Lozen: Punchy, Sludge.

photo by Chris Fuller

Hozi (Hozoji Matheson-Margullis) and Juice (Justine Valdez), the ladies of Tacoma, prove that smart lyrics, pounding melodies and menacing rock are not mutually exclusive.

Lozen, as a band, has been around since 2005, but their friendship extends further back to those ever so foundational bonds of high school. Taking their name from the Chihenne Chiricahua Apache warrior, the duo melds an isolating vocal cacophony with some well-tested droning sludge. Straight up reinvigorated riot grrrl.

Somehow this all does them a disservice. They're more unique than reviewers give them credit, and their song writing is more innovative than the easily applied Melvins, Unwound comparisons suggest. As women artists go, we're still in the habit of trying to make them fit into some pre-established mold. Performative contradictions aside, sure the influences are there and nothing is created in a vacuum, but after almost eight years of playing together and evolving their sound, it's somewhat degrading to keep throwing out comparison after comparison, as if that somehow legitimates what they're doing.

Back to the vacuum: listen to Enemies Against Power (2007) followed by oona (2009) on their own merits. While I'm still partial to the rawness of EAP, the obvious progressions to oona evidence a subtle yet powerful evolution of a sound that generates its own aggression. Live, Lozen is a fucking blast. The intensity quickly builds as Hozi and Juice build off one another, smiling, scowling, flailing, screaming, laughing, slaying ....

An anti-establishment wrecking crew at its best. Intuition says wake the fuck up.

GAZE. LECHEROUS GAZE.

Man,  I don't get how these Oakland bands channel the seventies hard guitar rock into their punk so well. It's gotta be in the water or something. I saw the Lazy Dogs in Austin a year ago at Chaos in Tejas, and it was 100% Thin Lizzy/ZZ Top and James Gang worship, done so fucking incredibly well that you wondered what year you were in. It wasn't some ironic jokey homage to seventies excess or anything, it was just a shredding, power-rock buffet. Served up with total passion, energy and insanity. There was a pit. It was pretty bluesy. "Pot rock," or maybe "acid rock" wouldn't be a bad way to describe it. People went apeshit. I can't really describe it. Probably it's the fact that the Flag/Sabbath worship balances the blues stuff out, like a hearty red wine, cutting the richness of cheese. There are no jogging shoes, tucked in shirts, or Wilson Pickett covers either.


Lecherous Gaze is part of that California scene (Saviours, High On Fire, Howlin' Rain, Earthless, Drunk Horse...) that's been among the most generative in the country at this hard rock renaissance. They've put out a handful of records, toured Europe with Danava, and the coast with Red Fang in their pretty short band-life.


Ex-Annialation Time too. man. Prepare.

GUANTANAMO BAYWATCH >>>> SURF TERRORISTS

I’ll be the first to admit that I often jump to conclusions. Whether it’s your layered polo shirts, with popped collars *plural*, or your weird facial hair choices, I will judge you immediately. This isn’t to say that if you have a neck tattoo you can’t contribute to society, or that my presumptions are always accurate, but it’s just something that I do, and I’m not the only one.

Anyway, point is, when I first heard the band name “Guantanamo Baywatch” on the bill for the Burger Boogaloo in San Francisco earlier this year, I had high hopes. It takes quite a group of folks to pull off a name like that. And needless to say, as I sit here typing this, months later, I was not disappointed.

Guantanamo Baywatch rock.

Critics have cited surf greats like Dick Dale, but this isn’t your typical Socal fare. This PDX-based threesome don’t shy away from their roots in the Northwest, with darkness and recklessness, appealing to my pit-going sensibilities. This stuff isn’t just danceable, it’s freak-out inducing.

The prestigious tastemakers at Dirtnap Records released GB’s second LP last month, and they will be touring all over in support of it, including, of course, Total Fest XI.

You can stream the ENTIRE new record here. Enjoy, and don’t miss their set here in August!

White Walls

You may be sitting there asking yourself why you're looking at an impressively defaced back side of a TJ MAXX receipt instead of a picture of the band White Walls. That's because it's the most accurate visual representation of music I've ever seen in my life (found on their austere blog). Disregard the content of that bogus advice scribbled there, and instead consider the way the whole thing looks: crumpled paper, off kilter neon pink lettering, and some scrawled, bad advice. Imagine a band that sounds like that. Doesn't that seem like a pretty fucking sweet band?

