Apparently they’re a garage band from Mexico, who Omar Rodriguez Lopez (who plays bass on this LP) reckons are “the sex”.
Apparently they’re a garage band from Mexico, who Omar Rodriguez Lopez (who plays bass on this LP) reckons are “the sex”.
How could you not want to play a record with this title? Beyond me if you don’t. The driving force behind Sin Sin Sin is one Teri Gender Bender, a Mexican girl who stares wildly out at us from the inner sleeve, alongside cut out pics of Marx and Ginny Wolf. Apparently they’re a garage band from Mexico, who Omar Rodriguez Lopez (who plays bass on this LP) reckons are “the sex”. This should give you some indication of what is in store. Now, this isn’t a subtle record; it’s brazen and glitzy in a thrift-store manner. Lots of tracks hinge on shuddering riffs (of the most basic, first gear variety) or yelped choruses that find their roots in primary school play grounds.
The record is split roughly into two kinds of songs, quirky, slightly whimsical slowies, which do their utmost to shake off the “Garage” tag, such as The Actress That Ate Rousseau, or brilliant shards of shiny two car garage noise that rely on the most troglodyte riffs imaginable, such as I’m Getting Sick of You and Bang!. Someone’s found Reg Presley’s songbook… But what’s most noticeable is a sense of an uncontrollable attitude and anger inherent in the songs themselves, they might not be the most original tracks or the lyrics and statements not the most well put, but I’m not that arsed frankly; it’s a glossy, shiny and confident work and very infectious indeed.
Tracks that can switch from maudlin reflection to anger and then to a schoolyard pop take some doing I can tell you: listen to The Leibniz Language which is a quirky, cheeky jumble of emotions and proclamations. Now and again there’s something that can grate (the last track, Mr. Tolstoi is okay but why does every song about Russia have to have that bloody polka rhythm? Why?) but hey, this is a great record.