I wrote the following reviews for the print edition of the Jersey Beat (2001-2004).

2001
THE GOONS — No Leaders
(American Punk Records)
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A couple months back I accompanied my friend to one of those CBGBs afternoon hardcore fests. For most of the show I was in a state of slumber, due to the generic sounds pummeling my ears. Then, like a breath of fresh lightening — the Goons attacked the stage and reminded me why I started going to these shows in the first place.

No Leaders is one of the most refreshing records to arrive on my doorstep in years. Take everything good about Fear and Negative Approach — then mix the elements together in a pot of boiling tobassco sauce, and maybe you’ll get something close to the distraught manifestos on this LP. For days I’ve found myself playing “Hey You” over and over to the point where my neighbor came over and asked me if I’d been to my therapist lately. “Fuck therapy,” I said, “have a listen to what I’ve got here.

THE APERS  — Teenage Drama Every Kid Will Understand
(Stardumb Records)
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This is a hum-dinger of a listen. It made me want to get off my ass last night, and ride my Schwinn into the heart of the pouring rain, too bad my brakes were broken. The Apers play pop punk the way it’s meant to be played — ala Screeching Weasel and The Parasite’s driving home the point there is still an alternative to a fifth of Jack when Cathy dumps you the night before the prom. Sadly, this tightly produced three piece stick too closely to the formula etched so boldly by their forbearar’s, putting them in the position of being holed as just another good pop band.

BLASTMAT — Theme For A Dying World
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Blastmat features x-members of Sanity Assassins, Stitch, and the White Pigs — three bands I’ve never heard of, but can only wish I had seen play live at least once, especially Sanity Assassins. This really isn’t such a bad album; although the production job fell flat, making it difficult to discern the politically motivated lyrics. Vocalist, Philip Swanson reminds me of what Lemy might have sounded like if he were American. If anything, this LP is worth picking up so you can throw their cover of “Dog Eat Dog” on a mix tape.

THE GRANNIESThe Grannies
(Dead Teenager)

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I don’t know who the Grannies are or where the hell they came from — but they’re all-fucking-right in my book. The cover of their self titled LP has one of those PMRC labels etched into the CD jacket that says: “Grandparental Advisory — Explicit Lyrics.” Now that’s funny. Songs like “Granny City Riot” and “Grannies Gonna Get You” burn rubber through my speakers like a sooped up ‘68 Chevelle tearing down the open highway. It’s fast, fun and smells like a dirty leather jacket on the side of the road. This is what rock is all about.

KICKED IN THE HEAD — Thick As Thieves
(Resurrection)
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Whether by choice or luck — KITH have miraculously blended numerous punk rock genres into a stupefying whole. What I like most about this Boston based five-piece is that I can’t categorize them. It’s not that they’re doing anything so extreme or different — it’s  that they choose not to adhere to any one style. The lead-off track “Breakdown”, is an explosive hardcore tune set to the beat of: “I’m going to kick the bullies ass and ask out any god damn girl I want!”

Skip to “Lost Cause” a high speed ditty reminiscent of Orange County heroe’s, D.I., melodic vocals and simplistically rhymed lyrics included. Somewhere along the way the guys from KITH throw in a horn player, duel vocals and some funky guitar licks that belong in a Fishbone tune. Variety is the key word here folks; and these days that’s a hard commodity to come by.

2002
DARWIN RADIO — Brand New Evolution
(Ides of March)
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The packaging on this alum is extremely clever.  The front cover is a subtle message of caution, delivered through  a human eye, in which the  pupil has been replaced by a microchip of sorts.  Let’s just say I was a little disappointed when I pressed play on my trusty cd player, and the sounds that came out of my speakers impeled me to press stop.  The bands highest selling point is that they are distributed exclusively through Revelation Records, which seems to be very important to them because they plastered it all over their one sheet.  The music should sell itself—if you  dig on that Orange 9MM meets Quicksand sound it might–not the label that puts it out.  But these days promotion is everything, so who can blame a group for screaming and shouting—even if it is just mediocre hardcore.

THE FORMS — Icarus
(Three Spheres)
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As I come upon my 29th year, I sometimes question why I still listen to the punk rock.  I still remember my mom giving me the “It’s just a phase” speech back in the ninth grade.  So why do I still listen? The only response I can conjure is that as I’ve grown the music has developed right along with me.  So, tomorrow morning when I set off to catch the train to my teaching gig in the city —The Forms will create the perfect sound track.  Smooth, clean and oh so grown up.  The kind of discordant melodies that places one in the present moment as the old man who lives up stairs from me takes his Poodle for their morning walk and the lady across the way empties her garbage.

