GAD! Zine

    There's been a lot of killer music coming out this year. So much so, in fact, that I'm having a difficult time narrowing down my faves. A "Top 10" list feels impossible to manage. How can one pack so many different sounds and ideas into such an arbitrary number? I very nearly flaked out on writing this article, an assignment that I'd made up for myself in the first place. But then I looked at this idea from a different angle. As much as I moan and fuss over making such a tight list, it's actually easier the smaller the list gets. "Top 4" is waaaay less effort to work out than "Top 10", and not just because it would, in theory, be less than half the writing. It's just so much simpler to figure out my 4 by looking at the 2017 CDs still living in my car. These discs continue to be the soundtrack to my travels and I imagine they will continue to be well into 2018. #4 Trash Cats - Wardcore This is a nasty little band that just seem

The perfect cover.     Now, this is my kinda Christmas album! Owls & Other Animals and The Trash Cats (the other other animals??) have teamed up to deliver us a perfect soundtrack for shoving the ol' plastic tree into the fireplace and sitting back and inhaling the fumes. These folks send up the seasonal standards in a fragile, vulnerable lo-fi acoustic set. Whisper-crooning classics like "White Xmas" in a tunnel of introspection. Beauty in the shaky basics. Raw. Another kinda raw is the hellbent hollerin' version of "Grandma Got Run Over" that ain't for the kiddies. Or the adults. Chaos. Hilarity. It is rare to find a holiday release so wobbly, stripped down, schizophrenic, and.... honest. This is what real and interesting people have playing in the background when they laugh and cry and spill their drinks and spill their guts. I dunno who's idea it was to put these two groups together, but what they have created is nothing short of a Chri

    Haven’t had the pleasure to catch this trio live (YET), but they are no doubt a ton of sleazy fun. And maybe a bit of introspection. Alcoholic Appalachian acoustic crust-punk. Not so much cowpunk. More like hillbilly gutterpunk. And kinda um... satanic. Briscoe Darling hocked a loogie on a pet cemetery during a full moon. That snot grew a brain, picked up a guitar, and started singing his heart out. To recap: Mucous grew a brain AND a heart, but the heart is gone, because he sang it out. The bass is deep and sad and as real as an AA meeting. And... Hey, where are the drums? No drums. Washboard. Because fuck you. -Harmless    Trash Cats on Bandcamp Trash Cats on Facebook