Chisel - 'The O.T.S./If You Believe in Christmas Trees' (Darla)

Chisel debuted 'The O.T.S.' here which I'm pretty sure appeared on their final album, Set You Free. The sound is essentially the same as on 8 AM All Day, maybe a little bit more crisp, but just as fast and with a nice use of backing vocals. I admit I've never played this more than a few times, so I've never done a deep listen of the lyrics and thus can't tell you any guess to what O.T.S. stands for. It's not the lyrics I'm drawn to here - it's the almost jazzy guitar shards and the elegant rhythm section. Leo has this thing where he plays a nearly ska-like guitar part during verses but not for too long, quickly devolving it into a more jagged riff. It's a pretty unique way of playing guitar and I already expressed my teenage amazement at it on the CD review. The b-side, well, wow! It's a cover of Cardinal's classic 'If You Believe in Christmas Trees', a song which was pretty fresh when this was released (in 1995). I probably never really listened to this back then because it was years later that I discovered Cardinal and I barely remembered this. The cover is fairly straight in tempo and demeanour; Leo's voice matches the same weird affect of Davies, a little bit more intentional than usual, I'd say. The bassline gets a little inventive during the 'polar January' part and there's some backwards sounding stuff on the guitar solo, a nice twisting take on the tune. It's not the most brilliant version of the song (compared to the several on offer by Cardinal and solo Davies) but it's more symbolic, indicating an interest in these sounds outside of the punk/hardcore scene that produced them. So therein lies my sympathies.

Cheveu - 'Like a Deer in the Headlights/C'est ça l'amour' (Born Bad)

The way 'Like a Deer in the Headlights' erupts out of the vinyl is explosive. It's somehow bigger and MORE explosive than anything else heard by Cheveu to-date; I can't explain why, though better production might have something to do with it. The sung title is a melodic hook answered by intensifying guitar licks, and it's a pretty catchy little moment. The verses explode in Olivier's usual vehement babble, and then there's a funk-driven bridge that comes out of nowhere. B-side 'C'est ça l'amour' is some rare French-language material, co-written with a certain Sophie so one suspects that if I understood French, this would be something sweet and personal. It's not as much of a new direction as 'Like a Deer' but when you do something well, why stop?

Cheveu/Crash Normal split 7" (Rococo)

Crash Normal's side erupts with a blast of manic, industrial punk, with careful attention paid to get a sharp, metallic guitar tone. But barely a minute in, we hear the sound of a stylus streaking across a record and the music changes into something much more Cheveu-like. By which I mean, synth drums, and distorted, mostly spoken vocals. So which band are we actually listening to? The third song on the side also confuses me - both of these are slower and almost a bit loungier than Cheveu usually sound. But both bands are from France and probably have some member overlap. The end of (what I think is) the Crash Normal side descends into a collapsing mess -- well, a 'crash', I guess -- which could pass for Nihilist Spasm Band on a good day. The Cheveu side (we're pretty sure of that, as there's a certain twang to the vocalist that we've come to recognise by now) has a howdown feel, with a twangy riff accelerating, smashing into a brick wall, backing up, and doing it again over and over. The vocals are more like barks and it's hard to imagine all of this energy coming from a line-in recording aesthetic. The guitar is clean here and I like the way it rises above the tide. There's great things afoot in France now, as the legacy of Metal Urbain lives on.

Cheveu/Tyvek split 7" (S-S)

Cheveu's side ('El Tortuga') is more of the same, but that's a good thing. The drum programming is a bit more interesting and these guys manage to work a bit of texture into some very narrow confines. It's a bit less distinct, melodically , than some of the album faves, but it has a thundering chorus and the guitars really ring out despite the lo-fi origins. Tyvek's track 'Future Junk' is a frantically strummed rave-up with vocalist Kevin extremely high in the mix. The most interesting part is the jam-out ending, where the guitars start fracturing and spitting all over themselves. The synth player is a bit buried but I guess Tyvek know what kind of mix they want. It's kinda blood and guts except I suspect these guys are actually pretty nerdy. There's a lock groove at the end of their side which functions as an awkward false ending. The whole thing is over in a blink (both sides), which is how it's supposed to be.

Cheveu - 'My Answer is Yes!' (Rob's House)

Another Cheveu single, pairing an album track with a new one, though the a-side is the new tune. Full title: 'My Answer is Yes! But What's the Question?', a blazingly strident display of positivity. It's built around the same Cheveu ingredients we know and love - Big Black's drummer, dirty guitars, white noise, and harsh vocals that are barked/spoken/shouted. This ups the notch a bit with a few actual breakdowns, where the band throws the intensity up for just a few measures, before letting off the throttle ever-so-slightly. It's a nice technique, showing there's a lot more focus than you might suspect upon first listen. It ends in a pile of wires and sweat, with the singer growling his deathmoan. A dark moment, perhaps, but in constrast to the B-side, a different (slightly slower) version of album-favourite track 'Lola Langusta'. Like 'Dog' there's something a bit stereotypical about this guitar riff, something too familiar being deconstructed. This is a soulful tune of pure desire, as our singer pleads for Ms. Langusta to work her sexual magic in his direction. The synth horns aren't here, but there's a great sounding electric piano. This is on a label called Rob's House, and you know, it sounds like it was recorded there too.

