Let's say we're in a fight. Hypothetically, you read my Dead Meadow review a couple weeks ago and wrote me an email (come on, click here, I dare you) telling me it was really indulgent, pretentious, and masturbatory. I fume and write you an email back saying it's better than anything you'll ever write, you lousy ass clown. I don't really mean that, but I'm in a bad mood when I type because I have a bloody nose from the dry air in my room, and I can only use one hand on the keyboard while the other clogs my nostrils.
So you find my address and realize we only live five blocks from each other. Wow! You cackle evily, formulating a plan. The next day you surprise me at my door -- I'm in my bath towel because I just took a shower and I've been sitting around reading ESPN Magazine -- and you punch me in the face wearing those Hulk Hands that make electronic noises. "Hulk smash!" they say as you bloody my nose (again! argh!) and you run away, you fucking coward.
So we're in a fight. And that's the last straw for me. I need to get you back. And if I'm really serious, which I am, and I really wanted to mess your shit up, who do I call? That's right, San Fransisco's most notorious and up-fucked noise fiends, the Coachwhips. This stand-out garage-noise trio -- drums, guitar and organ (okay, cheap keyboards) -- recently banged and fucked its way into the hearts of psychopaths everywhere with the 2004's appropriately titled Bangers Vs. Fuckers. And Peanut Butter and Jelly Live at the Ginger Minge is another album to blow up the cemetery to.
The Coachwhips have built a loyal following by blending their riotous noise rock tendencies with amphetamine blues rock. Their songs all sound the same, but oh my god is that a blessing. They've perfected the noise-garage genre, a genre that may never bring about The Great American Album, but one that promises a good time with every hit. And interestingly enough, Ginger Minge marks the band's first progress in sound in quite a while, with Val-Tronic's keyboards cutting across the music more often by adding melody and cartoonish robot whistle grooves. On past efforts, Val has just used her keys to prop up front whipper John Dwyer's chaotic guitar lines. Chalk up the better sounding keyboards and more crunching guitars to Weasal Walter's production values.
Where Val-Tronic's larger role is most apparent is in the album closer, the delightfully wicked "Your Party Will Be a Success." The band plays at a tempo five times slower than any song they've ever recorded, the keyboard leading the song while Dwyer sings intelligibly for the first time in his life. It's an uplifting and catchy indie-garage anthem, one that actually calls to mind the Arcade Fire (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!).
But if that song could make it onto the Unabomber's Top 40 radio hour, the rest is still sure to rape your blood. Album opener "Body and Brains" actually has a lyric about wanting to "melt your fuckface." Wow, I can't wait for them to do that to you.
Oh, you thought I forgot about our fight? Of course not; I don't dick around. And although you have the upper-hand at this moment (my nose bled all over my towel!), you know I'm going to get you back good. So just sit in your house and wait for the Coachwhips. I'll bet you're sweating in your Hulk Hands.
1. Body and Brains
2. I Made a Bomb
3. Did You Cum?
4. Human Skin
5. Ya No Ya Wanna
6. Letter 2 London
7. What Do They Eat?
8. Oops, Uh, Uh
9. PB & J
10. Your Party Will Be a Success
More about: The Coachwhips
