I have done TJ Cabot a great disservice with the nature of my coverage of his recent run of home-recorded output. In focusing on rumor mongering over the disintegration of his musical partnership with his backing band Thee Artificial Rejects (and in particular, his turbulent relationship with multi-instrumentalist, street preacher, and suspected embezzler Millhouse Deville), I have shifted the focus away from the stunning quality of the recordings themselves — which on their own merits stand as top-tier specimens of 21st Century budget punk. The newly-released Pissin Ammo is the third in TJ's trilogy of digital EPs released this year, following February's SD Action and July's King Grove. Cumulatively, these three releases form an album's worth of material that rivals the best of this year's punk rock LPs. And having received the sad news that Phone Jerks are no more, I find myself valuing these recordings all the more deeply. Thus it serves no point for me to mention how a debate over pizza toppings or a broken promise to not draft Calle Jarnkrok in fantasy hockey may have led to TJ Cabot having to record Pissin Ammo all by his lonesome. Far more significant is that this is some of his best stuff to date — probably his most essential release since his legendary and now out-of-print debut Demos Recorded in the Anus of the Maritimes came out in early pandemic times and saved us all from eternal despair.
Pissin Ammo is nothing short of what we've come to expect from TJ Cabot. It's raw, raging, and equally conducive to mild toe-tapping and the thrusting of one's fist in the direction of deserving targets. As always, TJ kicks up a blistering mish-mash of turn-of-the-millennium budget trash, early American punk rock, and no-fucks-given snot-core. "Explanations" finds TJ temporarily possessed by "I Got A Right" era Iggy Pop. "J.A.G. Turned Me Into A Mutant" pulls off the "hardcore Devo" thing as well as I've ever heard it pulled off. The Wonderful Grand Band cover "Spin Out" is a stone cold banger and an indispensable lesson in Maritimes popular culture history. Saving the best for last, the title track is so full of piss and vinegar that it almost makes Phone Jerks sound like a yacht rock band. What a fine way to cap off a trilogy! The sound quality is absolutely textbook for a budget/garage punk release. You're always walking that fine line where you want to retain the savage rawness of a recording without making it sound like shit. With James O'Toole working his mastering magic, these tracks hit that sweet spot just north of sounding like shit.
I know a $14 investment in three digital EPs is a big ask in inflationary times, but I think TJ Cabot's entire 2022 trilogy essentially functions like what might have been the top punk rock album of 2004. Perhaps some enterprising and progressively-minded label folk will bid for the opportunity to compile these releases onto a long playing record. It's a bummer that I will never have occasion to write about Phone Jerks again, but that band did its job and made garage punk great again. And something tells me that all the ex-Jerks (TJ Cabot included) will be regularly featured on these virtual pages for many years to come.
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