Ripple News - Criminal Records Got it Going On - The Kut and the Exits back in the Studio and Rocketclover Takes on Anarchy in the UK

I'm not so spoiled and jaded by being a part of this music machine to have lost my basic inner fanboy nature, and let me tell you, as far as being a fanboy goes, UK-based Criminal Records know just how to feed me.

First up, great news that The Kut are back in the studio preparing some new songs.  For those who may not recall, their single (green vinyl 7") "Doesn't Matter Anyway b/w Closure" was one of my absolute favorites of 2009.  The tightness of the riffing, the driving beat, the solid songwriting craft.  Damn, it just may be one of my favorite singles period.  To this day, I can not hear that song without getting happy . . . and isn't that what music's about?

So it tickles my Ripple heart to hear that the girls are reading some new tracks, and the demos that I've heard so far are killer.  Absolutely killer.  Heavy, tight, punchy, punky and kicky.  Great stuff.  I'm already anticipating having a new favorite single for 2011.  Catch the video to "Doesn't Matter Anyway" below.

Following that news, it's great to hear that The Exits are back in the studio with some new songs also.  "Neon City" was one of the great driving or dancing songs of last year, so my interest is piqued to see what they turn out next.

And finally, Criminal Records newest band, Rocketclover is causing a ruckus overseas with their unusual take on a punk classic, "Anarchy in the UK."   Originally released in 1977, The Sex Pistols’ ‘God Save The Queen’ was prevented from hitting No. 1 in the charts by the British government. Today media attention in the UK and beyond seems to be devoted to Prince William’s engagement, and it is soon forgotten that mere hours ago, university students were clashing with police in a protest to education cuts.

It sounds as though history repeats itself once again, demonstrating that Sex Pistols songs are still as relevant now as they were 33 years ago. ‘Anarchy In The UK’ would perhaps be a perfect soundtrack to the state of economic turmoil in one of the hardest recessions the younger generations are facing. However, while students protest and everyone is annoyed at the state of affairs, there is no real movement. The tongue-in-cheek cover of ‘Anarchy In The UK’ by Criminal Records’s latest signing ‘rocketclover’ has had some great support, but some more politically charged opposition.

A video shot in the streets of Camden Town accompanies the release and offers an ironic twist to the Sex Pistols’ classic. Although it looks like it’s been shot by a bunch of drunk teenagers, the video is being hotly debated as a dig at the lack of political clout when it comes to the state of government.

http://www.criminalrecords.cc/criminalrecordsbands.html


 

 

White Noise Sound - s/t

White Noise is not supposed to be music. Music is not weird sounds with lyrics over it. Most parents of the 1950s disregarded rock music as “loud noise” and considered it as nothing but shrill sounds. Fast forward 60 years later and that’s more of a reality thanks largely to today’s technology. Whether or not you enjoy it, synthesizers along with a plethora of gadgets have propelled electronic music as a mainstream genre, but most people disregard the genre almost entirely.

Now that’s not a fair thing to do considering how much great electronica exists, but I can completely understand where people are coming from. Unfortunately, I have an eclectic music taste and tend to ignore anyone who is not willing to experiment with their music choices. That is why I am obligated and honored to discuss White Noise Sound. Yes, as their band name implies there is a lot of white noise and weird sounds composing their music. There is no accurate way to truly to describe them because they’re psychedelic, space rock, shoegaze, ambient and noise rock.

Feedback drenched songs haven’t sounded so good before. White Noise Sound clearly creates compelling and contemporary music that blows your mind away. The Wales-based sextet is comprised of Dan Henley (vocals & synthesizers), Adam Tovey (vocals, guitar, keys & programming), Paul Griffiths (guitar), Rhys Hicks (guitar), Chris O’Keefe (bass), and Phil Stanton (drums). Labeling this “noise” is fun, fascinating and fatiguing, but well worth the effort to explore the essence of this great band.

“Sunset” sets the psychedelic and mind-numbing noise of this throwback and energetic-filled eponymous debut album. Louder and larger than life, their sound overpowers you. Wall to wall racket rock make this a unique, unconventional and unforgettable album that should not be missed. It’s so difficult to best describe this illustrious and inventive band. Their sounds seems reminiscent of unconventional artists like Scott Walker, The Velvet Underground, Eno, and The Velvets to name a few.

