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Apr 28, 2017







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US Weekly, US Weekly (Night Moves Records)

I have to laugh about this one. Music-reviewing can be such a lonely undertaking these days, what with 10,000 new albums coming out every day, and you end up feeling like you’re missing the boat on some obscure band or trend or whatever. But catching one of our own red-handed with a goof is — well, it’s awesome. Case in point: this album, from a coed indie band from Austin, Texas, has been getting a ton of mileage from a rave writeup from Gerard Cosloy, who I used to think was King of All Music Reviewers. He absolutely wigged about this band, referring to their scattershot emo/Pavement/Iggy/Led Zeppelin approach in the glowingest of terms. I sort of sat back after listening to this LP and had to let that sink in. Man, Gerard’s gotten old! Has he forgotten about the Pixies and Black Lips? I mean, that’s what this amounts to, either of those two bands, upfitted with Drive Like Jehu’s strain of punk rabies. College radio is going to flip out over this, but Now You Know The Rest of the Story. You’re oh so welcome. (Seriously, am I missing something with regard to these guys?) A- — Eric W. Saeger





The Obsessed, Sacred (Relapse Records)
CD Reviews: April 27, 2017

04/27/17



The Obsessed, Sacred (Relapse Records)

The genre designation “doom metal” is one way of saying “stuff that sounds like old Black Sabbath,” but no one has the basics down as much as this band, led up by Scott “Wino” Weinrich, whose voice was a dead ringer for vintage Ozzy Osborne, warts and all. A Maryland native, he’s been getting away with this Ozzy soundalike business since 1979, fronting (as guitarist/singer) both this band and Saint Vitus, the latter of which, as SST Records’ token metal signing, were basically that label’s metaphorical head on a pike, a constant reminder that corporate arena-rock could always reassemble itself and come back to send the punk rockers scampering back to the drawing board. Thirty-five-plus years into this act, which has seen many ups and downs, Wino still wants to rawk oldschool, but this record isn’t (totally) a collection of “Sabbath or Not Sabbath” trivia quizzes. On “Razor Wire,” a mid-speed raunch-n-blues exercise that sounds lifted from the Molly Hatchet playbook, he relies more on Ronnie Van Zant rasping than Ozzy nasality, while his vocals on the Motorhead-spazzing “Punk Crusher” will make you think of Glenn Hughes (yes, there are certain older hard-rock nerds who still get wildly excited at that reference). Nothing out of place here, more a time-card punch than anything, but really, you weren’t expecting more than that I hope. B- 





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