The Reatards: Up in the Bedroom, Disasters

The Reatards: Up in the Bedroom, Disasters

Punk’s a weird animal. And the Reatards were the three-legged horse of the punk scene during the late nineties and into the augties. But, ya know what? That’s good.

Disbanding the group, though, served as entrance into high visibility for Jay Reatard. Unfortunately, he didn’t make it to the other side, instead petering out in an excess of attention. At least the man enjoyed a good deal of (underground) success during his final years.

Bed Room Disasters, though, is a compilation of singles and tracks recorded in various bedrooms across Memphis with nary a real studio in sight. Most likely some of these songs shouldn’t have made it on to any cd: the unlistenable “Fashion Victim”, the ridiculous, “Puke on You,” (a rip off of the Boys?) or the Germs-esque “Loretta.”  That’s punk though and the losers are the winners.

Apart from the stuff that’s a bit difficult to get through on Bed Room Disasters, there are a number of covers (Ramones, Saints, Angry Samoans), including “Running Free,” which isn’t exactly a Dead Boys track but lifts the riff and the vocal delivery.  It’s a befitting homage, purposefully or not.

A number of the originals are really stunning, however.  Some great choruses see the light of day like, brought up from the basement or wherever these tracks were birthed - “I gotta rock n roll/Before I loose my mind,” being quant and apropos all at once.

While not every track can be quality, there are a number of sonically competent guitar riffs (“No Turning Back”, “Chuck Taylor’s AllStar Blues”, “Bummer Bitch”).  Now that I’ve praised ‘em, I do have to say that Jay Reatard went on to form The Lost Sounds, whom no one in good conscience vouch for. Surely, the market for weird robot punk hit a peak with the genre becoming engorged during the very early aughties – still though, not that great. But, for some reason the mid to late nineties produced some really passionate punk rock. The Reatards are one of those bands with substandard musicianship, a howling vocalist and that really just means good punk. Today there’s not a band that can churn out the punk like these guys, The Showcase Showdown or The Prostitutes and that’s Americas’ loss.  It seems like keyboards and new wavey drumbeats and fey lead singers are more popular today than authentic anger and drunken teenagers. Oh well, at least we still have reissues and compilations like this one.