Rack Monkey swinging from the 7" shelves

19/10/02

There's a certain reverse snobbery that blights 'limited edition' releases (thanks mainly to cynical dance labels stuffing chain stores with advance promos to snare spotty DJ fantasists). But if they're limited for a good reason, some nuggets are satisfying to own - so it is with NY-based songwriter and cartoonist Jeffrey Lewis' Graveyard. Call it endearing or self-absorbed, but his releases tend to come with a self-penned comic. About himself. Mercifully these are executed with dry, self-deprecating wit: this instalment sees Jeffrey invited on tour by Geoff Travis, only to blow his advance on the high life and spend five years scrubbing dishes to earn it back when the Rough Trade accountants catch up with him. Anyone that puts this much effort into what they're selling us is OK by the Monkey, and the wryly eloquent, bohemian city folk (geddit?) of Graveyard seals the deal. Imagine the Moldy Peaches grow up, grow ponytails, buy berets and move in with Bill Waterson. 500 for the world - nab one if you see it. www.nowherefastrecords.com Trumping Lewis in the handmade packaging stakes, though, are Vince Mole and his Calcium Orchestra, who are absolutely bloody lo-fi and have the glued-and-folded paper inlay to prove it. Nothing is an unremarkable early Sebadoh,

downtempo Sonic Youth sort of a romp, consummately fuzzy and filled out with a relentless, distorted throb from Chris Parfitt's synth. Look out for the can-play-but-can't-be-arsed guitar solo - it's J Mascilicious. On the flip It's Raining In My Mouth jangles like, er, a jangly Sebadoh song, while The Room Song…oh, you know. A fine investment if you like that sort of thing. www.HHBTM.com Moving into more commercial territory (they're on Domino, you know), Scottish unpredictables V-Twin are in typically caustic mood, striking the pompous, spandex-clad pose that is still catapulting bafflingly mediocre definite-article abusers to the top of the style barometer. Nothing quite so reductive from the well-connected duo, though - there's a nice breakdown in the middle for some fluttering trumpet arpeggios, and the horn sticks around after the guitars and singalong chorus ("when you get that suspicious feeling…call a meeting") bust back in, giving Call A Meeting at least one USP over its immediate peers. Is there a bad band in Glasgow? Answers on a postcard please. www.dominorecordco.com Three 7"s gone and not a sampler in sight - it strikes the Monkey that those who aren't about to rock are getting a bum deal. In the absence of a salute we give you the lilt and skip of Sybarite's Scene of the Crime, which heralds a much glossier package then messers Lewis, Mole and Twin managed. Warbly synths and plodding (in a good way, mind) guitar bolster the earthy, hot-lipped lass on vocal duties, while mainman Xian Hawkins provides the necessary pops, glitches and chattering snares to convince us that Sybarite know their Radian as well as their Ruby. And, pleasantly enough, it sells at a measly quid. Limited editions are all very well, but seeing four-fifths his fiver bounce back over the counter will do the tight-fisted simian nicely. www.4ad.com www.the-echo.com/ Talk about these reviews on our forum now. Previous Rack Monkeys: September 2002 August 2002 July 2002

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