Bad Vision’s new album, Turn Out Your Sockets, opens with the track Very Melbourne, and it’s salivatingly good. There’s drumming straight from the James Baker college of primal rhythms, a mesmerising Ramones-meets-Feelies guitar riff and slacker-on-speed lyrics. It sucks you in, slaps you around, pours beer on your head and gives you a rollicking punk rock ride.
But could that just be a fluke? Shit no. Heavy Boy is power pop in a Chesty Bonds singlet; Swallow is a lazy Sunday afternoon sunbake after the shabby night before, with a hint of the grimy edge of LA rock over the horizon; Fairweather is The Trilobites for the modern generation; Shitspeak is all snotty Cleveland attitude and scatological vernacular; and Flick Flack has the sharp-edged sophistication of the Descendents in Socratic dialogue with the Dead Kennedys.
You can hear a bit of X’s Dipstick somewhere in Blah Blah Blah, that is until it’s drowned out by the diffident lyrical musings. Don’t Don’t is a cautionary warning for anyone tempted to stray from any one of the true rock’n’roll paths and embrace insipid FM music that’ll turn your brain into blancmange. Mind the Gap is snarly and snappy, a dangerous night out with The Leftovers that leaves a smile on your face and scars on your body. Then there’s Sleep Standing Up, all Go-Gos punk pop licks, subtle harmonies and general good times.
The great thing about rock’n’roll is that on any one night, it’s the best fucking thing in the world. And when it’s on the stereo, Turn Out Your Sockets could be the best rock’n’roll record around.
BY PATRICK EMERY
