Reviews
Now Wave Magazine:
"So life's a bitch, and then you die. Along the way you must tackle famine, urban decay, poverty,
pollution, disease, and Hootie & the Blowfish. But first you've got The Ergs to contend with----either as a salvation or a plague,
depending upon whom you ask. Are you ready for the new pop infliction? Is this the end---or just the beginning? At the very least,
your seemingly-insignificant existence on this planet has immediately become far less predictable. 3 GUYS 12 EYES: It's a pop record.
It's a sign of life at a time when everything else sucks. It's nature's way of telling you something's wrong.
Cranky old fiendish fossils fellate rock and roll corpses while the new school embraces a load of crap. So if underground rock is to be saved,
a nostalgia for an age yet to come is the only hope. Enter The Ergs. New Jersey's finest on a de-evolutionary mission from God. An angular
journey into the dark realms of 21st Century post-pop-punk perversion. Hyper-paced love songs played with basement ferocity and laced with
lethal witticisms. Dork-pop meets cool-guy 80's college rock meets 90's punk in a scientific experiment gone terribly, terribly wrong. Catchy,
clever, loud, and shamelessly POP, the Erg sound is a brilliant mutation of pop-punk-as-usual.
If hard-rocking new wave bubblegum thrash is NOT the next big thing, the world is doomed to suffer through another two decades' worth of
intolerable aural agony.
The Ergs fucking rule!" - Rutledge
Mutant Pop catalog #38:
"These guys need to do an album called ERGS!: A MUSIC WAR! Damn, showing my age again. The Ergs!, yet another
cool NY/NJ band, take an uptempo and vaguely thrashy approach to pop punk, wacking out four hits in machine gun fashion. A nice, loud recording
that will have ya shaking your groove thang- poppy as hell with all the authentic earnestness of a young band having fun. A few rough edges here
and there, but it's not the rawness of incompetence. Includes a surf instro. Red wax." - Tim Chandler
Maximum Rock N Roll #230:
"These DESCENDENTS fans have roving, punch bass lines, and Milo-ish vocal stylings. This record gets better
with every listen. Good record!"
Jersey Beat:
"The Ergs (by the way an erg is work equal to the work done by a force of one dyne over the distance of one
centimeter), play bouncy poppy punk that revels in the band members' dorkiness and blatent love of the Ramones and the Replacements (check out
Feeling Minnesota's {actually titled "Felling Minneapolis" -ed.} intro for proof of the latter). It's typical guy-loses-girl heartbreak lyrical
content, but fun is fun, and this is a sugary 3 chord delight. Drummer Mikey Erg has no hesitation in revealing his sensitive side as he pines
about his romantic mistakes on "If You Don't" and "1000 Letters". If you are fans of the two aforementioned brilliant acts, or if you bob your
head to the likes of Dirt Bike Annie, you will adore this. Additionally, the closing quasi-surf "Honalulu Hornrims" is another refreshing example
that this band refuses to take itself to seriously. Plus, it's on Red Vinyl!! Go buy this." - Rich Quinlan
Go Metric #15:
"Whoa Oh Records is on a roll. Their last release was wonderful Dirt Bike Annie/Kung Fu Monkeys split, now this,
the vinyl debut from The Ergs! The 7' come with a cd-r version of the same songs but trust in the vinyl, it's the perfect medium because none of
the great, short songs get lost and before you know it side two is over and it's time to flip back to the beginning. What happens during that
ride? Lots of Replacements references - the phrasing in "If You Don't" is swiped from "Hold My Life", the between songs banter nicked from Stink
along with nods to Devo, Gang of Four and vintage Lookout bands before wrapping up with a surf instrumental (which could be construed as a nod to
the Replacements' "Buck Hill"). 3 Guys, 12 Eyes, 5 hits = one great time!" - Mike Faloon
Vinyl A Go-Go:
"When I first encountered the rock and roll basted creatures known as The Ergs! it was in a dark, dank, dingy, magical
basement of a place known as The Souse House-home to NYC hook-packed, good times power-pop legends Dirt Bike Annie. I wasn't prepared for them though.
I thought they were OK, mildly amusing what not and what have you. Our next meeting was more positive. I was digging them full on after this
encounter. Perhaps it was the better vantage point provided by an empty room vs. The Souse House's packed crowd in a tiny space, or rather
them on a stage vs The Souse House's band on the floor set up. Whatever it was, this time I was blown slightly to my right. After this I went
around touting them as a band not of their own era, a band sent to the 00's in order to save underground pop/rock and roll. That's what they
struck me as, stomping and tromping all about the stage with the guitarist's shaggy hair flipping all about as he dug his shoulder into the
air in front of him and struck his guitar in powerful bursts of fury.
