Hello friends and welcome to this, the sweaty final edition of Now Hear This on Suicidegirls.com. I'm not going to hold forth on any New Agey bullshit like "how I'm feeling about it"...for that, you must read my maudlin blog. I'm just going to do what I always do, i.e. tell you about some bands I like whom I think/hope you out there in Internet land might like too. I've gotten some nice comments from people who want me to keep making recommendations, so I'll start inserting them firmly but gently into my SG blog. I hope you've enjoyed this column, and that I've come off more as a big dorky fan than some high fallutin' rock afficionado, because, ironic fronting aside, that's really all I am. If there's one thing that keeps me marginally functional despite frequent heartbreak, professional frustrations and bunions, it's music, and I try to share that with folks as best I can.

Screaming Females

"All the music this year is made on fuckin' computers, man," said one observant bro in front of me in the beer line at the Fader Fort during SXSW. "It's good to hear some fuckin' music with guitars! These guys rock!" He was talking about the new Taylor Hanson/James Iha supergroup Tinted Windows, and he was sorely, dangerously wrong. But when it comes to New Brunswick, New Jersey's punk trio Screaming Females, my little riot grrl heart wells up with the exact same sentiments. Look and listen!



Lead singer/guitarist Marissa Paternoster shreds like a demon, combining the best of '70s riff rock and '90s garage to create something uniquely bone-rattling and head-bopping. Her voice echoes punk icons from Siouxsie Sioux (throaty and authoritative) to Corin Tucker (that amazing scream). By the time Screaming Females are done with you, your head is a pile of blissfully quivering jelly. Anyone still mourning the demise of Sleater-Kinney on the eve of their progression to profound monster riffage minus all the bad things about cock rock will take much comfort in this band's existence.

They're currently touring with Jack White and Allison Mossheart's new buzz project The Dead Weather, so check them out if you can; if you can't, their latest release Power Move is a pretty good substitute. Fun fact: they still do all of their own booking.

XYX

On the topic of badass women, how about this drum & bass duo from Mexico? The words "drum & bass" are misleading; this is no techno group, though their obsession with psychedelia means they probably wouldn't turn down a gig at a rave full of people on drugs. Fuzzy bass lines run ragged over relentless drums as lead singer Anhelo makes noises ranging from meditative, to indignant, to downright maniacal, which are then run through various pulverizers and centrifuges until they grow to truly frightening proportions. The perfect soundtrack for your friendly neighborhood brown acid desert freak out. Consume with caution.



They are currently on tour in this great land of opportunity, the U. S. of A. Their first and only 7" is currently sold out, but to tide us all over they've made "Sistema de Terminación Sexual (Extended version)" and a few other tracks available for free on their very own D.I.Y. label's website. Aaw.

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs Get Twisted

Because you can never have too many brown acid desert freak outs (actually you can, but whatevs), I'm now going to show you Snakesweat, the 7 minute video The Yeah Yeah Yeahs put up on Pitchfork to accompany their excellent latest album, It's Blitz. Just when I think this band is losing all its wonderful quirks in a grab at mainstream stardom (I liked Show Your Bones but it also bummed me out), they do something to remind us they're still skulking art kids who can make "a visual journey into our sonic crusade" without feeling any obligation to explain it to us neophyte plebes. This Barney Clay directed clip has everything: Nick Zinner as "The Scientist" brandishing a whip; Karen O as "The Black Widow" looking sexually threatening as she spits, smokes a cigar, and shoots guns; and Barbies far more on fire than the ones in that silly Soundgarden video from the '90s. It's only up for one week, but just between you and me, I'm sure enough people will have ripped it by then for it to stay on the Internet approximately forever. I'm going to get stoned and watch it as soon as I get done writing this post, possibly sooner.

Obits

Formerly a key member of such underground juggernauts as Hot Snakes and Drive Like Jehu, singer/guitarist Rick Froberg has returned with a new project that's a touch more melodic than his older material, but just as loud and cynical. Blues, punk, and post punk combine in ways just new enough not to feel like a retread while keeping his spit and swagger with lyrics like "the streets are all full with people/I don't feel close to them/I led myself to what I want/right now I'm gonna win."

"Pine On," the first single off Obits' debut album, I Blame You, now has a video featuring the curiously Freudian tactic of turning upside down and painting eyes on one's chin. This is not some magical, vaguely blowjobby, inverted Spiderman kiss; twitching lips, moist tongues and unapologetically styled facial hair create an effect strangely vulgar and, in the basest way, funny. In short: the perfect accompaniment to the song.



They're currently on tour all over the place, and if their performance at SXSW was any indication, it's worth the ticket price for Froberg's GG Allen-esque stage antics alone.

Did you guys know that I like music videos? It's my secret hope to someday pretend I'm Liv Tyler or maybe Alicia Silverstone as I sulk and prance to create the perfect visual tableau for some great song.

I never know how to end things, so I'll leave you with my audition to be the next big video vixen:

SPOILERS! (Click to view)

Not bad, right? Smell ya later.


Hunter is a Brooklyn-based writer currently contributing to Vice, The New York Press, Impose, and The L Magazine. If you email her at hunter.suicide AT gmail DOT com, chances are she'd love to add your publication to that list. Seriously, she's got some time on her hands.