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NOW HEAR THIS 2004   Can’t figure out what to listen to? Listen to us. Once again, PopMatters’ music team presents a highly opinionated, undoubtedly superlative but ultimately revelatory examination of 18 artists that demand your attention. NOW.
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:: Best Band to Inspire Not-So-Polite Gestures at Huge Tastemaking TV Networks
THE BAMBOO KIDS

Fuck MTV. That’s right, fuck MTV for foisting yet another wave of snotty nosed poseurs on the masses; and fuck MTV for continually polluting our collective psyches with their flavor-of-the-moment dreck. And while we’re at it, fuck California for taking credit for the recent punk revival. New York City is where it all started back in 1974, and 30 years later it’s where everything is happening again. And with nary a skate board or trendy pierced lip in sight, the stupendous Bamboo Kids are giving mainstream media sycophants the high hard one with their own slash and burn brand of noise. Stripped down, gritty and just plain aggressive, the Kids represent all that is genuine about New York’s dive bar aesthetic. The Kids are frayed denim, worn leather, rotten sneakers, slam dancing, crowd diving, and gobbing at the stage all rolled up into a tidy little incendiary package. They sing about everything and nothing while incorporating enough hooks to keep everyone’s attention. Forget Sum 41 and Good Charlotte, and think back to the thrilling days of yesteryear when The Ramones ruled clubs like CBGB’s. No fancy video shoots; no make-up artists; no sparkling water and vegetable platters; just twisted cables and powers chords jacked out of amps turned up to 11.


So how does this trio of urchins cook up such a tasty musical smorgasbord? By sticking to a simple recipe consisting of two parts early Clash, a handful of Joey, Johnny, Dee Dee and Marky, a pinch of vintage Pistols, and a sprinkling of Television and NY Dolls for taste. The discerning palate may even detect a hint of Stooges as well. With such an impressive roster of influences, the Kids are sure to be held to a high creative standard. Fear not, the lads aren’t just a bunch of beer and sneer wannabes. Guitarist Dwight Weeks sings and plays as if channeling the spirit of a young Joe Strummer, bassist Vince Cecio holds down the bottom with precision, while Chris Orlando showcases his penchant for drum kit strafing runs. These boys walk the walk, as their July 2004 American debut will prove. So don’t get bamboozled any longer by the current crop of corporate crap, tune into The Bamboo Kids and revel in some of the finest sonic resonance that New York City has to offer.


— Adam Williams


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