Wednesday evening at The End was special, not just because Thelma & The Sleaze debuted their fine discounted Goodwill merch table, (i.e. camo-trucker hats, bejeweled overall shorts, etc.), but because The Moaners decided to pay us a little visit, all the way from Chapel Hill, NC. First, though, fuckshow warmed everybody up with a little folksy kind of punk rock. Lead singer Wes Trew’s "less annoying Billie Joe Armstrong" warble, and fuckshow’s surprisingly insightful lyrics were pretty refreshing to hear from a band with such a name. (Say it with me now – fuckshow).

It was more refreshing to hear The Moaners play next, who are currently on tour, promoting some of their new tunes. Listening to them play on Wednesday made you feel like you were a character from a horror movie, drunkenly wandering around a farm late at night in the middle of nowhere, and you suddenly realize that a deranged man with a chainsaw is chasing you in his Ford Bronco – but in a good way. Most of their set was made up of 3-chord songs that would drone their way into sounds similar to The Ditty Bops’ interpretation of Marcy’s Playground. Many of the songs made their way into jams that you didn’t realize were jams until the song was already over, which takes some pretty crafty instrumental skill. Their final song was an eerie waltz which featured lead singer/guitarist Melissa Swingle on a beautiful saw solo, and drummer/singer Laura King accompanying her on guitar. Check out the video here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v_-dvs5js1Y

Thelma & The Sleaze went on last and brought the trashy level back to where it belonged. While singer/guitarist Lauren Gilbert still insisted on wearing her confederate flag bikini, the previous Trampskirt members gave a "damn good effort" to their grunge rock sound, which has become less punk and more blues – more sass and trash – since the Trampskirt days. Bassist Emily Zimmer held an interesting tune together – think Henry Mancini bass lines with added scrappiness – and with Gilbert’s Janis Joplin growl, their set was better than ever.

Catch fuckshow, T&TS and The Moaners if you can. Until then, be sure to say hey to Lauren Gilbert at Taco Party if you care to have a delicious burrito and a good laugh. – Erin Manning

It is difficult today to be the first of anything, which is fine for Cannomen, who appear to be perfectly alright regurgitating the sound pioneered by past punk gods. The band’s recent EP release officially titled, Black Hole – though the cover reads, Science Studies the Black Hole – is a four-track 45 of punk nostalgia from format to lyrical content. So in this case, disregard for the avant-garde is forgiven, if not preferable, because of an old familiar energy ripping through it that never seems to quit.

As professed in the opening/title track "Black Hole," Cannomen are the kings of decay, and they go for the throat with four fast stories of head cases, sleeping all day, throwing up in driveways, as well as the occasional murder-by-shovel. Though the songs are blazing with an almost palpable angst, not a single one is bitter. They all manage to maintain a grim sense of humor throughout, something like, "I killed her with a shovel/burying her corpse was no trouble" might suggest.

Even when the lyrics fade into the abstract and the meaning is lost on the listener, they are always brought back by lines with an inexplicable charm, like, "I can’t be your spiritual deceiver/cause I believe in science baby" in "Palm Reader". And it’s hard not to fall in love with a song with some well-placed whistling parts, as found in "Black Hole," which is probably the highlight of the album with an inviting prompt to lose control.

The album goes fast. True to typical punk rock form, each track is short and sweet, all clocking in under two and a half minutes. Every jarring instrumental clash is there, and with time the band will probably begin to probe deeper into its lyricism. It feels like "Black Hole" is just a teaser for more gritty party music to come.

For those who are missing the days when punk was first on the rise, or just like it loud and fast, get your fix. – Jessica Pace