stitched up all of this inspiration and appeal with a subtly indigenous thread. Modest dollops purloined from the Beatles and Big Star didn't hurt either. The Big Shot Chronicles is all about honing a new kind of charm - one forged from the lessons of fifteen years of power pop spoils (from both sides of the Atlantic), not to mention the then fertile Paisley Underground hubbub due south in their native California. In the process, they ironed out some of the nascent wrinkles that charmingly evidenced themselves on their debut, Blaze of Glory, three years prior - an album which for better or worse wasn't cut under the most professional of circumstances. Personally, I can't be impartial to Big Shot, if only because it represented my first exposure to Game Theory, eventually leading me into Miller's unfolding universe, up to and including his subsequent foray, The Loud Family.īeyond my slightly indulgent testimonial, the band's not-so-difficult third album found Game Theory settling not merely on a more assured sound, but a signature one at that. in fact, it was reissued in reverse chronological order to this one, almost as if to prioritize it. From what I've been able to gauge from a pretty wide swath of Game Theory aficionados, the albums sandwiching Big Shot (1985's Real Nighttime and '87s double magnum opus Lolita Nation) are the most revered. With Gil Ray's pounding thunderclap drums and the late Scott Miller's rapid fire spoken/sung cadence leading the propulsive, punky charge, 'Here It Is.' asserts it's presence like nothing else the band had committed to tape prior.

If there was ever an anthemic, clarion call to commence a Game Theory record 'Here it Is Tomorrow,' the opening salvo of the band's third proper album, The Big Shot Chronicles, clearly takes the cake. Per Discogs, it looks like three more MC albums followed. The garage standard, 'I Can Only Give You Everything' is given a new coat of cookie batter to sublime effect I might add. From the vigorous lead off number, 'You Just Fade Away,' to the slammin' cowpunk surge of 'Too Much Hamburgers,' the quartet manages to keep the bulk of Flesh, Trash & Heat at a rolling boil with bite and sneer for miles.

Specializing in wailin' garage rawk-cum-punk, the Cookies approximated later era Lime Spiders (think Cave Comes Alive) fronted by a mouthpiece ( Mike Eriksson) with a thing for Stan Ridgway. The Maryland Cookies were in fact not from The Old Line state, rather.Sweden.

Sorry I haven't been able to give you much this week, but you'll probably find this humdinger a nice asset to the collection.

From here we go sublime rar