Monday 26 July 2010

I WAS SPEECHLESS, MATE. I COULDN'T SPEAK.



Would you believe it? I'm just always writin' shit. This life of mine is just CRAZY! It's fucking intense. I'm just so unpredictable. Everyone at the office agrees.

Brats ''1980'' LP/ The lost tapes LP

Before King Diamond started paintin' his face and slammin' his eggs in the car door, the dudes from Merciful fate had a different singer, different songs and a different band name- BRATS! Sometime in '79, these mad bastards recorded a pretty decent, albeit pretty unremarkable punk rock demo. Over the cruel Danish winter, they locked themselves in their jam room. They stared with admiration and awe at the Ramones, Judas Priest and AC/DC posters on the walls. They ignored their girlfriends. They ate the finest Turkish Kebabs. They didn't clean their bedrooms, do their study or take out the rubbish. Damnit, these Danish cream-puffs practiced hard until they were literally the best band in the world! ''1980'' boasts hard rock songs that render 99% of the genre obsolete. Not content to plod, prick in hand through their tunes, Brats brung a new level of energy, tenacity and annihilation to the table. ''OY905'' is the long lost theme song to some Danish frat movie. ''Complex (Don't Destroy Me)'' see's old Yenz pour his heart out, before kicking into a rhythmic propulsion that would have Motorhead and Bad Religion fans falling to their knees and screaming uncle. ''Punk Sunglasses'' is from the demo, but it's given a steroid injection that puffs it's chest out so far, the little bugger just clucks headfirst through the walls and out the gates of the Ingham Chicken factory. ''Sense My boy'', well, that's just an incredible Danish mistranslation.

Puerto Rico Flowers- 4
True men's music. ''Not My Idea'' hurts. It hurts 'cos it's bloody good. ''Let's Make Friends'' made me shave off my fringe. PRF made me a skinhead. ''This is Murder'' left me crying into my laced hankerchief. Rumour has it, the emotional outpour of this record was channelled during the Blue's semi final thrashing at the hands of Brisbane in 09. With a voice four octives lower than Sticks Kernahan, bass as big as Justin Madden, drums as simple as Anthony Koutoufides and synth as futuristic as Peter Dean's bionic bandage work, PRF creates one hell of a mournful anger sound. ''4'' is a good old fashioned punch in the head record. I can't believe how weak you are if you don't like it.

Low Threat Profile- ep
Two of these songs appeared on complication releases a few ears back, and bugger me with a pitchfork if those versions didn't sound slightly superior. More push-ups, sit-ups and chin-ups in the low-end production values. But remember, when it comes to Deep Six, Infest and SoCal middle-aged men, you've just gotta expect everything to be completely ass-backwards. You see, these old-timers are completely oblivious and 100% uninterested in the mythological status they've earned via their previous endeavors. They've got real lives. Their songs, well, they have a strange, hyperactive lazyness. Maybe it's Matt Domino's guitar slouching? Even at it's most frantic, his playing has an undeniably comfortable lean. MD's casual riffage is offset by A. Beatie's unmatched vocal delivery. This guy is out there. The first thing he said when we met him was, ''Sorry, I'm mentally ill.'' The lapse in time between recording and releasing this record was not an effort to create any additional demand or mystique, it was simply because Bob (drummer) temporarily misplaced the master! This is A-grade material played by people who don't give a fuck. Study your textbooks.

Sacrelige- demos lp
The first thing that stands out is the incredible discipline and restraint that this drummer shows. He's got more burn than a fat man's fairway after a walk down the shops on a hot day, but he's saving it all for the band he's starting with his girlfriend's brother. His straight up and down performance is the hinge that allows the enormous door to slam in the depths of hell. The guitarist's ability to coil and recoil is remarkable. Dude is prairie-doggin'! I'd like to see the vocals on a polygraph. She'd be flat linin'! I get the feeling these guys were a little bit above sleeping on floors with glue-sniffers and mangy dogs. I'm sure one of them still works in a music store, one of them is a social worker and one went on to a successful career in biological science.