Coachwhips

San Francisco’s Coachwhips have been amassing an impressive discography since 2003. Hot on the heels of the much-loved Bangers vs. Fuckers comes their third album in two years, Peanut Butter and Jelly Live at the Ginger Minge. Misleading with its title, Ginger Minge isn’t a live album in the sense of recording a gig in front of an audience. Instead, it’s the band laying it all down on tape live in the studio (more likely a basement, or shack even, knowing them), raw as hell and crazier than ever before. The trio seems to be in an even bigger rush this time around, pumping out ten tracks in 18 minutes, but they have that band-aid sensation where the quicker it comes off the better. The band’s dirty, break-neck paced garage punk seems a little tighter and punchier, which for a band that doesn’t focus so much on improving could be accidental. Mary Ann McNamara’s organ has been beefed up a bit, in order to deal with John Dwyer’s manic chicken-squawk vocals and dangerously fuzzed out guitar, enhancing, what I feel is, an understated aspect of their game. While the albums keep getting brisker, Coachwhips somehow keep getting better. Let’s hope by their eighth album they’ll be the greatest band on earth, but not by delivering a three-minute full-length, which is definitely possible.