As a lad growing up in sun-kissed Laguna Beach, future garage rock hero Ty Segall was weaned on a healthy diet of rock 'n' roll oldies, a formative influence that would later feed his own creative efforts, which will be on display at Echoplex on Thursday. "It's funny," the 23-year-old rocker said last week during a phone interview, "when you're really young, you don't look at the Kingsmen or the Kinks as garage. That kind of stuff was oldies." 

By the time he turned 14, Segall had discovered punk rock, taking inspiration from the rebellious music of bands like the Misfits, the Ramones and Minor Threat. But it wasn’t until he moved to San Francisco in 2005 that he discovered psychedelic music, a mind-bending, mellowing influence that has been a part of his musical soul ever since.

“I got obsessed with the 13th Floor Elevators, which made me dive head first into that kind of stuff,” he said. “I was 18 when I heard ‘You’re Gonna Miss Me.’ That song is a gateway drug, because it’s totally a garage song, it’s totally just like the Kinks… but the way they recorded it was psychotic-sounding. I feel like that’s the difference. Because a lot of psychedelic bands, the riffs are pretty similar to a straightforward garage song, but then they got really weird in the studio.”

 
A couple years back, Portland’s irreverent trio Mean Jeans splattered the punk rock scene like a meatball sub hurled at a wall during a cafeteria food fight. Derided as derivative Ramones knock-offs by some, and hailed as tuneful and hilarious pop-punk geniuses by others, the band has steadfastly stayed true to its party-hardy cause over the course of a handful of seven-inch singles and one outstanding long-player from Dirtnap Records. Saturday night they’ll spread their tongue-in-cheek gospel of PBR tallboys, ripped jeans, cold pizza, backyard keggers and wasted skater culture at their Los Angeles debut at downtown’s 5 Stars Bar.

Visually, the three pop-punk pranksters –- Billy Jeans on guitar, Jeans Wilder on drums and Howie Doodat on bass –- conjure up a presence that’s a cross between Scooby Doo’s Shaggy and Jeff Spicoli, Sean Penn’s iconic surfer-stoner from “Fast Times at Ridgemont High.” Sonically –- with a catalogue of gloriously lowbrow and highly danceable songs like "Let’s Pogo B4 U Go-go," "Stoned 2 the Bone" and “Party Animal” –- the Mean Jeans toss all seriousness out the window in favor of surprisingly well-wrought, relentlessly melodic, foot-stomping party anthems.

The band members took time earlier this week to answer a few questions via email in advance of their first West Coast tour. “We formed as a two-piece in the D.C. area in late 2006,” wrote Jeans Wilder. “Me and Billy Jeans were wrapping up a rap album amongst other things, and we decided to start playing even stupider music ... the song ‘Party Animal’ came out of that first jam session, and the rest is mystery.”

Canadian rock 'n' soul powerhouse Mark Sultan presents a tough exterior, but deep down he’s a sensitive soul.

If he’s irritated with an audience, he’s not afraid to show it. During an April performance at Spaceland, the singer -- who loathes two kinds of audiences, scenesters and hard-line garage rockers -- admonished a lackluster concertgoer with a copious, curly mohawk, "What, am I bothering you, fro-hawk?" But when a crowd is, said Sultan in an interview this week, “giving forth their attention, you feel responsibility, not because ‘Oh, well, they paid their money and they’re fans.’ More like ‘Oh, these people are letting their heart open up to you,' so you should do the same kind of thing.”

Speaking via phone from Halifax, Canada, the relentlessly creative singer discussed his career, the frustrations of being pigeonholed as a mere garage rock artist, and the joys of a diverse audience in advance of his Friday show at Spaceland.

“I’m not a big fan of labels, as you can imagine,” said Sultan, whose sound has occasionally been labeled "doo-wop garage." His first solo album in three years, “$,” was released in April by Last Gang Records, although he's kept busy in the interim with an array of projects, including the recently disbanded King Khan & BBQ Show (an irreverent, internationally acclaimed two-piece composed of him and his longtime friend and current Vice Records star), the Almighty Defenders (a boozy, gospel-flavored melding of the talents of Sultan, Khan and members of the Black Lips), and his greasy, no-frills rockabilly band, the Ding-Dongs.

