Some Kind of Kick by Lindsay Hutton - The Next Big Thing - nextbigthing.blogspot.com

Provides a full on pummel not unlike The Jim Jones Revue album. Their relentless old school teen punk is designed to be played with the volume on tilt. They’ve discovered and forged their own identity. I think I’ve said before that it’s down to the keyboards. The result owes just as much to the first Modern Lovers record as it does to any psychobillious pshennaigans.

They’ve managed to inject a fresh energy into the common or garden take on the garage disease. Plus they have youth on their side. Maybe that will construct a bridge to lure future generations away from whatever the latest dilution of the already fetid Libertines oeuvre toward the original source. Did you watch that Cramps clip I posted yesterday? Tell me one act that you’ve come across lately that even comes close? In terms of excitement, then these Dublin kids at least have a shot.

What The Things are pushing is nothing new but then again what is? Kudos then that they haven’t just reinvented the wheel either and this particular chemistry should provide some high octane thrills for those of you that follow a particular persuasion. I hope they retain this snarl for some considerable time to come. The album closes with a reflective, relatively slow song called “Sandy Tells Me”. It fuses something of Inspiral Carpets with early Gun Club. Let’s leave calendars and time out of it and present you with the fact that that these kids have made a bloody good debut album. That’s enough to be going on with.

Some Kind of Kick by Phil Udell - State - www.state.ie

Mention the name The Things and one of two visions spring to mind. One, a band who have always found themselves on the margins, besieged by unfortunate luck and lumped in with the likes of the awful Humanzi and Mainline, part of a Dublin scene that never really amounted to much. The other is of a band who got off their arses right from the start and did things their own way while others were sitting around waiting to get signed; building bridges across the world, running their own club nights, releasing a series of singles on various labels, developing a fine live reputation, just keeping going.
The truth, as it often is, is somewhere in the middle. Whatever the case, the Things’ debut album has been a long time coming, maybe too long. You sense that, for a first full length release, Some Kind Of Kick, has an awful lot resting on it – not least for the band themselves.

What’s not surprising about the record is that it sounds like a concoction of the Cramps and the Stooges plus a whole host of obscure garage, punk and psychobilly bands. What is surprising is how fired up, how alive and how downright vital the whole thing sounds. Unlike previous attempts, this finds them getting the studio balance between down & dirty and achieving a clarity that allows the songs to shine through.

And it’s those songs that really make Some Kind Of Kick the piece of work that it is. You can see that five years plus worth of writing went into the making of the record, but also that they’re also finally hitting their stride. Sure the likes of ‘Pyscho Lover’ and ‘Demon Stomp’ sound exactly like you might expect, but they are delivered with such conviction that any cracks are easy to ignore. On the title track, the Elvis-tinged ‘Make Her Cry’ and the glorious ‘Set Me Free’ (complete with sixties Hammond organ) they manage to transcend those influences, actually sounding like their own band. For an outfit so enthralled with what has gone before it’s no mean feat. It’s been a long time coming, but just maybe The Things are going to have their moment. They’ve earned it.

Some Kind of Kick by Oliver Schütz - Dorfdisco - www.dorfdisco.de

Das The Things Debut Some Kind of Kick (nicht die gleichnamige Band von Lobotomy 2003) beinhaltet 14 Killer-Tunes Sleazy Rock’n'Roll für alle, die es mit The Cramps oder besser The Chrome Cranks (wer kennt die noch?) halten - für sie gibt es hier den neuen, heissen geilen Totenkopfscheiss.

Sänger Neilo Thing brüllt wie lange niemand mehr, und klingt tatsächlich so wie Anfang der 80er alle klingen wollten. Der Sound, ein Hammond Orgel getränkter, bassig tanzbarer Psychorock aus der Geisterbahn, wie Conrad Standish Fucked Up, orientiert sich an 50er Motorradpunkbands wie The Count Five vielleicht und 70er Lederjackenglam. Dagegen sind die Horrors schon ein bischen - nett.

Wie sie haben auch The Things sich einen klassischen Titel der Cramps umgedreht als Albumtitel genommen. Die CD kommt im Januar und enthält auch ihre Vorgänger Single Set Me Free, und wird später noch über Torpedo Ride als Vinyl veröffentlicht. Auf ihrer MySpace erzählen sie überdies eine charmante Geschichte darüber wie sie im März 08 zu ihren Aufnahmen für eine Woche in Berlin umherirrten, mit allen typischen Konsequenzen. Sehr lustig nachzulesen. Wir hätten euch schon gemanagt! Auf dem Cover übrigens liegen sie in irgendeiner Schlachthaus oder Toilette oder sowas. Ein Muss für alle Bassy-Bang Bang-White Trash-Cortina Bob DJs.

