23 underrated Touch And Go albums

Touch and Go Records

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The music industry as a whole, and the Chicago music scene specifically, took a big hit last week when venerated record label Touch And Go announced it would be downsizing, no longer issuing new music, and shutting down its distribution services. In honor of Touch & Go's uncertain future, Decider salutes the unsung heroes of the venerated record label's catalog.

The Fix, Jan’s Rooms (1981)
Overshadowed by such early Touch And Go legends as the Necros and Negative Approach, Lansing, Mich.’s The Fix blazed through their Jan’s Rooms EP with a ferocity unmatched by the majority of its peers. And while the band managed to touch upon such tried-and-true early ’80s punk themes as class politics (“Cos The Elite”) and Cold War paranoia (“Off to War”), its take on corporate greed—“Truth Right Now”—remains remarkably relevant. When Steve Miller roars “Power overruns me conspiracy so plain / Nobody'd warn me no profits bein' claimed / Little bits of wisdom we read but don't write down / I wanna hear the truth right now,” it’s easy to believe he’s talking about Bear Stearns circa 2008.

Henry Rollins, Sweatbox (1989)
Henry Rollins’ third spoken-word release, fittingly titled Sweatbox, is a double album packed with intense punk-rock pontification. Culled from performances in 1987 and 1988, just after Black Flag dissolved, the album finds Rollins waxing quasi-poetic on subjects like touring, Nietzche, masturbation, and Santa Cruz cops. Audiophiles might demur—all of the sets were recorded on a Walkman—and the story quality varies, but there’s something invigorating about hearing Rollins as a young man. He's rough around the edges and spinning yarns about a scene that’s all but ceased to exist.

Laughing Hyenas, Life Of Crime (1990)
Led by former Negative Approach mouthpiece John Brannon and the late, underrated guitarist Larissa Strickland, Laughing Hyenas convened in the mid-’80s and began pumping out a sludgy, grinding noise that’s surely one of the unsung pioneers of grunge. When that genre came into its own in 1990, the Hyenas unleashed their crowning achievement: Life Of Crime, one of the most bleary-eyed and belligerent albums Touch And Go ever produced. Overlooked at the time and all but forgotten now, Crime remains raw and jarring like a crowbar to the skull.

The Didjits, Hornet Pinata (1991)
At a time when indie-rock seemed asexual at best—and completely neutered at worst—The Didjits’ frontman Rick Sims exuded confidence and sexuality, and Hornet Pinata captures Sims at his greasy finest. This often-overlooked album puts Sims’ prowess on display as both a guitarist (see: “Captain Ahab”) and lyricist (see: Sims’ warped tale of a one-legged drug dealer in “Lone Lone Ranger”). It all comes together on tracks like “Killboy Powerhead,” a straight-ahead, catchy rock song that rocks in a decidedly non-ironic, incredibly fun way. The vocals and riffs provided by Rick Sims on Hornet undoubtedly helped lay the groundwork for a new generation of underground artists, who came to embrace unadulterated rock by the end of the decade.


Silverfish, Fat Axl (1990)
Like a latter-day, lady-fronted Birthday Party, England’s Silverfish drips acidic menace and throbs with bass lines that might have been produced somewhere deep in Satan’s intestinal tract. On the group’s debut full-length, Fat Axl—the title a reference to a live review of the band in which leader Lesley Rankine was likened to “a fat Axl Rose”—the group mixes mutant-blues riffs and gouts of feedback into some sick symphony of hate, fear, humor, sex, and noise. After Silverfish’s breakup in 1993, Rankine continued making slightly more subdued music under the name Ruby.

Pegboy, Strong Reaction (1991)
Released on the Touch & Go imprint Quarterstick, Pegboy’s debut full-length made a splash in the punk scene—not surprising, seeing as how the band featured former members of Chicago heavy-hitters Naked Raygun and Effigies. But instead of sounding like an ’80s throwback, Strong Reaction is one of the most timely punk records ever made. Savagely earnest and viciously simple, the disc is the epitome of Midwest, meat-and-potatoes punk-rock—and yet still manages to sound more aching and emotive than a whole Warped Tour full of today’s emo bands.


Big Boys, The Skinny Elvis and The Fat Elvis (1993)
Big Boys are justly revered by the kind of people who buy Touch And Go’s records, but as that demographic ages, the Texas band’s proponents grow quieter. The group was a staple of the punk scene in the late ’70s and ’80s, though it didn’t fit the sound’s template. Much like The Minutemen in California, Big Boys never obeyed punk’s stylistic restraints—funk, soul, and R&B were all represented along with punk and post-punk. These two compilations, both released in 1993, collect all of the band’s long out-of-print records and singles with engrossing, extensive liner notes.


