May 28, 2007

Sudden Infant Death Syndrome - self-titled 7" (Rob's House 2007)

If ever there was a scan that didn't do a cover justice... Well, anyhow, I'll give you the gooey graphic design details in a bit.
SIDS belong to my home of Mylanta, GA, and generally destroy. The review my roommate & swami of herbal essence gave holds up on wax, too. Hell, he was windmilling shirtless down Oakdale last I saw. And if you can't play wax, it comes with a skull-stamped CD-r with all the same trimmings. Aw, but then you'll miss out on lockgrooves that make Holy Molar look like the A-Set! Actually, that's not a stretch. How about Drago Miette:Alva Noto?
I won't divulge the secret of spinning the final cut. I trust you to handle the needle like the magnifying glass of sound it be.
Oh MFA student ejaculate in 5,4,3...
Clear red vinyl comes in a die-cut sleeve with two inserts: one a red-frosted vellum, the second good ol white. Don't just leave 'em in there! Take 'em out and play with 'em! Jesus, what is with you today?
Get cashy and dip to S-S Records or ask someone with blue-black hair.


May 24, 2007


Hey! My record-store buddy Erin is in a band called Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. They're fantastic. My roommate--who only listens to W.A.S.P., Kiss, and Kaki King--said seeing them was like being on a carousel made of sawblades. I told him I thought it was more like jock jams for vampires. Or Primitive Calculators and Screamers taking over San Diego in 1997. He told me I was being obtuse.
Any at rate, SIDS have a soon-to-be-gone 7" on Rob's House and are about to deafen people in several different cities starting June 3rd. Check out their page on the Myspace for DEEP specificity.

Xenis Emputae Travelling Band - Gamaaea (cass Beyond Repair 2007)

Good reader, bear this in mind: I've spent several days listening to the first Metal Church, Robert Wyatt's take on "At Last I Am Free" and the Colours Out of Time's "Rock Section." When this rectangle of woodsy wooskies appeared on my radar a few days back, I feared it would be a dollybrook to my gummy aesthetics. I may as well have sat in my room on Klonopin staring at a shoe for 4 days and then decided to walk to Baltimore.
But in the end, this was easy-peasy, green n breezy. Yorkshirite Phil Legard--he's the one squeezing the melodeon like a roll of Bounty--is this generation's Incredible String Band walk-in, rescuing their legacy of influence from the cliff of self-parody. Or some shit. What I'm getting at in a drunk driving test kind of way is this is as authentic and self-motivated as it gets. He even knows what to do with his voice! Tell that to the Cloudland Canyons and Black to Comms of the Earth. "Descending Form" and "Sing Holy Song" showcase just how well harmonium and human pipes get down, even outside the world of guys in brown cloaks and mysterious Azns.
And get this: not only is the man adept at making music that sounds like the sun rising on a morning after a bonfire, he's also an entrepreneur! His well-nutured Larkfall Records is a mule I can get behind and you oughta do the same. Lovely to look at, too. Makes my eyes gooey.
The bottom line is, anyone who can cut records with pennywhistles and not bring to mind puffy shirts is straight-up fridge-worthy.
Limited to 50 measly copies, which can be got from Beyond Repair and that's all. A XETB CD-r is available at Fusetron, too, if you're looking something you mightcould get.


Edwige - Play the Game Or Leave the Bed 7" (Release the Bats 2007)

"Dude, this is sick! They totally turn on their pedals and then just like lean on them as hard as poss--"

Sorry. I fell asleep in the middle of my own shtick. Somehow related to the Rita--mostly in that it sounds exactly like them. And everything else, for that matter.


Grails - Burning Off Impurites (Temporary Residence, 2007)

This is like if Epcot were co-opted by guys with limited edition Dunks and Guru Guru records. At one point it Mickey Hart shows up.


May 16, 2007

Cracked Actor - Nazi School 7" 1981 WORKRATE REPORT!

goofus &&&


-The cover, of course. It's a thing of carved notebook dreams. I'd kill for it stuck to the back of a slightly-burnt denim jacket. Dropout metal-level FUCKING FANTASTIC.

-I swear if Over the Edge had come out just 2 years later this would've been the theme song. I'm not holding my breath, but an Alex Cox-helmed remake would be on point. Shit, get the Glaxo Babies back together to play disenchanted history profs. So, on these very personal terms, I had to love this.

-The marching snare overdubs in the first 5 seconds are brilliant, especially since they're louder than the whole affair. I kept thinking I put on that S.O.B. flexi. No grief for their skills, neither. I do have a question, though: is the Cracked Actor of Messthetics 7? How could it be? This one's Last Words-style Oi and the other sucked the teet of the Deleted Records mare. Then again, who knows? Some things never survived the jump from '79 (nein!) to '8Oh.

-Sweet merciful blokes, the fidelity is kinda mint! Where's the bass? Who cares? I'm ready to glass my whole village! Who's first in queue? The Business could take a few production pointers, even in these pitch-corrected days.


