THE ALTARBOYS www.thealtarboys.com "At first I thought the Altarboys were some sorta Portland (left coast versh) supergroup, because all their names sound famous - Jack Bastard, Lisa Furr, Big Rod Johnson, etc. But upon further inspection, naw, they’re just a bunch of angry, tattooed punks with local band pedigrees that read like a drive-in movie marathon: Dagger Debs, Dirty Harriet, Hellbent for Hell, Lady Speed. But on the strength of GHV2, I’d say superdom is not entirely out of their reach. The Altarboys sound is melodic hardcore, somewhere in the same chaotic moshpit as the Misfits and DI, with a welcome dose of greaseball rock n’ roll tossed into the mix. That ain’t rocket science, or even mad science, but it works perfectly here. The Altarboys (and girls - it’s a whole multi-gendered clusterfuck) have an ear for chewy pop hooks, they just bury them deep into granite-hard punk rock flail-a-thons. Songs like “Fucked Up Tonight”, “Worthless”, and the awesomely snotty “Bored” capture numb, dumb post-adolescent rage perfectly, and you just can’t help it, man, you wanna go destroy a 7-11 or something when this one is rolling. The action-rock riffs and occasional 20-second flash metal solos will ensure the Altarboys a space on every punk n’ roll gig that rolls into town, but it sounds like their hearts are really in sweaty, boozy punk rock basements, egging on a teenage hardcore riot. And I am all for that, man." - SLEAZEGRINDER THE JOLENES www.thejolenes.com The Bangles were a great band. Really. Susanna Hoffs still has a place in my heart to this very day. And let's not forget the Go-Gos -- Jane Wiedlin's doe-eyed stare and one-hundred watt smile still couldn't outshine her shimmery sweet guitar-playing. Those groups exemplify the all-girl band phenomenon of the eighties. The Jolenes accept the failure of the aggro-girl wave of nineties alt-rock and cast their eyes back to the golden age of "Manic Monday" and "We Got The Beat", but it's not a retro thing -- far from it. Rinse And Repeat has more in common with Vancouver's Cub and Halifax's Jale than any of the current crop of New Wave revivalists. Guitars are distorted, drums are stripped bare and vocals are delivered in a deliberately un-"girlie" fashion. Sure, there are a few sultry whispers here and there ("Kelly's Got A Stalker"), but the majority of the material is in-your-face without the redundant claims of last decade's cries of "girl power". It's a pretty solid start from an upbeat trio of twee-popsters who don't seem to be overly fixated on the "twee" part. - Mike Baker, Splendid THE GODDAMN GENTLEMEN What happened to the twang? The non SOCIAL DISTORTION influenced JOHNNY CASH feel? Do Portland Oregon's GODDAMN GENTLEMEN bring a bottle of that good stuff with their CD "Chariots Of Fire Spitting Cobras"? Well it's ain't some aged 21 years in an oak barrell hooch but this is about SWIGGIN' and not sippin' anyways. The manic wrench swinging of GAS HUFFER's live shows (God! Thier albums were always sorta weak) and enough truck stop speed for everyone. Songs about spending all the girlfriend's money, coming in to work hungover (AGAIN!!!) and the general life I lead! Like the COMPULSIVE GAMBLERS reputation didn't proceed them (and they didn't try to live it down). This is on the LAST CHANCE label.  -Dale, SAVAGE MAGAZINE

	MUDDY RIVER NIGHTMARE BAND www.mrnb.net "MRNB (as they will now be known- that name is a fuckin’ mouthful) are from the dirty black swamps of Portland OR, and they all wear ratty denim vests festooned with redneck beer patches, and all of ‘em have red, puffy alcoholic cheeks and bloodshot eyes and life-spans that only extend to about 45 or so. They have a sound to go with all the self-abuse too, somewhere between the Slayer-fried white trash punk n’ roll of the Hookers and the dark, 60’s inspired stadium-sleaze of the Murder City Devils. Only that makes ‘em sound more complicated then they actually are. Really, they’re just loudmouth drunks that learned to play by covering Misfits songs, and are pretty much willing to bust a few local-yokel rock jerk faces wide open to make sure they get to open for Zeke. And that makes for some powerful rock n’ roll, baby. In particular, “Dirty Lies” just wrecks the joint, a balls-out riff n’ roll cock-fest that sounds like Nashville Pussy, when NP are trying to sound like AC/DC. Only drunker. Their title song is bad ass too, a staggering mess of cheesy keyboards, spazzy tambourine shakin’, and a snaky Blue Cheer riff. Righteous. The rest ain’t bad either, just faster, and more punk then rock. If you miss all those sleazy, self-destructing Junk Records bands from 5 million years ago (LaDonnas, where are you now?), then stop yr crying and start yr buying, because Muddy River’ll heal your pain, baby." - SLEAZEGRINDER THE FLAPJACKS www.theflapjackspdx.com If twang in your thang, check out THE FLAPJACKS and their latest “Move To Mars”. Red hot rockabilly that will have ya chillin, big vocals, bigger guitars and slappin bass. These boys are living proof that Elvis was an alien. - Starr Tucker, New York Waste COOKIE www.cookiefactory.com To me, the name "Conrad Uno" on an album is the musical equivalent of "open bar" on a party flier. You just gotta check it out. In this case, Uno produces power trio Cookie, who in turn spew out a constant blast of Ramones and X-fueled racket, featuring bassist Sabrina Rockarena's country-pure pipes. Rockarena can not only belt out a convincing "Your Good Girl's Gonna Go Bad," but can also scream out the singalongs with the best of them. "Black 'n Blue 4 U" sounds like a lost Fastbacks track, with delicious melody and velvety fuzz. "Mary's Lamb" starts with a twinkling riff then breaks down into East Bay chaos, with a whoa-oh chorus. Cookie blast out of the gate on fire, and though I'm sure all Hell couldn't stop them, I'd pay good money to see it try. - Kurt Channing, INK 19 THE SMOKES www.thesmokes.com   If The Smokes are a trio of guys who play amped-up, distorted blues with vocals that sound like they belong to a reformed punk rocker. The six songs on this album wouldn't be out of place wailing from the jukebox at your neighborhood biker bar. With their grinding electric guitar, gruff vocals and mellow, bluesy vibe, classic rock and blues fans will find this one hard to put down.- Troy Mayhew, INK 19