Bikini Kill Reunion in 2009?

Kill Rock Stars just sent out a “big mid year update” as they put it, basically talking about what each of their most active bands are up to lately (releases, tours, etc…).  All seemed normal and nothing special until it came to Bikini Kill.  The first line of the update for them was “No, no reunion news yet BUT we will be reissuing the very first Bikini Kill 7″ New Radio.”

No reunion news YET!??!?  Why would they write this in their artist update if there wasn’t a possibility of a Bikini Kill reunion soon? It has been 11 years since they broke up in 1998.  Musicfest NW (September 16th-19th in Portland, OR) seems to be a big possibility as they have slowly been announcing the bands playing and Portland is very close to the band’s hometown of Olympia, WA.  Judging by the lineup so far, which includes The Get Up Kids, Dillinger 4, and Mudhoney, a Bikini Kill reunion would fit in very nicely.

As nasty as they wanna be: Sonorous Gale’s “Two’s A Crowd” LP

Sonorous Gale “Two’s A Crowd” (Wrongfoot Records) 

What justice does time do to heavy music without at some point busting it apart down to the ugly, important pieces? A riff is a riff is a riff unless you have some filthy ideal of power mixed with grace, of exploration without regard for “the scene.” That has always produced some of the best in devastating music: those epic metal albums of your gas-huffing youth produced by toiling heshers; the isolated and misunderstood backgrounds manifested by relentless modern ragers. 
After months of labor pains, softball injuries, returns to the mixing board, and Czech mailing errors, Sonorous Gale has put out a difficult ray of dark hope that will, thank Satan, never be a DJ favorite. 
“Two’s A Crowd” — eight tracks self-released on nice white vinyl – never tries for the fun-now sound and, instead, freely roams between the concrete-weight whims of its two creators, bassist/vocalist Aaron Weese and drummer Stephen Kerfien. Any flashpoints of referential bands are surprisingly layered (for a duo) within a contradictory drum beat or melody, clearly the result of hours of practice room dissection and fucking jamming. 
There is an element of the sausage factory at work here; you never directly hear the practical elements and necessary obstacles that stood in the way of its completion. They scraped mixes, poured over bass harmonies and smashed their tiny piggy bank to keep it all going somewhere in the last year-and-a-half. Despite this, their effort was not along the lines of a redemptive made-for-TV tale full of break-ups or sharing revenge-oral sex with each other’s loved-ones that gives some bands more notoriety than their songs. Propped up by a monstrous and diverse final recorded product — bass reverb? and how huge is that drum set? — “Two’s A Crowd,” is more real than the sounds of any band mired in high school dramas, as it uses daily punishment and joy as the collage of expression, for better and for worse. 
Side A works well as an introduction for the Buffalo band. Starting with “To Completion,” you hear a willingness to hammer down on sludge parts, but with bass and vocal melodies and flashy cymbals that keep the song from getting lost in the muck. Minutes later, “Maytham Manor” brings the thunder and tricky verse points that set the band apart from the kitsch of many other two-man bands. The song is probably the best representation of their live show, the craftsmanship in combining doom, majestic lyrics and lock-step tightness. 
Never leaving too many bread crumbs with their tracks, the third song is an instrumental, a curiously placed touch on the best 70s prog parts and, well, punk. The first side closes with more slight of hand, the downer “Cake In The Wings.” Guest vocalist Spoke gives her first complimentary accompaniment here — Weese obviously has a vision for the voice of the song, and he’s willing to share the soapbox to see it through. 
As the first side gives multiple strong hints at where Sonorous Gale can take songs, side B skips the innuendo without missing the magic. There is something very fragile in the latter four songs of this record, maybe just because it’s so rare to hear a heavy band unafraid to come off as human yet unwilling to sound like babies. 
“Shattered Fingers,” again featuring Spoke, is a true basement show rocker, wrapped up in lyrics that are vague but sung with appropriate desperation and a bass line recalling Cliff Burton at his un-wanky best. Kerfien, never missing chances for jazzy flares, ratchets up the snare and hi-hat surprises minus any showy defaults. 
“Dogmatic Equations,” the band’s early “single,” shimmers bright on the big vinyl, its plodding drum rolls carrying through every headnodding stop. Both men stretch far for “Glimpse,” the most emotive track on the record. Black Sabbath separated the stoner-soft from the punishing on “Master of Reality”; here, Kerfien and Weese meld those elements for the album’s best song, as striking as it is personal. A lesson in restraint, it feels like the hard pulses of the choruses are earned by the players and ultimately the listeners. 
Barely outdone is the damned clever closer, “Clandestiny.” As with “Maytham Manor,” there is a smoothly stuttering verse hook followed by drums that dominate like some kind of rhythmic Harley. The song is a perfect end piece for this complicated-but-rewarding album. 
In a society where, increasingly, now is already yesterday, it’s refreshing to hear something not instantly dismissed nor masturbated over. (The unique cover art adds another question mark to the package with a combination of natural imagery and techno-phobe design squiggles) 
The time spent being their own band and, often because of that, bashing their heads against the practice room walls has led to this lasting sound. At its multiple great moments, “Two’s A Crowd” is the refusal of ease or technical bludgeoning, recalling a day when complex efforts were not a lost art. 

