Baby Shakes' defection from New York City to Atlanta was always intended to be a temporary move. In 2006, the black-miniskirt- and fishnet-flaunting trio of Mary Blount (vocals/guitar), Judy Hsu (guitar) and Claudia Gonzales (bass) migrated south to concentrate on playing music without worrying about the high price of the Big Apple.
The fruits of their labor are finally starting to take shape as the group's third offering comes in the form of a red, vinyl, heart-shaped 10-inch EP via Rob's House Records.
The packaging caught the eye of so many record collectors that Rob's House completely sold out of the limited edition pressing of 600 copies before it was available to retailers.
Such high demand for a three-song record is an impressive feat for anyone, especially three young ladies who previously had only two singles under their belt. Carbonas' drummer and producer Dave Rahn has spent the last few years moonlighting with Baby Shakes, which has proven to be a time of intense artistic incubation for the group.
Presentation of the record aside, the opening grooves of "Tell Me Now," the snap of the snare drum and cascading three-chord rock 'n' roll melodies take shape with razor-sharp precision. As the chirping, vocal coos kick in, there is a sense of control over the song's direction that is much more clear-cut than any of the group's prior singles. "Come On, Babe" confirms the marked refinement of Baby Shakes' speedy and sugar-sweet brand of pop and punk rock.
On the flip side, "Baby, It's You" reels like an amped-up cousin to Dolly Parton's anti-work anthem, "9 to 5." The bubble-gum-chewing beat of each song is absurdly simple, mixed with choruses that ooze heartbreak with stock lines about "dancing until the night is gone." But the direct delivery is refreshingly trouble-free. It's the kind of giddy and girly pop one would expect to hear on a red, heart-shaped record – kitschy and infectious by design from every angle.
Beck and Alabama Shakes...that's about it. I'm sure there's an unknown or two I would…
Well, this years Music Midtown sucks!
I'm pretty sure he was 19.
3 people apparently love handing over an extra 40% in fees for nothing in return…
Dang. I thought they would name some actual headliners.