Cheveu - 'Dog/Make My Day' (S-S)

'Dog' begins with a dirty casio beat, straightforward and bold. Then a guitar riff that you've heard before, somewhere, and some harsh barking megaphone vocals. When the chorus hits it's all fun, an infectious apocalyptic vision. The guitars never stop going dung-dung-dung-dung-dung like immense raindrops. Flipside 'Make My Day' is a longer but the beat doesn't waver either; the guitars are thicker and strummed, and occasional organ-keyboard vamps seek out the white light. The vocals are gruff, barking "make my day", a mockery of tough-guy heroics. Other guitars (or maybe that's a bass) add nice thickening when needed, a nice gesture. For the end the beat opens up, but the song somehow becomes more claustrophobic, drowning in spattering of vocal babble and electronic processing. This was released in 2006, and to me, it announced that the new leaders of line-in GarageBand bedroom avant-punk had arrived, and they were French. Whouda thought!

Cause Co-Motion - 'I Lie Awake' (Slumberland)

This is another blazingly short Cause Co-Motion 7", which just as much bounce, the same formula as the last one, and is really only distinguishable by having two b-sides. (So really, it's a bit longer than the first one). Of these bright and energetic pop songs, the third, 'Cry for Attention' has some nice reverb on the vocals. The tune proceeds at a mid-tempo rate, which distinguishes it slightly from the other four Cause Co-Motion songs i just listened to (in less than ten minutes) for the service of this blog. These are perfectly constructed artefacts, which pass by so quickly than I can't even really form an opinion. The vocals are an everyday/average Joe singer, sounding young and enthusiastic, and the guitars are scrappy yet confident. Is it supposed to be throwaway, disposable music? Is this music made in full acknowledgement of its predecessors and the inevitable retro-psychotic layers of bullshit that get thrown on top of anyone doing anything in late 00s New York hip culture? Or it this just a group of genuinely enthusiastic youngsters who know what they like, and know how to calibrate their own creations to reflect and commemorate said likes? You don't have to pick one or the other, that's the beauty of it all.

Cause Co-Motion - 'Which Way is Up?' (What's Your Rupture?)

Cause Co-Motion are actually from NYC I think, but from this record you'd think it was Manchester in '78. There's a British twang creeping out from the singer's voice, and the guitars are glassy and bright over the bouncy basslines. I'd almost say these songs are interchangeable, folding up with major key changes. 'Which Way is Up?' asks the question repeatedly but stops in a puff of 45 rpm dust before it's answered. 'Falling Again' on the flip isn't any longer but slightly more 80s-sounding. I always associated this band with noisy stuff like Times New Vikings but there's no sleep in these eyeballs. I think these guys are trying to reinvent the idea of the singles band, and this is certainly a good entry.

Car Commercials - 'Jar' (Leaf Leaf)

This is the debut slab of fucked-upness from these Jersey boys, and one that obviously resonated with me enough that I felt compelled to collect their discography. But how could I not, after hearing 'Holland's anthemic rush? Rock and roll lives, and this is a riff for the ages, and when it descends into bridge made up of an aimless arpeggio, muttering and other shrieking before rocking out on a total jam ... well, it's up there with the greatest rock mindmelds in the canon. And I'm not saying "this is a clever deconstruction of the greatest rock songs ever", I'm saying that this is one of the greatest rock songs ever, and who gives a shit about deconstruction? ( I bet they don't). My accolades aren't meant to diminish the accomplishments of the other 3 tracks here, all of which are previews of their future work. 'Make Me See Joanne' is a plodding, introspective trail that leads nowhere, and 'Water' is an exploratory introduction that is charmingly pastoral at moments, with hints of the walkman-fuckery we get later. 'Rest Stop' closes things out, a ballad of beyond-the-bridge strumming and naievely stupid narrating. This is still their best record, but isn't that always how it goes?