Their music is hypnotizing and mesmerizing that just leaves you aching for more. Synths should never be used this much, but if this is the result I want more hypnotic effects. I have been put under a spell and I am loving every minute of it! Other contemporary bands like Bloody Knives, Soundpool, Sea Exchange, and Highspire might be up your alley if you dig this kind of music.

Oozing out unsettling, yet uncompromising sounds they push the limits of what’s possible in music. Imagine a Syd Barrett led Pink Floyd exploring all their creative juices and taking their music to the next level in the 21st century and beyond. This throwback sound can’t help, but be compared to other psychedelic and stoner rock. You are witnessing and listening to the future of greatness. “Sunset,” “There is No Tomorrow,” “Blood,” “Is It There For You,”  and “Fires in the Still Sea” are arguably the best songs found on this must-listen album. If you haven’t already, stop reading right now and go check them out immediately. You won’t be disappointed!

-- Mr. Brownstone


Buy here: White Noise Sound
Buiy mp3: White Noise Sound [Explicit]
Buy vinyl: White Noise Sound

The Babys - Broken Heart

Guilty pleasures.

The Pope and I have differing views on whether they exist or not.  His argument, and it's a good one, is-- if you like it, then fuck it, you like it.  There’s nothing to feel guilty about.  Go ahead and scream it from the top of your neighbors 100 ft tall eucalyptus tree.  It's yours, go claim it.

And you can’t really argue with that.  But where I grew up and went to see shows, there was no way I’d dare walk down the meanstreets of East Oakland, passing the Hell's Angels on the corner of 66th Ave, in through the doors of the Oakland Coliseum for a Ted Nugent or Judas Priest concert wearing a Babys t-shirt.  One of us, either I or the T-shirt would leave looking worse for wear.  That's just a fact.

But times have changed, and I got so much music in my collection these days, of so many genres, tastes and sizes, that –yeah—I agree with Pope.  If I like it, then fuck, I like it.  And besides, at 6’2”, 240 lbs, I’m probably big and mean enough to kick the ass of anyone who tries to mess with my Babys t-shirt anyways.  So there, I said it.  I dig The Babys.

Prior to going solo and hitting it huge with his mega-hit “Missing You,” John Waite was the leader of this bunch of 70’s rockers who fused a glam edge to their mainstream, post-Raspberries MOR rock.  Releasing a couple of big hits of their own, “Isn’t it Time,” and “Every time I Think of You,” not everything The Babys did worked.  At times, they seemed like a band striving to find their own unique sound; and with a band that featured, Wally Stocker on lead guitar, Michael Corby on guitar/keys, Tony Brock on drums and Waite singing and playing bass, they seemed to just fall short of living up to their potential.

But when it came to finding that sound and potential, Broken Heart nailed it dead on.

Bringing in Ron Nevison to produce the album, just after his massive breakthrough with UFO’s Lights Out, was a stroke of genius.  Broken Heart is a deceptively heavy combination of 70’s AM pop and FM muscle, and definitely the most satisfying listen in The Babys catalog.  This is a big, symphonic stab of searing guitar rock and sugar-laden pop gems.

Starting off with orchestral arrangement of “Wrong or Right,” John Waite’s voice is in impeccable form.  No matter where the guy took his music, no one can claim that Waite can’t sing, and here’s he’s inspired.  Over a gently strummed acoustic guitar, strings rising and falling in the background, Waite sings, “when he takes you babe/oh when he loves you babe/my whole world comes apart/when he loves you babe” with dripping feeling.  Nothing maudlin or whiny about it, this is the song of a man who’s heart and soul are torn apart by the loss of a woman. We've all been there, and Waite captures it dead on.  Then, midway in, when the band kicks in, the song elevates to a powerful mid-tempo rocker with a great and steady groove.  Guitars slash in amongst the strings, leading up to a true searing solo. Throughout the melody is captivating.  A truly stunning album opener.

