Words by Peter Tanski
Peter Tanski grew up in the small but thriving Wilkes-Barre/Scranton area, fronting several bands and founding the music and literary fanzine, Exmortus. After a brief stint living in Manhattan’s Lower East Side and writing for Legends Magazine, he returned to Pennsylvania where he began to work with web based music site NEPA Rocks. He currently fronts the melodic hardcore/punk band, Heart Out and hosts The Book of Very Very Bad Things PodZine.
“What really matters is what you like, not what you’re like… books, records, films – these things matter. Call me shallow, but its the fuckin’ truth.” – Rob Gordon in “High Fidelity”
Social interaction and ultimate integration into the herd begins with shared cultural and environmental touchstones for us all as young persons. Recognition of common interests and struggles have ever bound groups of humans into subsets, crews, cliques, and cults. In the early 1980’s, before we all scattered into the caste system of Junior and Senior High Schools, young boys of the era bonded over sports teams, action or horror films, and the ultimate litmus test, professional wrestling. This was the golden era. Having had the good fortune of being born in the Northeast, the WWF were OUR regional federation. Sure, we had AWA, NWA, WCW, and later ECW (a Pennsylvanian fed!), but the WWF was quickly becoming the marquee organization in pop culture, and having copies of Pro Wrestling Illustrated on your desk or while on the school bus became a thing of status. If your parents allowed you the stipend to purchase such lauded objects as the sacrosanct rubber action doll (teehee) you were most certainly to be admired.
Saturday mornings, canonically adhered to morning cartoon lineups usually gave way to the more refined pre-teen entertainment of your “Saved By The Bell” styled shows, another channel was airing what was to become it’s own very distinct movement, with the advent of the weekend 1-2 punch of Superstars on Saturday and Wrestling Challenge on Sunday. The Babyfaces (or simply “Faces”) ruled the hallways and schoolyards. ’Hulkamania’ emblazoned in a spike, red scrawl across marigold tees had become as common a sight as Esprit and Jordache. My own ‘Hot Rod!’ white ringer tee (the gear of the late Rowdy Roddy Piper) left me as an outlier because rooting for a ‘Heel’ (or bad guy) was not looked well upon by the more pedestrian in our circles. It was our first taste of high melodrama, a soap opera for guys with a meticulously choreographed fight as the payoff of every interaction.
My initial attraction to “sports entertainment,” much like the initial ignition of a match-head, flared intensely and was extinguished just as quickly. The over saturation of wrestlers in the outer reaches of pop culture began to sully its exclusivity in my eyes. Hulk Hogan and Roddy Piper appeared in films, most notably the incredible John Carpenter dystopian opus “They Live” starring Piper, and Hulk in a Rocky sequel, plus Jessie ‘The Body’ Ventura’s unforgettable turn in ‘Predator’. Captain Lou Albano prominently featured in Cyndi Lauper’s music videos, and a general immersion of all things wrestling echoed into the record industry with WWF’s The Wrestling Album, which lead to the Rock & Wrestling connection and the album at the center of this diatribe, Lesser Care.
Last month, we covered the titanic Texan trio, Lesser Care’s teaser E.P., ‘Face Turn’ (when a Heel switches alliance in wrestling). Their full length record ‘Heel Turn’ (self-released), continues the mythos of pro-wrestling in name, yet weaves a gossamer of sonic threads that can be traced back to artists that they also share space with in this very column. Beware the Ides of March, indeed. This month…
Be it fate or a confluence of happenstance, the Scottish answer to Echo & The Bunnymen – The Jesus and Mary Chain, have emerged with an album as sweetly apocalyptic as any of their back catalog with the seething neo-noir boogie of ‘Glasgow Eyes’ (Fuzz Club). This is J&MC ascending to a new and different peak, retaining what had made them undeniable and matching that with a cocksure sense of what is to come.
The ever worshipped and adored Ride have graciously returned us, baring 12 gifts in the form of modern dream pop firebrand ‘Interplay’ (Wichita Records Ltd.), a recording as emotionally evocative and masterfully crafted as the Shoegaze staple ‘Going Blank Again’.