Mule, Mule (1993)
Glass-gargling frontman and searing blues licks aside, the Laughing Hyenas’ legend owed just as much to the band’s thunderous, neck-snapping rhythm section. Mule formed when the Hyenas’ Jim Kimball (drums) and Kevin Munro (bass) teamed with singer/guitarist P.W. Long, whose slurring drawl and mastery of Southern-fried electric guitar belied the fact that he grew up in the Motor City. Clearly, Long also grew up with an ear cocked to post-punk, and the twang and thud on Mule benefits from that experience when the frontman mainlines his lean blues riffs with repeated shots of Gang Of Four-style skronk.

Shellac, The Rude Gesture (A Pictorial History) (1993)
Touch And Go has no bigger proponent than Steve Albini of Shellac, which released its first 7-inch on the label in 1993. The Rude Gesture followed the same year, and “Billiard Player Song” remains one of Shellac’s finest moments. Although the group was still young at the time, the song perfectly captures all of the elements that define Shellac’s sound: Todd Trainer’s booming drums; Bob Weston’s prowling bassline; and Albini’s tinny, abrasive guitar and semi-sung vocals. The lyrics about the evil acts men do—“He lied to her / He lied to her with a perfectly straight face / She believed him”—would become one of Albini’s favorite topics, and this song became a fan favorite. It remains a staple of Shellac’s live sets.


Tar, Toast (1993)
Like its frequent tour partner Helmet, Tar specializes in minimalist, watch-precise noise-rock—a trait that made both bands standouts on the din-embracing Amphetamine Reptile label in the early '90s. By the time it signed with Touch And Go, however, Tar had excised the noisier elements from its sound, revealing on Toast (its first proper album for the label) an affinity for melody and barbed hooks. Toast polarized the band’s already-meager fan base, and Tar disbanded two years after its release. Helmet, meanwhile, steadily embraced Toast-style ideas during its major-label stint—and wound up playing arenas as a result.


Arcwelder, Xerxes (1994)
Arcwelder came on in the mid-’90s like a latter-day Hüsker Dü, with a drummer who handled certain lead-vocal duties and an ear for melodies of the kind that Hüsker Dü made palatable for punk on albums like Warehouse: Songs And Stories. From the prim graphic-design on the cover of Xerxes to their readiness to launch into tender falsetto, the members of Arcwelder sounded unusually emotive and exacting within their realm.


Killdozer, Uncompromising War On Art Under The Dictatorship Of The Proletariat (1994)
Killdozer’s gruff, noise-saturated exterior played host to many subtleties, most prominently the band’s ability to balance well-informed leftist politics with a side-splittingly lowbrow sense of humor. A career high on all fronts, Uncompromising is a ragtag but immensely catchy collection of populist anthems that might be send-ups—and one ballad, “Knuckles The Dog (Who Helps People),” is not a send-up. It reportedly reduced The Jesus Lizard’s David Yow to tears.

Don Caballero, Don Caballero 2 (1995)
Don Caballero’s 1993 debut album, For Respect, established the Pittsburgh group as a math-rock presence to watch—but with Don Caballero 2, Don Cab effectively took over the genre, blueprinting a template whose heft, grace, and complexity have yet to be eclipsed. Dueling across speaker channels, guitarists Mike Banfield and Ian Williams (now of Battles) trade licks that are alternately dense and algebraic, while drummer Damon Che, channeling Buddy Rich via Alex Van Halen (complete with rototoms) reaches new heights in independent limb coordination. This is as powerful—and as patience-testing—as math-rock gets.

Effigies, Remains Nonviewable (1995)
The East and West Coasts may have defined American hardcore, but the Effigies (and the equally important Naked Raygun) hammered it into something weighty, pragmatic—in other words, Midwestern. This Remains Nonviewable reissue collects most of the Chicago band’s pre-2004-reunion output, and, in the process, documents the Effigies’ evolution from a scrappy, feral hardcore band into a serious rock unit, whose grasp of melody, brute force, and brainpower proved so influential that Steve Albini (who contributed to Remains’ liner notes) and Metallica both gave props.

