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Download: Clorox Girls “This Dimension”

(from This Dimension on Smart Guy)

Justin Maurer has been the leader of Clorox Girls for about a decade, has narrowly escaped organ theft in Turkey on at least one occasion, and has a book of fiction coming out this spring. Dan Collins and Daniel Clodfelter catch up with him in Long Beach at the Pike—the bar on 4th Street, NOT the lame outdoor tourist mall also called the Pike, which the Dans found out after much confusion spent stumbling through an Islands restaurant across from P.F. Chang’s. This month the Clorox Girls will play their first L.A. show in two years.

You almost went to prison once for exposing yourself to a minor.
Justin Maurer (guitar/vocals): It was in Redmond, Washington, kind of the conservative area of Seattle. They called the police, they came, and when they came out and told me to stop, I put one of those orange roadside cones in front of me! They tried to charge me with a felony for exposing myself to a minor 14 years old or younger, and it was just being naked for playing a show. I didn’t know there was a 14-year-old girl in the audience! It was her mom who pressed charges. I had to go to court. My public defender was pregnant and didn’t come to maybe 75 percent of my trials. It took over a year. They reduced the charge to a gross misdemeanor. I ended up having to pay shitloads of money and do community service.
That sounds Clorox-esque—musically, you tend to balance between serious danger and lighthearted fun. Are you guys more like a Dario Argento film where a shark fights a zombie? Or are you more like a kitten sunning himself on a windowsill?
Justin Maurer: I think it’s more like The Warriors. We’ve been trying to get back to Coney Island for almost ten years now, and we still haven’t made it back.
You did a zombie music video a couple years ago. Who directed that?
Justin Maurer: Brady Hall, the Jerkbeast guy. He did another movie called Butt Cutter, which starred two of the guys from Holy Ghost Revival, who we’re really good friends with. And we loved Jerkbeast so much that we asked him to do a video. And he did.
You guys have covered Holy Ghost Revival and you’ve toured with them. You seem to be kindred spirits.
Justin Maurer: We grew up together—Conor, the singer. At a time when the jocks at my high school were just into Dre and Eminem, Conor was the kind of guy wearing lipstick to high school and listening to Alice Cooper. I always thought Conor was one of the most amazing songwriters of all time. They did that song ‘Flowers of Evil,’ but it was kind of a lo-fi recording. They kind of never did it justice. And you know how bands hate it when the crowd requests the same song over and over? They stopped playing it. And finally I asked Conor if we could cover it, and he came down and played piano on half the album and sang backing vocals. I feel so honored to have had anything to do with them period, because they’re one of the greatest bands of all time.
You moved to London to manage Holy Ghost Revival and just came back from being in England for two years. How do you keep a band like the Clorox Girls together while living abroad?
Justin Maurer: Well, it was in definite hiatus for a while. I found out I was going to be here for a while, and we decided to play a couple shows. Richie’s on drums and Daniel moved to London, but couldn’t come back because of his credit card bills, so Tommy from the Rough Kids is playing bass.
While there, you joined a band with Chris Brief called Suspect Parts. What was it like playing shows with that band in England and Europe?
Justin Maurer: It was good! In mainland Europe, folks literally give you the shirts off their backs. You go and play and they give you dinner, as much beer as you can drink all night, a place to stay, breakfast, and it’s just assumed. I was living in Spain and Chris was in Germany, and during the Briefs’ last tour Chris came up to me and said, ‘We should be in a band.’ And we did a couple tours and a couple 7”, but it was difficult because Chris was in Berlin, I was in London. We’d wait three months and tour for a week, and wait three months and tour for a week. I really missed tour! I had withdrawal. And in England right now, the music scene is so dire and depressing and disappointing. It’s all about haircuts and not about the music. It’s all laptops and drum machines—things that could be alright if people were innovative! But if you think about it, the Libertines were the last exciting thing to happen over there. The kids aren’t starting garage bands. I’m so stoked to be spending some time in America.