They were reckless rock and roll with a hint of pop at its best. They looked like they were straight out of some
malnourished 80's punk/indie rock band, and I dug it. They did a Replacements cover that, at the time, I didn't know. It has been awhile since that
second encounter the girth of my record collection has increased considerably. I now know of the brilliance that is The Replacements and I've got
better leverage on The Ergs!, they certainly are sent from another era, and they are rock and roll. But they've got heavier heapings of pop then I
first accounted for. There's an at times audible struggle between the reckless and rocked out rock and roll and the saccharine pop stylings, yet
The Ergs! manage to wed the two in bliss. This psychotic-split personality gives The Ergs! layers of charm.
The psychosis hinted at in the live setting is also obvious on their first two self-released CDRs, f'n and Digital
Endpoints. f'n is an attempt at a somewhat proper introduction type album, eight or so songs, switching off between Jeff's rocked up rock and roll
guttural lambastes and Mikey's heartfelt, tingly pop tunes delivered with a subtle, at times whiny, pop squelch very much inspired by John Bowie-lead
singer of the late, great New York pop band Egghead. All the songs are about hearts being brutalized, but both band mates choose drastically different
approaches.
On Digital Endpoints, the band's attempt at a rock opera of sorts, the band reveals itself to be concerned with even
vaster styles of music opting for a thrashy, thirty second brutal punk rock attack ala The Angry Samoans, even covering the classic "Todd Killings."
Digital Endpoints is a vapid and rapid fun time with lyrics such as "Up With Miniskirts/Down With Homework" and songs about hand jobs-revealing The
Ergs! as the true subverted perverts they are-a side they neglect to show on f'n or the release that I'm supposed to be writing about right now.
This is part of the charm of The Ergs!, whereas some bands are so limited in their influence and personality as to become stale before they're out
of the bag The Ergs! have a collective personality as vast and varied as their wider than a whale and just as tall record collection (outside of the
sexed-up rock and roller thing-they're really just a bunch of Simpsons loving dorks-having more in common with the band nerds at the other end of the
lunch table then with that kid who was always scoring with the hottest girl in the class) which together form a band that one can't truly put a hand...
err finger on, musically and otherwise.
The live setting displays The Ergs! magic just as well as their two debut releases. Both Mike's and Jeff's songs are sandwiched around Replacements
and Angry Samoans covers, not to mention whatever other obscure and hipper-than-a-cuffed-pant song they decided to pull from out their record asses,
they also do a few of them "this one's for the true punk in all of us" songs to satiate that section of your aural appetite.
Everything's sort of up in the air with an Ergs! show. First comes the banter, most often led by bass wielding Joey
Erg who fancies himself a neo-Norb of Boris The Sprinkler fame-who himself fancies himself a neo-Leonard Graves Phillips of Dickies fame, which may
lead one to hypothesize that perhaps Joey is rather going for a neo-neo-Leonard Graves Phillips schtick. Whatever the influence, he can be quite
funny-standing there with bass dangling about his neck both hands raised in some sort of dork-cult leader type manner, spewing forth a rant and
ramble about this and that often cultivating highly contrived and intricate jokes involving record collector nerd-speak or Simpsons nerd-speak or
other dorky dwellings. Then there's always heckling from drummer/most-of-the-time lead vocalist Mikey Erg-usually heckling Joe-sometimes
himself-sometimes the entire band.
Once you stop rolling your body about the floor you might notice The Ergs! have begun rocking and rolling.
Jeff Erg!, the self-proclaimed enemy of the stereo-typical pop-punk styling (also known as Tommy Erg (so as not to screw up the y ending thing))
is the guitarist/rest-of-the-time vocalist and is most likely the first thing you'll notice when witnessing The Ergs!. His steam powered assault
performed on his instrument of choice often provides a distinct contrast against Mikey's love lorn lyrics and poppy beats. It's as if he's
single-handedly attempting to overcome the stereotypical poppy band label by beating your eyes senseless while your ears are being soothed and
shook with sugar. He's often got quite an unkempt do and likes to shake his rock and roll cranium up and down to the beat of the drum, while
performing a bit of a Joe Strummer stance-only with his shoulder out as well as his leading leg, more akin to a charging bull stomping all about
the stage-always ready to trounce an unsuspecting audience member or two. This creates a mesmerizing visual-all hair and muscle-and his guitar
barely withstanding the billion mile an hour strumming...as if he's trying to rip the thing off his neck with all the power he can muster through
a plastic pick. He out of all of The Ergs! is the one voted most likely to have been teleported into the 00's from some stinking broken down van
while on tour in the early-80s with an obscure indie rock band straight. When it is his time to take the lead vocal duties his attack seems to
intensify. He's the vinegar to Mike's sugar, hoarsely bleating out his vocals and rocking out his songs all the while stomping the pop beast he's
constantly attempting to defy.
