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While Lost At Sea endeavors to write about a great deal of the music it receives, there are hundreds of releases that slip through the cracks - things too strange, too transient or (yes) too bad to earn a full review. EPs, CD singles and 7" records are particularly hard to deal with because there are so many of them - and they are so small - that they often get lost in the shuffle. This sometimes means that deserving music released in non-album form is not reaching the people who might enjoy it most.
In an attempt to rectify this situation and to save give some of this music its due, Lost At Sea occasionally dredges through the bins of EPs and singles to weed out a select few for comment.
Little Mountain - Wolves For Dinner (self-released)
A single, lone tear rolled down his cheek as he watched her go. As she faded out of sight in the distance, he allowed his mind to drift off to earlier, happier memories. Time spent frolicking in the green grass of their youth. Running wild with the wind at their backs and the sun in their faces. The silky smoothness of her hair as he ran a brush through it in the soft light of dusk. Her sharp teeth lovingly nibbling his fingertips as he fed her carrots. Yes, she had been a wonderful friend and companion. Now the best she could hope for was to be dog food or glue.
Caroline - Where's My Love (Temporary Residence Limited)
I imagine this is what music will sound like in the future. And not in that "electronica is the next big thing" bullshit way. I mean like people will bump this out of their flying cars while a robot blows them in the passenger seat. It's not hard to believe this being sung by a beautiful, flawless face on an eighty-foot tall animatronic billboard with speakers at full volume to pacify the masses. In the year 3000, when your great^10 grand kids are pissed because Martians are stealing their jobs and they've had soilent green for the twentieth straight day in a row, Caroline will be there to sooth their troubled souls.
Cordova - Lie Until It Becomes the Truth (Limekiln)
This CD made a weird rattling sound while spinning in my CD player. Interestingly, the rattle was more compelling than the music contained on Lie Until It Becomes the Truth.
Pio Mazzatti - Teenie Fantastic (A Cottage Industry)
This EP came with the best press sheet I have ever read. Devoid of the usual tough guy band photo and comparisons to Sonic Youth, My Blood Valentine, and the Beatles, Pio Mazzatti instead kept it simple and cracked some jokes. Who doesn't like jokes? Perhaps I was a bit biased by what I had read, but the CD didn't disappoint. The songs are all over the place- rocking, discordant, snotty, and veering into post-punk. The music is dense and over-stimulated my brain in a good way.
Captain Bringdown and Buzzkills - Feel Good Tunes (Sock Hop)
From the band's name I was certain that my boss was a member. Browsing through the liner notes, I was surprised to learn that Captain Bringdown and the Buzzkills not only doesn't feature my boss, but is also completely devoid of everyone else I work with. Instead, the band is an ironic name for that perpetually peppy and happy genre of music, ska. Ah, ska music. There is a time and place for ska music. The time, 1993. The place, SOMA in downtown San Diego. Buck O'Nine could be heard on the local "Alternative" radio station and I hadn't been exposed to enough music in my early age to completely scoff at ska. I was thirteen, the crushing weight of the world hadn't yet turned me into an irrepressible cynic, and sometimes they sang about skateboarding. Give me a break, you probably liked it too.
Conjure One - Extraordinary Ways (Nettwerk America)
This CD inexplicably had "just for you to Sk8 to" written in sharpie on the label. I was tingling with anticipation as I popped it into the stereo, wondering what my generally clueless editor thought passed for "Sk8" music. It took about eight seconds to get the joke. Not really doing much skating to this, it's more like music for an asshole yuppie couple's austere living room. Oh look, the record label is in Beverly Hills. Go fucking figure.
Sickoakes - Seawards (Type)
I'm sure the snow is white and plentiful in Sweden this time of year. The country must be a regular Winter Wonder Land. I like to pretend I am there, unable to go outside because the door is blocked by the remnants of the previous night's blizzard. I would make a fire, put the kettle on the stove, and pop Seawards into the CD player. After a few minutes, the fire's warmth, chamomile tea, and melodic instrumental music would conspire to make me sleepy. Resting my eyes for one song, I would doze off into a dream world inhabited by sandy beaches and pink alcoholic drinks with little umbrellas in them. It wouldn't be long before I was splashing around in the water in my obscene European speedo. Mindful of the harmful UV rays, the tan, bikini clad natives and I would rub suntan lotion all over each other. There is no snow in sight and even with lotion on, my pasty white Nordic skin is starting to burn. Then the tempo of the music increases, snapping me groggily out of my sunny little vacation. With the fire dying out, I am back to being stuck in my cold house under ten feet of snow. Damn you, song four.
Job For A Cowboy - Doom (King of the Monsters)
Holy fucking shit. These guys are still in high school? I didn't even know music like this existed when I was in high school. And even if I had heard it, I probably would have just pissed my pants and started crying. Because of the social strata that is prevalent in high school, these guys are either the coolest dudes for being in such a gnarly band or they are the biggest fucking outcasts at the school. Could you imagine being a parent and a) having your son not only listen to Death Metal/Metalcore, but also, b) having your son's Death Metal band practicing in your garage everyday? Try having to explain that one to Ned Flanders next door.
An aspiring global adventurer who cut his teeth on the sandy beaches and dirty bitches of Southern California, Kevin Alfoldy now spends his non-vacation days in Brooklyn, New York, where he occasionally finds the time to rub the crust out of his eyes long enough to contribute reviews and feature articles for LAS. A longtime staff member, Kevin also captains the tattered, often half-sunk raft of EPmd, our irregular column of EP reviews.
See other articles by Kevin Alfoldy.
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