(Note: I am friends with both of the people in this band. That means I could tell them if this record sucked. Or if it sounded like this. Thankfully, I don’t have to do either of those things.)

Portastatic – Some Small History

Oh Portastatic, what more can you do? Aside from pumping out the best rock (or rock informed?) music for the past 15 years, you’ve released countless 7” singles, contributed to some classic compilations and zines, and released some beautiful and varied full length albums. The last two proper albums, 2005’s Bright Ideas and 2006’s Be Still Please, have been about as good as music gets, with catchy tunes, great lyrics, creative production and some stellar guitar noise. I just don’t understand why this isn’t loved by any body with a beating heart and working ears.

Maybe the reason Portastatic never quite became the household name of Pavement or Sebadoh is because Portastatic never really broke up. And if a quick Google search is to be believed, it is mostly known as Mac McCaughan’s side project for a band called Superchunk. Huh. I hope the custodians of music history have been kinder to his other band.

A CD collection of loose ends and previously vinyl-only material is pretty much the last milestone of any long-running musical endeavor. Some Small History is about as all over the place you’d expect of any collection of fifteen-plus years of material. There are rough gems and full-on (if-indie-rock-got-played-on-the-fucking-radio) hits, and some pretty stellar covers. “Oh, My Sweet Carolina” makes me regret anything negative I’ve ever said about Ryan Adams. Of the non-cover variety, “Some Small History” and the classic “San Andreas Couch,” which open up disc two, showcase back-to-back the most rewarding qualities of both hi-fi and lo-fi respectively, and will make you reconsider which side of the fidelity fence you’re on that day.

Regardless of which disc you’re on, there are going to be songs that don’t quite belong on a mix tape. That would be problematic if the songs were arranged chronologically, but the songs that are less fully realized are placed poignantly throughout the collection to give a sense of fullness and depth. It feels as if you’re listening to an album that took 15 years to make.

Mac McCaughan has been making music for a long time, and this collection shows that through sheer willpower he can turn what should have been a disconnected collection of odds and ends into a compelling and creative album.

You can stream the full record for a limited time at the always classy Merge Records site.

What other blogs are saying about Portastatic – Some Small History:

• Prefix

• Pitchfork

• Hard To Find a Friend

• Pop Matters

9 great conflicted love songs (plus, a lousy one)

In the spirit of the phoniness of Valentine’s Day, which propels many couples into evenings of loving looks, dinner and, hopefully, a handjob, here are a few of my favorite conflicted love songs (listed in no particular order), plus one that I can’t stand. Feel free to comment on your own favorite or hated tracks that mix passion and anger into some mild sexual stew.

1) “I Hate You, I Love You” by the Dead Milkmen: “Look back to the time we met / Were things better, I forget” … ah, the rare, somewhat serious track by these Philadelphia goofballs. It’s fairly straightforward, with the rare, scrappy vocal performance by Joe Jack Talcum (I believe) and is a real standout on their spottiest album. Where a lot of their songs rely on words upon words to build and sustain a funny premise (ex. “V.F.W.”, “Sha-Na-Na”), it’s the simplicity in these lyrics that keep it both charming and humorous. It’s the ultimate pop-punk expression of someone who doesn’t know if their heart is coming or going.

