Here’s how it works...
In an attempt to prove once and for all that bands need to be far more careful when choosing their names, we’ve rummaged through the CMJ schedule and handpicked nine acts we’ve never heard of, and, before actually listening to their music, given each a speculative review based solely on their chosen moniker. Continue reading to see if our judges, Mike Conklin, Sharon Steel and Lauren Beck, were on point.
1. The Alright Ma’s The Assumption: At one point a few years ago, the Alright Ma’s lead-singer said to the rest of the band, “Yo, you know who’s a really good, really underrated songwriter? This guy Bob Dylan. He’s from Minnesota, I think, just like Tapes ‘n’ Tapes. He did this really weird, nasaly kind of indie-folk, but then got all kooky and started making gospel records. But I think I’d like to take our name from one of his earlier songs — it’ll be like a sly nod to the music we hold dear, but only people who really know a lot will know what it means. I think The Alright Ma’s would be perfect, even though it means we’ll have to use an apostrophe incorrectly.“ Acoustic folk music from 20-somethings who remain blissfully unaware that the alt-country movement happened already.
The Reality: Well, we’re not exactly sure. For some reason they don’t have any songs posted on their MySpace page, which is odd. But they classify themselves as “folk,” and one review we found describes one of their tunes as “a stripped down Zeppelin-esque blues song.” Even without any further evidence, we still feel comfortable giving ourselves credit for the prediction. And also? Guys, really, not a good band name.
2. Girls Like Cigarettes The Assumption: This could go one of two ways. The most obvious outcome, we think, is that we’re dealing with an all-girl, three-piece punk band in the same vein as the Donnas. Lots of Big Rock posturing, with simple, hard-driving power chords and maybe a lot of leather. Either that or they’re the exact same thing, only made up of three skinny white dudes who love the Queers.
The Reality: Dead wrong. But oh, how we wish we weren’t. Girls Like Cigarettes are an alt-rock band in the most traditional, damning sense of the term, albeit one that talks about how much they love the Pixies and Hüsker Dü. They portray themselves as timeless, but in actuality are just waiting patiently for a return to the days when Creed was ruining rock and roll forever and ever.
3. Slang Chickens The Assumption: The assumption is that we’re going to have to send CMJ a letter breaking the news to them that not a single person who comes to town for the Marathon wants to see another terrible jam-band with funk influences and a sense of humor about as developed as a sixth-grade boy’s.
The Reality: Ok, we were wrong. But we still can’t really even say what they sound like. They seem to alternate between tense, jumpy 80s-style post-punk, and a more organic, almost country-tinged take on indie-rock. We want to like them, honest, but we’re not sure how we feel about writing “Slang Chickens” on our binder, and we can’t help feeling like we’re missing something terribly lame about them. You don’t just go and call your band Slang Chickens because you have really good taste in stuff, now do you?
4. DD/MM/YY The Assumption: These folks are seriously in tune with the nuances of filling out forms in the year 2008. Not willing to give in to the tyranny of technological issues that were ushered in with the 21st century, DD/MM/YY are nostalgic for the good old days, when two digits were plenty for telling someone what year you were talking about. They miss the 90s. They miss the stable economy, they miss Saved By the Bell and they miss dial-up. But mostly, they miss Superchunk and Pavement, the two bands most integral to the development of their melodic, guitar-based indie rock.
The Reality: You would think that, after three years of doing this feature, we would have gotten at least a little better at it. DD/MM/YY is a band from Toronto that does the noisy, post-everything, deconstructed punk-rock thing. Think Death Set and Crystal Castles. And maybe think about going to see them.
5. Ari Gold The Assumption: The latest in the crop of fuzzed-out, blood-pumping, lo-fi punk bands. With careening guitars, skittish drums and four-way harmonies that sail above the racket, Ari Gold radiates youth. Their self-released EP is riddled with pop culture references that pogo from serious to frivolous at lightning speed. In ‘Let’s Hug it Out, Bitch’ alone, lead singer/drummer Benji Wright namedrops Crystal Pepsi, 9/11 and Shamu. Soon, they’ll be hooking up with No Age and Abe Vigoda on an East Coast tour, and Todd P will be wiping the drool off his face.
