New Year's Evil & the 2007 Honor Roll

Before I begin my usual lengthy screed re: the Slab du Jour, here's the year-end wrap of what and/or who mattered @ SLN. It's no Top 10 list, I pretty much hated what I heard in 2007, thus:

- Mars: Thanks for your contributions here. I might've nuked this thing permanently if you hadn't stepped in to lend a hand.

- Irish Dave: For being one of the first, and most consistent supporters of this blog-- not to mention for starting your own great site.

- Lonesome Cowgirl: For being the coolest Femme Fatale on the net (as well as having great taste in tuneage).

- Goinsidemyhead: Your rants make my day-- even if I disagree with/don't understand every word. Don't stop, man.

- Kevin @Sector 2814: Great feedback, great blog. A fellow hockey puck to boot.

- The guy from L.A. who called me a "sexist pig" and a "faggot" in the same sentence. What could bring a smile to yer cheeks faster than base-level hypocrisy?

- Mick Farren: For giving me faith in the old-school rockers... he, for one, gets it. He even gave SLN a recommendation here.

- Electric Wizard: For proving me right -- you are the most redundant band in metal. That's three unlistenable albums in a row. Please break up before #4 or at least change your name so I'm not filled with hope every time I plunk down $20.

- Most of all, thanks for the hours of pleasure provided by the music of the artists I've featured here. I'd be dead or in a rubber room if not for y'all.

Apologies to anyone I've lunkheadedly left out, friend or foe. Anyway, enough of this holding hands around the fire singing "Aulde Lang Signe" (cue audible sigh of relief from writer and reader alike).



BUFFALO (AUS) - Only Want You for Your Body

Ridiculous album cover (complete with half-naked, morbidly obese woman)? Check. Sexual innuendo as an art-form? Check. Gruff, macho vocals? Check. One heavy guitar riff piled on top of another after another? Check. Shit kids, I believe we have ourselves an entry into the early metal sweepstakes! Buffalo were/are often referred to as the Aussie Black Sabbath, which is partially on the money; They wuz fuckin' loud and obsessed with the gloomier side of life-- but these yobs possessed a whole 'nother personality-- a swingin', sex-crazed playfulness that set 'em apart from the Boys From Birmingham.

Only Want You for Your Body, released in 1974, was their third LP and final gasp of greatness. Despite often sounding as lead-footed as a white fratboy who regularly dons Hawaiian shirts, there's definitely some groove to the Buffalo sound. They're tighter'n teenage cootch, which is an apt analogy as that seems to be what's on their minds most o' the time. If you're a fan of the genre, you'll be won over immediately by sonic sucker-punches like "I'm a Skirt Lifter, Not a Shirt Raiser" and the not-quite-psych, not-quite-metal headfuck of the heavily phased/panned "Dune Messiah". "What's Going On", with its crude, repetitive main riff and piercing screeches courtesy of David Tice, brings to mind pre-leather 'n' studs Judas Priest, if that means anything to ya.

Guitar God John Baxter was relieved of his duties before this opus even hit the streets. They became a run of the mill, AOR-style hard rock band for two more albums before throwing in the towel in 1978.

Look in the comments.

CONSUMERS - All My Friends Are Dead

Call me a Luddite, but things plain ain't as good as they used to be-- and that's coming from a guy who hates alla that "old dude" talk. I actually do make an attempt, (however feeble) to stay on top of what the "kids" are diggin' these daze... and as I should I guess, I end up scratchin' my old cranium wonderin' what the fuck all the fuss is all about. I certainly don't feel threatened by the hippin' & hoppin' or the dorks making beeps with their laptops. I'm all for it, ya understand-- if that's what gets ya laid in these culturally declining years, so be it. On the other end of the spectrum, I get why youse old rock 'n' rollers find them little bastards with the floppy bangs and eyeliner repulsive... but hey, remember when y'all didn't have a particularly crisp identity yourselves? Take a look back at some of your high school pix to refresh yer memory if'n ya don't believe me.

Anyhoo, I'm not preaching tolerance on either side-- what does it matter when R&R is little more than a moribund art form? Pretty soon-- if it hasn't already happened-- we rockers will be relegated to the same abyss that jazzbos and blues fanatics dwell in. Outdated... Outta touch... Luddites. That doesn't change the fact that there's nothing being released today as good as the Groundhogs, Thin Lizzy, Electric Eels or Discharge. As Lester Bangs once put it: "That's not nostalgia-- it's good taste."

{As I'm sure many of you already have, ignore the preceding 251 words; That's where the "blogging" part of this site comes in-- I heard somewhere that you're supposed to contribute "personal thoughts" on these things.}

Can't say I've heard any recent punkers that are worthy of carrying the Consumers guitar cases, either. Formed in Thee Year of Punk, 1977, in Phoenix, Arizona by three krautrock freaks -- guitarists Paul Cutler and Mikey Borens, along with vocalist David Wiley, the Consumers played no-frills punk rock that may or may not've been the birth of hardcore. Thirty years hasn't diminished the god-like power of their vicious crud one smidgen. I would go so far as to opine that the only way you couldn't/wouldn't recognize the genius of "All My Friends" is if you're one of them Mall-Punk types that stick yer chest out further when you've got My Chemical Romance blarin' limply on yer Ipod (Oops! Old Dude Talk). Much like Australia's Sick Things, their sound was primitive and thuggish, recorded in an 8-track demo studio that thankfully allowed the seething violence to explode outta yer speakers. This shit still sounds dangerous-- every bit as hair-raising as the first time Thee Ig carved himself up with a broken bottle.

Cutler formed 45 Grave after the Consumers' demise in '78 -- a band I have little to no use for (their re-recordings of Consumers ditties in particular), but I likes to provide the unnecessary details, as ya know.

Look in the comments, dickweed.

Glooviness Rive!

BLUES CREATION - Live!

Straight from the Japan Folk Jamboree Circa 1971 comes Thee Mighty Blues Creation with their brand of electrified/electrifying bastardized heavy rock riffage. Yer unworthy earholes will have an audial orgasm as Lord of Hot Licks Kazuo ‘Flash’ Takeda and his band of not-so-merry-men stomp all over those foolish notions you had about what comprised Great Hard Rock.

Beginning in 1969 as a pedestrian, John Mayall's Bluesbreakers imitation, Kaz saw the limitations of being a purist and drafted a whole new lineup to shit all over such pursuits. He undoubtedly sat down with a big reefer and half-consciously nodded his noggin along with the first Sabbath LP... and the stone was cast. The Blues Creation Mk. II (Vocalist Fumio Nunoya, bassist Takayuki Noji & Minister of Battery Shinichi Tashiro) unleashed their masterwork, "Demon & Eleven Children" in '70 to plenty o' fanfare in their native Japan. They were so respected in fact, that their label, Columbia Japan, wanting a shot to sign then-free agent, but extremely popular pop diva Carmen Maki, used 'em as bait to get her to sign on the dotted line (she'd been itchin' to be taken seriously as a rock 'n' roller).

That collaboration, the imaginatively-titled, "Blues Creation & Carmen Maki" is unlistenable at worst and mediocre at best. Maki, despite having decent range, had horrible phrasing and quite frankly, had nary a rockin' bone in her lovely body. The band pumped out their usually head-spinning thunder all to no avail. Luckily, she only appears on one track on this here live LP (the easily skippable "Understand"), their swansong. They torch Muddy's "Rolling Stone" and gobble, chew and spit out Loudermilk-by-way-of-Blues-Magoos standard, "Tobacco Road". The highlight though, is the fuck-the-overdubs, screw-the-subtlety version of "Demon & Eleven Children"-- the boys positively rape their instruments on this 'un. Don't get much better'n this, kids.

