Coachwhips
Peanut Butter and Jelly Live at the Ginger Minge (Narnack)
Reviewed by Michelle Valdez, Fri., March 18, 2005
Coachwhips
Peanut Butter and Jelly Live at the Ginger Minge (Narnack)
The Coachwhips' third release wins soundtrack of the year for anticlimactic sex. Perhaps there's a hidden subtext to this latest mess melted onto its musical landscape by these California wing nuts. John Dwyer, ex-Pink & Brown, ululates about his corpus and lame parties with enough libation to choke a jackalope. His musical counterparts follow the bleeder [insert photos of post-show injuries] in a simpleton's cadence that leaves the new material sounding flat and redundant. The trio practically breaks bones live, but that heat lacks kindling here. Cutie keyboards pop up through the droning, catatonic timekeeping. Matt Hartman, just because you're a drummer doesn't mean you have to be a metronome. Unlike previous recordings like 2003's Get Yer Body Next ta Mine, Coachwhips covet a reliable, freight train approach and derail. Now back to the secret subtext. "Peanut butter" is significant. In the days of yore, the word "butt" meant the measurement of 126 gallons of liquid (usually beer) or two hogs' heads. Now add "Ginger Minge" and "Jelly." Coachwhips want you to listen when you're three sheets to the wind and another butt past the hooch. (Saturday, March 19, 1:15am @ Velvet Spade Patio)