When you were a kid, you used to light fireworks out of your butt! Do you wish you had a ghostly proctologist friend to help soothe your wounds?
Justin Maurer: Every once in a while. I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced being on tour where you end up just shitting blood—it happened to me so many times. I had to call the doctor in Sweden one time and this guy had to translate. You know, ‘What is the problem?’ And I literally had to say, ‘Shitting blood.’ ‘What color is it?’ ‘Bright red.’ ‘Oh, that’s okay. If it was dark brown, you’d have internal bleeding. But since it’s bright red, you just need to eat more vegetables and fiber.’
Good medical advice for our readers! You’ve also been deliberately poisoned once.
Justin Maurer: I was drugged in Istanbul. There was this barbeque where they’d make these sandwiches for 50 cents, and I was hanging out there and everybody was all, ‘My friend! Where you from, my friend?’ And I’d be like, ‘America.’ And this guy goes, ‘Sacramento Kings! We have a Turkish player. NBA! NBA! Where are you from?’ And I said Seattle, and he goes, ‘Seattle Supersonics! Sacramento Kings! If you ever need a cheap flight, talk to me! I’m the Kings!’ So we were looking for a flight from Istanbul to Rome, and we couldn’t find a cheap flight. So we ran into this guy, and he took us into a rug shop where this guy was talking about how Romanian hookers in Turkey were so much cheaper than the prostitutes in Las Vegas. And he was smoking hash really openly, and in Turkey you can go to jail for life for even having a joint on you. And so he must have been dodgy in some way. So we had some cups of tea in these big glasses and after about the second glass, I started getting really woozy. And I washed my face off with water and realized it was the date rape drug, and that he’d spiked our drinks. And we managed to get out of there, but I was passed out for about fourteen hours straight. I shit myself. I puked. And I don’t know what he wanted—if he was going to steal my liver or passport, or kidnap me, or whatever.
Were you on tour?
Justin Maurer: No, me and a friend decided to go to Istanbul. It was great! You just have to watch yourself. The craziest thing I saw in Istanbul was an ad in Cosmo magazine of this really busty American woman. And this little boy had a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shirt on and one of those laser guns—‘Bew bew bew bew!’—holding hands with this fully veiled mom in front of this Cosmo ad. And it was really the clash of civilization. You saw it happen right in front of your face. And you—you’re the walking Cosmo magazine! You’re just a tall, white, imperialist, blonde-hair … ‘Who the fuck are you to come here and tell us how to live?’
Which Ninja Turtle is the most offensive to Islamic culture?
Justin Maurer: Probably Michelangelo, just because …
Because they associate him with the Vatican’s ceiling? If the Ninja Turtles are Catholic, what’s the Islamic equivalent of Shredder?
Justin Maurer: The Supreme Ruler of Iran. He’s the equivalent of the Pope, I think. The new leader of Hamas can be Splinter. You can pretend I know his name.
If you’re imperialist Americans, why did you name your 2007 album J’aime Les Filles?
Justin Maurer: Honestly, it was kind of a reactionary thing. We were doing a record on BYO, who were known for being kind of tattoo/skater/macho punk rock. And we were like, ‘Let’s do a French POP ALBUM!’ And we were really into Jacques Dutronc, and we did a cover of this French pop singer Lio—‘Les Banana Split.’ And we were listening to a lot of Starshooter and old French punk. At the time, Richie came to Portland, and we were sleeping on the bassist Daniel’s girlfriend’s apartment’s floor, and the only thing that would cheer us up was listening to French pop. At the time I was so depressed and had such a chip on my shoulder, and listening to Les Calamités was the only thing that would cheer me up. And we were about to do a record on BYO, and I felt like we had to be macho, and I thought we should go the other way and do what we do best, but slightly gay. And we did, and the album did sound pretty gay—in good and bad ways!