Then there's Joe, not quite as fierce a beast as Jeff, but entertaining nonetheless. Watching his feet is like viewing a Fifties sock hop or
Sixties swinging party. They're like two separate entities twisting and rocking all night long in close proximity to each other, turning this
way and that all crooked and befuddled. He performs the stomping action as well. I believe both standing members of The Ergs! learned it from
Mikey who was rumored to have stomped cockroaches dead with his bass pedal. Bereft of bass pedals the other Ergs! opted to do the killing with
their outer soles.
And what about that Mike guy? He's another key visual element to The Ergs!
live rock extravaganza. Mike flails away at his kit like some sort of demented-David Bowie t-shirt sporting-bean pole
with arms. At times bits of his kit seem just out of reach, but he'll flick a drum stick out of his ass at the last minute hitting
the cymbal or tapping the snare as if nearly forgetting it was there in the first place. He keeps the beat though, all the while
cranking out his popped-up tales of lost love with help from his voicebox and windpipe. He very rarely leaves his kit standing at
the end of a set.
Off the stage The Ergs! are quite similar. Mike is much like his drumming lets on, somewhat of an A.D.D.
ridden five year old-full of energy and unable to lend his attention to anyone thing for very long. He's constantly picking up your records
and flicking them at you in disapproval. Before you can pick it up and carefully place it back in the box he's flipping through your favorite
book, only to toss it in the same manner. When he's not doing that he's most likely pseudo-wanking to posters of pop divas, or becoming embroiled
in some convoluted argument with his fellow Ergs! over the general merits of Teenage Fanclub or Devo. The Ergs! collectively know too much about
everything, most of all music (this is where the beauty of The Erg's! sound comes in, you have to have a PhD in pop/punk rock/indie
rock/power-pop/rock and roll/rap/anything and everything history to fully appreciate all the diverse influences that are welded into The Ergs
compact and ready to roll rock and roll/pop tunes-be it a musical or lyrical influence or simply a liner-note/live banter reference), and are not
afraid to let their opinions be known. They're somewhat like a more diabolical version of Jack Black's character from the record nerd paradise that
was the film High Fidelity. They are however certifiable dorks, and will be the first to admit it. So any and all bickering is meant only in good fun.
When The Ergs! aren't verbally going at it offstage, they're most likely involved in some sort of physical
squabble, often involving various beverages being tossed about deserted parking lots at unsuspecting band mates. It's quite a site to behold,
three guys in their early 20's continually bludgeoning each other with a jug of ghetto-iced tea-as if explosively rocking on stage wasn't enough
to draw all the energy from their bodies.
Jeff, while rather in your face when performing live, is one of the quieter members of The Ergs! when off-stage,
although he'll gladly pontificate on the merits of Black Flag, The Minutemen, The Simpsons, or any other number of his favorite things, anytime
you want to start in on that stuff. Joe is much the same off stage as on, with perhaps less stomping and foot wiggling. As any good Erg does he
possesses a huge love for the recorded material and provides many entertaining hours of geek record talk. He seems to be constantly excited about
some new band he knows you'll die when you hear, he's almost always right. An evening with The Ergs! is one of continual amusement, educational
experiences, and pure unadulterated fun.
Now you have some background. A foundation, if you will, on which to build an understanding of the single that is
the subject of this review (although I wouldn't blame you if you couldn't tell), and a record which has served to legitimize one of underground
pop's rumbling sensations. f'n and Digital Endpoints are must own releases, but a vinyl single is the creme de la creme of the pop underground
and this is one slick as shit record to be debuting with. This time around we get four Mikey compositions, one of which has some slight help from
Joey-who himself supplies the fifth and final track-an instrumental deal. What this means is that the rocked out, fierce as fuck rock and roll of
Jeff is missing. That's not to say his unfathomably impossible guitar work isn't present. Let's do some more of that description I'm so fond of.
On 3 Guys 12 Eyes (hells yeah, I actually typed out the title of the record, it must be getting close to actual review time), The Ergs stick to
their poppier stylings. Picture if you will the early Replacements guitar, bass, and drum line-up backing a nerve-wracked, heart-broken, cynical,
whiny, nasal-tinged, sugary-at times bleating-pop singer who writes songs about one girl and one girl only (well her and one other one). The ONE
girl who got away and ripped Mikey's soul to shreds in the process. He's got his heart rammed so far up this chick's ass his only solution is to
write three minute rocked out pop songs about her in an attempt to pry the thing loose and put it back where it belongs.
Rocked out pop is a dead on description of The Ergs. Yes they play pop, but it's so a typical that you simply
have to hear it for yourself. Hence why I'm writing all this shit, so you'll buy this fucking record. If you're not going to buy it yet, then I
had better keep on typing. If you are convinced by now, then anything past this point is just those gobs of rose shaped icing that you dare not
eat for fear of suffering seizures, but usually wind up eating anyway-if not just to dull the pain that is caused by sitting through a wedding
reception with no alcohol in your system and not a single glass of Coca-Cola in sight.