You're about to look in the comments, right? Why not type a contribution of some kind while yer at it?

Demolición!

LOS SAICOS - Wild Teen Punk From Peru, 1965

Such. Jaw-droppingly. Astounding. Savagery! Los Saicos did not so much play their instruments as they attacked 'em, spewing Dick Dale-esque, bloody-knuckled, double-picked riffing coated with echoplex abuse and the slashing chords of punk topped off with truly otherworldly vox courtesy of Erwin Flores (who admitted being influenced by Paul Anka of all people!!). What's even more mind-melting is that a band with such a fearsome croak were so revered in their time, that in their home province of Lima, Peru, they had their own TV show, and were recently given a commemoration (2005). We obviously have a lot to learn, huh?

Formed in '64 by the aforementioned shouter Flores, Rolando Carpio (lead guitar), César "Papi" Castrillón (bass) and drummer Pancho Guevara, they originally called themselves "Los Sádicos" (The Sadists), but public outcry forced 'em to drop a letter, and revert to using English pronunciation, becoming good-ole-fashioned "psychos". They released six singles during their brief existence (all collected here), all released on the tiny DisPerú label. There's an intangible vibe of evil (not that I believe in such simplistic concepts, but it'll hafta do) lurking in the seemingly benign refrain, TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-YA-YA-YA from their mucho classico "Demolición"-- as far as their contemporaries go, it even beats down the likes of the Sonics with its unrestrained malice.

Look in the comments, dumbass.

Master axeslinger Rolando Carpio sadly passed away in 2005. This post is dedicated to him. RIP.

Lord of Chaos

BLOOD AXIS - The Gospel of Inhumanity

Undoubtedly, this will be the most controversial album I'll ever post. Blood Axis is the brainchild of Michael Moynihan, more infamous for his contribution to popular myth-- that being his tome on the Norwegian black metal scene, "Lords of Chaos", than for his music. Which is unfortunate, as "The Gospel of Inhumanity" is filled with a near-Wagnerian grandeur seldom achieved by musicians working within the rock (term used very loosely in this case) idiom. Incorporating Bach, Prokofiev, Nietzsche, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Charles Manson and Ezra Pound may sound like a heady mix, yet Moynihan and collaborator Robert Ferbrache bring these diverse inspirations together seamlessly. The lyrics, when not provided by outside sources, are based upon philosophical Satanism, Ásatrú (Norse Paganism) and Social Darwinism. When such a cocktail is concocted, it stands to reason that fascists of every stripe would embrace it, and of course, they have. I, on the other hand, give not one iota of a fuck about anyone's perceived or outspoken politics. Moynihan, when pressed about his political ties, was once quoted as saying:

"Whether they're the Marxist/Communist/Socialist people who think that humans want to get along on a grand scale, or whether it's the Nazis, who think that if everyone was just of the same race, they'd all get along perfectly, or the anarchists, who think everyone would love to live this way if you just took away the police. They're all deluded. People should worry about what happens on their block. They should get along with their neighbors before they worry about the great ills of society and about telling someone who lives 200 miles away what to do."

Certainly that's a pretty vanilla response, not to mention the "right" one (no pun intended), but then again, I see no reason why he needs to justify anything or answer for anything. Nor should I be making apologies or excuses of my own. The bottom line is that should you allow yourself to succumb to the pleasures of this mini-symphony, it will change your life. For the better. It may be a lot of things, but it is NOT "white power" music.

If you're sitting on the fence or remain unconvinced, DO NOT proceed to the comments.

"Four Post-Hippie Robin Hoods...

PINK FAIRIES - MANDIES & MESCALINE ROUND AT UNCLE HARRY'S

...with a record deal." At least that's how drummer Twink describes his former band, the Pink Fairies, in the liners to this here CD.

Formed from the ashes of the Deviants in 1970, Twink, who had recently left the Pretty Things (of course I'm not forgetting his work on the brilliant Tomorrow LP), was joined by former Devies Paul Randolph (guitar), Duncan Sanderson (bass) and second drummer Russell Hunter. They were a drug-fueled battering ram of a band; At times you can almost feel your teeth grinding together from too many "mandies" as if by osmosis.

This 1998 collection brings together legit and bootleg performances-- their debut BBC appearance, a John Peel Session-- where they are augmented by former Move axeman, Trevor Burton, and two tracks from their legendary 1971 Glastonbury Fayre triumph (hence only available on a very difficult to find triple LP).

Tracks:

1. Lucille (Top Gear 1970)

2. The Snake (Top Gear 1970)

3. Johnny B. Goode (In Concert 1971)

4. Uncle "Henry's" Last Freakout (In Concert 1971)

5. Do It! (Glastonbury Fayre)

6. Uncle Harry's Last Freakout (Glastonbury Fayre)

Look in the comments, Junior.

Fuck Off, Pilgrim

JON WAYNE - Texas Funeral

SLN returns to the Musical Twilight Zone. A metaphysical netherworld where Hasil Adkins and the Legendary Stardust Cowboy break bread over bottles of Thunderbird. Elvis shows up, hands out funny little pills in every shade of the rainbow; Charlie Feathers wouldn't show-- he's still itchin' to kick the King's royal ass for takin' his song into the Top 10 without givin' him his props.

I know very little about the entity that named themselves after who may very likely be the worst "actor" of all-time. In fact, I can't even recollect what made me seek it out; it certainly had no "buzz" surrounding it at the time (1994). I think it's safe to assume they were from Texas, as the Lone Star State is reverently spoken of at least a hundred times-- 7 of the 15 tracks are also named in its honor. Upon first listening to it, I immediately wondered if the Wiggins sisters had a long-lost brother no one knew about-- the Boo Radley-type, most assuredly someone who had been hidden in the family attic for at least three decades. Certainly the Shaggs would've approved of the ramshackle tempos & sub-sub-sub-Beefheartian stream-of-consciousness, uh... lyrics and beyond outta tune guitar riffs. Every "song", such as they are, sounds like it was made up on the spot; when it's decided everyone is on the same umm... wavelength, Mr. Wayne slurs something about Texas or bandmate Jimbo & they're off!

You are then treated to tales of gas station attendants with bad English, shooting a man's horse for revenge, funerals (natch), apple schnapps (which may or may not be a mutant form of innuendo) and "owl caricatures" (Who? Sorry, couldn't resist). Some people call this stuff "mongo rock" or "outsider music", certainly more'n a few folks I've subjected to it called it "offensive", "racist", "stupid", "worthless" etc. But, since I have little to no respect for those people, you can take that as a recommendation.  I know they affirmed my opinion that the only term that applies to this LP is essential.

Postius Scriptius: If this was a buncha college kids taking the piss, please don't tell me.

Comments, y'all-- comments are great; Great to look in for treasures, great to look in for well... comments.

Soundtrack For An Imaginary Freakout

NAZ NOMAD & THE NIGHTMARES - Give Daddy the Knife, Cindy

Here we have the Damned in disguise paying tribute to some of their fave garage/psych "nuggets". Clever pseudonyms (Dave Vanian becomes Mr. Naz, Capt. Sensible turns into Sphinx Svenson, and Rat Scabies into Nick Detroit) and a fantastic 60's exploito-flick cover completes the transformation. With the post-Brian James fire sadly missing from Damned recordings of the era (1984), this was/is a breath of fresh air, allowing the band to let their hair down and flat out have a good fucking time (Of course I dug a fair amount of "Machine Gun Etiquette"... shaddup). My picks to click: Their sleazy reworking of Paul Revere & the Raiders' "Kicks", and in particular, their faithful rendering of the Seeds' "The Wind Blows Your Hair" has one of my favorite Vanian vocals ever.

