tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76981584764252014292024-02-02T00:29:52.225-05:00F**k You, Counselor.SH*TS & GIGGLES CLEARINGHOUSE HAS CHANGED LOCATIONSAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.comBlogger150125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-80823020635596069192013-01-23T11:23:00.004-05:002013-01-23T11:23:50.934-05:00NEW HOME<a href="http://buffetofloathsome.blogspot.com/">http://buffetofloathsome.blogspot.com</a><br />
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I will be writin' under my real name, so don't go gettin spooked when you notice Wren Reath done stayed put!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-7480591763101699112012-12-17T23:49:00.002-05:002012-12-17T23:49:36.586-05:002012 SWEEPOVER<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Tis the season to cover yer keisters, meesters, & judgin' by my compatriots' sleighfuls of slayers, I'm hangin' at least half a rump. So here's one I <i>know</i> I gotta sneak in before the year's over, plus the rest of my favorites from 2012. I'll see y'all in tax season!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbbDfbtH-aSxfX6gzzccHGhsOwdrQWTg4HVhwqksOVHGntlkDWyinxD0ahvObMK9m_lKJhgG_i19tCHRkYeuufCPM7udSxFzK4EHcUc4BQGhgKs8bqIF4hO_v_gVBu9oHo-VcHuOBtNF0/s1600/Moon-Mountain-cvr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbbDfbtH-aSxfX6gzzccHGhsOwdrQWTg4HVhwqksOVHGntlkDWyinxD0ahvObMK9m_lKJhgG_i19tCHRkYeuufCPM7udSxFzK4EHcUc4BQGhgKs8bqIF4hO_v_gVBu9oHo-VcHuOBtNF0/s200/Moon-Mountain-cvr.jpg" width="131" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Letha Rodman Melchior/Tretetam</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Moon Mountain</i> cassette</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="http://robertandleopold.com/" target="_blank">Robert & Leopold</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">ed. of 75</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The most artistically productive household in the country (there should be a golden statue for <i>that</i>) has produced another lil marvel. When one also ponders alla that productivity comin' out of some seriously rough times, well, it's all the more impressive. Letha's past output under her Tretetam bonnet has made the Finns happy (though I've yet to set ossicles on any of 'em), & who can argue with a country that produced Circle of Ouroborus, Kemialliset Ystävät, & a folk record of people impersonating bears? This is a good deal more contemplative than that-there list, though. Much like Letha's paper collages (one of which is the cover to this tape; others have appeared on Dan Melchior's releases), there is a play with nature at work here; a repurposing of familiar aural elements (room tone, distant TV dialogue, birds, rambling nature) with clarinet & keys that makes everybody feel like a kissin' cousin. To further confound & impress, Letha gathers wool from Satie, Appalachia and Yiddish folk songs (and not just cuz there's a clarinet; I ain't so lazy)! I also detect a dialogue with the tape format, as much of this seems to shiver out of the speakers like breath breaking in winter air, which suits the hum and hiss of my tape deck just fine. It's warm & brisk; tentative but not anxious; sprawling & focused. & it's gettin' more use in this house than my pocket knife. Sold! Bring it home, nuzzle it between Idea Fire Company's <i>Island of Taste </i>& the second half of Caethua's <i>The Long Afternoon of Earth</i>, & watch that sucker grow.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Might still be a few left, but this started out as half-a-handful, so you best beat cheeks.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">While yer at it, donate to the fund <a href="http://melchiorfund.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">here</a>! It should <i>always</i> be the season.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">LPs</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Lower Plenty - <i>Hard Rubbish</i> (Special Award/Easter Bilby)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Dan Melchior - <i>Excerpts & Halfspeeds</i> (Kye)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Helm - <i>Impossible Symmetry</i> (Pan)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Fabulous Diamonds - <i>Commercial Music</i> (Chapter Music) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">EPs</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Mordecai - <i>Waste</i> 7" (Wäntage)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Call Back the Giants - <i>Incidents of Travel</i> 12" (White Denim)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Trash Company - <i>Having Fun</i> 12" (Peoples Potential Unlimited) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Circle of Ouroborus - <i>Mullan Tuoksu</i>/<i>Pehmeät Kasvot</i>/<i>Sisään Katsovat Seppelesilmät</i> cassette trilogy (Kuunpalvelus)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Re-ish/Archival/Comps:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">X-Wave - <i>Cities on Flame</i> LP (Little Big Chief)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Kenneth Higney - <i>Attic Demonstration</i> LP (One Kind Gift) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Personal Space: Electronic Soul 1974-1984</i> 2xLP (Numero/Chocolate Ind.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Coitus Int. - <i>Dead Excitement</i> 7" (Bunkerpop)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Shadow Ring - <i>Remains Unchanged</i> 2xLP (Kye)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Woo - <i>It's Cosy Inside</i> LP (Yoga/Drag City)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Tav Falco & The Panther Burns - <i>She's the One to Blame</i> 7" (Mighty Mouth Music)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Drywater - <i>Backbone of the Nation</i> LP/7" (Time-Lag)</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-18812640330818668812012-12-08T22:39:00.002-05:002012-12-08T22:41:33.903-05:00SLUICED JOHN B<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHhyeenQVLnIp4V72EdU4TW4aUhgBLFuRI9pe3cgZvtclu9zMCqqzmMbgNOeaJrJaIE3_rO3YZFBMzdRbSwwowUYg42D2k6ivemjWN0Jv_0ytPt5OY-1iThwIBgoAKe9Ea4VZqsw8M1Qs/s1600/wd20big.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHhyeenQVLnIp4V72EdU4TW4aUhgBLFuRI9pe3cgZvtclu9zMCqqzmMbgNOeaJrJaIE3_rO3YZFBMzdRbSwwowUYg42D2k6ivemjWN0Jv_0ytPt5OY-1iThwIBgoAKe9Ea4VZqsw8M1Qs/s200/wd20big.jpg" width="199" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Call Back the Giants</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>Incidents of Travel</i> 12" EP</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.whitedenim.com/index.html" target="_blank">White Denim</a> #20</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">ltd ed of 324 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Happy as larry to finally be covering Call Back the Giants here, & this is a solid start. Absent is Tim Goss's compatriot Chloe Mutter, as are the verse-chorus intimations of previous releases. (Makes sense, as these are newly-minted songs; much of the Kye output was complied from earlier recordings.) In their stead are haunted, sweat-soaked debriefings that sound as though they were recited from the ballast of a wayward ship. There are bits of rhythm about, too, as in the hurried, ticking shuffle in the last half of "On the Fourth Day," which coulda cropped up on an ol' Craig Leon LP. The compositions, except the classicly CBtG "Snatch Bats," seem a bit roomier, every section/movement segueing purposefully, and w/o compromising the humor or the anxiety. Also of note are touches that I can only call vaguely Teutonic; a bit of Eno in Berlin here ("Fever Dream/The Hunt,"), flashes of <i>Irrlicht</i> over there ("Four Hundred Boys"). I'm also reminded of newer-model Coil, sans binge drinking. But really what keeps Goss from gettin' pegged any which way (minimal synth, drone, etc.) is how little anything feels automated. Despite the piles of tech, never does one's awareness of the human at the helm, the <i>touch</i> of keys & the <i>turning</i> of knobs, abate. Errybody's got a rhythm all their own; Scott Foust nailed that about the Shadow Ring crew long ago. (I promise that's the only time I'll bring them up!) Goss ain't quite in front of, on top of, or behind the beat. Time & pitch drift. Sounds move like bodies. Surrendering delicacy to the gear is the stuff of an <a href="http://library.nothingness.org/articles/SI/en/display/8" target="_blank">Asger Jorn migraine</a>. So here's a big "phew" that all is well, though slightly menacing, in Goss's household galaxy. A whole litany of today's players oughta plop down with a steno in front of their 'table & get <i>learned</i>--like, yesterday, cuz we both know his releases dip out early. If'n you sleep, sweat not; there's a full-length slated for 2013 on Kye called <i>The Marianne.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Get sorted over at <a href="http://www.whitedenim.com/wd20.html" target="_blank">White Denim</a>, a label that continues to dole out plenty pause. There's a sample up, too. </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-46982367924289182162012-12-06T00:44:00.001-05:002012-12-06T00:47:40.221-05:00CAN I BUM ONE?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigJttlmRIO4WkaVyXt6A4FmPpU0xXUu5VfZAzyPcHR0BzFQfe2zInpSlWDQbwGYyOpsyG26jAP3NjivGqjRruAqeElD2sU-GAQPj-iQfR2200mOzywxxlCB-2eQ01dZcZwZVYo8Vlqt5M/s1600/COVER-hotels.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigJttlmRIO4WkaVyXt6A4FmPpU0xXUu5VfZAzyPcHR0BzFQfe2zInpSlWDQbwGYyOpsyG26jAP3NjivGqjRruAqeElD2sU-GAQPj-iQfR2200mOzywxxlCB-2eQ01dZcZwZVYo8Vlqt5M/s200/COVER-hotels.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The Hotels</span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Girl-Crazy</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">self-released CD/<a href="http://thehotelsmeltface.bandcamp.com/" target="_blank">download</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2012</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm a recluse in this town, wadded up in a tornado of mess-making in a dank corner, straight-drippin' caustic home-brewed venom. And it's about 86% my fault. I done up and torched almost all the bridges that run to my little island for all kindsa unmemorable reasons. But every once in a while, I do something right.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know the folks behind this music. And rather than plop down a delineation of the classic strain of power-pop they deal in (see Cheap Trick, <i>Yellow Pills: Prefill</i>, etc.), I have decided to make a public appeal. It be addressed to whatever major labels still bobbin' in the wake of iTunes et al. <i> </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>You want these folks. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>They will make good things happen for you.