The Thermals
http://www.thethermals.com
styles: twee politico pop, lo-fi punk
others: Beat Happening, Green Day, Dead Kennedys
 The
Body, The Blood, The Machine
Sub Pop, 2006
rating: 3.5/5
reviewer: chadwicked
A kick in the seat of your pants. A swift one. A jolt. Jarring. A secular
lightning bolt. A steel toe to the hiney. Pack the crack with leather, suede,
fat laces, and tongue. Aglets will puncture. Rise. Rise. Rise out of the chair.
The Thermals are stuffing our keisters with motivation. They want us to move.
Mobilize. Escape. Become escapists, they say, over the shredding of guitars like
the shredding of documents. Hutch Harris and Kathy Foster share the duties.
Where'd the drummer go?
The Body, The Blood, The Machine is a charge against religious and
governmental control and the conflict they cause. So The Thermals make it their
cause to invigorate listeners and make declarations with bullet points instead
of points with bullets. They're rushing through your suburb, running over
mailboxes (it's the closest symbol of government they can get to). Envelopes
explode in the air. Stamped debris falling from the sunny sky. It's a mail
storm. The Thermals are a maelstrom.
The only drawback is Hutch Harris' vocals. Hutch's voice isn't exactly that of a
renegade. The kitchen countertops are kid-proof. The voice is safe from sharp
corners. It is round and soft. It's a Mark Rudd voice. A P.W.M. voice
(Privileged White Male, or: Powerless, Wuss, Misguided). No word yet on whether
The Thermals will perform on the steps of Columbia University any time soon. But
their voice is being heard. Sub Pop has wonderful distribution. There's a bloody
body on the machine. Help The Thermals remove the functions from the machine,
hollow it out, deliver it to an antique shop, and give it sheen.
1. Here's Your Future
2. I Might Need You to Kill
3. An Ear For Baby
4. A Pillar of Salt.
5. Returning to the Fold
6. Test Pattern
7. St. Rosa and the Swallows
8. Back to the Sea
9. Power Doesn't Run on Nothing
10. I Hold the Sound
 Fuckin
A
Sub Pop, 2004
rating: 2/5
reviewer: etan
The Thermals' debut, More Parts Per Million, received ample lauding for
its raw lo-fi production and its fresh interpretation of the new punk hybrid.
Let's remember, it only cost them $60 to record the entire album in their
basement. Built on bone-crushing melodies and exclamatory vocals, The Thermals
unleashed a 33-minute assault of ultra-violent rock and roll. With this success,
The Thermals' sound spread across college and university campuses like an
uncontrollable brushfire. Predictably, The Thermals' follow-up to their spastic debut was highly
anticipated by both fans and critics.
However, instead of writing a batch of songs that augment or refine their previous formula,
The Thermals have released a near-identical, near-carbon copy of their debut record and have given
it the title Fuckin A. Other than the improved production (which actually
falters the new album), Fuckin A is a perfect example of indie laziness
and indolence. In 12 songs, The Thermals fail to showcase their creativity by
crafting repetitive ditties throughout this short and unrefined album.
If you own More Parts Per Million, you have more than enough Thermals to
chew on. If you don't own More Parts Per Million, it might do you well to
worry about your safety first before diving headfirst into the world of The
Thermals. Though some songs that are noteworthy, they're certainly not
worth risking your life over. Fuckin A, I hope the Thermals regain their strut
before I go completely bald.
1. Our Trip
2. Every Stitch
3. How We Know
4. When You're Thrown
5. Remember Today
6. A Stare Like Yours
7. Let Your Earth Quake, Baby
8. God and Country
9. End to Begin
10. Forward
11. Keep Time
12. Top of the Earth
 More Parts per Million
Sub Pop, 2003
rating: 3/5
reviewer: wyatt
Recorded in the house of The Thermals brainchild, Hutch Harris, More Parts
Per Million oozes lo-fi charm. Hutch clearly shares the same production
values as Bob Pollard. There are no egos here, just some friends getting
together to bang out a barnburner or two. And these friends are no strangers to
the indie rock world. The aforementioned Hutch (Hutch & Kathy), bassist Kathy
Foster (Hutch & Kathy and All Girl Summer Fun Band), guitarist Ben Barnett (Kind
of Like Spitting), and drummer Jordan Hudson (Operacycle) have impressive day
jobs as well.
The Thermals blow out of the speakers with a reckless and sloppy rush one would
expect from a $65 home recording. Equal parts rock, pop, and punk go into The
Thermals potent mix. Add in Hutch’s nasal vocal delivery, which sounds like it’s
being forced through a filter that hasn’t been changed in years. These
ingredients make More Parts Per Million enjoyable for what it is. A no
frills half-hour blast of indie rock not intended to save the world or change
anyone’s life. There are a few standout tracks including Foster’s bass driven “I
Know the Pattern” and album sendoff “An Endless Supply."
The Thermals debut is over almost as quick as it came, clocking in less than 30
minutes. And by that time it’s okay since you’ve had your fill. You didn’t
overstuff yourself though, you’ll be back for seconds.
1. It’s Trivia
2. Brace and Break
3. No Culture Icons
4. Goddamn the Light
5. Out of the Old and Thin
6. I Know the Pattern
7. Time to Lose
8. My Little Machine
9. Overgrown, Overblown
10. A Passing Feeling
11. Back to Gray
12. Born Dead
13. An Endless Supply
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