Oxes. Oxes? Technically, it would be "Oxen," but if the band gave a shit about things like grammar, they'd probably be teaching 10th grade English, not recording split EPs with Big'N. And speaking of Oxes, here's a band that's pure grit-- a band that cuts through the crap and gets right to the essence of what music is about: direct communication.

Spawned from the depths of Baltimore, Oxes capture the toughness of a city that isn't cosmopolitan or flashy, and has an overwhelming distrust of anything pretentious. The rock is raw-- ain't no two ways about it. Combining the more Storm and Stress side of Don Caballero's polyrhythmic finger-tapping, the balls-out roar of Big'N, and U.S. Maple's affinity for acoustic space and deconstructed riffs, Oxes have invented their own unique style of in-your-face rock. And I mean literally in your face-- they play wireless.

Oxes make music that defies their being pigeonholed into existing genres, and by doing so, they defy the physical laws of punk rock. You won't find them hugging their amplifiers. In fact, you probably won't even find them in the same room with their amplifiers. It's awesome, really; the guitars rock with all the sharpness of Shellac, but these guys can do it while stepping outside for a little fresh air, or while pounding a few back at the bar. Wires are just another way for the Man to keep them down, and Oxes aren't havin' none of it.

If this EP were comprised solely of Oxes material, it would have been a pretty flawless release. From the pulsing, siren-like screeching of the guitars on "And Giraffe: Natural Enemies" through the highly amusing, self-referential metaconversation on "China, China, China" (which features discussion about "vintage" candy bars, layered over top of an ambient soundscape of feedback and noise), these Charm City ruffians have coughed up the most thoroughly enjoyable rock of recent memory.

But Momma said you should always share, and thus Oxes' three songs are countered by three from Chicago's disbanded Big'N. Even though Big'N could throw down like a bloodier-throated Shellac, their songs just sound a bit dull in comparison with those of Oxes. Not bad by any means, but the teacher has once again been overshadowed by the student. If anything, these two bands complement each other brilliantly as an example of where this variety of raw rock has been, and where it's heading.

-Andrew Goldman