It’s May 18, and seriously, SSOAP is probably back from its self-imposed, bitch-out hiatus. Hi! Let’s get tidy.

It’s May 18, and seriously, SSOAP is probably back from its self-imposed, bitch-out hiatus. Hi! Let’s get tidy.

Iggy and the Stooges, “Burn” (Fat Possum) BURN FIRE REPTILE I’m on fire with a reptile THERE’S NO GOD THEY’RE TAKING OVER

Iggy and the Stooges, “Burn” (Fat Possum)

BURN

FIRE

REPTILE

I’m on fire with a reptile

THERE’S NO GOD

THEY’RE TAKING OVER

Hey, blog babes! Tomorrow, Feb. 27, marks 10 years since one of our greatest inspirations, Mister Rogers, left for Make Believe. For all of the things that classy man did and said, “Try your best to make goodness attractive. That’s one of the toughest assignments you’ll ever be given.” is still too much — if he, Daniel Tiger, that little owl, or any of his neighbors made your childhood a little more comfy, duh, it’s such a day to give back. The Fred Rogers Center and Pittsburgh Children’s Museum are both totally worthwhile, but we know you’re creative enough to take the time and make a certain little person’s world gush with possibility too. Love,Sarah Soap

Hey, blog babes!

Tomorrow, Feb. 27, marks 10 years since one of our greatest inspirations, Mister Rogers, left for Make Believe. For all of the things that classy man did and said, “Try your best to make goodness attractive. That’s one of the toughest assignments you’ll ever be given.” is still too much — if he, Daniel Tiger, that little owl, or any of his neighbors made your childhood a little more comfy, duh, it’s such a day to give back. The Fred Rogers Center and Pittsburgh Children’s Museum are both totally worthwhile, but we know you’re creative enough to take the time and make a certain little person’s world gush with possibility too.

Love,
Sarah Soap

Veronica Falls, Waiting for Something to Happen (Slumberland) Whether it’s bad luck or a sad thing, every date lately has been such a waste of time. Even though getting ditched after 20 minutes during last month’s gallery crawl was funny as soon as it happened, kind of, it still feels OK thinking that that night was supposed to be a little more than an early come-home to leftover pizza and cozy cats. And if there weren’t other somehow-single friends to dish about our respective batches of creeps during coffee with, who knows how many minds would have been lost by now. Basically the only thing that could make dating an even deeper hole of frustrated feelings is not having someone else to suffer through it with — Roxanne Clifford mentioning “Everybody’s crazy” on the song sharing its title with Veronica Falls’ second album, Waiting for Something to Happen, feels like an all-around summary with how we’ve decided our Friday nights tend to go. But another line well into the second half, “Someone tell me something true,” is that hush cutting through all of the fuss and chatter, never minding how someone would rather check text messages instead of saying how lovely we look tonight. It’s too easy to say things like how the band really turned it out and made an album that’s going to spend the next few decades fitting snug against that one about the queen being dead; like those early singles the Falls had on Captured Tracks were totally cute and worth getting to know and everything, but the songs on its latest LP, especially “Broken Toy,” are talking to us and making so much sense, while not letting up on the eye contact. And although that’s a role better filled by BFFs, it’s still silly to pass on just-as-intelligent art.

Veronica Falls, Waiting for Something to Happen (Slumberland)

Whether it’s bad luck or a sad thing, every date lately has been such a waste of time. Even though getting ditched after 20 minutes during last month’s gallery crawl was funny as soon as it happened, kind of, it still feels OK thinking that that night was supposed to be a little more than an early come-home to leftover pizza and cozy cats.

And if there weren’t other somehow-single friends to dish about our respective batches of creeps during coffee with, who knows how many minds would have been lost by now. Basically the only thing that could make dating an even deeper hole of frustrated feelings is not having someone else to suffer through it with — Roxanne Clifford mentioning “Everybody’s crazy” on the song sharing its title with Veronica Falls’ second album, Waiting for Something to Happen, feels like an all-around summary with how we’ve decided our Friday nights tend to go. But another line well into the second half, “Someone tell me something true,” is that hush cutting through all of the fuss and chatter, never minding how someone would rather check text messages instead of saying how lovely we look tonight.

It’s too easy to say things like how the band really turned it out and made an album that’s going to spend the next few decades fitting snug against that one about the queen being dead; like those early singles the Falls had on Captured Tracks were totally cute and worth getting to know and everything, but the songs on its latest LP, especially “Broken Toy,” are talking to us and making so much sense, while not letting up on the eye contact. And although that’s a role better filled by BFFs, it’s still silly to pass on just-as-intelligent art.

