EVERYBODY knows real shows happen at outdoor venues. Take Woodstock for example, those guys knew what they were doing. There’s a reason why festivals like Woodstock, Live Aid, and Glastonbury are still remembered while the house show I went to last week isn’t: It’s because they were outside. No one would give a rat’s ass about Woodstock ‘94 if there hadn’t been all that mud–And getting all that shit indoors would’ve been a logistical nightmare. Taking in the scenery and being one with nature is the only way to experience live music. You wanna know why?
If the show is outside, I can smoke as many cigarettes as I want. You know how many cigarettes I can smoke inside? Fucking zero. Do you know how many times I’ve been shit on by a bird or stepped in some other animal feces at an indoor show? Not zero but the number is a hell of a lot less than outside. The only way to rectify my local scene is to do what all these venues are too scared to do: literally blow the roof off of the place.
In fact, I’ve already started. I was removing one ceiling tile every night at my local dive bar, since they don’t have the money to replace them. However, about two weeks in, someone saw me adding to my stash of tiles in the trunk of my car and I got banned. So, then I started taking a more efficient approach and broke the skylight at a house show. That still wasn’t enough for me though–-So I got my buddy and a hammer and we just went fucking crazy on the roof.
Surprisingly, people were not pleased to find the show now taking place in a venue without a roof. Don’t they know anything about culture? Fucking posers. Because of this, I had to get out of there–and fast. I skipped town that night and haven’t looked back, despite my landlord demanding I still pay rent as if I’m not on the run.
It’s fine though–Once I gain enough trust in my new city’s scene I’ll be able to get right back to my plan.
Let’s start with a really, really new release: Chicago, Illinois’ Action/Adventure puts the Slash in Guns N’ Roses, and the adventure in “Adventures in Babysitting” in the best, albeit not comedic, or, wait for it, without levity. Yeah. Anyway, that new fangled Tiktok may have assisted the band in getting to where they are now, but their killer live show and even better songs are what keeps ‘em here. Chicago may be so two years ago, but 2023 belongs to A/A, regardless of whether the band has imposter syndrome or not. Spoiler alert: They shouldn’t.
Fans of mid-’90s alternative like Jellyfish, Superdrag, Fountains Of Wayne, and Gloria Gaynor would jump all over Born Without Bones’ fantastic LP “Dancer,” but we doubt that most of you punks heard of this record, let alone the bodacious band. Like Action/Adventure and the yet-to-be-mentioned Moon Tooth, Born Without Bones released a fantastic album in 2022, countering your lie that there haven’t been any good albums since 1997’s The Mighty Mighty Bosstones’ breakout “Let’s Face It” record, containing the hit, “The Impression That I Get” and several alcoholic bugs whose days are numbered because they’re stuck in regal oil. Milford, Massachusetts is so much more than freaking Milford pink granite, and Born Without Bones substitutes the “pink” for “punk” when describing said coarse-grained rock. If you dig this one, check out BWB’s “Baby” album despite the fact that it isn’t a PNR release.
Hey, Amy, but not Amy Fisher, this act is easily the best band name here, or even in the “scene” as a whole, and Keansburg, New Jersey’s Can’t Swim deserves your clothes, more than fifty million dollars, Amy, and your love, which never fails to be loving for lovers of loving love. If you’re reading this, you likely know about this rad band already, and you’re not a kid who is a hater of hating hate; you’re truly stranger than fiction and you won’t sleep until a big idea is placed right beside Molly’s desk, or inside her kiss kissable lips that are soaked in incesticide. Like the band we just alluded to, the two-thousand-and-seventeen piece Them Crooked Vultures, Can’t Swim is a grungy powerhouse in a life jacket world. Thankfully they’re still going strong, even if all of the moves they make are in the dark.
We’re up to the oldest entry here, and we’re still shocked that Forever Came Calling’s short, short LP “Contender” is not only a decade old, but that it didn’t cause the band to get to heights that non-label pop-punk peers Neck Deep, Man Overboard, We Are The In Crowd, and The Make-Up climbed to around this time. Debuting for many during 2010s very telling documentary on Warped Tour’s “No Room For Rockstars,” FCC showed that bands from regions that aren’t populated near “A” markets can still succeed or “succeed” as long as they hustle hard, and Pure Noise Records quickly nabbed the act after this feature came out. Moral of the story: Don’t kill yourself at all, or especially to shock your friends, read Charles Bukowski’s controversial book “Women,” never stop learning, regardless of how difficult life gets, and you’ll be better, we promise, unless you’re not.
