Rad Girlfriend Records – 20 Jan 2023
Good to the last drop…
Full disclosure: I was born and raised in the Buckeye state so I may be slightly biased, but I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, all the best bands are from Ohio and Dayton’s The Raging Nathans are no different. Nobody has been putting out new music recently with the same frequency, quality, or consistency; and any band that even comes close is in pretty rad company. Still Spitting Blood is the most recent example in a long line of releases splattered with LP’s and 7″s from the band’s own Rad Girlfriend Records. They’re mostly melodic pop punk as if they borrowed the oozin’ aahs from Bad Religion and maybe even a lick or two from Brian Baker, a little like The Murderburgers sans Scottish accent, and sorta like Sloppy Seconds with higher standards but there’s also a thin coat of thrash with the heaviness of hardcore and the minutiae of metal thrown into the mix.
They begin the slaughter right from the start on “Head In A Hole” with the speed and intensity of a serial killer in what seems to me like a vaguely political or a sarcastic blanket statement, straight social commentary, before sharpening their knives to cut into “And You Know I Know.” It’s easy to draw comparison’s to one of frontman Josh Goldman’s other bands (of which there are many), The Dopamines. There’s definitely an overlapping Venn Diagram to be found here yet their differences still help to define them and it’s certainly far from a circle. It’s only occasionally obvious and this was one of those instances but I mean that as a compliment. IYKYK…
One of the distinguishing aspects of the band is their melodic side of songwriting, melting melody and harmony through both voice and instrumentation. “Fucked Olympia” is certainly, at least to me, a standout in this sense. Harmonies are everywhere, in the guitar solos and the backing vocals, I’d dare to say it’s their signature. The vibe in the verses is almost a soft spoken word style but the chorus really drives my point home. “Doubt,” on the other hand, throws out some thrashy riffs and tandem leads while the lyrics feel like a rant through a rotary phone until they carve into “The Lime Pit” where the melodic nature really shines. Here our humble narrator seems to be ruminating over loss and a rash of racing thoughts, emotional and somewhat existential with acidic undertones but underneath all that aggression they’re really just a bunch of sweethearts. The simplistic solos and more specifically, the chorus, is for 3 chord connoisseurs. What’s a proper pop punk record without a few woahs?
In contrast, title track “Still Spitting Blood” sees them slicing into their more sinister side and the contrast in cantation is getting more searing, from snarly and snotty to gritty and guttural. The gang vocals feel vengeful and it’s like the microphone is right in front of your face. It’s majestically the meanest of the 11 offerings, the string section is screaming and rhythmic foundation is covered in crimson. It’s the title track for a reason and reminds me of something off of Rancid‘s second self titled record 2000. However, “Nothing I Can Do,” couldn’t be more different. It’s driving downstrokes with a walking bassline, a rare respite for the snare hand, and plain and simple rock n’ roll. Dr. Frank would be proud.
“The Answer (Smoke ‘Em)” feels like another nod to The Dopamines. I think they may have forgotten to add this one to Tales Of Interest with it’s orgasmic octives, atypical chord progressions, palm mutes, ring outs, and downbeats. I mean 4/4 or GTFO right? That distinction soon disappears and they’re reminding you with “Waste Of Time” that they are, in fact, not their friends from Cincinnati. More palm mutes and downstrokes but with a bit of bubblegum but I guess they must have bit their cheeks somewhere along the way (might this be why they’re still spitting blood?) because they’re doubling down on the double time on the way out. Weirdly, it’s a little like Lagwagon playing a wedding waltz. Rounding out the record with a dash of Dillinger Four and Direct Hit! is “This World,” one last drop of their definitive, off color caroling and intertwined guitars until it fades away and leaves me wanting more. “We’re all alone in this world…” Kill ‘em All!
With their near constant harmonizing Still Spitting Blood feels like a collection of warmongering worship songs sung by the choir of the occult, a ghoulish glee club so to speak. The dynamics of the vocal timbre differ to a varying degree across the depth of the album giving each song a distinct feel. Their amps bleed electricity, a sonic sacrifice of high gain guitars while the basslines seem surgically stitched to the kick, the rhythm section is solid as a stake to the heart. That being said, has anybody checked on the drummer? He might be dead… I think he’s been playing at higher bpm’s a little too long without a break. Here’s to hoping didn’t end up being the sacrificial lamb…
Behind the rough exterior is a soft, sentimental side that proves to be a powerful muse which mingles well with the eccentricities and sarcasm, but damn if that outer shell isn’t being shattered into shards of shrapnel. All my loquaciousness aside, there’s an emotional element to the eagerness and urgency of the chaotic stories told inside and, simply put, it’s just a really fun fucking record.
the white drew carey (aka – Jeff Sorley) is the founder and head editor of TGEFM. He’s lived (outside of) Chicago, Madison WI, (ugh) Penn State, Lyon FR, Oxford UK, central New Jersey, and now within earshot of SFO in the Bay Area. When not scouring the web for more great bands and labels to post about, he also spends time drawing (mostly) silly sci-fi and anime stuff under the name Asplenia Studios.