</i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There are three minutes and thirty-something seconds of widespread air-time out there that either aren't being used at all, or are gettin' scarfed up by some candy bandit. Unfortunately, you will have to find a way around their application of the word "fucking," I reckon--though, Clear Channel squishes bugs with Benjamins, so maybe they can make an exception. (Said use is so apropos, for the record, it's like the word just got invented this morning.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Even if y'all execs find everything on this record to be gravy in which the practically-perfect radio single "Summer Sux" floats, you will not regret a second. And I and this foursome of solid humans will thank you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Seriously, though, you got a cigarette you can spare? </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-42803782538693656232012-12-06T00:18:00.000-05:002012-12-06T00:21:40.646-05:00SLOW WRITHE (TAKE IT EZ): 45s on 33<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">No, this ain't no repost, just me dippin' back into my title kitty. That piece on Southern Comfort done got me thinkin' bout how much time I spend, huddled in the dark, droppin pitch on singles. It ain't always an improvement, but it seldom disappoints. The process also reminds one of a principle difference between vinyl and all other audio formats: <i>you can</i> <i>fux wit it.</i> Where's the fun in a format on which ya cain't leave fingerprints?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Here's to showin' your singles you's goin' steady. Let's begin with a fistful from <a href="http://ppu.bigcartel.com/" target="_blank">Peoples Potential Unlimited</a>.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia68_brPV4VQp6vH39zFUY59Dnm2GhHltvuxsJ9Hrp6Mw2CZfbJuyAxTFaZmNt3Q9w5n7u4qCbTYMbt_jvzPZYYxlVoS1pupZm4-1uFdDVQWLwK3lb4QfDEIBrqA-IoxLW7DMmIKt-BI0/s1600/PPU037A.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia68_brPV4VQp6vH39zFUY59Dnm2GhHltvuxsJ9Hrp6Mw2CZfbJuyAxTFaZmNt3Q9w5n7u4qCbTYMbt_jvzPZYYxlVoS1pupZm4-1uFdDVQWLwK3lb4QfDEIBrqA-IoxLW7DMmIKt-BI0/s200/PPU037A.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The Campfire</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The Heat of Your Love b/w Truely [sic] Love 45</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Peoples Potential Unlimited PPU-037</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Let the drinks kick in, tip the speakers out the window, and pour one out for good sense gone by. At 33rpm, this 400ft-long Cadillac 80s G-funk synth boogie belches more fog than a Hammer horror film. Head dude of this Illinois act circa '85, Raynard Mayfield Sr., can go on about the heat of her love all he wants; the multitracked rumbles of "YOU GOT IT" beckon like fingers of cartoon stench. A solidly eerie and erroneously erogenous A side. "Truely [sic] Love," on the other hand, gets the carnival spins like back to back ferris wheel rides and a half lb. of fried dough with <i>extra</i> sauce. I'm talkin' nausea's answering machine message, your brain phonin' up to see which way is "down," while yer ass is already on its way. It's an ol' question, but it bears repeating: Who needs drugs?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQg1axQ3gAK7aPCUmKwz_y0emsh4lRFYo5Oxgs2haDmLm001WGFCPHPBqwFoLuJe7oG4YylKs-FhEfu_kdukiPBdycpPsOUU-wL1GDBYPMgTG70MUdvTgM4aXiA-zfje269llYe2i-58/s1600/ppu026j.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQg1axQ3gAK7aPCUmKwz_y0emsh4lRFYo5Oxgs2haDmLm001WGFCPHPBqwFoLuJe7oG4YylKs-FhEfu_kdukiPBdycpPsOUU-wL1GDBYPMgTG70MUdvTgM4aXiA-zfje269llYe2i-58/s200/ppu026j.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Shelve (Shelby Hurns)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This World (Vocal) b/w This World (Dub) 45</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">PPU-026</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Anybody named Shelby who expects the whole world to pronounce "Shelve" as "Shell-Vee" and further understand that it's meant to be an amusing (?) play on his given name is clearly workin' with a set of wrenches we all musta mislaid. Ol Shelve <i>do</i> cut a sharp figure </span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">on the back of the sleeve </span>in his rented tux and lipstick red cummerbund. But those eyes don't convey the silk sheets and rose petals of 80s R&B or the quick-n-dirty salvation of gospel. </span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It's a listless, aloof gaze. </span>However ajar be the limo door, </span>he's puttin' out dangerous loner vibes here. "This world/is not my home," goes the hook, riding the James Bond melody (no joke), Shelve's voice stuck mid-throat. Maybe he's testifyin' 'bout some theme park in the clouds, or maybe just pining to be back in his home studio. I ain't so sure I wanna ride shotgun; think I'll just call it a night.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlFrvK0ySmZKbJR1I_IKIsFpCl-5TLptKBCTPFn5EedJgfpcwq8Zyx3RN-49hKgqccfhqPxqCyWA4ru_ooL5YzOiXXPMKOxU_f_wB2CLKBREJR_6TJJpcgvHBtZH7h9-NBfHHtgzP0HlM/s1600/rr004-cover.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlFrvK0ySmZKbJR1I_IKIsFpCl-5TLptKBCTPFn5EedJgfpcwq8Zyx3RN-49hKgqccfhqPxqCyWA4ru_ooL5YzOiXXPMKOxU_f_wB2CLKBREJR_6TJJpcgvHBtZH7h9-NBfHHtgzP0HlM/s200/rr004-cover.JPG" width="200" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Tim Tucker & Freddie Fonk</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Love Passed Me By b/w Captured 45</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">RysQue' Records RR-004, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">300 copies (1st 50 w/ insert pictured)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Tucker and Fonk were part of a budget-funk group called Davinity at some point, and that is where my wispy tracking skills stop the trail cold. Maybe you could do better?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Experientially, there ain't a major difference between Tucker's "Love Passed Me By," at 45 and 33, exceptin' maybe that 33 sets the Nintendo brain-virus florishes in higher relief. A lotta this stuff owes hefty Parliament/Funkadelic back rent, but I detect herein something of a Grandmaster Flash bail-out. No complaints there!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Fonk's side at 33 could comfortably slide into one of the amorphous Not Not Fun subsidiary hagiographic warped-VHS-coveting side projects (clear as dirt?), were it not for its <i>legit</i> weirdness. Ever stumble across those early 90s Mexican-American ninja-cyborg hybrid flicks? Somewhere buried in the 2nd act is always some kind of unctuous sex scene wrapped in mosquito netting and cheap lace, and this is exactly the tone and texture of the music I imagine is playing (until I lean on the FF like it's a hassock). Not an easy pedigree to slam dunk, but there it be, staring back at ya from 7 gleaming inches of vinyl.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-66391302178587018932012-11-28T00:21:00.000-05:002012-11-28T00:21:17.263-05:00SCREEN SHAVERS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8YssS-P3SuKHCw7X6ErFphPvEM0htNC53Sx4Sbwo1S82dCszheZZfoPu1O-Fz1zh9Xtsc_YPimJkLxduZDBOk4Zdr6JSPptb1m3qrs9oUt0tcvUNZOM0kaOuC32YwCm6kng5uLBPbR9I/s1600/moonbtest00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8YssS-P3SuKHCw7X6ErFphPvEM0htNC53Sx4Sbwo1S82dCszheZZfoPu1O-Fz1zh9Xtsc_YPimJkLxduZDBOk4Zdr6JSPptb1m3qrs9oUt0tcvUNZOM0kaOuC32YwCm6kng5uLBPbR9I/s200/moonbtest00.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Moon B<br />
Promo/Test Pressing 12"<br />
<a href="http://ppu.bigcartel.com/" target="_blank">PPU</a> No Cat #<br />
<br />
Advanced, white label copies of this ATL native's full-length debut following a nice private cassette (that's still available over at <a href="http://earcave.mybisi.com/product/ivy-iii-rare-80s-synth-funk-boogie-cassette-tape-1" target="_blank">Earcave</a>). Dis puppy, on the other hand, musta vanished while this review was in draft mode! They call it boogie, apparently, but to these ears this likewise mines mid-80s Ryuichi Sakamoto OSTs and early 90s "armchair" electronic (doesn't that land with half the lead of a term like IDM?) comps like <i>Artificial Intelligence</i> with spare sticks of dynamite in both back pockets. Whodathunk a smattering like that would work? I'd call it "armchair boogie" but that other looney beat me to it. Ambient boogie? I'll get back to ya. No idea on any titles, but that ain't a pressin' concern. Everything muddles a bit what with the short equipment checklist and wounded production, and there is the foreboding sense that at any moment the whole mess'll start vogue-ing next time the cowbell key is struck, but it holds strong and leans on the weird. And that's really the hallmark of it's era: all the jeri-curl eye-roll and crooked sunglasses of the imagined era it evokes (where Bernie Worrell, <i>Wings of Honneamise</i>, and The Black Dog spoon on a sticky dancefloor) have been smudged into tape fuzz amnesia. A lil calculated? Mightcould see it that way. But, more importantly, it kinda <i>slays</i>. Does Dan Lopatin need a touring partner? I sense a shared polygon window on the world.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-15103785926210020402012-11-21T10:37:00.004-05:002012-11-21T10:37:33.182-05:00TOPLESS AMBITION<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV3C7aJviYD417maMEjBFbAIxWjHLpiSIEG3zTgBVEdCQsDGQIw5DmUbnZgUoNOLA6QoljSB2oesclt3v8Xf3hnXNWIlcst5hiBX6HZGgKmWgL5Z9gLKudL1_ZUBn_D9QpcaZE7YRB8y4/s1600/Picture_2.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV3C7aJviYD417maMEjBFbAIxWjHLpiSIEG3zTgBVEdCQsDGQIw5DmUbnZgUoNOLA6QoljSB2oesclt3v8Xf3hnXNWIlcst5hiBX6HZGgKmWgL5Z9gLKudL1_ZUBn_D9QpcaZE7YRB8y4/s200/Picture_2.png" width="195" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">V.A.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Personal Space: Electronic Soul 1974-1984</i> DBL LP/Clear DBL LP/CD</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Chocolate Industries/Numero 2012</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We’re a good 10 months into this pressing ‘n all, but I’ve
only withheld because I been in such a solo-donnybrook ‘bout how to address its
majesty but <i>proper</i>. But then, as is usually the case ‘round here, I just
tossed all the crumpled typing rags over one shoulder and went at it raw. What
we got here might seem to some self-explanatory—maybe even obvious. To the rest
of us (down here on Earth) this came as a total, wonderful surprise. I don’t
wanna shortchange the history of soul music, but I had no idea they got down
with Ike Yard and the early Chrome so hard! As much as the 70s and 80s are
bloated with improbable methodological alliances (intentional or not); and even
when one considers the proliferation of budget electronics and home studio
gear; and the private press boom, whodathunk such a wealth lay under such huge
shoulder pads?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Personal Space</i> is really the gateway into this
ultra-neurotic, twitchy, cockeyed subset of soul records and the PPU label
(Peoples Potential Unlimited) a fleshier, meatier expansion thereof. (Imagery!