Some Kind of Kick by Manuel Graziani - RUMORE

Per fortuna non ci sono solo i gruppi italiani che emigrano oltre confine. Capita anche che alcuni gruppi esteri si accasino da noi. Proprio come questa incandescente band di Dublino che ha licenziato il suo primo album per la piemontese Nicotine (cd) e l’emiliana Tornado Ride (lp). Da più parti si dice che i Things siano la next big thing europea del neo garage’n’roll. Ed è una sacrosanta verità. Questa è gente che fa revival coi controcazzi. Mastica, digerisce e vomita frattaglie di Sonics, Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, Stooges, Gun Club, Birthday Party e Cramps con stupefacente facilità. Il risultato sono 13 frecce acuminate che vanno tutte a segno, tra accelerazioni e frenate repentine che ‘sti pazzi, capeggiati dall’incredibile frontman Neilo, riescono a gestire con rara maestria. Disco (quasi) imperdibile.

Some Kind of Kick by JJ - www.planettrash.nl

Niet alles op Nicotine Records kan mij bekoren, maar regelmatig brengt dit Italiaanse platenlabel een plaat uit met een hoge wow-factor. Some Kind Of Kick is zo'n release. The Things is een band uit Dublin. Niet direct de plek op aarde die men voor ogen heeft als het gaat om uitzinnige garagerock. Laat het nou precies dat zijn wat Some Kind Of Kick is geworden. Een plaat vol furieuze rock dat rechtstreeks afkomstig is uit de krochten waar bands als The Cramps, The Gun Club en Oblivians ooit uit zijn gekropen om hun vunzigheden met ons te kunnen delen. Dertien killertracks van vijf Ieren die schijt hebben aan modieus gedoe en de essentie van smerige garagerock hebben vastgelegd op Some Kind Of Kick. Lang leve Nicotine Records voor het uitbrengen van deze plaat! Eurosonic staat voor de deur en The Things is precies de band die ik graag zou willen zien op zo'n festival. Niet dat het er de komende editie inzit, maar als er op het festival plaats is voor een band als The Staggers dan mag The Things dankzij deze release eigenlijk niet ontbreken. Ondertussen zing ik het wel uit met Some Kind Of Kick

Some Kind of Kick by The Barman - I94 Bar

Let's put it on the table up front and say that the title track from the debut album by this Dublin band on Italian label Nicotine is one of the scuzziest, rocking-est explosions of fuzz-and-organ-borne snot that I've inhaled in 2008. It's a single and a nine-carat, soiled gem. Carry it over an international border at your own risk.

It's as if The Things went out after dark to pick up stray body parts from the Cramps, Gene Vincent and the Music Machine and made their own monster. They sound like not-so-distant cousins of Californians the Lords of Altamont in the way they weave a wall of organ into waves of fuzz on top of an irresistible beat. In both instances the engine room is top class and that makes all the difference.

So seeing as they're an Irish band maybe folks should refer to them as "The Tings". While I'm at it I'll point out that "Some Kind of Kick" is in fact the third, sorry, turd song. It's a cheap shot to make fun of Irish accents, but I'm part County Cork so I got a right, especially after a few pints of the dark and frothy stuff.

But back to the music and "Make Her Cry" is playing as I type: The demented Evlis-on-drugs vocals of Neilo Thing and vamping organ from Ruairi Paxton are laying out a twin-pronged testimonial. Guitarist Vinny Duggan is sounding especially sharp before he backs off and makes room for the handclaps and a drop-out to kick in. There's plenty more where that came from.

"I Can't Feel" is a slow burner where Neilo pushes his vocal right out onto the edge. "Moving On" bounces around like a classroom of kiddies on red cordial. The bent guitar and vocal of "Salute The Sun" is so much unlike the yoga position of the same name (don't ask) that you're entitled to ask the Maharishi what he put into the brown rice he fed the Beatles and how The Things got to eat the left-overs.

"Psycho Lover" is the most overtly '60s tune, a carpet-bombing run of clattering drums, reverb twang and surging organ. Like most people in rock roll, The Things work with a limited toolbox but they really make the most of what's at their disposal. Good songs also help.

Closer "Sandy Tells Me" is a lilting country ballad by the ghost of The King with Spector-esque production touches. It's a piece of aural relief after what's gone before but there's no sense in doing the expected.

I never thought of Dublin's River Liffey as the most picturesque waterway, so if The Things claim it as their personal piece of swampdom, then that's fine with me.

Some Kind of Kick by Emanuele Tamagnini - www.nerdsattack.net

Inflazionata. Vituperata. Abusata. Deviata. La parola “garage” negli ultimi anni ne ha viste di tutti i colori. Un appropriamento indebito da parte di molti. Quei molti a cui basta sentirsi “cool”, vestire vintage, avere quattro vinili in bella mostra, confermare di conoscere ‘Nuggets’, appendere un poster in bianco e nero, suonare sozzo e coi soliti quattro riff. C’è poi chi il garage rock lo suona sul serio. E’ il caso dei dublinesi The Things che tornano con un album semplicemente avvincente. Revivalismo. Ma con quel quid aggiuntivo che li rende di una spanna superiore alla media europea. Un bracere di influenze sputate a pieni giri che riguardano Fuzztones, The Murder City Devils, il suffisso “psycho” caro ai Cramps, la corrente elettrica succhiata dalla centrale di smistamento Detroit e tutta l’orgia elementare del garage ‘60 made in USA. Completa l’opera quel pazzoide schizzato del cantante Neilo. Dal vivo autentico magnete d’attrazione. The Things: in culo a tutto!