Tag: Eugene McGuinness

Bring your surfboard and get ready for a big fat middle finger to the man from The Lemon Twigs.

It’s the first night of the year where I arrive at the station in daylight. Also, it’s been unseasonably cool. But neither of those things is as notable as a new album from Toadies which brings up more of that brutal precision fuzz pop that made my ears perk up the first time I heard them over 30 years ago. Elsewhere tonight: a phone call from PJ, on the road, and middle-cased keyboards.

The Dandy Warhols are singing about a band, but it’s not the Misfits

“Is this the music, is this the music you like?” yell The Bug Club above a robotic repetitive riff. Yes, this is the music I like. Tonight’s special seems to be bands with names too sensitive to read over the air in Rural Colorado, like Pissed Jeans, Mannequin Pussy, and STRFKR. No matter, we’ll turn it into a game for the listeners.

It’s a formula as old as time — take four Japanese ladies, dress them up in color-coordinated dresses and makeup, and have them play aggressive earworms featuring kawaii harmonies and the lethal precision of a veteran death metal band. And yet somehow Otoboke Beaver rise above the rest of the entrants in this crowded field. Who am I kidding, they are one of a kind, and if you’re not listening to their latest album on repeat, you are missing out on a lot of endorphins.

Jade Hairpins don’t care about your repetitive song structures, man. That’s not how you cram five albums’ worth of material into less than forty minutes.