Friday March 29th 2024

The Lost Riots – “The Stories Are True”

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The Lost Riots – “The Stories Are True”

 

I checked out The Lost Riots (from Connecticut) recently. Only reason being is I saw they were playing with my punk daughter’s band, Whoopi Sticks- that’s next Saturday, August 20th 4pm at the Midway Cafe in Jamaica Plain, MA (and that is a plug.)

I always check out the bands she plays gigs with as I don’t want her to be consorting with any reputable people. I only want her rubbing shoulders with disreputable, seedy, shady types. Whose company her Slime-dad would feel comfortable with.

And though I haven’t met them or heard them play live, I recognized this album as one of the best I’ve come across this year.

And I know their music is disreputable- meaning punk in the very, true sense.

As they themselves mention, “bringing the early punk sound and snotty attitude…for fans of The Heartbreakers, Dead Boys and The Replacements.” The Lost Riots music is very influenced by early New York punk.

But the vocals are more hardcore, reminding me a bit of Paul from New York’s Out Live Death, high praise indeed. Along with a rhythm section that’s more rock’n’roll and a wonderful guitarist who plays leads that are actually, something you want to hear again, and is probably influenced by Johnny Thunders and all the best guitar players or that early era.

This is punk as it was, as it should be and as it is now.

Let’s take a listen:

The first song breaks out with some emphatic, near hysterical vocals yelping in emotion and intensity and answered by a gritty, dirty guitar lick. “We’re gonna, we’re gonna,” and the chorus sings “Die Alone.” This is one snarling, passionate rockin’ song smeared with an awesome, punk/rock’n’roll guitar as it rolls along. It includes an incredible solo that seems to take the best of James Williamson (Stooges) and Robert Quine (Voioids) molding it into one great aural/noise sculpture. I don’t know about dying alone but I can easily die happy after hearing this song.

“I wake on up it’s a quarter to six/ And everyday it’s the same old shit.” And I can relate even though that’s much closer to the time I go to bed. This punk writing is physically strenuous! “I just can’t wait till I’m back at the bar,” -Oh wait, at this job I have a refrigerator here! “This Job Sucks” explodes with energy and the chorus is sung in unison much like an old Black Flag tune. There’s a guitar solo or break that consists of one perfect, wobbly note that’s minimalist zen perfection. The job you have may indeed suck but the song you just listened to fuckin’ rocks!

“I can’t take another day/ living in suburban hell,” as “Suburban Fool” moves along with what they used to call a “boogie beat”, a bit like “Radar Love” by Golden Earring. But this song is drastically different with shards of broken barb wire guitar crashing around and anti-social lyrics like, “And I don’t care about the world/ Long as I can fuck my girl.” Lot’s of whammy bar Link Ray on angel dust guitar interludes here. There’s talk about Friday Night, drinking beer and fighting in this great, teenager rebellion anthem.

“Ready To Die” is a combination Dictators/Buzzcocks tune that rips your ears off and let’s the blood flow freely.

This song is called “Dead Boys.” The lyrics start with him talking to some girl he supposedly doesn’t care about anymore except the tangs of lust and emotion still has a firm grip on his heart, “Do you wanna come over tonight and listen to some of my records/ ’cause I just wanna stay at home and listen to The Dead Boys.” Another incredible guitar solo (best of the year) falls into place. And when I think about it, there’s not much better than you can do, than to sit at home and listen to The Dead Boys or to this wonderful song for that matter, my favorite on the album.

“Walking to the city street/ Walking thru the winter scene/ Walking past that Bowery drink/ Full of life where the glasses clink,” starts off “We’re Getting Old,” which is an acoustic/punk number and they just don’t get any better than this one. “Remember the park where we played ball?/ Now it’s a shopping mall.” This is a great song about how everyone’s getting old while somehow, I’m getting young.

“NYC Night” is as fast and claustrophobic as Manhattan at night and it’s as exciting and bursting with energy, too, in the midnight New York neon glow. “Born to run, we were born to die.” As the guitar screeches like a moving subway train, “Just two punks on the block,” it signals an end to this great album, grinding to a halt to let us off at another destination, one that’s new to our eyes.

The name of this album is “The Stories Are True.”

The sixties crime show “Dragnet” started with the words, “The stories that follow are true, only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.” But it was, actually, a corny and untrue show.

Well, I’m far from innocent but I try to be true. Punk is, above all other things, about being honest and real and true.

And this album and this band fits that description. And I believe this is one of the best albums this year that you can get your mitts on or wrap your ears around.

And I’m really sad that I’m gonna miss their show next Saturday (unforeseen circumstances) but that doesn’t mean you have to.

And I’m really glad I got to hear this record.

And it makes me smile, this notion I have, that maybe somewhere, somehow- Stiv Bators is listening to the song “Dead Boys.”

And is grinning.

(Slimedog)

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