You know where to look by now, doncha?

JEFF DAHL - Wasted Remains of a Disturbing Childhood

Jeff Dahl is a battle-scarred veteran of underground rock 'n' roll. You may know him for his work with Vox Pop or thee legendary Angry Samoans, but he has also been a prolific solo artist, mining the same turf as (in my pantheon at least) The Big Four: MC5, Velvet Underground, Stooges & New York Dolls. Since he's never been a part of a corporation that pays the various hacks 'n' whores of rock "journalism" to pimp his work, he's about 1/1,000,000,000th as popular as the Strokes-- which is a pity, but such opportunists aren't worthy of sitting on the same barstool as Jeff Dahl.

After relocating from the City of Angels to the Arizona desert in the early 90's, Dahl built a home studio and set about putting together "Wasted Remains". With his guitar-slinging compadre, the trusty Ratboy (then of L.A. glam misfits Motorcycle Boy, later of Pillbox [NYC] & Sour Jazz) this album was recorded "during the L.A. Riots without the benefit of rose-colored glasses". I've heard weak-kneed punks (y'know, the ones who write for no-ply toilet paper like MRR) liken this album to "cock rock" and other terms as equally uninformed-- I guess there's something wrong with actually having a sex drive if yer a punk? Is punk strictly for asexuals? Mind you, these are the same people who think it's impossible to be a punk if you happen to have long hair or a beard, so it's best to let them continue constructing their "rules" and perfecting their uniforms-- the rest of us will simply throw on platters like this and rock.

And rock you will to catchy little ditties like "Mercy Me" (an ode to sittin' around listenin' to the Chesterfield Kings) and "A Dash of Prayer" that features an impressive guitar-duel from Dahl & Ratboy. The cover of "1969" is frankly... embarassing, but is quickly redeemed by drummer/saxman Dave Naz's sub-Ornette Coleman skronkfeast, "L.A. Blows" (with a nudge 'n' wink to "Fun House", geddit?). This is 100% honest, often poignant music performed with a fuckload of heart and guts-- and with such commodities in dangerously short supply these daze, I can't give a much higher recommendation than that.

Look in the comments-- and make like a guitar leaned up against an amp & leave some feedback!

 

 

 

"I Don't Want To Get Better."

Is he gone? Okay... this is just a quick one while he's away...

CARBONAS - 1st EP (demo?)

Okay, so I've lived in Atlanta since 1998 and have watched as the scene went from struggling post-noise rock to self congratulatory R&R into the blossoming underground units we have today. It's no surprise that Black Lips, Deerhunter and Carbonas are all on the rise - they all hung out together, booked all of the good shit from outta town, and had to play increasingly competitive gigs. Ultimately the Lips prevailed, I mean, the DAY AFTER 9/11 these dumbasses advertised their next show on a photocopy of the second plane about to hit. This all came after the penis fires and on stage head - as far as rock that makes adults really angry goes, of course they were destined for greatness. Deerhunter, well, being too close to the source, I 'll say they're a great live act and move on to Carbonas.

Carbonas are still pretty good, but the original line up is my favorite. At the time they formed, I worked with singer Greg and then guitarist BJ (later of The Lids, now in some other thing I can't remember) at a pizza joint. Greg and I bonded over 80's thrash metal and GISM, but BJ was pure entertainment. Here's some nuggets from BJ's oeuvre: A girl told him to hold a fire cracker till it exploded, he did. His fingers went numb and he'd keel over practically in tears whenever he coughed for a week. He claimed to never practice playing guitar because, as he put it "I don't want to get better". After leaving Carbonas (I think he may have refused learning a third chord), BJ started The Lids, which was him, a drummer, and four of the hottest girls in town on back up vocals - none of whom would give him the time of day. BJ was/is awesome in his own tragic way.

Carbonas seem to be poised to really blow up this year and join the kids in 'THE ATLANTA SCENE tm', so I thought I'd let loose this demo EP I got off Greg in 2001 (I think). They do a Real Kids tune, 'Jaguar Ride' (who coulda clued them in on the Electric Eels? hmmm) and six originals in about 12 minutes of raw as fuck snot rawk. Great stoof. link in comments, you greedy fux.

Getcha Headcoat On

THEE HEADCOATS - Brother is Dead... but Fly is Gone!

Billy Childish is a genuine Patron Saint of Rock & Roll. Toiling away in obscurity since 1979, he has been thee most inhumanly prolific underground artist you can imagine, releasing 100's of albums with countless bands & collaborators, as well as at least 50 volumes of poems/screeds. All of this while suffering from severe dyslexia... did I mention he also paints? A True Renaissance Man, he lusts for neither fame nor fortune, and stubbornly adheres only to his own unique vision without compromise. I firmly believe there'll be a religion formed in his honor where deerstalkers will be worn by the inner council who decide what to put in the Kool-Aid... if there isn't one already.

On "Brother is Dead", Billy & Co. pay homage to some of their icons: Richard Hell, Johnny Moped, Dave Berry and Satan Wept... the Electric Eels! Yes, it takes a hardy soul to tackle "Agitated", yet tackle it they do in their glorious lo-fi way-- mark it down as my second-favorite version of Thee Greatest Punk Song Ever Written (no one but no one can touch the original).

What is even more impressive is that:

1. They make the Clash sound like like a band capable of decent songs on their versions of "1977" & "What's My Name"-- something I would've previously pfft'd at as a statistical impossibility.

2. They deliver a rendering of "Louie Louie" that is so absolutely blistering, it annihilates at least 89, 673 of its previous adaptations.

3. Thee Man From Chatham, Blighty even has the unmitigated audacity to cover himself (in this case, Thee Mighty Caesars' "Loathsome & Wild").

This is garage rock in its purest and most potent form Kats 'n' Kitties. Look in thee comments if thou wishist to worship.



DOWNLINERS SECT - Definitive: A's & B's

Speaking of icons, here's another in the admittedly narrow canon of Mr. Childish and his fans-- the Downliners Sect (in fact, they formed an alliance in the early 90's as Thee Headcoat Sect). Arriving in the same fertile British R&B era that produced the Stones, Yardbirds, Them, ad infinitum, the Sect stood out for a few reasons: Most distinctively, they never abandoned their love for simplistic, three-chord Bo/Chuck revamps. While their contemporaries moved on to the various trends of the day, be it the first blooms of psychedelia or blue-eyed soul, the Sect remained firmly rooted in their original inspirations. Their ouevre also had/has a sloppy, let's-get-it-the-fuck-on-tape-now!-Now!-NOW! urgency that eschews instrumental proficiency for spur-of-the-moment immediacy (something else Billy Childish would adopt).

This 29 (!) track career overview begins with their first-ever (1963) demos recorded in mainman Don Craine's basement, and ends with their 1967 Pye single, "I Can't Get Away From You" b/w "Roses". In between, not only are you treated to their deliciously unkempt honky blues, you get their beatifically shambling attempts at pop (the immortal "Glendora" for one) and their crucial "Sing Sick Songs" EP that finds the Sect in novelty song territory-- but don't let that put you off; all of 'em are odes to Old Man Death.