Haunted Hearts, “Something that Feels Bad is Something that Feels Good” b/w “House of Lords” (Zoo Music) Usually, our Valentine’s date is The Smiths’ Singles; on passingly less-desperate years, maybe Standing on a Beach. The cassette version for the latter is such a handy thing, because after Robert’s through with brooding and blooping on the first side, its flip serves up all of those singles’ B-sides. But whether the seven-inches collected on those other formats are or aren’t the ideal for February 14, the debut single between post-punk lovecats, Dee Dee of the Dum Dums and Brandon Crocodile, is too busy being gooey, smitten and buzzy to worry about it. So is that rude of them, or bitter of us? Never minding if Valentine’s 2013 is going to be spent with The Smiths or just that Robert one, “House of Lords” aside, our very own B-side is going to be an entire chocolate cake.

Haunted Hearts, “Something that Feels Bad is Something that Feels Good” b/w “House of Lords” (Zoo Music)

Usually, our Valentine’s date is The Smiths’ Singles; on passingly less-desperate years, maybe Standing on a Beach. The cassette version for the latter is such a handy thing, because after Robert’s through with brooding and blooping on the first side, its flip serves up all of those singles’ B-sides. But whether the seven-inches collected on those other formats are or aren’t the ideal for February 14, the debut single between post-punk lovecats, Dee Dee of the Dum Dums and Brandon Crocodile, is too busy being gooey, smitten and buzzy to worry about it. So is that rude of them, or bitter of us? Never minding if Valentine’s 2013 is going to be spent with The Smiths or just that Robert one, “House of Lords” aside, our very own B-side is going to be an entire chocolate cake.

Anakitten Skywalker mourns, July 2011.

Anakitten Skywalker mourns, July 2011.

You Only Live Once, “Chasing Dreams” (self-released) Dudes? Dudes. Dudes. You Only Live Once is a band from Los Angeles. One of its vocalists, Stephanie Sanson, just became teenager of the year for crashing American Idol, and breaking shit. It’s basically common sense to go buy her band’s new single, right now, especially if your diet’s been lacking iron, zinc, heavy, and other essential metals.

You Only Live Once, “Chasing Dreams” (self-released)

Dudes? Dudes. Dudes. You Only Live Once is a band from Los Angeles. One of its vocalists, Stephanie Sanson, just became teenager of the year for crashing American Idol, and breaking shit. It’s basically common sense to go buy her band’s new single, right now, especially if your diet’s been lacking iron, zinc, heavy, and other essential metals.

Sharon Needles, PG-13 (self-released) Sharon Needles is the biggest thing to come out of Pittsburgh since a Penguin. And if those red claws she’s flashing on the cover of her debut LP, PG-13, don’t dish anything about a certain disappeared synth-pop spider, your cassette collection has some serious holes in it. What matters, though, is that whether Needles is dredging up vintage Ministry with sneaky allusions to With Sympathy or from covering “Everyday is Halloween” — it’s sexy. Rather than dripping black and getting all breathy, the album’s better moments rely on surface sheen and pop gloss. Whether that’s what anyone was expecting from a Sharon Needles album — like we were kind of hoping for smeared-eyeliner art hiss, because we’re snobs — Warhol’s ghost is doubtlessly looking on from somewhere, coyly nodding. But even if this PBR princess having a thing for those six-foot cemetery holes assumes that she might be a little more into depth than other drag queens, just leave that mess for your cultural studies professor. Trashing-up and dumbing-down whatever’s been happening in the Top 40 with a sassy alphabet recital, “Call Me on the Ouija Board” is such a self-aware shimmer that of course it’s throwing pop back at itself. Unlike those old Ministry tapes that throb over with all of that bass to make getting dirty and sweaty with whatever’s standing next to you even easier, PG-13 is keeping itself cool, sly, and surprisingly collected — like that wallflower book and maybe those soup cans, most of Pittsburgh’s cultural exports have at least something to do with square pegs, and Sharon Needles was already a part of that before this thing anyway. But if she’s using such a clean album to give face while creeping under white picket fences like those claws might be foreshadowing, never minding anything like hotness, that would be so punk.

Sharon Needles, PG-13 (self-released)

Sharon Needles is the biggest thing to come out of Pittsburgh since a Penguin. And if those red claws she’s flashing on the cover of her debut LP, PG-13, don’t dish anything about a certain disappeared synth-pop spider, your cassette collection has some serious holes in it. What matters, though, is that whether Needles is dredging up vintage Ministry with sneaky allusions to With Sympathy or from covering “Everyday is Halloween” — it’s sexy.

