Remember when you were twelve and this old joke was funny: “How do you make a whore moan?” “Kick her in the shins!”? Well, I do. And so do Seattle’s The Whore Moans, who released “Hello from the Radio Wasteland!” last year, in a hail of riffs and pumping fists. This is what you want from Seattle, raucous, bellicose anti-establishment profanity full of anger and fun. It’s barband punk, along the lines of Future of the Left, unapologetic and gritty. The grinding guitars sound as hoarse as the vocals, while behind them the bass and drums fight for supremacy. This is youth. This is real. This is punk. This is rock and roll.
I recommend the album without reservation but more than that, I suggest that all you college students and fratheads get this band to appear at the grubbiest club in your area. I’ve never seen them live personally, but considering that every song brings images ofwhirling lights and broken glass, I can only imagine the spectacle.