Need I say look in the comments? Dare I ask for one?

A Quick One Til I'm Away

Yeah, yeah I said I was taking a break-- and I am-- as soon as I get this post outta the way as I'd already started working on it before my lack of patience reached Critical Mass. If you're familiar with the old blog, you know that I'm a big fan of ESP-Disk, these guys in particular:

GODZ - The Third Testament

Here's where the Godz decided to "get musical" adding such luminaries as "Howie's Cousin" and "J. ?" At least that's its reputation, but in truth, "The Third Testament" is loaded with even more primal potency than its predecessors ("Contact High" & "Godz 2"). Sure, "Ruby Red" and "Walking Guitar Blues" are filled with the same Woody Guthrie-via-Dylanisms that were retch-inducing in the hands of lesser artists, but as performed by NYC's finest, become a big middle finger right up the ass of Flower Power. A line as hippie-dippy as "Since when did they outlaw song?" would be enough to make me go outside to pummel the first moron wearing tie-dye if it were sung by a pus-bag like Joni Mitchell, but from the Mouths of Godz it becomes an indictment; A pisstake on the naive cultural "icons" that surrounded 'em Circa 1968.

Speaking of pisstakes, "Womban" is perhaps the Godz' ultimate achievement-- what at first sounds like a polyrhythmic caveman stomp with no hint of melody, with repeated plays reveals itself as a thrashing of soon-commonplace, uber-macho grunters like Bobby Lemon-Squeezer. "The First Multitude" with its outta tune droning guitars, overwhelming percussion and collage of radio snippets may very well be the birth of krautrock-- spin it back-to-back with Faust's early work and then tell me I ain't onto somethin'.

 

Look in the comments, boys & girls.

 

 

Enjoy This One Cuz...

...it'll most likely be the last one for a while. Unless one or more of you can sweet talk Mars into posting some stuff (don't feel obligated man, I don't care one way or the other). I'm not gonna nuke the blog or anything quite that drastic like last time-- I'll be back at some point. Dunno if I'll be gone a week or a month or longer BUT I know this much for certain: This. Is. Boring. The. Shit. Outta. Me. I've accepted the fact that about 98% of you are apathetic slugs who'd rather stick a hot poker up yer collective arses than leave any feedback-- I've made my peace with that. Nah, it's a simple case of a lack of inspiration-- it seems that I always manage to get away from my intended vision for this thing, and that in turn, frustrates me to no end.

Bottom line: I need to get the hell away from this for a while. But I WILL be back-- I promise, for reals, all that kinda thing.


VARIOUS - Teenage Shutdown: Nobody to Love


This is my absolute favorite of the series-- most likely due to my brooding motherfucker psychological make-up. Mebbe it's the time of year; Y'see, I don't DO X-Mas. Not only is it crass commercialism at its most despicable, its roots in X-anity (don't bother trying to school me in the original pagan evolution of the custom[s]-- I'm well aware and don't give a fuck) repulses me more than I can even begin to describe. It is a sickness that needs to eradicated from the face of this planet... but I digress.

This one has been practically glued to the turntable for the last few weeks. It's subtitled "18 Tales of Tension & Trauma" which equates to the destructive powers of feminine charms on the frail male psyche. So, you get what the label calls "Folk Punk", though I would argue that such a genre doesn't exist-- I mean, how? Phil Ochs, you say? Folkie. Billy Bragg? Woody Guthrie wannabe = Folkie (even that is probably giving him too much credit). Nah, whatcha get here are bands with slightly more melodic aspirations than the archetypal Stones/Pretty Things/Animals worshipers on the majority of the series (Put HUGE quotation marks around "melodic").

Some Notables/Highlights:

-The Shandels' "Shades of Blue" stands out as they were one of the very few 60's garage bands without a guitar in their lineup. Instead, they used a cordovox, which is kind of a cross between a pipe organ & an accordion. The result brings to mind a Cajun barbershop quartet with an um... broken accordion.
- The Answers, who contribute two tracks, were the Misunderstood before they left for England. Glenn Ross Campbell's mind-blowing steel guitar scrapes are unmistakable. The anti-war rant, "Fool Turn Around" is particularly fine.
- The Rogues' "You Better Look Now" is perhaps the most authentic early Byrds cop I've ever heard. Immaculate chiming 12-string & downright cloned McGuinn vocal. Great song to boot-- if nothing else, you can play it for your friends (if you have any) as a long-lost "Younger Than Yesterday" outtake.

Track List:

1. The Intruders - Now That You Know
2. The Illusions - Wait Till The Summer
3. The Shandels - Shades Of Blue
4. The Paradox - There's A Flower Shop
5. The Lovin' Kind - I'm Free
6. Mike's Messengers - Cause Of All Man-kind
7. Sonics Inc. - Nobody To Love
8. The Answers - Fool Turn Around
9. The Jades - Surface World
10. The Twilights - It Couldn't Be True
11. The Viscount V - She Doesn't Know
12. The Paragons - Abba
13. The Sounds Like Us - Outside Chance
14. The Rogues - You Better Look Now
15. The Go-Betweens - Have You For My Own
16. The Answers - Please Please Go Away
17. The Plagues - (Clouds Send Down) Tears From My Eyes
18. The Lovin' Kind - Can't Explain

Post Scrotum: The first sub-literate fuckwit to ask, "where are the other volumes?" earns him/herself the dubious distinction of being the second-ever person to have their comment(s) deleted on sight until eternity. You will also be crowned "Scatmuncher of the Year".

Link in comments.

More Canadian Content

THE UGLY - Disorder

Look at me Joey! Thirty years old and all I've got to show is a beat-up car and some beat-up Iggy Pop records! - The Ugly vocalist Mike Nightmare to Joey Keithley (from his book, "I, Shithead")

...a Hoodlum Rocker's always got a crowbar in the trunk of the Cadillac and he don't use it to take tires off, he uses it to take heads off. - The Ugly drummer, Tony Torcher

Ah, so many tales to tell y'all about Toronto's Hoodlum Rockers, The Ugly. Formed in 1976, they were originally called The Rotten-- until a certain Johnny forced 'em to rethink that moniker... becoming (duh) The Ugly. Comprised of the above-quoted Tony & Mike, Sam Ugly mauled the bass & Raymi Gutter handled guitar chores. Unlike so many bands that play the badassery to the hilt, these nogoodniks were the real deal; In fact, it's amazing they managed to leave us with any recordings whatsoever as one member or another was seemingly always behind bars. It got so bad in fact, that singer Mike Nightmare often wore an S&M hood with big yellow sunglasses so's not to be recognized by the cops.

I could also tell ya how Mike would climb on stage wearing nothing but a piece of bologna (with a hole bitten into the center) wrapped around his weenie (keep in mind that GG Allin was nothin' more than a gushy Nikki Corvette groupie at the time), or how he managed to get his ass kicked royally by Thin Lizzy's Phil Lynott. I could even mention the incident captured in the film "Outrage" where they rushed the stage during the Viletones set because of their dismay at being excluded from the bill (which also included Simply Saucer, Battered Wives, Teenage Head and the Concordes). But, as Jenna Haze once said to me: "There comes a time when the yappin's over, and you get to the Box."



Mike Nightmare died in jail in 1998. This post is dedicated to him. RIP.

Look in the comments, Greedy. You might wanna type something in 'em while yer there, eh?