POCKET GENIUS – Tundra Rock
(Does Everyone Stare? Records)
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When I was 15 me and my friend Jared used to sit in his grandma’s car listening to the Descendents, and dreaming about when we would someday  meet our “Silly Girl” that Milo so eloquently sang about.   There was something special about sitting in that beat up Escort as the blown out Sears brand speakers took us to another place.  I’ll never forget those days, and every so often I come across a piece of music that catapults me back into the seat  of that car, sitting next to my friend when every goddamn thing in the world seemed possible.  If you feel what I’m talking about—then you might want to put “Tundra Rock” on your list of items to buy the next time you take a trip to the record store.

BIG RAY – Business Class
(Boss Tuneage)
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I’ve been trying to get away from musical references in my rock writing.  It’s a pretty trying task—seeing as most bands sound like other bands and then say things like—“Our influences stem solely from ourselves, man.”  Well, I’m going to indulge myself for a quick moment and come right out and say that Big Ray sound a hell of a lot like Cracker, X-Tal, The Silver Jews and as a crazy as it may sound, Seam!

Goddamn that felt good, and this album keeps getting better.  Ed Ween is the vocalist and accoustic guitarist of this eclectic six piece, and his voice is one of those gutteral, you’re either gonna’ love or hate types.  Instead of including the lyrics, which are fairly easy to discern, the band included liner notes for each song, retelling how these taking a walk in the park on a rainy Sunday afternoon tunes came to be.

KID WITH MAN HEAD – Cassius Coleman
(Boss Tuneage)
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I had a couple friends over Friday night for a game of Dominoes and some shit talking.  It was a good time and most importantly—I got to play DJ.  “What do you think of these guys?” I asked my friend, Phil as I pressed play on the new Kid With Man Head album.  After about 30 seconds, I could tell by the look on his face he wasn’t all that interested.  “I guess you have to be into the whole pop punk thing to really get where these guys are coming from,” he said, trying not to make feel too bad.

Why couldn’t he hear what I heard?  Why didn’t he want to throw his arm around my shoulder and jump through my paper thin walls into the apartment of the stupid college girls who live next door?  Maybe that would keep them from pumping their bass at 3 a.m. on a Monday night.  Nope, to Phil, it was just another band that sounded like the Descendents.  But for me, it was some of the best three chord rock n’ roll  I’ve heard since the first Down by Law l.p. came out.

“Well, then what do you think of this?” I said, tossing him the c.d. jacket. Being that Phil is a graphic designer—I knew he’d get a  kick out of the cover—a picture of Muhammad Ali, circa ’72, with the head of Gary Coleman craftily hemmed into the champ’s body.  “Yeah, that’s real cool,” said Phil, smile beaming from his face.  This was the approval I needed to hear for this fine piece of craftsmanship that huffs and puffs all the goddamn way home.

HOT SNAKES — Suicide Invoice
Swami Records
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About a month ago, I was in this record store in D.C. thumbing through their used CD bin when I heard some frenetic howling coming from the store speakers.  It sounded like a voice I heard before, but the blasting guitar work was new to my ears.  So I walked up to the dude sitting behind the counter and said, “Hey man, who is this that you’ve got playing?”  He gave me one of those looks that said, “I can’t believe you’re actually asking me this,” and then responded with a simple, “It’s the Hot Snakes.”  The who?  I never heard of them, I thought, knowing that these guys were too good to be part of the new crop of hipsters making waves on the circuit.  Turns out, when I got the disc in the mail a few weeks back (there was no way in hell I was buying anything from that asshole record store monger) that the Hot Snakes feature some punk rock hall-of-famers like Rick Froeberg on guitar and vocals ( Drive Like Jehu and Pitchfork); John Reis on guitar (Rocket From the Crypt, Drive Like Jehu); Jason Kourkounis on drums (Mule and Delta 72); and Gar Wood on bass and organ (Behive and the Barracudas).  Suicide Invoice is 13 tracks of dark and textured tuneage that will leave the burliest of downstroke enthusiasts bowing their heads in veneration.

Every Dog Will Have Its Day
Adeline Records
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Who would of thought Billie Joe had his own record label? Well, he’s not the sole owner—there’s also Lynn Parker and Jim Thiebaud (Real Skateboards)—but he’s probably the only one with any money. Surprisingly, one of the best tunes on this comp is the opening track “Ha Ha You’re Dead” by Green Day, which is sure to take long time fans back to the days when the seminal three piece actually made songs with heart.  It rocks hard and got me dancing around my apartment  with my fist pumping in the air.

