Music Reviews by Glenn Ricci

September 25, 1995

Foo Fighters / Foo Fighters / Roswell, Inc.

There is so much right with this CD that it is difficult to tell what it is, in the end, that's wrong. David Grohl has emerged from behind Nirvana's drum set, and out of Cobain's shadow, as a fully-formed songwriter. The songs are fast, jangly, noisy and catchy. Borrowing amply from Beatlesque harmonies, the album sounds like a cacophanous revision of Rubber Soul. Except for the soul. Something is missing at the center. Grohl's screams sound sincere enough, but why he is screaming, and to what end, is unclear. The pain, angst and longing that exploded inside of Nirvana's songs are sadly missing. Listenting to Foo is like eating a bag of great tater chips that happen to be sodium free. Or worse, like trying to scratch a pesky itch with a rubber knife.

Axe of Free Will (and other victimless crimes) / A.T.S. / Shimmy Disc

A.T.S just may be the best band you have never heard... yet. With their second national release, and second collaboration with producer Kramer, the band is trying yet again to change all that--without compromising their style. Just what is their style? A.T.S.'s music has always been difficult to classify. They used to label themselves simply "post-industrial urban rock/cow funk fusion," but now it has gotten more complicated. Over the years, this legendary Pittsburgh power trio have accumulated a great many influences which continue to grow seamlessly out of their punkish roots.

What's for sure is that you can't just call them punk anymore. Sure, Evan Knauer (guitar, most lead vocals) still has a good solid scream when he needs it, but every note they play now exposes them as a band that knows too much to be punk. Drummer Kip Ruefle tries to keep things tight and tasteful, but too often he screws up and throws in a beautiful fill that only an experienced jazz drummer would be capable of. Likewise, bassist Mike Marcinko -- who could disparage both Flea and Jeff Ament with a mere flick of his wrist -- now sounds way too polished to be just a talented hack. Knauer's guitar is the only instrument that remains rough around the edges, even though he often dares to go for a fairly clean sound. By anyone's standards, A.T.S. is a tight operation. Throughout their latest release, Axe of Free Will (and other victimless crimes), it seems the hardest thing for them is sounding as if they didn't care about making each song perfect.

Helping to compensate for their abundant chops, A.T.S. has simplified things a bit on Axe. Instead of the jarring and convoluted compositions full of bizarre and unexpected chord changes from albums past, Axe shows A.T.S. stripping their songs down to only the most compelling elements. A couple chords, a few lyrics, a groove, a hook. They've pretty much eliminated the concept of the chorus altogether. And darn it if it doesn't work almost every time.

The twenty songs on Axe are consistent and varied enough to make a full and satisfying hour of listening. "Chop Shop," easily the band's most produced song to date, is an industrial slammer driven by a monstrous bass riff. "Gou-Pina" is a funky blues mutation with a quick breakdown in the middle. "It Always Left a Bruise" and the lovely "Shit for Brains" are catchy crooners and "Blanche" is a groovin' homage to the Streetcar Named Desire character. All of these songs are bound to get stuck in your head at one point or another. The lyrics run the gamut from minimal to urban epic to surreal to ironic to downright funny.

Half of the songs on Axe are old A.T.S. standards, and the rest were learned practically at the time of the recording. I dare you to try to figure out which are which. The band just plays the hell out of every song. That combined with the high replay value of this album make it yet Another True Story well worth hearing.

By the way, if you ever get the chance to see A.T.S. play live, don't dare pass it up. Even on an off night, they'll blow you away.

For more info on A.T.S., check out their web page. Drummer Kip Rufle (kip+@pitt.edu) promises to update it soon. The CD may be difficult to find, so you can email Kip to order a copy or to ask questions. A.T.S can also be reached through voicemail at 412-241-0704 (ask for Kevin or Kacey).

Red Medicine / Fugazi / Dischord

Fugazi may no longer be breaking any bold new ground for rock or punk, but with Red Medicine they demonstrate that they still can turn out a mean record. Just produced enough to sound mature without losing their edge, Fugazi spread their unique sonic dissonances over fifteen thrashy tracks. Their hauting, almost-melodic vocals are backed up by tense and tight arrangements.

On several tracks, the band even sounds remotely accessible. "Latest Disgrace," "Birthday Song," and "Target" sound somewhat radio-playable. But not to worry, true fans, because this is hardly a pop album and Fugazi is still far from selling out. Rough little clips from practice sessions (like the one that opened the album) are sprinkled through the album to remind us that Fugazi is still a garage band at heart. Overall, the album may take several plays to grow in you, especially for uninitiated listeners. A couple instrumentals drag on a little longer than they need to, but more often the band manages to keep their songs down to an action-packed three minutes.

The CD is also reasonably priced. Make sure you don't get taken by the larger record chains who think that all CDs should cost $16. You should have to pay no more than $10 for this one (I found one for $8). The decidedly non-capitalist Fugazi wouldn't have it any other way.

Check out this fan's Fugazi home page.

- Glenn Ricci