to be entirely human.  They closed the show with a manic rendition of Nirvana's Territorial Pissings, and just about left the building and everyone inside in ashes.  While nothing could convey the chaos of this band in a live setting, the album does an admirable job of replicating the vibe.

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Throwback Track of the Day: The Flaming Lips - She Don't Use Jelly

Compared to most of The Lips' other material, it is easy to write off the closest thing they've had to a mainstream hit as a throwaway novelty song.  In my opinion though, it is a great reflection of their approach to the surreal and their ability to inject a healthy dose of weirdness and obscurity into the most conventional of song structures.  Crashing drums and distorted pedal steel noise lace what would otherwise be a straight forward singalong chord progression, and Wayne Coyne ratchets it up further with bizarre lyrics about the strange idiosyncrasies of particular people.  It's the type of lyrical riddle that begs for an allegorical meaning, but you know that there is none; it is simply an acknowledgement of absurdity, and the perfect soundtrack for a generation of kids that can't bring themselves to take the world seriously.

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Track of the Day: Dumbo Gets Mad - Eclectic Prawn

Imported from Italy, the duo Dumbo Gets Mad brings a fresh approach to the well-trodden territory of psychedelic rock.  It opens with three key loops that will continue throughout much of the song; a breezy, reverb-drenched electric guitar shuffle, sudsy, bubbling background synths, and the lazy bounce of the bassline.  The loops are soon joined by breathy, shoegaze-esque vocals.  The song builds gradually before opening up into a larger-than-life chorus section, and then continuing to explode into an amazing, fuzzed-out solo section at the bridge.  What I like so much about this song is that there is so much ambiance to it yet it is still engaging, without being at all provocative.  It's like when you dive under water at a public pool or beach- you can still sense everything going on above the surface, but as far as you're concerned, as you float within the water's embrace, everything else might as well be a million miles away.

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Download the Elephants at the Door LP for free HERE

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Record Review: King Tuff - Was Dead

Every time I blink my eyes the Uptown grass seems to get greener, and the quick approach of summer has motivated me to write about one of my favorite albums for the season: King Tuff's Was Dead (released in 2008, TeePee Records).  King Tuff is Kyle Thomas, from Brattleboro, Vermont.  He is recognized by some as member of the folk band Feathers and J Mascis' project 'Witch'.  He recently decided to make a fuzzy, freaked-out album by himself, under the name King Tuff.  This, of course, is the result.  As much as summer itself, what this album represents to me is the cross pollination between punk and power pop, in the incubator that is modern indie/garage music.  It is certainly not new territory to be explored these days, but I have not heard a more authentic, refined version of it than what is on display on Was Dead.  The melodies and progressions are instantly reminiscent of the 60s rock explosion, but the context they are placed in, equal parts fuzzy garage recklessness and fuzzy psychedelic weirdness, thrust the whole thing too far "out there" for it to be anything but modern.  The production is sparse and tinny.  The guitars are clean, but certainly fuzzy.  The vocals crack and clip.  Everything is drenched in reverb.  The overall commitment to a specific vibe is admirable, and with perfect execution it makes this album nothing short of an experience in weightlessness.

Thomas has since been involved with another project called Happy Birthday, and later this year will make a re-appearance as King Tuff with a self titled album on Sub Pop Records.  

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*Shout out to he who shall be known as Shock_Troop, who brought this album to my attention.  - Check out his blog here