Thunderclaps
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I used to rock. It’s all I did in high school and college. Punk, pop-punk, punk rock, garage, grunge, metal, hair metal, you name it, I rocked it. But age, predictably, brought a taste for the soft and vintage, sad and sweeping, melodic and cooing, intricate and moving. I don’t rock that much anymore. Nowadays, putting on an old rock record prompts more nostalgia than angst and energy; it’s just not the same as the days of pissing off the neighbors and driving too fast all in the name of you know what. I miss rocking out and feeling carefree about it. I miss think-free rock and roll. It’s hard to rock these days. But every now and then I hear a new rock record like The Horrors’ upcoming Strange House—due out in May—that kicks in those old flames for rock and does so without a jaded and nitpicky sense of discomfort. So without being nitpicky and jaded, let me confess: The Horrors rock. With track titles like “Jack The Ripper”, “Thunderclaps” and “A Train Roars”, Strange House haunts, rumbles and shreds or—simply put—kicks ass. The ferocious London band reminds me of old school Brit punk, Stooges-dominated garage punk and the now defunct, once awesome Murder City Devils. They’re tortured and punishing and always on the verge of exploding – there’s enough tension to tear walls from their foundation. I bet they kill live. Hell—I’ve never seen them—but I know they do. My old rocker self still remembers. "Punishing":http://www.myspace.com/thehorrors
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