Funny what slips through your fingers and out of your head, eh? Last summer I reviewed Tijuana Panthers’ Semi-Sweet for Gold Flake Paint, but must confess that I hadn’t revisited it at all this year. Let’s re-acquaint ourselves. Semi-Sweet was just one fun, knock-about romp, really. Tons of lo-fi stomp, familiar melodies and harmonies rebounding […]
Give ‘em time, I reckon. They’ve got energy, attitude, a spark. Let’s see if they turn into a Savages or a Divorce. I know which side of the line I’ll be cheering from.
The way The Smiths once covered their sleeves in 60s references, the way Wu-Tang Clan embraced the language and iconography of Shaolin, the way Oasis loved The Beatles, that’s the relationship Iceage has with xenophobia and white supremacy — it may not be the window, but it’s damn sure the drapes.
Song of the day – 437: Prinzhorn Dance School (+ 5 wonderful obscure old school ‘awkward pop’ videos)
Love the silences between the vocals. Sure, we’re talking Gla*o Babies.
They really don’t write ‘em like this anymore.
Iceage have the wisdom to be brief: what they evoke is too much to bear for too long.
This sound is so glorious! It’s like if (early) B-52s and Pylon remained the best-known bands from Athens instead of … goddammit, what was that band’s name again? Coldplay?
Vice has them as, “The Black Lips with boobs”. Man, and they say the art of music criticism is dead.
Reassurance only comes about from belonging to the right cliques. I don’t mean that to sound too negative.
There are no wanky digressions or lead fretwork clogging up the song with rock star dirge, just a well executed use of noise vs silence, skill vs sparse.