He has a deep appreciation for R&B, doo-wop, Italian movie music, prog rock, punk and psychedelic, among other genres, but “the garage rock community,” as he says in disparaging tones, hasn’t always been receptive to his ability to liberally inject his compositions with wide-ranging and surprising combinations of these influences. “It’s like a bunch of faceless geeks who are elitist the way 'Star Trek' fans are elitist,” he said. “I like other things… and I will insert those things into my set, I’ll insert them into my albums. I’m not ashamed of it and I’m not bound to the criticisms of some guy that’s only listened to the Sonics for 10 years straight.”

Some listeners have complained about the sprawling length of some of the songs on “$,” which only served to raise Sultan’s hackles further. He purposely put “Icicles,” a slow-building, eerie 6½-minute epic, as the first cut on the album to “weed out the critical nerds. They’re not going to get past that song and they won’t be able to listen to the record... I really wanted that to be there as kind of an evil opener.”

But the album, perhaps Sultan’s most ambitious and textured effort to date, is well worth the trip. The 13 songs on “$” are bound together by Sultan’s darkly poetic lyrics, experimental instrumentation and powerful voice -– one of the most distinctive in the garage rock genre because of its soulful, aching poignancy. More nuanced and lush than “The Sultanic Verses,” his last solo record for In the Red Records, “$” is a sometimes abrasive and sometimes morose expedition into a sonic world that is a heady combination of the sinister and the divine.

Speaking of making the album, he said, “I was just more into... adding more instrumentation and more experimentation to the actual core of the song. Or if I had an idea, I’d just want to explode it and see where the fragments lay and then connect them somehow.”

He may have alienated the garage rock elite with his refusal to adhere to the restrictions of the genre, but Sultan still lays claim to a surprisingly diverse audience. When he last swung through L.A. in mid-April, the crowd was a healthy mix of young and old, male and female, and some decidedly non-garage rock types. “I’m glad to see a cross-section,” he said. “Like last time in L.A., these two hippie-looking dudes baked me a big apple pie with a pentagram on it, and we were all eating pie after the show, and I was like, ‘That’s awesome.’ I love when people actually get something from the music and there’s actually a modicum of love. Some people get my goat and some people make me angry, and I can be a real [jerk]  sometimes, but ultimately, deep down, I’m a nice person and when someone shows love to me, I’ll show it right back.”

Take Sultan’s song “Status,” from “$,” for a spin here:

Mark Sultan-Status

-- Jason Gelt

Mark Sultan at Spaceland, 1717 Silverlake Blvd., Silver Lake, Friday at 8:30 p.m. Tickets are $10 in advance, $12 at the door.

Photo: Mark Sultan. Credit: Last Gang Records

Music legends as diverse as Lou Reed and Smokey Robinson have sung the praises of Detroit vocalist Nolan Strong, and yet his star remains tarnished and dusty 33 years after his death. Next Tuesday's release of "Daddy Rockin' Strong: A Tribute to Nolan Strong and the Diablos" will rectify that omission, dishing out 13 modern interpretations of the dirty, doo-wop-flavored R&B that, for a time, made Strong one of Motor City's biggest stars.

"When it comes to Detroit music, Nolan deserves to be mentioned alongside Motown, Iggy Pop, the MC5 and the White Stripes," said Rich Tupica, whose label, The Wind Records (itself named after one of Strong's biggest hits), will release the compilation. 

Strong and his backup band, the Diablos, were barely out of high school when they signed with Fortune Records in 1954. Thanks to the family-owned label, which magnanimously recorded everything from lowdown local blues to bouncing polka ditties, Strong and the Diablos charted nationally with "The Wind" and scored a No. 1 local radio hit with "Mind Over Matter." The good-looking, charismatic Strong was soon tooling around town in a brand new Cadillac, hounded by smitten female fans and hunted by jealous boyfriends.

On the heels of one sold-out, impossible-to-find and highly lauded 7-inch single, Melbourne, Australia, indie-pop duo Super Wild Horses' debut long-player, "Fifteen," is finally available from HoZac Records.

