Thursday, May 12, 2016

Dirt City Chronicles podcast episode 38

Sugar Loaded”

Broadcasting from cheap and sunny, Albuquerque N.M.... Dirt City Chronicles. Your active rock music podcast, streaming over the interwebs, across the USA and around the world. “Nothing could be finer than a 49er” and I'm not talking about football. I make it a point not to repeat songs, but on this episode I'm throwing that self imposed rule out the window. Untethered by convention or morality, the heart of rock & roll is still beating. The product of the working class, chafing at the chains of conformity cast upon us by a polarized society that is goosestepping it's way to a bad end. I present to those who have no fucks left to give, a soundtrack for your many moods. Repeat play as often as necessary.

“Ouch! Welcome to Albuquerque” came out in 1999. That iconic double disc set from Socyermom Records introduced a grip of music lovers to Albuquerque's music scene and it introduced me to Electricoolade and Frankie Medina. Española N.M. The self declared lowrider capital of the Southwest has a rock & roll musical legacy that most New Mexicans are unaware of. Going back to the mid-1960s, The Moving Morfomen (also known as The Morfomen) guided by the totally self confident musical genius of Dave Rarick (an underrated New Mexican rock & roll icon if ever there was one) resoundingly stamped their brand on the regional music scene.

The Morfomen weren't alone, The Defiants scored a minor regional hit with “End of the Highway” and The Era of Sound earned their indelible slot on 60s garage rock compilations with “The Girl in the Mini Skirt” (Cottonmouth i.e. The Wumblies, called Española home before they set off to find neither fortune nor fame) Everybody's doing something...Soda riding like Pops was doing” Channeling the past and predicating the future.... displaying more swagger than Swaggy P... Frankie Medina burst out on the local scene with Electricoolade, an alt-rock outfit from Española that Flipside, a “legendary” punk rock magazine once compared to The Replacements & Elvis Costello's Attractions.

Flipside described Medina as having “a Westerberg-ish howl and Prince like vocals” they sorta nailed it on the Prince influence. Beyond that, the magazine's review of Electricoolade's debut album “Super Hero” is loaded with generalized comparisons. The anonymous author, having perused Cd Baby's “Sounds Like” tags for inspiration (seemingly without doing any actual research on the band) gave the album a cursory listen and not having achieved the level of smugness usually associated with Flipside, tossed in a jab at the city different. “Definitely an impressive effort from four kids from Santa Fe, a quiet town better known for its art than its music” BLAM! Santa, you got a taste of the bitch puddin.

Over at CD Universe, Electricoolade's second album “Taste Me” didn't fare any better. A house scribe wrote off Frankie's vocals as “Jovi-esque. He did however give Medina and band credit for “creating well-written music that bridges the gap between hair metal and mainstream/alternative. It appears that the band did have some redeeming pedestrian qualities. Check yo' self. By focusing on clichéd tags and comparisons, both these chumps totally missed the mark. Electricoolade was a work in progress. A hyperactive buzzsaw of guitars and influences.... fronted by one of the coolest rock vocalists to saunter down the road since Iggy Pop his self. 

Walking Down Congress (Sucking on a Red Bull)

  You can take the man out of España, but you can't take España out of the man. Too cool for school and Santa Fe, Frankie Medina and Calida Salazar (whom he met at a Santa Fe recording studio) set off for Austin, Tx. circa 2005. It's been their home ever since. With Frankie on guitar and Calida on keys, The Dirty Hearts honed the Española sound down to a razor sharpness.... chock full-o-attitude and swagger. Following the release of their debut ep “Five Canciones Five Pesos” and their self titled full length debut “The Dirty Hearts” Frankie and Calida became Austin's darlings. They netted scant attention from major labels, though the alternative press doted over them. 
Pigs” their second album on Socyrmom Records was designed with success in mind, it nonetheless failed to bust 'em out of the Austin scene. They've since gravitated back to New Mexico (though not on a permanent basis) With The Dirty Hearts currently on hiatus, Frankie and Calida are now involved in a similar project, The Angel Babies, named after Rosie Hamlin's hit tune from 1960. They have a self titled album out, available on Band Camp. Save for Frankie dabbling in his Spanish music roots, The Angel Babies are more an extension than a radical departure from The Dirty Hearts. They bring the same kinetic garage rock strut to the table that we dug about their predecessors.

Frankie teamed up with Keith Herrera (founder of Resin Records and former drummer for Albuquerque punk legends, The Drags) to form The Kill Spectors, a psyche punk duo that we can only hope we haven't heard the last from. (Their debut single Red River Street / Live Like a Dog was produced by popular Santa Fe musician, Jono Manson) Calida, a professional photographer as well as musician, has some solo recordings posted on Soundcloud. Stripped down instrumentation and vocals that echo the singing and songwriting style of obscure and mysterious Texas folk songstress Jasmine Star, a gal with a paper thin whisper of a voice and an aversion to having her face photographed. 

Record Store ~ The Dirty Hearts
Libertines in my Scene ~ The Dirty Novels
Blondie ~ Bring Back Dad
Don't Ask ~ Stabbed in the Back
Getting a Raise ~ Scenester
Burning Bag ~ The Gracchi
Audience Reaction ~ The Dirty Novels
U + M = Forever ~ Farthouse
High ~ Scared of Chaka
Bad ~ Scenester
Exile ~ The Scrams
No Action ~ Elevator Boys
Action Figure ~ The Dirty Hearts
Pack Your Pistol ~ The Dirty Novels
Gracchi Saturday Night ~ The Gracchi
Sweet Justice ~ Dead Town Lovers
Song ~ Farthouse
Blew One ~ Gusher
An Empty Apartment ~ Swale
Goat Throat ~ The Scrams
We Love the Burning Silos ~ The Burning Silos