Friday, February 6, 2015
The Bingers on Tall Pat Records
Like all good labels, Tall Pat Records started one evening after one too many beers (I can relate) when Pat convinced a Chicago band, The Dumpster Babies to let him (let him!!! the nerve) put out their single. Years later and Pat hasn't given up on his dream in fact becoming, "the single most important record label this century." Congratulations Pat, how does it feel to swim in a pile of money? Seems like you'd want to take a shower after diving into the stacks of hundreds...or maybe he's always playing his white grand piano next to an infinity pool while girls in balaclavas fire AK47's out over the ocean. Look at all his shit....but I'm going to stop imagining what it must be like to be rich AND tall and listen to one of his records that got him there. (It's by a band called The Bingers, three dudes playing damaged surf rock...details)
A-Side's "Fukushima Hornets" opens heavily split between the channels, a snazzy high hat comes from one direction while a truly glitched out, delayed guitar sweeps in from the other. They're taking surf to a truly psychedelic place. The vocals remind me of Deadbolt, way off in the background, buried in the basement, singing into one of those construction light bulbs, the music entirely in his head. Lyrics about speed - is this about kamikaze pilots or a Japanese biker gang? The chorus gets progressively more blown out and I think they're even using the MXR Blue Box more successfully than almost anyone I've ever heard. Cymbals and a belching ringtone fades out with hammered, spring loaded, feedback. Just when you think this is following that hypnotizing loop forever they go and pull down your pants in front of everyone.
"Motorbike Cha-Cha" I'm really liking this deranged surf sound they're playing with, this one positively overdriving one side of the mix. In the middle of this organized, ordered reverb melody they throw kerosene on the whole thing with crazy effects, standing right in front of the cracked speaker cabinet. More reverb on the vocals this time and this could even be called bluesy - like if Dirty Beaches made out with King Kahn. Gross.
B-Side's "Hideous Heart" has some serious low end humming waiting for the rest to slowly build up. They've jettisoned that surf for some dirty layered almost blues shoegaze? This is getting weirder and weirder in the best way. A solo comes in with a subtle seriousness somewhere in the middle of this drum bashing and sustain. It's almost a shoegaze Walkmen feel, busting out so much sound that the tape starts to splinter, not to mention the volume is already turned up to the limit because that's just what sounds the best and singing over that is an exercise in futility but he's back there trying like hell anyway. A snare roll opens "Wired" and they turn back down to meet the A-Side's tone winding back in on reverb surf melodies and solos held together with rougher edges and tougher riffs here. It's darker than most of this beach stuff that's about partying, bonfires and those matte grey hotrods. This is the day after when you lost your pink slip to a faster 454 and the beer is gone along with the sun. It's cold and grey but the surf is still pounding in on you, that tide is rising and maybe this time you won't get out of the way.
Wow Pat, that really got dark there.
Pick this up from Tall Pat Records, he has to keep replacing that piano. It's outside. Just sitting there. All the time. He's rich.