Citric Dummies

Citric Dummies

Split With Turnstile

Feel It

***Citric Dummies are everything that makes modern rock n’ roll wonderful. Their energy leaps out of the speakers, their tempos will furrow the brow of any fist-pumping speed purist, and their irreverence dances quite artistically on the line between provocative and antagonistic without ever being juvenile or cruel. Indeed, the Minneapolis power trio flex their jester’s privilege on their new album Split With Turnstile with a tongue that has bored entirely through cheek, and spits just a little bit of blood at you.More than anything, Citric Dummies represent a natural progression from bands like Reagan Youth with snappy, fast, and extremely tight drum parts that work the hell out of the closed hi-hat and fall around the speeds of bands like Generacion Suicida, Dark Thoughts, or even The Ergs! Riff-wise, the band has a lot more in common with Barely Legal-era the Hives, Dwarves, and bits of early Arctic Monkeys, while vocalist/bassist “David Lunch” shouts, bellows, and wails throughout Split With Turnstile; a plain departure from what was described as “pretty much doing a Danzig impersonation,” on their 2023 release Zen and the Arcade of Beating Your Ass. Citric Dummies, however, exude a love of absurdity that none of these bands possess. Their pseudonyms for the other 66% of the band on this album are drummer D.V. Tinner and guitarist David Cronutberger.

Citric Dummies

Trapped in a Parking Garage

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"Jeff Goldblum takes a deep breath and initiates the teleportation sequence, unaware that lurking in the corner of the telepod are three greasy eighth grade boys quoting their favorite lines from Kids In The Hall sketches. The sequence initiates; a crack of static; a horrible flash of white hot light. Dramatically backlit and shrouded in fog, what emerges from the adjacent telepod is not so much man-child as teenage lobotomy. The camera jumps to a tight shot on the receding hairlines of three dumb assholes: “Look out world…” they whisper with an off-putting wink into the camera. “I’m eatin’ Arby’s.” This is the CITRIC DUMMIES and that is a reference to their song lyrics! Yes, you do not have to ask: this shit is dumb. Lyrics like “I'm driving a piece of shit because I am a piece of shit” dumb. I hear fear in their voices: this is both a reference to Lee Ving’s phlegm and the fact this band is naked and lost in a parking garage, “A traffic cone used for modesty (It’s not a giant orange dick, you see)”. But unlike FEAR, this band does not hate you, for they are too busy hating themselves. “Fuck you!” you yell at them, and they know why. When you see these Citric Dummies (and oh, you simply must!), you will notice their jackets—matching in satin, unique in color. A bassist in green satin, like a lime, and bald (not unlike a lime…). Guitarist? In lemon yellow; he...

Citric Dummies

Zen And The Arcade Of Beating Your Ass

Feel It

***"Bursting out of a burning trash heap like some mutated, blitzed skeleton in a leatherjacket, Citric Dummies thrash their listeners with a heavy dose of pulverizing punk madness on their latest LP Zen and The Arcade of Beating Your Ass. The Minneapolis based trio have previously released a handful of endlessly infectious records on US and Euro labels like Erste Theke Tonträger, Fashionable Idiots, and Another Label- luring in unsuspecting punks with their aberrant, tuneful noise. Citric Dummies rip turbocharged, catchy songs riddled with big hooks that are inhaled like paint fumes by fans of niche KBD gems and classics like The Ramones and The Misfits. The band has signed with Feel It Records to release their most dialed and corrosive record to date- a pièce de résistance for LSD enthusiasts and jabronis alike. Produced by Erik Nervous (known for his own project as well as production work with The Spits and Liquids), Zen and The Arcade of Beating Your Ass Is a masterclass in unpretentious and unrelenting party punk. The cover is a clever mockery of Hüsker Dü's Zen Arcade waving a friendly middle-finger paying homage to the punk heroes of yore. Citric Dummies power through 14 songs in 23 minutes in a psychotic frenzy. The songs conjure chaotic and hilarious glimpses into the everyday life of a hesher self-deprecating, taking copious amounts of illicit substances, and kicking the teeth out of the phonies that step in their way. Sonically, Citric Dummies have honed their knuckle-dragging craft, and sound...