EIC and Design Editor Eduard Abayev
Writing Staff
Jude Noel Austin Naamani Corey Burks Aleix K Basie Campbell Cory Cory
Promotional Team
Madelynn Erbe Peyton Crenshaw
front cover by Brian Wolf photography by Taylor Hayes
METAL MONDAYS HIGHLANDS TAPROOM 1056 Bardstown road Free 1 :00pm 21+
LOOKS LIKE SOMEONES GOT A CASE OF THE MONDAYS Live Bands Kick It off
Your Playlist Keeps It Going
art by Simon Maness
Intersex By Destiny Nowlin
Vampire By Yoko Molotov
I didn’t love it because I was afraid of it. I was afraid of her I was afraid of my noises I was afraid of it, and I was afraid of the orgasms and what they would mean I was afraid of it so I burned it, because that’s what Christians do. Sexuality is fluid. It moves through blood veins sometimes so quickly that it doesn’t go to your brain Your brain is suffocated So much that you think you throw it up. And hide and say I’m too busy to have a boyfriend. But you’re so pretty I’m not pretty. I wished to be a very interesting white man. With dark hair and red glasses. And a collection of floral dress shirts and colorful pants Is that called transexuality? Sometimes I wish to be Harmony Korine and other days I wish I were Tom Ford. And I also want to have sex with both of them. And then I wake up as Kerry Washington and fight for women’s rights. And at noon I want to be Cara Delevingne. They say she’s bi-sexual. What gender do you associate with? Check male or female.
I found the moon full and it drives my compass so that I know where to go Their way is a flood way full my teeth grow For a stream of slick blonde and a ravine of high bones the whole body is combed clean Invested,
Do I check male? I would fuck the brains out of Channing Tatum. Swim Club By Jude Noel A sphere descends, spitting a wheel of flecks of water and it lands at the foot of my deck chair. two children lean against the gutter of the pool and plead for me to throw it back. their squat, inebriated father lies spread out with a crest of milky sunlight across his furry gut. moms sit poolside, feet in the water, and they cackle in unison. a congregation of the parish middle class: you can tell by the volume, voices splashing against the oldies station. chipped white blocks, 7 FEET, NO DIVING, in dark stencil, the sort that adorns the sleeves of hardcore punk records. basketball courts nestled between overgrowth and parking lots. the net of a hoop dangles helplessly like a spider’s web that threatens to ensnare a pedestrian’s face. kids jump up in hopes of swiping it with their fingertips. with so much to notice, how can i read in peace? at least there are chili cheese fries. i wring out the ball; it stains the grey concrete. and i return it to its rightful place.
I’m a vampire(and you said, I should be)
art by Brad Porter
I come stumbling with rolled sleeves in speech Driving over the dawn I wrecked it wrecked and hungry I’m a vampire(and you said, I should be)
Breath by Laurel Dixon Feathers rustling, the sound a moth makes when it dreams—those things became my breathing when you pressed your lips to the hollow behind my ear. The playground hushed. The crickets skipped a beat of their song. And for an instant the whiskey told me I loved you. No, it’s too soon to say. I’ll settle for holding your hand
art by
art by
Ken
Chris
Schuck
McCormick
My bluebird has died by Kyle Thompson breaking up via text while watching internet porn: I hate bukowski but typing that line that gave me the same perverse satisfaction I bet he felt hungover, hunched over a typewriter smelling like stale sweat and women each letter on the page begging for someone to justify his sins and I bet that asshole knew that 50 years later a nation of pseudo-intellectuals with no culture of their own would romanticize poetry romanticizing reveling in your faults I broke up with someone via text while watching internet porn and I hate myself for that and I feel more like that asshole with every line.