The band's stripped-down, fuzzy, post-punk sound is propelled by a simple formula of guitar, bass and keyboard, which youthful band members Amy and Hayley freely switch among. Duos can be as problematic as one-man bands in that their limited resources often deliver a half-realized product that could benefit from a few more brushstrokes, but Super Wild Horses somehow manage to pull off an enjoyable record despite the challenges. Their sound may be primitive and untutored, but many of their songs feature enough hooks and attractive flourishes to lift them out of the naive lo-fi rut.

"Fifteen" has a loose, extemporaneous texture that occasionally strays toward a torpid repetitiveness, especially in the latter half of the album. A little sunny fuzziness goes a long way, after all, and "Fifteen" glows with enough sunny fuzziness to power several albums. But Super Wild Horses makes up for it with several earnest, well-wrought successes that are buoyed by a distinct pop twist. Highlights include the careless, lilting "I Want You," the straightforward teenage love ballad, "Adrian," and the pulsing, dreamlike "Golden Town," which dissolves in the end into a foggy blanket of crashing cymbals and stellar guitar work.

--Jason Gelt

Super Wild Horses

"Fifteen"

HoZac Records

Three stars (out of four)

Get a taste of Super Wild Horses with the music video for "Golden Town," from "Fifteen."

Gentleman Jesse is proof positive that punk and pop need not make uncomfortable bedfellows. The Gentleman (né Jesse Smith), who will make a rare Southland appearance with his band Wednesday night, got his start plunking bass in the Atlanta garage punk combo Carbonas, a fast and ferocious outfit that released a handful of vinyl singles and a couple of searing long-players before subsiding into inactivity.

Jesse's roots may be punk, but when he moved on to form his own band a couple years back, he went all-out pop. Power-pop, that is. His 2008 debut album for Douchemaster Records, "Introducing Gentleman Jesse and His Men," delves into territory originally mined in the late '70s and early '80s by bands such as the Nerves, the Plimsouls and countless lesser-known acts. These natty rockers sported suits, skinny ties and floppy hair while dishing out sublime pop rock that incorporated barnstorming melodies, euphoric vocal harmonies, economical arrangements and bravura guitar riffs.

No one could accuse Gentleman Jesse of being ignorant of history. So perfectly does he adhere to the musical conventions of a bygone genre that listening to his records can be an almost eerie experience. It's no surprise that Jesse and his men backed Nerves alumnus and power-pop hero Paul Collins during his 2009 tour, bringing the connection between old and new full circle.

Power-pop licks are increasingly common in the garage rock world, as evidenced by Vancouver, Canada's Tranzmitors, Ontario's Marvelous Darlings and Pacific Northwestern acts such as the Cute Lepers and the late Exploding Hearts. Like them, Gentleman Jesse and His Men skillfully mine the past for fresh inspiration in the present. It's been two years since he released new material (though a new seven-inch from Douchemaster is forthcoming in September), but his live performances are always something to anticipate.

-- Jason Gelt

Take Gentleman Jesse's "You Don't Have To (If You Don't Want To)," for a spin below.

Donthaveto

Gentleman Jesse and his Men at Five Stars Bar, 267 S. Main St., downtown, Wednesday at 9 p.m.

Photo: Gentleman Jesse. Credit: Douchemaster Records

When mammoth 10-piece afro-funk instrumental band Budos Band played the Echo more than a year ago, bandleader Jared Tankel took a break from his enormous tenor saxophone to exhort the enthusiastic crowd, "Those are some new ones. You think they should be on 'Budos Band III'? We’re working on it, and it should be out soon.”

"Soon" morphed into nearly a year and a half, but the wait is finally over. "Budos Band III" hit record stores on Tuesday, marking the Staten Island instrumental outfit's third foray on Neil Sugarman's retro-soul label, Daptone Records. Daptone is also responsible for the gritty sounds of soul diva Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings and instrumental platters from the Mighty Imperials and the Sugarman 3, but Budos Band remains one of the label's star players.

The fine state of Mississippi has a musical heritage as wide and deep as the indolent muddy river it takes its name from. We can thank the 20th state for giving us legendary artists such as Willie Dixon, Howlin'   Wolf, Charles Feathers, Conway Twitty, Sam Cooke, Jimmy Reed and Bo Diddley, to name a tiny smidgen of the blues-, jazz- and country-soaked talent that has gone on to captivate the world. Less well known is Mississippi's punk rock heritage, but thanks to the good folks at Memphis, Tenn.'s Goner Records, that may be changing.