Rather than dripping black and getting all breathy, the album’s better moments rely on surface sheen and pop gloss. Whether that’s what anyone was expecting from a Sharon Needles album — like we were kind of hoping for smeared-eyeliner art hiss, because we’re snobs — Warhol’s ghost is doubtlessly looking on from somewhere, coyly nodding. But even if this PBR princess having a thing for those six-foot cemetery holes assumes that she might be a little more into depth than other drag queens, just leave that mess for your cultural studies professor.

Trashing-up and dumbing-down whatever’s been happening in the Top 40 with a sassy alphabet recital, “Call Me on the Ouija Board” is such a self-aware shimmer that of course it’s throwing pop back at itself. Unlike those old Ministry tapes that throb over with all of that bass to make getting dirty and sweaty with whatever’s standing next to you even easier, PG-13 is keeping itself cool, sly, and surprisingly collected — like that wallflower book and maybe those soup cans, most of Pittsburgh’s cultural exports have at least something to do with square pegs, and Sharon Needles was already a part of that before this thing anyway. But if she’s using such a clean album to give face while creeping under white picket fences like those claws might be foreshadowing, never minding anything like hotness, that would be so punk.

Violent Vibes, “I’m a Creeper” (self-released) Whoever the woman behind Violent Vibes is, she and her guitar sound like really mean no wave poets. Like the kind who wear gross leather when it’s 80 degrees. But in case you’re wondering why there’s broken glass and where all those light bulbs went — well, seriously — she’s a creeper.

Violent Vibes, “I’m a Creeper” (self-released)

Whoever the woman behind Violent Vibes is, she and her guitar sound like really mean no wave poets. Like the kind who wear gross leather when it’s 80 degrees. But in case you’re wondering why there’s broken glass and where all those light bulbs went — well, seriously — she’s a creeper.

Good luck, Ms. Thunderfuck! If we’ve learned anything from our cats — and we have — win or lose, remember go for those bitches’ eyes.

Good luck, Ms. Thunderfuck! If we’ve learned anything from our cats — and we have — win or lose, remember go for those bitches’ eyes.

Guided By Voices, Down By the Racetrack EP (Fire) No one knows how old Mitch Mitchell really is — probably older than 19 — but for being someone who can make everybody else feel totally lame about not being able to pull off that anarchy T-shirt / chain smoking look, it’s kind of silly to think that there’s other guitar boys out there who are actually worth crushing about. And if anyone knows how many records Guided By Voices has put out since getting back in the habit last year — probably pushing 19? — its latest six-song EP, Down By the Racetrack, is the one worth going crazy over. Maybe all of the albums have screamy-weird tape hiss like “The Head” and mumble-fuss like “Fighter Pilot” to remind everybody that rock ‘n’ roll feels better when it’s not thought about that much, but the EP’s flip congeals into such a piano-crashy, lived-in mess that, whether Mitch is doing a look or just doing it, is why that’s happening even really important?

Guided By Voices, Down By the Racetrack EP (Fire)

No one knows how old Mitch Mitchell really is — probably older than 19 — but for being someone who can make everybody else feel totally lame about not being able to pull off that anarchy T-shirt / chain smoking look, it’s kind of silly to think that there’s other guitar boys out there who are actually worth crushing about. And if anyone knows how many records Guided By Voices has put out since getting back in the habit last year — probably pushing 19? — its latest six-song EP, Down By the Racetrack, is the one worth going crazy over. Maybe all of the albums have screamy-weird tape hiss like “The Head” and mumble-fuss like “Fighter Pilot” to remind everybody that rock ‘n’ roll feels better when it’s not thought about that much, but the EP’s flip congeals into such a piano-crashy, lived-in mess that, whether Mitch is doing a look or just doing it, is why that’s happening even really important?

