Some records are born and bred for shenanigans. Based out of Richmond, Virginia, the four-piece Southern heavy punkers RPG made their debut with 2004’s Full Time on Arclight Records, and with it they collected 13 tracks of straight-ahead anti-bullshit rowdiness, careening through boozy riffs and pub-fare vibes on their way to a seemingly inevitable crashout. Influences like The Stooges and MC5 go without saying, but their punk roots ran deeper than that. One imagines them at some point taking a stage alongside Zeke and absolutely leveling everything in their path, but RPG‘s Full Time isn’t just about speed, or a brash attitude. In two-minute cuts like “Clockin’ In” and the strutting “Crash Bam Boom” there are hooks that speak to a rock classicism that one finds manifest in bands like Roadsaw and The Brought Low. Come to think of it, how these guys didn’t wind up on Small Stone Records at the time is something of a mystery. Nothing against Arclight — they had some killer releases, including Amplified Heat, Cardinale and the first The Book of Knots record — but RPG would’ve been a more-than-decent fit as labelmates alongside the likes of Dixie Witch and The Glasspack, and it just never happened for whatever reason. Still, Full Time holds up remarkably well for the 14 years that have passed since its release, and whether it’s the opening shove of “Nazi Mindreader” or the unhinged workaday garage rock of “Untuck It,” the whole outing brims with an energy that’s almost too easy to read as a Friday-night tension blowoff; beers downed, riffs unleashed.

It’s the kind of party where, one way or another, somebody is losing their keys. Maybe they show up again, maybe they don’t. But screw it, that car was junk anyway, and when RPG kick into the start-stop tension of “Standstill Blues,” who’d want to go anywhere anyhow? Like all of the cuts surrounding on the 29-minute full-length — half-hour set put to tape; maybe a minute left to tune between songs if that’s your thing — “Standstill Blues” is short and sharp at about two and a half minutes. As it should, the shortest of the bunch, “Lose It” (1:27) — for which they also made a video — arrives as a burst of electroshock therapy next to the relative sprawl of the longest cut, “Paralyzed” (3:07), which takes a full 37 seconds before starting its first verse; an anomaly given much of what’s around it. Comprised of vocalist/guitarist Matt Conner, guitarist John Partin, drummer Mike Marunde and bassist Tony Brown (since replaced by Bunny Wells), the band hit the brakes a little bit on “Early ’72,” but “You Gotta Know” before it and “Ghetto Rose” after are ragers, the latter with a motor-ready tear-ass winding riff that’s here and gone before it even has time to show up on the radar gun. The rest of the record continues basically in form, somewhat malleable in tempo, but never veering from its central purpose in the drunkard punkard, “Crash Bam Boom” capping with a blown-out insistence that’s a punch to the face even among its compatriot cuts, and “Can’t Get Any Sleep,” which boasts the line, “I cannot have the American dream/If I can’t get any sleep,” seems to say more than it even intends in terms of working class blues.

They cap with “20 Year Old Idiot,” which seems to compare whoever it’s about to an idiot 10 years their senior and judge them to be pretty much the same, and one last urge to motion in “Song of Evil,” as Conner‘s bullhorn-esque vocals and his scorching guitar lead seem to both be delivering the identical message — last call, folks. So be it. RPG have, by then, left the room with its ass thoroughly kicked — I imagine a basement venue somewhere in deep downtown Manhattan or, just maybe, The Continental with its shot specials and Bingo working the front door — and have made their point. Their rhythm and forward drive are straight out of classic punk, but their tones come from more of a heavy rock kind of place, like they grew up and decided to buy some better gear. Also to write songs. And whatever else Full Time does in leaving tire tracks across its listeners’ heads, it does have songs. The quality of RPG‘s material, of the guitar interplay between Conner and Partin, of not just the speed but the character of groove from Brown and Marunde, helps to keep it as relevant now as when it was released, if not more so, given the fact that, though a new audience generation has come up in the interim, that generation is now established in much the same way the prior one was by 2004 when RPG came along. I remember when Full Time first came out thinking it was a little more punk than I really wanted. I guess maybe I grew into it since then.

RPG put out long-players in 2008’s Worth the Weight and 2012’s High Loathsome, both of which had some longer songs — the opening track on the latter was over five minutes! — and a bit more of a stylistically dynamic approach, but that wasn’t really what Full Time was about. Full Time was and still is about getting in, smashing up the place, and getting back out again. There’s no pretense otherwise and there doesn’t need to be. It’s an exceptionally efficient delivery and for as much beer as the album seems to down, it’s remarkably clearheaded along its path. At least mostly. By their once-every-four-years pace, RPG are two years overdue for a fourth album and I’m not actually sure what their status is as their social medias hasn’t been updated since they celebrated their 15th anniversary with a Hardywood Park beer release in 2015 — the RPG IPA was a dark ale with 7 percent ABV that did pretty well in Beer Advocate — playing a show at the brewery in Richmond. If you were forcing me to guess what they’ve been up to since, I’d probably say, I don’t know, life? The kind of life that doesn’t require an update on Thee Facebooks?

Good for them, I suppose. Or hope. Either way, Full Time still holds up, and as always, I hope you enjoy.

