Samiam – Stowaway (review)

“Don’t call it a comeback. Call it an evolution, a rebirth, a continuation after twelve years of absence.”

So said the review of this album on Punktastic. I’d rather call it a resurgence. Strange band, Samiam. They formed in 1988 with their first couple of albums being released on indie label New Red Archives. Then, after a single album on Atlantic (1994’s Clumsy), they signed to Hopeless, home of the disenfranchised. Stowaway, their first on Pure Noise Records, is the California quintet’s first album since 2011’s Trip. That’s 12 long years. Where have you been, guys? I don’t think they ever officially broke up, they’ve toured intermittently, sometimes with some big artists (Green Day and Blink 182 included), but they’ve hardly been prolific. I didn’t think they even had a website, but evidently they do.

It requires something akin to a perfect storm for a band to become successful, especially given the fractured state of the music industry, and momentum is a key factor. Sadly, Samiam just never seemed to have any. They had everything else; songs, an identity, a following, talent, but they can’t seem to keep it together long enough to build up a head of steam. They are a bit like that old friend you have that spontaneously shows up every couple of years. You have a great night, then they go back underground and you don’t see them again for ages.

Anyway, here we are. If I had to describe the Samiam sound I’d go for a mash up between Smashing Pumpkins, Alkaline Trio, Deftones and maybe a touch of the Wonder Years. On Stowaway they race out of the blocks with Lake Speed, which segways neatly into lead single Chrystalized. All layered vocals, power chords, and soaring choruses, this is just about as perfect a track as you’ll ever hear. Listen to it. Just listen to it!

The pace doesn’t let up for Lights Out, Little Hustler, Shoulda Stayed and Shut Down. Samiam are at their best when they are being melodic, treading the thin line between thrashing about and staring at their shoes. Their music often has a kid of wistful, nostalgic feel, similar to latter-era Bouncing Souls, and it takes a couple of tracks before you remember how good this band were. Or are. A highlight for me is Monterey Canyon which is apparently about being an octopus, but don’t let that put you off. The second half of the album dips slightly but comes roaring back with Something, one of those that sticks in your head for days after a single listen. Guitarist Sean Kennerly said of the track: “The light perkiness of the music is belied by the heavy subject matter – searching for meaning and reason inside of everyday actions.”

Stowaway is closed out with the mid-tempo title track, which also happens to be the longest song on the record by some margin (though its still only 4:12). This just feels like an important album, one that I will probably forget about for a year, then rediscover one night and curse myself out for not paying it more attention to it. I only ever listen to MP3 and flac files these days but bizarrely, this album was practically crying out to be played on vinyl. Go on, treat yourself. I only hope we don’t have to wait another 12 years for a follow up.

Stowaway is out now on Pure Noise Records.

RetView #76 – Night of the Creeps (1986)

Title: Night of the Creeps

Year of Release: 1986

Director: Fred Dekker

Length: 88 mins

Starring: Jason Lively, Steve Marshall, Jill Whitlow, Tom Atkins, Wally Taylor, Richard Miller

As regular readers of this series will know, I can’t resist some eighties schlock. And they don’t come much more eighties and schlocky than this. On the surface it’s a zombie flick, the splatter/comedy tone eerily reminiscent of Re-Animator (1985), right down to the zombiefied cat. But at it’s core, Night of the Creeps is a homage to the fifties B-Movies like The Blob (1958) and The Giant Claw (1957) we all love so much. It even opens with a cut scene which manages to encapsulate an alien invasion and an escaped lunatic before fast-forwarding 27 years to a university Pledge Week setting where Chris Romero (Lively) and his best friend JC (Marshall) are pining over lost loves (“I don’t like being depressed. It’s depressing”). In the crowd they pick out Cynthia Cronenberg (Whitlow) and join a fraternity in a misguided attempt to gain her affection. Unfortunately, Cynthia’s boyfriend is the head honcho and tasks the hapless duo with stealing a cadaver from the university medical center and depositing it on the steps of a rival frat house. In the process, they inadvertently thaw out a frozen corpse (“a corpsicle!”) who turns out to be the boy from the opening scene, who then goes to pick up his date at her sorority house 27 years late. And dead. Not only that, but he’s infected with an alien parasite which looks like a slug and likes to jump into people’s orifices. Before you know it, it’s carnage.

Released by TriStar Pictures the film is widely regarded as a box office flop, earning a meagre $591,366 domestically. But it was only released in 70 theatres so that isn’t too surprising, and apparently it was quite big in the Philippines where it was released on March 5, 1987, with free “protector” stickers handed out to moviegoers. I love a good bit of PR.

Director Fred Dekker, who was also involved with House (1986), Monster Squad (1987) and several episodes of the legendary series Tales From the Crypt, originally wanted to shoot the film in black and white. He included every B-movie cliche he could think of and insisted on directing the script himself. Most of the main characters (Romero, Carpenter, Raimi, Hooper, Cronenberg) are named after famous horror movie makers and ‘Corman University’ itself is a reference to Roger Corman. The script was allegedly written in a week and the truth is, it shows. Some of the jokes are weak and predictable, and the whole thing treads the line between being a homage and simply being derivative. Part of the charm is the slapped-together punk-tastic approach, but you can’t help but wonder how much better it could have been had it been a bit more polished. In their review, the New York times acknowledged as much but went on to say it also demonstrates, “A fair ability to create suspense, build tension and achieve respectable performances.” Writing for Fangoria, Michael Gingold called it, “One of the year’s most surprisingly entertaining fright features, one that homaged practically every subgenre imaginable yet kept a sure hand on its tone and never descended into spoofery.” Dread Central were even more complimentary, generously calling it, “A classic in every sense of the word.”

Strangely, in Cincinnati and a few other cities, the movie was re-named Homecoming Night and two different endings were made. The most common version shows Chris and Cynthia standing in front of the burning sorority house, with the camera moving to the street as police cars race towards the burning building past a ‘zombified’ Cameron, who stops and falls to the ground. His head then bursts open and the alien parasite slugs that incubated there scamper out and slither towards a nearby cemetery. The other, far less elaborate ending, has a dog in it. A later completely unrelated film called Zombie Town was marketed to some audiences as an ‘unofficial sequel.’ The original has been reissued in a number of formats, most recently on Blu-ray in 2019.

Trivia Corner

According to Dekker the prominent “Stryper Rules” graffiti visible in the bathroom scene appeared due to makeup artist Kyle Sweet’s relationship with future husband Michael Sweet, frontman of Christian metal band Stryper, who’d she’d met whilst working on their video. Kyle Sweet also worked on Teen Wolf (1985) and The Terminator (1984) and passed away from cancer in 2009. Stryper live on, releasing their most recent album The Final Battle in 2022.

The RetView series is taking a short break and will be back soon, giving you the perfect opportunity to catch up on some previous installments.

tiny frights!

I have not one, but two (count ’em!) ickle fings included in the latest edition of the ezine/podcast project tiny frights.

The Vase is a drabble, a story of exactly 100-words. Writing these things is an art form in itself. Brevity is key, and not a word can be wasted. I’m paraphrasing but Stephen King once said writing or reading a short story is a bit like having a one-night stand, while writing or reading a novel is more like having a relationship. If that’s true, a drabble must be like having a quick snog with a random in a night club toilet.

The other piece, Broken World, is a dribble. If a drabble is a quick snog with a random in a night club toilet, then a dribble (a complete story of exactly 50 words) is probably precisely that. A dribble. But who knows? It might taste nice.

Both stories are free to read HERE.