Ugly Stick Pick up the hatchet

Huh? You missed Ugly Stick the first time they came around? You never got a copy of their first home produced cassette tape? What were you doing in 1989 that was so important? Well, no matter, now you get a chance to make up for lost time by picking up this reissue to see you missed. What did you miss? Ramshackle doesn't quite describe it. It's rough is what it is. Really rough. Given the slickness of even the most low budget productions churned out like widgets today, the experience of listening to Ugly Stick can be jarring. It's like your 19 and you just walked into their basement during band practice, shag carpeting on the floor, bad prints on the wall, the slight hint of mildew in the air.

But I'll say one thing for these guys - they're clever. Take the opener on 1991's Shaved, Salome. "Cut off my head and put it on your golden tray", it goes, through generous helpings of tape hiss (thankfully it doesn't sound like the recording was "cleaned up" by studio wizards). Kind of an unexepected reference for a bunch of young punks. Elsewhere a healthy lack of seriousness shows through, as on Lettuce Farm, which is the height of absurdity. And who would see Lightuohse coming, a surf-doowop instrumental? They never rise above the level of spirited amateurism, which starts to become a virtue after a while. You start to try and pick out the mumbling conversations and noise going on before, during and after songs. And you'll wonder when the hell Jug Day is, when you're "normal bank is closed". The whole thing is pleasantly ridiculous and quite often the songs are catchy enough to make you overlook the shoddy timing and strained harmonies. And despite the lack of professionalism, It's music made in the best spirit of rock and roll, which basically means young guys performing as soon as they attain passable competency on their instruments. All they hve is heart and their wits, and that can be enough. It isn't always enough on these two collections, but they never lack for enthusiasm, and that warms the cockles.

It does make you wonder what was in the air around this time, with Nirvana brewing and the whole grunge thing waiting to break. I was sentient in 1989 and I can tell you there was nothing on the radio remotely approaching this kind of punk puritanism. Obviously a bunch of kids were keeping it alive and this collection survives as a document of the time when punk went way, way underground.