The Stitches Twelve Imaginary Inches
Tuesday, March 11, 2003 @ 3:41 PM
The Stitches are the Punk Rock garage sale on record where Lydon and leisure suits share the same space and young,
loud, and snotty are words to live, die and torture elderly neighbors
by. And Twelve Imaginary Inches is their first record since '95 and it may as well be '85 -- there's not a lot of sound revolt going on here, but then when you're submerged in your own subculture for so long, styles don't mean a fuck anyway; you're who and what you are at the end of the day, and more and more people seem to be noticing anyway.
"Electroshock Carol," "Foreign Currency," and maybe… "Better Looks,"
okay, had to backtrack a second, and dig that stick it to 'em slapstick
style that's eternally young, proud, and sloppy (look again, not the
same)… All killer and no filler? Yeah close, there's a couple of
replays here and there but damned if I'll complain - I mean, it's like a Faster Pussycat with a Frenzal Rhomb for a rhythm section and suburban shout-outs few can slip past.
"Kings Of Camden" and "Automatic," (the included video track) are two of the catchier standouts that make ya wanna hop on yer board and do a little drain piping across yer local childhood merchant's counter top and cash register for never once turning a deaf ear or outstretched palm -- and you want sense? Who cares, take it for what it's worth. 12 Imaginary Inches, I mean, it's got that just-picked freshness and ol' school appeal that's made them underground legends that are still fun to listen to and maybe start a little trouble with the garden hose.
* * * * 1/2
Haven't heard of these guys in a long time and the ironic thing is you
can't help but hear 'em in so many others groups. Six or seven songs in on the twelve and you're getting an earful of The Pistols, Sham 69,
Dead Boys… The Revolting Cocks, NOFX… I mean, the list goes on, but
basically anything your bourbon-soaked brain can conjure stemming from
an unclassifiable and indefensible exposure to all things punishable by
fine or imprisonment. I mean, we're onto The Dickies, The Vines, The
White Stripes, and here's this Eddie Money look-alike behind the mic
fronting a fashionably late and loud group of grown up kids, and let's
not forget the white coats!?
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