art by Brad Porter
LIFE ON LESBIAN ISLAND:
Thaddeus the Zombie Chicken by Laurel Dixon
art
by
Tracy
Oberc
**Author’s note: My neighborhood is nicknamed Lesbian Island. Because, well, there are a lot of lesbians living there. Odd things happen to me there and I write about them. So welcome to Life on Lesbian Island: Where the carpets are clean and the Subaru’s are plentiful. The first time I saw Thaddeus, it was a gold-grey October morning. Halfway to my house I turned and looked into our side yard, and there he was, staring at me with a single beady eye. His feathers were the glossy color of blood and rust. I took a step back. “You’re a chicken,” I said. Not my brightest observation, but then, I lose all brain function in the morning until I shot-gun three cups of coffee and can feel my veins writhing like snakes. The chicken didn’t reply. He stared me down with a haughty gaze until I backed my way into the house. Chicken: 1; Laurel: 0. I knocked on roommate number three’s door and joined him on the back porch, where he was
nursing a cigarette. “There’s a chicken in our front yard. A weird chicken. Aren’t they supposed to be nervous around humans?” Micah shrugged. “That’s our yard chicken. Well, he’s really the neighbors’ chicken, the ones who live two blocks over. But he escaped and now they can’t catch him.” I barely knew where to start. “Okay, but why are they raising chickens in a city? And how hard is it to catch a chicken? They can’t really fly. They sort of just hop, or something.” “He’s a very smart chicken. Elusive, really. Seriously, go see if he’s even there anymore.” I tentatively made my way to the front porch and peered around the side of the house; the chicken was gone. Fast forward three weeks. Our aging house was covered in flat bugs, which was a pretty typical occurrence for the time of year. After finding one happily doing a backstroke in my cup of tea, we decided (or more like I shrilly decided, with an edge of hysteria in my voice) that we needed to bug bomb. This consisted of buying poison canisters, placing them around the house, setting them off, and then running like hell and hoping the residue didn’t end up giving us cancer. The day after we de-bugged, a terrifying stench wafted from under our kitchen floor. Red and I lit scented candles—Red is my hipster partner-in-crime, and incidentally my roommate—and made dramatic gagging noises while circling the spot on the floor. “There’s a crawl space under the house, right?” I said through the thick bandana over my mouth. “Yeah,” said Red, “which is creepy by itself. Now that it smells like a corpse, it’s even creepier.” “We probably killed one of the hissing opossums that Micah is so fond of,” I said. Later that night Red, Micah and I lit up Black and Mild’s and sat on the porch. Red and I drank Stella while Micah picked out chords on our poorly-tuned acoustic guitar. After a half hour we broached the topic with him: “Well, we think we may have gassed one of your opossum friends because of the smell in the kitchen.” Micah paused his strumming. “Have we considered the yard chicken? I saw him wander under the house once. I think he was living there.” Red looked at me in horror. “We gassed the yard chicken. We killed an innocent bird.” I laughed and then coughed smoke over the fading lawn. “We just had hot wings for dinner, Red. You can’t be that sympathetic.” Two beers later, and we had decided the chicken’s name was Thaddeus, and that he deserved a proper dirge. Micah played minor chords and we invented verse after verse for the fallen Thaddeus. We extolled his escape capacities, his tenacity in surviving, and his final battle against the poison gas. We discovered how impossible it is to rhyme anything with the word “cloaca.” (You can look up the definition yourself. But for god’s sake, don’t Google image search for it. Just don’t.) Winter passed with liberal amounts of snow and no yard chicken sightings. It wasn’t until the very first warm spring day that I pulled into our driveway and stopped short. Framed in the dark crawl space entrance was a rust-colored spot. I slammed my car door and cautiously approached. It was as if nothing had changed—he still had the dark, lightless eyes, the blood-red feathers. “Thaddeus?” I whispered. But he had changed. As he began his jerky run towards me, his coat was disheveled and his gait uneven. With a freakish leap and no help from his wings he charged towards me; I skittered backwards down the gravel driveway, my heart pounding. Stopping just short of me, he pinned me with one last, lifeless stare before flapping his wings and lumbering back into the darkness of the crawl space. Thaddeus the zombie chicken had risen.
Proper
by Taylor White
Health
Care
“It Will Be About the Same to Me” by Preston Bradley
I wasn’t sick, but I went to the doctor anyway. They said my insurance covered all preventive care, even the copay, so this minor check-up would be free to me. It sounded pretty good, and I had not had a proper going-over by a doctor in a long time. They said you want to get looked at every so often so if they catch something early then you get more time to deal with it. I was like “Okay, fuck it.” Plus, I was bored and I wanted the attention. I didn’t know this before, but they have all these new regulations they put in place when you’re getting an examination. Some shit the insurance companies started because of some shit from the federal government’s new health care laws. I don’t pretend to understand any of it. I was like “Ma’am here’s my card and I got HSA too.” They made me wait a long-ass time and fill out all these forms all asking the same questions. It always says “Occupation” and I don’t want to tell them I work at Target but I don’t want to put down ‘writer’ because I don’t live off of it so I always leave it blank. But they got all these weird really personal questions. Like there was a whole page just about my dick. I gave it back to the lady and she was like “you didn’t complete the whole thing” and I was like “do I really have to do this page” and she was like “yes sir it’s for insurance purposes”. So I get back there and they put me in this chair and it folds back. They take out these belts and they strap me down tight to the table. So tight I couldn’t breathe. And the doctor comes in and he’s like a Wolfenstein villain: Bloody smock, tiny leering face, little piggy eyes behind round spectacles, no hair.