Gnarwolves’ self-titled debut is a perfect LP for those who like their punk rock with a slice of gruff/a plate of dirty melody. Sadly, the band only made one record after this and split up just one year after “Outsiders” was released. We still think that the band was doomed from the start because of their goofy name, which worked in Hoobastank’s favor, but the British wolves sadly had to stay at the gate, and the reason is you; bad name, everybody’s fault. Still, we love power trios, and you should revisit this tight/concise record, which turns ten next year, if you haven’t spun it in a bit. If not, please check out this ten-song studio album. In closing, if you want to hear what it would be like if A Wilhelm Scream covered Microwave, listen to track four, “Bottle to Bottle,” right this very minute.
And now for something completely different: The first ever “Sad Summer Tour” was populated by pop-punk/pop-rock bands such as The Maine, Stand Atlantic, Mayday Parade, and so many more. Surprisingly said festival also included the funky AF party band with a killer song horn section to end and/or start all bashes known as Just Friends. Opening their LP “Nothing But Love” with a phone with some Wackadoodle sounds called “1-800-Chop-City,” the JF crew let its listeners know that Daniel LaRusso endorsed this band way before we all learned that he is a dick in “Cobra Kai”; sick flex, Johnny Lawrence and Terry Silver. Originally released in 2017 through Counter Intuitive Records, current home to Retirement Party, Origami Angel, Skatune Network, and The Kinks, Pure Noise Records snagged JF, and re-released “Nothing but Love” one year later; Dublin is not just in Ireland, y’all!
Long Island technical legends Moon Tooth made lunar objects appropriate benchmarks for a band’s proficiency, prowess, positivity and insert adjective starting with “P” here. Originally on Modern Static Records, the label that launched The (insane in the most glorious way) Callous Daoboys, PNR picked up the band, gripped the ridge, carried us home, and here we are today, gentle people without any blues, death wishes, back pain, or Allen Ginsberg’s original edition of “Howl at the Moon(tooth)”. “Phototroph” will appeal to both fans of Annie Leibovitz’s work and nutrient dense edibles from Manhasset’s Whole Foods Market, also home to North Shore University Hospital and obnoxious, deplorable, unforgivable, and silly accents. Inferior publications worldwide agree with us regarding this particular record, and whatever esteemed music critics write is gospel and you should be ashamed if you disagree in any way, shape, form, or sun.
We can’t really blame Canada and its provinces as a whole if you missed this record, but can certainly spout vitriol towards your lack of brains. Anyway, Oakville, Ontario’s Seaway is one of the more underrated bands in the rock and roll for your soul world, and have three other LPs to speak of that aren’t “Big Vibe,” and ALL of ‘em deserve your affinity and loyalty towards. Formed twelve years ago, Seaway bonded through friendship in the face of adversity, severity, strife, and disappointment in the form of going through high school that felt more to them like a jail cell, or even a penitentiary, together, and such bond shows in the giant aura of “Big Vibe”. We hope and long for a follow-up sooner than later, as 2020 is forever still blue, and 2024 is going to be a wild thing in the form of Ricky Vaughn.
Originally on Southern California’s Wiretap Records, and the now-canceled A-F Records, LA’s Spanish Love Songs released their third LP “Brave Faces Everyone” via Pure Noise Records to much critical acclaim, but its sales should be much, much higher, and if said mention here gets them at least one more stream, then our job is done or just starting. The fact that an indie AF record spawned THREE singles is quite an accomplishment whether or not you enjoy Latin lustful tunes, and honestly, said album could’ve had one or two more songs highlighted here. Fun fact: This album spawned a more electronic rendition just two years later called “Brave Faces, Etc.” two years later and said reimagining should entice many ardent/future SLS fans.