That record was produced by Pat Kearns, who also did the Exploding Hearts. It was a little more polished than your old stuff. Where do you see your next album going?
Justin Maurer: It’s going back to old L.A. punk, to the Crowd and the Gears. And to Fullerton—Adolescents, Angry Samoans, early Social Distortion. I dunno—I wanted to do a pop album, but now I want to do a punk album, really bad!
Speaking of old L.A. punk, don’t you and Don Bolles from the Germs go back?
Justin Maurer: He had a crush on our first bass player, Jeanique. And at the time she was about 19. We were playing with the Stitches at Juvee, and it was one of our first shows ever in Los Angeles. And it was such a great show. We met Janet Housden from Redd Kross—she interviewed the band who was wielding the chain and the dog masks in your last issue—and we were stoked! And Don Bolles comes up and asks, ‘What’s up with the “Clorox Fox?”’ And Jeanique was my girlfriend at the time—not to mention she was 19! And he was playing in that goth band where the guy hung himself …
Dethbred!
Justin Maurer: He was hanging out with a bunch of really big-boobed 15-year-old goth girls wearing corsets and the goth boots. And he was like, ‘I came to watch your band. Come and watch my band.’ And we walked across the street to the Garage, and the singer was so strung out. They set up all these stacked Marshall amps, about a thousand pedals, and it was about 40 minutes of him trying to get it to work and Don Bolles shrugging his shoulders. And we told him we wanted to hang out the next morning and have champagne breakfast with him, but we were just kind of kidding. But he called us the next morning and asked if we were coming, and we said no, we had to go to a show in San Francisco. And he gets all silent for a second and goes, ‘I live near Dodger Stadium. There’s no food around here at all. I thought you guys were going to come here.’ And I sincerely felt bad! And the drummer and I wanted to go over—we thought maybe we could find some Germs 45s that we could have or something—but Jeanique was so creeped out that we just ended up going to San Francisco and leaving Don Bolles at his apartment near Dodger Stadium without any champagne, nor breakfast—ha ha! But I have a Germs tattoo, and I was too embarrassed to show him.
Why do all the Clorox Girls have an ‘M’ tattoo on their wrists?
Justin Maurer: It’s kind of tongue-in-cheek, but I was in a political science class and the key to success is the triple Ms: money plus media equals momentum! It’s the key to success for any American political campaign. So in a band, it’s the same, and I was really into it. ‘Look, you have the money, right?!? You fucking tour your ass off, you put out a record. And then you have the media. You get a couple interviews’—like hey, right now—‘and then after they print the interview, then you get momentum! And that makes you more money, and then you get more media and get more momentum!’ But we didn’t have any money in our equation. We only had double Ms—we never had triple Ms. If we had any money for a second, we just made the wrong decisions. But now I’m older and wiser, and Clorox Girls are back, and we’re going to DO it. Triple Ms!
Your next thing is coming out on Burger Records—a cassette release of old Clorox Girls demos.
Justin Maurer: Yep! It’s the first couple of 7” and then a bunch of weird demos. They’re actually mastering it, so hopefully it’ll sound alright. It’s kind of a craze, the cassette thing, isn’t it?
Ever since Bad Brains.
Justin Maurer: I’m really stoked. The guys are really nice guys. I haven’t been to Fullerton yet, the home of Fender and Agent Orange, Social Distortion and Burger Records! But I have to go down there.
We just found out that Thee Makeout Party! broke up! How can we bribe them to stay together?
Justin Maurer: Work in some oral sex? I dunno! L.A. RECORD should sponsor a Makeout Party trip to Disneyland.
Maybe we could give them hand jobs while wearing the Mickey gloves?
Justin Maurer: Just put them on the Small World ride over and over until they agree to keep playing!