Well they started in by drilling my teeth with this electric power drill. Black & Decker. They peeled back my lips and went at my grill like an excavation. Little bone fragments went in the back of my throat. I coughed and the drill dug into my tongue. It got caught in there and ripped it to shreds. They said next up they were going to have to do something about my eyes. The left eye got something that wasn’t quite acid, but more like an industrial solvent. It dissolved away pretty much the whole thing. It didn’t even bleed. They held up a little mirror so I could watch with the other eye. Then that eye they said they were going to need to slice open for the next part of the examination. They kind of just cut the outer layer, just enough to open it up. The nurse said my navel was filthy and smelled like a dead cat. It just absolutely had to be cleaned. She poked around in there with a pair of tweezers. I could feel it in my belly and in my balls. She pulled out a fairly large amount of lint. She admonished me with a “tsk tsk” sound and got out this little thing that looked like a little mallet with a fuzzy head. The mallet stuck into a thing like an electric egg beater. She jammed it into my navel and it spun around like a floor buffer. After my navel cleaning, which I admit was pretty necessary, the doctor brought in some jars. They were labeled with latin words and were full of worms and grubs. And there was a tray with something that looked kind of like a meat bun you get from the sushi place. “Next, Mr. White, we will be planting various parasites in your body. Federal healthcare laws mandate a certain amount of parasites during medical procedures. Since you currently have no parasites you’ll have to take some and then on your follow-up visit we’ll see which ones are working best for you.” They flipped me over on my chest and re-secured the belts so I couldn’t move. Then they took this thing like a paint roller and ran it up and down my back. It had little spikes on it that poked holes in my skin. It hurt for sure, but it also felt kind of good. “First, you get some botfly larva in your back. They will grow healthy and strong, then they will drop out on their own and fly off. Don’t try to pull them out because they are covered in tiny spines which will rip your skin and cause you great pain. There will be some bleeding and pus, so don’t wear any white shirts.” They took a spoonful of these tiny brown worms and tucked them under the lens of my eye; the one they sliced open. Then they put some hot glue on the slice to seal it up. “These guys are Loa loa worms. They’re imported from Africa. This particular breed will feed on your eye jelly and make waste right on the iris. Very exotic.” The tray with the meat bun was brought around and held in front of my face. It pulsed and throbbed as it sat only inches away from my nose and mouth. “This is a rare breed of Earthstar fungus that spores inside the breathing cavities of mammals.” The nurse came around with a water dropper. With every drop, a fume of spores puffed out from the fungus and went right up my nose. It smelled sweetly of rot and the vegetarian alfredo plate at Fazzoli’s. The nurse noticed there was something wrong with my spore intake. They wheeled me down to radiology and made me swallow a tiny bit of radioactive isotope. Then they left me alone for a while, and I had three different nurses give me three more radioactive capsules. Everything started to taste like metal. The doctor came back and he was pissed. They had given me way too much radiation. I started throwing up. The doctor called me a pussy. He said I had to mop it up because they fired the cleaning crew. Apparently under new federal laws janitors get healthcare too. The receptionist stopped me on the way out. She took my hand and helped me sign my name on some papers I couldn’t read. “Okay, now come back in six weeks and we’ll see how those parasites are doing. The doctor also put you down for a bone fusion, which will meld all of your bones into one hideous super-bone. The bones grow in the spaces between your muscles and organs. It’s very painful and very expensive.”
