» Full Dark, No Stars - Stephen King's new novella questions mankind's ability to trust others.
[02.21.2011 by Bridget Doyle]


 » The Top 30 Albums of 2010 - Fashionably, fabulously late, our favorite music (and believe me, there was a LOT) of 2010, the year that some have called the best year for music ever. And only some of those fools work here. Plenty of usual suspects, lots of ties and a few surprises that I won't spoil, including our unexpected #1.
[12.24.2010 by The LAS Staff]


 » Live: Surfer Blood/The Drums at Lincoln Hall, Chicago, IL - Remember when Weezer used to put together records that you could sing along to and rock out to? That's what Surfer Blood's show was like!
[11.04.2010 by Cory Tendering]

Music Reviews

Screaming Females - Castle Talk
»Screaming Females
Castle Talk
Don Giovanni
Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross - The Social Network [Original Soundtrack]
»Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross
The Social Network [Original Soundtrack]
The Null Corporation
Deerhunter - Halcyon Digest
Halcyon Digest
No Age - Everything in Between
»No Age
Everything in Between
Sub Pop
Robyn - Body Talk Pt. 1/ Body Talk Pt. 2
Body Talk Pt. 1/ Body Talk Pt. 2
The Walkmen - Lisbon
»The Walkmen
Fat Possum
Gram Rabbit
Stinky Records

Rating: 9/10 ?

June 2, 2006
Warning: There are unique horrors in store for those planning to stop wasting their time in those retarded fanboy chat rooms, purchase a cheap grammar guide and declare themselves a music critic.

First comes the Unwanted Ally, a record company or PR person who delivers mounds and mounds of CDs that all sound the same. Generally this will come in the form of thrash metal albums sung by talentless zekes trying to sound like demons, but I've had Unwanted Allies hawking hip-hop, indie, local stuff from cities you wouldn't care to visit if you had two years to kill in a free Winnebago, techno and even jazz. I repeat: Usually it is metal - the innumerable promos those people send out probably account for 90 percent of their formidable numbers of units moved, really.

Then there are Albums With Big Sloppy Blocky Red Writing On the Cover, as if the band was, you know, sort of trying to look like their graphics were done in human blood but they're just a bit too Dandy Warhol-sophisticated for that. Usually these are from lonely weirdo artistes who haven't had human contact since Diff'rent Strokes got cancelled, or they're hick metallists who can't decide whether they want to come off like doom rockers or unambitious punk clowns. Either way, there are a few Albums With Big Sloppy Blocky Red Writing On the Cover that can be found along the highways of New Hampshire; they were thrown out my car window after fifteen seconds of listening, never afforded a jury trial or a last cigarette.

Then there are the Culties In Animal Suits. "We're weird but political! Different! Check out our MySpace page!" Yech. Those are... well, used to be the worst.

Until Gram Rabbit.

Seriously too groovy and timely for US indie radio, these fruitcakes try a lot of different styles on for size - from straightjacket shoegaze bliss to grungy post-Kashmir ringouts - and instead of the usual tuneless muck that spells a-l-t-e-r-n-a-t-i-v-e out in crayon for lack of a more honest pigeonhole; it's this hypnotic, earthshakingly cool cross between Enigma, Madonna, Jesus & Mary Chain and anything else that's been heard on radio in the past fifty years that might be capable of filling out a bunny suit (download hotXXX belly-shirt jpegs of Jesika von Rabbit before there are fees).

This... thing's opening track, "Waiting in the Country," fuses indie slam-chording to Jesika's icy (and refreshingly on-key) full-reverb warning about things unknown, and before you know it our gal is gakking out a pre-fame Cyndi Lauper hairball over some Pac Man disco ("Bloody Bonnies").

By now, minutes in, two decent songs have gone by and you think you've got it pegged, but the saloon doors open for "Angel Song" to come sauntering in with one of those Telstar guitars from out of Quentin Tarantino's weird record collection, an acoustic piano tinkling mournfully by its side, and the vocals are taken over by Todd Rutherford emulating the Byrds, and that's when you decide on a permanent home for the CD somewhere in the car, no matter how weird things get (and boy, do they ever).

Oh, and The Writing On the Cover is blue, by the way.

Reviewed by Eric Saeger
An LAS staff writer based in New Hampshire, Eric Saeger was named alt.flame\'s Newbie of the Year in 2000.

See other reviews by Eric Saeger



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