Another standout outfit is “Vena Cava” who I want to call a stoner rock band because of their heavy riffs; but there is also something a poppy edge to this tune that makes me confused as hell about their sound and happy as can be to figure them out.  Then there’s Enemy You, who pay homage to Screeching Weasel and Weston in the catchy rocker “Janeane Hates Herself”.  And one can’t forget Agent 51, who start their Fun-Time-Charley, “Wrecking Ball” with some “Oh, Oh, Oh’s” that belong on any of the first 3 AC/DC albums. I look forward to seeing the kind of full length releases on Adeline in the near future.

SWORN IN — Sworn In
Bridge Nine Records
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When I was a kid most of the hardcore bands were singing about unity and kicking the shit out of non patriots.  Today, the little hardcore I’ve come across seems to delve deeper into the inner psyche, as opposed to cursing Saddam Hussein for making this world a scary place to live in. Perhaps hardcore kids today are grappling more with torn hearts and bruised egos, or at least that’s the overriding theme for Sworn In’s self-titled  release.

I know it sounds a hell of a lot like emo, but there is nothing pretty or jangly about this straight edge outfit from England.  Instead, vocalist Delaney Jae screams and screams like a madman who hasn’t been fed his dinner.  “Life’s a burnt out candle for a birthday wish that never came/a script drenched in regret.”  These are some passionate lyrics, and so what if they’re sophomoric, at least they come from the heart. If I was a 16-year-old getting dicked over by the Jenny and Jill’s of this world, Sworn In would most certainly be playing in my mom’s Durango on the way to pick up my friends for a night on the strip.

CHARLENE — Charlene
(Sharkattack! Music)
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Warning—this album is meant for a rainy day when you want to lock yourself in your room, and feel sorry for yourself.  Do not assume that after listening to this spacey, electronically enhanced full-length debut that you will feel any better about your pathetic existence; however, you certainly will want to listen to the album a few more times as the sun sets, and you realize tomorrow is another day.  Fans of Yo La Tengo and early Luna will find this to be an extremely satisfying release.

BON VOYAGE – The Right Amount
(Tooth & Nail Records)
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For those of you who don’t normally delve into the world of female vocals, it is imperative you put aside those pre-conceived notions, and allow the wonders of Julie Martin’s voice to enter your mind.  All you have to do is lie on your bed and yield to the sweet textures of Martin’s eminence, while she takes you to a higher place. Bon Voyage is a collaboration between Martin and her husband Jeff (StarFlyer 59) that travels through a cloudy haze of pop and crafty synth work.  David Lynch would be doing himself a favor by including these sonic moments of bliss on his next soundtrack.

MISS LONELYHEART — Signal and Response
(Molecular Laboratories)
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For the past two weeks Miss Lonelyheart’s third full length has been supplying the much needed momentum for my subway ride to work every morning.  This is a rock release that takes all the elements of punk, pop and metal and throws it together into a refreshing blast of verve, that stands above the wreckage that is passing for indy rock.

This three piece articulate a passion for writing authentic songs that will clutch your body like the tightest of bear hugs.  Be careful, however, because the sounds contained on this release are liable to provoke a dead mind out from under the covers.  We wouldn’t want a bunch of kids running around pursuing something as ungraspable as their dreams, would we?

2003
ZEEHAS; 12 WAIT — To The Maxxxxx
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Sometimes when I’m bored, or just feel like shooting a dare into the sky, I play a game that goes like this: First, I turn on my computer and begin searching the Internet for high profile jobs.  Then I send really bad cover letters and resumes to these jobs with the hope of bringing a smile or a shit to some corporate deuchebag.  Last week, for example, I applied to be the editor in chief for a hot, new men’s fashion magazine.  I sort of get the feeling that the dudes in Zeehas like to play the same game as me, except with crappy electronic music.

THE ADVENTURES OF JET — Muscle
(Suburban Home Records)
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The other night when I was having a couple of cocktails at Niagra some dick stole my CD player out of my bag.  Much to my dismay, Muscle was the disc keeping me company that week.  I was really growing fond of this souped up concept album that draws on muscle cars as its central theme.  Every listen took me on a ride through better days, when getting together with your buddies meant nothing more than driving around and looking for nothing to do.  Maybe one of the dudes from the band will read this review and send me a fresh copy of the CD. I sure could use a dose of their pick-me-up power chords right about now.