Then, lest you think you got the album pegged as AM radio fodder, “Give Me Your Love,” percolates out next all mean, dirty, and nasty.  Nevison really spins the dials well here with a huge drum sound and a surprisingly heavy guitar tone.  Sure the lyrics are sappy 70’s pap, but there’s nothing sappy about those end-verse spasms of Stocker’s guitar.  Taking a tip Nevison must’ve picked up from working with Schenker on Light’s Out, Stocker totally surprises here.  Bring on that big drum sound and this is a true heavy melodic rocker of the first order.  “And If You Could See Me Fly,” is also totally huge in its sound; big and raucous and totally sleazy in guitar tone.  Waite really breaks it down to gruff up a rock-and-roll vocal here and I don’t know what Tony Brock is pounding on but his drums sound like they’re being beaten by ogres.  Another big-time rock guitar riff and some more inspired electricity coming from Stocker’s fingertips and this song is simply mean and nasty.  Perhaps more nasty than you ever thought The Babys could be.

And in between these two slabs of AM metal, we get the sublime beauty of “Isn’t it Time.” Following a delicate piano intro, Waite again sounds pristine.  Bring in the flurry of gospel-tinged female backing vocals, raise the whole affair in a fury of strings and drums to that knock-em out chorus and we’ve got one of the best “lost” songs of 70’s radio.  Forget the band on this one; this is all Waite carrying the song, giving his most soulful performance through 4:03 of pop perfection.

Perhaps one of the most unexpected aspects of the album is the weight of it.  If you were expecting that The Babys were simply bright AM fluff, you got another thing coming.  Think back to UFO’s Lights Out and think about how that album felt like no other of the day.  A certain melancholy and meatiness to it, a dark sobriety.  That’s all here again. Whether on the fun-as-a-kick-in-the-ass pop rocker of the title track “Broken Heart,” the gentle orchestral strains leading to the crunch of the power ballad, “I’m Falling,” the street-wise grit rock of “Rescue Me,” or on their big UFO “Love to Love”-stab at epic rock “A Piece of the Action,” Broken Heart is an infinitely listenable album.  Waite never lets up on those stellar vocals and while you may not think of The Babys as a guitar band, Wally Stocker has got the chops to prove you wrong.

Don’t go here expecting riff mad 70’s metal.  What we got is much more refined than that, and certainly more pop friendly.  But also don’t let the poppiness sway you, for on Broken Heart, The Babys show that in their heart and crotch they were truly a rock band, and a formidable one at that.


--Racer

Buy here: The Baby's/Broken Heart
Buy mp3: Broken Heart
Buy combined with the Babys first album: Babys / Broken Heart




 

Black Bombaim - Saturdays and Space Travels

I don’t think I’ve ever heard a band from Portugal before checking out the new one from Black Bombaim. If there’s more shit like this going on there I may have a new vacation destination. These guys give Tia Carrera a run for their money in the mega-tripped out Jimidelic jam department. Equal parts Band Of Gypsys and Experience, Black Bombaim have an outstanding rhythmic groove that prevents the session from getting stale.

There are only 2 songs on the LP – “Side A” and “Side B,” both about 20 minutes long and recorded totally live. “Side A” starts off with some hellish feedback before settling into an almost Cactus-like boogie then morphs into a “Dirt” Stooges groove. “Side B” is faster and crazier. They must have re-upped during a break and decided to really let loose.

For a 3-piece they have a very full sound. “Acid Guitar Dropper” Ricardo’s tortured Strat howls and shrieks in the best way possible. “Bass Driver” Tojo and “Drum Smasher” Senra protect the beat but are fluid enough to maintain an ever expanding hydroponic groove. Chances are these guys have smoked a lot of dope and listened to Fela more than once.

There are only 300 copies of this LP, so track one down pronto. You can listen to the whole thing on their myspace page, but it’s totally lame listening to this kind of music through a computer. Shell out some bucks and do it up the right way.

--Woody

http://www.myspace.com/blackbombaim

War Dogs of the Pacific - Publish or Perish

It had been two years.  Two long years since the forces of good, those souls making interesting and vital music, had been forced to evacuate the Philippine Islands.  The evacuation had been necessary in the face of the unrelenting onslaught brought down upon the islands by the invaders, those evil entities creating mindless drivel in the form of music subsidized by Unclear Channel and Nonvitalcom.  Before I was forced to leave I made a promise to the loyal listeners in the Philippines.  I promised to return and liberate their ears, and I keep my promises.

