Windian Records’ Subscriber Series #3 is out now, and along with a handy and comely die-cut container, an equally attractive 14-page art booklet, and a snazzy 45 spindle, there are six 7-inch discs and matching-designed sleeves by The Seeers, DD Owen, Platinum Boys, Church Bats, War Party, and John Wesley Coleman III. That’s a lot of range from underneath the garage punk umbrella, and it’s all limited to 250 copies, so folks finding their interests fomented shouldn’t delay in remedying the situation.
The tried-and-true two-song 45 radiates an enduring charm, and when a bunch of those platters get amassed and placed in a stack (or slid inside a custom designed box) the level of goodness is likely to increase; I’ve conducted the necessary trials in the matter and can testify that the supposition is a sound one.
Subscription series and boxed 7-inch collections snuggle up very comfortably into the warm and fragrant folds created by the intermingling of underground music and the impulse to accumulate physical objects, and maybe the most famous example of the phenomenon is the Sub Pop Singles Club, the first of which tidily coincided with the Grunge explosion and detailed but one instance of vinyl’s perseverance throughout the compact disc boom.
Sub Pop’s success catalyzed a ton of like minded endeavors advertised largely in fanzines/small press publications of the period and stocked in brick and mortar Mom & Pops all over the map (by ’92 most chains had jumped ship on selling wax). And the majority (but certainly not all) of these clubs subs and boxes targeted those tarred (with varying degrees of affection) as “collector scum.”
Well the heyday of the CD is over, vinyl is still hanging tough and collector scum will probably outlive us all, and in beneficial yin-yang with the digital era Windian’s latest edition includes a download card. The opening 45 in the set (each record has an individual matrix number and is available individually while supplies last) belongs to The Seeers.
A Norfolk, VA act consisting of Rob Ulsh on bass and vocals, Mike Digiloramo on guitar, Ross Guthrie on guitar and vocals, and John Vital on drums, their “Without Lites” is catchy, edgy punk with power pop touches, the guitar deftly combining licks and roar as the occasionally strained vocal notes deliver a boost of personality.
Appropriate to chosen genre, The Seeers are disinterested in overstaying their welcome, “Without Lites” and its flip-side getting to the point in two minutes or less. Additionally, the speedier and raucous (though still quite melodious) “In Jail, In My Mind, On a Prison Planet,” blends some late-‘70s Cali beach vibes into the recipe. Altogether, it’s a suave way to begin the series, the kind of short-player that could easily inspire a handful of successive spins before the next single gets pulled from its sleeve.
And said slab brandishes two by DD Owen, a venture of Sick Thoughts’ vocalist-guitarist Drew Owen, though unlike the Stooge-descended snot racket of his main band, the focus here is on low-budget tech; “Violent Pacifier” employs a keyboard, guitar, bass, and three distortion pedals to suggest Chrome gestating in a late-‘70s garage approximately 20 miles outside of Cleveland.
Snarling riffs, wheedling psychotronic sci-fi tones, heaping doses of skuzzy echo, and flailing note squiggle all gather atop a mechanical beat. It’s backed up by a cover of Mobile, AL synth punk kindred spirits the Gary Wrong Group’s “Setting Fire to Your Loft,” the incessant drumbox even stronger as the track investigates both Metal Urbain and the more far-out regions of the Killed by Death experience.
The third 45 cements Series #3’s commitment to variety via Milwaukee’s good times-rocking Platinum Boys. Matty Mayhem, Joey Turbo, Hollywood Hughes, and a man known as Skufca offer “Candy,” a chunky, high energy ‘70s-derived lump of extended (not Endless) boogie, its unison voices celebrating “a bad chick” as the guitar boldly (some might say flagrantly) solos and the drumming (especially the cymbals) ranks as truly choice.