DEATHSTRIKE - Fuckin' Death

Before there was Master, there was Deathstrike. Formed in 1983 after Paul Speckmann left his power/doom outfit, Warcry, this, their only release, has become an underground classic. I actually prefer the DS versions of "The Truth" and "Re-Entry & Destruction" to those that appeared on the self-titled Master LP. The groundwork for what would become grindcore was laid here. Where'd ya think Terrorizer got their name??!

Look in the comments.

MASTER (US) - Unreleased 1985 Album

Yesssss! A holy grail in the realms of metaldom!

If you've never heard of Paul Speckmann, first, go grab the first available person you see and have 'em kick you in whatever genitalia you happen to possess, then d/l this album. After that go to the interviews section of this site and acquaint yourself with his long, but unfortunately, not financially illustrious, career.

Suffice to say that he and his indeterminable hordes of bandmates laid most of the foundation for death metal and grindcore. This album didn't even see the light of day til a few years back, and it's a MONSTER. HC viciousness (and lyrical content) wedded with the dynamics of the-then current aesthetics of thrash-- which, when combined, paved the way for a million better-known, but far less-talented acts to build their "careers".

Link in comments.

RADIO BIRDMAN - Living Eyes

Dunno 'bout you, but I've always felt that Radio Birdman being constantly compared to the MC5 was a tad overstated. They sounded no more like the Five than the Five sounded like the Troggs or the Yardbirds. Certainly the influence is there, particularly in Rob Younger's muscular vocals, but I would contend they had more in common with the Blue Oyster Cult (albeit with far better compositional skills and no irony) than any band from the Motor/Murder City. RB's sound strikes me as being far too streamlined and dare I say, controlled (which makes sense when you take into consideration that band mastermind Deniz Tek became a surgeon not long after this platter was released), to lazily lump 'em in with the Saturn Research-lovin' crew. Could it be the fact that Tek hailed from Ann Arbor?

Quibbles with shiftless rockcrits aside, when "Living Eyes" first appeared in 1981, it had to be mastered from a cassette as the master tapes had mysteriously disappeared from Rockfield Studios in Wales. They were thankfully found over a decade later, and that kids, is where we come in. This reissue has been (obviously) remastered and better yet, resequenced. Now, not only does the band's antipodean thunder wriggle from yer speakers commandingly, it also does so with far more flow than the original. Oh... what could've been. They were beginning to find they own voice with instant classics like "I-94" and "Smith & Wesson Blues"-- songs that straddled the line between their pseudo-punkish debut, "Radios Appear" and the timelessness of their touring mates of the era, the Flamin' Groovies. There's something about this album that screams DRIVING MUSIC! I imagine long, meandering highways surrounded by nothing but wide-open space. Mebbe I should liberate the term, "Desert Rock" from the bong-huffers that listen to cloying Black Sabbath-derivatives like Kyuss?

Take a gander at the comments.

CIANIDE - Cianide Kills (Demo)

If you thought you'd nearly blown yer speakers with the low-end rumblings to be found on Cianide's "Descent Into Hell" LP, wait'll ya get a load of this 1993 demo! Much like the quote attributed to describing Blue Cheer: "They're so heavy they make the air around 'em turn into cream cheese!," Chicago's finest exponents of no-bullshit death metal will smother you in their wall of slow-as-molasses sludge.

Look in the comments!

SLAUGHTER (CAN) - Surrender or Die

No, this isn't the pathetic hair band that was all over MTV in the mid-80's-- this is the pride of Toronto's thrash metal monsters. Picking up where Hellhammer left off (right down to the ARRRGGGH's and HEEEEY's), this is brutal riffing courtesy of Dave Hewson with the sick drum bashin' of Ron Sumners and Terry Sadler's fuzz bass and gargled vox. This demo was released in 1985-- most of the tracks were rerecorded for their Immortal "Strappado" LP, but it's great to hear 'em in their even more raw, bordering-on-hardcore form. The last six songs are bonus tracks
that were recorded in 1985 as well, but not placed on the original tape.

For fans of "nouveau" thrash acts like Municipal Waste, here's a little homework assignment: Put yer ear up reaaaal close to the speakers... hear that? That's thrash metal, you dipshits!

Look in the comments-- and remember: Only posers are afraid to leave some feedback!

Shakin' the Blue Cheer Family Tree

OXFORD CIRCLE - Live at the Avalon 1966

Well, since we already got Randy Holden outta the way, let's focus on some pre-Blue Cheer grunt from Paul Whaley and Gary Yoder, eh? Often mistaken for a San Francisco band because of their regular gigging there, the Oxford Circle were actually from Davis, a college town an hour east. Formed in 1964 from the ashes of the Yoder-led instrumental combo the Hide-Aways, 17 year-old sticksman Whaley was recruited after he blew the bands' collective minds playing "Wipeout" at a public jam session. Dehner Patten (lead guitar) and Jim Keylor (bass) rounded out the lineup.

Heavily influenced by the Animals, Yardbirds and Them, the Circle played a frenetic brand of psych-tinged garage punk laced with generous blasts of Yoder/Patten manipulated feedback. The 14 live (of 18 total) tracks are some of the most scintillating freakbeat to ever scorch these ears. Their version of "Mystic Eyes" is positively cataclysmic with Whaley not only providing bone-chilling cymbal accents to accompany the guitar maelstrom, but taking a rare lead vocal as well (Yoder handles the remaining vox). The result is definitive-- much as I love that miserable old bastard Van Morrison, he and his former band's original is but a mere shadow of the cacophony achieved here. Ditto equally impressive (and explosive) interpretations of "Little Girl", "We Gotta Get Out of This Place" and "Mister, You're a Better Man Than I". The fidelity is excellent by 2007 standards, let alone 1966.

The remaining four ditties are the one 45 released during their existence, "Foolish Woman/Mind Destruction"-- the latter living up to its name; A pastiche of guitar skronk melded together by their producer from an 11 minute jam session (they had no idea they were being recorded at the time) that included a young(er) Dr. John on keys. You also get the never released studio version of "Troubles" and the macabre "The Raven". Whaley and Yoder would of course, join Blue Cheer at different stages (Yoder & Patten in between formed the very West Coast-sounding Kak, another masturbation-inducing item for collector geeks), but it was Keylor who gained the most post-Circle renown by opening BSU studios in Frisco-- where, among many others, the Dead Kennedys' "California Uber Alles" was recorded.

Look in the comments, doofus.

CRAMPS - All Tore Up (aka Ohio Demos)

The one thing that's always pissed me off about the Cramps is that their recordings have never really done their live sound justice-- I mean c'mon, most of the outsiders/pioneers/freaks they covered sound more vicious and in-yer-face, and they were recorded upwards of 20 years before. Whereas Cramps stuff... tinny, lifeless... hell, a lot of 'em sound as uninspired and clinical as anything this side of Slughand Crapton. That kids, is what keeps bringin' me back for my fix via these here studio outtakes from 1979.

How Alex Chilton and the band decided these versions of some of their best tracks deserved to end up unreleased is beyond me. Ivy & Bryan's guitars bash & slash away brutally; near-perfection is achieved by the ever-understated but rock-solid skinspounding of Nick Knox-- and Lux; Fuck me if Lux doesn't sound more obscenely extraterrestrial than even his idol Hasil Adkins at times. This is pure, undiluted Cramps-- now if they'd just put these out legitimately with extra topping....

