Wimps
Cassette art from the Satan Wriders & Wimps split from Harlot Records; created by Wimps’ own Matt Nyce.
Bringing the California and Washington scenes a little closer together, Stockton’s Satan Wriders and Seattle’s Wimps released their cassette split Bubble Guts on Harlot Records (limited batch of 200 tapes), and we bring you premieres and a roundtable interview from both bands. With Wimps’ Rachel Ratner, Matt Nyce, & Dave Ramm having released their second album Suitcase last November via Kill Rock Stars and Satan Wriders busying themselves lately with a host of various projects; we give you the debuts “Boring” from Wimps and the DIY pop blaze of Satan Wriders’ “Violent Haze”. Two bands of mutually appreciative fans of one other’s music, the Bubble Guts split showcases some of the best singles from both groups where the true honest, weird, and beguiling wonders of west coast garage pop is heard here at peak proliferation.
Photo by Stacy Peck.
Following up our recent chat with Wimps’ Rachel Ratner, the debut of “Boring” showcases the northwest trio lampooning the mundane life rituals that are all too familiar to everyone in a manner that is fun, and cool according to Rachel, Matt, & Dave’s own self-aware song styles. “Boring” finds Wimps taking on the so-called humdrum day-to-day life that feels like there is nothing new left to see or do. Cataloging the inventory of daily routines and ruts like “walk the same way down the street,” “eat at the same place every week,” “dream the same things when I sleep,” “say the same things when I speak,” “never remember who I meet,” and more. The “you gotta shake it up, shake it” chorus offers an outlet to break the “no fun” cycles of systematic adherences in ways that remains steadfast to Wimps honest parodies that find the humanist humor in real life situations and rheumatism. Sticking to their guns while having a scuzzy hip shaking routine-breaking party of their own; “Boring” also features the band working in a punchy economy of sparse chord progressions build up verses of work week motions toward the rocking release found on the chorus that finally breaks the aforementioned vicious cycles of the almost all-to-painful realities.