Thanks for reading.

—

Rough week. Most of it was a blur, but a rough blur. The Patient Mrs., The Pecan, The Little Dog Dio and I left New Jersey yesterday afternoon to sit in traffic en route to Connecticut, and we won’t be back until at least probably Aug. 21. This coming week is Psycho Las Vegas and because the flight was booked super-early and I didn’t know we’d be staying in NJ basically the whole summer, I’m flying out of Boston. So we came here to stay for a couple days and then will head north in time for me to fly out on Thursday at like 6:40AM or whatever it is. Early. Not like I won’t be up, but still. That’s early for taking your shoes off at security and all that rigmarole.

Whatever. At the end of that process is Psycho Las Vegas, though I’ve no idea how to get from the airport to the hotel. I suck at that kind of thing. Planes land right on the strip now, right? “Uh, pilot? Please stop at the Hard Rock. Thanks.” Or maybe they have one of those buttons you push on the bus to request a stop. “Roll out the inflatable slide; this is where I get off.” I’ll sort it out. Or maybe I’ll get lost and wander off into the desert, never to be heard from again. If that happens, it’s been real.

Of course, with that massive festival ahead, that will dominate next week’s schedule, but there are news and videos and premieres and stuffs besides that need to get posted, so here’s a look at the subject-to-change-duh notes:

Mon.: Tour dates for Earth Ship & Rising presented by The Obelisk; Sons of Alpha Centauri video.
Tue.: Some review; Fuzz Forward video.
Wed.: Backwoods Payback video premiere/review; Son of the Morning video.
Thu: Spacetrucker album stream/review; Vision Éternel video.
Fri.: Psycho Las Vegas review
Sat.: Psycho Las Vegas review
Sun.: Psycho Las Vegas review
Mon.: Psycho Las Vegas review

Since I travel Monday, I’ll probably take Tuesday off if I can or use it to finish whatever I don’t of the review of Psycho Sunday. We’ll see. I’ll sort it all out. It’s my first time at Psycho, but hardly my first time covering a festival. I have no doubt it’ll be a good time and I’ll have plenty to say about it. Things like, “Vegas is a capitalist cesspool but golly I sure do like riffs and air conditioning!” Review over.

Well, it’s after six and the sun’s up, which means the baby will be soon as well, so I better punch out. I hope you have a great and safe weekend. If you’re going to Psycho, I’ll see you there — I’m the guy with the hippie pants and the cosmic backpack because I’m pushing 40 and just don’t care anymore about anything other than max comfort at any given time — and otherwise, I hope you enjoy the coverage if you get to check any of it out.

Thanks again for reading and please don’t forget the forum and radio stream.

The Obelisk Forum

The Obelisk Radio

Amplified Heat, How Do You Like the Sound of That (2007)

The lesson here is simple: If you can chase down Amplified Heat records, do it. They’re not always the most politically correct of bands, but chances are that they can out-boogie just about anyone else in the room. Based in Austin, Texas, and comprised of brothers Jim Ortiz (guitar and vocals), Gian Ortiz (bass and backing vocals) and Chris Ortiz (drums), Amplified Heat stand among the most powerful of power trios I’ve ever had the pleasure to see grace a stage, and it’s a no-brainer to consider them one of the most underrated classically styled rock bands active on any level. I mean, we’re talking Radio Moscow-level good. Boogie as a frantic, manic-expression of raw thrust. You can hear it even in the acoustic/handclap tomfoolery of “Moonshine” on their second long-player, How Do You Like the Sound of That, which Arclight Records released in 2007, let alone in dirt-rocking scorchers like “What Went Wrong,” the quick drum-solo blast of “S.A.P.O.,” the ultra-catchy “Rambler” or the later title-track with its channel-swapping lead work over blown-out cymbal wash. Pure fucking righteousness, front to back.

When one considers this record came out a decade ago, right around the same time Graveyard were making their debut, and it’s Amplified Heat‘s second outing behind their 2003 self-titled EP and the next year’s debut long-player, In for Sin (also on Arclight), the context becomes even more intriguing. But Amplified Heat have always been more concerned with being behind their time than ahead of it. In their construction, in their raw presentation and in their base of influence, they’re a true ’70s-inspired outfit, seemingly ready for private-press vinyl at a moment’s notice, and even as it starts out with the time-to-kick-ass threats of “Tough Guy” and gets all sloppy with your ladyfriend in the groovy “Man on the Road,” it does so with such a command of songwriting and performance that it’s hard to do anything other than go along with it. Their earlier work on the EP and In for Sin was more formative, but How Do You Like the Sound of That is more than confident — that’s not to say arrogant — enough in its swagger to live up to the challenge its title poses. The Ortiz brothers come along with this bluesy attitude in “She Drank that Wine” and the comedown closer “Sickness,” and on first listen, it seems like their greatest asset might be the energy of their delivery, but the truth of the matter is it’s their underlying core of songwriting that sustains them. Not only do they pack this punch in their sound, but the songs eek their way into your head. “Rambler?” “Through and Through?” Even the instrumental shuffle of the penultimate “Amplified Boogie” seems to have a hook, and the Ortizes make them all work to their advantage throughout the record’s still-quick 36-minute rush.

