The Freaks' first album was in my top 10 of 2012. While their second longplayer didn't grab me at first, that didn't last long. "Two" really sank in after a few listenings and the single-word titled compositions have a whole lotta punch. As mentioned before, they sometimes drink from the same well as Eddy Current Suppression with the jittery guitar and big bass-lines but there's a fieriness, as well. A gnarled mesh, a repetitive throb that will work its way into your brain. "Game" is whirling, jabbing head-messer with some wah-wah pyrotechnics. A few of the tracks brought Nirvana to mind, believe it or not--"Salvation," for instance, rides a similar riff as that band's "Mr. Moustache" and "Friend" is also rockin' in a 90s sort of way--and that's not meant to be a pan, either. No mope, just muscle and it's a volume-drenched journey. (www.subvox.blogspot.com)
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If Iggy Pop looked less like a catcher’s mitt and more like a tattooed shit-disturber with a beer gut. If the Stooges played spastic punk at breakneck speeds. If they all still had the early energy of the Funhouse days. Then maybe they could hold a candle to these Hamilton punks’ live performance. This record sounds and feels just like that. I dare you to stay calm. (www.weirdcanada.com)
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The first time I saw TV Freaks, frontman Dave O’Connor was covered head to toe in winter clothes. As they played he undressed himself in the typical manner of a proper frontman. Only made brilliantly absurd by the amount of the set it took to get completely down to his briefs. The memory itself is a great metaphor for the band and their sound. Bratty, smart, fun and cool. Sure, I’m gushing– but it’s the honest truth.
TV Freaks are a modern punk band in the best way. They’re aware of their roots and wear them on their sleeves, but they’ve no pretensions to the idea that punk is some kind of revolutionary force here to right the wrongs of music. It’s just good tunes played the way they want, because, that’s how they’re gonna play ‘em bud.
With TWO, TV Freaks explore their influences without venturing too far off the path they’ve been carving for themselves. Album opener “Rewind” clocks in at just under four minutes making it the longest track. Starting with a blistering guitar riff reminiscent of Hot Snakes, and a Danko Jones like swagger, it sets the tone for the album. From there they fly through another twelve rippers. Ranging from snotty brash songs like “Knife”, that bring to mind earlier TV Freaks releases, to the slinky Flipper-esque “Pusher”, that oozes with half sarcastic commentary on drug dealers.
The band expands their repertoire with “Phone” and it’s hints of angular post punk along the lines of Drive Like Jehu.And “Salvation” with a noisey opening riff that sounds like it’s coming from a busted car stereo or an early Nirvana b-side, exploding into a swirling riff that is both dizzying and driving. The album closes with “Think” starting fast and punchy like all great punk songs. The overlapping vocals make it claustrophobic enhancing the message of the lyrics, only to give way to an epic ending that wouldn’t be out of place on a Do Make Say Think record.
I could probably reference another 100 bands to try to properly explain TWO, and that’s because the TV Freaks aren’t unwittingly creating a new genre of music. These guys have had the benefit of growing up with four decades of punk rock. Listeners get to reap the spoils, in the form of a well written album that picks and chooses from it’s influences with gleeful delight. (www.southernsouls.ca)
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Frenetic garage punk from Ontario, Canada. I emphasize the punk because this isn’t your skinny tie power pop or ’60s Nuggets revival: The garage feel comes from the lo-fi production, but underneath the grime TV FREAKS’ angst and bile owe more to Damaged-era BLACK FLAG than the SONICS. Great stuff. (MRR)
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It’s hard not to revert to clichés when writing about Hamilton’s TV Freaks, because all the appropriate adjectives – loud, snotty, fast, pissed-off – tend to be used to describe punk itself. But that’s often the mark of a good punk release: as archetypal as those qualities seem, they’re not easy to translate outside a sweaty, beer-sprayed basement, let alone over a full-length (hence why there are so many classic punk singles and so few LPs).
You can get a taste of their frantic, unhinged live show at nowtoronto.com, where the band covered the Viletones classic Screaming Fist, but what’s impressive is how well the record contains that energy on 27 anxious minutes of wax. Two is bursting with in-the-red treble, crunchy riffs and brash yet tuneful vocal cord abuse courtesy of David O’Connor (check his phlegmy cough at the end of Phone), but it’s also tight, refined and fun. You can practically feel their saliva hitting your face. (www.nowtoronto.com)