THE CLOROX GIRLS WITH THE RED ONIONS, GESTAPO KHAZI, THE IMPEDIMENTS AND WOAH HUNX ON SAT., FEB. 13, AT THE 5 STAR BAR, 267 S. MAIN ST., DOWNTOWN. 8 PM / $12 / 21+. VISIT CLOROX GIRLS AT CLOROXGIRLS.COM OR MYSPACE.COM/CLOROXGIRLS.

Download: Os Mutantes “Anagrama”

(from Haih out Sept. 8 on Anti-)

Os Mutantes decided everything was possible and tried to prove it across a set of albums that were national classics at home in Brazil but which never even made it to the States until a foreign exchange student accidentally left her copies with the boys in Redd Kross. Low End Theory resident and Blank Blue guitarist Nobody (Elvin Estela) speaks with Mutantes co-founder Sérgio Baptista about helicopters, honesty and the brand-new Mutantes album Haih.

What I love about your new record is that it doesn’t sound like you guys are trying to recreate your old sound—it just sounds like you picked up where you left off.
Sérgio Baptista (guitar/vocals): That’s definitely what I was really wanting to do and I was very happy that I could do it in terms of being able to be faithful and honest to our legacy and not looking back in any way—no way. We are in the 21st century and we are different people now and it’s very important for us to be honest and play what we feel. I think we were very blessed in being able to do something I consider is honorable to our legacy.
That’s an incredible approach to recording, especially for a band that hasn’t put out anything in a while. This is a perfect addition to your discography—it doesn’t stand out as ‘the modern record.’ It’s definitely just a timeless record.
If you don’t put yourself in danger of being spit upon, then you are not really alive. Then it’s just going to be a mock. And we owe so much to the people and the kids and everybody that we have to at least open up our hearts and souls the best way that we can to be naked in front of them and let them look at us. Now we are different—we are fatter, we are older—but that’s who we are. That’s how Mutantes would sound now and I think with all the flaws and wisdoms that came with age—I think that’s the most important thing that you have to do as a producer or artist is basically to just assume all of it and be ready to expose yourself. That’s basically what an artist has to do.
Put their balls on the line.
For sure. That’s what we always did and it’s what we’re doing.
What’s the point of art if there’s no risk involved?
Exactly—it would be sad. I think it would be like spitting in the place where we eat. We are able to see how important these people are and how much we owe them. What we can do is be as completely honest as we could and put our hearts the way they are.
You talk about being a lot older but your voice hasn’t aged a bit—what’s your secret to eternal youth and voice?
I’m not older; I’m younger for a longer time. You cannot lose your child inside. If you let your child die then you are in trouble.
I wanted to ask about this urban myth about your guitars—you had a fuzz guitar with each individual string going to its own fuzz pedal?
Yes. All the electronics are inside of it.
Each string had its own processor?
Yes. When I was with my brother and Rita only, all the job of texture and solos came down to myself. I had to fill in all the sounds and I had a need for sound. We lacked harmonies and I wanted to be able to play chords with fuzz, but if you play a chord with just one fuzz you have intermodulation and you have a bad sound and you cannot get the chord clean. So I spoke to my brother who was building the stuff, and he said the only way I can do this is to do one pickup per string and then through a fuzz individually and mix all of them together and I said, ‘OK, let’s do it.’ So we did it and it sounded great.
I saw Mutantes in L.A. in July 2007 and my favorite part of the show was when you were pretending there was a helicopter above the audience with the guitar.
All improvisation. It was basically the sewing machine pedal that I used on ‘Bat Macumba’ but in a different manner. It normally was mechanical but then we made it possible to use digitally. It was impossible to use that thing more than five minutes because it was connected to the engine of the sewing machine.
It was actually running through a real sewing machine?
Oh yeah. The guitar was coming in and out of it. With the axis of the engine and how you could vary the speed, he would cut open the sound of the guitar extremely fast and this would create several different harmonics and things that make that crazy sound. It was something that was not practical, so now in the digital era we were able to produce this in a way that it is possible to play with it. So I’m using a lot of it in the record.
Did you ever think of manufacturing and making it widely available to the world?
Yes, definitely. The name is Green Devil. Because the sewing machine was green.
I would definitely use a Green Devil pedal if you ever put one out.
I’ll do my best—definitely. So you think I should go for a helicopter again?
You haven’t done it since that show?
No. Ok—I’ll do it again.
I thought it was hilarious. I kept looking back, I was like, ‘Man, this is the greatest showmanship right there.’ You should have been the guy making guitars for kids in the ‘60s—we’d have a lot cooler stuff like sewing machine effects pedals.
Yeah—twenty years before Ovation we were using a piezo on the bridge. If you hear any of those songs like ‘Dia 36,’ that crazy sound of guitar that sounds a bit like an acoustic—it is a piezo electric.
‘Dia 36’ is one of my favorite songs by you guys.
I think it was one of my best lyrics. It was from an American guy who came here and I made the lyrics.
Who was the American guy?
It was John something—God, I don’t remember. He was a crazy guy—like albino, like the brothers Edgar and Johnny Winter.
And he was the original writer of the song?