Imagery! <i>–Ed.</i>) I say “ultra-neurotic” cuz, let’s face it: soul is really
just shorthand for anxiety, insecurity, paranoia, and depression. Some of these
cuts are for the dance floor (Jerry Green’s “I Finally Found the Love I Need,”
or Starship Commander Woo Woo), but most are cold lampin’ inside a tangle of Brown
Recluse spiderweb smoke (Spontaneous Overthrow, The New Year, Jeff Phelps). There
were moments on the first couple spins where I’d think Timmy Thomas had picked
up Factrix as a backing band. No kiddin’! But to wrap the whole package in the
shells of minds and a bunch of stylistic shockery around a heart bumpin’ with
anything other than solid songs would make this a sham. Don’t you worry;
deliver they do. I suggest appending Guitar Red’s <i>Hard Times</i> to your
session; his cut, “Disco from a Space Show”, is a scant peep down into his
strobe-drunk basement galaxy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I’m finna tackle a stackle of recent PPU releases nextly!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-39893875823813682502012-11-16T21:25:00.002-05:002012-11-16T21:25:32.317-05:00SLOW WRITHE<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_2oDAmsDKPhAghKBT7ct9901ghStVjLDbXqiNm-Z09g7JlgEJybduiAw4zzBOBEh-6yOPtOCxvzx2CuLpl1tsJD0_6N0mPG5t2zhtENxCv-bMZyhPrn3vzTLoQc14TnfJqzVcqpfCs4M/s1600/8181166588_5b2ef80bce_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_2oDAmsDKPhAghKBT7ct9901ghStVjLDbXqiNm-Z09g7JlgEJybduiAw4zzBOBEh-6yOPtOCxvzx2CuLpl1tsJD0_6N0mPG5t2zhtENxCv-bMZyhPrn3vzTLoQc14TnfJqzVcqpfCs4M/s1600/8181166588_5b2ef80bce_m.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Southern Comfort</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Silver and Gold b/w Don't Cry No Tears 7"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Black Petal #43</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Nice loud, downer strum from Angie and Harriet of Circle Pit and Ratsak respectively. Recording really sells the A side, setting the mics and amps quavering from heat stroke. The harmonies ain't quite jagged enough for me to feel this is much past prettiness, but I'll take a Neil Young cover from this pair, no questions asked. As someone I respect once said about gloating over other folk's miseries, "It doesn't always work, but it never completely fails," to please me. The old croaker's work needs, if not a swift kick in the keister, at least a firm goose now and again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that, however loverly the above rhetoric might sound, this 45 is positively <i>frightful</i> on 33. Heard a few stray shots outside my window the other night and decided the healthiest response would be to double up on my cold meds and drop the speed on this single. If glaciers shit drugs, this (at the wrong speed) would be their expulsive moan. The echo, the lead-handed downstrokes, and suggestive throb melt in a magically unnerving way--and that ain't just the decongestant talkin'!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Limited to two hundred fifty-something copies, available in the US thru <a href="http://ineedinsulation.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Easter Bilby</a>.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-27321239197018947272012-11-12T13:41:00.000-05:002012-11-12T13:41:08.596-05:00EXHAUST-DJINN: A PAIR FROM ANTI-FADE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Wgs4DphTCcQJU2iik4VFXrSv3m5kxfr6cGhQWNwwQHWO6AW5oVn06qGMHYH6bDJw0lNsnLd1ZlIEn3yDWdraDOqf_9U_i3QDZ_o1QnPzybzZZVqbpAEcJ_BdsqQM8L9Zx5RL7Q_hyphenhyphen1U/s1600/R-3924219-1349398600-8696.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Wgs4DphTCcQJU2iik4VFXrSv3m5kxfr6cGhQWNwwQHWO6AW5oVn06qGMHYH6bDJw0lNsnLd1ZlIEn3yDWdraDOqf_9U_i3QDZ_o1QnPzybzZZVqbpAEcJ_BdsqQM8L9Zx5RL7Q_hyphenhyphen1U/s200/R-3924219-1349398600-8696.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Useless Eaters</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">New Program b/w Expensive Taste & Smoke Alarm 45rpm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Anti-Fade ANTI-011</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Bout the closest I ever get to garage is when I need help diggin' a spike outta my left front tire. Always thought there was somethin'...underachiever about it; for those <i>about to maybe</i> rock, ya know? But I reckon that's what folks find so galldern American about it: desperate, entrepreneurial shots at convincin' some local, maybe regional, and perhaps national, tail to shimmy. Just a little. It's that very attitude that makes it so suspect to me; I say, go XXXL or go sit a spell. Anyhoot & holler, perusin' the Anti-Fade back catalog gave me the spins, so I called up ol' Bertrand Russell for advice. Bein' a loud skeptic of garage rock himself, I figgered he'd know the score. "In studying [a garage rock label], the right attitude is neither reverence nor contempt, but first a kind of hypothetical sympathy, until it is possible to know what it feels like to believe in [its releases], and only then a revival of the critical attitude, which should resemble, as far as possible, the state of mind of a person abandoning opinions which he hitherto held. Contempt," ol Betrand warned, "interferes with the first part of the process, and reverence with the second." Whatever you say, chief; I'll give it the ol' college. Maybe there's some new tricks a-turnin'?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Useless Eaters is helmed by one Seth Sutton outta Nashville, Tenn. A Nashville one-man garage band on a Victoria, AU label? Why not. Hell, he's already put out about 5 other records this year alone, and 9 others since turn of the decade; ain't many spots on this circuit he ain't shot through. A-side cut is either an indictment or winking endorsement of corporate drudgery in the guise of an android march. Another "why not" herein is Sutton's application of positively classic Athens GA moves. I detect the liver-spotted claw of Peter Buck on "Smoke Alarm," though it be fed through some homegrown Johnny Marr effects. In fact, this is near the Blank Dogs cult philosophy of tryin' to apply cheapie-creepie goth tactics to mopey drug punk. It's still a fair bit better--but just about anythin' is an improvement to that late model! But keepin' ol' Bertrand on the dome, I didn't mind the half dozen flips I gave it one bit. And I ain't about to jeer the folks that find the fun in this one second more.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Five hunnid hand-numbered.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwlcKyy5m7kZBPKpelwok3T3efzau1Sqx7K_FboKYQY6peNR9V6dk5dtVd2LZPqacBFXK_AMyQbobCOMvpmxcDm7pmrsJEc2Ty_HJDkfVH2ILeX4GfgEpLlHmQHPiuaZl9sS3FVQ622pc/s1600/ant008_mid_main.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwlcKyy5m7kZBPKpelwok3T3efzau1Sqx7K_FboKYQY6peNR9V6dk5dtVd2LZPqacBFXK_AMyQbobCOMvpmxcDm7pmrsJEc2Ty_HJDkfVH2ILeX4GfgEpLlHmQHPiuaZl9sS3FVQ622pc/s200/ant008_mid_main.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The Bonniwells</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Yesterdaisy 7" EP 33rpm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Anti-Fade ANT-008</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">What a pwecious wittle wecord. From the knitty-witty packaging to the Victorian cats & mice in eternal pursuit on the labels (wabels?), I was expecting either a So Cow offshoot or something light, feathery, with a sturdy inheritance. Which is to say, I was prepared to gag. But actually, this trio bears more marks from early K Records, the Vaselines and the Marine Girls than what I'd call garage rock. Maybe the rug on this whole genre done got yanked from under me, but these sunlit melodies, mid-tempos, and titles like "Pigeon Pizza" gimme those twee goosepimples. Some kids somewhere in Melbourne are dancin' their couch cushions to pieces and the sophomore in me kinda wants to join in. If it wasn't for my trick knee and all...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">300 pressed on colored vinyl. Mine looks like rain-soaked pavement with a chewed gum smear. What you got?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Once again, <a href="http://ineedinsulation.