One of the label's newest signees, Jackson's Overnight Lows, is currently in the midst of a rigorous U.S. tour, which will land them for two nights running in our very own Southland. It's a rare chance to get an up close and personal view of the new wave of Southern-fried garage rock 'n' roll that has been boiling over in recent years in the form of Jack-O & the Tennessee Tearjerkers, King Louie's Missing Monuments and, of course, the late, great Jay Reatard. Overnight Lows have carved out their own personal brand of to-the-point punk rock, distinguished by blazing guitar riffs, shouted vocals and a pugnacious, sweaty charm that storms through the door and back window in three minutes or less (typically, more like one minute and 20 seconds).

Band leaders and singers Marsh and Daphne Nabors, also on guitar and bass respectively, are joined by multi-tasking New Orleans chef Paul Artigues (who reportedly once wowed Guy Fieri, host of the Food Network's "Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives," with his boudin-andouille hash) on the skins. On the band's debut long-player, "City of Rotten Eyes," foot-stomping songs like "Eyesore," "Lipstick Burn" and "Static Scars" create a tumultuous, decadent and slam-danceable sonic portrait of our troubled world.

-- Jason Gelt

Check out "Lipstick Burn," below.

04 Lipstick Burn

Overnight Lows at Harold's Place, 1908 S. Pacific Ave., San Pedro, Friday at 10 p.m., and at Redwood Bar & Grill, 316 W. 2nd. St., downtown, Saturday at 10 p.m.

Photo: Overnight Lows. Credit: Goner Records

At the tender age of 23, San Francisco's incredibly prolific nouveau garage/psych tunesmith Ty Segall is poised on the brink of widespread success. With a feverish output that has included four full-length albums and a handful of seven-inch singles (which doesn't include his work with other bands, including Thee Oh Sees and Sic Alps, or his split LP with distortion heavy British garage combo Black Time), he's been burning the candle at both ends for the last couple of years. All that blood, sweat and tears is starting to pay off: Segall was a cover boy in the June issue of punk rock 'zine Maximum Rock 'n' Roll and has recently received accolades from high-profile sources such as Spin and Pitchfork.

With good reason. The basement-recorded "Melted," his latest album from Memphis garage-punk stalwart Goner Records, is a brain-frying excursion into poppy psychedelia that incorporates acoustic arrangements, slow tempos and influences that range from grunge to garage and beyond. With the album's colorful tapestry of catchy and crafted songs, Segall has moved away from the lo-fi aesthetic of many of his earlier recordings to embrace a cleaner, more polished rock 'n' roll approach. Segall has described it as sounding like "cherry cola, snow cones and taffy."

But that doesn't mean he's lost any of the blazing garage-rock energy that fires up his live performances, as attendees at Friday night's Spaceland show will discover. A recent all-ages performance at the Smell, powered by lithe and thunderous songs such as the fuzzy, falsetto-driven "Caesar" (which concludes on the record with a flute solo) and the stomping Troggs-influenced "My Sunshine," worked the youthful audience into a frothing sea of flailing, tattooed arms and bobbing heads. Friday's show, at a bigger venue with a better sound system and the availability of alcohol, is likely to be even better.

-- Jason Gelt

Take a listen to "Caesar" below:

02 Caesar

Ty Segall at Spaceland, 1717 Silver Lake Blvd., L.A. 8:30 p.m. Friday. Tickets are $8 advance, $12 at the door.

Photo: Ty Segall. Credit: Goner Records

Chicago’s premiere garage and nouveau psychedelic punk rock label, HoZac Records, has finally unleashed its summer releases. Along with seven-inch singles from Texas’ youthful Fungi Girls, Windy City bubble-gum popsters Sleepovers and a mind-numbing, gut-churning slab of psych-punk wax from the People’s Temple, the erstwhile label has also released the debut full-length from Austin, Texas’ Woven Bones.

“In and Out and Back Again” is a welcome addition to the Bones' catalog, which previously consisted of only a couple of seven-inches. A heavy, driving force to be reckoned with, the album is more of a sonic experience than a collection of individual songs. The tracks stand tough on their own, including the dirty, throbbing “Creepy Bone,” the lithe “Couldn’t Help But Stare” and the mesmerizing “If It Feels Alright,” but the album is best enjoyed in one feverish gulp.

