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April 17th, 2012

Departures :: David Clayton Thomas with The Fabulous Shays – Barbie Lee b/w Lucy [1964]

David Clayton Thomas with The Fabulous Shays - Barbie Lee b/w Lucy
This is the first (and hopefully last) time anything Blood, Sweat, and Tears related will appear within our northernly quadrant. Thankfully, most things of a fantastic nature endure humble beginnings, and David Clayton Thomas’ second single on ACTA embodies this vision. Paving the way for the ensnarled, rabid, wave known as garage-punk, Thomas embodies the enigmatic Bo Diddley on his first two singles. However, somewhere hidden within “Lucy”, DCT breaks the brooding, bass-frothy organ with a scorching scream. The resulting shreddery kick-starts the droning organ that wraps the cacophony in wondrous 4-4 time. Certainly not psychedelic, nor overly punk, “Lucy”‘s simplicity is its charm, and for whatever reason, its present is totally without mention within the DCT discography. Thanks to Brandon Hocura / Polyphasic Studios for the transfer. Rad.

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David Clayton Thomas with The Fabulous Shays – Lucy

March 28th, 2012

New Canadiana :: The Soupcans – Altered States

The Soupcans - Altered States
Toronto’s finest trash heap trio returns with another quick fix for the pigfuck junkies. The gnarled guitar riffs squeal like an alley cat stretched through a meat grinder, while the fat-stripped rhythm section hits harder than Soda Popinski. Essential 2012 gripitude from the ever-swelling catalogue of Pleasence.

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The Soupcans – Shocked!

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The Soupcans – Blood Sacrifice

March 12th, 2012

Departures :: The Stonefield – Deep Shades of Blue b/w Morning Hours [1967]

The Stonefield - Deep Shades of Blue bw Morning Hours
Hailing from one of the most northernly outposts in Canada, The Stonefield remain an enigma within the Canadian garage-punk cosmos. An easy personal favorite and serious head-scratcher with its brutal fuzz massacre, dual piano weirdness, and bewildering A/B-side pairing. “Deep Shades of Blue” oozes an addictive, lysergic weariness with its mid-tempo somber organ stuck firmly in a minor-key while their drummer, seemingly in his own universe, augments the pacing with a complete disregard for drum pattern awareness. “Morning Hours”, the track that has grippers sweating this single pretty hard, is equally confusing, with a relentless bawdy piano swirling beneath the primitive fuzz lead, secondary organ (two keyboards?!), and bleary vocals (singer Joe Verheyden has stated that he had a flu the day they recorded). The pièce de résistance hits mid-way through “Morning Hours” when one of the most intense and ridiculous fuzz-guitar solos totally drowns out the entire track. I once drove to The Hub of the Peace (Rycroft) on a mission to uncover the mystery behind the band and their insanely obscure 7″ to little success. They recorded in Edmonton and later reformed as The Exit, leaving the rest of the world to ponder the sheer awesomeness and absurdity of their legacy. I’d like to dedicate this post to my very close friend Jon Murphy who has brought a much needed light to many unknown 60s singles throughout Canada, including The Stonefield.

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The Stonefield – Morning Hours

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The Stonefield – Deep Shades of Blue

February 9th, 2012

New Canadiana :: Lantern – I Don’t Know b/w Out of Our Heads

Lantern - I Don’t Know b/w Out of Our Heads
Cheaper than a leather jacket but equally effective at scaring your parents, Lantern’s new single takes them to new levels of speaker-blowing oblivion. “I Don’t Know” resurfaces from this summer’s tape on Night People, jabbed with adrenaline by drummer Sophie White’s Maclise-via-hambone beat. But B-side “Out of Our Heads” is the true highlight—nearly five minutes of relentless bass-as-extra-tom-tom, high pitched smears of sneers, and a final solo of celestial murk. For Cuban heels only.

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Lantern – I Don’t Know

August 29th, 2011

New Canadiana :: The Shrapnelles – Asscalibur

This three-song debut EP by four gloriously greasy Calgarian trashwomen will remind you of all things dirty, bad for you and therefore irresistible: the burn in your throat after a shot of SoCo; the oily bartender with prison tats who pours your pint in a way that loosens your knees; your friend’s mom who wears too-short shorts, makes jokes about anal sex and always shares her menthols. Opener “My Mom is Hot” is a bristly beast, off and running with nary a word, but out of nowhere comes “Desert Furs”, which begins as a swooning ballad and suddenly lurches into a galloping, howling expression of hot-blood love (or maybe it’s hate). This record rips with a snarling beauty. Please mummies, I want some more.

