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As reissue culture finally eats itself we have for your delectation a compilation of Brad Laner’s (Medicine) childhood band. I’m not certain which extra qualities have been seen in their angsty caterwauling that have raised it above the zillions of spotty, sexually frustrated teenagers that have formed bands in their teenage years in order to scream out their frustrations but it’s worth bearing in mind that the youngest member in this collective was ten at the time.
The music on several tracks sounds like the sort of music you could imagine Napoleon Dynamite making had he been raised only on Minor Threat and early Devo records. ‘Another Six Year Old’ has the protagonist seeming to want to provoke violence against the younger generation against a backdrop of eerie synths that recalls early Wall Of Voodoo while ‘Fish Sticks’ is a diatribe against those times mum goes out and dad has to cook dinner. It recalls a lot of the madcap rhythmic jazz skronk of Thinking Fellers Union Local 282’s ‘Wormed By Leonard’.
As a teenager I’d have loved this, it’s not that far away to some of the musical ‘experiments’ me and my friends concocted over long summer holidays in the late ‘80’s. The picture of the band in the booklet is priceless, there are loads of them, a boy is hitting pots and pans at the front of the stage, they have a bassoonist. They didn’t use guitars, instead hooked up casio keyboards to amps and overlaid it with percussion producing a kind of primitive synth punk. There was an aggression to their art, they once smashed up a Musical Youth single live on stage. Brilliant stuff, though as a mature adult there is only so much of their sound that I can take before I want to shout up the stairs “right lads that’s enough, it’s way past your bedtime”.
6/10 Charlotte Customer review, 13th July 2013
This is my father's band. I am now about the same age that he was at the time that this was created. When I was about ten, I watched the video where EDB performed and daddy said that the solution to the world was to kill all the politicians. While I was not exactly shocked, because my brother and I are raised in a family that is not exactly straitlaced, I myself have a strong respect and obedience toward authority on the whole.
This man who was acting this way did not follow the smiling Bar-Mitzfah photos at my Grammy and Opa's house. As for the music itself, I do not really like it at all. I think all the lyrics are sad and the instrumentals are random, and I feel bad for Uncle Jeff who was only 10 at the time. At the same time, I know now just how sad and random and huge adolescents can feel. If I have a hard day at school, or get invited to a party with ecstasy, I know I can always talk to my dad. He is so understanding and kind and empathetic, and I feel like I can tell him anything.
He's now a teacher/researcher at my old elementary school, and Uncle Jeff is a librarian. When we have our family reunions, my brother and our two lovely cousins get together and joke about an EDB revival band. We chant the lyrics to Another Six-Year Old and giggle and tease our dads about memories and mayhem. When my mom, brother, and I found out that they were signed there was a silent beat, followed by uproarious laughter. Once the shock died down, my mom asked if they would get paid, and I asked if we could go to Brooklyn, the location of Captured Tracks.
I think that aptly shows what our family really thinks of the quality of their music. However, there is always an awe and respect for whatever my dad creates from me, and deep inside I am very excited.
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