Cannanes - 'Prototype' (Little Teddy)

This is the Cannanes 7" I pull out most frequently. 'Prototype' is the A-side, a rolling jam that mixes in some feeble horns, semi-heavy electric guitars, and is led by the confident croon of the male singer (I forget his name and no one is credited by name here). It's bouncy and catchy and falls only a few hairs short of 'classic' status - a true anthem of just being. The band still has a strong 80s Brit influence, and if you don't hear it, just close your eyes and imagine 'Prototype' being performed by the Housemartins. Far more amateur, though, without being inept - this is why I like this band. 'Bad Timing' is a Frances-sung tune that bends around a strong electric bassline with glass shard guitars commenting throughout. It's another beaut, simplistic, yeah, but open and honest. 'Der Fuhrender Sydney Rechtsanwalt' is the real departure - another horn driven song, but this time, a murky, melting lounge number. It reeks of 60's Euro-pop, but with the horns all bending out of shape, resulting in a strange trip that's nonetheless adorable. Little Teddy Records, judging from the typewriter-set catalogue inside the sleeve, was a real force in 1993. Remember the Bartlebees? The label still exists, which means they've been releasing music for almost 20 years, some of it surely pretty damn good. Keep on keepin' on -- as to the Cannanes, I guess they're still at it. I saw 'em twice - once when I was about 15 and once again a few years later where I'm pretty sure they stayed at my house. But I don't even remember really.

Cannanes - 'Stumpvision' (Ajax)

A few years ago I made the plunge for one of those "audiophile" turntables (though I assure you, mine is very much entry-level) -- but the kind where you have to lift the platter and move the belt to change the speed. Because putting technology to do this any more easily (like, a switch) would compromise the sound. I may seem sarcastic here, but I actually agree with that. It's just annoying in the case of 7"s like this, which are labeled as being 45 rpms, causing me to go through the hassle of changing speeds -- only to find that it's been mislabeled, and then I have to switch it back. Grrrr. Anyway, this Cannanes single has a pretty weird sound, a bit hollow and empty. Frances Gibson's singing is really distant in the mix - not like she's faraway, but just unconfident. 'Passionfruit' is a rainy day in tweedom but her voice gives it the proper lift. The acoustic strum rings triumphantly throughout this record; on 'Another Fight' (which is a pretty bleak song), the band turns and stops on a dime, using the space between to create a haunting vibe. 'Singing to Satellites' on side 2 is similarly dark, with male vocals this time, and some layered, amped-up echo/chorus guitars. S' O'Neil is credited with playing 'a hundred guitars' but Branca this is not; still it's a pretty big sound for a band that's always struck me as being about small things. The drummer shuffles things along and things are over before you know it. Ajax Records is one of those labels that seemed important to me at some point, but it feels already like a million years ago since they were making any splash. This is 1992, after all.

The C&B - '1991 pre-Shadow Ring recordings' (Siltbreeze)

These early recordings aren't a shock to fans of early Shadow Ring - the same broken songforms and production techniques that characterise their first few LPs are audible on these four tunes. 'Kent Custer' (which contains the lyric 'shadow ring') is built around household percussive flopping and a a repetitive, dumb 3-note acoustic messriff. It's practically 'City Lights', but it's actually the C&B, which was short for The Cat and Bells Club. There's some tapework but not much interest in dark, searing electronics or the strange collages that exemplify later work by these guys, but that's okay. As a strategy against cohesion, 'Cave of Ice Cats' is unparalleled. I've never been to Folkestone but I can envision a dingy, cold room where these two kids were sitting around a dictaphone bashing about, the stale smell of old cigarette smoke clinging to everything. The audio dropouts are very much an essential component of this 7", but the volume dips and the tape decimation that gives the acoustic guitar such a thin, broken tone. 'Father's Dead' tells the story you'd expect while someone makes sandwiches. We hear a glimpse of terrestrial TV in the background while Harris tells his tale, and there's maybe a bit more of a sense of traditional spoken performance here than we'd ever get later (think 'Lighthouse'!) I'm so, so glad that this came out though the contents aren't surprising in any way whatsoever. Torches forward for the future, or what the future was from here.

Blumfeld - 'Draußen auf Kaution/Jet Set' (Big Cat)

Moody, mid-90s German indie-rockers Blumfeld made a pretty great album, if I remember it, and then faded into obscurity. At least in my tunnel vision world! I don't speak a word of their language so I have no idea what they are singing about, but 'Draußen auf Kaution' is a dramatic, mid-tempo guitar jam that reminds me a bit of what everyone was trying to do in 1995. There's arpeggiated guitar lines slowly unfolding, slow building vocals and a darkly-inflected instrumental buildup at the end of the song. Hints of Slint's "Washer" for sure, but that's unavoidable. No, it's the grooves of 'Jet Set' on side B -- actually labeled as side AA -- that I've worn out on this record. A fast, energetic thrasher with spoken/shouted lyrics, this is why I got into Blumfeld. There's a resemblance to the Fall, or maybe Moss Icon since they aren't as sloppy or lackadaisical as the Fall -- there's a real spark behind this, a statement of direction that you'd only get with some pissed off Germans. Again, maybe they are just singing about their breakfast or train timetables, but it's enough to have me hopping up and down for the past 15 years.