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The Shrapnelles – Desert Furs

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The Shrapnelles – My Mom Is Hot

August 2nd, 2011

New Canadiana :: Red Mass – Sadness

The latest release from Red Mass kicks off with the bluesy groove-mare “Mule Stone Hourly.” Above a froth of warbling riff and fuzz, bandleader Choyce calls across the muck. “I work these hands/Bloody hands,” he moans, breaking off into a Sabbathy solo overlaid with searching slide guitars far from the flesh and far into the ether. From here, we hear a rasping spoken lament for Arlis Perry, a woman murdered by ice pick at Stanford University in 1974, intoned over a crackling bed of white noise and sonic hiss-flames. There’s also a bleakly romantic reflection on mercy — the ugly, Nick Cave-ian kind — and the jingle-stomper “Mamie’s Got the Moves,” a “Papa Oom Mow Mow” for a generation of consumptives. It’s the happiest song on a tape called Sadness, and yet somehow it prowled my dreams, lingering and restless, for weeks.

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Red Mass – Mule Stone Hourly

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Red Mass – Mamie’s Got the Moves

May 5th, 2011

New Canadiana :: Ultrathin – Glass City b/w Don’t Mess

There once was a time when Ultrathin were taking things a bit smoother as a four piece. As a trio, these Montrealers present this 7” of ripping garage punk with pummeling drums that will take you through both sides of the wax without the hope of a Sunday brunch. “Glass City” charges with no fear of what’s ahead and ends with scars in the face (plus a shredding solo). The cadence slows down on the other side for the ridiculously heavy “Don’t Mess” so those bros can play, hit and shout louder. There’s something slightly evil in the band’s energy, and this is for the lion, not the lamb. Because you have it better when your middle name is Danger.

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Ultrathin – Glass City b/w Don’t Mess

April 1st, 2011

New Canadiana :: Topless Mongos – Hey My My b/w Theme from Human Centipede

These mongos mix furiosity, intensity, hooks, throw back and right now! You’ll fall in love with your tormentor. Hard boiled garage punk on the A-side, full of slurred, straight-up, brief-and-rough hooks that’ll dig deep into your brain. Side B is similarly grimy and tight, with some pervey muffled vox over old-but-new gar(b)agey riffs, with nods to the sickest flick. After 60 years, rock ‘n roll is still exciting, and you have bands like the Topless Mongos to thank.

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Topless Mongos – Hey My My

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Topless Mongos – Rowena

March 1st, 2011

New Canadiana :: Fist City // Moby Dicks – Blow b/w All The Time

The Scotch Tapes (Cas)Singles Club launches like a wrist shot straight to the top shelf where grandma keeps the peanut butter. By now, regular readers of Weird Canada should be intimately familiar with the Fist City formula, and once again the razor-wire gtr-punks keep up their sister act with heart-racing panache. After an ear-piercing, amp-squealing intro, “Blow” dissolves into double-speed Daydream Nation sprawl, while the spoken-squawked vocals ring the alarm. Side B sees Southern Alberta brother band The Moby Dicks smudge and fudge through two minutes of B.T.F.O. bad-daditude, as frontman Joel Butler barks out commands over brain-buzzing riffs. Grip it and flip it and flip it again.

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Fist City – Blow

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Moby Dicks – All the Time

December 3rd, 2010

New Canadiana :: Dead Ghosts – Dead Ghosts

Dead Ghosts
Dead Ghosts
(Floridas Dying)
Vancouver, BC
::web/sounds::


From the living dead of Aaron Levin:
Bursting from the desperate vaults of R&R’s discrete past, Dead Ghosts is a shattering testament to the janglophone origins of pop. Reverberated country twang, phantasmic R&B, gnarly jangled garage, and indelible pop hooks bespeckle this game-changing thesis, throwing a Hegelian bomb into your square neighbor’s pool party. Grab the telephone, kick-down the door, wave your 4-4 and keep yelling: pop music ain’t gonna hit me no more. There ain’t nothing new without something old so grip it all while you’re still here to party.

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Dead Ghosts – Off The Hook

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Dead Ghosts – How The West Was Fun

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Dead Ghosts – I Want You To Know

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