I found out later that my insurance didn’t cover the co-pay and I ended up with a four hundred dollar bill.
by Eduard Abayev
EMES OR ARE THERE ANY TH NY FEELINGS YOU TR TOSOCO D? UN UR YO TH WI VEY usually many Since there aren’t tur n out to be gs son lyrics, some . It’s not more moody than I expect ngs just thi al, ion always intent . I remes develop that way someti I have so it, te wri I cord music AS end to ng goi no idea where it’s fol me the a low to rt up. It can sta n tur and own or a pattern on itsseems to have a t tha into something dless nardistinct emotional, wor t a stream jus s it’ rative.... but of thing. t of consciousness sor
WHAT ARE SO OF YOUR FAVORITE UNCOME NV EN JECTS TO USE IN TIONAL OBYOUR WORK? My favorite, hands n, is the jar of water. I’ve dow had long, a love of swishy , for a , watery sounds. Another object that is a favorite is thi magazine stand. It shasdog-shaped neat metallic sound, anda really a natural reverb to it dep end ing on where you hit it. It was a pretty sweet find at a Fle a Market.
HAVE YOU HOW LONGKING MUSIC? MA BEEN
Since I was 9-years-old.
HER ARTISTIC DO YOU HAVE ANYFROT CHER VON? OM OUTLETS ASIDE ojects, r music pr he ot ve not. I ha I ns and what th my wi collaboratio nd a ba in ss der Ba ay pl o performs un good buddy rwh‘Phourist’. I’ve the monikently ventured into also rece music for short film composing s, and am finishsoundtrackme vocal work for a ing up so video game trailer. cinematic
T ARE SOME WHO OR UWEHNACES FOR YOU? BIG INFL e sionists. Th
rcus o unI love pe sionists, ewhin beus rc true pe nc w to da too litderstand homu ch and o to c. I tween st GET musi ju o wh d it an en e, wh tl ke them, t just no want to be li , erything n achieve comes to ev If you ca and re. on si percus balance of that kind rcussively, when it straint pebe overcome by a drum ll out is easy to beat the he frenzy and ng in front of you, allof everythi ly to be an an. ci si you’re like mu l ptiona ce ex nd ou ar
WHO ARE SOME OF YOUR FAVO RITE LOCAL ARTISTS, VISUALLY OR SONICALLY?
There are many! I’m discovering how surprising just scene here is. and colorful the music ther create an There are some who eior who are exceptaudiovisual experience, Camera Lucida, ional at both, such as; Yoko Molotov of ermeat, and Ph Sweatou ented folks that rist. Such multi-talI always lo to seeing what they’re gonnaokdoforward next.
ARE THERE Y FUTURE RELEAS EVENTS WE AN ES OR CAN LOOK FO RWARD TO? I’m no
t too ce es this year, rtain about any new releaslikely be an ep but if there is it will a collection of ic collaboration, or even collaborations ferent artists. with difEv ents are plenti year! There are ful this ma ny I’m looking fo to being a part rward Date podcast an of, such as the Blind ni ve rsary sh Poorcastle in July, CHIME owin in June, August.
VITAL INFO
I’m really into playin in people’s ng rooms, g so me playLivi let in yours some time.
CHECK OUT CHER VON AT CHERVON.BANDCAMP.COM
by Basie Campbell
NTAGES/ DISWHAT ARE THE ADVA NG ALTERNAKI MA TO ADVANTAGES TOWN? TIVE MUSIC IN A SMALL
DO ANY NONMUSICAL TISTIC ENTITIES INFLUENCE AR YOUR MUSIC, LIKE MOVIES OR BOOK VISUAL ART? IF SO WHAT S AROR E THEY?
I love this question. The short answer is yes. I’ve written songs having a movie or a book in mind. I have a song called Space Cadet that was written right after I watched Gravity. High Fidelity remains one of my favorite movies of all time. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest is one of my favorite books, and I’m also a big fan of Alice in Wonderland. Oh and Hunter S. Thompson. For visual art James Turrell is where it’s at. The medium he works through is light itself. It’s insane. I’d also say Reggie Watts, though he does incorporate music, it’s mostly a stand up comedy routine.
Music in a small town is a funny thing. There aren’t a lot of people, which is both an advantage and disadvantage. There really is a tight knit group of people that are making music only for the sake of making music, which is good, but it also makes it harder to get your name out there and get exposure. I’ve played to plenty of empty bars, though I think that’ll happen in bigger cities just the same.
