General Reviews
...Awright, so it's OK to be new wave again, at least in some circles. and in some ways it's true: wavers can wear some pretty freaky things that make the most generic, uniform-wearing gutterpunk look absolutely formulaic. But hell, I don't give a fuck about what people wear, I wanna hear some screaming tunes. And Portland's Epoxies come through in this case, and look like new wave freaks to boot. Spasmodically engineered, culled from the likes of X-Ray Spex, DEVO, with a little Go-Go's and Kim Wilde thrown in, check out their new self titled LP on Dirtnap. A warped forest of Casio synth, femme vocals, and weird background singing and noise...
- Wez Lundry, Thrasher Magazine July 2002
Okay, the show I'm really excited about is the Epoxies and Fabulous Disaster at the Bottom of the Hill on December 16th. New wave and lesbians make for a great mix, but so does vodka and grapefruit juice. I think this Monday's going to be a Greyhound night. Last time the Epoxies were in town we all ended up at someone's house and partied until 5 in the morning. I don't remember that much except that there was lots of black and white striped shirts, we were reduced to drinking warm Caronas, and someone's roommate got very angry cuz there was a missing chainsaw. The Epoxies rule. Not only do they play the best new wave/punk since Oingo Boingo, but they like to go to stranger's houses and drink warm beer. They're also from Portland, which is real cool, cuz no one good comes from Portland ('cept for the Obituaries). The other cool thing about the Epoxies is that the people who go to see them tend to dress up funny and do the pogo. Lots of people wear sunglesses even though it's dark, and girls have been known to make odd jungle bird sounds between songs.
- Fat Mike's Pick Shows for December '02
After Saturday's show at Plant 51 in San Jose, Portland synth punks the Epoxies blow away Bottom of the Hill with Fabulous Disaster. Should be a kick ass show, no doubt about it. The Epoxies would have been too punk to play with new wave bands in the real 1980's, but the punks would've appreciated them and had a couple of their records in their collection. Now, they're the the standard bearers for the newest version of usually god awful 80's revisionism. As one of the millions who actually active music fans in the 1880's, I fully endorse the Epoxies. They aren't aping the lame bands that rode off of new wave into superstardom (think Power Station, Wham, etc.), they're fun, edgy, and everything that genre could've been. If Duran Duran is new wave's Creed, then The Epoxies is new wave's Melvins. A.k.a. "Street" with chops that don't stop.
- Jesse Luscious' Pick Shows for December '02
Portland, Oregon, is creating some unique breeds these days. The Epoxies are the resurgence of an inescapably pleasurable combination of punk and new wave, and the result on the band's self-titled debut is really short and upbeat songs, flashy hooks, very competent musicianship, and damn smart, simple lyrics. This is an album that has the potential to entertain multiple generations of listeners simultaneously in under 30 minutes. And best of all, the band will be making a stop on Friday at Lumpy's in Davenport.
Some might wince at the thought of obnoxious synthesizer making its way back onto the airwaves, but when a band is doing it well in 2002, it's kind of cool.
It's also cool to use pseudonyms. Maybe we're just sick of having to remember all of those musicians' last names, or maybe it's a stab at the possibility of mainstream recognition. After all, everybody knows who Snoop Dogg is. Either way, Roxy Epoxy (vocals), Dr. Grip (drums), Shock Diode (bass/vocals), Viz Spectrum (guitar), and F.M. Static (synthesizer/vocals), vinyl pants and all, are ready to go when you are. This begs the questions: Are the Epoxies merely a band that longs for simpler times, are they marketing geniuses, or are they your newest drinking buddies?
They're probably all of these things, but it's impossible to put too much stock into any of it when the music makes you feel this good. When two hedonistic genres collide, it's a veritable swingers party in your ears.
Yet when the subject matter is apocalyptic relationship dilemmas and space-aged angst, I'm not sure if I should look back to a dismal past or a gloriously frightening future. On "We're So Small," Roxy and company reflect, "Please don't you worry baby, we won't feel a thing / They say it's over in a flash / A hydrogen solution to our suffering / All our problems turn to dust and ash." This album begs you to think about how you'd spend the eve of the end of the world, and that's what both defines the work and makes it exhilarating. The band has managed to use very dated genres to encapsulate a sense of desperation and longing that didn't find itself significantly creeping into music until Kurt Cobain, Eddie Vedder, and Rivers Cuomo saturated their songs with it.
Great songwriting generally stems from experience, and it's apparent that the Epoxies are experienced; they're great songwriters. "Please Please" starts with a staccato synth run that remains the base throughout the song, fuzzy guitar accentuates the instrumentation, and the rhythm players bring it all together as Roxy lays down her soon-to-be trademark vocals, pining, "Please please, I don't think this world is right / Take me, take me back to space tonight." You'll want to go with her.