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Easter Bilby</a> is yer Huckleberry fer these. He's up on social medias, too, if'n you wanna go there.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-64627509675627801262012-11-11T20:53:00.001-05:002012-11-11T20:53:04.550-05:00ANTI-CLEANSE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk6zlTpVOHtY4jblhSH-mijuB3YOu_Kc0Ku73AvM0x7LYTXKRdgST-9AXPaZHnyGi31NjME6XyckSw7mlVkhqDKJ6epht8XIFOsld7dOxWCdYjzlw9xLpX7m7NJxQHQacKdA2ONwm1qh4/s1600/R-3962848-1350675263-4238.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk6zlTpVOHtY4jblhSH-mijuB3YOu_Kc0Ku73AvM0x7LYTXKRdgST-9AXPaZHnyGi31NjME6XyckSw7mlVkhqDKJ6epht8XIFOsld7dOxWCdYjzlw9xLpX7m7NJxQHQacKdA2ONwm1qh4/s200/R-3962848-1350675263-4238.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Degreaser</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>Sweaty Hands</i> LP</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Negative Guest List NGL-040</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A band named after my favorite cleaning product puts out a another solid record on my favorite Australian scum label; tis a hard day at the office! This, Degreaser's follow-up to 2011's quaking <i>Bottom Feeder</i>, continues main duder Tim Evans's well-illustrated commitment to the hungover-and-cranky corners of punk weirdness (see also his take on Pop Group dynamics in Bird Blobs and the mope-grind of Sea Scouts). Scoff if ya must at the Birthday Party apeage howlin' around these parts (i.e. Brooklyn) of late, but these folks don't fanny about like some. Though guitars rasp, throats moan and bellow, and the rhythm section clamps like a 1000-year-old die-cutter, as they have elsewhere and many a time before, it ain't always <i>what</i> ya do but <i>how </i>ya do. Feel me? Right from the jump on "Lizard," these lead-sinkers reach stoner-metal depths of heave-n-wheeze with nary a second to call out the fathoms. The focus remains a desperate thud on the deck of a listing boat, even through what I take to be a cover of "Eyes Without A Face" (?) on the flip. (No titles on this one; just guessin' from the Discogs entry.) Never do they leave the confines of their grem-clotted alley, but the hypnotism this lot casts was enough to keep me glued down. Nice!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Head next door to <a href="http://ineedinsulation.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Easter Bilby</a> for your domestic hook-up.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-208365116059954302012-11-10T01:12:00.004-05:002012-11-10T01:15:37.782-05:00DON'T LET THE SUN SET ON MARBLEHEAD<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvO2zfscTTMkCbbcvef4LFKNRr9KH8wAAQv6rNmTbQtixDMEdVDAEc1hFSa3mr3lHa6HnGMlvk2lEWll0HneVmk-9Gj_yQTpdwKJ4U4wv238Fl1IS0jrFqAhoBT-wCMkULU2zMZIa36Do/s1600/large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvO2zfscTTMkCbbcvef4LFKNRr9KH8wAAQv6rNmTbQtixDMEdVDAEc1hFSa3mr3lHa6HnGMlvk2lEWll0HneVmk-9Gj_yQTpdwKJ4U4wv238Fl1IS0jrFqAhoBT-wCMkULU2zMZIa36Do/s200/large.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Mad Music, Inc.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>Mad Music, Inc.</i> LP Reissue (originally released in 1977)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Drag City/Yoga Records</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Was a time when I'd sooner peel the phrase "healing music" off the back of a sleeve than take it home, but I ain't fixin' to let age gimme bad knees and nothing else. These days, I give in; direct as many needs to the "check out" stack as possible. And when I'm fortunate, I get a few sorted simultaneous. Such is the case with Mad Music Inc.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Back in the foggy decade, when errybody it seemed was trying to cram 12 steps into one weekend, or forfeiting all their earthlies to be-whiskered rug-squatters somewhere upstate, an unidentified junta of Boston players (barneys, perhaps?) assembled Mad Music sans credits, track titles, or any other signifiers save a designation of "music for meditation" and released it like a coddled sparrow into the wild--to, as ya mighta grok'd, a lotta silence. Of course, the packaging, what included clippings, illustrations of<i> </i>a man with a beta-max player in his right temple and the like, probly didn't help close the ensuing mystery.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">What actually lyeth within ain't quite so puzzlin'. Basically, a cache of 4:30-or-less bites of spiritual jazz (especially reminiscent to these ears of Alice Coltrane's <i>Eternity</i>), "love theme" strings straight outta after school specials, and eerie winds. Not a whole lot else to get yer hands around. I fo' sho' found myself sneakin' a Z here and there, but that's all right by me. The whole notion of sittin' still, brain-pan ajar, for something other than <i>Calhoun County 49th Level Vampire Ex-Lesbian Task Force</i> on VH1 seems like a lost art in this country.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But as much as I like a little polemic in my puddin', I'll spare ya any further diatribes. On the whole, the desired effect of the actual music has perhaps diminished in the ensuing decades, but the mysterious coterie at the heart of the project has some serious endurance. And bein' that we live in the vinyl-as-conversation-piece epoch, this'll surely moves some serious units for Drag City. Me? I think I'll be fine, if I can just figure out how to synthesize tryptophan in my bathtub...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Pony up <a href="http://www.dragcity.com/products/mad-music" target="_blank">hurr</a>, if ya wanna.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">NEXT UP: A boatload of transmissions from Easter Bilby's Aussie stash!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-8617576117015053222012-10-18T00:12:00.002-05:002012-10-18T00:12:55.297-05:00DOODLEPLEX<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg73nDha59w2kU3bZyL8d1R64TUkuYFawnV1blwgoSv1T9GXOBl9GtznaCfsvhJlK0fHKXYBmsIFQLhhqaumpw5atKbSYCFP5oX9TUdYAW7ERoYRIYe4tJRM_5vsIxau1LHh2-2Pqdf9ls/s1600/large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg73nDha59w2kU3bZyL8d1R64TUkuYFawnV1blwgoSv1T9GXOBl9GtznaCfsvhJlK0fHKXYBmsIFQLhhqaumpw5atKbSYCFP5oX9TUdYAW7ERoYRIYe4tJRM_5vsIxau1LHh2-2Pqdf9ls/s200/large.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Woo</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>It’s Cosy Inside</i> LP Reissue</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.dragcity.com/products/its-cosy-inside" target="_blank">Drag City/Yoga Records</a> October 2012</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I try to get errythin I can outta my listenin times, not
just the grumpy rumbles and obtuse toilings strewn about the FYC hood. And
while many of us folks writin on these assorted auteurs and amateurs might see “skill”
or “training” as somewhat suspect, ain’t no need to ghettoize. After all, it
ain’t the tools, it’s the carpenter what makes the shed stand.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The Ives brothers behind this longstanding Woo outfit are
plenty adept at their wide array of instrumental plunder. They’s chops is
visible from their debut missive, <i>Whichever Way You Are Going, You Are Going
Wrong</i>, through their early 1990s output; and in the humbles they did in the
post-punk pen (see <a href="http://www.discogs.com/artist/Five+Or+Six" target="_blank">Five Or Six</a>). Their ’89 effort, <i>It’s Cosy
Inside</i>, is perhaps their best and here gets the nudge into <a href="http://www.ikea.com/PIAimages/0092714_PE229437_S3.JPG" target="_blank">Expedits</a>
everywhere it done truly earned. Thru 17 interwoven tracks, Woo chart hectares
of previously unglimpsed zones, quietly and carefully, wearing big goofy grins.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Surely when I drop the term “new age,” many of y’all cue up
a Steve Roach feetie-pajama sleepover breathing exercise and quickly open a new
tab in your browser. Well, friends, it ain’t any more dirty a word than “ambient”.
