Downtown Boys s/t LP
Regular price
$13.00
Sale
Downtown Boys s/t LP
"But Full Communism was not the first album from Downtown Boys. Rather their self-titled album was the first they recorded, only not with any formal production or distribution method. It was recorded in a basement in Providence and burned to CD-Rs and cassettes they sold at their concerts. Now, with Full Communism making waves in the underground, the band has finally been given a wide release of their debut album through One Percent Press. But if you're like my ex-girlfriend and Full Communism was a little too harsh and discordant for you, I can assure you that you'll want to skip this re-release of Downtown Boys. If you're more like me, though, and can look at discordant, screechy, noisy music as an artistic statement rather than just bad music, then you might be more receptive to this album. You see, compared to Downtown Boys, Full Communism was a straight up pop album. Downtown Boys still has some of that party vibe, but it's more like if Royal Trux was putting on a party.
The tinny sound quality can be chalked up to the fact that the album wasn't recorded in a proper studio, creating a guitar sound that is, at times, reminiscent of Operation Ivy's. But on top of that, Ruiz's voice often screeches harshly in a way that it never does on Full Communism, as does the saxophone behind her that brings to mind Ornette Coleman's free jazz style. The highlight of the album comes in "Slumlord Sal" a song for anyone who's ever had a terrible landlord in a crappy apartment. Aside from that, the rest of the tracks push the limits of listenability. The Spanish language "Maldito" (a Spanish word that can translate to pretty much any vulgar modifier from "Damned" to "Fucking") starts out with one of the most bizarre saxophone solos the band has ever featured, and closes out with Ruiz screaming out what sounds like the word "gay" repeatedly. While Full Communism focuses almost exclusively on Ruiz as the lead singer, Downtown Boys features more back and forth vocals between Ruiz and a male vocalist, and in the closing tracks of the album, "No Pity for Boredom" and "Big Cop" we hear the two voices at times volley back and forth, but ultimately devolving into them shouting over each other, adding to the album's overall chaos." - Julie River / Punk News