The work that the Epoxies are producing transcends the genres that they are producing it in. As a result, this album becomes more than just songs, because it combines the knee-jerk reaction of familiar sugary sounds that you are sure to have heard before with emotion that isn't usually present in bands that use duct tape as a fashion accessory. The Epoxies will do for popular music what The Strokes and White Stripes have done for rock and roll this year.
This album is the perfect accompaniment to one drink and two cigarettes before you go to check out the Epoxies' live show, which has been touted as a "time warp" where you'll "jump up and down and wiggle and giggle and boogalew, and then … go back to the bathroom and put on more makeup." If the show is half as interesting as the album, then that time warp may pull you into some crazy disco-ball future as well, and I wouldn't miss that party for the world … or the end of it for that matter.
-Tom Swanson, River Cities Reader
The Epoxies stink. No seriously, they stink like a true punk rock band should, with the hearty aroma of weeks on end in a cramped van and too many tiny, packed shows in the same sweat stained clothing. Which doesn't exactly make for a pleasant olfactory experience for the audience that piled into Red Devil Records in Petaluma tonight when when they made a quick stop to drink beer and play some Rock n' Roll. Fortunately, the auditory (and visual) part of the evening's entertainment was more than enough to make up for it.
Hailing from Portland, Oregon, the Epoxies are a 5 piece punk band that looks like they were dragged kicking and screaming out of the early '80s. Frontwoman Roxy Epoxy rocks like a woman possessed, shouting insanely catchy melodies melodies while doing something vaguely resembling dancing, but infinitely cooler and more spastic. Moxie Static's occasional vocals punch up the sound those few times that the songs really need to be punched up, and the rest of the time he occupies himself by weaving buzzing SH-101 lines between the strands of guitar tossed out by Viz Spectrum. Viz and bassist Kid Polymer throw in some synchronized guitar theatrics every now and then while Dr. Grip pounds out the old 4 beats with the sirt of precision that looks like it's teetering this close to total anarchy.
The Blondie comparisons are inevitable but apt, as the Epoxies build their sound out of the same solid songwriting that made Blodie big. And of course, there's the whole "female-fronted new-wave band" thing that connects the two. But Debbie Harry never sang the chorus to "Hangin' on the Telephone" while slung across Chris Stein's shoulders as he played one of those ghastly keyboard/guitar combinations. So Roxt has at least that going for her. Of course, it was Moxie Static rather that Chris Stien, and she was singing an Epoxies song, but hey...you know what I'm talking about. And you probably should have been there. If not, let me spell it out for you. YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE.
- Dylan Abbot re: Red Devil Records show in Petaluma.
The Epoxies' name is no misnomer. Just like glue, the Portland band's new wave-meets-punk tunes get stuck in one's head with their shredding guitars, bopping keyboards and the voice of female leader Roxy Epoxy, which shifts from Exene Cervenka growl to straight-forward Missing Persons-style singing to the mid-'80s hiccup emphasis (think of Toni Basil in "Mickey"). But The Epoxies--which also include Dr. Grip on percussion, Fritz M. Static on keyboards and backing vocals, Shock Diode on bass and Viz Spectrum on guitars--don't write songs as rehashed as it may sound. As evidenced on the self-titled full-length debut issued this year on Seattle's Dirt Nap Records, the cold, futuristic, clinicalness of new wave's synthesizers and apathetic vocals takes on the raw energy and emotion of punk in a perfect street fight, with one matching the other blow for blow. From the girl power-fueled love anthem "Cross My Heart" (in which Roxy sings, "I'm not the kind of girl who gives up easily, who runs away") to a goodbye as the whistle of the H-bomb grows nearer in "We're So Small" ("Don't worry, baby, we won't feel a thing/They say it's over in a flash"), The Epoxies take on subjects much more timeless and, in some cases, contrived than the keytar, the strap-on keyboard favored by Static.
But the kitschy-ness of the '80s fascination, which never wears thin on the record, is taken to full tilt live when the band performs in visor specs, striped shirts and tights, with skinny ties and electrical tape used as all-purpose accessories. The Epoxies have also been known to play in front of a lit-up sign of the band's name, with strobes, smoke machines and other special effects adding to the spectacle. It may be hard to take a band seriously that once tried to shower itself and its audience in feathers during a finale, but The Epoxies are one '80s throwback that doesn't belong on the shelf with your Rubik's Cube.
