Steel Miners

Ballin’ (Get Hip)
by Jon Sarre

This was one of the best bands to come down the pike in years. I say was, cuz they broke up before this record came out. A moment of silence, then, for the Steel Miners. Fortunately, they got around to makin’ their second record before partin’ ways. Ballin’, on the whole, is less frantic than their debut LP, Irony, and miles away from their molar-diggin’, unhinged Don Fleming-produced after-birth announcement EP, Dig. The sound of Ballin’ is what you might call “more mature,” though not all grown up like it’s time to get real jobs (well, maybe that’s what happened), but rather, “mature,” like takin’ breaths between songs and possibly cuttin’ down on the liquor intake.

“Two-three-four!” someone yells in a yeah-it’s-hackneyed-but-fuck-off sorta way as bassplayer Eric Vermillion, guitarist John Scafidi and drummer Patrick Pantano speed off into the “Blitzkrieg Bop” crossed with X’s version of the Doors’ “Soul Kitchen” and hey-ho-let’s-go of “Shogun Spa.” There’s more than a bit of a Ramones vibe on this record (in contrast to the scuzz-rock piss’n’beer stench of the previous releases). “I don’t care about history, cuz that’s not where yer gonna find me,” they slip in on “Nobody” (along with the line “somebody shoot me,” which is also the title of a Nashville Pussy tune and ex-Miner Max Terasauro used to drum for them, too – connection?). Then there’s “You’re All Mine,” which sounds like the Ramones (on ‘ludes even) coverin’ Mudhoney (as opposed to “I Lose, You Win,” which sounds like Mudhoney on ‘ludes coverin’ Mudhoney).

“Apathy” sets the doomsday clock forward (to, uh, 1981), with its “Kids Of the Black Hole” punk classicism (including references to “Hitler and Hess”). “One .45” is likewise cool, with the Steel Miners posturing like snot-nosed punks tryin’ to sound badass. “It’s Too Late” is power-trashcan stomp, while “Stuck With You” is retro-garage-muck with organ-drenching lovingly supplied by Deann Iovan. The closer, “Messin’ With the Kid,” sounds like a Sunset Strip hair-power ballad, so much so that I kept expectin’ Axl Rose to start whinin’ ’bout not needin’ my civil war. He never does, which is just as well, cuz I don’t miss ol’ Axl one bit. Steel Miners, though, I will miss. R.I.P.
(Columbus & Preble Aves. Pittsburg, PA 15233)