Man Or Astro-Man?, Live Transmissions From Uranus (1995)
Surf revivalists Man Or Astro-Man? never played it straight. In addition to the title of this 1995 album, there were similarly silly song titles (“Man From F.U.C.K.Y.O.U.”), member pseudonyms (Coco The Electronic Monkey Wizard, Birdstuff, Captain Zero), and kitschy sci-fi stage decoration. To ramp up the nerd factor, Uranus even includes a cover of the Mystery Science Theater 3000 theme (Joel version). On a label full of abrasive, intense bands, Man…Or Astro-Man? provided necessary levity.


Seam, Are You Driving Me Crazy? (1995)
Bitch Magnet leader Sooyoung Park carried over his band’s knack for abrasive melody when he formed Seam in 1991—only he sanded down the abrasion and beefed up the melody, a process of refinement that culminated in 1995’s Are You Driving Me Crazy?. Pulsing, mesmerizing, and achingly gentle, the album was at the time one of the wimpiest Touch And Go releases, but its quiet, crashing strength hasn’t diminished over the years, nor has its heart-stopping ability to turn ocean-sized guitars into the stuff of whispers.


Brainiac, Electro-Shock For President (1997)
It's easy to get lost in the shadow of Brainiac's arguably perfect 1996 full-length Hissing Prigs In Static Couture: It’s a six-song EP, half of which is made up of glitchy, droning electronic compositions. But the EP's other tracks—the one-two opening punch of "Fresh New Eyes" and "Flash Ram" as well as closer "Mr. Fingers"—rank up there with the best Hissing Prigs has to offer, if not better. More sinister than its predecessor, and hinting at a continued evolution of the spazzed-out electro-rock genre which the band helped create, the often-overlooked Electro-Shock EP is made all the more tragic by the fact that Brainiac mastermind Tim Taylor died only weeks after its release.

The Monorchid, Who Put Out The Fire? (1998)
One of the many musicians over the years who flitted between Dischord Records and Touch And Go, former Circus Lupus frontman Chris Thomson took his new band to the Chicago label after the release of its debut, Let Them Eat. The follow-up, 1998’s Who Put Out The Fire?, is even more perversely catchy than its predecessor. A bombardment of sloppy post-punk and off-kilter sloganeering, the album is lashed together by Thomson’s drunken-genius diarrhea of the brain. The Monorchid may be even less known today than it was during its brief existence, but it’s hard to imagine bands like Les Savy Fav existing without them.


Skull Kontrol, Deviate Beyond All Means Of Capture (1999)
Released in 1999, there were high hopes that Skull Kontrol’s Deviate Beyond All Means Of Capture would serve as a sort of blueprint for indie rock in the 21st century. True, that never really happened, but Deviate Beyond All Means Of Capture displayed everything that made vocalist Chris Thompson’s previous acts (including Circus Lupus and the Monorchid) so appealing. Their bratty vocals, razor-sharp guitar lines, and non-linear lyrics were pushed to their extreme. “New Rock Critic” (one of the best songs on any Touch & Go release) opens the EP in a frenetic manner, and its remainder races to keep up the pace. The new-wave revival and somber response to the events of 9/11 made Skull Kontrol’s flippant punk seem tragically dated to many—just at the moment when such an approach was perhaps needed most.

Quasi, Hot Shit! (2003)
From the jilted blues-rock of the title track to the laundry list of political “fuck you”’s on “White Devil’s Dream,” Quasi’s second album for Touch And Go isn’t drastically different from their other releases, but it is the one where everything clicks the best. There’s no fumbling about like on earlier or subsequent releases. Sam Coomes and Janet Weiss are focused and give their poppy-but-quirky melodies plenty of breathing room, and smartly mix an indie-rock sense of humor with their loftier lyrics. Plus, it all ends with a soothing lullaby—that way you can take a nap after being properly rocked.

Supersystem, Always Never Again (2005) and A Million Microphones (2006)
To be fair, D.C. quartet Supersystem's two Touch And Go records have their share of flaws. An over-abundance of shimmering synths and electronic bleeps are crammed into every nook of every song, the frantic vocals leave little breathing room, and the imagery-laden lyrics (which regularly touch on themes related to nature vs. man-made structures) aren't always successful. But what critics—who had also panned the band's previous two releases on Dischord under its previous moniker, El Guapo—missed about these two criminally underappreciated albums is their intelligence. Next to being too eager to please a dance community that would never accept them, Supersytem's biggest fault was simply being too damn smart for its intended audience.

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