Reader staff writer
Mrs. Carol Edwards, “(Whoa! Whoa!) Bussin’s Got to Go” seven-inch I often buy records that are a total mystery to me, and this country seven-inch fits the bill—even after taking it home, I’ve barely been able to scare up any information about it. If my research is to be trusted, it was made in Miami in the 70s, when the area’s schools were subject to desegregation busing. Mrs. Carol Edwards grounds her screed against busing in just-folks populism—she doesn’t mention segregation at all—but it’s hard for me to believe that she’s ignorant of the racial tensions underpinning the questions she addresses. I’m curious about how this record came to exist, even though I’m pretty sure it’s toxic crap. And I haven’t even gotten to the B side . . .
Craig Wedren & Pink Ape, “Say You Love Me“ I’m a sucker for anything the guys from Stella cook up, so I made sure to see the new movie They Came Together, a goofy send-up of cheesy rom-coms directed by David Wain. Former Shudder to Think front man Craig Wedren, who frequently collaborates with Wain, Michael Showalter, and Michael Ian Black, did most of the music, and this song has burrowed into my head—Wedren’s over-the-top sweetness fits the film well, and it’s winsome on its own.
Star and Crescent’s self-titled cassette This south-side hip-hop group, formed by five female Nation of Islam devotees, dropped a righteous self-titled EP in 1992. It’s a doozy.
Leor is curious what’s in the rotation of . . .
Alex Fryer, cofounder, Dumpster Tapes
Pookie & the Poodlez, The Last Thing I Did as a Teenager I snagged this EP from Trevor Straub (aka Pookie) after his in-store with Primitive Hearts at Bric-a-Brac Records last month. It rules, because even though the band is somewhat new to me, its sound is totally familiar. When I hear the Poodlez, I hear Hunx and Milk ‘n’ Cookies and Cheap Time and Nobunny—among other punk ‘n’ roll favorites. It should surprise no one that this 12-inch was first released on Nobunny’s label, Rubber Vomit, which describes itself as specializing in “appallingly lo-fi garage punk crap with a F-You attitude.” If that appeals, go find this ASAP.
The Donnas, The Donnas Nothing gets me more revved up and ready to go than hearing this ’97 album of bubblegum garage performed by four teenage girls out of Palo Alto. I stepped into Santullo’s for a pepperoni slice a few weeks back and nearly lost it when I realized this entire record was blasting through their speakers. I was with a crush at the time, and I tried to maintain my cool as “Rock ‘n’ Roll Boy” and “Boy Like You” came on. Not long after, I put the Donnas on a mixtape for him, and now that crush is my boyfriend.
Covers of the Urinals I first encountered the Urinals during my tenure DJing at WHPK 88.5 FM. Thereafter, I discovered that I really dig a good Urinals cover. Recent favorites include Fill Spectre and Mika Miko’s versions of “Sex,” Digital Leather’s take on “Hologram,” and High Tension Wires’ homage to “I’m a Bug.”
Alex is curious what’s in the rotation of . . .
Justin Vittori, plays in Rainbow Gun Show, Gross Pointe, and American Breakfast
Uh Bones Uh Bones is collectively one of Chicago’s sexiest rock ‘n’ roll bands. Around three years ago, I was meeting some friends at Lokal on North Avenue, where the band had cleared the chairs from the front window to set up. Not long into the first song, I had a rock ‘n’ roll epiphany. What I loved was that they played with all the piss and attitude that so many of the 60s revivalists I’d seen lacked—plus they had well-written, catchy pop jams. Uh Bones revived the music-obsessed teenager in me, a part of my personality that had been dormant for a few years. Bands like them are what I want to see every night, and through this show, I discovered all the local artists I love. I’m really looking forward to a full-length from these dudes.
Negative Scanner Late last month I stopped by the Milwaukee Avenue Arts Festival before work to watch Negative Scanner. My previous times seeing them were under hazier circumstances, but that afternoon, I was able to piece together what I like about them so much. They write noisy machine-gun guitar bursts into postpunk jams—a perfect blend. Plus, onstage Rebecca Valeriano-Flores looks like someone being blasted in and out of possession at the start and end of every song. She rips.
Bric-a-Brac Records Lastly, I want to shout out Bric-a-Brac. It’s my favorite record store in the city, and probably even my favorite place. Jen Lemasters and Nick Mayor are some of the raddest people I know. Everyone should check this shop out!