Over in under a half-hour, “In and Out and Back Again,” lurches inexorably forward, chewing up and spitting out anything that gets in its way. The album's cavernous, live feel makes listening to it a bit like standing at the back of a thunderous rock club without ear plugs, praying that your cochleas will survive. Frontman Andrew Burr, a recent Florida-to-Texas transplant, doesn’t so much sing his lyrics as let them trail from his lips in a wounded, grungy syrup that at times rises into a piercing hiccup. The solid rhythm section of Matty on bass and Carolyn on drums keeps it all tied together in an ominous and fuzzy package, providing the perfect backdrop for Burr’s occasional apocalyptic guitar passages.

Take a listen to “If It Feels Alright,” below.

Woven Bones - If It Feels Alright

-- Jason Gelt

Woven Bones
“In and Out and Back Again”
HoZac Records
Four stars (Out of four)

Holly Golightly has traversed many a mile since her days as a member of the lo-fi British all-girl garage rock group Thee Headcoatees. Since launching a solo career in 1995, she has graced the music world with more than 15 albums, not to mention career highlights such as collaborations with luminaries like Mudhoney and Jack White and inclusion on Jim Jarmusch's "Broken Flowers" soundtrack.

Over the years, the down-to-earth garage queen has increasingly immersed herself in the gritty world of American roots music. She has fished for inspiration in the robust waters of blues, folk and country, but her new album, "Medicine County," from Transdreamer Records, finds her more firmly planted in the rhythms and nuances of Southern roots rock than ever before. And with good reason. The British expat, who now tends to chickens and horses on a rural Georgia farm, recorded “Medicine County" in an abandoned, recently foreclosed church. 

“It wasn't a very big one.  It was a little country church, not a cathedral,” says Golightly via phone, en route to tonight’s show in San Diego. “There’s an awful lot of them in varying degrees of decay. It still had the organ in it and we got loaned the key by a friend of ours who was caretaking while it was for sale.”

The album, Golightly’s third collaboration with the Brokeoffs (a.k.a. one-man band Lawyer Dave, a former Texan whose musical background includes such diverse pursuits as country, blues and heavy metal) is a no-frills, gutsy tapestry crowded with country fiddling, bluesy ballads and slow slide guitar. Asked about the lightning speed three-week recording process, Golightly says, “I don't know what I would do if I had more than that amount of time in the studio. I'd lose interest. I'd lose the will to live if I had to listen to something over and over again that many times.”

The creative spontaneity behind “Medicine County” makes the album shine with a homespun warmth and good humor. From the strolling, reverb-laden duet "Murder in My Mind" to the blues stomper "When He Comes” to the slow, haunting country lament "Dearly Departed," the record explores the rocky, dusty terrain of American roots music with skill and genuine affection. 

Catch Holly Golightly & the Brokeoffs on Wednesday night at Spaceland. Preview "Forget It," the first track on "Medicine County," below.

01 Forget It

-- Jason Gelt

Holly Golightly & the Brokeoffs at Spaceland, 1717 Silver Lake Blvd., L.A. 8:30 p.m. Wednesday. Tickets are $12 advance, $14 at the door.

Photo: Holly Golightly and Lawyer Dave. Credit: Alison Wonderland

Rarely has a band with so little output attracted so much attention: Memphis, Tenn.'s, beguilingly ebullient Magic Kids have released one two-song, seven-inch on their hometown's Goner Records label. Channeling the pop prowess of the likes of Brian Wilson and Phil Spector, the good-natured six-piece was Nylon Magazine's July Band Crush and last month became the latest indie act to sign to Matador Records' True Panther Sounds imprint.

Formed from the ashes of the short-lived Barbaras, a band that imploded when two of its key members joined the late Jay Reatard's touring act, Magic Kids' sparkly, snuggly, bright-eyed sound is tough to resist. Employing a blend of multiple guitars, violins, horns and keyboards, the Kids purvey a heartfelt, energetic blend of feel-good music. Beanpole front man Bennett Foster takes control of the stage in short shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, often gleefully mingling with the audience as he sings warm and fuzzy pop gems like the soaring A-side, "Hey Boy."