Ugly Kid Joe -- America's Least Wanted
When he's not squishing hot dogs through his teeth for photo shoots or thinking up imaginative album titles, Whitfield Crane of Ugly Kid Joe writes lyrics like "Well I drink, and I stink, I smoke, yeah I'm a joke/I try all night and day to get a piece of action, a-haa!"
Ugly Kid Joe reminds me of a bunch of 15-year-old boys, who have just discovered Mad Dog and cigars, who sit around in Nike Airs reading Playboys and farting.
Now that they've worked so hard to put out a full-length album after the inspiring As Ugly As They Wanna Be, they can revel in the teen dream they've created: sitting around in Nike Airs reading Playboy . . . but getting paid for it!
OK, maybe I'm being a bit harsh, but the punk rebel thing on UKJ's new album, America's Least Wanted, is out of hand.
"There's one way out if you dare/We'll make a deal, you'll grow your hair/As Satan's child you'll start a band/And spread the word across the land," Crane screams over a mess of Metallica-esque guitars.
UKJ makes it clear that they strive to be the hoodlum next door who plays his stereo too loud, the boyfriend in every parent's nightmares and the prankster that the local police just can't seem to catch.
I think they're just MTV wannabe's.
In "Mr. Recordman," they announce: "To sell a lotta records 'n' tour round the world/Make a lotta money 'n' meet lotsa girls/Have a lot of fun and hang with my bro's/'Cause these boys 'n' this band is all I know."
And unfortunately, in this twisted, corporate rock world in which we live, bands like UKJ will do just that.
-- by Sally Kuzemchak
Polvo -- cor-crane secret
I'm sick of reading about indie guitar bands.
All those Sonic Youth/R.E.M. wannabes like Afghan Wigs, Toad The Wet Sprocket and Teenage Fanclub generate hype from middle-aged rock critics, who urge all to go out and purchase these bands. Groups that have little to say between their long dyed bangs.
These alternative sleeping pills, and the media that write obediently about them, seem to think distortion (or jangly guitars for that matter) is something new, something original. Very few stray from this bland gene pool, bands like Superchunk, Pavement and Beat Happening deviate enough to save our beloved genre.
With its latest release, cor-crane secret, North Carolina's Polvo breaks into that elite group. From the start you know it's not just another indie band with angst and grunge and any other cliché --they're better than any platitude Spin magazine could muster.
Despite the genre's glut, Polvo manages something original. Resurrecting the instrumental as a musical form, "kalgon" sets an eerie tone that filters throughout the album.
The mood will make you nervous, as if you heard something really unique and you were not so sure you should like it. "Kalgon" bleeds into "bend or break," a splintering, melodic tune that unites the distorted wash of Dinosaur Jr. with competing jazzy hooks.
The record is worth the effort it took in finding it.
