On to the inspired Hospital Bombers (well they must be with a name like that) and their brilliant Kittens. Of course, it’s bonkers.
On to the inspired Hospital Bombers (well they must be with a name like that) and their brilliant Kittens. Of course, it’s bonkers.
Great title, eh?
It starts beautifully too, with a meditative piece, 39, by Leiden’s Tenuzu No Chiizu, boasting a very reflective Harold Budd. This reflective mood hardly has time to seep into your brain before the thumping cascade of drums and slightly bonkers preacherboy-gone-awry vocals of ET Explore Me’s Little Black Bull comes crashing through your speakers. And two minutes later, that’s replaced by the marvellous Spider Rico’s I Don’t, a fabulous slab of hollerin’ wailin’ rockn’roll. Talk about up and running…
Woost are up next with a pleasantly melodic, if somewhat guitar-heavy track entitled Disappear. It’s reminiscent of a very, very meditative Bob Mould. And I like it lots. The Skidmarks turn up next with some hot farfisa action entitled ‘Till the Last One’s Gone, an enjoyable romp if ever there was one. Ro-robot go all Joy-Div on us for a few minutes. Push Me Along is a stentorian blast of rather military drumming and nasal vocals which I can’t help but like. It sounds like a lot of things, none of which I find annoying. 3-1 ‘s TV Chicks starts as if off a Suicide LP. It’s gloriously messy and strident. The words TV Chicks is oft-repeated over a fuzzy beat, which is grand too. And is that a dog barking sample? I hope so.
Jimmy Barock’s Tonite We Load Up the Guns is great too, albeit in a very Robert Smith sounding kinda way. I like the sparse, unhinged sound the band have, all strummy guitars and sudden breaks of mood.
The Ik Jan Cremers’ Eeny Meany Miny Mo is a choppy, changing affair, guitars battle things out before settling down to a Pulp-like strumming strut. It’s all very angular and moody stuff. There’s some intense screaming too. Sweet Assembler’s Belong On Planet Export is a lot mellower (though no less intense, I’d wager). It opens up to be quite a melodic, if doomy, meditation. Alamo Race Track remind us of what a good band they are with We Like To Go On. Great harmonies add a warmth to the spiky, choppy track that is underneath. Great band. The Heights assail us next with the wonderfully titled Adolescent Angst. This turns out to be quite a sedate, rather lustrous affair, albeit graced with some lovely vocals from the (is she?) American lady who does the mic duties. There’s some twang in that larynx, I can tell you.
On to the inspired Hospital Bombers (well they must be with a name like that) and their brilliant Kittens. Of course, it’s bonkers. A beat last heard on a Pinky & Perky record soon sets a gaudy pattern, and very intense vocals conclude what must be all of ninety seconds’ worth of music. Ottoboy’s I Used to Be your Garbageman is quality swamp rock that would grace many a garage record. Oddly enough, it reminds me off Daniel Johnson. A Red Season Shade’s Rising On The Bright and Serene Fields is a lovely, lazy, instrumental with very elegaic guitar patterns gracing it. I really like this track.
Meanwhiles are up next with In Between, boasting an ambient beginning very reminiscent of the stuff Eno & Budd used to do, which, in turn blossoms into a low key, very haunting 4AD style lament. Marvellous. More of this please! Finally, Malle Pietje & De Bimbo’s give us Wo-Ho, and yes, you guessed it, with a title like that it wasn’t going to be a paeon to Bruckner. Still, it’s an enoyable, thrashy ending to a fabbo compilation. Not Everybody’s Compilation indeed, what a misnomer. Get it, it’ll keep you off the streets.
Words: Richard Foster.