Right now I’m standing in the rear of an amphibious landing craft making its way towards Leyte.  Outside of the crewmen steering and monitoring the LCP the only other passengers are the three young men who make up War Dogs of the Pacific.  Although they may look inexperienced, these men are grizzled veterans of their own island basement hopping campaign.  When I heard their music, I knew immediately that they were just the band I needed.  At the conclusion of their show, I approached and recruited them into my sonic warrior brigade.

For three days prior to the planned landing my air forces had been dropping thousands of musical care packages into every populated area of the island.  Inside these packages were copies of War Dogs of the Pacific’s new album Publish or Perish.  My strategy was to expose as many people as possible to the sounds of this band.  This in turn would break the populace out of their musical stupor and lead to mass discontent.  To channel those feelings I included one other item inside those care packages, a flyer announcing the band would be playing a free concert on the beach near the town of Palo on this date and time.

In an unbelievable bit of logistical magic, all of my landing craft hit the beach at exactly the same time.  I could see the seething mass of humanity expectantly waiting for us on the beach.  The front ramps on all the craft were lowered into the waiting surf, and with a determined battle cry my men sprung into action.  Five minutes was all it took to assemble an elevated stage and get the band’s equipment up and in working order.  My main engineer gave me the thumbs up, and I let the band know it was show time.  They each gave me a feral grin and went to work.

War Dogs of the Pacific refer to themselves as a pop punk/post-hardcore band, and who am I to argue?  Due to my unfamiliarity with the bands name dropped as important influences to their sound, I’m just going to jump right into the things I like about this group.  I certainly love the fact that their album begins with some serious musical subterfuge.  The first song, “People Are Gonna Get Hurt”, begins with a plaintive bass line that is joined by a rather delicate guitar melody.  It’s very disarming and guarantees the casual listener will be caught completely off guard when the drums and distortion effects explode into the song around the thirty second mark.  From that point on the song transitions into a full blown rocker until the entire band’s ammunition is spent.

Another aspect that I particularly like about War Dogs of the Pacific is that they sound like a bigger band than they are in reality.  Now don’t misunderstand, I’m not referring to studio trickery employed to confuse the listener.  Not at all.  The guitar, bass, and drums are easily delineated upon an even remotely close inspection.  No, some bands just produce a sound that can only be described as massive when played back.  War Dogs of the Pacific, in my opinion, is one of those bands.  Trust me when I say these three men know how to make quite a ruckus!

Vocal duties are split between the bass player and guitarist.  While the bass player (Joshua Charles Boardman) takes more of the burden than the guitarist (Martin Erroll Slomka), both are important to the overall sound.  This is where the post-hardcore influences appear easily in my mind.  Several times across the album I get a definite Fugazi vibe from the dual vocals, and that is certainly not a bad thing!  Honestly however, I can see someone listening to this music and not caring for the vocals due to their gruff nature.  Respectfully, I think this type of person is an idiot as it is that very gruff nature which makes the vocals so ingratiating to me in the first place.  The tonality fits perfectly with the music, and there is no lack of memorable vocal lines all throughout the album.

Outside of the tremendous first track there are a couple of other standout songs, although in truth not one of the eight compositions on offer fails to impress.  “Playing to a Click” features non-stop furious riffing and a fantastic chorus that keep the heads bobbing and weaving and the fans singing along.  “Anchors Away” blasts out of the gate, but then gradually devolves into near silence before rapidly building back up to a distortion filled eruption.  The finale of the album, “Bridgeburner”, is epic.  That’s all I can really say.  It is an epic, wonderful ride!

After the band had finished their set, I took the stage myself to deliver a few words I had prepared for the occasion.  “People of the Philippines: I have returned.  By the grace of the Almighty Ripple Effect quality artists are heard again on Philippine soil – soil consecrated in the good taste of our two peoples.  We have come dedicated and committed to the task of destroying every vestige of enemy control over your daily listening habits, and of restoring upon a foundation of indescribable strength, the musical liberties of your people.”

Exit, stage left, to roars of applause.

--Penfold

The Band has made the entire album posted at www.wardogsofthepacific.bandcamp.com for free digital download

ortoPilot - The Weatherman

From 1976 through 1979 you couldn’t find a rock AM radio station that didn’t have one or more Al Stewart songs in the rotation.  Hits such as “The Year Of The Cat,” “On The Border” and “Time Passages” provided a steady and jazzy folk rock background to the times. 