PE ANT ELRODS? E B I R C O W W U DES OULD EYAODERS IN FE y. H O W WU R part R e O c n TO ly da
PEOPLE WANT YOU DO WHAT EY’RE TH EN WH TO BE DOING OPE? EL T AN TO G LISTENIN
e s lik ’ t i ay I’d s
e a lon
listening to it I’m just happy anyone eisthat people will hop I y all at all. Ide ones, have the put on some nice headph and really dig m, the lyrics in front of probably unrealist’s tha but it, into ent songs for diftic. I’ve got differof my songs are sad lot A ferent moods. e of them are som ng, and self deprecati people dance tur pic to e lik I . dancey underwear. ir the in s lve mse ing by the
IF YOU COULD TOUR WITH ANY OTHER ARTISTS WHO WOULD THEY BE? Since you left it plural, and didn’t specify alive or dead, for sake of convenienc e, I’ll keep my answer to currently touring acts. I’d like to do a tour showcasing local acts. There are a lot of those, but we’ll get to that. The Arcade Fire or The Natio nal. Those are two bands I’ve been able to see in the last year, and they are both at the top of their game. Chad VanGaalen, I wouldn’t turn down touring with him either.
CHECK OUT ANT ELOPE AT ANT-ELOPE.BANDCAMP.COM
T
YOU AND IS THERE PRETTY STEADY SCENE FOR TRAITS IAL SPEC ANY AY? MURR IN YOU BANDS LIKE OF THAT SCENE THAT WE SHOULD KNOW ABOUT? Murray really does having a thriving music scene. I mean, it’s crazy to think about how many super talented bands there are in such a small, out of the way place. This town is literally 2 miles wide, and it’s in the middle of nowhere. We’re 2 hours from Nashville, 4 from Louisville, and 3 from St. Louis. But through the University, and through Terrapin Station, through people just deciding to make it happen, there’s a steady stream of touring acts coming through. State Champion from Louisville are playing here this week. Parquet Courts have toured through here, Colleen Green, and this band Marbin. MSU is able to get some of the bigger names, Bob Dylan, Ben Folds, Avett Brothers, Joe Pug. Willie Nelson and Allison Krauss are coming here. The first concert I ever went to was Lit and Garbage back in the 90’s at what is now the CFSB center. So having all these artists coming by in a setting where you can actually meet them, I mean Joe Pug handed me one of his CDs for free, and that happened at Lovett Auditorium. I mean there are good venues here.
And then there are the local acts. There are so many of them it’s almost impossible to keep track of. There’s a lot, and it’s a wide spectrum of music, a lot different things depending on your palate. The Savage Radley is another band I play drums for. My other best friend, Otto Sharp, writes chillingly good Delta-folk songs, and that girl’s voice is something else entirely. I play drums for this band Kentucky Vultures too. Tim Johns is the songwriter for that band, and he’s a professor at the university, writes simple but intelligent rock music. There is of course Quailbones for all your post-punk needs, but there’s also Joanie and the Missiles which has some of the same members as Quailbones. I’ve mentioned Cocoonitude already. Then there are The Barbariettes, which you may be familiar with. There’s a funky jam band called Big Atomic that’s from Murray. They are always a good time. The Drunken Poets play some bluegrassy/blues/gypsy stuff that’s excellent. If you expand the map just a little and include some other area bands, there’s this band from Metropolis Il called Leonard the Band who I’ve been friends with for some years now. There’s Gideon’s Rifle, Oh Yeah! Dakota, Red Ember. I mean, I could keep going...but that right there is a chuck of things to try to get into.
FOR MY OWN RIOSITY, W DO YOU TIE IN WITH QUAICU LBONES, IF HO YOU DO AT AL L? Those guys are some of my best friends. I play drums in a band calling itself Cocoonitude, which is 2/5ths of Quailbones. Corbet Hall and Tim Peyton play in that band with me. I’ve already mentioned Matt Rowan who also plays in Quailbones. Him and I used to play in a band that would change it’s name every show, and he’s also played in The Savage Radley, which is another project I play drums for. Jordan Ferguson and Jeff Bugg are solid jabronies too. We all go way back.
photography by Mason Mivelaz
uar by Ed
d
SAVAGE MASTER MADE ITS DEBUT PERFORMANCE RECENTLY. WHAT ARE SOME FUTURE THINGS WE CAN EXPECT FROM THE BAND? June 3rd is our album release date. We will have cassette tapes and cds available at http:// savagemaster.bigcartel.com/. We have buttons and embroidered patches and will have shirts soon as well.
v Abaye
WHAT BANDS OR PERFORMERS DO YOU ALL PULL FROM, MUSICALLY OR AESTHETICALLY? Y COMAREN’T EXACTL L TA ME THAT IN N ES NG WOME E SOME CHALLETH ENE? SC E MON. WHAT AR IN A LADY G IN BE TH WI COME probs is the biggestmetal. el he in g in ng ba Head being a woman in lem I have had the road I will encounI’m sure down creepos but Loui ville far. ter some real nd to me thus ki ry ve en be has WHAT OTHE IS PROJECTS EVERYONRE WITH, P AST OR INVOLVED PRESENT? Stacey Peak - This is my first project.