-Okay, I'm going to make an admittedly obvious judgment: this is a little silly, in much the ways of "Animal World" by the aforementioned Last Words. They're probably missing their own joke, which may or may not amuse you. Walking the line of Nazi-sympathy and Nazi-derision is not as powerful these days. Remember those Locust arm-bands? I think folks were more up-in-arms about the be-merched coke mirrors.
Oi lyrics are in a race for subtlety with "Louie Louie" (and no one's put a toe on the track yet), so I suppose the whole mess is moot.


-"Judy In Disguise" is boots, despite being produced like "Sailin' On." Kinda drags the whole affair into territories of unrequited dopiness, leaving us with Side Fun and Side Snooze. Oh wait, that's the Furze split with Velvet Caccoon tba 2017.


May 13, 2007

CJA - Bottled Smoke Series Vol 1 CD-r Digitalis Industries 2007 WORKRATE REPORT!



-I back subscription series 100-percent. How much do you miss singles clubs? The day you forget you signed up, you get a little gift in the mail; like a cable coming in from above. Never fails, I'll tell you what. Any label that sets up one of these --Unheard Music/Atavistic, Rough Trade, Vinyl-On-Demand (?), Southern Lord (although I've heard horror stories about them), and now Digitalis Industries--has my respect. I mean, if you know you're gonna make it rain for whatever releases are coming out on said label, why not secure a spot? And this means something from me, because those of you with a copy of the 1st issue of My Hair Is Growing know the shit I've talked on Digitalis Industries. And I hold tight to the position that a lot of it is boring. But I can't deny this is a great idea.

-The frequencies on "Hidden" replicate the feeling of looking at red-green contrast and then shaking it, which is kind of incredible. Don't drink and then put this on. Plus it basically sounds like British Electric Foundation filtered through the Birchville lens, so why not give it a smooch?

-It's not too long. This is really valuable to me lately, especially if I don't fall in love & want to move in with it.


-There's a buffet of half-baked, here. Sometimes they play along with Flying Canyon intros, sometimes with the Space Needle, but mostly with the carb.

-They don't really do anything memorable--bad or otherwise.
They can't best their limited chops either. Granted, the CJA folk diss the whole ball in the liners, but that don't mean a lick. Most folk are wont to diss their own shit because it comes across as less self-agrandizing, even though it's actually doubly agrandizing because it's passive aggressive. It's like a confidence scam. You're made to think you're noshing humble pies, not gold-leaf streudel.
Trouble is, this is humble in a boring way, like that uncle that never has anything to say but is always first to offer to do the dishes or set the table. You know, big sweaters, funny eyes? Does something for a living that is so convoluted its probably a front for a bootleg sunglasses factory? Nothing to mark out for.

-If you take your new Ibanez out of the wrapper, plug it in and walk out of the room, I think these chords just start playing. Check the manual.

-There's a Dead C cover. It sounds like when your roommate fucks in the shower at 3am when you're hung over and have to be at work by 6.

If you could choose between faux-nuts and faux-dumb, which would you take?


Brain Band - Self-Titled cass Fuck It Tapes 2007 WORKRATE REPORT!



-Two sides, 40 minutes. Definitely the perfect length.

-Fidelity doesn't subtract anything. I got a hunch this sounds like the Xpressway-sponsored Harry Pussy toga party it is wherever you stand.

-No matter how disingenuous they probably are (I mean, what music being made by people my age with guitars isn't disingenuous at this point?) I really dig the loutish rumbling German bits. I get all giddy imagining a roomful of sweaty guys in vests falling over drunk. No wonder I like Black Oak Arkansas! NATAS NATAS NATAS NATAS NATAS NATAS

-Their influences are not so much worn as carried like banners. Ultimately, they sound like a whole bunch of shit that is already going on--which I also already know is boring--but released in an even more limited edition. Oh good.

-Will someone please lead a revolution away from the symmetrical post-Dada multimedia assemblage cover art movement? I will buy you ice cream.


May 4, 2007

Pip Proud & Alastair Galbraith - Hey Gus (7" Emperor Jones 1998)

Can't find a scan to save my shirt, so you'll have to go without. Pip Proud cannot occupy a world that has any kind of Internet. When his generator's broken, he runs the tape recorder off his car battery. I'm just guessing here, but something tells me when you drive by his shack at night, you can see the light from inside coming through the slats.
I'm going to get right to the point because I don't want to drench this in any more of my tired verbal jizz. This seven-inch is ACE. I'm so happy to drop 4 bucks on a 7" no one cares about that turns out to be the most beautiful thing I've heard lately. I'm bypassing the musical recipe because 4 seconds into this you will forget what other music sounds like. Pip Proud delivers the meaningless life-lesson talks that other old folk love to spout, but his tone is telling. He's not buying it, either, chief. And that's the ultimate lesson: you're not listening, you're living. You're living because one day it will all be dusty bits. The only stories left to tell will be one's from your days as a wee like "Hey Gus, is God really made of love?" told with the exhaustion of a life overscrutinized.
You want this because it does not belong on the Internet. As a matter of fact, I posted this 4 times before it worked. Wasn't Pip in Brother's Keeper?

