MOON PUSSY – AT THE PACE OF OUTRAGE

What’s in a name? A name doesn’t define you; but you’re stuck with the name although there isn’t any correlation that you might share with it. Kevin Shields once thought My Bloody Valentine was a cool name, and all I could ever think of was the crappy B-movie horror roll of film they named the band after. But the band was stuck with it. Sure, when people now think of MBV, they think of the sonic explorations in sound, but for a select group of folk, the movie will always remain, a staple of poor performances. But I digress away from anything I should be focused on. Ok. This is about At The Pace Of Outrage (The Ghost Is Clear Records) the fourth full-length release by Moon Pussy, the trio made up of Cristina Cueller, Ethan Hahn, and Cory Hager. I can’t – and I won’t – claim to even know of the outfit out of Denver, Colorado, which does surprise me, as much as its album has. Right out of the proverbial gate comes “Click Bait,” with guitars buzzing around Cueller’s sung/shouted words. Fuck!!!!! Ok, all in! Her words are a sign of the times while the band gives no fucks delivering an explosive notes to tear the system down. The band’s “UK Nails,” rallies around a forceful rhythm and when Cueller offers, “Tradition is just peer pressure from dead people,” it may want you to reevaluate how much significance you give to it. Yeah, there’s no way you wouldn’t be able to enjoy the punk antics of At The Pace Of Outrage!

JESUS CHRIST TAXI DRIVER – TAXI THE RICH

While I normally relegate reviews to the week of release, the dates threw me off on this one. Seems this one was released digitally on March 19 but there’s some sort of other roll out for it today. (Ir)regardless, it’s not very difficult to get into Jesus Christ Taxi Driver, and the Colorado outfit’s collection of tracks on Taxi The Rich (Midtopia). Now while I’ve read some of the band’s self-professed influences (Jon Spencer, Ali Farka Toure), I may not fully agree, but then again, I may. There’s a blues aspect that’s pretty evident, as well as vocalist Ian Ehrhart’s jumpy vocal delivery on “Tractor Man,” but I hear stunning song structures pieced together, like an Elvis Costello might pen. It’s the simplicity of it all like on “White Roses” which isn’t forced and seeps to every crevice of your soul. Or maybe it’s the punch of the opening “Have It.” It’s intriguing, and it seems the band only gets better the more you play it. The soulfulness of the track that’s named after the band itself, shows Jesus Christ Taxi Driver doesn’t stick to any specific formula, but if it sounds right, allows the group to hold onto its identity, for fucks sake, they’re throwing it in. You have to be all in with Taxi The Rich. There’s no half-steppin’.

LAS CRUXES – S/T

Some people have had nicknames that some may not understand, but it always remains a cultural thing at most. Growing up, we had names like Papo, Goya, they called me Cabezón, and one of my mother’s boyfriends had a friend they called ñaja-ñaja. For him it wasn’t just a name but a reflection of how he spoke. I couldn’t understand half the things that came out of that man’s mouth, but that’s a story for another time.

Led by Yayo Trujillo, Las Cruxes has a revolving set of musicians behind it and has just released its self-titled (Million Stars) third long-player. Here we find an unexpected twist of Spanish language garage punk, fluently versed in pop culture. Don’t get it twisted though, this isn’t rock en Español; it flagrantly traverses across lines that get blurred. Songs are crisp and sharp, occasionally moving from one direction to the next. One moment, the band’s sound is loud with pleasant pop ambiguities, the next it moves into darker spaces as instruments take on shadowy tones. “AI Creepos” is what I keep going back to, as it slinks into what you might think are those sugary moments but then shifts quickly away into something gloomier. The brooding Trujillo words offer emotions that stem from cause & effect. It leaves me wondering who caused him to feel this way. The opening lines themselves, which loosely translate, “The sun melts, my skin made out of wax, I’m its son, a storm,” and the rest hit with vehemence & toxicity with “There’s no escape, your mouth spits pure lies with/through venomous skin and steel lips…” Sure there’s anger, but this almost feels like a release of sorts. It just might be therapeutic.

Of course, you just might keep going back to “Sin Ti” like I have, with its infectious melody the band milks for all its worth. Trujillo drags out his words, allowing them to linger out there but it’s the chorus that’s interesting. When he sings “Sin ti no hay nada en mi camino / Sin ti puedo respirar / Sin ti eh perdido el vacio / Sin ti puedo continuar,” I imagine something different. For what could be a myriad of reason I’ve taken “Sin ti” and mixed it up with “Sentir” in my mind. But it all makes sense as he shares how there are so many things he’s unable to do without his love. In essence, he’s unable to “feel.” It might be a stretch but I’m willing to take that bet. Trujillo’s wording and love language is clear and on point. Just listen to the masterful “Déjà vu,” which rides the sonic escapade of his emotions, which he wears on his sleeve, completely explicit for that one person who understands him. No words need to be expressed; it’s a connection on a different level. It’s so unbelievable, he can’t even imagine it. All this on a bed of catchy pop gooeyness. If there is a favorite amongst the collection of tracks, this is probably it. Well, with “Imposible” coming in a close second which takes the story in another direction as he gets more and more comfortable being away. Yeah, there’s a story here that seems to run its course from one track to another.  

