It’s all EPs, no major labels and mostly locals this week, as Mine’s On The 45 chases some indie cred. You’ll have to wait till next week for the insightful analysis of the latest Pitbull single.

EP OF THE WEEK

COMIC SANS – Digital Natives EP

(Independent)

Crikey, this is hard not to like. In fact, snooty music elitism be damned – let’s stop even trying. Comic Sans, like a few of this week’s bunch of ragtag independent bands, hail from our own neck of the woods. And like a few of the other bands in this column, it’s a guitars+keys+bass+drums+multiple vocalists combo deal, today’s garage band no-brainer equivalent to burger+fries+coke. Still, it’s impossible to refute a combination that yields results like the twisted nightmarish first track Thom Moore, racing with a dark adrenaline, getting more and more frantic, like the soundtrack to a chase scene through the halls of a haunted castle. The Horseman also deals out the spook, albeit with playful mad-scientist tendencies, sounding like Bluejuice might, except if they were better. Even Berlin, with the braindead repeated shouted chorus of “We’re getting a tattoo!” is totally fun despite being ridiculous. Forget not liking Comic Sans – what’s harder is not listening to it again straight away. Comic Sans play an all ages show at the Old Museum on Feb 26, supporting Last Dinosaurs – so make sure you get there early.

HOWL – Howl EP

(I Oh You Records / Shock)

On Jeopardy the other day there was a category called Nominative Determinism, or people whose names fit their occupations. Sure, it’s a little easier to decide what to call your band based on its sound than it is to ensure your newborn’s name is an accurate summary of their future vocational choice (although the parents of sprinter Usain Bolt and Manila’s long-serving Archbishop Cardinal Jaime Sin lucked out, as Alex Trebeck pointed out), but as a name, Howl is dead on the money. Emerging from Ballarat, the most obvious howls from this recklessly high energy six-piece emit from the throats of their two lead singers, Michael Belsar and Lachlan Morrish, in what could be a vocal tribute to Craig Nicholls (think the exciting fervour of Get Free rather than the self-consciousness that pervaded a few later records). But the desperate abandon with which the keys and multiple guitars are pummelled give the entire EP the primitive anguish of a howl. Four songs run one into the next like a frenetic live recording, over and done with in less than nine minutes. It’s the third track Blackout which works best, promoting an organ out front like a decade-old Rocket Science track, and aping The Vines’ lead/repeated backing vocal pattern too, come to think of it. Their influences might still be at the forefront, but Howl have started like a band whose passion and knack for an irresistible beat outweigh their derivative tendencies.

LAST DINOSAURS – Back From The Dead EP

(Dew Process)

In receiving the new EP from cover stars Last Dinosaurs, my first inclination was to try and remember what they sound like. I’ve seen them play a couple of times, but only the name has stuck. Probably just a few too many beers on the night, hey? Or a few too many nights on the beer, lolololololol, see what I did there? Ahem. So let’s put the disc on ... Ah, now it makes sense. Locals Last Dinosaurs play a brand of sensitive indie rock that has hit enormous highs in the hands of other bands, but has also thudded into dull lows. Opening track Honolulu is a jaunty and spacious trip through melodic guitar lines, with an off-kilter African-tinged drum beat that hints at Vampire Weekend being the latest Strokes / Franz in terms of influence. Unfortunately, Brisbane’s Hungry Kids of Hungary already did it last year, and with a much more inviting spring in their step. As Far As You’re Concerned is a more maudlin guitar-heavy affair, mining the same emotive confusion as mid-2000s local faves Iron On, but again coming off second best, primarily due to flat vocals. Remaining tracks Saturn and Alps look further south for inspiration, using smooth guitar echoes to portray The Temper Trap’s current sound. The EP is neither an awesome nor a terrible listen, but just middling. The problem lies with sounding (consciously or not) like too many previous flavours of the month, without developing further upon any of them. Fingers crossed for progress with the next one.

VILLAINS OF WILHELM – Music For Animals EP

(Meow Music)

“Riiiip! ROOOOAAAARRR! Na-na-na-na-na (Giggle)!” Taking the actual songs out of the equation, that’s the noise the Villains of Wilhelm’s latest four-track EP makes. It rips the curtains down to make a startling initial impression of guitars and drums, roars away with unexpected punk-inspired vigour, but all the way includes a fun pop side. The Oh Yeah, as its name implies, is a big stupid belting old school punk rock number, more Ramones than Black Flag. Tuscadero, as its name implies, is ‘70s motorcycle leather jacket rock with a giant wink. Firefly, which implies nothing of the sort with its name, is a slow-chugging song that balances a slight funk groove with the continual threat of tipping over into screaming, a little like Iggy’s The Passenger. In fact it’s highly likely that the Villains listened to a few Iggy and/or The Stooges records before they leapt into the studio to bust these tracks out, and the result is a new high watermark for this local band.

BUICK SIX – Common Arms EP

(Independent)

If I was pals with Buick Six, and I’m not, but if I was, I would have a very funny lark up my sleeve for them! I would make sure I was hanging around their rehearsal one night, and then in between songs I would get a post-it note out of my pocket and pretend to read off it “Hey Buick Six! The ‘90s called, they want their riffs back!” Then we would all laugh, because they would know that I was just joshing, because who’s ever heard of anyone getting a phone call from a decade before, and also because they would know that I hadn’t just gone and taken a phone message either, so they would know it was a joke. But it would all be very funny and in good fun. The reason I would pull this hilarious prank is because Buick Six do play like they grew up in that now-distant decade called the ‘90s. The abrasive fuzz of Soundgarden (on Changes) and the stoner intones of (newly-reformed, yay!) Tumbleweed (on She Ain’t Right) are spread across this EP like Michael Buble across the Vancouver Games – they’re unavoidable no matter how you might try to believe otherwise. But unlike the rash of second-rate Seattle-revivalists that poked up on every cover band slot in the last few years, Buick Six aren’t content with just rehashing what’s gone before. There’s a fresh fast-beat, almost like a bluesy-boogie, going on underneath a few of the tracks, and thankfully none of the ‘Arrrraaaaaaaggggaaahhhhuuummmm’ indecipherable Vedder-via-Creed wailings that makes you want to facekick most ‘90s throwbacks. (Can we be friends now, Buick Six?)

SIMON TOPPER

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