Reviews

Pee Blood

Anonymous Carpetting Anonymous Carpetting cassette

The latest missive from Arielle McCuaig, Calgary’s leading art-punk agitator in PUPPET WIPES, VACUUM REBUILDERS, JANITOR SCUM, and probably at least two or three new projects just in the time since this ANONYMOUS CARPETTING cassette appeared last month. This one’s a solo home-recorded effort, all rinky-dink Casio presets layered with gnarled, freeform guitar and surreal spoken/chanted lyrics, scratching and collapsing like the most genuinely oddball Messthetics oddities. The appropriately anxious electronic twitch of “Nervous Habits” pays tribute to the PETTICOATS (connect the conceptual dots straight to “Paranoia”), the nagging, CHROME-plated rhythm of “Scab Thief” devolves into something far more mutated than mutant disco, and “Bell Bottom Strutter” is like a roughed-up, needle-pinned version of PRESSLER-MORGAN’s poetic, minimalist punk—all signposts from the past dotting the well-trodden path of wonky DIY, but ANONYMOUS CARPETTING takes plenty of detours along the way.

Yankee Cowboy Yankee Cowboy cassette

YANKEE COWBOY openly call themselves “Calgary’s answer to the ALPACA BROTHERS,” and if that incredibly niche reference means anything to you (it certainly commanded my full attention), you probably don’t need me to convince you to jump on this one. Five originals and a cover of RUDIMENTARY PENI’s “1/4 Dead”(!!), all infused with the dark-edged, ragged tension of various mid-’80s NZ bands who leaned less purely pop (the ALPACA BROTHERS, true to form, but also SCORCHED EARTH POLICY, the MAX BLOCK, the TERMINALS, etc.), with tape-warbled echoes of TIMES NEW VIKING’s 21st century revival of much of the same source material serving as another vital link in the chain. The hopscotching bass line of “Me and Pinocchio” carries the song’s melody like the CLEAN smudged with post-punk fingerprints, the sweetly off-kilter dual/dueling vocals of “Critters” gradually dissolve into a storm of gnarled, BAILTER SPACE-worthy feedback, and the blown-out jangle of “Not a Whole” is textbook Flying Nun, just spiritually relocated to the plains of the Canadian Prairies—full-force faux-Kiwi.