Nomad Touring

Doug Kabourek is back. After a pair of concept heavy full-lengths, his one-man Fizzle
Like a Flood has crafted yet another pop masterpiece. Following in the vein of his
more expansive and epic material, the new self-titled EP is a bright flash of fidelity
and a lesson in boundless home recording that leaves you craving more.

In a way, the record is also a look back at Kabourek's formative years; the finale,
"Shutters Closed," is a cover of Iowa City friends Tripmaster Monkey (who penned
Kabourek's namesake, a song called "Fizzle Like a Flood"…), and the instrumentals,
"Nothing Much" and "Something More," are grandiose reinterpretations of tunes first
played in Doug's early days as The Laces. Even the artwork embraces the idea, a time
capsule from another year, a picture taken, and the permanence of the past.

At the same time, Fizzle Like a Flood is unyieldingly progressive. Rather than using
grand, yet tired, techniques to catch an ear, several moments of musical nakedness (a
sudden, layered, a cappella chorus at the climax of "Decide to Die") do the trick, and
at the same time, keep you on the edge of your seat waiting for the flood that could
be just around the corner. Kabourek has also found a new flair for writing on the piano,
as evidenced in the heart wrenching "Rides to Get High," and on the surprisingly un-
offensive "Love the Fuck," where he borrows the melody of "Shutters Closed" for a
touching homage and an inappropriate love song.

Imagine a cartoon battle between The Flaming Lips and the Mountain Goats with
Ben Folds as a celebrity referee. It doesn't matter who wins as long as you get the
picture, because Fizzle Like a Flood continues to shoot ahead towards blissful
uncertainty, leaving in its wake a constantly increasing catalog of smart, sincere pop
confections.

Rent Money Big is not a fucking soda pop. That's why I would never describe it like,
"Rock music... with a twist!" In fact, I'm not even sure if they do drink soda or
pop. I think they just drink. But they are kind of like meat-'Rock and roll, it's for
lunch!' Or maybe a diet-'Rock and roll, all the taste, half the carbs.' OR ... get this: a
book. 'Rock and roll... written with a flaming pen!' Or how about a machine gun?
'Rock and roll... meant to splatter as many people as possible, as quickly as
possible, illegally.' Or how about an authoritarian dictatorship*? "Rock and roll...
line the poets up, shave them, electrocute extremities, shoot them, dismember
them, soak them in acid. Do the same to: artists, authors, questioning mothers,
journalists, reactionaries, and the shiftless. Repeat." I think the latter is a little harsh.
I don't know. What do you think?

Okay. So you want to get into a pissing match, huh? Well, don't try it with Rent
Money Big, because their singer pisses fire, some say. Some say he's our town's
high school Iggy, but that's another story. And the guitarrer; some say he's the
revival of the rock and roll search for the missing guitar hook. The bass player plays
the very growl of Cerberus, and the drummer has taken over for Father Time. This
one time I saw Rent Money Big play a set at a house show. You may not trust my
taste, simply because of my name, but I know what I like, and I call it like I see it, so
trust me. I liked Rent Money Big. They were very good to watch and listen to
because they seem to encapsulate the frustration that a lot of original bands must
feel nowadays, and blah and blah and so forth, wanting to channel their internal
storms with rock music, blah, but still wary of the fickle nature of that whole scene,
blah. That's why, instead of sucky sucky shit poo imitation, Rent Money Big is
idiosyncratically confusing and charismatic.

If I had to describe Rent Money Big with one word, I would say that they are loud,
ferocious, poorly groomed, and completely ign'ant of the fashionarazzi. Sometimes
their lead singer dresses in O.R. scrubs, but that's not really a selling point for the
band. They'd rather you bought their CDs and T-shirts instead. You see, Rent Money
Big'll never say out loud, "We're the most hard to describe sound. We rely on our
complex song structures and uniqueness to reach people." That shit's for prog-rock,
and 89% percent of the population hates that kind of music. But they could still
almost say that about themselves, which is not to say they're prog-rock; they're not.
They're dizzy rock, okay?

Rent Money Big is not lukewarm. They have come to stomp your soul into the
ground for a laugh. And they will, too, if you pay them enough. They are nuclear
energy. They have become Death, the destroyers of worlds. Love them as though
they were your only hope for the end of all civilization. All the PDAs, golf courses,
SUVs, pure-bred canines, mutant produce, cosmopolitan professors, street beggars,
and everything else that is carbon-based or runs on an electrical current: vapor.
Rent Money Big will even destroy itself, given enough research and funding.