The Strange Case(s) of Decibel v. No Echo

So, No Echo is hands down one of the most eclectic, interesting music culture websites out there these days and over the course of past year its erudite, seasoned proprietors — former Noisecreep editor Carlos Ramirez and Andrew Aversion — have been kind enough to invite a few Decibel writers to contribute.
Here is what transpired…

Managing Editor Andrew Bonazelli wrote a sublime ode to Faith No More’s best, most consistent non-Chuck Mosley record, The Real Thing

I vividly remember sitting in the backseat of the family Astro van with my older sister after church, crossing my eyes and going, “THE PAIN THE TORMENT THE TORTURE PROFANITY NAUSEA SUFFERING PERVERSION CALAMITY… YOU… CAN’T… GET AWAY.” My mom was like, “Andrew, stop it,” so I did. Temporarily.

The great Jeanne Fury predictably slayed her essay on the Lunachick’s Jerk of All Trades

This band understood anger and resentment, but they also reveled in absurdity—and they rocked so friggin’ hard. I paid the cashier, took home this crown jewel, and played that damn album ’til every bark, belch, and bellow was absorbed into my being. Somehow, the Lunachicks made me feel less defective as a young woman. To this day—almost 20 years later—Jerk of All Trades makes me laugh so hard I sound like a hammered donkey, AND it makes me want to fuck shit up, AND it makes me feel a thousand feet tall. From now ’til whenever, no matter what band crosses my path, the Lunachicks will forever be worst-er.

J. Bennett’s out-of-left-field, fascinating deep-dive into Life, Sex, & Death’s The Silent Majority is one of the best bits of music journalism you’ll read this year…

Led by Alex Kane, former guitarist for Enuff Z’nuff (when they were still called Enough Z’nuff, which was before they even had a record out), Life, Sex & Death were heartland holdovers from the hair metal craze that swept across America in the mid ’80s, blasting everyone in the face with Aqua Net before handing those same people a flannel shirt and a pair of long underwear to rock under their cargo shorts in ’91. Which is to say: LSD could shred with the Sunset Strip’s flashiest metal queens, but they didn’t look the part. The band is only half the show here, though. The well-adjusted half.

And Andrew very patiently waited as I blew several deadlines putting together One More Boy in the Box: Or, An Always Surrendering Bedwetter Rides the Assface Express to a Rendezvous with Canadian Pop Rock Heartthrob Corey Hart

I’m not saying he is for sure a vampire, but… to quote Lenin, Who, whom?

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