3 Guys 12 Eyes starts out with a slightly rocked out version of "If You Don't," first heard on f'n. The song is
best described as a soft, subtle, pop tune that's sped out and rocked up so as to make it not longer a soft and subtle pop tune. It's a much
cooler version then what appeared on f'n. Featuring a bit more studied chaos, as if the band was so tired of playing the thing that they decided
to fuck with it-partially to make fun of it-mainly to get more enjoyment out of playing it. The added backing vocal chant and Mike's fucking with
the vocals by drawing words out and such, slays me and shall certainly hurt you a bit as well. Mike rules at the lead singing bit. The entire time
he's whining along in his pop drawl you get the feeling he's making fun of himself. Not that his songs deserve making fun of, but Mike's a cynical
fuck... so it's his idea of a good time.
The guitars are extra delicious on this version. The recording is ultra-crispy and nips your ears just right.
There's lots of Jeff's crazy guitar picking layered in. My lack of understanding of music theory makes me unable to properly verbiate about Jeff's
guitar talents, however I will say that I half-suspect he's one of the best guitarists I've witnessed in the underground pop scene. He plays some
of the strangest shit you'll ever hear smacked up next to a pop melody, shades of Bob Stinson I'd have to say (and no one drops that name lightly
folks). His guitar work makes up a huge chunk of The Erg's! signature sound.
A, I assume, fake-fucked up beginning leads us into the next cut "Feeling Minneapolis," which actually references
a Replacements lyric (I guess The Ergs! like them or something... did I mention that?). This one's an upbeat, rocked up pop tune that immediately
knocks into the next track, leaving no time to figure that fact out.
"Bought A Copy" blazes on and on, with Mike's lyrical talents shining. The Ergs!: songs about books, letters, and
girls. There's a self-described Gang of Four breakdown section and a pure shining rock and roll moment of, I should think, also staged hoarse,
bleating, strained vocals on Mike's part-once again bringing to mind... ah never mind (a reference to said band who's name I've decided not to utter
again, could it be? It could). This song, as well as the others, features lots of machine gun drum fills that beat the back of your ears until you
turn around and smack them. The song's over before you remember it started and then it's on to a funny as all shit sample from a rap album of some
sort that'll have you rolling on the floor.
This leads into my second fave tune on the single (the first being the opener). It's a pop gem of a bopping,
foot-tapping jingle that hits you like a trampled bucket of honey-coated 25 cent rubber balls bouncing and careening down a sugar sprinkled city
street, only to become lodged in your ears where they sit and rot for weeks and weeks. The songs called "1000 Letters" and is about the same girl
that "If You Don't" and "Bought A Copy" are about, the one with Mike's heart up her ass. It's Mike dueting with himself, the girl (sung by Mike)
taking the verses and the boy (also sung by Mike) taking the chorus and bridge. It could be confusing but the liner notes explain it all. Again
Mike's got some witty lyrical sting in him. Ends with a bashed-out, crashed up line that is an attempt to shove this girl from off his head for
the final time, giving him the solace he's been seeking throughout all the other grooves on the record.
It seems to work, as the last track seemingly has absolutely nothing to do with girls. Rather it has to do with Hawaii and hornrims. The Ergs!
are dorks remember? And dorks close out their singles with songs called "Honolulu Hornrims," that are somewhat soft, easy listening-like surfy
Hawaiian jingles. It's The Ergs! musically masturbating, a soothing ending to a fine recording. For all you utterly contemptible, turntable less
dullwads, The Ergs! were kind enough to include a CDR version of the record that includes four extra songs, one each penned by Mike and Jeff and
two covers, which are worth hearing five times at least. I wouldn't be surprised if the next record comes with twenty extra tracks, The Ergs!
cannot be contained by a mere vinyl slab, they're a raging beast of a song writing machine, cranking out those psychotic pop/rock and roll tunes
with reckless abandon. Whether they'll ever start taking their medication and assume one identity remains to be seen. However, they appear a step
closer to settling down with the release of "3 Guys 12 Eyes" (released on the most thanked Whoa Oh Records and featuring the artistic stylings of
one wondrous Dyna Moe: top notch layout on both the labels and sleeve make this an extra sweet record to slide in a plastic sleeve and slip into
your box...).
Attention pop underground: The Ergs! are here and they would very much like for you to shut up and listen to
them before Mike kicks the drum set over, Joe jumps on Jeff for making fun of The Figgs, Mike tosses iced tea at the both of them, and all three
careen off the stage and land on your girlfriend-stealing her in the process. She will undoubtedly filch their hearts and leave them in a tear-soaked
mess by week's end. They will write a song about it." - Lew
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