"Our Generation ***SOLD OUT***"
CD $15 (L&L016)
Nine of the most sizzling garage pop songs you're likely to hear in a long while! What the Mosquitoes may lack in budget, they make up for with melody, charm, and pure simplistic genius in abundance. Recorded to eight-track in a loungeroom in inner-suburban Melbourne, the songs on "Our Generation" have inspired references to early-Elvis Costello, Beat Happening, The Pastels, and "a Ramones you could take home to meet your mum". Drew Cramer's effortless turns-of-phrase will leave you floored, and his classic sense of melody will tickle you while you're down there. Features Mark Monnone (The Lucksmiths/L&L label bigwig) on drums. Don't let this album slip through the cracks!
1) Hong Kong Flu
2) Lacklustre Day
4) It's So Hard
5) Further & Farther
6) Teenage Frustration
7) The Sea & The City
8) Shit Outta Luck
"I find The Mosquitoes' unwashed jangle rather fetching. Raw power pop dished up cafeteria style by two optically challenged hipsters, Marky and Hound. It's well prepared, served hot and heaping with hooks; so like a goddamn mosquito, you won't go hungry feasting.
The Mosquitoes did some shows early this year, before Hound trucked it back to San Francisco. I was present for the last one at the Rob Roy where the band claimed to be sleepy and suffering from physical exhaustion. At this performance, Marky, after exchanging pleasantries with the crowd, propelled the tunes forward with an anxious clobbering of beats. Hound simply dug into his bag of riffs, his knees darting inward, nearly rubbing together like the wings of a mosquito. The guitar sound complimented his feelings — ragged, untidy yet somehow sweet. If it sets in, you will all go down. It's a killer, whoa-ah, he sings, in his ode to a particularly nasty strain of influenza.
On Our Generation, Hound exercises his well-endowed knack for sing-along lyrics and bopping tunes. Nine, treble heavy surges of clever suggestions, ruminations and recollections. Thoughts on turning 30 when you feel 18, refreshingly devoid of angst. Hound gives great melody that bops you in the head by about the third go and once the hooks are inside, they are tough to blow.
To me, it strikes a nerve I'll never forget: summer of '94, racing home from work, doused in blue collar dust, windows down with the stereo jacked, depending on Elvis Costello's My Aim is True to drive me into a state of nasty exuberance. Our Generation, recorded quickly and cheaply on borrowed equipment, has a similar punk spirit. I have eroded the plastic from excessive playback.
" Beat Magazine, March 24, 2004