With the release of a record with a title as risqué as ‘Mesh And Lace’ evoking light B&D in the Reagan/Thatcher era 1980’s, New Wave never sounded sexier or more Post-Punk than Modern English in their original incarnation. With their latest platter of Brit-Pop infused Rock, ‘1 2 3 4’ (Mesh And Lace Recordings, LLC) owes as much to Ned’s Atomic Dustbin and Blur as it does Joy Division. This record blends everything that was great about ‘I Melt With You’ and ’Someone’s Calling’ with a willingness to depart from what’s bankable in favor of what feels good.
Within the confines of this column, I’ve sweepingly extolled the virtues of Al Jourgensen’s Ministry, beginning with his soon to be re-recorded and reinterpreted post-electro-dance-punk stepchild, ‘With Sympathy’. ‘HopiumForTheMasses’ (Nuclear Blast), the second to (and… second) final album under the Ministry banner, is a scathing critique of January 6th insurrectionist, Proud Boy, MAGA-Merica, replete with a sound as heavy and obtuse as Psalm 69. The shape of Al’s future plans seem to be an honest retirement, as he’s jettisoned his facial piercings and cut his dreads… but not before his final act. The coming storm.
Screaming from the mists of Portland, indie rock naval gazers The Dandy Warhols began as the toast of Pacific Northwestern underground psych rock. One major label deal and 3 albums on, they struck commercial gold with the their sole megahit, 2000’s ‘Bohemian Like You’. They have steadily released great albums to less fanfare, but this months record, ‘Rockmaker’(Sunset Blvd Records/Beat The World) is is a study in dynamics. With sounds that run across their freakout beginnings to the mod indebted scooter boy rock of their breakthrough third long player as well as the opulent inclusion of Slash on one song, and the ever curmudgeonly Frank Black on the cheeky send up ‘Danzig With Myself’, this is a band comfortably soaking in their second act.
In the Singles category, another (former) Portland via Chicago band, Soft Kill, have been dropping singles for their forthcoming ‘Escape Forever’ LP (Cercle Social). “Come Hang From The Rooftops” and “Englewood” are opposite moods that share a common thread in the confines of a recording that promises to join the dots between “Joshua Tree” era U2 and Cock Sparrer. The most recent drop, the anthemic “Joy Is A Crime”, is riding a line between The Business and Cockney Rejects, only to refrain to an anthemic, ”Disintegration” era Cure vibe. This collection exemplifies SK’s constant growth, willingness to explore, and dedication to both song craft and Punk ethos. A fully immersive story breathes within the bricks and mortar of both tracks, and beg to be lent ears.
Recent Pennsylvania transplants The True Faith have teamed with synth ingenue Dutch Experts for collaborative single “The Means”(A La Carte Records), which shakes a cold and time wizened finger into the face of the snotty listener.
After having just released their career best, “I Love You, Burn In Hell”, Palm Ghosts have kicked off a singles collection, beginning with “Another Blind Machine”, that will release incrementally throughout the year, culminating in all being collected as one album for release on Poptek/Sweet Cheetah.
Harlow Schmid of the grimy, brutal Tombs has been dealing in Blackened Americana that is the definition of Gothic as Del Judas. His phenomenal new song, “Angela”, is available to stream along with his previous album “Deity”from 2017 (Del Judas Records).
In closing, I return from singles competition to ringside in order to gain a better view of an album that will undoubtedly be the one to beat this year, Lesser Care’s magnum opus, ‘Heel Turn.’ The tracks that inhabit the squared circle of this particular ring dwarf anything that had come before them. As much as I still adore their first record, “Heel Turn” abandons anything nearing cliche, declares ultimate independence, shatters preconceptions regarding their sound and image, and makes the full “Heel Turn” that much more dramatic. This is the record by which all others in this field will be judged this year. The Heavyweight Championship belt hangs about Dez’s waist, and he is roiling with feral ferocity at the mere mention of a challenger. Let’s get it on, Mean Gene and Gorilla Monsoon!