LOCAL ALBUMS
DICKIE Minus Thieves DICKIEMUSIC.COM
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f various comic book universes have taught us anything, it’s that every hero needs an origin story. For DICKIE, that was their 2015 self-titled release—a concept album summarizing songwriter and vocalist Dick Prall’s life to that point. Returning like Superman from the Fortress of Solitude, Prall has reconvened DICKIE with a different lineup—this time as a dynamic duo with drummer and multi-instrumentalist Billy Barton as his trusty sidekick. This reboot of the band is captured in their latest album, Minus Thieves. The band, along with producers Pat Sansone (Wilco, the Autumn Defense) and Josh Shapera redirected from the previous string-ladened, chamber pop leanings to a leaner version. This lack of adornment is at once subtle and dramatic. The focal center of the band has always been Prall’s vocals and songwriting,
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particularly in a live setting, but in places we might expect a song to move to an instrumental break or solo, the songs fold back on themselves, maintaining the economy of structure. Minus Thieves’ opening salvo, “The Last Breath of Rock & Roll” is Prall’s rumination on the state of music today, reflecting on a time when it was more essential to life. He paints a scene of deciding whether to go out with friends to listen to music or pay the bills. With all of the usual varnish of production stripped away, the songs reveal Prall and DICKIE’s superpowers: the strength of a strong hook and melody. Nowhere is this more apparent than the first anthemic single from Minus Thieves, “Believe.” It opens deceptively with only tick-tock percussion from Barton and plucked guitar, recalling “I’m on Fire” by Springsteen (complete with “woo-o-woos”). When seemingly out of nowhere the song explodes into the driving chorus—a harmonized mantra, “Believe... I don’t believe!”— something huge and sadly beautiful happens, which sticks in the listener’s head. With Minus Thieves, DICKIE provides an album delightfully out of step with how we tend to consume music today. They aren’t the heroes we deserve, but quite possibly the ones we need. —Michael Roeder
ZUUL Zuul II IOWACITYZUUL.BANDCAMP.COM
ZUUL Vinyl Release Show w/ Leather Parachute, Giallows, RIBCO, Rock Island, Saturday, Sept. 14, $5
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o to any ZUUL show, stand in the back then watch as the screaming aggression, pulsing rhythm section and melodic shift into doomed riffs enrapture the audience. It’s hard not to be swayed by their end-ofthe-world, cathartic, danceable anthems. Capturing a sound like that in the studio is difficult. Capturing that feeling while pushing into even more experimental realms is a true trick, one that 2018’s ZUUL II pulls off, following the punk-metal riffage of ZUUL’s self-titled album with spacier instrumentals and, at times, subdued prog-like meditations. At just over 30 minutes, it’s a quick thump to the skull. Opening track “Suicide Tuesday” seems to continue the world’s-end hangover from the previous album. It’s a
brutal rush of a song finished in just over two minutes. “Before the Woods Burn Down” changes expectations not once, but twice. It begins with the drums playing what could easily be the backbeat to a ’70s funk jam. Then the guitars drop in. The beat keeps pace as the twin guitars tug back and forth between melody and menace. That’s all before the song speeds up, slows down, then speeds up again. “I Drive Now,” the third song, goes back and forth between anthem and counter-anthem, conjuring memories of Helmet in their more angry (and more relevant) moments. “Whole Step Back” spends half of its running time using sparse guitar work before reaching its brutal punchline (“You’re just dead fucking weight”). Instrumental “Out With the Old” sounds like a slightly off-kilter Sonic Youth song, closing the first side of the record. ZUUL saves the most interesting song for last. “A Dog Never Dies Where It Sleeps” finds the band going full-on studio experimental. Taking up the entirety of the 13-minute second side, it goes from folky into acid-laced space rock. They bring in Linzi Holandes (Death Valley Welcome Center) to add haunting vocals that spiral from harmonious to scream, ending with singer/guitarist JL Bolinger offering a bittersweet dirge. Released on vinyl this summer by Gentle Edward Records, ZUUL II sees the Iowa City band unafraid to experiment. Here’s hoping they continue to get weirder. —Chris Burns
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56 Sept. 4–17, 2019 LITTLEVILLAGEMAG.COM/LV270