Refrigerator, the band and Shrimper, the label…

I stumbled on Shrimper cassettes for sale in the early ’90s, somewhere in the desolate Inland Empire of Southern California. They hail from the era when indie bands were fretting about selling-out, and being *not* liked was a virtue. Despite their endearingly uncompromising attitude, Shrimper was the launching pad for some beloved institutions like Mountain Goats, Sentridoh, John Davis and Amps For Christ. Refrigerator was the band of the two brothers who started the label, and they were every bit as talented as their more well-known comrades. The Self-titled LP is a solid place to start, but I’m also fond of Anchors of Bleed and How You Continue Dreaming. Hard to explain their approach on these records but if Jandek got into heartfelt indie pop in his “European Jewel”-era, you might be close. The vocals are tender and difficult, the guitar seems made up on the spot, the drumming’s simple but can get almost crudely CAN-like. The label and the band are grabbing more of an online presence in 2020 via the Grapefruit Records site, and the grapevine news is some of their classics will be reissued.

Dear Nora – Three States (Orindal)

Dear Nora (aka Katy Davidson) has been writing brilliant tunes under various guises off-the-radar since 1997. Three States is a triple LP box set reissue of a double CD compilation of 1997-2007 works with additional songs, lovingly compiled. Davidson knows classic pop song form: Brill Building, Goffin/King and Teenbeat. I am reminded of Simple Machines label comps too, but this transcends 90s roots. There are slightly fuzzy pop tunes and gentler folky ones. It’s a home recorded affair, but the songs are clear with effective double-tracked vocals and other minimal touches…a stunning collection really, song after song, 60 songs deep, personal, universal.

I Can I Can’t – S/T (Low Company)

This North London band/project (?) existed for a short time in 2009, so this is an archival dig through 4-track and boombox tapes. And what an unpredictable and artsy treat it is. From crude improv rock with maniacal vocals that recall Factory Records outliers Crawling Chaos, to calmer pieces culled from Eno’s cutting room floor circa Taking Tiger Mountain By Strategy. Volcano the Bear mined similar territory on endless CD-R’s in the early ‘00s (and are maybe still at it?). The It’s War Boy label is also a good reference point for being difficult and pleasurable in equal measure. It’s packaged with a brilliant abstract art sleeve, god’s speed to your international shipping order.