TRACKS:

Twist & Shout
All Tore Up/Can't Hardly Stand It
Mystery Plane
TV Set
Rockin' Bones
What's Behind the Mask?
Uranium Rock
Under the Wires
Teenage Werewolf
Sunglasses After Dark
Jungle Hop
Mad Daddy

Look in comments & make an attempt to not be a swine by leaving one of yer own!

LICK IT

DWARVES - Horror Stories

This ain't the Dwarves that released generic pop-punk on the Epitaph label. Nor is it the Dwarves that put out a few albums of GG Allin-esque scuzz-punk on Sub Pop. This is yer creepy old uncle's (the guy the rest of your family politely never mentions) Dwarves. Sure Blag Dahlia/Jesus/whateverthefuckhecallshimselfnow and HeWhoCannotBeNamed are present on this recording, but it sho don't sound like the stuff they're (in)famous for.

Before there was Dwarves, there was Chicago's Suburban Nightmare who seemed to have had the none-too-lofty aspirations of jumping on the 80's garage revival bandwagon. Luckily, with their barely-rudimentary musicianship and undoubted mass consumption of illicit substances, they would never reach that goal. After a name change and a relocation to San Francisco, Greg Shaw knew a bad thing when he saw it & signed 'em to his Voxx imprint. The result was this fuzzily blissed-out lysergic masterpiece.

Look in the comments.

ACID EATER - Virulent Fuzz Punk A.C.I.D.

First off, I'm happy to announce that Mars will sit in occasionally @ SLN as a "guest host" so to speak. He has graciously accepted my invitation to do so, so I (as should YOU) look forward to his future contributions. As for the platter du jour, take it away Mars:

ACID EATER is the de-evolution of Yamazaki Maso (aka MASONNA) & Fusao Toda's (guitar Angel'in Heavy Syrup) psych group CHRISTINE 23 ONNA. Where C23O were like the soundtrack to a swinging 60's Hollywood abattoir, ACID EATER dispenses with the bliss and cranks up the violence. It's the sound of velvet gloved fist slamming your head into the monitors at a SONICS show - over and over again!

It's a difficult record, for sure - every instrument is buried so deep in the red the needle is bleeding. It sounds like maybe you shouldn't be listening to it - unhealthy, y'know? It's like a bubblegum Masonna album, dig? A painful kinda fun that, like all great music be it Albert Ayler or Gudon, rewards the adventurous listener with repeated audience.

If you know C23O, 'Top of Spot' (from the final C23O lp 'Acid Eater') returns here, post creepy-crawl, spattered in Tate blood. Also included is a truly sizzled cover of 'Nothing Can Bring Me Down' by The Twillighters (also done by Pussy Galore who are undoubtedly an influence here).

Link in comments.

SLASH YOUR FACE!

THE DOGS - Fed Up!

Y'know that girl that lives around the corner that posted a video of herself blowing her boyfriend while chewing gum on her Whyspace? She's more famous than Lansing, Michigan's Dogs. Which is an absolute travesty that burns me up & down every time I allow myself to think about it. Our "culture" (such as it is) has become so disposable that idiots actually give a shit about talentless, exhibitionist morons who've suddenly developed huge egos (to offset their non-existent self-esteem) becuz they have a digi-cam... but I digress (and honestly, what better way to segue into yappin' 'bout an album called "Fed Up!"?).

Formed in 1969, The Dogs were comprised of Loren Molinare (guitars/lead vox), Mary Kay (bass) and when he wasn't in jail, drummer Ron Wood (They of course all used the surname "Dog"). You should/may know them for the classic "Slash Your Face" which appeared on the first volume of "Killed By Death", or mebbe even "Younger Point of View" which showed up on Rhino's "Saturday Night Pogo" comp. If not, time to get edumacatin' yourself-- this is adrenaline-fueled, MC5-informed High Energy Rock & Roll as only Michigan residents seem to be able to pull off convincingly.

Their first single (and first cut on this CeeDee), "John Rock & Roll Sinclair" was the result of their disappointment with Mr. White Panther's "establishment" attitude after he emerged from prison. Instead of descending into juvenilia, this little anthem simply encourages the former MC5 manager to return to his "Sex, Drugs & Fucking in the Streets" persona. Shortly after its release, they relocated to LaLa Land, lusting for fame. They landed steady gigs, and the 1977 show captured here, from San Francisco's legendary Mabuhay Gardens gives indisputable proof they were a booty-kickin' crew in the flesh.

Link in comments.


SONIC'S RENDEZVOUS BAND - City Slang

It's pretty hard to believe that a band of this caliber went without an official release until "Sweet Nothing" arrived in 1998-- 20 years after their demise. Sonic's Rendezvous Band was formed in DEEEE-troit, Rock/Murder City in 1975 by legendary MC5 guitarist, Fred "Sonic" Smith and ex-Rationals vocalist, Scott Morgan-- fleshed out by the killer rhythm section of ex-Stooges drummer Scott Asheton & bassist Gary Rasmussen of the Up.

With plenty o' drug abuse & long bouts of internal strife, the "City Slang" 45 was their only recorded output in their three-year existence. Labels retardly passed on 'em because of aforementioned troubles, and those of us who wanted to hear 'em hadda survive on a stream of shoddier 'n shoddier live boots-- but no more. There's a box set out there (six discs!), and this here collection of various shows recorded all over the Michigan area gives y'all a straight-from-the-soundboard taste of their soul-infected, bare-knuckled, heavy riff-rock. That immortal first single is here too, of course.

Look in the comments & remember: It's the music yer disrespectin' when you don't leave one your own damn self, not me.

VARIOUS - Ugly Things: The CD

Ever wonder where the Mike Stax-edited, way outta the stratosphere with the trainspottin' details mag got its handle? Here's yer answer, mate-- one o' them there "legendary" compilations devoted to the dirt kicked up by some none too polite Aussie teenagers in the mid-60's. The track itself is a damn fine snooty little ditty by a rowdy bunch who called themselves the Creatures-- and it's here in all that digital magnificence you kids seem to love.

I've got shelves saggin' like a Viagra-free yuppie's dick with these garage comps. I can't believe I've neglected to post even ONE in all this time-- so why not remedy that situation with one of the best, I figger. Actually, it was yesterday's SICK THINGS post that provided the ultimate segue for this beast. Once again, I've been far too kind by providing a slick widget for y'all to sample the goods. My personal pick-to-click is the Blue Stars' "Social End Product"-- I'm not the first (nor will be last) to call it the direct predecessor to the Pistols' "Pretty Vacant"... I mean, wasn't Glen Matlock (yunno, the bass player they had that actually had some talent?) a garage aficionado? Take a listen, kid-- you'll see I'm right as always. Another stone killer is the Modes' version of "Baby Please Don't Go". The details are vague as to this band's origin but I'm gonna take a kuh-razee guess and say they HAD to be from Sydney. Why? Well, a certain little band from that city that came along a few years later used the exact same arrangement when they released it on an EP that had a title I'm forgetting... something about... um, Jail.



