Tag: The Alan Parsons Project

Bring your surfboard and get ready for a big fat middle finger to the man from The Lemon Twigs.

Pack a light lunch and bring your paper money, because Station Model Violence is taking us back in time.

It’s the first night of the year where I arrive at the station in daylight. Also, it’s been unseasonably cool. But neither of those things is as notable as a new album from Toadies which brings up more of that brutal precision fuzz pop that made my ears perk up the first time I heard them over 30 years ago. Elsewhere tonight: a phone call from PJ, on the road, and middle-cased keyboards.

If you visit Los Frankies’ website, you’ll see they describe themselves as influenced by early 2000s garage rock, which spins my head around while ghostly drifting clocks and peeling calendars are superimposed in the background. Great stuff! Also, I changed my mind while I was playing one of the songs, and decided it isn’t actually good. I’m not going to say which one, but I will say I’m sorry.

Is there anything Matt Berry can’t do and do well?

Things started out normally, with a cover and an excellent new single from Waxahatchee, but took a turn for the unexpected when the highly-anticipated Cat Empire set went missing. Was it skipped over on the player accidentally? Had I forgotten to make a copy to bring to the station? Could I download it from the backup at home? After a couple of sets of troubleshooting, it turned out I had named the file incorrectly. These are the hazards you encounter as a live-in-the-studio DJ, kids.

From the benthic depths, Ozric Tentacles rules their empire of resinous drone.

It’s a bitterly cold night, though the thermometer is not the lowest it’s been this winter. Warming things up is King Tuff, whose twisted bedroom psychedelia is heating up my house in the manner of an unexpected early spring. It’s a strong start for an extended set of sounds simultaneously catchy and powerful. Technical note: The Mixtape sounds best when recorded on TDK SA90 cassettes. Do not attempt to do this on Maxell XLIIs.

It’s a formula as old as time — take four Japanese ladies, dress them up in color-coordinated dresses and makeup, and have them play aggressive earworms featuring kawaii harmonies and the lethal precision of a veteran death metal band. And yet somehow Otoboke Beaver rise above the rest of the entrants in this crowded field. Who am I kidding, they are one of a kind, and if you’re not listening to their latest album on repeat, you are missing out on a lot of endorphins.