Colonized Best Of The New Colony Six: A Garage Rock Gem That Kicks Ass
Let’s get one thing straight—this ain’t your polished, overproduced rock album. Colonized Best Of The New Colony Six is raw, unfiltered garage rock with a punch that’ll knock you sideways. Released in 1993 on Rhino Records (yep, the same label that gave us punk and metal classics), this compilation screams US grit through every scuffed-up note. Produced by Bill Inglot, who clearly knew how to keep it real, this record doesn’t try to impress—it just does. And holy hell, does it deliver.
First off, let’s talk about “I’m Just Waiting Anticipating For Her To Show Up.” Yeah, yeah, the title's a mouthful, but damn if it doesn’t hit hard. This track barrels outta nowhere like a runaway train, all jangly guitars and desperate vocals. It’s got this jittery energy, like someone pacing their apartment waiting for their date to show while chain-smoking cigarettes. The lyrics are simple but brutally honest—you can feel the guy’s nerves shredding as he waits. If you’ve ever been stood up or left hanging, this song will slap you right back into those awkward moments. You don’t forget something this visceral.
Then there’s “Things I’d Like To Say,” which hits different but still packs a wallop. It’s slower, moodier, almost brooding, with layers of guitar fuzz coating the whole thing like grease on an engine. The melody sneaks up on you, wrapping itself around your brain until you’re humming it hours later. What gets me is the tension—the push-and-pull between frustration and longing. It’s not sappy; it’s pissed-off romanticism at its finest. Whoever wrote this must’ve had some serious baggage they needed to unload.
Now, credit where it’s due: the writers behind these tracks weren’t messing around. Guys like Kollenburg, McBride, and Rice brought their A-game, crafting songs that stick like gum under a diner table. These dudes weren’t trying to reinvent the wheel—they were perfecting it. Even the production has this rough-around-the-edges charm, like hearing a live band in a dive bar where the amps are too loud and the crowd doesn’t care because it rules anyway.
But here’s the kicker: listening to this album feels like finding a time capsule from another era. Not the squeaky-clean ‘60s nostalgia bullshit, but the messy, sweaty truth of what rock ‘n’ roll used to be before corporate execs sanitized it. Tracks like “Cadillac” and “Roll On” remind you why garage rock mattered—it wasn’t safe, it wasn’t pretty, but it was alive.
So yeah, Colonized Best Of The New Colony Six might not change your life, but it sure as hell won’t bore you either. It’s the kind of album that makes you wanna crank the volume, crack open a beer, and tell the world to fuck off for a bit. And honestly? We need more music like that today. Screw perfection—give me passion any day.
Oh, and one last thing: whoever thought naming a track “(The Ballad Of The) Wingbat Marmaduke” was a good idea deserves a medal. Pure genius.
