Scissorfight: Potential New Agent For Unconventional Warfare CD review (Orlando Weekly)

The raw, masculine swagger of Scissorfight has lost none of its power over this New England group’s eight-year history. In fact, this five-track EP easily makes the case that these guys have only gotten cooler. Despite a brief hiatus, Scissorfight are still ahead of the curve when it comes to gutbucket shit-rock and, channeling equal parts of the Melvins’ thudding dissonance and the thick, redneck riffage of Masters of Reality, the band continues to defy “stoner-rock” pretense by delivering tight, groove-oriented rawk. Of course, being from New England, you’d think Scissorfight would be engaging in some sort of post-modern irony meltdown. And they may very well be. (A deeper listen to “Running the Risk of Raining Buffalo” gives some hints to the group’s above-average intelligence.). But what matters at the end of the day is that these guys sound like they’re dumbasses who don’t care about anything but crystal meth and rockin’ out. Which is what this world needs a lot more of.

First appeared in the Jan. 16, 2003 issue of Orlando Weekly.

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Cargo Cult: Strange Men Bearing Gifts CD review (Orlando Weekly)

Thanks to its genesis during the heady days of Austin’s legendary ’80s punk scene, Cargo Cult has always been a band referred to but seldom heard, unlike other local notables like the Dicks or Scratch Acid. Founded by vocalist Randy “Biscuit” Turner (after he broke up the legendary Big Boys) and counting guitarist Duane Dennison (who would go on to form the Jesus Lizard with fellow Austin misfits David Yow and David Simms) as a member, Cargo Cult released only one album during their one-year existence. And, as one of the first albums in Touch and Go’s catalog (this is Touch and Go #10), “Strange Men Bearing Gifts” has been largely unavailable since its release in 1986. Listening to it now, it’s easy to see why. Profoundly dated by its goth-punk overtones (there are a few uncomfortably Siouxsie-ish moments) and burdened by a ridiculously nonironic cover of “Slippin’ Into Darkness,” there’s little that makes this album notable other than its lineup. Patchy atmospherics and sloppy, pulp-lyrical imagery show a band attempting something “unusual.” In the same way that Skin Yard was a creepy exception to grunge, Cargo Cult certainly offered a different take on Texas post-punk. Even for a city as wild-eyed as Austin, once you (finally) hear how badly the band executed their ideas, it’s not hard to understand why the Cargo Cult’s tenure was so brief.

First appeared in the Jan. 16, 2003 issue of Orlando Weekly.

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The Steven McDonald Group: This Is Not a Rebellion — This Is a Mass Awakening! CD review (Orlando Weekly)

It’s extremely difficult to listen to the brief pop blast of “This Is Not a Rebellion” and not marvel at what could have become of Redd Kross. Though the band is officially “on hiatus,” it’s clear that it’s been relegated to archival status, with the reissue of “Neurotica” and an upcoming two-disc anthology to seal the legacy. With that historical burden lifted, the McDonald brothers have been able to explore other outlets and together — with Steven’s wife Anna Waronker and Jeff’s 7-year-old daughter, Astrid — they goof around as Ze Malibu Kids, an absurdist romp through “Americana.” Yet blissfully catchy pop has always been their prime forte, and out from under his brother’s reputation as Redd Kross’ primary architect, Steven proves that if the two were to again work on a straight-ahead rock & roll project, it would be truly impressive. With only five songs to make a judgment (SMG has been together for just shy of a year, so they can be forgiven for being less than prolific), it’s still clear that Steven’s got the juice to make AM-influenced pop rock like nobody’s business. Yeah, it’s mining the same basic territory as Redd Kross — wide-eyed harmonies, riff-conscious rockin’ and melodies out the wazoo — but the Steven McDonald group doesn’t seem burdened by the same weight of pop-culture irony that ultimately undid Redd Kross. It’s cheeky (I mean, just look at the title), but the five songs here are considerably more swinging and straightforward than anything Redd Kross ever did. No, it’s not groundbreaking or even the slightest bit challenging, but that’s all right. After all, revolution needs to be sweet.

First appeared in the Jan. 16, 2003 issue of Orlando Weekly.

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Open Hand: The Dream CD review (Orlando Weekly)

“The Dream” collects two five-song EP’s (recorded in 1999 and 2000, and self-released) from Open Hand, one of the most hotly hyped bands on the already well-hyped Trustkill label. Adding only one “new” song (from 2001), this new release doesn’t do too much to present a picture of where these guys are now, which is a shame, since Open Hand is a band that seems to be in constant progression. Perhaps “constant progression” isn’t a term you’re accustomed to seeing in reference to the post-hardcore scene, but Open Hand do stand out among their compatriots, given both their willingness and ability to move the genre in different directions. Though it’s only hinted at on these 11 songs, it’s clear that Open Hand are melding a variety of influences. Whether it’s the modal textures on “The Struggle,” the atmospheric assault of “Radio Days” or the sheer melody that propels “Life As Is,” there is considerably more going on than just a visceral attack. Hopefully, their next release will reveal the band’s progress more accurately than this one.

First appeared in the Jan. 16, 2003 issue of Orlando Weekly.

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Redd Kross: Neurotica CD review (Orlando Weekly)

To realistically cope with the reissue of a 16-year-old album that was already soaked in pop nostalgia when it was released, you must be possessed of a critical faculty that permits you to get so hypermeta that eventually the nutshell becomes the squirrel. That’s not what Redd Kross was ever about. From roots as snotty skate punks up through this 1987 candy-pop masterpiece (we won’t talk about subsequent major-label disasters), the McDonald brothers deftly combined punk irony with a severe love for the most saccharine aspects of pop culture without worry about the dialectical implications. Neurotica was the band’s shining moment and, with tracks like “Frosted Flake” and “Ballad of a Love Doll,” was quite revolutionary in its muscled-up punk-rock take on ’60s/’70s AM pop. Laying the groundwork for hundreds of bands (Rivers Cuomo acts like he wants to be Eddie Van Halen, but it’s obvious he’d be nowhere without Steven McDonald’s influence), Neurotica ushered in a new era of self-referential happiness at the end of the Reagan era. It still bristles with the energy that made it so exciting then. Now, how about a DVD of Spirit of 76? (This reissue is remastered with two bonus tracks.)

First appeared in the Jan. 16, 2003 issue of Orlando Weekly.

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