I’m not sure if there’s a single garage-rock outfit, at the present, that hits as bat-to-the-skull hard as Ghetto Ghouls, an Austin band modeled on the stylings of Fatal Flying Guilloteens, Swell Maps, and The Sonics. It’s like one of those early Thermals records: Riffs, man!!! That’s what we all want these days, no? There’s so much pent-up energy released it’s a gotta-see-‘em-in-concert situation for sure. Not that I ever get out of the house these days (though hey, I’ve had several good runs and will have several more); I don’t deserve Ghetto Ghouls the way I laze around with my babiez. But hey that’s life. I think Collisions is a genuine replacement for the ‘real thing,’ too; unlike a lot the garage rekerdz (ha anyone else remember Estrus? they were an exception to this for sure) of the 90s, folks these days are content to capture all the grit and tit of on-the-spot dynamics, and I’m grateful for that. In fact I’m listening to this with my daughter right now. Don’t get it twisted though. I’m pretty sure these guys would do a rail off the Statue of Liberty’s ass if they had the chance. This isn’t at all sanitized entertainment and I’m not going to relay the lyrics to my kid either. ONE, TWO, ONE-TWO-THREE-FOUR bang-bang-bang; bang-bang; bang-bang-bang-bang BANG-BANG-BANG nenner-nenner-nenner BANG-BANG-BANG… BANG-BANG, BANG, BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!!!!!!! That opening track on Side B is more like a, shit, I don’t even want to say because I’m not sure and there’s a broken-casio solo in there too that’s sorta Unicorns-y. Forgive me; Collisions, at 45 RPM no less, tends to scramble me up a bit, like those eggs I melted cheese over this mornin’. The flip side is a little more subtle, which some of you will appreciate. I, predictably, was hoping I’d get kicked in the teeth a few more times. Hey, no harm done. Until Ghetto Ghouls and Cool Ghouls meld together into a Byrds-ian hard-garage mess, flip your switch on in seconds with this hard-rockin’ reptile of a record.
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