And when was the last time you dug out “experimental” and gained an inch? At
least “new age” can sound either cultish and menacing or gauzy and nap-inducing
depending how groggy you is. To put a point on this polemic, <i>It’s Cosy
Inside </i>is about as close to prescience in these days of rebuilt analog
drones and star wipes as you’re likely to find in late-80s English music. Exceptin’
a lot of the kittens batting the “spacey” and “blissed-out” yarn-wad nowadays think
irony means everything’s for sale (or everything’s terrible), and Woo took it
in the literal and classical sense. The same moodiness ZNR used to cast
perverse shadows over Satie on their LP <i>Barricade 3</i> here likewise plays
with Kraftwerk, Harmonia and Cluster. Matta fact, if’n you dropped a caper like,
“Woo was really an unearthed Anglo link betwixt the Kraut and NDW eras,” you’d
give me buku pause. For now, it’s just a thought.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I know you ain’t yet ready to believe something so weirdly playful
like this could pluck a string in this mule-piss-pumpin’ heart o’ mine, but you
will. You’ll run into a copy of it at your local record hole, or maybe the Nite
Jewel split 7”* <i></i>released in conjunction with this impeccable re-ish, drop
the loot and take ‘er home. About 10 minutes in, you’ll put down the pipe, and
notice how truly weird beauty can be.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">* featuring a track from a rare Woo cassette </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-47209290357588104932012-10-08T13:49:00.002-05:002012-10-08T13:49:18.217-05:00KETCH AS KETCH CAN<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8u-jNUBphJjIb3q-T-AOcXujf7NqKTJYhCqLjkTPzAi1iZXA3moqCSS5EpH6M3UUOC6aVsmtItHd9hNfYZUlZEoICO_opred_VuIgTsbkelfLlOPS5ztEwPeeTW42Cn6SmHOzfrhwR50/s1600/eastlink.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8u-jNUBphJjIb3q-T-AOcXujf7NqKTJYhCqLjkTPzAi1iZXA3moqCSS5EpH6M3UUOC6aVsmtItHd9hNfYZUlZEoICO_opred_VuIgTsbkelfLlOPS5ztEwPeeTW42Cn6SmHOzfrhwR50/s200/eastlink.png" width="133" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">East Link</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>S/T</i> cassette</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Little Big Chief/Creep Dreams 2012</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Imma admit straight-up, something about this tape caught me with my ass out. After 3 plays (that's 6 flips!) through in a row, I <i>still</i> felt I didn't know my onions enough to say or think anythang illuminatin'. Got all tangled up in tags & the strings there attached: surf, noise, psych, and on and on.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Why expose the business of this mishigas? Only to demo how dumb I am. Here I was, down on all 4s, scrutinizing a crushed Bud Light in the middle of Burgess Shale--which is to say, "This thing ROCKS." I find myself spewin such verbiage so infrequently, what with my piles of buck bin chud to munch through, it takes me a minute to pick out such anvil-sized tasting notes. Sad, really, but no discredit to East Link. Composed of Aussie fringe elements from the likes of UV Race, Total Control, Lakes, Straightjacket Nation and a handfulla others, they here set sail* in their own creaking schooner to crush shrimps and dislodge coral errywhere. Speakin' on "reefs," (<i>ha, I think?</i> --Ed.) these hominids pound the pebbles with an abject twang (made possible by short delays and heavy face-to-face amp screeds) that just 'bout turned my speakers into sheet pasta. Track 2, "Ansett Australia" is at <i>least</i> as obnoxious as the Crucifucks (<i>emphasis on "noxious"</i> --Ed.), without sounding a bit like em, though it do contain a slew of notebook-carved rhyming couplets and that gloriously brutal economy. Side Bummer stretches out the thudding to great effect, in an era when that's usually a bad idea. It also features a manic whistling section which really oughta happen in this green world with greater frequency. Is that man or Memorex? Don't ya just love havin' to ask? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There's rumors of a hefty surf vibe up in here, but I can detect little resembling <i>The Innermost Limits of Pure Fun</i>....oh, you meant <i>that</i> kinda surf! You wanna tag this as the gory followup to Earle and Holcombe's work in <i>Horror of Party Beach</i>, you go ahead. There is certainly sumpthin to be said for the efficiency of the whole thing; the compartmentalizing of total wilderness, which you definitely get with the concussed wing of surf music. But hey, I just wrote somewhat kindly things about an LP on a smooth jazz label. What the fuck do I know? When faced with a sodium cocktail such as this, ain't much for me to do but glug it down.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A small sum stands like a hard-gainer between ye and them. I say, go! <a href="http://littlebigchief.bigcartel.com/product/eastlink-s-t-cassette">Amurricans</a> go here, others go <a href="http://creepdreams.tumblr.com/">here</a>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Sure did talk to you. Here's "Wild Dog," featuring that glorious whistling treatment:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/FJoBRYGD2yM" width="560"></iframe><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">*This is <a href="http://creepdreams.tumblr.com/">Creep Dreams</a> maiden voyage, too, as well as LBC's first foray into the People's Format. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-87081243451773424622012-10-06T23:26:00.003-05:002012-10-06T23:26:18.798-05:00$10 HOLLER #5: STEPHEN WHYNOTT<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Lu6eWf0R9gSCMdhnAMUFURSj3y164tfElliUBahm6eBsKnC07vCtH3KfguINSNiAaTVGjVJqo5zeLdnK1UCUQ3PR0bC5ImN2mZbf0KSvRfgifQa29a9Hg4FGfPQh-qu7-mhdq2mvfHo/s1600/whynott.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Lu6eWf0R9gSCMdhnAMUFURSj3y164tfElliUBahm6eBsKnC07vCtH3KfguINSNiAaTVGjVJqo5zeLdnK1UCUQ3PR0bC5ImN2mZbf0KSvRfgifQa29a9Hg4FGfPQh-qu7-mhdq2mvfHo/s200/whynott.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Stephen Whynott</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>From Philly to Tablas </i>LP</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Music is Medicine MIM 9001 (1977)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Copies of this can pop serious squats on the wallet, but be not discouraged: I nabbed mine for a 5-er. I'd be foolin' if'n I told ya you was gonna get mad plays offa the whole thing. You might have to do some scanning, but herein lyeth some truly lonesome spaces. Whynott caters largely in spooked but ultimately breezy cafe folk strolls with stoned and/or psych-ed brushwork. There's some winsome whimsy to be swallowed as well ("Oh Boy I've Won the Contest At Last"), and I'm afraid the good stuff isn't at the bottom of the glass. Typically, things fizzle before they pop on those numbers. But here and there he skirts gamelan (the opening passage of "Nine Day Sunflower") and, on the particularly puzzling "Snows Edge," even blunders into Perhacs county! Never does it advance as far as, say, John Palmer's <i>Shorelines</i> or anything by Bobby Brown, but I weren't just imagining the fellow feeling. They's all on facin' pages in the same unfathomable book that be 1970s small press folk.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Music Is Medicine (stone lost child label of First American) eventually made good on the sucky promises that peek over the yacht club event horizon of this LP, releasing things that square firmly with the "smooth jazz" tag. But ah the early days...! I guess.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Case you need a further push toward the shores of white male monomania, here's a solid nudge. As if it don't already take an eon to load this blog! (Note it is the only Whynott track up on the Tubes of Your):</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/KbfrunBn8xA" width="420"></iframe></span><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-54927336342050302652012-09-24T11:31:00.000-05:002012-09-24T11:31:07.119-05:00GUAIFENESIN BLUES (AND GREENS)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsIv6Ui00rY5X_VwNcLd8hjmAtYm964ruh0729NxMk7yGaHXs48Zz37yZO-DP22nm8JONHb1LUgnXwJHDJrTDsQe1WAK7DHtk9_6gp9TppSU6qkeJvmSGIF7-pYFjkxCP0EBKO900SqEc/s1600/mountain+cult.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsIv6Ui00rY5X_VwNcLd8hjmAtYm964ruh0729NxMk7yGaHXs48Zz37yZO-DP22nm8JONHb1LUgnXwJHDJrTDsQe1WAK7DHtk9_6gp9TppSU6qkeJvmSGIF7-pYFjkxCP0EBKO900SqEc/s200/mountain+cult.jpg" width="191" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="st">Mountain Cult</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="st">s/t LP</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="st">Little Big Chief Records 2012</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="st">I wait for the next cleansing flush of expectorants to turn my bean into a cider spigot. From the opposing side of my cramped front room booms the hungry clamber of a band from Brooklyn whose name does not cause snickers to jerk the faces of the smart marks. Hey, if you can't get "Location, Location, Location" right, ain't there always good ol "Timing"? It mightcould be the mucus talking or the room ringing and throbbing like an old TV, but this music makes perfect sense to me. A touch of heavy blues, a crash course in <i>Dope Guns and Fucking in the Streets</i>, and a healthy rinse from a Tori Kudo neti pot* will get you far in these tryin' times. Hell, in any time! "Overachiever" <i>alone</i> shoved 80+ blues/noise wannabe messes into my "maybe" pile, and it's all the way on Side 2! No idea what is being sung/said since there's so much tranquilized vocal fry (in my family we call it "talkin' up yer sleeve"), but I ain't worried none. Even the extendo-jam "Videodrome" what closes out this mug is so soaked in fever sweats, you won't need that electrified clay wall after all. </span><span class="st"><span class="st">What was I sayin' about Brooklyn? Ah, who cares. These scuzzbags can hail from wherever they like. Now, pass the NyQuil; I got work to do. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="st">Kudos to Little Big Chief for pressin' this creepster on 45rpm; I need the exercise. (Though, like most good things, it is even better at the wrong speed.)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="st"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Knock 3 times <a href="http://littlebigchief.bigcartel.com/product/mountain-cult-s-t-lp-lbcr-004">here</a> and give a listen <a href="http://mountaincult.bandcamp.com/">here</a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span class="st"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">* He really do make these! 'Course, now that I say so, I won't be able to find that one distro that was hockin' em for 35 a go...</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-74856009310077402182012-09-17T22:28:00.000-05:002012-09-21T13:29:20.196-05:00OUR MUTTER THE MOUNTAIN<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHCMSTZF8uOe7UqlRA4yyYRJtbnilUQ7wu0BnA1fNnFX_jTrdlP0EEOf_UyViOdXG0OWa7xcoS7AK7cRM_B5iHx5eBGVFYxjK38mJ21xZ4VclnQmL2P20JItwdSJ_ZvGcMoeZrwyQCCEs/s1600/FJ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHCMSTZF8uOe7UqlRA4yyYRJtbnilUQ7wu0BnA1fNnFX_jTrdlP0EEOf_UyViOdXG0OWa7xcoS7AK7cRM_B5iHx5eBGVFYxjK38mJ21xZ4VclnQmL2P20JItwdSJ_ZvGcMoeZrwyQCCEs/s200/FJ.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">F.J. Macmahon</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>Spirit of the Golden Juice</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Circadian Press reissue 2012 (original: 1969)<i> </i></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Wasn't I just talkin' bout this up in here?! Think it was when I was really talking on the Lower Plenty LP. (note: <i>Hard Rubbish</i> gets better every go-round.)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Unbeknowst to most (and me) it seems, Circadian Press brought this rare bit of quaffage back into the fold after a sizzurp-length minute. Won't be a long run neither, and these are prob'ly slipping into home shelving units all over right. RIGHT NOW.