LP - $9.00 | CD - out of print
This is what happens when three nice, unsuspecting Japanese guys relocate to NYC... a modern tragedy set to crazed avant punk noise.
The songs on Super Milk are super tight. The singer has a kind of Johnny Rotten inflection to his voice, but he doesn't mimic Rotten's lyrical style. Instead, he lets his vocal melodies weave into the hard textures of the music, so that the results are songs that hit you in the face like a cinderblock. The rest of the band provides the weight and the cement, of course. The guitars are tense and crisp pieces of jagged granite crushed relentlessly under the bass and drums. Pour this into a glass and you will shatter it. Mmm… tasty! (James McDonough, US Rocker - June 1998)
Those crazy Japanese rock bands. The words "super" and "cool" were invented just so super-cool bands like Ultra Bidé could use them excessively in every super-cool song they ever record. What you have with Ultra Bidé are a New York-tinged take on punk-rush rock with all sorts of weirdness thrown in to disorient the listener. Acid brass on "Molt," industrial spoken word on the title track, spacey percussion on "Capitalism." Musically, Ultra Bidé are a harmless, spiky, jump-around kinda trip. Lyrically, they veer away from the strangely hypnotic, beautiful nonsensical material many Japanese exports pursue and instead get socio-political on our asses. There's still all that super-cool bastardized American hipster speak, but it doesn't have the same impact when the subject-matter is Bush, Clinton, McVeigh and Koresh. Ultra Bidé sound best when they're singing about wanting to live in a loft and sleep with cigar-smoking blonde women, as they do on the excellently titled "Lomein Blues." (Michael Hukin, The Rocket)
I love Ultra Bidé. Correction - I fucking love Ultra Bidé! They know how to throw caution to the wind and play their hearts out, and what that sounds like is pure bliss. Well, maybe not bliss. But they certainly do know how to kick out the jams. They play the sort of post-punk caterwauling that makes me happy on both the physical and emotional level. How can I describe them so that you will stop reading this and start buying their music? I can't really explain the joy that this band will bring you except to tell you that they move from Manhattan's Lower East Side to Brooklyn in an effort to escape lame yuppies. What? They play fast, loud, and loose while singing songs of disgust with all that makes big city living so annoying. You want to sum these guys up in one song? Do it. Check out "Lomein Blues," it's all about coming to America and realizing that the American Dream ain't going to happen. They're more punk than anything you'll run into on Haight Street, so check 'em out. (Bean, Slap Magazine)