Posts Tagged ‘Text Me Records’

 Raw, unrelenting, and careening out of the Bay Area of California is Coke. A quartet who craft angry and raw slabs of post-hardcore that chunk and chew with angular riffs and acerbic vocals. Plus, they have a song called ‘Ray Liotta’. Everyone loves Ray Liotta. Right? They also have a song called ‘Da Da’. Which is also the name of a red wine that I really love. I don’t think that Coke drink red wine. I think they bathe in the blood of their enemies and drink from their hollowed out skulls. Maybe. ( OVERBLOWN )

Raw, unrelenting, and careening out of the Bay Area of California is Coke. A quartet who craft angry and raw slabs of post-hardcore that chunk and chew with angular riffs and acerbic vocals. Plus, they have a song called ‘Ray Liotta’.I mean everyone loves Ray Liotta. Right? for sure.

They also have a song called ‘Da Da’. Which is also the name of a red wine that I really love. I don’t think that Coke drink red wine. I think they bathe in the blood of their enemies and drink from their hollowed out skulls. Maybe.

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Flat Worms which features former members of Dream Boys, Sic Alps and Thee Oh Sees hit the ground running on this pummelingly great record. Lead off song “Motorbike” sets the scene of this menacing record. They’re sound like a biker gang that digs Suicide, but thinks synths are for poseurs. One of the best albums of the year. Raging but with style, panache and tunes. This debut album of LA post-punk band featuring Will Ivy (Dream Boys, Wet Illustrated, Bridez), Justin Sullivan (Kevin Morby, The Babies) and Tim Hellman (Thee Oh Sees, Ty Segall, Sic Alps). Flat Worms belt-sanded everyone with their 7-inch on Volar, and Castle Face is proud as new papas to present their debut album. The band continues their ride on a buzz-saw wave of feedback-tipped riffs into the middle distance, the smog-choked sunset receding in the rearview, with a thousand-yard dead pan stare surgically pinned to a high octane set of boredom-energized punk pistons.

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This is an ear-ringing missive from the end of the cul-de-sac, a mirage wavering above a mid-sized American suburb at dusk, with the constellations bleached black by the sprawl. A little Wipers, a little Wire, and a lot of late-capitalist era anxious energy—Flat Worms scratch the itch quite nicely. Fans of classic SST / Homestead /Touch And Go Records will find much to love here.