He was—when we played, he just entered the stage and he was totally out of his mind and he was screaming and it was great. It was really amazing. I think he wrote the song on a dulcimer and I really loved his song. I got it and I wrote the lyrics for it and it was great.
To me you guys are one of the premier psychedelic bands that ever existed—I really think that it’s amazing that thousands of people today can relate to a psychedelic band from back then. What do you think that says about psychedelic music from that era? In history, it might be seen as a flash in the pan because it was only five years of music. But so much came out.
It’s amazing for us because we didn’t know that we were psychedelic or anything like that. There was no psychedelia at the time, at least not in Brazil. The first album came out in ’68 and there was no drugs involved in any of the albums.
So to you guys, you weren’t making psychedelic rock—you were just making whatever you wanted to make?
Yes. It is amazing that it fell on the slot. The way that we used to gather information was like a kaleidoscope in pieces and then from the flower power, we just got the flower not the power. We didn’t even care about the power—we just loved the flower. You know the girls and the free love and all the beauty and the colors and the music—we didn’t realize it was Vietnam behind it.
In America it was definitely about the protest, but for English bands it was more about the girls and the flowers. What bands from across the world were influencing you guys down in Brazil?
Everybody. Sly and the Family Stone for sure. Beach Boys, Mary Ford and Les Paul, Jimmy Smith, all the operas. We had a huge and very big spectrum of music which we drank from. Like Sarita Montiel from Spain and all the mariachis from Mexico. We were into everything—all the cats, Barney Kessel, the Ventures, the Shadows, all of them.
And it all combined to create what you wanted?
Oh yeah—take my solos. They were very Ventures-oriented at the beginning. I think the great thing about it is that all the record companies and all those people were into the music. The money came much later. Nobody was worried about being a star or selling a billion dollars in records. I think people were just making music from the heart and the honesty that we had in doing this—I think that’s maybe what draws people to listen to us.
Do you think that people can make music from the heart again today?
Oh, for sure. We’re doing it. I think this new album definitely. There is no thought behind it—this is just the music playing the way it came to us in terms of inspiration and everything. There is no gimmick behind it.
You said you always had a need for sound—where did that come from? If you guys weren’t doing psychedelics like the English bands, what drove you?
I think it probably came from NASA. I was raised with like the X-15 and the X-2 and knowing all the names of the cats—like the guy who broke the sound barrier. All those things were so important for us. I heard the Sputnik—we put on the shortwave and listened to the ‘bleep, bleep, bleep’ and it was an amazing era. All of this—the technology were so much in our veins, and all these things were happening so we always were connected to it. Especially because my brother was such a genius and proud of making all this stuff.
So it was space and the technology of the time?
All the science and technology and all the avant-garde things that were going on at the time. There was Picasso and all of this was influencing us a lot. Modern art and all this was a must for us. I think that was translating to sounds.
How long did it take to record this album?
It took about a year. We took our time—we didn’t want to rush everything. Especially because of everybody’s schedule and the bunch of things that everybody was doing and of course the beginning of the year was very had because Arnaldo left the band and we took our time.
What does the name mean?
It’s a Shoshone language. It means ‘raven.’ I was passing this crow in France and trying to get its picture and I got his picture of him looking at me looking like he was saying, ‘Get ready ‘cause you’re next.’ He was pissed with me. And I got the crow photograph and I was watching a movie about the Clark expedition and the Shoshone thing—I’m very involved with this area because it was such a magical place in America. I started to know of Nevada as such a great state. You go to Las Vegas and you forget the Strip and all the mountains are so magical and you have the fantastic lake and you go thirty miles to the other side and there’s snow—then you’re in the desert. You can feel the Indians there. You can feel the energy of America—which was great. I saw the documentary about the Clark expedition and there was this girl who I don’t remember her name—Sacajawea? She was very important symbol for women as an endeavor or entity and she saved the journals of the expedition and she was the one who guided the expedition—which was great. And so I started fooling around trying to get a name in Shoshone and I found a dictionary on the internet of Shoshone. I wanted to do like ‘Lightning Crow’ but the lightning word was like ten words together—it was huge. I couldn’t even pronounce it, so I just had ‘crow.’
You would have had the longest album title ever if you used the whole thing. Almost longer than Devendra Banhart’s first record.
Yeah—probably.
The most amazing thing about your show last year was that it was completely sold out—but your records were never released in America when they came out.
It was something that was really amazing to me, too. When we played in 2006 at the Barbican and one month after playing there we booked about 8 shows in America in the most brilliant places like the Hollywood Bowl and Fillmore and the Pitchfork Festival in Chicago—and we hadn’t played one note. That was really amazing. Now having all these things happening and playing in America and having so many people that are involved with us, it is something that makes you very happy and humble about it because you know that it was so spontaneous—it’s a beautiful thing to see.

