Brett
Leigh Dicks (Images and Words)
If the bellowing guitars that so passionately blaze away through
the introduction of "Angry Man" do not solicit a degree
of recognition then the arrival of the vocals certainly will.
"Electric Juju" is the maiden release from the Chainsaw
Men, a collaborative endeavour from local singer and songwriter
Simon Drew and Californian musician (and former Gamma Man) Steve
Gardner. Whilst Simon Drew's absence from the local music scene
has been somewhat conspicuous of late, it is rather refreshing to
see that he has not been lying idle. In fact, it is becoming
increasingly apparent that the former Vanilla Chainsaw frontman
has been anything but stagnant.
Recorded
last year in San Diego, "Electric Juju" is but the first
in a succession of new releases from our roaming son. And while
such undertakings will certainly have afforded the composer with a
range of experiences upon which to draw, it is refreshing to see
that this release owes as much to his hard-hitting foundations
within the Australian music scene as it does to its American
heritage. The essence of the Chainsaw Men is one based simply upon
honesty. Riding on the back of crunching guitars, pounding bass
and rolling drums, the sentiments that emerge through the songs on
this album are at times as brutal as their orchestration. From the
destructive desires of "Angry Man" to the apocalyptic
"Meltdown", this is nothing short of a deluge of intent.
Through
the course of the album we progress from love found ("You
Took My Love"), through deep disillusionment ("Start Of
The End") and finally on to a tale of love long lost
("You Used To Matter To Me"). We graphically encounter a
bout of "Bad Timing" and are literally dragged through a
"Red Scare". But perhaps nowhere does the lyrically
subjection come to a greater climax then within the verses of
"Joyride". Here the similes are thrown as hard and fast
as the guitar lines, with this six and half minute barrage
fittingly culminating in a blur of wailing guitars. The album is
closed out with the liberating overtones of "Break Those
Chains". Not only does this song present a fitting release
from the preceding onslaught but, I am suspecting that, it may
also offer just a hint at what is yet to come.
Toxic
Flyer Fanzine
Hard pounding, powerful rock’n’roll with a
Detroit Rock City edge and a last of early punk rock that comes
out like THE STOOGES, MC5, THE SAINTS, CANDY SNATCHERS, DEAD BOYS
and THE CYNICS. Well, CM sound is pure rock with a garage rock
edge as well as blasts of guitar action rock’n’roll that’s
as dirty as THE STONES. This CD features 12 powerful tunes such as
Angry Man, Bad Timing, Joyride, Took My Love, Meltdown, Take You
Down, 100 Miles Away and more. Just fucking sweet shit.
(TTTTTT1/2)
Ken
Shimamoto (Savage
Beat fanzine)
San Diego's Steve Gardner has gotta be some kind of unsung hero of
rock'n'roll. As editor/chief scribe for Noise for Heroes, surely
America's noblest and most underappreciated rock 'zine of the
eighties and early nineties, Bro. Gardner bore the torch for
honest rockin' music with heart at a time when the U.S. rock scene
had deteriorated into a bunch of spandex-wearing clowns with big
hair on one side (the metal contingent) and the increasingly
fragmented remains of the punk movement on the other. His
features, interviews, and reviews of bands -- many from Australia
or Europe and unknown on these shores -- who continued making
music in the tradition of the Dolls-MC5-Stooges on one hand and
the Ramones-Pistols-Clash on the other, were like a Candygram from
the gods for those with eyes to read and ears to listen.
But
that's not all. Steve was also the mastermind behind NKVD Records,
releasing killer punk discs by the likes of Australia's Exploding
White Mice, Finland's Hitmen 3 and Jalla Jalla (whom he compares
to "Johnny Thunders with a slight twang," but I prefer
to think of as ski-jumping Replacements), and his own Gamma Men
(for whom he drummed and wrote). His great compilation The
Violence Inherent In the System is persuasive evidence that the
Scandinavians and French are producing rockin' music comparable or
superior to anything waxed in these United States the past decade
or so. Under the NKVD umbrella, Steve also runs a mail-order
service that carries only the finest overseas jams that no one
else Stateside would stock. Pretty impressive stuff.
