Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Hickoids / Grannies Split LP: Unmedicate yourself, if you want to



What are you going to do, kill me? I’ve tried at least 60 times and keep waking up. I started my morning with the new Hickoids/Grannies long-playing vinyl. Opaque red vinyl to be exact, I love any variation of red vinyl, kind of like the aural equivalent of a classical, drug addled Italian actress that keeps your eyes glued in a perpetual frenzy. This actress pulls no punches with a landslide of piercing punk rock illness. So get unmedicated and let’s start on this scandalous punker than rock rendezvous.

The Hickoids kick off this rock n roll funeral with “TJ”, a ruckus of guitar swill and legendary vocalist Jeff Smith’s unique blend of sophisticated dementia and melody. “Fruit Fly” has the prerequisite second track coolness with its burning combination of Dead Boys meets Motown R&B genetic makeup. “Stop It You’re Killing Me” is my anthem for the week and smashes distortion barriers with concise dynamics amidst the mayhem of Frankenstein-style New York Dolls, personally my fave track on this first side. The Jeff Smith penned “Workingman’s Friend” brings in a nice close before intermission with a badass slow blues punker reminiscent of the legendary Poison 13. Hey, these Texans must have some pure poison in the water supply that keeps legendary bands reproducing throughout the decades. The Hickoids are better than ever and devour these four songs like a starving junkie with a fresh refill rooting through the dumpster in death wish euphoria.

The cross dressing Grannies begin the last half of this rock-punk earthquake with the Nervous Eaters classic “Just Head”! Fuck yeah, anyone covering “Just Head” has my attention and they knock out the transmission of their “fuck punk” aesthetic with another punk cover bashing of Slaughter and The Dogs “Cranked up Really High”! Another, fuck yeah, for the fuck punks known as the Grannies. Their 7 tracks of Killed by Death/live fast die young style throws me back to the glory days of 1990’s van touring with giant bottles of Ephedrine and endless cases of Schaefer Beer.

A raspy vocal with garage rock gusto combined with an unapologetic double guitar attack kicks up the dirt and gives the deepest inhale of the purest smog you’ll ever taste. Hey wait, the Grannies are from San Francisco, finally the water supply is completely contaminated for California, that’s a good thing. If you don’t believe me, here’s two tracks from the album with corresponding info to get ahold of these purveyors of rock n’ roll indecency.

New issue in the works for late August

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