OS MUTANTES WITH DJ NOBODY AND BUYEPONGO ON FRI., AUG 28, AT THE ECHOPLEX, 1154 GLENDALE BLVD, ECHO PARK. 8PM / $28-$30 / 18+. ATTHEECHO.COM. OS MUTANTES’ HAIH RELEASES TUE., SEPT. 8, ON ANTI-. VISIT OS MUTANTES AT MUTANTES.COM OR MYSPACE.COM/OSMUTANTES.

Download: Mika Miko “I Got a Lot (New New New)”

(off We Be Xuxa out now on PPM)

It’s hard to think of We Be Xuxa as a “sophomore album,” since Mika Miko have been sharing their music on 7” and cassette since the days when George W. Bush could still get reelected—everybody and their dad has seen Mika Miko play the Smell a billion times and probably stumbled into one of their sets at a college campus, warehouse, or SXSW showcase. Though at first they kinda filled the ecological niche abandoned by the Sharp Ease, Mika Miko’s fame and goodwill has shot far past that—and past anything we expected. They’ve proven to be unstoppable juggernauts of three-chord joy equally at home on a stage with metal hardcore punkers, noise bands, electro hip-hop brats, pop bands, smoke machines and smoky barbecues bursting with Tofurky beer brats.

And what I’d like to do with We Be Xuxa is sculpt a little narrative about musical arcs, and where this album fits into Mika Miko’s happy lifespan, and how it shows a progression or should be showing a progression or has too many extras or not enough. But Mika Miko stands gleefully outside of the spotlight of conventional criticism, as they continue to bang out the most fun-rockin’ sounds of these Smell-y times. They think of themselves as a live band, with recordings being more documentary than sound-crafting, so who am I to even judge? I wouldn’t want to immortalize myself poo-pooing a band whose t-shirts will still be worn thirty years from now by kids in Austin and Greece, but if I write a praise-piece, I may be stroking this generation’s Leaving Trains. (Never head of ‘em? Just ask an Angeleno aged 40-46 and prepare for some teary-eyed adulation).

So fuck history and fuck the scene. This album is really really fun to listen to, and never gives me dry mouth the way, say, bands like No Age sometimes do. (There, I said it!) Whereas so many acts who have “broken out” of the Smell excel at noisy dissonance and minimalist sound, Mika Miko remains minimal in the tried-and-true ways of their forefathers/mothers—three chords, screams and shouts, and short songs that sound nothing like Sonic Youth funneling Steve Reich and so much the better for it. On the surface, We Be Xuxa almost seems like a retread of old school American punk, but actually it evokes without constant copying—it’s fresh-faced punk, yet my heart hears Born Innocent-era Redd Kross in their sisterly choruses, and early early Black Flag or even Ramones in their strumming (minus Greg Ginn’s noodling) and Wipers downturns on the chords, and a Darby Crash-like insistence on writing lyrics too self-referential and profound to sing straight into the microphone. And there’s even a Urinals cover!?! And there’s a Beach Blvd-esque melodicism to Jessie Clavin’s bass lines, one that perfectly matches their Descendants-like love of making up pragmatic gerunds such as “Totion.”

