The Zig Zags: 10-12
The Zig Zags are the future of rock’n’roll – if we’re all gonna die in the next five minutes. And who’s to say we won’t? These hairy doper freaks from Los Angeles are basically Black Flag dressed up like The Stooges for a Halloween party that never ends. 10-12 is a greatest non-hits collection, scraping together a couple of years’ worth of singles, EPs and various whatnots, all released on gloriously lo-fi cassette. The clear standout track contained in this collection is Monster Wizard, which is a potent psychedelic nightmare of fuzzy slacker-doom. And there’s plenty more where that came from too. There’s the ear-battering space madness of Human Mind, the cock-rocking drug-punk of Turbo Hit and the drowsy pill-ride of Eyes. Basically, if you dig grungy acid-punk riffs and ramshackle drums, and songs about flying saucers and skeletons riding motorcycles – and if you’re reading this column, I’m assuming you do – then it’s time to join the motherfuckin’ Zig Zag party, man. (8⁄10)
Liquor Store: Yeah Buddy
Sleaze basically goes in two directions these days: either you’re an 80s hold-out living a long-gone dream, or you’re just a creep from nowheresville with a terrible day job and a stash of soggy, beer-soaked porn in the garage. Like these guys, for example. Drunks from Iowa who play deliriously trashy rock’n’roll, and then go sleep it off in the woods somewhere. Perfect. (7⁄10)
Various Artists: Real Fucking Tribute: A Tribute to the Trashcan Darlings
Take it from a guy who once released a Zodiac Mindwarp tribute record: releasing a comp dedicated to a band most of the world has never heard of is utter folly, not to mention financially ruinous. That being said, this celebration of the Norwegian murder-glam champs by a dozen or so sleaze-column vets is boss. (7⁄10)
White Dynomite: White Dynomite
White Dynomite are a buncha lifers from Boston – including a couple of dudes from stoner-rawk champs Roadsaw – dressed up in white thrift-store suits, bashing out a set of chugging late-70s sex metal. It’s like a wedding band took a load of acid and then went fuckin’ bananas. You’d be a fool not to wreck your living room rocking out to this album. (7⁄10)
The Joystix: Wasted
Hungarian sleaze-rockers return for another blast of nimble-fingered drunk’n’roll. Six tracks here, all paying homage to Johnny Thunders, Ginger Wildheart and true-blue, booze-guzzling, fist-pumping weekend warriors everywhere. I almost forgot about the simple pleasures of a scorching guitar solo. If you’re into the Backyard Babies (before they turned into Def Leppard), snap this up. (6⁄10)