Thee Songs:
1. The Missing Links - You're Driving Me Insane
2. The Atlantics - Come On
3. Machine Gun Kelly's Rejects - I'm Going Back
4. The Creatures - Ugly Thing
5. Steve & The Board - Now I'm Older
6. The Elois - By My Side
7. The Others - Look Through My Window
8. Chants R&B - I'm Your Witchdoctor
9. The Pink Finks - Louie Louie
10. The Purple Hearts - Just A Little Bit
11. The Movement - I Wanna Be Free
12. The Modes - Baby Please Don't Go
13. The Masters Apprentices - Poor Boy
14. The Pleazers - Hurtin' All Over
15. The Henchmen - That's All I Want
16. The Four Strangers - Sad & Lonely
17. The La De Da's - How Is The Air Up There?
18. The Sunsets - I Want Love
19. The Bluestars - Social End Product
20. The D-Coys - Bad Times
21. Derek's Accent - Ain't Got No Feelin'
22. The Blue Beats - She's Coming Home
23. The Vince Maloney Sect - No Good Without You
24. Ray Columbus & The Art Collection - Kick Me
25. The Lost Souls - This Life Of Mine
26. The Black Diamonds - I Want, Need, Love You

Look in the comments. While yer doin' that leave one your own damn self!

Suishou No Fune - Where the Spirits Are

New-Noise-Terrorists-on-the-Block. Suishou no Fune was formed by Pirako Kurenai (whom I guess I should mention is a vagina-bearer? Nah...) and Kageo (both guitar/vocals) in Tokyo, 1999. They are interesting in that they seem to be influenced almost exclusively by their Nippon forebears. Thus, instead of the mutations of Western musics we've become accustomed to from Japanese combos, this is 100 % Haino/Denudes worship (yeah-- those bands were obviously inspired by US/UK psych, but I'm not in the mood to split hairs, fuckers. FYI: Ex-Denuder Yokai Takahashi has been a Fune member).

Apparently, all of their music is improvised, including lyrics-- which are supposedly based on ancient Japanese poetry. This is beatifically hypnotic music that seems to emerge from the abyss and disappear into it as well. There are no obvious intros/outros or conventional song structures of any kind. There's an intangible melancholy that permeates their sound-- perfectly suited to a lazy morning watching dust trickle through the sunbeams while in bed-- preferably with someone you love.

Here.

pw = sln2007

SICK THINGS - My Life's a Mess

You think yer a punk, punk? Want some of the real junk? Here's the gen-yew-wine article, Junior. More'n two chords? What are ya, a Proggy? This is the shit Mommy was scared ya might hear some day. Forget all about clinical "separation" of the guitar & bass-- crank 'em both up... and yes, their amps really did go to 11. The Sick Things, straight outta Melbourne, Australia were the kinda guys that woulda gladly drilled those holes fer Chuck Berry to indulge in his love for pee-pee.

Formed in 1979, it's amazing that four guys with the last name Sick (Dugald, Gary, Mick & Geoff) managed to find each other-- I mean what are the odds? I've never even met one. Come to think of it, I've never met anyone named Dugald, either. They called their battery of noise "Puke Wave", which is honest enough, though I think "Shitcore" would be every bit, if not more appropriate. And I mean that as the highest praise-- for example: check out what they managed to do with the Exploited's pointless piece of garbage, "Blown to Bits"-- didn't think you'd ever find that 'un listenable, didja?

For illustrative purposes, and becuz I'm sure an overwhelming majority of y'all have never heard a note by these monsters, I've got some samples for ya-- first, make sure those shitty little computer speakers of yours are at a "check the warranty" volume. Then, be dazzled by Thug-Punk classics like "I Like Pills", "Prime Minister" and the aforementioned Exploited cover:



Now look in the comments and get the other 12 Smokin' Slabs, Slim-- and while yer at it, leave some gawddamn feedback!

ROTTERS - Pull It & Yell

In all honesty, there was a time not all that long ago when I wouldn't have given a second-tier (or third or maybe even tenth) band like the Rotters the time of day. I remembered the "Sit on My Face Stevie Nicks" single being entertaining in a lowest common denominator-kinda way... NEXT! But as anyone over 35 knows, time is an evil motherfucker, and many an agonizing reappraisal will be made as muscle turns to flab.

Thus, when I read guitarist Phester Swollen's hilarious liner notes, and he states, "It was 1978, and rock & roll was the most putrefying heap of overblown bovine excrement imaginable," and I can easily equate that feeling with rockroll Circa 2007-- well, you might be able to see why I'd slap my noggin wonderin' what the hell my problem could be with the likes of the Rotters.

Mr. Swollen and bandmates Nigel Nitro (vox), Johnny Condom (drums) & bassist Rip Chord (all good X-ian names) like millions of others of the era, found salvation in the Sex Pistols. They met in a film class at Moonpark College, a few miles northwest of Los Angeles, and instead of boring us with shitty art-films featuring half-naked hippies holding crystals while reciting horrendous poetry, they picked up instruments they couldn't tune, let alone master.

I'm not gonna split hairs-- these guys were utterly influenced by the Pistols, right down to Nitro's faux-anglais accent, but fuck it--- at least they got punk right. No PC-isms ("Bomb the Whales, Buy Japanese Goods" anyone?), no "arty" aspirations, no bullshit. The fact that they managed to piss off dinosaurs (even then) like Fleetwood Mac is a mere bonus.

Link in comments.

ANDRE WILLIAMS - The Black Godfather

Here's the Original Gangsta himself, Andre Williams. After putting Detroit's Fortune label on the map in the 50's, working for Berry Gordy/Motown in the 60's and working as Edwin Starr's road manager in the 70's, the King Pimp found himself hooked on the pipe, down-n-out on the streets of New York City in the 80's/90's (not an unusual story for under-appreciated geniuses by any means). Luckily for Andre, not to mention US, huge fan George Paulus pulled him outta the gutter to cut the "Greasy" LP with equally under-lauded Pretty Things guitarist, Dick Taylor. Earning tons of praise from the underground, In The Red records approached him to record what turned out to be "Silky" with the help of ex-Gories, Mick Collins & Dan Kroha.

On this, his second release for the label, Williams is joined by a veritable Who's Who of Garage Punk Royalty: The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, Countdowns, Cheater Slicks (on an incredible romp through the the Cramps' "Can't Find My Mind"), Compulsive Gamblers and Mick Collins once again, this time with his Dirtbombs. Best of all, former Stooges saxman Steve Mackay steps outta mothballs to add some of his unmistakable skronk to "Freak Blues".

Link in comments-- which if you have the time to click 'n' read, you've probably got the time to leave a comment, right?

VARIOUS - CLE Magazine Comp: Big Wave

This one comes courtesy of Mars (again), a specialist in prime hootch and good pal of SLN. I haven't had a lotta time to digest it yet myself, but I can tell ya these are all bands from Cleveland, and any compilation that includes the Electric Eels is worth your attention.


(Sorry, all I could find was this GG Allin's penis-sized image)

Tracks:

1 Mad Daddy Intro
2 Pere Ubu - Heart Of Darkness
3 Mad Daddy Sings!
4 Mirrors - Another Nail In The Coffin
5 Cruel Cruel Moon - I Don't Believe
6 Andrew Klimeyk - European Economic Community
7 Andrew Klimeyk - Ariel Says
8 Cruel Cruel Moon - 1,000,000 Years
9 Gem - Figments
10 Vivians - One Eye
11 Mad Daddy Speaks
12 My Dad Is Dead - Second Thoughts
13 My Dad Is Dead - Nothing Special
14 Brainrot Radio Theater - Clockwerke Orangutan
15 Swank Motel - World Up My Ass
16 Mad Daddy - Zoomeratin'
17 Electric Eels - Flapping Jets
18 Gem - Blow Daddy-O
19 Vivians - Codex
20 Mad Daddy - The Joker

Link in comments.

Is Black Metal Confuse(d)?

