THE BLACKOUTS AND RIC SANDLER

I’m a hateful sonuvabitch. That being said, I can’t figure out whose bright idea it was to have me do music reviews. Most recently, two compact discs have wandered unsuspectingly into my jaded crosshairs.
First up is The Blackouts’ latest release, Everyday Is A Sunday Evening (lucidrecords.com). This album starts off in true indie rocker fashion; heavy on the guitar, hauling ass with the drums, and mashing my brain into a baby food-like paste with the whiny vocals. The first half of the album manages to focus more on the “rock” than the “indie”, which is pleasant. The Blackouts wield unruly guitar riffs and drum barrages reminiscent of The Who and Cream. Still, after a point, the touchy-feely vocals start to molest me into a neck-snapping rage. All the songs start to blend into one long remake of an album by The Strokes, and that just leaves me wanting to eat children. To make it worse, all the tunes on Every Sunday,.. end up being a gallon dose of overkill, in which the chorus of the song is repeated again and again. I can listen to Jon Spencer yell, “Blues Explosion!” a million times, and not even blink. But hearing these guys belt out heartfelt lines like, “,.. and if I could, I would do it again, just one more time! One more time!” was like getting a vasectomy from a badger.
By the time I got to track five, I totally understood why most punk tracks are barely two-minutes long. Honestly, if you’re into bands like The Strokes, The Hives, or various other “The” bands, these boys’ll stir your casserole. If you’re a soulless bridge troll like me, you’d be better off sticking to something like Tool or El-P.
Next comes Ric Sandler’s Rhythmunderground (Rich ID Records). I wish I could do a more thorough review of this album, but my editor says we don’t have two pages to spare. Rhythmunderground is Jack of all trades and the master of bung! I like a band that can cover a lot of ground, stylistically, but this is ridiculous! The first track is like a C+C Music Factory song, complete with a big-tittied fly-girl bellowing out, “Feel the rhythm!” in the background. The next song is a reggae/ska tune, and the one after that is an upbeat Celtic/country rock out extravaganza! I think that girl from the Dixie Chicks even played violin on it. You know, the ugly one. And, just when you think he’s pulled all the goodies from his bag-o-tricks, Ric whips out the funky, scratched up, punk rock vocal effects on us! Yes! Captain Sandler and his cohorts go on to drop the hot shuggy-na-na on us for 13 tracks, with the style of a circa 1984 pimp, and the grace of Louie Anderson in an oatmeal soaked, gay bath-house orgy. It’s so sweet, it should be illegal! Hell, I think it is illegal in Vermont.