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The Good, The Bad and The Ugly - The Reviews
Midwest Record Recap
There are basically two ways a compilation can go: one is that the bands all contribute songs that they didn’t think were good enough to put on their own CDs, with the result being a compilation of crap; the other is that the bands all contribute songs they are proud of, in the hopes of gaining some new fans, with the result being a truly enjoyable sampler. Despite the name, What the Shite falls into the second of these categories. It’s a rollicking good time from start to finish, showcasing a variety of styles within the “Celtic Punk/Rock” genre. There’s not one track on here that you’ll want to skip over, unless it’s because you can’t wait to hear the next one. Even a seemingly tired standard like “Drunken Sailor” gets new life thanks to the irreverence of The Blaggards. With bands from all over the country, What the Shite is proof positive that the Irish are still
WHAT THE SHITE; Shite ‘n’ Onions Vol. 2 (Shite 'n' Onions) Due to the immense popularity of Shit ‘n’ Onions Vol 1, the drunkards over at Shite ‘n’ Onions have followed up with another Celtic/Irish festival of sound; ummm..that would be Vol 2, this release. While the running theme is one of Irish flavor, the music varies from rock to punk to bluegrass. It’s like one of those bars that offer ales from around the world, only here, you get music from aroun
d the world. Bring your own ale, freeloader!
Kicking off with the ever important first track is the Texas based Blaggards and
hard Irish take on “Drunken Sailor.” This is a great Irish pub tune done in a way I’ve never heard before and boy-oh-boy do I dig it (in fact, I’m going to buy the Blaggards CD). Up next is the more jovial sounding “Hogjaw” by Jackdaw. Say that ten times fast after ten pints of Guinness. The manic Irish Bluegrass sounding “Pub with No Beer” (a nightmare I personally survived) is served by Boston ’s Three Day Threshold. Also hailing from Boston is The Gobshites, who stagger their acousticelticore stuff in the cool sing along song, “Cheers.” Admittedly, I am a huge fan of The Gobshites because these guys can turn even anal warts into a good ol’ time. Out of the
great white north (Vancouver, Canada) comes the intense banjo picking The Town Pants and “The Weight of Words,” a strong tune oozing with fortune and adventure (another CD I’ll be buying). Let’s see if you can keep up with Warblefly’s fast paced “The Ballad of Ali Abbas.” Germany ’s The Porters will certainly work up legions of soccer thugs with their streetpunk/Irish sounding “Weila Weila.” Closing out the disc is “Troublesome Girl,” by the great Barney Murray (Blood or Whiskey). The back cover lists nineteen tracks, which is untrue. There be twenty, The Potato Punks at SnO forgot one. Eighteen bands, twenty songs, one helleva good time, for all. – Denis
It's not so much that everyone's Irish on St.
Patrick's Day, or wants to be, even. (This Mick found refuge among Mexican metal
fans at El Nuevo Rodeo last year.) Some of us merely want to feel as we imagine
the Irish once felt--to have solidarity with the downtrodden dead, to address a
room full of male friends as "boys," and meet the mud we're all headed for with
a punched smile and a fight song. Like the black Baltimore cops of HBO's The
Wire, raising a glass to the Pogues' "The Body of an American" in honor of a
fallen comrade, we're participating in an Irish version of minstrelsy just by
Freeborn men of the U.S.A. are the natural audience for the "Celtic punk" of Shite'n'Onions, initially compiled three years ago by Boston www.shitenonions.com webzine editor John Murphy and distributed by Omnium, the Minneapolis label run by Drew Miller. (Miller has plied a hard-rock
variation of this stuff with Boiled in Lead for 20-odd years.) Today the same team's sequel suggests a novelty that has flowered into a genre. Amid Muppet-like shouts from New York's Jackdaw, and squeezebox from England's Warblefly, Melbourne's the Go Set are a catchier Social Distortion with
bagpipes, Wisconsin's Kissers are Midwestern jump-bluegrass, and Chicago's Sharkydoyles are pub-funk-metal for pool players too old to rap. "You're never too young to die," they warble like gangster Gear Daddies. Trashy romance it might be, but I want thirds.