- Shannon Sutlief, Dallas Observer
A couple of years ago, bored with Portland, synth player FM Static and guitarist Viz Spectrum decided to get excited -- immodestly excited. They thought about music; they thought about science fiction; they thought about robots and plastic; they thought about robots playing science-fiction music about plastic. More than just thinking about the sound, the pair made it, while sequestered in their garage with drummer Dr. Grip and bassist Kid Polymer (now Shock Diode). Luckily, the band's silver refrigerator boxes proved too unwieldy to wear and the players settled for Day-Glo duct tape and an insuppressible singer named Roxy Epoxy. The bandmates charted an unusual musical course: They decided to take great care writing great songs without taking themselves too seriously. They wore ridiculous X-ray specs and tinfoil pompadours, and twitched across the stage in miscalculated clouds of smoke, fire, and feathers. But as silly and spectacular as the Epoxies' stage shows became, the band never once performed a song that didn't pass inspection.
On the Epoxies' self-titled debut, Roxy Epoxie leaps from the growling Runaways-punch of "Cross My Heart" to the cool, automaton yearning of "Please Please Please," employing vocal chirrups along the way that would make Dale Bozzio and Lena Lovich sigh. The precise and often phonically perverse backing vocals provided by FM Static and Shock Diode further enhance the modern tales of supersonic love, mechanized rebuffs, pre-programmed obsession, and future-teen alienation, while the unremitting thrust of Dr. Grip's, Spectrum's, and Diode's instruments keeps the music grounded in an era when new wave wasn't estranged from punk. Abundant synthesizer -- the last bastion of every bad new wave act to discover lip gloss -- augments this glorious noise, serving as an indispensable ingredient, not a crutch. In the hands of Static, the instrument is flawlessly, faithfully choreographed, making the Epoxies everything I ever hoped would come out of the newer wave. Hell, the Epoxies are everything I hoped would come out of the old new wave.
- Silke Tudor, SF Weekly
Surprisingly, the latest band to be born out of the electroclash phenomenon isn't from Brooklyn, Berlin or even Detroit. Portland, Oregon's, Epoxies formed in 2000, just one year after influential new new wave acts such as Peaches, Chicks on Speed and Miss Kittin released their debut albums and went on their first U.S. tours. Though the band draws on many of the same influences as those '80s synth-pop-inspired acts, it maintains a more punk background.
Sounding like a mix between Chrissie Hynde and Exene Cervenka, the band's vocalist, Roxy Epoxy, delivers beguiling lyrics with an enthusiasm and grittiness absent in most electroclash yarblers. The Epoxies' recent self-titled album (DirtNap) has the zeal of original new wavers like Blondie and the Go-Go's, but with a decidedly synthesized cadence buoyed by Roxy's eerie, throaty vocals. This dirty pop mix is best accentuated on songs like "Molded Plastic" and "Stop Looking at Me."
Much like New York's Yeah Yeah Yeahs, the Epoxies do-it-yourself attitude is presented visually as well as aurally. Like the notorious Karen O, Roxy Epoxy is often seen modeling her own strange blend of vintage clothing customized with black or silver utility tape. The band once considered using refrigerator boxes to dress up like robots, but the idea fell through when they realized they were having a tough enough time keeping their taped-up pants from falling apart on stage. Such wayward creativity has garnered the band a reputation for shows as amusing to watch as they are to hear.
Manda and the Marbles, Go Evol Shiki! and the Jeffs will share in the fun.
-Jessica Hoffman, Columbus Alive
DJ Ride, barely visible in the high dj booth in the corner spun Misfits tunes as the Epoxies set up on the darkened stage. Roxy Epoxy had a wide piece of masking tape over her mouth as she moved equipment on stage. Terrycloth elbow pads were secured with electrical tape wound round. Safety pins held her outfit together. Her eye makeup glowed green in the black light, haloed by wild pony tails. The keyboard player had wrapped himself in yellow police caution tape. He launched into a brief keyboard warmup that sounded like something off of Rush's Moving Pictures, and stood ready.
Well, I'm sure you're wondering, dear reader, if the Epoxies backed up their formidable appearance with an equally direct performance. I can perhaps best put it this way: I've always liked X, and wished I could have seen them in their LA punk scene heyday. Now that I've seen the Epoxies, I no longer have that regret. From the on stage moves (damn, that Roxy can move!) to the guitar strap strobe, they were everything you need in a punk band.
A real rock journalist would start lying at this point, talking about semiotics and obscure bands and the like. I, however, possess no such credentials.
At this point, my notes become garbled and illegible, due as much to the beer consumed as to the crowded conditions and the rockin' show. As a final word on the Epoxies set, my notes read "19 million spits (?) seattle dingeberry if you hadn't heard them." I don't remember if it's a quote or a just random thought, but it's sound advice worth considering.
-Pat La Penna, Glorious Noise
From the cool green depths of Portland comes a tight. brazen and artifice-loving combo that would do Blondie proud -- Epoxies vocalist Roxy Epoxy emotes with all the irony drenched, robotic cool of Debbie Harry or Dale Bozzio, amid spiky synths, slashed guitars and bouncy beats. Pogo-thons, duct-taped boobs and wraparound shades are de riguer when Roxy, keyboardist F.M. Static, drummer Dr. Grip, bassist Shock Diode, and guitarist Viz Spectrum bring their own little New Wave City to town.