May 2, 2007

A GLOBBOT AT MY TABLE - Peter Gutteridge - Pure (cass Xpressway 1989)

Man, even the cover is bonkers-good. It's like a long-lost issue of SPIN! Gutteridge, as you might expect from a man all up in Xpressway, was in the Clean and the Great Unwashed, and went on to do many a great and equally unwashed thing including producing a flock of Snapper singles. Gutteridge is arguably the better Peter of the NZ scene, although Jefferies is a titan of the faded green sounds.
What's got me most dumbfoibled about this here tape is how un-precious it is. I mean, "Planet Phrom" is adorable, but never becomes the recently opened Barbie gown it would be in the hands of Those Who Aren't Afraid of You and Will Beat Your Ass. "Sand" and "Exhibition 2" really could be a lost Ike Yard/Joe Meek collab. "Suicide" is Soothing Sounds for Alan Vega 1-6 Months. In short, this is 21 kinds of dope. You will put this in your car at 1am and take it out when you crash at 4:16. Pardon my newbieness to the naissance of the be-leathered Kiwi drone-psych scene, but this is all fantastically new and exciting to me. The whole ball of wax is continually uprooting my tits, what with the Nocturnal Projections and Lions & Tigers (no, but for reeeaal!) and Sneaky Feelings and all. I have only begun to hype, so I'll go get pizza and look at a lake instead.
Being that this is as long-gone as it gets, I have uploaded it for your enjoyment. I'm not about to deny y'all something for free that has such deeply DIY roots. You have 7 days to hit it, and a lifetime to quit it. Not like you ever will:
You want this and thusly I'm giving it to you.

May 1, 2007

THE SOUND OF POP-UPS - Christmas Decorations - Communal Rust (CD, Community Library 2007)

At night, after my roommate's turned out his light, the cat's been fed & has curled up on the arm of the pull-out couch, I usually sit in my armchair, finish what's left of the drink in my hand and think for about 5 hours about what I want to listen to. Get up, throw something on, change my mind, repeat. What usually ends up going on and staying on is either Blues Control (especially if that drink is number 3 or 4) or whatever I'm reviewing that week. I figure it's the newest and most uncertain music in the house and, being that I'm probably loaded, I will be more inclined to enjoy it. I want to enjoy all of it, I really and truly do, but sometimes I need to be primed first. Gin is an excellent primer, as well as that Dogfish 90-Minute IPA.
Christmas Decorations was heard stone-cold sober in my parents basement on a Tuesday morning, after I crashed there the night before doing my laundry. So I was probably in the least eager state of mind to review it. I came away with some specific impressions, but I can't say how slighted they were by my frame of mind. Unaffected, yes. But by no means cheery. Keep this in mind when I say I don't like this record.
This could've been on, say, Artificial Intelligence 2--that is, if this were 1992 and Christmas Decorations shared members with the Black Dog. As it stands, it's not and they don't, but I couldn't shake the idea. It also could be on Mego in 1998 or whatever year that dumb Endless Summer disc came out where Fennesz measured the perimeter of his 5000 sq ft loft or some shit. It's got this really tired clicky sound that is supposed to modulate the sounds, but really it just sounds like a laptop to me. I'm fine with music made with computers, but it's got to sound like more than just computers. This doesn't do that. The clickiness felt like a little kid looking over my shoulder while I read, breathing through his nose really loudly. The rest of the music is whatever I was reading, which I don't much remember because all I can think about is exhaled carbon dioxide moving over whistling and whirring bits of snot. I think some of it might've been cool, but I might be confusing it with the Black Dog again or Asa Chang or something.
I may just be cranky, but you probably don't want this. Hang on, I'll give it another chance.


LAFMS KMFDM, Vodka Soap - Parallel Vision, the Appearance Of A Motion Released By Simultaneous Hallucinations (cass, Nature Tape Limb 2007)

Spencer Clark is Vodka Soap. This here release shares a home with Sunroof! and the Skaters, though he's been on New Age Cassettes, Wabana Ore Limited (sheesh!), and 23 Productions. I think this Parallel Vision affair might've been on CD-r last year, but who knows. Info is so scant, I feel like I'm looking at a last-known-photo. Shit, that's even what it sounds like! This thing writes itself!
What you get here is a c-45 of slovenly ghost music, with hints of that Boyd Rice character, Dennis Duck, and Tom Recchion. You know, a carnival recorded from a drainpipe. Kinda amorphous with little tape hiccups to mark a change of idea--which is not without its charm. I tell you what, they conjure some serious spectres, almost as frightening as the aftermath of my tofu vindaloo from last Saturday. You could hold a raffle at your next town fair to see who can guess the instruments. Keys? Gits? A swim meet? I'll take 5. Who's got a 5? Reminiscent of the Composition of the Melted Cheese thing I talked up before.