It enthusiastically conjures images of a carpeted walk-in closet full of immaculately pressed flared denim trousers as the Platinum Boys’ invocation to roll down the highway could definitely jar loose a few suppressed memories of BTO; and yeah, the song does unabashedly recall early ’70s arena rock (Windian mentions Thin Lizzy) but with a thick coat of Detroit lacquer more Bob Seger System than Stooges. It’s also apparent that anything less than four minutes is unsuitable; “Wild Child” is a slower riff groove mixing hard-rock, heavy glam and proto punk with soul-tinged vocals and long solo sections.
This may seem a wee bit afield from Windian’s general wheelhouse of garage/KBD action, but nah. It does portray the Platinum Boys as a pack of Sabbath fans far more excited over sucking down inexpensive suds out of cans (they’re proud proponents of the Miller Lite lifestyle) than in pledging allegiance to Satan. However, Brooklyn’s Church Bats guide the scenario back within expected parameters through the raw KBD-styled punk of “Foreign Land,” a number that would work spectacularly on a mix (or during a DJ night) beside the gnarled grandeur of Vicious Visions’ “I Beat You.”
The Church Bats are Todd on guitar and voice, Shingo on drums, and Christina on bass, and their instrumental “Half Man, Half Shellfish” locates the essence of Link Wray as channeled by The Cramps; the amp tone burns like untreated VD, the trap set and bass are splendidly simple, and they don’t really care if you think the tune’s too long.
And friend, that’s crucial. Likewise, it’s a gas to hear the bands above at such fresh individual stages, though the contents are filled out by a pair of substantially more prolific entries. So it is with War Party of Fort Worth, TX, a busy quintet composed of Cameron Smith on guitar and vocals, Peter Marsh on drums, Tyler Moore on bass, Ricky Williford on guitar, piano and trumpet, and Chris Waldon on organ and trombone.
Going purely on title led me to assume “Teenager on Drugs” would exude swagger comparable to Ty Segall, Mick Collins, or the late Jay Reatard, but actual inspection revealed a highly developed hunk of doo wop drenched pre-Beatle youth pop. The group has cited Dion and the Belmonts, and that’s on the money, “Teenager on Drugs” flirting with a certain Pomus-Shuman-penned hit by the Bronx trio.
Some will find the effort too mannered for 2015, but the preparation needed to pull it all off won me over, and Williford’s bountiful horn adds unexpected and welcome flavor. Its flip “D.R.U.N.K.” is a gruffer affair, featuring Farfisa-esque tones as the band grapples (suitably, given their name) with a festive atmosphere that can be traced to ‘60s frat-dancehall-club sing-along rousers.
Throwing back less deliberately, it contrasts nicely with “Teenager on Drugs,” leading sans disruption into John Wesley Coleman III’s culminating 45. A resident of Austin, Coleman’s been at it since the tail end of the ‘90s and has a slew of albums out including two for Goner, Bad Lady Goes to Jail and The Last Donkey Show.
Many garage hopefuls stagger and stumble by laying on too much attitude; compounding the issue is the urge for a wall-to-wall punk-out by volume, velocity and sloppiness, the environs becoming beleaguered with generic energy. But not Coleman; his buzzy and buoyant “I Feel Like a Sad Clown” is infused with left-field soul-bearing, but it’s also clear the objective is crafting a memorable slab of songwriting.
Basking in unforced loopiness and the right amount of edge, the tune is a winner, as is the quirky and vibrant garage of “I Found a Home,” the cut lending a touch of psych-pop to the equation through a woozy keyboard line. It’s a nifty little number and totally fitting not just as a b-side but as the finale to the whole shebang.
A dozen cuts drawn from six worthwhile acts selected with thematic clarity in a splendid package; Windian’s Subscriber Series #3 may be limited (150 on black, 100 on see-thru vinyl), but it deserves to be handled by more than just the persistent, sticky fingers of lingering collector scum.
The Seeers,
A-
DD Owen,
A
Platinum Boys,
A-
Church Bats,
A-
War Party,
B+
John Wesley Coleman III,
A-
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A