2) “I’m Still In Love With You” by Al Green: Al Green was never big on tons of lyrics, but the sweet waves in his voice are usually all that is needed to punch you in the heart and jiggle on your privates. In this subtle number, Green gives you the sense that he really loves this lady, but still has to put it out there for some reason (like buying flowers for someone in the middle of the week, it’s rarely for something positive that happened).

3) “Wave a White Flag” by Elvis Costello: It’s a heart-felt musical projection of the inside of that house at the end of the street where the cops often haul away a drunken guy in a Van Halen T-shirt and his old lady continually refuses to press charges. Is it true love blurred by port wine? Or utter dependance kept in line with mutual destruction? Either way, it would be pretty sad if it weren’t for Costello’s perfect acoustic tongue-in-cheek presentation.

4) “He’s a Rebel” by The Crystals: If you can’t change ‘em, join ‘em. It’s a joyous, harmonious display of the kind of relationship where everyone’s advice to run away only pushes you closer. It was also The Crystals only No. 1 hit (fairing far better than their other troubled epic, “He Hit Me (And It Felt Like A Kiss)”, co-written by Carole King, no less!) And who would know troubled “love” set to music better than producer Phil Spector?

5) “I Luv You” by Dizzee Rascal: Dizzee and a female accomplice turn the abuse of the phrase “I love you” (misspelling in the track name aside) upside down, with cockney tell-offs peppered throughout. The threat of a baby from a girl that may be the lead male character’s “wifey” as well as the admission that he was “hacked by the whores” all touch on woes in the real relationships that pass through family court all day long.

6) “I Need You” by NoMeansNo: This genius Canadian three-piece always spins the yin with the yang in their songs on love — as well as the occasional knife fight. On “I Need You”, there is the feeling that you come back to someone because, well, you don’t want to die alone and you’ve already shown this person your ugly side. Included are the admission that: “I can’t pretend any more / To you I can’t pretend”.

7) “Once In a While” by Harvey Milk: Out of the crushing, white-man’s blues build-up in the first half of the perfect “Special Wishes” album comes this gem, a broken hi-hat vision of The Band if all the members were going through divorces at the same time. Here, Creston Spiers is the broken man too tired to pick up the pieces of some love that has been gone a decade if it’s been a minute.

8) “Maybe Again When I Leave U” by His Name Is Alive: On-again, off-again love, taunting each other with desire and dispersions of the other “devils” out there on the meat market. His Name Is Alive puts it over some odd keyboard beats and deteriorating electronics, with female vocals that make you consider leaving whatever situation you’re currently in to join her seemingly troubled artistic world.

9) “I Don’t Want to Get Over You” by Magnetic Fields: Half of the songs from the three-disc “69 Love Songs” could probably be on this list, but rhyming Camus with vermouth makes this one win out. The song seems to say, “You know what, fuck it, I’m digging my heels in and I’m just going to mourn and prove this to you. Even after you clearly have moved on.” And, as with almost all of their songs, it’s clever rather than quirky — as in lines like: “I could leave this agony behind / Which is just what I’d do / If I wanted to” — which leads you to just put this 2-minute wonder on repeat.

And the stinker … “Barbed Wire Love” by Stiff Little Fingers:  Any attempt at capturing the dueling feelings of love in a base punk song was clearly lost on Stiff Little Fingers in this song. Lyrically put together around a war theme, “Barbed Wire Love” is somehow stupid in content even for punk, with tired chord progressions to match. Across the British Isles, The Buzzcocks repeatedly used actual wit and fantastic hooks rather than kitsch to convey truly good songs about the endless facets of love. Worse than all of that, “Barbed Wire Love” is among a catalog of others in the 70s punker scene (”I Got Your Number” by Cocksparrer, “Love Song” by The Damned) that led to some type of spikey-hair band requirement for at least one trite “punk love” track each record (see “Punk Rock Love” by The Casualties).