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I suppose it's worth askin whether you're really hurtin' for another vurp from the ever-churning guts of private psych-folk reissue campaigns. This is a bit differn't, ya feel me? F.J. done did but one long player and made every second of it drip with one-take clambers and hungry chances. Don't expect another Higney herein, but an inauspicious swab of Van Zant-style country and Leonard Cohen would get ya nearer. Circadian says it stands beside Neil and Kristofferson, but this is too alienated to be that jovial. And the picture just gets fuzzier from there, I'm afraid. Just rest assured it's as awkward, heartbusted, and American as one could hope--and that pretty much sells itself in my county.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Holla at yer <a href="http://circadian-press.com/f-j-mcmahon-spirit-of-the-golden-juice/">boys</a>!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/nESfAOA_qqE" width="420"></iframe> </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-46177238476939854602012-08-18T17:15:00.003-05:002012-08-18T17:15:44.698-05:00COUPLA OLD SOLES<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifq6PbFx68NsfGigq5AVgMeMT1xhO_kJVkc5vNQeIUTdjpQXX1QKEe1e4zlcCj7YI6IeMw7J8UT0OeZRtB5ueEFo-yB2GhGbfrM_AS124SNr0VWJ9MhUZnKDQGuL6H5MiVzuCcN3ObsjM/s1600/mordecai_waste_mid_main.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifq6PbFx68NsfGigq5AVgMeMT1xhO_kJVkc5vNQeIUTdjpQXX1QKEe1e4zlcCj7YI6IeMw7J8UT0OeZRtB5ueEFo-yB2GhGbfrM_AS124SNr0VWJ9MhUZnKDQGuL6H5MiVzuCcN3ObsjM/s200/mordecai_waste_mid_main.jpg" width="199" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Mordecai</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Waste 7" ed of 220</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Wantage Records Aug 2012</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Let's out with the excuses first, so's I can get back to what I does: apartment shuffle, fridge disaster, faulty wiring, 4am circumcision, cat stuck in beard, temporary lack of internet. Only one is real, but I'll let you pick it out.</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Now then.</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
What itchy, pimply, perma-belching noise would a pair of math majors from Albini's home state, weened on the Dead and the Stooges and sired by an AbEx painter produce? A galldern good'n! But that shouldn't be much of a cold, clammy slap to them that peeped Mordecai's debut (now available for free peepage in full on they bandcamp doodad). Therein promises were made, and herein they are overnighted.</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Despite the suspicious date stamp on this missive, I aint' been sleepin' on this, just <i>beside</i> it. Granted, it be fitful snatches of snooze, but well worth it after a full eve throwin buckets of shade on my landlord's voicemail. "Waste" busts n oozes like a cold sore I picked up off the floor of a bar one time, then lets loose with a lost Columbus OH riff on heinous painkillers only to toss itself out a first floor window and into the compost 2 minutes later. A killer start whose inner puss floods with each successive needle drop. It's Cleveland, Christchurch, London & Melbourne all at once without a shred of study or even a map. Just a long, damp basement fermentation, mean as Honey Bun wine from a juvie toilet. Hell, it even works on 33, which is high praise where I stay. "Drag Down" starts like such a beater, I thought Mike Pagan was finna show up with a gas can & a wrench. But under the hood revs an anxious lil engine that'll get you to & from in a Missoula minute. It also boasts my favorite guitar defrags of the year so far.</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Sure, you could just tool on over to the aforementioned <a href="http://mordecai1.bandcamp.com/">bandcamp</a> and get the goods for the price of a dented Steel Reserve, OR you could be a decent human and holler at Midheaven, Wantage, or Little Big Chief for actual sound. </div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Sure did talk to ya.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-4452442794518904912012-07-12T21:58:00.003-05:002012-07-12T21:58:45.239-05:00$10 HOLLER #s 3 & 4: BACK IN THE HABIT<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOigLiYxjwSEE1q7428RU0J-9Sotpx-f-E1noaBRXcbq2tNIP-BtbFXwx2I_O10GcWry834y_iOYpFH6_RnkVWWTW-N-6vSluhhlAI4KN_b18DMsWklxFVcNg94ilBH3JgAr7-_VQ61rE/s1600/51UcP0lwYuL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOigLiYxjwSEE1q7428RU0J-9Sotpx-f-E1noaBRXcbq2tNIP-BtbFXwx2I_O10GcWry834y_iOYpFH6_RnkVWWTW-N-6vSluhhlAI4KN_b18DMsWklxFVcNg94ilBH3JgAr7-_VQ61rE/s200/51UcP0lwYuL.jpg" width="198" /></a></div>
<i>Songs of the Humpback Whale</i><br />
Gatefold LP<br />
1970<br />
<br />
Wait! Wait! Don't run away yet! I haven't finally popped a lotus squat and gone bonkers. This ain't the Raffi-helmed kindergarten snooze parade it seems like. If nothing else<br />
a) you could probably cop three perfectly serviceable copies of this for ten bills (Xmas in July?); <br />
b) the recording is beautiful and so's the fancy, vaguely Greenpeace, though well-researched booklet;<br />
c) if the thought of listening to this with any seriousness is laughable, just change the pitch or crank it up to 45 and it'll sound like a Kaoru Abe show with Lee Perry at the board.<br />
After all, what's the point of cheap records if you they ain't makin you bust a hearty grin? The original is on CRM and can fetch mad bones, but the Capitol reissue is just as tidy and way more plentiful. Me, I got lucky on a CRM copy for $5 in a shop where the staff is far more innarested in snarling at each other and keepin up on Daredevil compendiums than peepin eBays. (Yes, those places are still to be found in the wild; just keep your voice down about it, ok?)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeej1-9gWG3vQtnAvKrTYlzevGNXZOgSpM4XLZBudsDo25C6d6ji-QpgB0QGEyvLZQpNCP5_X6BslwjnAakk7CU7XvoViGmVSLQJYnJC-LS_gO8FlEsT007EngaMpUazZ5wKxJVb4FF2A/s1600/4668bd927fbc1_26865n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeej1-9gWG3vQtnAvKrTYlzevGNXZOgSpM4XLZBudsDo25C6d6ji-QpgB0QGEyvLZQpNCP5_X6BslwjnAakk7CU7XvoViGmVSLQJYnJC-LS_gO8FlEsT007EngaMpUazZ5wKxJVb4FF2A/s200/4668bd927fbc1_26865n.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<i>Train Your Bird to Talk</i><br />
LP and Brochure<br />
Pet Records <br />
1976<br />
<br />
I dunno: I guess I was on a 70s animal record tear that day. (Also nabbed one about wolves just to give my neighbor's mutts another reason to snarl at the walls.) This does not feature examples of loquacious parakeets or erudite budgies like I'd been hoping, but what it wound up being was even more valuable: an instant room clearer. Hell, the first time I dropped the needle, I booked in seconds flat! The unidentified language coach intones single words and phrases like "Hello" or "See You Later" for literally MINUTES at a time, in total monotone with a rhythm that bobs and jerks like a dazed boxer. How could <i>any</i> beast or bird glean a fucking <i>thing</i> from this without first wondering where its owner keeps his .38? Were I an innocent lorikeet left alone with this bizarro Laurie Anderson nightmare, I'd learn how to say, "Shut this shit off, you fascist fucksock," but <i>quick.</i><br />
<br />
Pure brutality. Weaponized vinyl. Not to be wielded gently.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-41322175499087855742012-07-07T22:45:00.000-05:002012-07-07T22:46:06.503-05:00THEY LIVE (I SLEEP)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZUFSNfl0mSjbp3a2rL2MimIxx_jU4Ou4Wje6x_y18_NqF-XMSOsd-e-qKq0S4a4bIQB7ItbtJxd8n3mgrIcnWNp1vKktEWWEiMD5rH0-1H4Y0p5Lcujf4W7E_UTM5PBv5NPEuUaEjyW4/s1600/men.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZUFSNfl0mSjbp3a2rL2MimIxx_jU4Ou4Wje6x_y18_NqF-XMSOsd-e-qKq0S4a4bIQB7ItbtJxd8n3mgrIcnWNp1vKktEWWEiMD5rH0-1H4Y0p5Lcujf4W7E_UTM5PBv5NPEuUaEjyW4/s320/men.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span class="st">The<i></i> Men, Liverhearts, Vincas, Wymyns Prysyn, Widowspeak</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span class="st">@529 East Atlanta</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span class="st">July 3rd</span></div>
<span class="st"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Lead paragraph delineates author’s conflicted relationship
with live performances—specifically an overwhelming confusion regarding the
reasonable expectations-payoff ratio. Author notes running an experiment for
the duration of the evening in question: no cigarettes smoked nor alcohol
consumed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Second paragraph describes the crowd in somewhat elitist
terms, really, with a few smiles and encounters with friends/acquaintances
mentioned (insofar as this editor is concerned) to not come off to the reader
as a hermit, snob, sociopath, or one lacking any and all self-awareness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Third paragraph describes the five predominantly-local
opening acts. He notes a band from Philadelphia
as the lone exception, though admits to having missed the first band and
lacking information about them. A somewhat pretentious excuse for his tardiness
is made, where a simple schedule conflict would suffice.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Fourth paragraph describes in excruciating detail rife with
trademark hyperbole a feeling of ennui arriving at the first signs of raucous
behavior from some of the younger audience members. Complaints about old
injuries, sore knees from standing all day, and a general exhaustion follow. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
It is at this late point that the author begins his coverage
of the headlining act, The Men. References to the Meat Puppets are at first invoked,
only to be immediately revoked and replaced with Husker Du, which is just as
quickly interrupted with Dead Flowers and followed by ellipsis. This is meant
to imply (however thunderously delivered and inherently lacking in subtlety)
the band’s alleged lack of identity in the face of their stylistic
predecessors. The author closes the paragraph by admitting to being inured to
The Men due to the preceding “onslaught of tired white people in t-shirts
watching their own hands play instruments.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Article closes with a non-denial denial of the author’s
investment in the success/failure of the evening in the first place. Blame is
placed on the aforementioned experimental sobriety; a firm commitment to never
repeat said experiment follows.</div>
<span class="st" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span><span class="st"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-68221391970532972402012-06-22T22:39:00.002-05:002012-06-22T22:39:32.039-05:00WHAT WE DO IS SECRETE<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
V.A.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Poetry Out Loud, Volumes 4&10 LP </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
De Stijl somehow landed a stack of OG sealed copies of Klyd
and Linda Watkins’s <i>Poetry Out Loud</i> series. At the time, and even now
conjecturin bout its possible dissemination, they were out on their own, making
their “audio magazine” post-Charles Olsen creep-out mixtapes. I've tried, Lawdy, but I can’t quite
hang a shingle on these. ‘S not sound poetry cuz, despite their collective
literary pedigrees, <i>Poetry Out Loud</i> don’t strike one as academic as even
the Giorno camp (Ginsberg got a rejection stamp!) let alone the Euro whackos. Even
“psych poetry” is more reserved for Ward E lifers like Bill
Bissett. Or maybe it’s just me billboarding over every potential linkage with
“Mid-Atlantic,” cuz the Missouri/Nashville smog coughing out of these sides has
clouded my brain. How can any American with a sense of regional identity <i>not</i>
perk a lobe at these folks? Don’t it just reassure you that St Louis—post-white
flight, & bobbing in the eddies of dropouts and one-bulb bars—produced
accidental progenitors of Michael Gira, and the Space Lady. Folks be
salivatin over Michigan psych,
but I get the sense that maybe there was just something in the water up there.