Again, it can be a tough one to keep up with, but if you need to listen twice, Amplified Heat more than earn that with the quality of the work itself, and the subtle twists of arrangement that find them working from all-out Blue Cheer worship into the slow-ride nod of “Through and Through,” with acoustic guitar layered in even under the torn-through solo at the finish. When they seem to be a garage band, they’re pulling the wool over your eyes so they can blindside you with the next round of heavy fuzz, grab your drink and guzzle it on the quick while you’re not looking. It’s like that. Hey, they’re on a budget, and beer’s not cheap in Austin these days.

To my knowledge, it’s been a minute since they got out and properly toured, but they remain active playing shows around their hometown — the social medias shows them on stage next month with Corky Laing’s Mountain and Duel, and that seems like appropriate enough company (event page is here). Their most recent studio work came in the form of 2011’s On the Hunt, which refined the craftsmanship on display throughout How Do You Like the Sound of That in memorable tracks like “Dirty Love, No Romance” and “Give it to Me,” but yeah, the bottom line when it comes to Amplified Heat is that there aren’t nearly as many people worshiping at their altar as there probably should be. I don’t know if they’ve got another record in the works or what — six years later, you’d obviously call them due — but you definitely wouldn’t hear me complain if one happened to show up.

Until then, if you know these cats, I hope you dig the chance to revisit, and if you don’t, I hope you dig their particular brand of push ‘n’ swing. As much boogie rock as is out there nowadays, few groups do it so well or with as much conviction as Amplified Heat. And they were doing it a decade ago.

In any case, I hope you enjoy, as always.

—

It’s the morning. Some cinnamon-flavored protein powder in my coffee doing me right as we approach 6AM. In a little bit, I’ll have to get up, put on real pants — those real pants, over there — and drive to work. Then, as though in preemptive penance for the two days off I’m about to enjoy over the weekend, I’ll have to drive back.

Rest assured, I’d much rather stay here, in my pajamas, and casually sip my coffee on the couch alongside the sleepy Little Dog Dio. Yesterday was her 11th birthday. She celebrated with a beef marrow bone. We celebrated with crust-less pesto quiche and sauteed spinach on the side. I cooked extra garlic for my spinach in chili powder and red pepper flakes. It was glorious. Shaved parmesan cheese and coarse-grated black pepper everywhere.

And yes, if you’re wondering, my making and eating cooked spinach is the result of an inspiration I brought back from this year’s Roadburn fest. Roadburn always changes you. This year, it changed me into someone who loves cooked spinach.

This week started off pretty rough. Enough so that I got a note in response to the photo captions, which happens rarely enough for me to pretend that no one reads them (this is just fine by me). I’m hoping that today will bring it to an at-least-innocuous end and I can affect some kind of mental reset on Saturday and Sunday. Part of it is being down post-Roadburn. Part of it is work — knowing that I’m losing my current job next month and still having to go every day is a drag. There’s other stuff too.

I’ve spent a lot of time over the years embracing the idea of caveats, of obstacles. “If only X, then Y,” where X is some pain in my ass and Y is living with a reasonable sense of contentment about myself and/or my situation. “If only I made more money, then I’d be fine.” “If only I had time to write, I’d be set,” and so on. The harder truth? The issue isn’t some circumstance in my way. The issue is I’m a miserable bastard. I always have been and I always will be. There’s always going to be something. It’s inescapable. If it’s not obvious like “golly, I sure would feel better about my day if I wasn’t about to be shitcanned,” then rest assured, I’ll dig through until I find something else. I’m the problem.

Time for meds? Maybe. Hitting that point is usually a pretty good sign we’ve arrived there. Meds make you gain weight — not that the occasional bit of quiche doesn’t — which terrifies me, but yeah, we’ll see. Maybe if I’m on meds I won’t care. Ha. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment next Thursday to have blood drawn for a general checkup, so maybe I’ll be like, “Hey, so I’d like to drive into the median on the way home. Something we can do about this?”

Anyway, one presses through because that’s what one does. I’m not gonna sit here on my couch with my snoring dog listening to dreamy psychedelic rock and pretend I have it the hardest anyone has ever had it.

Here’s what’s in my notes for next week, subject to change as always:

Mon.: Yagow full album stream/review. This one’s a gem. Also Hermitess video.
Tue.: Causa Sui live album review. Doing myself a favor. Also Big Kizz video.
Wed.: Six Dumb Questions with Vokonis. Also PH video.
Thu.: Samsara Blues Experiment interview. Might also have a track premiere.
Fri.: Second Coming of Heavy review and whatever else comes along.

Full week. Monday and Tuesday are already packed for news and whatnot as well, so you know. We keep busy over here.

I hope you have a great and safe weekend. Thanks for reading, for checking in this week if you did, and for continuing to support this site. We’re about to get back to a place where The Obelisk is all I’ve got again, at least for a couple months, so expect some gushing about how much your ongoing involvement in this project means to me. Because it means an awful lot. Thank you.

Talk soon. Forum and Radio.

The Obelisk Forum

The Obelisk Radio