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The Players:
John Buglione - bass/vocals
Chris Fasulo – guitar
Ed Smith – guitar
Peelo (yes.. just Peelo) – drums
With all due respect to my esteemed colleague Mr. Devoe and Scientific, THIS is the music for which Hybrid was created. An unsigned band releasing their passionate music on their own with only a distribution deal. It’s everything we stand for, independent music in the truest sense, with emotive elements and hard-hitting, no holds barred garage punk. I hate to say emo, but better that than the pop punk they’ve been labeled with. Sure its melodic, it’s still got bigger balls than yours. I tingle inside when I listen to this, so I do it a lot. It’s that roller coaster coming down euphoria. With the wind on your freshly shaven head.
John Buglione will one day have his intestines dangling from his mouth, forced out by his unmistakable gritty scream. The cartoon of him on the album is exactly what I pictured, eyes squeezed shut, tongue wagging uncontrollably. What’s amazing is that most of what he is expressing can be heard, and felt.
Peelo’s drumming on "New World" is a thing of beauty. The tom rolls are like that first drink of Dr Pepper when you’re parched. Glug…glug and then the insane bashing. Buglione, or "John" as they call him, spews out a slice-of-life with such conviction that it brings tears to your eyes. He does some verbal overlaps that I’ve come to love so much. A touch of cocktail guitar jazz is set to Buglione’s weird tropical pronunciations of "If I Just Could Make It On My Own." Then they throw the umbrella drinks on the ground and bust the scene open. The guitar work is nice and the step up isn’t the cheap gimmicky sort. Buglione throws in a modifier at the end of a slow-down that shows what a great singer he is. He’s got an ear, and can sing on key when he wants to. Underground horns on "Paris Lights" kicked something loose in my head. These guys (and girl) would play well with Kid Chaos. Peelo’s powerhouse drums and the winding down guitars make me want to dance like an asshole. Arms flailing, head shaking, eyes closed, ecstatically forgetting what a hardened punk I am. Buglione runs out of breath and keeps a going. The sense of urgency is manic. When "Blacktop Cherries" goes into "Today I wish I woke up dead so this would not have happened" the expressive emphasis lends believability. The rhyme scheme on "Madeline, Again" is unusual and spry. When you can deliver a dire story like this with cleverly woven couplets, "She went out west, where the folks weren't so obsessed with the drama of her life. She tried her best but in the end she had failed their test though she hung on out of spite." my hat’s off. And when does this guy breathe? The guitars burst in like Marty McFly and knock you through the speakers. "Vampire" is a way-leads-on-to-way tale that follows subjects the way "Slacker" wandered. Geared up like a biker movie twisting along the PCH. Why is JD Salinger’s name even poetic? Echoes of Ramones permeate "21"’s simple, fast guitars. Unapologetic, they celebrate killing a string of girls, "Twenty-one ways to murder your lover. But there's only one way to kill a girl who lies." Now don’t get all bent, look at the rest of the record, you reactionaries. "John's" bass chugs and clanks through a complimentary guitar solo. "Velvet Cigarettes" is the low point, with its Pollyanna girlfriend-inspired why don’t you ever write me a song overtones. Slidey vocals and sappy background falsetto. Something happened here, I think Buglione’s eyes popped out and he’s lying helpless in a puddle of ocular juices. Because "Midnight Shuttle to FUNK-a-tron" sounds like someone else. I think the band took advantage of his immobile state to make this stylized bubblegum beach song. Suddenly they’re The Cyrkle. It’s got rounded guitars and well-placed rich phrasing. This quirky tune even has an organ back there, and nice guitar progressions. Almost reminds me of The Equals’ "Baby Come Back."
This is where things get a little weird…This is unorthodox, but so’s the disc. If you know you are going to buy this album, I urge you to stop reading this review. You deserve to experience the rest as I did, completely unprepared. So stop reading now and go order it. www.putridflowers.com 5 clams, my friend.
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. I’m serious now, this is only for those who aren’t going to hear the CD and for the benefit of the band who created this piece of work. Go away.
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. Ok, I’ve been awfully impressed so far. And I was starting to get into "Someday" when the theme shifted, but the momentum maintained. That happened again and again. I was through this 15-minute ordeal with my mouth agape, thinking this was all one epic song. The remainder of the record can only be described as a punk opera in 8 movements. I’m talking about motifs, variations on a theme, a reprise, drama, death and redemption. Such complexities are nothing to the vast emotions addressed in vignettes like "Getting Undressed" which goes as far to mention itself! "But "Getting Undressed" won't get airplay,
Because the words make little sense. All the chords are too complex. And the production is a mess! I confess." The rest are brutal and intertwined and emotionally exhausting, like the revealing "Starstruck" "I've loved you for so long, and though the words I said were wrong. I have written all these songs so you'd notice me." Recurring themes and references to previous songs of naïve heroes and guillotines. That’s a lot of my itches they’ve scratched. I’m excitedly satisfied and happily numb. It’s in my rotation with The Forgotten.
~Ewan Wadharmi
Track Listing:
- New World
- If I Just Could Make It On My Own
- September Nights
- Paris Lights
- Blacktop Cherries
- Madeline, Again
- (Feelin Like A) Vampire
- 21
- Velvet Cigarettes
- Midnight Shuttle to FUNK-a-tron
- Someday
- Asleep On The Guillotine
- Tragedy Will Someday Pay My Rent
- Tokyo, Japan
- 21 (Reprise)
- Getting Undressed
- Starstruck
- Guillotine
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