No Speed or Glue

SHINKI CHEN - Shinki Chen & His Friends

(Since so many of youse pulled yer puds to this post)

An orgy of fuzz and pretty much every other form of excess (musical and otherwise) ya wanna reel off, Shinki Chen's 1971 solo LP is a cherished artifact among brain-damaged low life everywhere. Backed up by his short-lived blues outfit, Power House, "Friends" is little more than a monument to Chen's beyond wasted guitar pyrotechnics-- and whatever adjective exceeds "beyond"-- wasted psyche. Beginning with cymbals and who-knows-what-the-fuck-else (most likely 50 reasons why you should be stoned before you proceed any further) on a backwards loop augmented by some ivory-tinklin', you are then treated to 40 minutes of heavily-phased vocals (so much so that you'll feel like you've been underwater for nearly three-quarters of an hour), charmingly inept drumming and the sweet tonality of Chen's beatifically sustained, singing licks. The undoubted masterpiece is "Farewell to Hypocrites," 13 minutes of unhinged riffing that somehow manages to soar despite some monotone-- in fact, kinda robotic-- backing, courtesy of "His Friends," who occasionally drag things down to a Procol Plod. Luckily, Thee Shink's inventive string-bendin' is always there to save the day.

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KURO - Discography (1983-86)

Kuro delivered a primordial thrash cocktail laced with a penchant for violence-- usually on their audience (that's what those screams you hear in the background are). Of course, they bear the hallmarks of all great J-pcore -- the formless, white noise as guitar riff aesthetic is here in abundance, as is the broken washing machine drums and deranged vox-- in fact, some of their early work borders on generic, albeit in a good way. However, when they later began to adopt a mid-tempo, metallized attack-- complete with pronounced, chugging basslines and nimble, saturated in high-end guitar work, my ears prick up. This is when the bizarro world of Japanese "interpretation" comes into play-- the art of taking an inspiration (in this case, Lemmy & Co.), placing it in the Xerox that is their minds and spitting out an entity that is familiar, but not exactly recognizable. So, whatcha get is the majority of their oeuvre: Their first (unnamed) flexi, the "Fire" 7-inch, compilation appearances and a five-minute "gig" from 1983. Proof that being influenced by Motörhead can never be a bad thing.

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