Monday, April 20, 2015

Makeouts on Radio Obligato Records


Even Stockholm, Sweden can't escape the snotty garage sound covering the globe. I like to imagine there isn't a city on the planet that doesn't have it's own drunken mess of a stripped down three or four piece garage band recording songs about pizza, drinking and the opposite sex on whatever recording devices are available. There is something decidedly classic about the instrumentation and impulse. It also selfishly means there's going to be a lot more seven inches to talk about. The Makeouts are a four piece that don't care where they're from only they've found blood ties with the likes of Hunx and Ty overdriving distortion, drums - vocals into the red. With a couple of full length releases on Bachelor records, their last single was nine years ago so lets face it those guys were probably influenced by The Makeouts in the first place.

A-Side's "All about you" rushes in with machine snare, high twisted multiple shreiking guitar melodies and bass running up the fretboard pushing the limits of the VU meters hitting the edge of that plastic box. A massive party sound, the whole band yelling in the back of this ensemble sound, somehow remembering to keep this on track in hyper Matthew Melton style in that sweet combination of speed and melody. Anyone that's opened for Jay Reatard is automatically good with me and there's a hardcore Nobunny feel to this, centered on melody but mostly out for speed and tough greaser vocal that sounds like the end of the party with a sinister undertone, made extra scratchy on this pressing. Pining for this relationship and sounding unbalanced and manic like the narrator in Blood Visions, off his medication and hopefully harmless?
B-Side's "I can't help myself" is subtitled '(ode to record collectors)' on the front sleeve cranks in a scratchy lead guitar strut, thuddy caveman smash drums and a stumbling second lead walks right into that shop with the boxes of dollar records out in the sidewalk. Completely snotty and coming on like a worn adverts single with no sleeve. The lyrics I'm catching are hilarious; comments on the message boards, reissues, driving hours to go look through a garage, stacking shelves to get satisfaction. It hits a little too close to home, but then this'll be the first song to actually address my serious problem. I'm not going to admit it though. They start to really pound away into a dirge version of the track just as it fades out though. Guess we have to wait for the import seven inch with the alternate B-Side.

I found it at this Swedish distro or head over to radio obligato.

Not from this single but you get the idea:

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