The Factory Superstars “b/w “Lullaby For Furs”

(-review by Moses Midnight)

“Wait until I’m dead and you will see what all the fuss is about…” (-Dogs D’Amour)

Hollywood Rocker, cult-figure, quick-draw artist, and suave black magician, Evad Fromme lived with the immortal and mythological, galactic kid, Alistarr from the Ultras, on Hollywood Boulevard during the late eighties/early nineties English Acid glitter daze when bands like the purple haired Zeroes, Glamour Punks, Stars From Mars, and the Coma-Tones strutted up and down the walk of fame in eight inch platform shoes. Evad is a stand-out, singular talent, in that his distinctive vision and voice are always expressed in a unique and personal way, he is a quiet genius, with a gift for pure expression, who sees things through his own lens. While corporate media and the bipartisan police state shit-show make it seem like we are trapped hopelessly in a pseudo-echoing Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus ruling class product, no-exit, corporate purgatory; Evad and his talented friends, are steadily producing this really hauntingly glamtastic gothic cowboy music in the shadows of the Hollywood palms. Wow, it is like very old school, original Alice Cooper band, and the Faces. Lords Of The New Church, Jo Dog and Paul Black’s Sonic Boom, the Joneses, Quireboys, Slow Motorcade, Dr. Boogie. Bandido glam. Desperado rock. Tombstone minds. Best I’ve heard since Tyla and the original Dogs D’Amour were moping around in that graveyard of empty bottles. Evad and I share a lot of common enthusiasms, influences, experiences, and associates, but you don’t always like all of your friend’s bands, right? Well, I love the Factory Superstars, they blow me away, if I was not friends with Evad, I would want to be, upon hearing their very authentic, dirty, hellhound on my trail, switchblade rocknroll, because not everybody speaks our language, anymore. “Call Me The Devil” sounds like a lost track from “Killer” or “Love It To Death”, and it is, and I do! This is exactly the kind of band I’ve been wanting to put together since I was a gloomy death-rock waif first discovering the Alarm and Texacala and Lords Of the New Church! His guitarist, Paul Sanchez has got the silver. Really, the guitar throws down, just like the shag-headed Faces lads-on-the-tiles of golden lore! This is some real sleazy outlaw music, nastier than the Supersuckers or Lazy Cowgirls. Factory Superstars are keeping rocknroll evil, if you were a fan of the Four Horsemen or Hangmen, you will most assuredly also love Factory Superstars. They are really raunchy. They play punchy saloon-punk full of attitude and really reminiscent of the Lords Of The New Church‘s “Gun Called Justice” spaghetti western type stuff. “Lullabuy For Furs” is all western stars and spurs, cactuses, cow skulls, mysterious, scarfaced old wraiths in ammo-belts and black capes riding on black steeds. I love this kind of stuff. Clearly, his music is always right up my bottle strewn alleyway, but the thing I admire and believe in most about Evad is his originality, he always puts his own spin, his own vibe, his own unique poetry into the music, ties his own ribbon on it, which is just so tragically rare and exceptional in these dismal years, when most music is unimaginatively regurgitated, paint-by-numbers, showbiz-nephew, empty- product. Evad is doing his own thing with sincerity, style, creativity, and finesse, seemingly oblivious to whatever is going on in the default-reality straight-world. You might know his drummer, Tony Snow from Dramarama, or Shiteland Ponies. Factory Superstars are kinda like the ritualistic macabre theater of the Doors and scuzzy blues of the Stones “Goat’s Head Soup” spat back out, as a honky-tonk drinking band. Extraordinary.

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PinkLips “Pink Is The New F*#k You!”

(-review by Moses Midnight)

What a lovely surprise! I didn’t even know that anybody made bands this cool, anymore! It’s just really, really good, and pretty, and heartfelt, honest songs about frustration, desire and wanting, the conscience at war with the big programming, lust in the dust, innocence and experience, when one’s heart keeps calling, that involuntary, helpless, human cry for love. I dig it, deeply. Some of you know I’m an 80’s kid and I make no apologies for that-everything the sports mook, video game, unboxing products on youtube, I-Phone mainstream always mocks and skewers for being too earnest, or sincere, or corny and retro, I still cling to all that stuff quite shamelessly, so when I finally get some extremely rare, alone-time to listen to music, it was a bit of a struggle to play something modern and new, rather than the double cd greatest hits of an artist who soundtracked my youth that I stumbled over at the Goodwill a few days ago, for one dollar. Upon first listen to PinkLips, I am instantly captured by the gypsyish violins and snarly female vocal. You know that band, Nouvelle Vague-how gorgeous and seductive their music always is? Yes! I immediately like the PinkLips. “Gutter Starz” is reminding me of the Nymphs, the Pretenders, Patti Smith, the Divinyls, and Lydia Lunch. This is super cool, very fresh and even energetic sounding, extremely listenable, mesmerizing music. “Polly Vinyl” is another supremely satisfying smash hit. Remember that Alphabet City band from the early 90’s-Piss Factory, starring Lizzy Avondet? It kinda has that same intensity and edgy angst. The music is just flat-out exquisite-it sounds so big and full, almost like a major label band, like say, Kaiser Chiefs or the Pogues. “Now I Wanna Be Ur Dog” is just soundtrack perfect, gripping.
Breathtakingly cool-exactly like what you always wanted but never fully got from Royal Trux. Takes me back to dangerous mid-eighties after hours bars, when regular, everyday poor people were still allowed to stroll around loose and free in that city, just like….citizens! I love the vocalist-she is the weary and jaded voice of distrust and suspicion that’s still willing to risk all for a glimpse of something soulful or sincere, I am a bit like that myself, sometimes. Think: Niagara from Destroy all Monsters and Dark Carnival meets Inger Lorre from the Nymphs. She is a real cool tomato-bratty, smart, fully alive and vital, wide awake, with an amphetamine urgency and awareness, the driving, sensual sounds on this shiny disc are dark and sexy, like the Lords Of The New Church or Patti Smith Group. The presence of divinity. Kissed by the flames. Ridiculously and unexpectedly soothing and stirring. They even delve into haunting night time terrain, visiting the dusky blue sonic geography of Mazzy Star, Lana Del Ray and Chris Isaak, making hazy stabs at pained yearning and starlight signaling and spaghetti western spookiness. They know what they are doing. You can see the little hotels on the side of the road, the cactus, the old, faded landmarks blurring by them. PinkLips are terribly beautiful. “You Not Me” is a bit like Sonic Youth or Hole minus all the mainstream ambitions and relentless posturing and careerist baggage that always turned me off and left me feeling cold. It’s all about hot emotion, fast driving, the desert highway, and big skies above. This is a perfect band, really, and I generally hate everybody ,nowadays. All the contemporary groups just mostly remind me of loathsome johns at the strip club throwing dollar bills in the air. PinkLips are warm and soulful, brainy and authentic-a merciful, much needed, well deserved antidote to all that detestable, fake pushbutton bullshit product-art. “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised” is cool. It gives me a glimmer of hope that someone out there in the current climate is still even hip(!!!) to these old ideas. “Why” sounds like some hotwired indie, as if PinkLips are jumpstarting all your favorite old junk store treasures and forgotten aspirations, with a rusty screwdriver. It is very good stuff. Almost like a meaner, updated Nymphs. “I’m Not there” is gorgeous, golden, unusually soulful. Full of brave feeling. I love it! Special thanks to the dear friend who rightly sensed I’d appreciate the PinkLips. He was right.

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