A lot of reviewers have said these gals (et dude) sound like X-Ray Spex, but that is a lazy lie! Jenna Thornhill only seriously plays sax on one song, “Sex Jazz,” and that’s more of a death disco stomp—like Public Image Limited’s “Annalisa” as covered by Suburban Lawns. If I were to compare her to a punker dead, I would say that when Thornhill really sings, and has room to stretch out a bit past the Kipper Kid mongoloid voice she affects, she strongly evokes Mia Zapata’s womanly growl from the old Gits albums. She’s got some seriously untapped talent playing hide and seek with Jennifer Clavin on dueling phone-vocals. But when you hear the chemistry on call-and-response cryptic craziness like “Turkey Sandwich,” you can’t blame them for not exploring new skills when the old ones still work so well.

And the best part of the album is something that I have to admit I have NOT heard yet! Though L.A. RECORD always promises me free vinyl, the most I’ve gotten so far is a Halloween Swim Team single I could have scammed anyway. Ergo, I’ve only heard We Be Xuxa in its digital format, so haven’t been able to replicate the sweet secret I’ve been told exists on the end of the album—namely, that the final groove of the final song never terminates, and that your record player will just keep spinning it over and over again in a sonic loop-de-loop of delight. If that’s true, that puts We Be Xuxa on the par with vintage vinyl such as Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Music and another PiL song, “The Cowboy Song.” Perhaps this attention to detail, plus the piano plinks on punk-perfect “Beat the Rush” and the bomb drops on “On the Rise,” prove that Mika Miko care more about crafting studio albums than they care to admit. No matter—Mika Miko is a band enjoying a well-deserved rocket ride to fame and good cheer, and We Be Xuxa is a perfect transmission back to home base that will still sound good thirty years from now, even if I’m just blasting it on my way to the latest hip all-ages venue in Culver City.

—Dan Collins

Stream: Spider “Boozetown”

(from the self-titled EP out now on Thrift Store)

Spider’s first EP is a collection of all their recordings to date, including the songs previously released on their Hozac 7-inch. (The original is impossible to find unless some German nerd decides to sell it for a hundred bucks on Ebay.) This mysterious duo from west L.A. are OG’s of the American glue wave or bedroom wave style of music and have inspired strange bands across the globe with inspired shut-in weirdness. It’s a treat to have it all on one record. Half dumpster-score electronic beats and keyboards and half damaged-missing-strings punk guitar, this album utilizes the best strangled sounds I’ve heard in years. Song titles like “Boozetown,” “Witch Cookie,” “Scraping The Ruins” and a cover of Redd Kross’ “Charlie” pretty much sum up the deranged mindset. The fact that they have barely any information to identify themselves as human beings on or in the album makes you wonder what these two do when they are not making records. The EP reminds me of looking into someone’s window at night when walking down the street. Most of the time you see people sitting on the couch watching TV—but sometimes you catch something out of the corner of your eye that makes you look back. I’d imagine if I passed their window at night, I might see something very bizarre and if I looked back to make sure that what I saw was true, they would have drawn the curtains. They are the neighbors that make noise at all hours of the night and when the cops show up, there is nothing going on and the cops have to apologize. This is a party going on in another dimension peopled by beings with extra limbs and eyes where there shouldn’t be eyes. It’s H.P. Lovecraft getting ripping drunk and wearing a lampshade on his head while a vampire and a mummy are making out in the corner. Yes, you can dance your ass off to this music—just don’t get caught dragging the bodies out the back door.

—John Henry