Little You Little Me
I'd Watch the Day Til It Died
Monopolized - 2015
Little You Little Me have been blasting the eardrums of punters out on the east coast since at least 2009. The foursome of guitarists Gavin Downes and Corey Bonnevie, bassist Geoff Smith and drummer Michael Milburn honed those gritty guitar chops in the "industrial fog" of Saint John (NB), taking their cues from the likes of Eric's Trip and Thrush Hermit along with equal doses of metal and indie rock, with (thankfully to these hoary ears) a good dollop of seventies punk for good measure.
On their sophomore long-player, I'd Watch the Day Til It Died, there is much to like for fans of the aforementioned genres, especially those who take their tea loud and lo-fi. Like any indie rocker worth his or her record store cred, frontman Bonnevie took great pains to highlight the record's alt/analogue assets. "It's too expensive to record completely on tape, so the whole process was a combination of using tape saturation and digital manipulation," he explained to CM. "We tried to keep things live feeling, so most of it we recorded with the monitors blaring and having things bleed."
Unsurprisingly, I'd Watch the Day...'s two strongest songs happen to be the one-sheet's recommended tracks (which, being the diligent cratedigging journo that we all are up here at Canuckistan Music, I only discovered after giving the disc a thorough listening). The opener, the cleverly named 'Fuckushima', kicks things off with a bit of sludgy faux-metal before swiftly ripping into some fast and furious old-school punk (that secretly cops a riff or two from the Damned's 'Neat, Neat, Neat') and then morphing into some rather convincing surf-punk...all in the span of about three minutes. And the single, 'Racket in My Brain', is exactly that, a devilishly catchy slab of rock and roll that captures the raunchy, no-holds-barred abandon that was so much a part of punk's first wave. Fans of the Fall will dig that one for sure.
Little You Little Me
Alone and Gone: The Story of Toronto's Post Punk Underground
The Soul Motivators
Free to Believe