SCQ Rating: 74%
My turntable had until recently been off-limits, boxed-up for months while Skeleton Crew Quarterly moved its headquarters out of Ottawa. That span of time was oppressive enough without knowing the riff-packed sweet spot laying in wait behind Slimer’s immaculate album-art. It may not be glow-in-the-dark like Dog Day’s Deformer, a prior Fundog release, but Slimer reveals a no-frills foursome basking in authentic garage hooks and DIY slap-dashery.
The title track achieves the feat of getting two different hooks plastered to my brain; the opening seesaw of guitars exploring high and low registers and then the punishing brilliance of Cold Warps’ distorted middle ground. B-side “Dream Creepin’” keeps the momentum going like a two-way chorus, the first stomping through lyrical warnings and the latter a surf-tinged crest of expansion. Both songs depart on salacious grounds, making me wish they’d committed each composition to another minute or two. But admittedly that might negate the blitz that Cold Warps clearly thrives on, of executing upbeat slacker-rock quickly and cleverly.
Slimer’s whole storm passes in less than five minutes, a brevity by which some listeners may scoff as too impractical for a physical listening experience. Yet this seven-inch feels more like a collectors item than anything else; Cold Warps’ foreshadowing of some awesome maturation on the power-pop horizon.