And yet scarcely a cry from the kingdom
of Jim Crockett, where 10W30 and
local suds stained just as many Wranglers and parking lots. Weird, right? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Well, here we got 2 of the 10 cries
of defiance. <i>Volume 4</i> seems to be a lotta folks’ favorite, and I ain’t
here to steer you away. Each volume has the wonderous stereo-ricochet and rickety delay that made Alan Vega sound so sweet back in the day--so that box is already checked. <i>Volume Four</i> runs on a more comfy engine that some of the
other volumes, though, if’n you wanna track the LSD trickle into Middle
America (though <i>Volume Seven</i>’s “29 Cats,” ‘ll do you right,
too). It’s also got healthy doses of napalm-scented lamentations and Native
American-style/hippie chants. But for my ducets, the final installment, <i>Volume
10</i>, is where it’s at. Gospel and Appalachian musics get decanted into
righteously tense and paranoid moaner anthems. Check “Bad Man,” and the slow-mo
tunnel chase of “Going Below,” for evidence.</div>
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How De Stijl is still holdin stock
is beyond me, but maybe some folk see the word “poetry” and turn tail.
Silliness, cuz Billy Collins this <i>ain’t</i>. If you happen to miss out or
you’s one of the Technics-challenged among us, they’re all up on iTunes for
virtual grippage. </div>
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For further info and a better
tellin’ of the halcyon days than I could ever hope to muster, check <a href="http://www.nashvillescene.com/countrylife/archives/2012/03/08/klyd-watkins-on-performance-poetry-out-loud-nashville-and-writing">this recent interview</a> with Watkins himself. Dude is <i>dude.</i></div>
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<embed src="http://www.divshare.com/flash/playlist?myId=18469948-8f1" width="335" height="28" name="divplaylist" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed></object></div>
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<object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=8,0,0,0" height="28" id="divplaylist" width="335"><param name="movie" value="http://www.divshare.com/flash/playlist?myId=18469948-8f1" />
<embed src="http://www.divshare.com/flash/playlist?myId=18469948-8f1" width="335" height="28" name="divplaylist" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed></object></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-42966680325171608872012-06-07T14:09:00.000-05:002012-06-07T14:09:34.964-05:00CLOSE YER HEAD, YER LETTIN THE AIR OUT<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4K1PGVsttJWJDNVg4JOIP9BWlo8MRYoEchiDvOkf7UUeJA5aWHiaEMwIxu2mKYj2P4_uLQmPVKGPFSsgLxcBYyk235n-aJA0XtP3Kwg5CzlEKuxpwC4hDPtNV8I08cyXgxIcoYgavXn8/s1600/ggg+borsh.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4K1PGVsttJWJDNVg4JOIP9BWlo8MRYoEchiDvOkf7UUeJA5aWHiaEMwIxu2mKYj2P4_uLQmPVKGPFSsgLxcBYyk235n-aJA0XtP3Kwg5CzlEKuxpwC4hDPtNV8I08cyXgxIcoYgavXn8/s200/ggg+borsh.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>
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Girls Girls Girls</div>
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<a href="http://littlebigchief.bigcartel.com/product/girls-girls-girls-borsh-lp"><i>Borsh</i></a> LP, ed. of 250</div>
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Little Big Chief Records 2012</div>
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Temperature's surely rising in the ATL this week as we say goodbye to our 48hr springtime, so this sticky slinger & I been drinkin from the same bottle. Turns out this is an archival callback from the Breakdance the Dawn label what kickstarted a shit-ton interest in latter-day Aussie noise-making, but I'd been thinkin this was an unearthed reel from The Silver anticipating <i>Torch of the Mystics</i>. How they might've found themselves in the Charles Goucher Desert I have no earthly notion. (I never had field trip chaperones quite <i>that</i> good when I was a buck.) But from whatever dimensional transport these cats was belched, Majora or B.D.T.D., both would seem to a first timer familiar yet unimaginable. Hell, the landscape's 'bout the same! Through all 4 tracks, GGG bat sleepily at the toes of punk and private psych just enough to make you think they some woozy kittens, then wail away like you spooked em. Prepare yourself for cymbals that sound like plastic bags and guitars down in the basement with mother. Which is to say, this is the kind of band we all could have if we had half a brain (no, like, literally one lobe each) & just as much fun. Lay on, ratcatchers!</div>
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Xwave</div>
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<a href="http://littlebigchief.bigcartel.com/product/xwave-cities-on-flame-lp"><i>Cities On Flame</i></a> LP, ed. of 250</div>
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Little Big Chief Records 2012</div>
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2nd B.D.T.D. reish to come down the Little Big Chief pike (originally in some single-hand CDr edition) is just as much an edge-piece to the Aussie crud puzzle as the aforementioned. This feast, however, gets a little more loose in the waist. Served up is a whole heapa predigested basement sludge and amp defiance choking on cave cinders. Think Stone Harbour's <i>Emerge</i> gummed up in an oil-stained underpass and yer gettin warmer. Track two, "Sweet Love," has the instantly recognizable wheeze of a battered VHS to remind you "fidelity" will forever be a relative tag. That and the other 3 A-side cuts hiccup in and out like a Chilton take, but the nearly-eponymous B side, "Citie On Flame," is my favorite long burner so far this year. Time, love, and meds seem to do Xwave just right. After a good five-r of pea soup-thick grumblings, what sounded like a Circle of Ouroborus boot dropped in to yank out my <a href="http://www.dict.cc/english-german/hampsteads+%5Bcockney+rhyming+slang++Hampstead+Heath+%3D+teeth%5D.html">hampsteads</a> slow-like, all the time askin', "Is it safe?" This was immediately followed by a mounting hum in my forsaken jaw and a dreary march toward a thankless sun. Twas time to hop back on the Shetland & ride, bunkie. Check the crossed out price tag on the sleeve for add'l <a href="http://sginc31.narod.ru/humor/slang.htm">bindle punk</a> desperation.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Get yers </span><a href="http://littlebigchief.bigcartel.com/" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">direct</a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> if'n you in These United. Email </span><a href="http://breakdancethedawnathotmaildotcom/" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">breakdancethedawn</a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> if'n you Aussie. Dial up </span><a href="http://volcanictongue.com/" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Volcanic Tongue </a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">if'n you elsewheres.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-43367414644643661082012-05-25T22:29:00.002-05:002012-05-25T22:41:24.305-05:00$10 HOLLER #2: CM ELLENBURG<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ZCj2MdYaBd6PpigR8wL7tA_KtPTGNFC_aCqPJN1ZqT8HSGrHLMm41LCGIVA2WO2C0M077eKUl0tNzFl-NXHm3mUfanLeiv22ENCkYNzWon5y7s_REP51ouvQ_OmGiR6EdptZTQNLrXI/s1600/ellenburg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ZCj2MdYaBd6PpigR8wL7tA_KtPTGNFC_aCqPJN1ZqT8HSGrHLMm41LCGIVA2WO2C0M077eKUl0tNzFl-NXHm3mUfanLeiv22ENCkYNzWon5y7s_REP51ouvQ_OmGiR6EdptZTQNLrXI/s200/ellenburg.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">CM Ellenburg </span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Just Chewin'</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Country Brand 197? </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'll admit outright: in my head this record's called </span><i style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Three Cobs In a Fountain.</i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Maybe it's just me, but an album featuring a seasoned <a href="http://www.ellenburgseptictank.com/about_us.html">hockiologist</a> telling rambling country jokes sounds right as sunshine to me. Somehow, whenever this comes up (rare as that is), it's always as a country rock record of some make or model. Granted, there is an act called Dixie Single plinking gently in the next county in these dip-soaked grooves. But this show is all about C.M. sprayin' yarns like they was ground beef--everything from why the septic business is a safe bet in rural Alabama to why farmer's without commodes always carry three corn cobs in their coverall pockets. (<i>"They use the white one to see if they need to use the two red ones again," or something to that effect.</i>) Many tracks are marked "not for airplay" like, "Where's the Clapper?" & Lo, many a knee was slapped & lo, I am probably having a different kind of good time than the one </span><i style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Just Chewin'</i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> had in mind. Still, there is something in Ellenburg that gets you all dumbstruck about the American South which, even in Atlanta, is kinda scarce in the Mon-Fri.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm plum-perplexed why the family business doesn't glean all the cred and ducets they could offa their dad's record. </span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> (<i>Well, a couple 8 bucks. --Ed.</i>) </span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Hopefully they won't ill me next time I roll through Coffee County because all the customers complained when they search for them on Google, the first word they see is FUCK. I mean no harm, oh pilots of the pipes! Y'all surely-do provide a good quality service. I'll admit it: I love this record.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">HARD FILED</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-45236692335853167092012-05-23T21:46:00.000-05:002012-05-23T21:46:45.524-05:00SONGS FROM A RHEUM<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9o5ck-89ZeCkrJUpEtI-Lyh5tad5LzmAO8m8Oa91O3iR4DfSMR0mgYWDvubfDKS0kcVRR5Bk1oKnZpU6t5k64k_HARVVntIpg3_xKAIXMouL8Hc4F4XAF0FiIsOl2ECU-cOjr8lwOkCw/s1600/lower+plenty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9o5ck-89ZeCkrJUpEtI-Lyh5tad5LzmAO8m8Oa91O3iR4DfSMR0mgYWDvubfDKS0kcVRR5Bk1oKnZpU6t5k64k_HARVVntIpg3_xKAIXMouL8Hc4F4XAF0FiIsOl2ECU-cOjr8lwOkCw/s200/lower+plenty.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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Lower Plenty</div>
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<i>Hard Rubbish</i> LP</div>
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Special Award Records/Easter Bilby 2012</div>
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If the Aussies have a Lawrence,
Kansas, circa 1996 of their very own, that
scrapper of a town is surely where such a lumbering squad as Lower Plenty 1<sup>st</sup>
found purchase. A collaborative release between Special Award Records and
Easter Bilby (giving chase to their solid <a href="http://ineedinsulation.blogspot.com/">distro</a> quick-snap), <i>Hard Rubbish</i>
takes me away to a strange teenage street, where feared <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=abandominium">abandominiums</a> get
snuck-through in the middle of a Thursday night; where somebody steals a copy
of F.J. McMahon’s <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nESfAOA_qqE&feature=related"><i>Spirit of the Golden Juice</i></a> from their friend’s uncle
at a party and plays it through a Sears portable on the front lawn and <i>nobody</i>
laughs at it; where cigarettes are passed between friends on aimless car rides.