Ten years earlier Bob Dylan crashed his motorcycle and was injured.  During his convalescence he wrote demos for other up and coming talent including “This Wheel’s On Fire” for Julie Driscoll; “You Ain’t Going Nowhere” for The Byrds; and “The Mighty Quinn” for Manfred Mann.  However, he spent most of his time playing in his basement with a band called Big Pink that would ultimately become The Band.  When Al Stewart hit the airwaves in 1976 Dylan was completing The Band’s farewell tour, The Last Waltz.

I don’t know if Dylan and Stewart have ever played together.  If they have I haven’t heard it. Dylan is an American raised in Minnesota whose personal folk music is greatly affected by the British Invasion and the blues.  Stewart hails from the U.K. and originally worked with legends such as Jimmy Page and Alan Parsons before finding his own stardom in the U.S. If they had made music together what would it sound like?  What type of lyrics would they write?  How would they orchestrate the music?  Would they be any good?

Now, I think I know the possible answers to these questions. In my inbox was a new thirteen track release of original material from ortoPilot called The Weatherman.  ortoPilot is basically the band name for Matt Hutchison.  Hutchison is from Manchester, U.K. and is probably best known for YouTube videos of song covers (he has also released five volumes of covers.)  This, The Weatherman, is his third, and latest, release. 

The release moves Hutchison away from his bedroom covers and provides a professionally recorded, and satisfying, baker’s dozen of original tunes.  Hutchison’s smooth Manchester accent has the same affectation you hear in Al Stewart’s voice and, like Stewart, Hutchison combines it with skiffle, folk and jazz acoustic guitar and orchestration.

The songs contain wonderful lyrical hooks and reflect human emotion, interaction and reaction  For example, on the track “Call Me” a syncopated jazz, reggae, rock, rhythm piece, Hutchison sings, in part:


Call me anytime you like.  I might surprise you.

You might enjoy the night and I will listen to anything you have to say.

I will offer advice to help you on your way.

But she stays here waiting.

I’m hanging on if you want to get wasted and move on.” 



The lyrics make you wonder whether Hutchison is a pusher or just love-smitten and trying to hold on to a love that is ready to leave - which is to say that the lyrics have nuance and texture that Dylan’s lyrics possess.

Hutchison builds his tracks with his voice and acoustic guitar as the primary elements.  He then surrounds these with other instruments, drums and harmonies to build very accessible and soaring lyrical musicscapes.  It is all soft, comfortable, thoughtful, oddly nostalgic and very enjoyable. 

If you know Al Stewart’s hits and Bob Dylan’s post-accident music and can combine them in your mind, you won’t need The Weatherman to know which way Hutchison blows.  If you think the combination works for you, or if you can’t visualize the combination, then, by all means, check out this ortoPilot release. You won’t be disappointed.


- Old School


http://soundcloud.com/mud-hut-digital/ortopilot-whatever-comes-up

Black Sun - Twilight of the Gods

Have you ever taken a punch? Not the kind of punch in the shoulder you might get from your wife after making an inappropriate comment about her sister’s boobs, I mean a full on haymaker to the temple that sends a shooting pain through your head and literally forces you to see a flash of light!!! When this latest offering from Black Sun kicks in with the opening bars of “Code Black” it is the musical equivalent of that one punch. There’s no messing around with intros, scene setting or any of that bullshit. This kicks straight into a monster verse with a demolition ball of a riff and a full blooded obnoxious roaring vocal. From this point on there is no let up, Black Sun are out for blood and you can either give it up willingly or they will take it by force…and to be honest, even if you’re prepared to give it up willingly they’ll still take it by force!!!

Pigeonholing Black Sun is a thankless task. They fall loosely into the doom field but this isn’t the patchouli and flare wearing doom of Cathedral with a copy of Masters of Reality in one hand and a spliff in the other. Instead this is a nasty, dead eyed doom with a blackened crust, a bottle of PCP in one hand and a rusty blade in the other. From start to finish Black Sun fill every available space with monstrous huge riffs that range from a Melvins like dissonance to a St Vitus style pummel. “Crawling Saviour” comes across like early Cathedral being fisted by Satan himself as the dual vocal attack spreads from a belligerent bellow to a throat shredding shriek that has more than one foot in the black metal camp. “Terminal Velocity” however does manage to temper the barrage of grime with some subtle beauty that is vaguely choral and transcendental. Black Sun seem to understand that pure filth is more effective when you can see the occasional clean spot in the mire. “Gethsemane” raises its hands to Heaven with near religious fervour as the riffs spit and twist around a might central vocal figure whereas “Tabula Rasa” jerks spasmodically like the last dying twitches of a man beaten into final and fatal submission. The undercurrent of insanity never seems far away from the Black Sun sound…like an inmate finger painting with his own feces in a padded cell whilst listening to Slayer jamming with Voivod on 33 and a 3rd!!!!

