Tag: Chicago punk rock

Rewind Review: Naked Raygun – All Rise (1985)

I was 14 when Chicago punk legends Naked Raygun released their classic album All Rise. It would be another two years before I was able to drive a beat-up station wagon that formerly belonged to my Uncle Tony to a punk rock club about 45 minutes from my house and there become aware of Naked Raygun and their cult status.

It’s easy to figure out how they rose so fast in the mid-1980’s punk scene. All Rise‘s opener, “Home of the Brave,” is an instant anthem for the Reagan era. Pierre Kezdy‘s bass on “Dog at Large” is heavy enough for a metal band. “Knock Me Down” begins with a subtle start, but soon roars to life with frantic drums by Eric Spicer and Jeff Pezzati‘s snotty lyrics about a girl he can’t shake after she’s dumped him for good. One can’t help but wonder if “Mr. Gridlock” refers to President Regan, Chicago mayor Harold Washington, or someone else. The song has a deadly swagger to it, as if it’s looking for a fight. John Haggerty‘s guitar sounds like a tuned chainsaw on it. “The Strip” moves back and forth between chugging punks riffs and Husker Du-like jams as Naked Raygun pay homage to a seedy hotel-bar. “I Remember” has some of Spicer’s wildest drumming on the album.

Pezzati’s vocals on “Those Who Move” (about speaking truth to power and freedom of information, among other things) are urgent and still relevant in 2018. Kezdy’s bass on “The Envelope” certainly pushes the envelope of the studio amps because it nearly knocks you to the floor right out of the gate. Not to be outdone, Haggerty shreds on “Backlash Jack.” As soon as “Peacemaker” starts, you get the feeling that it’s not going to be all that peaceful. It isn’t. It’s heavy, squealing, and even a bit terrifying. The album ends with “New Dreams,” a punk anthem that sounds as fresh, raw, and vital today as it did in 1985.

All Rise is classic working class punk rock by four lads who deserve to be in the same conversations that bring up Fugazi, Bad Religion, DRI, the Dead Kennedys, and other legendary punk groups.

Keep your mind open.

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So Pretty – Suck It Up

Chicago funk-punks So Pretty (Ashley Holman – guitar, vocals, Stefan Lindgren – drums, vocals, Rachel Manter – guitar, bass, vocals, ukulele, James Seminara – bass, guitar, vocals) seemed to have walked out of a John Waters movie.  They’re brash, a bit trashy, self-deprecating, and snarky.  Their second album, Suck It Up, is like a refreshing gulp of fruit punch that you realized is spiked with gin about thirty seconds later.

I first heard the band, and Suck It Up‘s opener, “Comfort Service,” when I saw them play in Chicago earlier this year.  Manter delivers a fiery rant from the perspective of a 1%’er chewing out hotel staff.  I can’t help but wonder if she works or used to work in a hotel and wrote it as a middle finger to dickweed tenants.  Basil Fawlty would love this tune.

Manter’s vocals and the band’s hard hitting on “Think Again” show they could start a metal project if they wanted.  Holman takes over vocals on “Blueberry Blues,” in which she screams that she wants “to be punk rock royalty.”  She’s well on her way, judging by the vocal and guitar shredding she unleashes on the track.

You can’t help but think of the Violent Femmes (thanks to the ukulele and funky beat) during “Nice Guys,” an ode to guys who treat women well and women who prefer to date douchebags.  The following track, “Whisper Corner,” is like a left hook to the liver after the gentle feint of “Nice Guys.”  It has Seminara and Lindgren unleashing a sonic assault in under two minutes.

“Chub Rub” is probably about what you think it is, and it’s a fun, trashy punk number.  They get funky on “Limbo,” with Seminara singing about the rut of modern living (“I felt a little bit better when I felt a bit strange.”).

“Manhandler” has Holman returning to lead vocals and she and Manter crank the distortion on their guitars.  It’s like a Bikini Kill track, and Holman’s ass-chewing of the song’s subject is great.  Whereas that track reminds me of Bikini Kill, “No Hamburger” reminds me of Sleater-Kinney with its nice double vocals from Holman and Manter.

The album ends with the gloriously weird “Don’t Give Up the Ship” as Seminara sounds like a drunk trying to explain the world’s problems to everyone stopped at the red light.  The whole band goes bonkers by the end of it, ending the album in a frenzy of punk chaos.

This is a fun record.  Fun punk, and especially good fun punk, is hard to find nowadays.  It’s nice to hear So Pretty keeping punk not only alive, but fun.

Keep your mind open.