COI005: When you examined the wreck, what did you see?
Glass everywhere and wheels still spinning free
A lot of new music comes out every Friday. Allow me to separate the wheat from the chaff for you.
Frank Iero And The Future Violents - Barriers (UNFD)
So here’s the thing about Frank Iero: He’d probably be the first to tell you that he’s not the best musician in the world. The former guitarist of My Chemical Romance wasn’t the flashy player (that was Ray Toro) or the visionary with the golden pipes (that would be Gerard Way). But he brought chaos to My Chem, and his mischievous presence was crucial to that band’s astonishing level of success for so many years.
Ever since MCR broke up in 2013, Iero has been on a long, winding path of artistic exploration, from strange anti-folk (frnkiero and the cellabration’s Stomachaches) to cathartic noise-rock (Frank Iero And The Patience’s Parachutes). The remaining members of the MCRmy (of which I am not, but do I consider myself a slightly-more-than-casual observer given the fact that Iero’s day job directly helped pay my mortgage for a decade) have continued to follow him as if he were a cult leader, primarily because he’s the only former member of MCR seemingly capable of releasing music and touring on a relatively consistent basis.
His music will likely never be judged on its own merits, neither by critics who remember him for his contributions to mall-punk, nor by fans who exclusively listen to My Chemical Romance and its members’ attendant side projects and have no frame of reference for any music not played or shared by a member of the band. (Like, seriously, who in their right mind enjoyed Electric Century?) The guy could write the White Album or the Black Album or the Blue Album and it wouldn’t make a dent with the mainstream.
That’s a shame, because his new album, Barriers, under the moniker Frank Iero And The Future Violents, is promising, both based on its lineup — the rhythm section consists of former Murder By Death bassist Matt Armstrong and Thursday drummer Tucker Rule, so you might as well just call this band “Eyeball Records ca. 2002” — as well as its lead single, “Young And Doomed,” which sounds kinda like, I dunno, Joyce Manor covering Murder City Devils (which actually exists already, but I digress). There’s even an actual LOL moment in the lyrics, when Iero sings, “I promise I’m not okay” before muttering, “Oh, wait, that’s the other guy.” Self-awareness, thy name is Frank.
Further proof of Iero’s cult impact: As I write this blurb at 10:46 p.m. on May 30, only one of Barriers’ 14 tracks has been released, and that was more than two months ago. When was the last time any record (that wasn’t getting a surprise release, at least) had a rollout as secretive as this? It might be good, it might be bad, but it’s bound to be interesting, which is enough to make me give it a spin come May 31.
J. Robbins - Un-Becoming (Dischord)
Despite having been making vital music for nearly 40 years(!), Un-becoming is the first album J. Robbins has released using his own name. If you’re somehow unfamiliar with the man, check your record collection — if you don’t own anything by Jawbox, Burning Airlines, Channels or Office Of Future Plans, it’s time to question what you’ve been doing with your life. For the diehards, some of Un-becoming’s songs have likely been in your MP3 library for a few years (“Anodyne,” “Abandoned Mansions” and “Our Own Devices” were all released digitally through Robbins’ Bandcamp page a few years back), but if you’re new to the man, this record is as good an overview as you’ll get. The songs bounce from poppy hooks to discordant guitarwork, feeling like the best moments of all of his previous bands. Robbins’ voice is still as biting as ever, alternating from a sweet tenor to an aggressive bark. Somehow, his vocal range continues to get even higher, as you can hear on the album’s title track. Bonus: Cellist Gordon Withers, a huge highlight of Robbins’ previous band Office Of Future Plans, is also on this record, giving new texture to Robbins’ patented musical angularity.
Kitty Kat Fan Club - Dreamy Little You (Asian Man)
Formed in 2016, San Jose, California, septet Kitty Kat Fan Club is probably best known for having Mike Park in the band. However, Park — a consistent presence in the punk underground for the better part of the past three decades who almost single-handedly has kept ska’s checkered flag flying, both through his own bands (Skankin’ Pickle and the Bruce Lee Band among them) as well as dozens of releases on his independent label Asian Man Records — is not a primary songwriter in KKFC, unlike his other current active band, Ogikubo Station (who themselves are releasing a new EP, Okinawan Love Songs, in a few weeks). Instead, KKFC is primarily driven by a pair of women, Brianda Goyos and Catherine Jones, who sweetly harmonize with one another as their bandmates crank out two-minute bursts of new wave-inflected indie-pop that keeps a few toes in punk’s waters. (Also, there’s a saxophone on a few tracks, because with Mike Park, there’s always a saxophone on a few tracks.)
Dreamy Little You is KKFC’s debut full-length following a pair of well-received 7-inches, and if you like the idea of Dance Hall Crashers without all those pesky upstrokes getting in the way, then this is right up your alley. (Just to clarify, I do not hate ska, despite what Twitter says.)
Today’s subject line is a lyric from the song “Motorist” by J. Robbins’ old band Jawbox, who just played their first show in more than 20 years earlier this week. I bought tickets for their Chicago reunion show on July 28, and holy hell am I excited for it. Listen to the song below, and if you dig it, you can buy the record it’s from on Amazon (and by clicking that link, there’s a chance I may make a few cents):
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