- S.F. Gate
More than a decade after the dreaded grunge implosion, the Pacific Northwest continues to produce some of the most warped musical exports in the nation. Oregon's the Epoxies do one of the wiggiest impressions of an '80s-synthpunk outfit we've heard since the Servotron and Supernova discs of the mid '90s. Their stage garb makes 'em look like the bastard children of the Rezillos and Devo, but their music is more into the bubblegum hooks of one-hit-wonder new wave - there's at least as much Toni Basil and Kim Wilde as Poly Styrene in Roxy Epoxy's sugar-coated yelp. See them on Tuesday at Flywheel (413-527-9800) in Easthampton; next Friday, November 29, at the Met Café (401-861-2142) in Providence; and next Saturday, November 30 at Start! at the Paradise (617-562-8800) here in Boston.
-Road Tripping, Boston Phoenix
you haven't yet checked out the Epoxies, do! They play new wave/punk madness, with '80s guitars, synths, great new wave clothes, and tons of energy. They opened the show with "The Professionals" from the movie Ladies and Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains, a wonderful underground classic. They continued to blast through their own energtic songs and topped things off with an Adam and the Ants cover. They Epoxies have a 7" that came out on Dirtnap Records and Dirtnap has also inked a deal to put out their first album. I dunno, maybe it's because this band mixes my new wave past with my punk present so perfectly or maybe it's just because they are costumed and fun, but I can't say enough about how great this band was live.
-Andrea Arson, Tablet
With retro coolness expanding past both ends of the ’70s, it’s now neat to incorporate the keyboards and quirk of the ’80s (see The Faint, The Start, Weezer). Portland’s Epoxies play Missing Persons (Roxy Epoxy’s Dale Bozzio influences; FM Static’s vintage strap-on keyboard) against the Ramones (classic punk verve) and Devo (costumes, whimsy and theatrics) on their self-titled Dirtnap Records disc. Naturally, the appeal is manifold and catchin’ fire. “We are No. 1 on KALX (Berkeley),” says Static. “We are getting play on Rodney on the ROQ [KROQ, Los Angeles] and for some reason, we are doing really well in Germany!” Uh … Ich bin ein Epoxy?
- Randy Harward, Salt Lake City Weekly
Pants that look to be mostly made of duct tape. Dizzying striped shirts, spangly zip-up suits, weird shades. Spiked hair. What more could you ask of any band, at least in terms of visual presentation? The Epoxies ... offer all this...and more. Their combination of hyper-synthed bleeps, high-treble guitar and straight-on plasticine beats will move all but the most stone-faced enemies of nostalgia into a gleeful pogo.
- Musicfest NW Preview, Willamette Week
Valley Girl, the hilarious, early '80s wrong-side-of-the-tracks movie starring Nicolas Cage as a sensitive punker, owed its greatness largely to its soundtrack. The Plimsouls, Josie Cotton, Sparks, and Modern English set the tone, not just for a love story, but for an era full of Top-Siders and spiked hair. If you've been missing those days of simple new wave, it is imperative to see the Epoxies. Their chugga-chugga punk riffs bring back the days of early new wave, with a futuristic smattering of melodic keyboards. But their live performance is so spectacular, it nearly eclipses their music: the band--duct-taped and bespectacled with square sunglasses--bursts with outer-space energy. Their vocalist, Roxy Epoxy, never stops dancing, and belts out every anthemic line with a cache of electricity.
- Julianne Shepherd, Seattle Stranger
THE EPOXIES/THE EXCESSORIES QUE SERA, LONG BEACH SATURDAY, JULY 6
... The Epoxies were the ones who really sucked us in. As one of our observers astutely pointed out, they’re total drama dorks gone awry—they sound like a Devo-ed up Dickies or Rezillos but you know they’re super big into They Might Be Giants and MST3K in real life. But singer Roxy Epoxy really is the new wave girl of your dreams. If they lived in LA, they’d be the Von Steins, who have been toiling in the neo-new-wave salt mines for too many unsung years. But instead, the Epoxies come down from Portland, Roxy does the robot dance, and the rest of the band wears laser hats. And you’re like, "Oh, fuck, I can’t help it." Roxy was in fine form tonight, fearlessly and cheerfully focusing every last shred of attention in the room right between her black-rimmed eyes and making everything, like, totally FUN! We even pointed out some blood on the dance floor to her after the show. "Don’t worry!" she said with a smile after ducking offstage to inspect it. "That’s FUN blood!" And you know what? It probably was.
- Chris Ziegler, OC Weekly