The self-titled release by Las Cruxes is intriguing, with just one English-language track, “By Frank.” I wonder who this Frank is, and just imagine Frank Black. Before I’m accused of making any cheap comparisons, because this isn’t one, while there’s no musical correlation between Frank Black, Black Francis, Charles Thompson III, I can’t help but think this is what he imagines he sounds like when he sings in Spanish. But it isn’t. It’s Yayo Trujillo and his crew, who stand apart from the rest of the rock indie world.

DOUG GILLARD – PARALLEL STRIDE

Everything comes full circle, and when your kid throws on his playlist in the car, I’m left always asking, “Who’s this?” A current stream of modern-day “indie rock,” a term, I tell him, which was coined by my generation. No cares about it, and this comes with no regard for my own suggestions. It seems my work here is done.

But enter: Doug Gillard. Again. While many won’t recognize the name, so many more will. Initially cutting his musical teeth with Cincinnati’s Death Of Samantha, along with John Petkovic, and then later as a founding member of Petkovic’s fantastic swaggering Cobra Verde. He’s a recognizable member and contributor to Guided By Voices these days while also releasing his own solo works. Gillard’s 2004 release Salamander, was when he really came into his own as a well-renowned talent as a solo artist. While releases under his own name have been sparse – Call From Restricted (2008), Parade On (2014) – he’s never stopped recording, and today sees the release of his new album, Parallel Stride (Dromedary Records). If there’s one thing Gillard is capable of, it’s writing the great guitar pop rock song.

It seems to be what he’s quick to do, opening the album with “Face of Smiles,” with a signature style that we’ve become familiar with on group projects he’s been on. But here it’s different; his voice is soothing and inviting, while seducing us all with his enticing melody. It’s still early in the release, but this is why Gillard is regarded as one of the best musicians of our time. “Until I See You Again” might throw you off initially when it starts because it does sound as if it were recorded in a Springsteen session. It’s the galloping rush alongside the horns and piano that throws me off there, but once those instruments are slightly separated, Gillard’s identity is pronounced with a delicate force. Then there’s the punch of the piano-led “Lost Alarmists,” where the instrumentation seems to run fully across the song, barely moving into a chorus, allowing for something more like a long repetitive verse. It’s repetitive but not repetitious.

We all understand what Doug Gillard is capable of, whether he’s moving in line through direct pop culture, or deciding to shed it for something much more glam(ourous). Either way, Gillard is a force to be reckoned with, and Parallel Stride enables us to understand the complexities of his talent.

TOFUSMELL – ALL MY TIME

Have you ever been torn between the past, the present, and what could possibly be the future? Yeah, there are moments all around that might trigger nostalgia, forcing your hand at moving slowly across old record collections, film, and photo albums, that could tear your psyche asunder if regression takes a complete hold over you. But then you might understand you have to let go and move towards the future, no matter if your present situation shows signs of similarity to your past. But this just might be one of those moments.

Tofusmell is the moniker utilized by Florida / Winnepeg, Manitoba’s Rae Chen, who has just released the debut All My Time (Hardly Art). Chen has had a couple of EP releases prior to the new album, and I’ve purposely avoided them. But there was never going to be a moment I’d be able to avoid this album. I’m sure, like most, the proverbial elephant in the room needs to be addressed, and it’s a ghost that will chase Rae Chen time and time again. It’s the voice; the quiet rasp, the delicate airy breath words hang around are not so unlike that of Elliot Smith. This isn’t a slight at Chen / Tofusmell, but the utmost of compliments. But there’s much more to the artist than a simple comparison, and their paths never crossed, considering Smith was gone a few years before Chen was born. I digress.

All My Time is filled with generous pop songs, sung with Chen’s relaxed delivery, sometimes doubling up on vocals, with precision and beauty. “Dreams I’ve had” rallies around Chen’s acoustic guitar and voice while being uncannily infectious. But it’s when the rhythm section comes in at just about the minute-and-a-half mark that this folk song turns into this little pop rocker. His words feel soothing, although his thoughtful imagery might seem all over the place. It’s descriptive, as much as confusion is filtered in through dreams. It’s quite clever though. With Tofusmell, he does come into his own, and “Walk Me Back to Nothing” showcases that. The song itself seems fragile, but never on the brink of falling apart. There’s a lusciousness to the song, built around his voice, guitar, and a few keyboard notes before the low-end slinks right in. It’s a wash of rain in a quiet storm, lightning in the distance. Instruments and voices dance all through the squall, and it’s all very precise.  

As recordings go,  Tofusmell’s All My Time just might be the standout we were looking for. The young new artist who just might change the musical landscape around us with his compositions that both never fails to entertain, as well as being completely thoughtful with purpose. Yes, this is the artist you didn’t know you needed.