Adam ers,
Neal Dragons
HookKiss
aestheticaland Vocally ly, I am inspired by Judas Priest, Venom and Warlock amongst many many others. Wendy O Williams inspires me aesthetically as well. WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE LOCAL BANDS? Stonecutters, Sons of Medusa,and Stagecoach Great Floods just a few of Inferno are t local bands. the many grea
Larry Myers - KL YPD, Leaves, Artwork for the Blind
Eric McManus - lickgoldensky, Nixon, The Glass Pack, Pusher, Lords, Kiss It Goodbye (reunion tour), Hookers (fill in drummer), Dirty Bitch Mike Oe rther falo Strike Bill, quest Brothers City, Buf( f o of r Blade o Conf the Rhalf a second), ipper, Dirty B itch
CHECK OUT SAVAGE MASTER AT REVERBNATION.COM/SAVAGEMASTER
words
and
art
by
Cory
Cory
art and words by Ashlynn Barker
ALBUM REVIEWS
TOBACCO.ZINE@GMAIL.COM
ALBUM REVIEWS
Pan ! by Shutaro Noguchi precisethevice.bandcamp.com It’s like reggae music but I like it! Ha! Just kidding. I like reggae music. This is one song and if I were to wax poetically about it in one sentence that’s what I’d say. Seriously though, it’s eight minutes, ‘Name Your Price’ (even free!) and thoroughly enjoyable. And ‘Pan’ = ‘bread’. I mean, do you need any more reasons to get this sick J ggae track? 420 BLAZE IT NOGUCHI! - Aleix K. Mirror by Psychic Skin salutatorianblues.bandcamp.com Bobby Barbour’s Psychic Skin project fits squarely in to the weirdo electronic experimentation Louisville is gaining a repuation for. Despite unconventional sounds and methods, The Mirror EP still maintains a very accessible and almost pop method. Sounding like an approaching storm on a spring day, Mirror is deathly pallid yet full of life at the same time. If you dig it, be sure to order a limited tape off Bandcamp - Eduard Abayev
ALBUM REVIEWS
holocaustactionfigures.bandcamp.com Louisville post hardcore heroes Holocaust Action Figures have blessed us with their second full length project. 29 Dogs is full of power and energy and mega riffs and complicated drum thingies and some realgood hollerin’ and I’m just a real big fan of it. These dudes have been rocking since 2011 and you really should check them out. Woof. - Corey Burks
ALBUM REVIEWS
29 Dogs by Holocaust Action Figures
ALBUM REVIEWS
ALBUM REVIEWS
ALBUM REVIEWS
ALBUM REVIEWS
Chipped by Ellie Herring soundcloud.com/ellieh
Lexington-based producer Ellie Herring brings the cohesive and hypnotically pretty 4 song EP, Chipped. Less vocalized and more opaque than her previous release Kite Day, songs like The Never Ache bring to mind “witch house” (ugh) producer Lake Radio. Although moody and danceable, Chipped is competent and not exactly a challenging listen. Find it on tape from Racecar Productions. - Eduard Abayev White Reaper by White Reaper whitereaper.bandcamp.com Louisville darlings Tony and the Twins got signed to that one label that put out American Football. With the signing comes the Self-Titled EP. Recording old faves like Cool and Conspirator, it’s what you’d expect from the boyz. Punchy punky fuzz that would make King Tuff and Jay Reatard clutch their hearts. My only gripe is that the production is almost too clean. White Aura sounded like it was recorded with an answering machine but I love that. Catch them on the west coast supporting Young Widows this summer. Out on all cool formats June 24th from Polyvinyl. - Eduard Abayev
Hey! Get Yer Head Outta the Clouds! by Ant Elope ant-elope.bandcamp.com It’s good this is a short EP. Not because it’s bad, it’s not, but it doesn’t do much. The synths go back and forth and the rhythms keep in the same pocket for each song. One could almost say Ant Elope could stand keeping their head in the clouds a little more often so that the songs really take off and bring the listener to a new world. But for now, it’s decently the kind of music you might enjoy when you’re high and begrudgingly single. - Aleix K. Sketching by Sketching sketching.bandcamp.com Warbling, chorus-laden guitar, gnarled drum machine strokes and trebly caresses of of ethereal synthesizer congeal into something alien, yet somehow familiar on the self-titled debut release by Louisville newwave project Sketching. Drawing from the distant, distorted