“Tight” isn’t a word that fits comfortably when describing Thee Oh Sees, but on Help, the second full-length effort from John Dwyer’s garage psych marauders, the band has certainly learned to find order amidst chaos in a manner that eluded them on their 2008 debut The Master’s Bedroom Is Worth Spending a Night In. The basic approach on Help isn’t particularly different than on Thee Oh Sees’ first effort — the guitars are thick, ringing, and dripping with reverb and distortion, the rhythm section pounds away in a simple but relentless fashion, the massed vocals approximate vintage California-style harmonies in the midst of a trip on dirty acid, and the songs take traditional garage rock changes and bend them a wee bit as the production runs them through just enough low-budget studio trickery until they resemble a paisley nightmare oozing out of your speakers. Still, while most of the tunes on Help sound as purposefully messed up as ever, they’re just a bit tidier and more straightforward here, and the stronger framework makes a positive difference. Similarly, the performances sound more unified and less chaotic here, as if everyone is following the same vision that lurks over the horizon for a change, and the ferocity of Dwyer’s guitar is potent, locking into the crash-boom-bang of the bass and drums with impressive force. And while full-on assaults on reality like “Enemy Destruct” and “Soda St. #1″ are the order of the day on Help, there’s enough of a pop lilt in “Go Meet the Seed” and “Can You See?” to confirm these folks saw some real nice colors while making this album and have a variety of tricks in their repertoire to express them. You might not trust Thee Oh Sees to give you a ride home after a gig, but if you’re looking for a seriously buzzy rave-up, Help certainly delivers the goods.
Stephanie Chan, Veronica Ortuño, Erin Budd, and Elizabeth Skadden are the girls with the bad reputations. They’re the girls who are gonna make you pay. Formed in 2006, the local thrash-punk quartet is dizzying to watch live, trading instruments and screams after each minutelong anti-pop dirge. A cover of Nirvana’s “Negative Creep” only solidifies their early-Nineties trash-rock worship, all ripped jeans and bratty beats. They’ve released a self-titled 7-inch on Wonk Records, and an upcoming 7-inch on ABL Records, “Primary Colors,” drops soon. Do you want to be their boyfriend? Fill out an application.
– Audra Schroeder
Take from: AustinChronicle.com MySpace
Today, “garage,” “psych,” and “punk” are three overused words to say the least. They’re dropped from every direction to brand, market, and sell, but looking back to the mid-1960s, there was only one group of musical mavericks that clearly defined them. The Monks were five beat playing American GIs stationed in Germany who, after their discharge, decided to stay and continue their musical mission. Meeting up with a team of local managers, they transformed themselves and their sound into a holy racket like the world had never known. This five-person order literally birthed the above genres through a fuzz-drenched evolution of sound, bursting with social commentary and future primitive rhythms. Krautrock? It started here. Do we hear non-believers? We are NOT making this up. If you aren’t already converted, it won’t take long..
Light In The Attic is ecstatic to present the Monks recorded legacy through two lavishly packaged and lovingly researched reissues: The Early Years 1964-1965 as well as their landmark studio album Black Monk Time. Numerous period photographs (many unseen) and an extensive two-part essay by Canadian music journalist Kevin Howes (Jamaica - Toronto series) accompany both releases and tell the Monks story like it has never been told. Bonus material dating back to pre-Monks Torquays and up to post Black Monk Time 7″s are also included. From “Shut Up” to “Boys Are Boys”", “Complication” to “Cuckoo,” worlds will collide before your very eyes. Press play, drop the needle, zone in, and see for yourself. And while there’s no need to shave your head, you’ll certainly flip your wig. Come on everybody, it’s Monk Time!