PART I: Tangenting Myself Into a Coma

I remember very clearly arguing with all kindsa metal and punk folk about how black metal was gonna be the new punk rock. This wuz when the first wave of Norwegian church burnin', murderin', suicide committin' bands first rose to prominence in the early 90's. At the time, I wasn't comparin' 'em musically at all-- more along the lines of a similar DIY aesthetic and the inversion of the popular cultural values of the times. Punk preached anarchy in a conservative era; black metal, fascism, at a time when lefty PC-isms were at their height. In Europe, Mr. Vikernes was creating the same kind of mass hysteria that the Pistols did in their heyday (get a copy of "Lords of Chaos" if you don't know what I'm on about; it's a flawed but engrossing tome about BM).

Then, something funny happened: black metal started to sound like punk rock. Darkthrone in particular have fully embraced the kinda riffs/arrangements you'd associate more with Amebix than Burzum; skinheads are going to BM gigs... man, I guess I was right, but not in the way I was hoping I was. Shit, black metal got sucked into the mainstream even faster than punk, what, with Dummy Burger and Cradle of Shit paving the way for all kindsa careerists and opportunists. Again, like punk, BM got too open-minded for its own good. I'm not one of those "keep it tr00!!" fuckheads/purists, but when you start adding too many elements of other genres into the mix, you end up with something so far removed from the original intent, that the genre itself becomes redundant. I mean, what the fuck do flutes and Russian folk chants hafta do with metal??! It's much like when Gang of Four came along with their boring "angular", (pretentious rockcrit term alert! Danger! Danger!) funk-derived riffs that has provided us with yawn-inducing "art-punk" bands by the truckload.

Anyfuckingway, back to my statement in the last paragraph-- the BM-sounding-like-punk part. Listening to Ildjarn the other day, I was struck by the uncanny resemblance his early demos had with Japcore greats like Confuse. And, since I was looking for an excuse to once and for all hep those of you (probably 2 at most) why this blog is called "Spending Loud Night", I thought I might as well try to cram some chocolate in with the peanut butter. Now, do I honestly believe Ildjarn was a Confuse fan? Nah, probably not. After his departure from Thou Shalt Suffer (who would become Emperor), I think he simply wanted to make the most primitive, raw and "grim" music he possibly could down in his basement.

PART II: Using a Widget to (Poorly) Prove a Point

Luckily (or not) for y'all, I've got a soft spot for all these new-fangled gadgets any idiot (like me) can easily embed on his insignificant corner of cyberspace. I've been meaning to do this for a while, but since this is a resurrection of sorts, this is the first time the internet stage has felt right. Keep in mind this is an experimental kinda thing; not the type of post I'll be making on a regular basis. This way, you can tell me how wrong I am right away without having to wait until you've d/l'd both albums. I've chosen Ildjarn's "Mørklagt Sti" and Confuse's "Disaster" as I found 'em the most strikingly similar (the controls on this thing should be easy enough to master, I would think. You can also download each track if that be yer wont).




Let's get the album covers & specs outta the way:


ILDJARN - Det Frysende Nordariket
-Tracks 1 to 4 are taken from "Norse" 7" EP, recorded in March 1993.
-Tracks 5 to 11 are taken from "Ildjarn" demo, recorded in January 1993.
-Tracks 12 to 25 are taken from "Minnesjord" demo, recorded in February 1994.



CONFUSE - Discography (aka Confuse)

-Tracks 1 to 7 from "Nuclear Addicts" (1984).
-Tracks 8 to 11 from "Contempt Of The Authority, And Take Off The Lie" (1985)
-Tracks 12 to 15 from "Spending Loud Night" (1987)
-Tracks 16 to 19 from "Stupid Life" (1989)
-Tracks 20 to 23 from "Atrocious Madness" (Unreleased/Unofficial)

Notes: Tracks 8 to 11 recorded at Fuckigami Recording Studio, August 20th, 1985.
Previously released on Confuse Records.

Tracks 12 to 15 recorded at Mad Studio, August 20th, 1983. Produced and distributed by Kings World Records.
Previously released on Confuse Records.

Links in comments.

I Love the Sound of a Guitar Playin'

It seems I'm always trying to make like a Jehovah's Witness (or sumpin' else equally useless); Perpetually trying to convert y'all to underrated artists whose collective discogs are rarer than hen's teeth. Well... this post ain't gonna be any different.


EARLY WORKS: 1964-66 Feat. Fender IV & Sons of Adam

Born in 1945, Pennsylvanian Randy Holden had a vision for taking the guitar into unexplored vistas at an early age. After a brief stint playing covers locally, he formed the Fender IV, a surf-cum-British Invasion-inspired combo that became mainly a showcase for Holden's six-string pyrotechnics. After having his head turned Over, Under, Sideways Down by the then-godly Yardbirds, or more specifically, their Riff Master General, Jeff Beck, the IV/Holden made their way to the West Coast reborn as the Sons of Adam.

This collection compiles tracks from both of 'em in reverse chronological order (Whatcha expect? It's a Japanese import). The Sons were a band that, if you'd heard one of their ditties on a "Nuggets" or "Back From the Grave" comp, would have ya jacking off like an ape in a zoo cage to hear more. Look no further. Although essentially Yardbirds-lite, there's some fine snot-caked garage punk like the Holden-penned "I Told You Once Before" as well as more melodic moments like a killer run through the Zombies' "You Make Me Feel Good". The Fender IV, although steeped in stock surf arrangements, had a certain intangible darkness about their sound that puts 'em ahead of the many bands mining the same territory in the era. Especially delish is the lone vocal number, "You Better Tell Me Now", that throbs with an ultra-macho, barely concealed violence.

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THE OTHER HALF

Feeling restricted by the lack of ambition and over-reliance on cover material of Sons of Adam, Holden joined San Francisco's Other Half in late '66. Essentially a garage band that managed to dangle precariously close to the psuckedelic precipice, their sole LP is a charmer. They possessed in Jeff Nowlen a gifted vocalist whose Eric Burdon-as-filtered-through-Keith Relf bark added a sense of urgency to the underwritten, almost skeletal rave-ups. Although dismissed by critics & Holden himself as an inexperienced band not having a clue what they were doing, that's exactly what I love about it. It's the cliched runaway train that never quite derails, and I've added their 45-only classic, "Mr. Pharmacist" as a bonus.

Disillusioned by the aforementioned Nowlen taking liberties with the songwriting credits, Holden packed up his axe once again. He was briefly considered as a replacement for Jeff Beck in his beloved Yardbirds (ah... the possibilities!), but as we all know, a certain Mr. Page was waiting in the wings.

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POPULATION II

After a brief stint in Blue Cheer (he appeared on side two of "New! Improved!") which left him once again with little more than a pot to piss in, with that band's managerial and drug problems (he claims they rehearsed all of once during his tenure), he decided to strike out on his own to make the album he'd always wanted to make. Choosing acquaintance Chris Lockheed as his drummer, mainly because he insisted he could play drums and keyboards at the same time.

On his never-ending quest for infinite sustain, "Population II" was recorded in an opera house on 20 Sunn amps wired in parallel! If the word monolithic didn't exist, we'd hafta invent it to describe the Himalayan riffage to be found here. Put it this way: If Hendrix was "choppin' down mountains with the edge of hand", Randy's guitar was snickerin' at such a feat as it glowered down menacingly at the cowering peasants amongst the rubble it was soon about to permanently deafen. Holden once remarked that whilst flailing away during the sessions for this album, he was knocked to the ground when he'd hit a certain harmonic overtone. That's exactly what'll happen to you if it's your first experience with "Population II".

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