The Reality: Oh. It appears that Ari Gold is not just a character on Entourage. He’s a real-life person too — a mega-talented Jack-of-all-trades who divides his time between playing ukulele in the Honey Brothers and making Sundance-approved movies. In a now predictable twist, the NYC-based musician/filmmaker’s first feature film (check out his MySpace; it looks hilarious) stars Adrian Grenier. No, seriously.
6. Home and Garden The Assumption: We’re going to go with our gut on this one. This group of Venice Beach roller-derby champions uses the mild-mannered Home and Garden moniker as a front for snot-nosed, riff-heavy punk. They really want to be the Donnas, but their crippling love for Blondie drives them to favor more new wave cheesiness than glam. And maybe, just maybe, they take things a step too far and dress in gingham dresses resembling 1950s housewives, but slutty Halloween costume style. So their shirts are unbuttoned about three too far, they crank their amps excessively loud and they have attitude in spades. It’s what we call “a shtick.”
The Reality: Not even close. They’re an avant-garde collective operating out of Cleveland for the past 20 years. Their song ‘From the Life of King John’ evokes the Talking Heads, which made us excited. But their more experimental tracks rely too much on weird sound effects to have kept us that way.
7. Arsonists Get All The Girls The Assumption: The members of this band make bitter, angry music. Ya see, they never quite got over that tweeny adolescent phase where they stuck their fingers in the flame of the match they used to fire up one of their non-filtered kill-your-lungs-dead-it’s-so-cool clove cigarettes. So tough! They really, really love frying ants under a magnifying glass. Sizzle! And they once thought the gaggle of young ladies watching them stop, drop and roll after unsuccessfully burning the hems off their JNKO jeans were immensely attracted. Like, “Oh man, these skirts cannot wait to rip their clothes off and have wild sex with us, illuminated by the glow of the secret fire we set inside our 8th grade teacher’s house.” Because how cool would it be if your hot girlfriend was an arsonist, too? But actually, those chicks were just thinking, “ZOMG, ew, those boys smell like burnt bugs.”
The Reality: MySpace genre descriptors are “Experimental,” “Death Metal” and “Hardcore,” and their “Add Us As A Friend” graphic is a dead fish of some kind. Shouty, unbearable vocals. And yet, they look so naive and goofy in their individual portraits. Plus they’re from California! Someone needs to give these guys an Andrew Bird CD and take away their lighters.
8. Cut Off Your Hands The Assumption: Another pissed-off bro-mance gang comprised mainly of attention-starved middle children who feel that self-mutilation is the best way to earn the respect and sympathy of others. Possibly a Talking Heads rip-off, assuming the lead singer heard that first Clap Your Hands Say Yeah record and figured a slightly more violent version would get the bloggers breathing heavily on the internets all over again. There is a strong chance they try to sell hand-made shivs — which they tell themselves are a terribly unique commentary on our twisted social mores — at their merch table.
The Reality: Holy what? Dudes, yes, but they’re a shockingly saccharine indie-pop group based in New Zealand, who pull off a rather adorable Squeeze homage. They even have a song called ‘Happy as Can Be’. We’re kind of in love.
9. Tiger! Shit! Tiger! Tiger! The Assumption: Thirty kids post-post ironically attempting to breach whatever gaps there might be left between The Go! Team, the Black Kids, Tilly and the Wall and Bang Camaro. Collectively thought it would be super-cute and edgy to have six back-up hip-hop dancers, a circus-worker, a flautist, some guy who rolls around on the stage in a quilt and screams barnyard epithets, a pretty indie-girl with perfectly styled hair who occasionally vomits into the audience, ten drummers and, you know, some people on guitars or whatever.
The Reality: Err. A rompy Italian punk-rock outfit made up of of a brother, a sister (she’s on drums, natch) and a family pal. They may be a mere trio, but having just released a debut album called Be Yr Own Shit, the trying-too-hard thing still stands, mmk?
ANSWERS:
A: Slang Chickens
B: Ari Gold
C: Girls Like Cigarettes
E: The Arsonists Get All The Girls
F: Home And Garden
G: DD/MM/YY
H: The Alright Ma’s
I: Cut Off Your Hands
J: Tiger! Shit! Tiger! Tiger!
