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Record Reviews

Published in Reglar Wiglar #4, 1994

Buford's Last Pusser (choke inc.)

Jason Drenik looks mad. When he's up there on that stage screamin' and a strummin', the boy looks mean mad. Mad enough to hurt somebody. Looks like he could jes up and bust somebody's head plum to squash. And he would if he had a might to. And Joe Patt, why that boy's crazier than a pack of coons in a creek. Crazy 'n' mean. Crazy 'n' mean an' scart to die. You can tell by the way he beats on them drums of his.

Jason and Joe, why they're the whole Hairy Patt band. A drummer and a geeter player from Columbus, Ohio. I seen 'em play a live show down there in Cincinnati about two-three weeks back. You can take it from me too, they're a sweaty, greezy, dirty, backwater, shit eatin', pickin' and a grinnin' grunge country rock band who like suckin' on melon, drinkin' with Granny and maybe killin' a feller if'n they git drunk an' angry enough.

Their CD, Bufford's Last Pusser is all about the stuff I just said. There's also a song on there called "Jack and Diane" and as near as I can figure, it's about two American kids growin' up in the Heartland. Seems like Jack, he wants to be a football star and Diane, she wants to be a debutante in the back of Jack's car. Sounds like somethin' that that John Cougar fellah would be writtin' a song about don't it? N'fact, he did write a song about it, but it ain't as angry and as mean mad as the Hairy Patt Band version.

Joe and Jason, they like crusty girls too 'cause they got a song called "Crusty" that goes: "I knew a girl/she was kind of a crusty girl/but that's OK 'cause that's what I like, I like 'em crusty. These boys are sure to get yah jumpin' and a-yellin with Bufford's Last Pusser. The cover is of some slobbery looking white trash breakfast gone wrong but probably looked oh so right after a night of hoochin' and koochin'. The whole thing is just sick enough to make it worth yer pennies. That's what folks like. Makes 'em feel swell—Scat-in-the-Hat

MAMA TICK Gimme the Five BucksMAMA TICK
Gimme the Five Bucks (Dubious Honor)

You are now entering a bullshit-free zone. As much as the youth culture of this country embraces all that is "alternative", there's just some shit out there from Pittsburgh to Pasedena, that just ain't gonna fly in the mainstream. Your MTV, Q-101 listening ass just ain't gonna be down with the truly abrasive and corrosive sounds that lurk just beneath the surface of the passive commercial sea in which the feets of bands like Gin Blossoms and Toad the Wet Sprocket danlge unwittingly above the sonic feeding frenzied jaws of bands like Mama Tick.

Trebly guitar played with that little distortion knob jacked is the way Mama Tick be doin' it. From the humorous "Androgenius" to the soothing nocturnal sounds of "Naptime." Bullshit B Gone be the motto of the Mama Tick.

This is the first release for singer/guitarist Ben Keller's Dubious Honor Records. In an age where some (I said some goddamnit) Independent labels are only as independent as their major label backers can afford to let them be, its good to know that alternatives to those alternatives do exist and Do-It-Yourself doesn't have a 'If someone gives you a big pile of cash" qualifier tacked on it.

I remember back in my 80s hardcore days when a band put out a record they put blood, sweat and tears into the thing and they sold it at shows and on the street and we were a fucking community and we looked out for each other 'cause we had a common goal of making music and not money for the Man.

(Editor's note: Although we appreciate Mr. Germ's glorious punk rock past, there's just not enough room in the pages of this publication for such putrid reminiscences of the glory days of yesteryear. We apologize to Mr. Germ for people not caring and we return now to the Mama Tick record review still in progress)

The cover's got pumpkins on it—Joey Germ

The Windy City Christmas Collection (Two Flight)

You know I just hate Christmas. My damn name says it all. So what does the Brain Corp, aka, the Reglar Wiglar editors give me to review? A Christmas album, perhaps? Very good guess, students--a fucking Christmas album.

Well thank god and Santa that this compilation sounds just enough like a non-Christmas album to get The Grinch to lend an ear. When I say that it sounds like a non-Christmas album I don't mean to suggest that a the record fails in its endeavor to be a Christmas album. It just doesn't have Bing Crosby, Sinatra or some prepubescent boys choir chirping on it.

The CD features ten songs by ten different local artists. From the twang of Urban Twang's rendition of "Away in the Manger," (one of my most hated Yuletide tunes) from the dirge of Slunt's "First Noel" (a song I've always despised) the compilation is a varied, or as smart people say, eclectic mix of musical styles.

Vic Vacumme and the Attachments, Schwa, Nicholas Barron all put their unique touches to all you favorite traditional carols (of course it's got "Jingle Bells" on there) making this record anything but sacrilegious, not that I would mind if it was, I might have liked this CD even more.

Makes for a great birthday gift. Oh yeah, I almost forgot to wish you all a very Pagan Christmas. If anybody ain't doin' nuthin' on the 25th call me and we'll get friggin' wasted. Until then, back to bed. See yah—The Grinch

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