Duck & Cover – “Two Shots”
Looking up the definition of “Duck & Cover” I learned that it was related to the threat of nuclear attack and was taught to grade school children in the fifties and sixties.
I was in grade school in the sixties. I was taught this. I don’t think we, the kids, grasped the concept though as I read about it now.
From what I now understand, we were taught to “duck” to avoid falling debris and “cover” our head and face from the blast of radiation.
I just recall it being related to a possible attack by the Russians. I don’t think our teachers wanted to unnecessarily scare us, putting thoughts of falling bombs in our young minds.
I was part of of the crew that divvied up the milk cartons to go to the classrooms. (My first job?). I remember having a daydream of invading Russian air crafts landing in our school yard and my crew hurling milk cartons at the invaders.
Thankfully, for the Russians, this never took place. As their milk sodden faces would have had to beat a hasty, embarrassing retreat!
But Duck & Cover, the local band, is certainly providing us with some explosive music.
Get ready to duck your head from some blasting rock’n’roll and cover your head from some scorching hot guitar!
(Or, better yet, cover your eyes from reading some reviewer’s corny hyperbole!)
But keep your ears open to a great band that finds the perfect spot between melodic punk and classic rock’n’roll to work in and proceeds to more than deliver the goods.
Let’s move closer to that spot right now:
With a tom-tom beating drum, bashing rhythms and some sick, snarling guitars, “Two Shots” is served up- clean, with no chaser. But with a whole lot of slammin’, smashin’ rock/ pop/ punk/ garage ram-a-llama. The vocals start all nicely, melodic and then switches into the sneering, spitting sound of an agitated drunk (but with a heaping dose of passion and grit). “Each time you kiss me, it’s like two poisoned shots of whiskey.” So what? You’re gonna die, anyway? But you’ll go out lovin’ and buzzed. After a great rhythm guitar part, this song erupts into a spacey guitar solo then returns to lyrics that grabs you by the space below your belt. “Every time you say you miss us, stick a jagged knife in my guts- bleed someone else.” You can stick as many songs in my ears, as many that can fit, that are as good as this one.
“Bleeding Edge” starts with another driving beat and a cool, melodic guitar lick and lyrics with some words I have to look up- “Equivocate, sanguine.” But it also has lyrics pertaining to someone who’s living the lost life, “You’re party to your self-destruct…self-medication finds you fallin’ to the floors. Sorry- to say my dear, you’re fucked.” But you’re not fucked, by any means, hearing a song as rockin’ as this tune with such a great, fucking ending.
There’s an eighties new wave feel that gleams over the beginning of this song with its’ pounding drums, harmonic guitar licks and echo-ey vocals. The “oh-oh-wooh’s” at the end of lines reminds me of Joey Ramone while the chorus makes me think of The Sweet. Some nice production on all three songs, especially here. The nice, dual guitar work harks back to classic rock but, as with all the songs, the grit and uneasiness of the vocals leans more towards punk rock. This song builds with energy and intensity and is really rockin’ out by the end. A suitably great end to a great EP.
I was tempted to lump Duck & Cover in with OC45 and Loser’s Circle as the best of Boston’s local melodic/punk rock bands.
But they have too much of the classic Boston punk/garage in their music to be categorized with those bands. And I recognize this, because, after surviving the possible nuclear holocaust in the sixties, I also survived the musical holocaust of punk in the seventies and eighties, as well.
Plus, this band has a lot of classic rock in their music and I’m not referring to the lame stuff but, more so, of the kick ass rockin’ variety.
And I don’t have the space to quibble about who that means but I will state that Duck & Cover has the energy and pissed off, snottiness of punk, the crunch and wallop of garage rock along with swing and punch of rock’n’roll.
Can I add the melodic brashness of glam, too?
No- I can’t? Then…
“Sorry to say my dear- then you’re fucked. Guardrails ain’t gonna stop you spinning off the ledge.”
(Slimedog)