Youth, after all, is kinda meant to be wasted, and these Lower Plenty kids seem
to be wasting it good & proper. Though I ain’t quite sold on the whole
affair, they’s certainly takin the pimply post-Midwest indie thing to dreamier,
groggier places than I’m used to hearin’. “Nullarbor,” which I’m assumin’ is
the single or some approximation thereof, nails a 3-beer afternoon to the attic
floor like it oughta and it’s definitely serviceable at 2am on a long ride home, too--sorta like Galaxie 500 without the collegiate wank to the third power. The stinkweed of factory
towns is perhaps more fragrant on cuts like “Strange Beast,” and the dream-speak
opener “Work in the Morning,” though, and that's where the real fear/fun dichotomy rides like thunder.</div>
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Can’t complain too much, since what we get to witness here
is the growing pains of a promising lil charmer of a band. And just think: I <i>coulda</i>
written about the new Fushitsusha. <i>Coulda</i> but <i>dinna</i>. Glad.</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/x1lUhwXz70k" width="420"></iframe> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-14197371249974963592012-05-14T23:11:00.000-05:002012-05-14T23:16:04.764-05:00$10 HOLLA #1: JOHN MILLS-COCKELL<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">(<i>The first installment of a new series highlighting a pastime that scarcely needs a-budgin' round here: CHEAP RECORDS.</i> --Ed.)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE1jUxg7EyN2zGMcvVUfiSdhaRf6-_ndTjeE_9JlU5JZbxP2mJWrmObEMjowOfHDEpJYBrkh3kEsnsLD3_04XWQavYLMw_GUTq6J1fnVxBkZnkQglcCh5U_AA01mgQ_TVEGbzwm6QbR74/s1600/R-1599018-1249210769.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE1jUxg7EyN2zGMcvVUfiSdhaRf6-_ndTjeE_9JlU5JZbxP2mJWrmObEMjowOfHDEpJYBrkh3kEsnsLD3_04XWQavYLMw_GUTq6J1fnVxBkZnkQglcCh5U_AA01mgQ_TVEGbzwm6QbR74/s200/R-1599018-1249210769.jpeg" width="195" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial;">John Mills-Cockell</span></div>
<br />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Neon Accelerando</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial;"> LP</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Aura Records 1979</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Periodically, the process of
writing about music turns abruptly sour. Patterns, moods, production techniques
& musicianship suddenly read more like symptoms of a pandemic threatening
to engulf the whole medium, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Blob</i>-like.
Every household’s got its own homespun remedy, but around here it remains a thick,
oozing slice of stinky, wobbly humanity; the audio manifestation of Epoisses
thrown together by your creepy downstairs neighbor’s uncle. For whatever reason,
records like <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Neon Accelerando</i> set me
righter than a beaker of bitters. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Mills-Cockell was keymaster
and chief composer for Canadian OOP RAER PROG SYNTH W0W band Syrinx back in the
70s. Here, Johnny boy gets waay more symphonic in his structures all by himself,
wandering into scores of queasy, misty, magenta throw rug moments. “Maelstrom,”
opens like the tourist lounge version of Wagner, modulating violently from thin
library funk to gooey alien vistas. Track four, “Gateway,” contains what I can
only describe as a back alley sax solo, spotlit by sparkly organ showers and
shivering percussion. Such are merely candid snaps of the manic, perverse
emotionality contained within. Were it not for the Euro disco production,
compressing everything into the kind of fidelity one might find on a 9<sup>th</sup>-gen
VHS of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Galaxy Express 999</i>, this might
be a kissin’ kin of Lauri Paisle<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">y</i>’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fire of Dreams</i> or, conversely, the
awkward gamer cousin of a great many privately issue cult drifters. Which is to
say, the reek of cable knit sweaters marinated in AquaNet and dog-eared fantasy
mags is so strong it’s almost tactile. So go ahead. Fold the pages. Shake the
can. Face the mist. Lose an hour or two lost in the land where everyone, it
seems, is lost. Nothing, I say, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">nothing</i>
will seem generic for months.</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7698158476425201429.post-45516194613755252432012-05-02T11:43:00.001-05:002012-05-02T11:43:42.532-05:00WALL OF GROG<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinbRumj6U1j-c3mObWHglCYPM0uHkIBJBJBHdJ-j6OtZhEmUaO4UVa2sGGpXMrp5gZDyYXgtwielSHu45UlNID6a-T1AXSSyVOpGgSVL2lvpcH7QdU_8qDCKC7r7CekuXwt1KhJP8vVyY/s1600/nadnanna.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinbRumj6U1j-c3mObWHglCYPM0uHkIBJBJBHdJ-j6OtZhEmUaO4UVa2sGGpXMrp5gZDyYXgtwielSHu45UlNID6a-T1AXSSyVOpGgSVL2lvpcH7QdU_8qDCKC7r7CekuXwt1KhJP8vVyY/s200/nadnanna.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>
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Mad Nanna</div>
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<i>I Made Blood Better</i></div>
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Negative Guest List LP 2012</div>
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What the world needs now, I take it, is another mile marker
on the road of "gone." From the wilds of the
Land That Keeps on Giving (lately), Australia,
come Mad Nanna, slightly altering<sup>1</sup> their Goaty Tapes release to
make their 12" debut. Though it weren’t covered in twigs and grubs when I
slid off its jacket, I wouldn’t have been surprised. Both sides of this…<i>thing</i>
throb with post-police wake-up/holly-bush-facial/where-am-i-and-what-happened.
It stands up on newborn legs, makes a D-grade effort to iron its shirt, and reenters
society in search of another crunchy pillow (preferably one indoors). </div>
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Jandek comparisons are the pizza-flavored Combos of the
music review vending machine; a call to Orkin when you need a hitman. Suffice
to say, there have been acts and records like this about once a decade for at
least 40 years and, sez me, you need all of ‘em. They are the trips for
biscuits, the busted mornings, the anthems of mistake that warm the
wormy-hearted. I can’t tell if these dudes (perhaps the most awkward assemblage
of crumbs I’ve yet peeped, by the way) are writing melodies or just gently
warping the tapes, and I don’t mean some Kevin Shields shit. I’m talking dead
hoofers and all thumb jamborees, blowin brodies on bald tires til the break of
dawn, with nary a try-hard in sight. “You Can’t Expect It,” is almost a song in
that it has parts (plural!) and something (singular) akin to chops. But that’s
about as close as they come to climbing into the box. </div>
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I assume this is one of the last howls of Negative Guest
List, along with the Sky Needle LP and Ragtime Frank's The Truth, lest someone
be brave enough to raise the torch. An appropriately muddied beginning for Mad
Nanna’s vinyl career. Bravo!</div>
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Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go pound some vitamins. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://littlebigchief.bigcartel.com/product/mad-nanna-i-made-blood-better-lp">NEEDED</a>.</div>
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<sup>1</sup>(ejecting "Outside Donati's
Meats,"--"A Day In the Life," made exclusively of burnt ends and
smoked filters--which I was actually a touch bummed to see go)</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06636142704546266526noreply@blogger.com0