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102 NOVEMBER 2015
W.A.S.P.
Golgotha
W.A.S.P. were once a band
notorious for their over-the-top
stage antics and vocalist/guitarist
Blackie Lawless’ circular saw
codpiece. Yep, W.A.S.P. weren’t
the most tasteful band in the
world, but they sure could write
a heavy metal anthem – and to
their credit, they have many to
their name. Lawless is now a born
again Christian and Golgotha is
inspired by texts lifted from The
Bible. Religious devotion aside, the
ever-faithful W.A.S.P. colony are
in for a treat. Golgotha is jammed
with hooks and Lawless is in fine
voice, giving the album an '80s
vibe without sounding dated.
(Napalm Records/Rocket)
Simon Lukic
Custard
Come Back, All Is Forgiven
“I woke up on the road again,
my hands upon the wheel.” So
starts Custard’s first album in 16
years, the wonderfully titled Come
Back, All Is Forgiven. It’s a wistful
wander down the dark alleyways
of the early ’90s, and the Brisbane
bon vivants maintain a lovely
laidback feel. If you aren’t familiar
with their work, imagine a comedic
version of The Go-Betweens, less
literary, more laughs. Check out
first single We Are the Parents
(Our Parents Warned Us About),
and their wry reflections on
contemporary art (Contemporary
Art) and their university days
(Queensland University). Custard
songs are slight, but impossible to
dislike.
(ABC Music) Michael Dwyer
Don McGlashan
Lucky Stars
Don McGlashan is loved in the
land of the long white cloud. A
quality songwriter, he found fame
fronting The Mutton Birds. Lucky
Stars – his third solo album and
first in six years – is a compelling
collection of melodic pop, sitting
comfortably alongside work by
Kiwi contemporaries Neil Finn
and Dave Dobbyn. There’s a
simplicity to the record, but it’s
filled with subtleties and a sense
of foreboding. “I can feel the
storm coming,” he warns in When
the Trumpets Sound, and in the
closing cut he muses, “If I should
vanish, if my story was done.” If
that’s true – and one hopes not –
McGlashan is going out on a high.
(Only Blues Music)
Michael Dwyer
The Winery Dogs
Hot Streak
The union of Richie Kotzen, Billy
Sheehan and Mike Portnoy was
always going to prove interesting.
Their self-titled debut was a
success and Hot Streak will no
doubt be another hit for the band.
Hot Streak covers a broader
palette than its successor, which
stayed true to the classic rock trio
format; here the band spreads
their wings, making for a richer
experience with subtle nuances
discovered after repeated listens.
The beauty of The Winery Dogs
is the way the group sound so
effortless and soulful. Each player
is a virtuoso in their own right,
but never do they sacrifice a good
hook over musical chops.
(Sony)
Simon Lukic
My Disco
Severe
For a long time My Disco
worshipped at the temple of
Steve Albini, recording every
album with him and evoking his
various noise-punk bands too.
But they’ve taken their increasing
minimalism to game-changing new
depths on Severe, mining the full
potential of determined restraint
and thundering reverberations.
Quiet moments hang in the air on
tracks like King Sound, before the
trio come crushing down on us
again. There are also more effects
than ever before, adding a surreal,
charred quality to their ominous
meditations.
(Temporary Residence)
DougWallen
Palms
Crazy Rack
Sydney’s charismatic Palms write
bruised, lovesick garage-pop that
runs thick with gnarled hooks
and airy vocal harmonies. Led
by Al Grigg (Straight Arrows,
ex-Red Riders), these fuzzed-
up singalongs are driven ahead
by ultra-catchy bass lines. In
My Mind evokes the stoner
bubblegum of early Weezer, while
No More detours into a nostalgic,
Lemonheads-esque ballad. Palms
aren’t too fussed about putting
their own stamp on such things;
they’re happy to just crank out
a party album for anyone who
cherishes noisy guitars, nonchalant
vocals, and nagging choruses.
(Ivy League)
DougWallen
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en Folds So There
en Folds has had his fair share of offbeat projects.
ut this solo album still comes as a surprise,
plit between eight orchestral-minded pop songs
nd a concerto in three movements. Both are
ollaborations – with New York ensemble yMusic
nd the Nashville Symphony, respectively – and
heir shared emphasis on strings and horns does
make the pairing feel more natural. But it’s an album of two halves. The
concerto is purely instrumental, flitting between modes with Folds’ typical
playfulness: the first movement teases with a piano boogie, while the
more manic runs evoke Bernard Herrmann’s scores for Alfred Hitchcock.
Folds sings on the first eight songs, turning in some of his wryest lyrics to
date. “How could I forget you when there’s nothing to forget?” he quips
on the title track, while Yes Man doles out self-applied fat jokes and F10-
D-A goes overboard with the refrain “F’d in the A with a D.” That last tune
aside, though, the pop section is surprisingly free of bombast, and Folds’
vocals remain tender even when the lyrics drip with venom. The whole
album proves as spotty as it is ambitious, at once gorgeous and unwieldy.
(NewWest/Warner) DougWallen