Let’s end with the newest release from this very year of our lord: Operation Ivy said it best, “Unity, as one stands together. Unity, evolution’s gonna come to Texas in the form of a ruckus!” Yeah, knowledge. UnityTX’s debut LP “Ferality” hit DSPs just one month ago, and successfully quenched the band’s fans’ thirst for a full-length studio album after several sick, sick, sick singles and EPs. For those that like their metal music with a cacophonic combination of hip-hop, solid grooves, impassioned screams, and the AEW by way of WCW grappler Sting, “Ferality” is for you and the IWC. Speaking of wrestling, Dallas isn’t just a Page, but it’s a city that rocks quite hard, and UnityTX proudly rep their state in their band name like pop-punk forefathers Fenix TX, but not NYC legends Texas is the Reason. No fake luv here, just roc sh!t.
Even though “America,” is the band’s fifth and highest charting record on the Billboard 200, and by far their most “pop” effort, it didn’t, err, pop with critics and longtime fans of the band. Furthermore, “America” inspired many negative and bitter social media comments from basements in Kentucky on the Letos’ pages, and all waters such as oceans, lakes, rivers, and bathtubs. Still, features from such underground metalheads as Halsey, A$AP Rocky, Hurley International clothing, and Rocky Balboa, successfully break the monotony in Journey’s “Africa”.
The band’s newest release “It’s the End of the World but It’s a Beautiful Day” isn’t Thirty Seconds to Mars’ worst album by a shortshot, but echoes the meh vibe of its predecessor, just with slightly better songs. This is likely accomplished via this LP being released with the largest gap between albums of the band’s career as Mr. Leto da frontman was quite busy playing the part of The Joker, the midnight toker, yelling Trapt’s critically praised ninth studio album “Requiem,” started a kombucha/sea cruise cult with Andrew Keegan of “Camp Nowhere”; Google it it’s weird. In closing, “Stuck” is a powerhouse opening track, and our/your boi Tomo is missed.
The first and last time that the word “thirty” is listed numerically for 30STM is on this debut record and its literal title, and the band subsequently removed such branding for all five albums moving forward to avoid blink-182, 22 Jacks, Against Me! 41, and Eiffel 65 comparisons, despite sonically sounding identical in every which way to all of the above. The band started far from the edge of the earth and/or oblivion with notable from Danny Lohner of Nine Inch Nails, Maynard James Keenan of every band of all time including Tool, A Perfect Circle, Children of the Anachronistic Dynasty, and Randall “Tex” Cobb, and Cher’s son with the now disgraced Eric Clapton. The songs here are great, but the band altered missions for the next three LPs that flew ‘em higher than 93 million miles.
“This Is War” would’ve been difficult for any band to follow-up, but “Love, Lust, Faith and Dreams,” despite having an album title worse than the lyrics in “Hollaback Girl,” is Thirty Seconds To Mars’ best album before 2005 and after 2009. Genre wise the album slightly deviated from symphonic alt-rock territory into a more experiential fashion, and ardently blindly faithful Leto-heads all over Varanasi, the City of Angels, France, and the hot and blinding sun rejoiced like conquistadors.
As we said and alluded to earlier, the next two albums from alt-J that we highlight below will once again spout a band name sans justification. This one belongs to My Chemical Romance in every Way from yesterday/today. Honestly, if the four singles from “A Beautiful Mind,” “Attack,” “The Kill,” “From Yesterday,” and the literal title track was a four-song EP called “A Beautiful Mind Because Of An Omission Of Six Songs,” Thirty Seconds to Mars would’ve trumped Ugly Kid Joe’s classic extended play “As Ugly as They Wanna Be.” Sadly, this album contains a tad bit of filler, and thus, pisses you off in the silver medal slot.
Let’s start this gold medal-winning 30STM album with a bold posit: Thirty Seconds to Mars’ third album “This Is War” has ZERO legally obligated “skip it” tracks here because there are ZERO songs worth omitting, and, in a lack of proof for such, The Smashing Pumpkins’ epically symphonic orchestral influence from “Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness.” “This Is War” as an entity is truly a well-read rainbow, and supplies its many fans with green M&Ms that don’t make you gassy and have antioxidants that Erewhon would smile at. Let’s end/escape this piece with one more band name/Jeff Goldblum reference: T. Rex.