Come, “Fast Piss Blues” b/w “I Got the Blues” (Matador, 1992; 2013) Is it 20 years too late to start [bunny]-talking Courtney Love? Don’t get us wrong: singing along with “Dicknail” is definitely a way to get left alone when you’re on the bus — especially that part when she’s gets extra emphatic about screaming it — but so much about early Hole feels like bad Sylvia Plath jazz. And there’s nothing wrong with punk rock tantrums, but if you’re digging through bins hoping to turn up a few singles for that special early ’90s bleakness, it’s irresponsible to settle. There’s bunches of noisy menace and so many volumes of Dope, Guns, and [Fluffy] to pick through, but only that one has “come” scrawled over a belly. Even though Courtney and the ladies she generously borrowed from had so many bloody screams and scary clothes, Come’s 1992 “Fast Piss Blues” single on Matador, which is getting tossed in with the upcoming Eleven : Eleven reissue this spring, patiently seethed underneath the rest; visual clues that Come is a different thing altogether notwithstanding, Thalia Zedek coughing out “I don’t remember being born” while getting twisted in kinda jittery and spare guitars should really give enough gossip that some bands would be happening with or without timely subculture cues.

Come, “Fast Piss Blues” b/w “I Got the Blues” (Matador, 1992; 2013)

Is it 20 years too late to start [bunny]-talking Courtney Love? Don’t get us wrong: singing along with “Dicknail” is definitely a way to get left alone when you’re on the bus — especially that part when she’s gets extra emphatic about screaming it — but so much about early Hole feels like bad Sylvia Plath jazz. And there’s nothing wrong with punk rock tantrums, but if you’re digging through bins hoping to turn up a few singles for that special early ’90s bleakness, it’s irresponsible to settle. There’s bunches of noisy menace and so many volumes of Dope, Guns, and [Fluffy] to pick through, but only that one has “come” scrawled over a belly. Even though Courtney and the ladies she generously borrowed from had so many bloody screams and scary clothes, Come’s 1992 “Fast Piss Blues” single on Matador, which is getting tossed in with the upcoming Eleven : Eleven reissue this spring, patiently seethed underneath the rest; visual clues that Come is a different thing altogether notwithstanding, Thalia Zedek coughing out “I don’t remember being born” while getting twisted in kinda jittery and spare guitars should really give enough gossip that some bands would be happening with or without timely subculture cues.

Hunx, “I Won’t Tell if You Won’t Tell” b/w Cassie Ramone, “I Don’t Really Wanna Go” (Famous Class)  Oh, honey! It usually takes stuff like “music” and “fun” until at least May to get back on their legs after being beaten to death with fish-eyed year-end lists, so this split between no. 1 heartthrobs, Hunx and the Vivian Girls’ Cassie Ramone, couldn’t happen to a more boring month. And even though it’s not the sassed-out pout to teenage abandon and markered-up Converse that comes to mind after finding out these two did a record together, it’s still the coolest thing to happen since your big sister’s best friend stole your sunglasses.

Hunx, “I Won’t Tell if You Won’t Tell” b/w Cassie Ramone, “I Don’t Really Wanna Go” (Famous Class) 

Oh, honey! It usually takes stuff like “music” and “fun” until at least May to get back on their legs after being beaten to death with fish-eyed year-end lists, so this split between no. 1 heartthrobs, Hunx and the Vivian Girls’ Cassie Ramone, couldn’t happen to a more boring month. And even though it’s not the sassed-out pout to teenage abandon and markered-up Converse that comes to mind after finding out these two did a record together, it’s still the coolest thing to happen since your big sister’s best friend stole your sunglasses.

Ty Segall, “Would You Be My Love” b/w “For Those Who Weep” (Drag City) Like we’re not saying music blogs are boring and altogether pointless, but if any of them had enough style to say Ty Segall was anything other than “garage” — like how Joe Jervis described the first song on Segall’s Twins LP as “Rocky Horror meets the Stooges” — we would have been bothering the neighbors with a certain big, hot spoon of melty, glittery realness for so much longer than since last week. And, even though this single’s all-new B-side gets lost in a magical mystery, the already-released “Would You Be My Love” is busy making teenagers everywhere even more gooey and confused about their intentions, which, and let’s just be honest, are serious sensations that most music bloggers are too important for.

Ty Segall, “Would You Be My Love” b/w “For Those Who Weep” (Drag City)

Like we’re not saying music blogs are boring and altogether pointless, but if any of them had enough style to say Ty Segall was anything other than “garage” — like how Joe Jervis described the first song on Segall’s Twins LP as “Rocky Horror meets the Stooges” — we would have been bothering the neighbors with a certain big, hot spoon of melty, glittery realness for so much longer than since last week. And, even though this single’s all-new B-side gets lost in a magical mystery, the already-released “Would You Be My Love” is busy making teenagers everywhere even more gooey and confused about their intentions, which, and let’s just be honest, are serious sensations that most music bloggers are too important for.

Sarah Soap, hating his photo shoot.

Sarah Soap, hating his photo shoot.

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