Artists

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Dead People (New Orleans, Louisiana)



"Hailing from New New Orleans, Dead People play rock and roll because like whatever man, what else would they be doing? They are total losers and pot heads and lsd droppers for real in a super-boring American’t culture. They were born on the bayou in the dusk of 2010 when Gnarlins’ garagers The Bellys and The Dives were séance-guided (goth gods kill us) to join forces and become one. After a week ...of, you know, really hard work, they played their first show, and it was probably pretty fun, because since then, they’ve managed to release two cassette-only EP’s and spend a month on the road in the eleven extensively touring the nooks and cave-crannies of the S.E. of the U.S. of A. They plan on taking their tunes to the rest of this world and the next one." - Peggy (The Gories)


Waylon Thornton and the Heavy Hands (Lake Butler, Florida)





Waylon and Meg create gangly blues driven rock ‘n’ roll that will make your knees shake and your toes go numb. The husband and wife duo live in Northern Florida with their son, run their own label, and pretty much put out a new album every month. Check out their bandcamp to hear the raw output of records they churned out this past year alone. Visit Psych Kicks to read an interview with the man himself.



PHORK (Los Angeles, California)




PHORK, or the People's Higher Order of Royal Kinship, is one of the musical monikers of LA via Baltimore man Neal Reinalda. Neal is one of those renaissance people you occasionally run into in public restrooms and recycling centers. He's one of the founders of Open Space in Baltimore, which is a fully functioning art-gallery/space, venue, library, auto-shop and petting zoo. When he's not hangin there, he's workin on material under one of his other aliases such as Daytime, Dr. Unk, or under his given name and putting out stuff over on Friends Records. Being a slight departure from his previous work, PHORK is a thumpin ride on the back of your dad's wet/dry vac while reading Thomas Wolfe and watching a Back to the Future marathon. On top of King of Diamonds, look out for another PHORK release on NNA Tapes in the near future.



Eureka California (Athens, Georgia)




Eureka California started sometime in 2009(?) in Raleigh, NC. Shortly after that, Jake Ward relocated to Athens, Ga, and the band featured a rotating cast of local talent, the latest incarnation featuring Jake and Marie A. Uhler. The band has released its debut album, Eureka California Is Dead (independently) and the Modern Times 7'' (HHBTM Records), with its full-length Big Cats Can Swim out late fall on HHBTM Records. Eureka California spends their time touring the country whenever possible, swimming at night and eating pizza. They like Regular Show and graphic novels and probably you.



Lame Drivers (Brooklyn, New York)




Been a band for 10 years still nobody knows what to make of Lame Drivers: “a young Replacements or Guided By Voices?“ “like the Buzzcocks getting a reacharound from the Descendents?” Pell Mell? Jesus & Mary Chain?" "the Clean as a girl group doing a talkie?" "Killed By Death/ Memb. Home Blitz?" WFMU's Terre T calls it "all my favorite rock elements." Led by fellow WFMU DJ Jason Sigel, Lame Drivers treat the band like a freeform radio show channeling everything from Ethiopiques to Krautrock through a classic power trio. "Teenline power pop is their natural fighting weight," KFJC's Thurston Hunger writes in a review that picks out bits of everything from Graham Parker to Jay Reatard, "but they'll weird it up!"


Pride of Lowell (New York, New York)




Patrick Breiner - Tenor Saxophone, Clarinet
Max Goldman - Drums

Patrick is a saxophonist, clarinetist, composer and educator. Max is a drummer and a teacher. They both graduated from The New School in New York in 2006. This is Pride of Lowell. Not the boxer. The furious two-headed sound machine. Saxophone and drums. Improvisations ranging from tender to maniacal. Experimental avant-garde free jazz.



Harsh Vibes (Philadelphia, Pennsylvania)





Philly’s Harsh Vibes swerve some rare line between kraut, space, and stoner rock, creating a sound that kicks in your gut while still ringing those hooks in your ears. They're music has been described as "fuzzed out shoegazey psychedelic noise rock" and "mutant garage-blues drone". The four tracks that comprise Dead Collective Soul range from full on spaced out jammers to slow guitar meditations and the transitions are conducted with a seamless effort that somehow works, and how.



Bad Vision (Melbourne, Australia)






Do you want to know a riddle? C’mon, everyone loves a riddle…. What has 18 strings, frenzied jungle-trash rhythms and an acerbic bellyacher who’s writhed his way out of the cutthroat jaws of Beelzebub himself? I won’t give the cinnamon away so soon…. No, feel free to stew in the paregoric juices of your minds eye while you strive to comprehend a beast so primitive and dazzling, dangerous and seductive, hackneyed, but still so impudently unprecedented that your pulse will sweat razorblades and your brow will beat the drum of your ego. What? Nothing... Guitar noise raw enough to make you cut your teeth and chew your beer. Drum vibrations that will rearrange your heartbeat backwards. Lascivious vocalizing that will make you wish your ears were between your legs. What? Everything… Give up? I did years ago. You won’t hear it on an indie-mag compilation. You won’t see it on pedestrian tv. You won’t feel it on your sweaty palms. You won’t even taste it for all the mercury. It will find you. It WILL find you. Is it garage? Whatever the fuck that means... Is it punk? Shutup. Is it surf? Don’t make me…. Is it pop? Enough, already. It’s enough for you to dance the hopscotch with your eyes shut; it’s enough for you to punch your best friend before making-out; it’s enough to writhe on the floor in your own emancipated birthday suit; it’s enough to shake off the workaday catatonic stupor with a self-effacing one-armed handstand, legs flailing like jellied antennae. It’s enough to leave the house and remember what it was like, and what it should be. So get your sequined assless chaps on, brush your hair back with a blowtorch, fellate your quiff for the umpteenth time, iron your bowtie white and get down to the goddamn pub. Seething is believing. Bad Vision will be seeing you. 




Baseball Cap (Baltimore, Maryland)







If the cap fits, wear it. If the sounds right, break it. If the moods good, kill it. Baseball Cap is the auditory presentation of the new surrealist mascot Christian Filardo. Filardo is originally from Tempe, AZ but now living in Baltimore, MD. He likes music and the occasional drive through ice water. He might be talented or he might be a hack, either way he is the mosquito in your ear and the fly on your wall. Auditory trickery for an optical society. His work "New Surrealism" is a breakthrough in persistence and disillusion. Feel the crisp auditory boink vibrate against your slouched spine. 





GEOFF (Austin, Texas)







Musician and artist Geoff is the mad, restless man behind Austin's Teflon Beast collective. His music writings have appeared in Cassette Gods and International Tapes. Geoff's previous album's, recorded under the name Gary Busdriver, include Sports!Scraps!, and Guitars! Chiefly a guitarist, he's carved out a language of "Electric primitivism" on Liberated Atheist, in which Geoff uses fx pedals and technology as acoustic players use country blues in "American primitivism." Liberated Atheist is a two-part free improvisation performed alongside the track's co-producer Chris Daily in a one take approach where feel and volume are matched with electronic manipulation, done on the fly.