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Dec 19, 2018







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Booji Boys, Weekend Rocker (Drunken Sailor Records)




Booji Boys, Weekend Rocker (Drunken Sailor Records)

From Halifax, Nova Scotia, comes this jagged, jumping punk band, whose sound is more no-wave than DIY, not that there’s even supposed to be a difference, but these guys can be … I dunno, gentle in an odd way, even when they’re covering Gang Green (they released a redo of “Sold Out” in November as a single, which, these days, comes off as an honest homage rather than a lousy calculation). The song lengths are bang on, topping out at two minutes (not counting the seven minutes of “Oh Yeah,” which just sounds like a drunken band practice where no one would shut up). Gloriously bad production here: “Weekend Rockers” is a sloppy mishmash of off-the-cuff Black Flag ferocity and vocals that are so heavily sodden with reverb that they’re just white noise. “Doin’ the Pyre” is thoroughly no-wave, though, like Half Japanese on angel dust, which only points out the possibility that today’s DIY punks are cursed with good equipment. More please. A Eric W. Saeger




Olden Yolk, Olden Yolk (Trouble in Mind Records)
CD Reviews: January 25, 2018

01/25/18
By Eric Saeger news@hippopress.com



Olden Yolk, Olden Yolk (Trouble in Mind Records)

There’s a certain rare accuracy in the musical reflections of today’s everyday-nerds-gone-artist, particularly the city dwellers in that group. This is a New York band that isn’t just going through a set of forced motions to sound country-ish or garage-ish or whatnot but truly, honestly urban. Over the past decade or so, most bands of this ilk would have stuck with their Spacemen 3-ishness or concentrated on their twee side, all without adding any layers of electronic substance or much else to keep critics guessing (or even awake). This one begins with “Verdant,” a sluggy Pink Floyd-ish bit that becomes a sweeping, swirling vision of life riding subways and the daydreams that bloom from it, magnificent synth lines creeping in before you even know they were there. “Cut to the quick,” on the other hand, is a Belle & Sebastian bit that eventually becomes a Guster-like alt-folk behemoth, again sneaking in wide-screen greatness right under your nose. The sum effect is oddly satisfying, like hearing great songs coming together at loose rehearsals. A — Eric W. Saeger   





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