Black Sun also know how to vary the levels of intensity. “Transcending the Mire” shows a level of restraint not seen so far in its psychedelic guitar drawl but the repeated vocal refrain of “Can’t take anymore” still seems to belch from the darkest corners of a tortured mind. At times listening to Black Sun is an emotionally harrowing experience that threatens to build pressure behind your eyes and make them bleed. Very few bands seem to attain this level of sheer intensity. Many try but invariably come across sounding like a cartoon version of pain and anger…maybe coming from Glasgow has certain benefits for tormented artists.

By contrast “Black Angel” seems almost perky…if it can be considered perky to have your balls kicked repeatedly by steel toe-capped boots. “The Soldier’s Prayer” also seems reasonably upbeat and approaches something similar to a groove but slits its own throat by delving back into Black Sun’s trick bag of psychotic doom to play out the song. Just as you think you’re beginning to get some sort of handle on the Black Sun sound they unleash “Baby Don’t Cry”. Here they pull Oxbow’s Eugene Robinson from his mother’s breast and throw him screaming, clad only in a soiled nappy to the middle of an empty room to vent whatever vile demons are plaguing his fevered mind. In many ways this is the standout track on the album. Not because of the musical content, which compared to the rest of the songs on offer is fairly weak; a collection of meandering discordant doom laden chords, rather it is Robinson’s schizophrenic delivery which ranges from a childlike cry to a full roar. “Because the hurt does not care” he shouts in the ultimate nihilistic statement of despair…there is no escape from pain. This is the sound of a man going through some major psychological cold turkey…utterly compelling but bordering on unlistenable in a voyeuristic kind of way, should we really be standing by and watching this happen?

Thank fuck then for “Warhead”, a pretty straight up belter of a song that rides on a kicking riff and a four to the floor rhythm. Not that this is a straight up rock and roll song by any means…no siree, Black Sun don’t play such games!!! This is still an abrasive slice of caustic rifferama and won’t see them breaking through to the mainstream any time soon!!! By this point we have one last test of musical endurance to go. The title track starts with a cleaner passage that is reminiscent of some the Amebix’s more delicate moments before delving into the pit of despair once more and delivering us to the land of the mighty riff to close the album in style.

Comparisons are far from easy. There is an air of Amebix throughout in the despairing nihilistic overtones, a touch of Melvins in the sheers down tuned heaviness, a little Voivod in the dissonant, jarring riffs, obviously a touch of Sabbath (isn’t there always?) in the fractured and changeable structures and maybe even a little early 90’s Quicksand meets Helmet for good measure...if they were black metal bands!!! It’s not an easy listen and the vocals may be an acquired taste for some but there is no denying that Black Sun have created an album full of brutal, monolithic power and painful emotional depth. Sometimes music needn’t be about beer and chicks, sometimes it’s a catharsis and not many albums succeed in purging the soul like this one. For a first release Head Of Crom Records have landed firmly on their feet here. Seek this out then play loud and scare your neighbours!!!


--Ollie

Buy here: Black Sun

www.myspace.com/legionofblacksun

F.T.W. – A Tribute to Gideon Smith

It’s a testament to a man when bands come racing out of the wood-work, begging to be a part of a tribute album, and I’m sure that’s what happened when the news broke that this project was being born.   Culling bands from across the US, Canada, and Europe, F.T.W. is an imaginative reworking of 17 classic tracks from the underground rock ‘n’ roll outlaw, Gideon Smith and the Dixie Damned.