brand of dream pop that accented late 00’s acts like Washed Out and Small Black, as well as from the nuanced, bouyant vibe of 80’s new wave. Though the album may initially seem a sea of viscous electronic noise, nearly impossible to navigate, there is an intense impressionistic layering to be discovered by those who plunge their heads beneath the surface. These songs, though formed from the most abstract of sounds, carry the empty weight of a quiet room, broken by the subtle shuffling of an antsy child seated on the couch, or the clatter of silverware in the kitchen. Silence throbs in the listener’s ears until it’s bent and warped by soluble synths that slowly seep into the virgin canvas of blank sound. A cover of Bruce Springsteen’s stellar 1984 single “I’m On Fire” sends a Tom Waits-esque drawl floating on a crest of reverb bubbles, while “Anita” buffets the listener with its gothic, liturgical repetition. Rarely have I been captivated by such ambient beauty. - Jude Noel
Upon pulling out the sunny yellow cassette from what appears to be one hell of a bathroom party and exposing my ears to the first minute and a half that makes the opening number “Silent Auctioneer” it’s a charismatic, tightly composed rock n’ roll ride. Fiery melodies, witty lyrics and a lovable musical personality felt in songs like “Boy Magnet, Bar Maggot” and “Plainclothes Officer”. Even when it feels like it appears to cool off in “Blanchard” and “Alive For Days” or tinges into sarcasm (Simply B Natural) or bleakness (Final War) it bursts brightly and confidently to life and keeps me nodding along. This journey years in the making from a long-standing and diverse local musician is a most triumphant one and most certainly recommended! – Joe Bully & Shag Nasty
Charlie 3X (formerly Precise the Vice) is a Louisville-native rapper I can be proud of. The 20 year old has a tight flow, smooth delivery, and a great ear for beats. The new self-titled album, his third project in a little over two years, doesn’t feel like a local album. It’s well paced and the mixing is solid enough to play in a good set of headphones or car speakers without wanting to pull your ears off. Despite four producers being used on the album (Side note: MelroseZee, who produced the bulk of the tracks on this album, is a real treasure and I cannot wait to hear more from him), Charlie 3X is musically consistent but varied enough to keep each of the 16 tracks feeling fresh. Charlie 3X (he requests that you please say the three times) is a very solid rapper and approaches the usual topics of hiphop with a sense of empowerment and awareness. The hooks are well crafted and implemented, almost never becoming grating or old, and the Brainfeeder-esque pitched backing vocals add a lot to each song. Overall, this shit is really really enjoyable and I hope this dude gains some traction and keeps doing his thing. - Corey Burks
Egg Plate by Ted Tyro tedtyro.band c a m p . c o m Lo-fi indie pop with catchy, eerie motions that evolve into pleasant rhythms and mellow, sleepy vocals. Egg Plate comes off dreamy and dopey, like Ween at their most stoned. Strawberry Serf slowly picks in with backmasked talking, entrancing guitar licks and even a tease of Prince-stylized falsettos and squeals. The mellowness is there, the sun is shining and this is nine minutes made to loosen the listener up a little. - Cory Cory
ALBUM REVIEWS
Charlie 3X by Charlie 3X precisethevice.bandcamp.com
ALBUM REVIEWS
gubbeyrecords.net
ALBUM REVIEWS
Pacific Midwest by Andy Matter
ALBUM REVIEWS
BLOSSOMING OCCULT CREATION by MA TURNER maturner.bandcamp.com Lexington’s mysterious minstrel has been nonstop with his output, including Nessy Peen and the 12 cassette box set ZOZ. Blossoming Occult Creation is a fragrant and welcoming tape, unlike the austere moanings and squeals of Nessy Peen. An almost pagan sound, it’s ideal for those summer barbecues/ritual sacrifices you’ve been planning. If you’re looking to get in to the trench-deep MA catalog, this is one of his more accessible ones. Order it today from Half-Gifts. - Eduard Abayev
“They Are Becoming” by Preston Bradley
Sean and Tyler over at Modern Cult Records give us their top four album picks.