CRITERIA – En Garde
(Initial Records)
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The first track on this 10 song charmer, “the coincidence” is meant to be played at loud volumes, preferably while your driving alone on a dark highway puffing away on that cigarette you promised you would save for a day like this. A day when the drilling you do in your head can be put on hold long enough to inhale your smoke and enjoy the gut piercing sounds that come attached with this little file of home baked rejuvenation. Fronted by Stephen Pederson of Cursive and the White Octave, this guitar driven work of art better make some rock critics top ten list this year because every fucking tune on En Garde is a delicious meal with an even better desert.

THE PIECES — The Pieces
(Benchmark Records)
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My first inclination was to lump The Pieces with all the other outfits making good on that whole alternative country scene.  But sitting here as the rain pounds against my window on this dreary Thursday night, I’ve come to realize this is simply a really good rock album.  In the soulful rocker, “Soda Machine,” songwriter Vess Ruhtenberg takes us to Any Place, Ohio and belts out, “I’m staying in some hotel/and I’m trying to make a living off of feeling mean.”

For a few moments, I’m transported to this grimy room with the TV flickering my favorite episode of Taxi or Cheers, and there’s nothing else to think about but just being in that very moment.  This is simplicity at its finest.  Another salt of the earth standout is the timeless homage to figuring shit out, “What You Want.”   When Ruhtenberg combines his understated intonations with bassist, Heidi Gluck’s Nancy Sinatra-esque voice—one is taken to a smoky bar where the only thing left to do is bob your head, light a cigarette, and take another shot of bourbon.

2004

ROY — Big City Sin and Small Town Redemption
(Fueled By Ramen)
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As Donny Osmond might have said, this album is a little bit of country and a lot of fucking rock n’ roll. “What does it mean/We are living in reality,” blasts front man Ben Verellen on the upbeat pop ditty “They Cut The Cord”

Which resembles a cross-country train ride through all of our lives.  This is the album to come back to on those days when you need a soundtrack to back up the wavering thoughts you only thought could be answered by listening to the Replacements and eating a gallon of strawberry ice cream.  Nothing hits harder then the blazing first track, Something That’s Real.  It’s the talk you’ve been meaning to have with an old pal who knows you better than anyone. “So why can’t you admit to the fact that you’re not all that blue.”  We all need a kick in the ass, and sometimes it comes best to the tune of jangling guitars that meander through the terrain of meditative country and passionate rock tunes.

CORDALENE – The Blue EP
(Manic Pop Thrill Records)
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I don’t know about you, but ingesting a hearty bowl of pop for breakfast, always supplies me with that extra fuel I need to make it through the day. I imagine this quartet from Philly would be a good bunch of Joe’s to enjoy some late night 40s with while discussing the wonders of Joe Jackson’s “Look Sharp.” All the tunes on this 4-song EP reaffirm why bands who write simple songs about girls will always be the best. The bonus track cover of Love’s “Little Red Book” will get you dancing around the apartment like a kid who just found out school was cancelled for the day because of the snow storm.

POP STAR KIDS — The Revenge Of
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The one-sheet for these dudes avows that they are the best band in NYC. Then I listened to the disc and marveled at the genius of the P.R man who typed the promo up.  “Oh I get it,” I thought out loud.  “He’s being ironic because these lads sound about as good as my dog when she’s barking at me for wiping shit off her paws.”  OK, maybe they’re not that bad, and at times the singer even reminds me a young Rivers Cuomo. But just when one of their songs is starting to get pretty cool they have to ruin it by tossing in some of those novel electro-toilet-pop beats that make me want to throw the disc against the head of some Goth kid that is crying because he can’t get laid.

DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE – Translanticism
(Barsuk Records)
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I’m on the subway crossing the Manhattan Bridge.  The snow is falling and he sings, “I’ve got a hunger twisting my stomach into knots.” His voice calms me as I try to forget the day I just had.  Some kid laughed at me for sitting on gum and another gem tossed an eraser at my head.  But right now the solid rock beats, dynamic guitar chords and handclaps are all I need. “Ba Ba—this is the sound of settling,” declares singer/guitarist Ben Gibbard in the poppy anthem, “The Sound of Settling.”

The rest of the album is filled with layer upon layer of pulsing sound effects and periodic moments of piano that reaffirm why this Pacific Northwest quartet are standing tall on top of the rock pile.  The train rolls to a stop, and the mess of a day I just had feels far behind, as I gear up for the walk home and press repeat on my iPod.