Rex Pluto – A Hidden Gem from '94 That’ll Knock Your Socks Off
Alright, so let me tell ya about this little treasure I stumbled upon recently: Rex Pluto, the self-titled debut album by none other than Rex Pluto themselves. Released in 1994 (yeah, that’s right—almost 30 years ago!), this record is like a musical smoothie blending rock, blues, funk/soul, and even some jazzy vibes. It’s one of those albums you find when you're not really looking but end up being super glad you did.
First off, it’s wild to think this thing was self-released under their own label. You can kinda hear the DIY spirit all over it, but trust me—it doesn’t feel amateurish at all. The production team, Cliff Goodwin and Steve Going, clearly knew what they were doing because everything sounds tight yet raw, like they didn’t overthink it too much. And props to the band members: Mike Reardon on guitar shredding his way through tracks, Jack Reardon holding down bass duties, Chris Breault keeping time on drums, John Clark adding sax magic, and Larry Hofler bringing serious soul with his vocals. Oh, and did I mention there’s a track called “The Question”? Yeah, we’ll get to that.
Now, let me break down two tunes that stuck with me after giving this album a few spins. First up, “The Question.” Man, this song hits different. From the opening riff, it grabs your attention and doesn’t let go. There’s something about how Larry Hofler delivers the lyrics—it’s got this mix of vulnerability and swagger that just works. Plus, John Clark’s saxophone solo? Absolute fire. Like, goosebumps-level good. If you’re into songs that make you stop whatever you’re doing and just listen, this one’s for you.
Then there’s another standout track—I won’t name it here ‘cause I want you to discover it yourself—but holy cow, the groove on this thing is insane. Between Mike Reardon’s funky guitar licks and Jack Reardon’s basslines locking in perfectly with Chris Breault’s drumming, it’s impossible not to tap your foot or nod along. Honestly, if you close your eyes while listening, you might picture a dimly lit club somewhere in the US back in the mid-’90s, packed with people vibin’ out hard. It’s moments like these where you realize music doesn’t need fancy bells and whistles to hit home; sometimes simplicity does the trick.
What’s funny is, as much as I love albums with big-name labels behind them, there’s something refreshing about an underdog project like this. It feels real, y’know? Like these guys weren’t trying to chase trends—they just wanted to create something honest. And honestly? They nailed it.
So yeah, if you’re digging around for some lesser-known gems from the ‘90s, give Rex Pluto a shot. Who knows? Maybe you’ll end up loving it as much as I do. Or maybe you’ll hate it. Either way, isn’t that part of the fun?
Oh, and here’s a random thought before I sign off: Why don’t more bands name themselves after planets anymore? Just saying.