For those who don’t know the name, Gideon Smith is a neo-legend of swaggering, tomb-bound, voodoo rock.  Described as a rock star, a philosopher, a poet, a sage, and a writer, Gideon Smith is known to have some of the heaviest mojo outside of the Delta.  And let me tell you, each of these bands attacks their assignment with ferocity and reverence.  Cover albums can be played in one of two ways, either straight or re-imagined.  I’m a big fan of the second style, and listening to these gothic southern rockers remade as punk, rock, southern rock, Doom, Black Metal, Death, Country, Techno Pop, and Stoner Rock odes is simply a blast.

Way too many songs to point out all the highlights, but it starts right off the bat with HK Family’s crunchy “Whiskey Devil” with one helluva fine mid-song reggae breakdown before jumping in the hearse for Barnburner’s death dirge of “Wishing Well.”   Honky Tonk Hustlas bust out a Gothic Country rampage to “Breaking Hearts and Horses,” that just kicks serious denim and leather ass, while Red All Over surprise with a bouncy techno bop remaking of “Draggin’ the River,” that is just too good to believe.

But the greatest testament to the mad talents of this gruff genius is how his music translates so seamlessly to which ever style the bands want to play.  Through it all, the real songcraft shines through, and that’s the real story here, just how strong a songwriter Mr. Smith is.  Perhaps this is never as plain as on Dear Druid’s version of “Lay Me Down in Ecstasy.”  With it’s hushed vocal, disembodied harmonies, and shockingly evocative melody, this may just be one of the most haunting songs I’ve heard all year.  So beautiful, the first time I heard it it actually took my breath away.

I know Gideon enough to know how humbled he must’ve been by this outpouring of love for his music.  Forget those descriptors I used to describe him in the second paragraph, at his essence Gideon is an artist of vision and essence, but he’s also a man of the earth, a man of humility and honor.   I’m sure he looked at this project as an unnecessary praise for his work, but I’m hearing it as a necessary addition to his legend.

Good on ya, Gideon.


--Racer

Music Writers Wanted! Come Join the Ripple!

Well, here it is.

Our first call for writers brought us the stellar talents of Penfold, who's been regaling us with imaginative tales from the netherworlds of music writing.  Add to this the recruited talent of Mr. Brownstone and the contributions of Ollie from the band Grifter, and the Ripple family has grown nicely.

But, we think we're still a bit short.

The Ripple Effect is growing so big, so fast, there simply is no way for us to keep up with all the quality music that comes in.  And now we could use just a little help.

We've got openings for one or two more writers.  We'd love someone who has a mind for lots and lots of metal.  We mean heavy, dirty, deathy, blacky metal.  We could also use a great mind who loves emo, electro, and indy pop.  If it happens that both those minds are in the same person, then so much the better.
So, if you'd like to write about music, get lots of free music to review, and have your column syndicated across everything from GuitarWorld Magazine's website to USAToday, let us know.  We can't pay ya, other than in good music, lots of love, and a lifetime membership in the Ripple gang.

All it takes is a desperate passion for music and the desire to tell people about it.  As fun as the gig is, we'll only take people with a serious commitment to listening and writing.  Nothing half-assed about the Ripple.

Send in a writing sample about an album you love, 5 or 6 paragraphs.  Tell us why you love it, how it makes you feel and why the rest of the world should care.  Create some ripples.

That's what we do here at the Ripple Effect.  Create some ripples.

The Ripple Patch Arrives!

Waveriders Beware! 

Appearing unexpectedly, shockingly, in mail boxes around the world, The Ripple Patch arrives!   At first, jettisoned to the rapturous applause of dedicated Ripple fans, there are plenty of patches available for waveriders left and right.

Under the Grand Designs of Pope and Racer, those who wish to enter the revered brotherhood of the patch are required to perform this simple rite of initiation.  When your patch arrives, take a photo of the patch in any situation you desire; wearing it, not wearing it, feeding it, driving with it, jumping on the space shuttle . . . whatever moves  you.  Let your creativity flow and send us a picture.  All pictures will be posted here on The Ripple Effect, Grooves and Ripples, and later on the official Ripple site, www.ripple-music.com.

For our first photo, we can see the devastating effect the Ripple patch had on a simple rehearsal for the band Mighty High.  There's the patch, right there, branded to the amplifier. Last we heard, no one was brave enough to start mouth-to-mouth.

 So be ready, beware.  When the Ripple patch arrives, don't give into the fear.  Enjoy and embrace your selection into the fraternal order of Ripple.

Long may the patch wave!!@!