Check the video out below. Can't see a goddamn thing? Me too. Who cares. Push play, open a new window, google-image-search the word "blank" and listen to this band break shit down. Consider--oh, um--emptiness or something real philosophically heavy and appreciate the cool-kid-destructo vibes that radiate off their music. I'm doing my best to resist that lame music-writer thing by comparing them to other bands (Pissed Jeans? Condominium?), so instead, I'll compare them to an experience: getting detention. You fucked up doing something that was probably awesome (throwing snowballs, telling your teacher to "eat your shorts") and thusly, are punished unjustly. Fortunately, this results in creating an ideal headspace to stew on new and exciting ways to tell everyone to "eat your shorts" via song. White Walls are the voice of your fun, inner-brat that the square world seeks to squeeze out of you. The nerve of those bozos.

Their music is an in the moment thing: visceral, immediate, unpredictable. White Walls encapsulates that glorious teenage mindset where getting in trouble is fun and every possibility of risk is answered with an ill-or-under-judged "YES." Bands too often forget that people love saying "yes," especially for the joyous occasion of when any random occurrence becomes an invitation to a new-rude-zone.

Second Fiddle to No One: Total Fest 2012, Round 2

By now, you're bubbling as much as we are. Things are really coming together, and the line-up grows more exciting by the day. We're working hard to solidify everything. If you're waiting to hear from us -- our apologies. We'll have everything set in stone over this week.

We're up to our second blast this week. Couldn't be happier. It's an impressive list that should have your rock-fist pumping in no time. As with the last one, we'll follow this up with more detailed descriptions, observations, delusions, analogies, etc. over the following days. Stay tuned.

There are some old friends in here, stirred around with a few homegrown miscreants, shaken and topped with exotic tastes from the east and midwest. It's a list that you can't afford to gloss over. A fair blend of the weird, loud, and fun ...

Ready.

Go.

Installment number 2 forTotal Fest 2012.

Abe Coley Missoula, MT

Bacon and Egg Missoula, MT

The Best Westerns Missoula, MT

Big Eyes Seattle, WA

Bugs Portland, Or

Criminal Code Olympia, WA

Dan Deacon Baltimore, MD

The Funeral & The Twilight Minneapolis, MN

Gay Witch Abortion Minneapolis, MN

Guantanamo Baywatch Oakland, CA

Iron Lung Seattle, WA

Lecherous Gaze Bay Area, CA

Lozen Tacoma, WA

Walls Seattle, WA

White Walls Cincinatti, OH

ROCK N ROLL ADVENTURE KIDS >>>> DGAF

I think it was Neil deGrasse Tyson who once said, “Eat me!” The astrophysicist certainly has a way with words, don’t he? Now imagine, if you will, the moment some early Belgian mason first spit [literally] on the grave of Elvis Presley. All this is to point out the absolute accuracy that sanitation workers maintain with the history of Haruki Murakami’s juvenile development.

Ok, ok. Listening to Rock N Roll Adventure Kids gives me little-to-no reason to believe that they would endorse any of these propositions. But these East Bay sonic murderers would probably be able to agree that the ridiculousness of the previous assertions finds some congruity with the flippancy and fun (alliteration, eh?) necessary to be a loud trash rock outfit in the bustling Bay Area scene.

RARAK (as they’re known by their followers) have been shredding your earholes for a good 5+ years now, but have been more prolific in their touring regimen then their release output. Which all seems pretty rational, given the fact that they are a band to be EXPERIENCED, FELT…and not on low volume. It’s no wonder they were the choice band to tour with Nobunny in 2009: this stuff verges on cartoony, in the best way possible.

Just watch this video:

 Then look at their cover art for 2009’s Hillbilly Psychosis:

What you need to know: Loud, fast garage rock with a Southern flair. A blast to see live. DGAF.

Simply put: Into it.

No-Fi Soul Rebellion. …is for dancers.

          It’s been said before. This band is dance-y, excitable and sweaty.  No-Fi Soul Rebellion returns for Total Fest XI.  You’ve had two years to recover from Total Fest IX when they filled the Badlander with more dancing bodies than the Dead Hipsters ever could.  Mark and Andrea are hard-core veterans of the all-ages/DIY stage and, a little disclaimer: they will probably leave you with some form of Post That-was-the-best-dance-party-ever Stress Disorder (PTSD). 

If you threw a rock in the direction of the Clark Fork River it is almost guaranteed to hit someone who has listened to or seen a No-Fi show.  In fact, you could throw a rock anywhere in the Northwest and hit someone who has seen Mark perform in his green jersey, black tie and converse.  Again, it is quite the performance.  His wife Andrea is an artist in her own right and performs with Mark “playing” a guitar outfitted with an iPod.  

But, if you have not seen them before, or in a while, I suggest you watch some videos and get pumped.  And if you Youtube like I do you will be asking yourself “How did I end up watching Wheatus’ “Teenage Dirtbag”?” 

*photo by Andrew Kemmis, Total Fest 2010.  Check out his other TF photos @ andrewkemmis.com DO IT!