Punk rock doesn’t get grittier or more intense than the Distillers. Brody Armstrong’s voice is as bilious as ever. Likewise, her guitar. Some lineup changes have occurred since The Distillers’ debut record, but they don’t seem to have affected the band’s sound: a wretched, depraved, addled mix of anger, frustration and freedom.

The worst you can say about this record is that perhaps it doesn’t match the intensity of The Distillers’ debut but it still outscorches all its contemporaries. And songs like “The Young Crazed Feeling” burn with hooks and guts that show Armstrong has improved her songcraft without sacrificing its grit.

If I had to point to a band which I felt best embodied punk and all its confusion, emotion, and liberation, I wouldn’t hesitate to say The Distillers. Sing Sing Death House is second only to The Distillers first record on a simple primer of 21st Century punk.

–TA

Simply one of the most fantastic pop records I’ve heard this year. The best aspect of the band’s music is the way the instruments are separated. Keyboards, bass, drums, and guitars can make for a noisy mix if too gratuitously applied, but The Maroons keep each separated and complementary thus avoiding a noisy mish-mash. The hooks of the songs are easy but never obvious. The vocals are rightly the focus of the mix and the tunes. (more…)

It’s tempting to dismiss this trio as a retro act undeserving of your time. Ignoring the trend of garage rock that seized American indie imagination this year, The Sights aim at a later anachronism: 70’s grit rock. The Guess Who, America, and I want to say Humble Pie all come to mind as having been absorbed by The Sights and looked to as paragons of rock ‘n’ roll. Hell, even Golden Earring is invoked in “Got What I Want.” And shit, they segue into Zeppelin’s “How Many More Times” riff to close out the record. This is not a band feigning ignorance of their musical heritage. They embrace it in all its long-mutton-chopped-sideburns glory. The thing is there are way too many sweet spots to dismiss this record as a mere regurgitation of big 70s rock. (more…)

Throughout the past year, I have tried to establish myself in Nashville as the Nell Carter of music criticism. By which I mean being an amorphous leviathan unconstrained by the fashions of a single milieu. Despite my best efforts to avoid the ill-fitting evening gown of conventional music writing, I find myself handed the thong of a top ten list and told to squeeze my year-end wrap-up into its painful confines. Like the derriere of my spiritual mentor, my list will spill generously beyond its boundaries. I detest ranking music. Therefore I have imagined a party with some of my favorite records of the year listed here not in order of importance or “goodness,” but simply in proper party sequence.

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There were several notable albums that never got a proper review in Popshot. With the end of the year around the corner, I wanted to rectify that situation.

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Just a glance at song titles and Misfits-esque cover art is enough to suggest that Sum 41 are trying to shed the pop punk poppet image exploited in promotion of their last record. The music’s heavier, sure, but the guitars are so overdriven and overproduced that there’s no menace or danger in them, or even any fun. And too many times, the songs go for the easy pop-punk chorus-by-the-numbers.

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Competent pop-punk that’s just out for some fun. The girls’ voices are similar to a lot of West Coast riot grrrls’ monotone delivery, but the songs are lighter and more poppy. The guitar is chord-heavy and generally overdriven though there’s not a lot of chugga-chugga amped-up punk. “Six Tickets” reminds me of Crop Circle Hoax who reminded me of Pavement, but that isn’t to say that Here Kitty Kitty sound like Pavement. Some of the slightly sloppy harmonies sound like that dog’s first album and that’s definitely a good thing. “WPV” nails that sloppy yet catchy-ness. The title track “Daddy’s Girl” is probably the best here — its sweet harmonies, relentless beat and sad but simple and direct lyrics all combine to show Here Kitty Kitty has more than just songs about bowling and one-night stands in them.

The world has been waiting for a decent pop-punk cover of Lita Ford’s “Kiss Me Deadly” and I think we’ve found it. I find the song about Buffy the Vampire to be a bit superfluous, but that could be because it follows the perfect cheese of “Kiss Me Deadly.” It ain’t no big thing. I know what I like. And I’ve listened to this record quite a few times.

–TA

[This interview appeared in an issue of Popshot Magazine.]

I met Jim and Jon from Superchunk before their show in Nashville last October. I told them we were doing a different kind of interview, that I had questions for them from our readers. This was a complete fabrication. I made up the questions myself earlier in the day during work. These questions were on notecards that I wanted them to read aloud and answer. Jim read most of the questions. And it went like this (our questions are in bold):

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