“Please note that this album runs just under 12 minutes,” the promo page for Tony Molina’s 12-song Dissed and Dismissed warns. “Just so you know.” It’s a worthwhile heads up: Hearing a Tony Molina song for the first time can be a bit disorienting. We’re used to the kind of power-pop he makes abiding by certain rules and forms—three chords, three minutes, a chorus that repeats enough times for first-time listeners to be singing along by the end—but the songs on Dissed and Dismissed slyly toy with expectations. Take “Nowhere to Go”, the crunching slacker anthem that opens the album: Two sing-songy verses followed by a harmonized, Thin Lizzy-esque solo that feels like a build-up to something… but actually just turns out to be a finale. Most of the songs (which range from 26 seconds to an epic minute-and-a-half) on the album proceed similarly. And yet, somehow, ”album” is the right word here. Dissed and Dismissed is more fully realized—and packs more of a punch—than plenty of records five times its length. Call it a half-a-half-hour of power.
Molina’s been a staple in the San Francisco hardcore scene for years now—he’s played in the bands Ovens, Caged Animal, Dystrophy, and Lifetime Problems, to name a few—but his solo work lets his sharp pop instincts shine. Initially released in early 2013 as a tape on the small Bay Area label Melters, Dissed and Dismissed became an instant cult favorite, quickly selling out its first pressing. (Later in the year, he also released the taut, self-explanatory Six Tracks E.P. as a part of Matador’s Singles Going Home Alone Series.) Now, to bide the time while he records a new full-length for Slumberland and in hopes of reaching a larger audience, the label has reissued Dissed and Dismissed.
Molina’s music combines Ted Leo’s taste in riffs, Rivers Cuomo’s record collection circa “In the Garage”, and Robert Pollard’s attention span. In one of its most subdued moments, Dissed and Dismissed includes an acoustic cover of the early Guided By Voices song “Wandering Boy Poet”, and it feels like an obvious nod to the kindred spirits who believe that a song that exceeds two minutes has long overstayed its welcome. There’s a crucial difference in the ethos of these artists, though. The brevity of early Guided By Voices tracks conveyed a certain shrug, Pollard’s demeanor always seeming to say, “I got bored with this one before I could write an ending or mix it properly.” Brief as they are, though, every one of Molina’s songs sounds finished—these are complete thoughts. The melancholy “Can’t Believe” moves through a whole sunset of tonal hues; it’s the shortest song Teenage Fanclub never wrote. Another highlight, “Don’t Come Back”, begins as a pop-punk song, ramps up to a bubblegum-hardcore breakdown, and then ends in a blaze of of signal flare riffage. It works because it’s confident, polished, and deftly executed—not in spite of any of these facts. Combining near-comic concision and hi-fi production lets Molina have the best of both worlds: These songs have a slacker sensibility, but they’re not afraid of occasional brushes with virtuosity.
Dissed and Dismissed ends just before it starts to feel formulaic. Molina’s not reinventing the wheel here, but a guy who’s clever and/or self-deprecating enough to screenprint photos of Thin Lizzy on his “Tony Molina Tour 2013” t-shirts is probably not bothered by that. These songs are too satisfying to make their limits feel like gimmicks. Only time will tell if Molina pushes beyond the stylistic boundaries he’s created for himself here. His next record comes out later this year. Maybe it’ll hit the 15-minute mark.
