"For 29 minutes and 13 glorious songs, they can pump this into my veins." - Maximum Volume Music
"A “vintage” collection of thirteen originals, clocking in at under 30 minutes (of course), straight out of the rock’n‘roll (hall of fame) garage. Not so much a return to the (CHUCK BERRY) source, more a stripped-down but perfectly executed collection of bubblegum surf songs that would make the RAMONES rock in their graves. Really rather good. Not least the sharp guitar work and tight vocal harmonies." - Maximum Rock n' Roll
"Like a couple of sixties teenagers who just discovered their cool uncle’s Chuck Berry records, Electraluxx doesn’t so much revive the original rock & roll sound as play it as if that’s all they know. Besides the snappy guitar work and clockwork drumming, the stylish songcraft of “Knock the Dust Off,” “My Mom” and “Too Cool For School” makes it clear these guys ain’t amateurs." - Michael "Denim" Toland, The Big Takeover
"Yes Lou! Been waiting for this one since hearing “St. Marks ‘96” on a comp a couple months back." - Jason Brown, The Kitchen Sink WUNH
"Electraluxx are an authentic rock’n’roll band formed by two brothers from New Jersey. And by ‘authentic’, I mean this is going to appeal to fans of Elvis & Scotty, Buddy Holly and Gene Vincent just as much as fans of The Cramps or Reverend Horton Heat. But this isn’t mere revivalism, this band are playing it for real and it comes to them naturally." - Fear And Loathing Zine
WE ALL KNOW THE LEGENDS . . . Ponce de Leon, with lifts in his boots, surveyed the lush Floridian jungles & sought out the fabled “Fountain of Youth.” Tiny man, big dreams. Success would surely unleash an endless stream of untold riches, and huzzahs and hosannas from a grateful and eternally young people. Ol’ Poncy failed and yet we still speak his name and dream the dream. That he failed is what we used to call an established fact, but that doesn’t make his quest any less appealing or marketable. Just ask the Florida commission for tourism. When the choice is between fact and fiction, the clever mint the legend and market a fantasy.
What’s less known, and I have this on reliable authority, is that his expedition was stymied by a lack of modern conveniences. Florida may have seemed a lush paradise when espied through a looking glass, but it was also rugged terrain: dank swamps and teeming jungles, hard ground, deadly to traverse. One of the conquistador’s underlings, El Electray de Luxe—a figure now obscured by history’s shadows—was an amateur inventor. Faced with acres of sand and swamp bilge, gator carcasses and downed cypress trees, serpent skins as long and wide as a carpet, it’s reported that he exclaimed: “If only I had a device that could clear this mess and keep it clean.” This man, a budding Edison for the Age of Exploration, set to work, eventually fashioning the prototype of that appliance we all now know and love, “the vacuum cleaner.” It had a lot of levers, pulleys, hoses and tech geegaws. Reportedly, it required ten stout men to operate. But it worked. And this invention now bears his name1. Today, our lives are all enhanced by quality vacuums. Aficionados revere the Electrolux, the pinnacle of utility, raw suction and space age design: streamlined, rocket torqued, the apex of form and function. Now we can remold chaos into pure tidiness. We can tame a soiled wilderness.
Centuries and miles hence, in a place called New Jersey that’s both swampland and, minting the legend, Garden State. The ground is cluttered with different detritus and hazards: rusting Coupe de Villes and Barracudas, beer cans, underwire brassieres and
J. Hoffa’s moldering bones. Daily life is still cluttered, though vacuums are plentiful. Enter two Garfield brothers, these raised-right young men who, as legends maintain, found some dusty instruments behind a sleek vacuum in a remote corner of their mom’s garage. It sparked a bright idea and another quest. They drew inspiration from history. With the instruments, they banged and wailed and fashioned a crude and joyful noise, as sudden and pure as a thunderclap. And from the vacuum, they found a name and identity, sleek, spare and rocket powered. They knew the forbidden joy of barging Robitussin and they sang its praises. They extolled the idle joys of having no dough but making their own fun. As they say, “dolce far niente.” Look it up. In time, kids heard the news, and frolicked, while adults ran, fingers in their ears, tearing their hair and rending their clothes to ribbons. And like that.
Just as quickly as Electraluxx rose, they stopped mid-stride and left us puzzling: wherefore art thou, Electraluxx?
Which leads us to right now. Today, all the dots have reconnected and the brothers are back apace. During their long tenure in the wilderness, they have located a life-giving wellspring in Jersey tapwater. They also found it in the hum of a thrift store amps and emanating from busted car-door speakers. Extolling the frabjous delights of slot cars and roller skates, in heel-kicking dances. The Catalina’s got a tankfulla gas and they have a pocketfulla cash. Add a runnin’ podner in tight black jeans. C’mon, put the top down, feel the wind and sun, point the nose towards “no particular place to go” and let ‘er rip. As always, turn the volume UP.
Ol’ Poncy’s fantasy is now, at long last, fulfilled: the fount geysers up from the grooves and at last eternal youth is at hand for each and all. All ya gotta do is listen and wiggle, pant and moan with delight. Stomp, clap and wail. Drink that whisky and get a lil frisky. Let these brand-spanking-fresh tunes work their charms. The effect will be salutary, reviving. Your sails shall fill with bountiful gusts, your knees will not creak, the beer will remain cooler-cold and fill you with strength, purpose and goodwill. Your jowls will melt and your corns disappear and you can hang the mortgage payment and the boss can go chase himself.
Drink deep, my thirsties! Infinitude is at hand, brought to you by Electraluxx, where lofty dreams and practical innovations converge. It don’t cost much and it's guaranteed good times. Kick the dust off and git to steppin’, so flip the switch and blast off! And when it’s all over, you can vacuum up the wreckage . . .
Stay young and keep your carpets clean, Tom O.
1 Yes, we all know the controversy. Some maintain today's electronic vacuum cleaner was created, in the 1920s, by Mme. Electra Luks in Madison, WI. See: Chas. Horse, ed, The New & Abridged Concordance of Modern Vacuumry (2nd ed., 1948). The debate rages.
released March 19, 2021
The Great Scott Dense and Little Ricky
All songs written and performed by Electraluxx
Recorded at Cambridge Place Studio
Engineered by Scott Dennis
All songs mastered by Scott Anthony at Storybook Sound
Except: St. Marks '69 and Tight Black Pants Girl Mastered by Paul Gold at Salt Mastering
Graphics By Jose Moreno
Photography by Little Ricky and The Great Scott Dense
Spiritual Advisor: Rock and Roll Matt Dow
Advisor of Spirits: Chief Tom
Beer! Fun! Shapely ladies! Load up the woodie and head to the beach with this super tasty can of Beach Boys-meets-Ramones suds. Nostalgic? Sure. Fun as a beach bunny after a six-pack? YOU BETCHA!!!! Good Stuff! thedoggboy