If
all that wasn't enough, Steve was also responsible for one of the
best records of last year, which you haven't heard yet 'cos it
hasn't been released. One week last spring, Steve recorded an
album with the vox and rhythm of Simon Drew, late of Australia's
Vanilla Chainsaws (whose work I'm now anxious to check out), the
bass of former Gamma Man Dave Elizondo, and guitar solos courtesy
of recording engineer Richard Livoni. After searching in vain for
a label with the balls to put it out, Steve broke down and decided
to finance an American release on NKVD (as James Bond said,
"Never say 'never again'"). The album will be released
in the U.K. by a label to be named later, and in Australia by one
Simon Drew is putting together. Dates haven't been nailed down
yet, but my job here is to convince you that you need to hear it.
The
Chainsaw Men's Electric Juju brings together a lot of elements you
probably thought had left the rawwwk for good -- thrashin' punk
energy from the rock-solid engine room, combined with plenty
guitar damage (the confluence of buzzsaw rhythm and soaring leads)
and anthemic tunes. Sure, the post-grunge era is the Age of the
Non-Singer, but Simon Drew's got pipes AND tunes, and Bro. Gardner
matches him shot-for-shot in the compositional stakes. The NKVD
slogan -- "Energy, Melody, Guts" -- definitely applies
here. Listening to the work these guys do, it's hard to believe
the circumstances under which this album was recorded (go read the
article on NKVD's website); they sound like a band that's shared
the experience of blowing up against the back wall of many a
sweaty club, not one that was pulled together in a studio over a
few manic days. From the aptly-titled opener "Angry
Men," the energy doesn't let up until the brief acoustic
interlude at the front end of closer "Break Those
Chains." Hear and be amazed.
Fred
Mills (Phoenix
New Times, 10-05-2000)
Once upon a time, Led Zep front man Robert Plant plaintively
inquired from the stage, "Does anyone remember
laughter?" Not so much flower-powerish drivel as a genuine
lament for rock 'n' roll's loss of innocence, it could be
paraphrased these days along the lines of, "Does anyone
remember aggression?" "Aggression," as in the
pent-up, long-smoldering, soul-on-ice, Spirit of '76 punk-rock
kind of aggro, not the sputtering, jimmy-capped roars of
emasculation that today's mook-rockers and faux-rapsters try to
pass off as "punk."
Transcontinental
rockers the Chainsaw Men, luckily, have long memories not stunted
by excessive exposure to Gameboy and Real World radiation.
In just the space of a dozen songs, they reignite punk, channeling
the venerable Motor City/Bowery sound of the '70s and delivering
manifestos with a ripped-jean viscosity that's all too rare these
days. It's a summit meeting between Australia and San Diego, the
group's members hailing from legendary Oz combo the Vanilla
Chainsaws and our own Gamma Men, hence the combined moniker: The
former's singer/guitarist Simon Drew is joined by the latter's
Steve Gardner on drums and Dave Elizondo on bass. With lead
guitarist Richard Livoni (ex-Blitz Brothers, also of The Shambles)
in tow, the Chainsaw Men assembled this set at Livoni's San Diego
studio last year, ultimately opting for an unusual
triple-distribution scenario via Welsh punk label Smokin' Troll,
Australia's Corrosion and Gardner's own NKVD. (Gardner may
additionally be familiar in 'zine circles from his efforts with
the late, great punk rag Noise for Heroes; he maintains a
superb Web site that's loaded with intelligent commentary at
www.nkvdrecords.com.)
With
elements both old-school (MC5, Radio Birdman, even a touch of Dead
Boys and Jam) and more recent (Bad Religion's brainy
investigations and the Lazy Cowgirls' amped-up Stones rawk come to
mind), it's safe to say that this band can't miss. Or can it?
These days, kids over-weaned on metallic hip-hop and aimlessly
riffing "songs" based on open-tunings might not
"get it." But that's okay; the rest of us with graying
temples and a jones for straightahead rock 'n' roll understand.
From
opening cut "Angry Man," which finds Drew snarling out
his frustrations in his best Mike Ness voice over propulsive
buzz-saw guitars and a full-tilt rhythm section, to the closer
"Break Those Chains," an anthemic gotta-be-me number
given an expansive, New Christs-style acoustic/electric
arrangement, the Chainsaw Men deliver the goods, inspired by
several decades' worth of musical heroes and intent upon carrying
the torch proudly. In between are numerous highlights, and with
both Drew and Gardner divvying up the songwriting chores, there's
never any risk of repetition or formulaic regurgitation. At the
same time, the band carves out a singular sound, full of an
unforced swagger and combined vigor that's inspiring to witness as
it unfolds before the ears. Given the geographical logistics,
here's hoping a collaboration this empathetic continues.
ELECTRIC JUJU - The Chainsaw Men (NKVD
Records):
