By which I do not mean that Ms. Christmas has found God. I meant “CHRIST!” more in a “screaming random shit when you orgasm” kinda way.

‘Cause while Made Out of Babies’ often seemingly badshit crazy (in the best possible way) front lady announced her first solo album, The Bad Wife, back in June, now the album has a November 9 release date via Rising Pulse Records, and — score!!! — not one, but two tracks from the album have been released: “Bow” and “July 31.” And if for some reason you were worried about a Baby-less Christmas, well, don’t be. These songs are just grand: original and visceral and elegant and scary and intriguing and all the things you’ve loved about Christmas’ work with MOOB, Battle of Mice, and Spylacopa. I can’t wait to hear the rest of this album.

Check out the new songs here.

-AR

Made Out of Babies’ masterpiece, The Ruiner, came out exactly two years ago today, and to be honest, I was hoping there might be a new MOOB album in the not-too-distant future — especially after watching them absolutely annihilate live earlier this year.

Well, the bad news is that there’s news on the MOOB front, vocalist/batshit crazy front lady Julie Christmas will be releasing her first solo album, The Bad Wife, sometime this fall. Our first taste of the album will apparently be a song called “July 31st,” which will appear in a feature film called Wrong Turn at Tahoe. The movie stars Cuba Gooding, Jr. and Harvey Keitel and was directed by the dude who made the barely-watchable P2, so I’m assuming the Christmas track will be the best thing about the flick. Luckily, Ms. Christmas is doing a video for the song, so hopefully none of us will ever have to suffer through Tahoe to hear it.

And that’s not all Julie has been busy with!

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Call it the Sarah Palin Effect: so much is already stacked against In This Moment (a metalcore band two to three years after metalcore flickered out with an incredibly attractive frontwoman equipped with a ridiculously provocative sense of fashion) that the bar is set almost comedicaly low. But much like struggling to answer simple follow-up questions during one of your first televised national interviews, any slight hint of competency already exceeds expectations, and by many, will be perceived a victory. I wouldn’t call The Dream, the band’s latest album, a victory by any means, but considering the flaccidity of the genre in which it exists, they manage to ascend from “Why do bands like this still make music?” to “Not that bad, really,” with relative ease. Though by no means a classic, it wobbles between lame metalcore and admirable pop-rock somewhat effortlessly to maybe work their way onto the guilty pleasure heap – no small achievement when considering the ocean of sneers and venom already directed their way before playing a note.

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