MODERN
CULT
2001 Frankfort Avenue Mon - Thu: 11:00 am - 8:00 pm Fri - Sat: 11:00 am - 10:00 pm Sun: 12:00 pm - 6:00 pm
RECORDS
Keiji Haino & Masataka Fujikake Duo - Hard o nanjujo sasetara hikari no tsubo ga oritsugu no ka? (Fulldesign Records) Well I’d never heard the drummer on anything before I picked up this disc after seeing His Dark Majesty live a few weeks back. This turned out to be quite the righteous acquisition. 8 Japanese titled tracks at 47 minutes of raw but totally tight interplay. Apparently these guys have been doing their thing together for several years and it definitely shows. Keiji sticks to his patented full frontal 6 string abuse with the occasional vocal on only a few numbers. Mr. Fujikake maintains a very solid, driving style throughout; providing the necessary propulsion for Haino’s antics. I’m reminded of Peeter Uuskyla’s simple yet totally effective trap kit work with Peter Brotzmann on Born Broke. Track 3 in particular sees insistent tom patterns backing a very beautiful light/dark guitar excursion with a nice unexpected stop-start slam. Track 6 starts with some nice lush strumming and builds into something weird and eerie with Keiji playing slide over an ascending riff loop with some nice twists and turns. Overall, a propulsive riff based outing for Keiji. Mostly inside playing with a big set of balls.
Agitation Live In
Free Shibuya Tokyo (special
Nights: edition)
German prog-rock powerhouse reunited as a full band for a few shows in 2007. The sets were mostly comprised of material off the first (and best) two albums, “Malesch” and “2nd”, with a few newer compositions interspersed. The band is tight and the live mix superb, though it seems to have seen some heavy editing in studio. The sound of the band is quite removed from their early 70’s krautrock into a more cleaned up, jammy prog. The guitarists have changed from their heavier dual Quicksilver Messenger Service improv to a clear, late period Steve Hillage tone and interplay. Even “Laila”, their most well-know epic guitar piece, while played well, seems to lack the soulfulness it once evoked. They seem like a group professional musicians playing in an Agitation Free cover band. Still, this band can play and it’s damn interesting to hear them after decades of being more or less a krautrock footnote. I recommend the getting their first two albums and “Live ‘74” before delving into this one. Comes with a DVD of two performances in Germany from 2013.
The Body - I Shall Die Here (RVNG Intl)
Doom. Industrial. Sludge. Drone. Dub. Noise. Techno. Pure evil. To my skeptic surprise, all of these things collide and meld gloriously within this release. The duo of Chip King (guitar/vocals) and Lee Buford (drums/samples) is augmented by several guests on this monolithic slab of despair and unease to form a completely enthralling and unique whole. Sure, metal with electronics has been done before with great result. I assure you that Justin Broderick never made a Godflesh or Jesu record that sounded quite like this. Produced and arranged by the Haxan Cloak, this record feels mixed and edited in a method to an electric Miles Davis lp, yet to very different result. Synths, strings and bass heavy beats mingle with anguished screams, avalanche guitars and crashing drums to create a darkly intoxicating brew. Several tracks feature sampled, pitch lowered spoken word intros that set the utterly hopeless mood perfectly. Metal purists be wary. Those open to intriguing fusions feel free to pass go at least once.
Shooting Guns - Brotherhood Of The Ram (Easyrider Records) This is Instrumental stoner-doom / psychedelic biker rock from the year 2049. It starts out with a slower paced stoner rock jam. The second track though is worth the price of admission alone. Kind of like Motorhead playing those monolithic Hawkwind riffs (song Broken from Overnight Sensation) then locking into a kraut groove ala Cave in a bad mood. Side one ends with a down-tuned doom and organ piece. The second side is more relaxed, moving from spacerock to Shellac, swirling synth and keys, motoric drums and bass. They can be just as heavy as many of their label mates, though I would venture to say this band is the most dynamic and practiced. Shooting Guns borrows from many genres without getting locked into any one sound. Easyrider has built a pretty impressive roster of bands in a short period of time. Check out both of their Swedish doom bands, “Salem’s Pot” and the mighty “Monolord” for more heavy cult rock.
art
and
words
by
Aleix
K.
art by Yoko Molotov from the upcoming “Hungry House� one-shot comic by Taylor White. Coming soon from 3PM comics