Memories of the Mayfly

Death of the Territories, aka 'The Wrestling Game'

2012-02-05T15:05:00.024-05:00

Prologue:

An interesting cat named Charlie Warren runs an even more interesting blog entitled, The Semi-Retired Gamer. As the name implies, Mr. Warren is an old school gamer (and game designer), mainly focusing on tabletop role-playing games. His recent discussions on game design have provoked a lot of thought amongst his followers; myself, included.

One thing his musings have inspired me to do is to finally post this here bloggy bit. I've kept it in dock for several years now simply because it clashed with the disjointed (and low key) concept here.

Tip of the hat, Mr. Warren.

_____________________________________

Games have pretty much been in my blood for as long as I can remember.

My father inspired in me a great love of dice and chits and game boards. Countless games were played between us during my more formative years; Stratego, Dogfight, Mille Bornes, Dungeons & Dragons, Brian Blume's Boot Hill, and TSR's Vampyre: Game of the Hunt for Dracula; Frankly, I've forgotten more titles than I can remember.

Another thing the old man gave me was a healthy dose of do-it-yourself creativity.

The first game we created together was a pretty cool six-sided dice and chart game based off of Topps baseball cards that I collected. I'm pretty sure it was 1978, but dates become hazy.

Essentially you would match the batter's previous season batting average against a pitcher's E.R.A., roll a couple of sixers and then consult a chart for the result of the pitch - ball, strike, foul, or hit. On event of a foul ball or a batters count (3-1), a more 'dialed in' chart was used for the next pitch (the curve of the results were more in favor of the batter). On the event of a pitcher's count (1-2, 2-2), a more 'dialed in' chart was used in favor of the pitcher.

On event of a hit, you'd consult another chart based on a hitter's power numbers, roll the dice, and then determine the type of hit (singles to various fields, doubles, triples, or home runs). We also had rules (i.e., charts) for Stealing Bases, Bunting, and random injuries.

When has this guy ever not rocked?

Considering we made the game blind (i.e., we never played anything remotely like it as means of guidance), it was pretty cool stuff - and a lot of fun.

It was also my first instance of arguing against core rules. After lengthy debate, I successfully argued that the season averages (both ERA and Batting) should be averaged between the previous two seasons. After all, one guy might have rocked in 1977, but bottomed out in 1978 because of injury.

Not bad for a 9 year old wisp of a nerd.

Anyway, I played that game like a mad man - even after the old man lost interest.

Eventually my obsession turned to another subject, Professional Wrestling. Once I discovered TBS 'rasslin out of Georgia in 1983, even the mighty Milwaukee Brewers (my favorite team at the time) could not stand a chance.

Comic book-like goons beating the crap out of each other? Sign me the hell up.

And because I was game obsessed, I shortly created what I ever-so-smartly called, 'The Wrestling Game'.

The Dreaded Heart Punch

Each wrestler had a strength rating (which represented the ability to lift people, plus added damage modifiers to moves pulled off), a weight (which also had damage modifiers), and various body part 'health points' listed (head, shoulders, both arms, both legs, body and back).

Every move I knew about (and it was a good 20-30 pages of notebook paper) was statted out to reflect how many turns the move took to complete, how much damage the move did, the part(s) of body it effected, how many stun points the move dished out, whether or not a move was illegal (3 warnings and your wrestler got disqualified), and whether or not a (percentile based) Strength Vs. Weight chart was needed to be consulted for 'opponent lifting' moves (body slams, pile drivers and the like).

The matches were broken down into 5 second segments or turns, with each person rolling 1 ten-sided dice in order to establish initiative for that particular segment. The wrestler with initiative would do whatever the heck they wanted in that 5 second segment within 'logical reason'.

Some moves, such as punches and kicks, would result not only in damage - but also in Stun Points dished out to the opponent. At the end of each turn, both wrestlers deducted a Stun Point from their total and then repeated the process the following turn. Once a wrestler went over 10 Stun Points, they were considered 'dazed on their feet', which made them unable to roll for initiative the next turn. This allowed the aggressor to have free reign to do whatever; beat up on the opponent so as to pile on more and more Stun Points, work over a body part for the purpose of submissions, whatever.

The goal was to stun the opponent long enough so that they were unable to kick out of pin-fall attempts, or to damage a body part to the point where they either submitted on their own or risked an injury due to stubbornness (which ended the match by means of a medical disqualification).

While it sounds like Doom City for the stunned, one must remember the ballet of pro wrestling. Each action takes one whole turn. If I was to set you up for a brutal clothesline, it would take one turn to grab your arm and back you into the ropes, another turn to irish whip you into the opposite ropes, then - finally, a third turn for you to bounce back at me while I propelled myself at you with an arm extended. Had your stunned wrestler gotten back to 10 or under Stun Points within that span, we would roll for initiative to say who dictated the following segment. Perhaps I win and nail you with the clothesline. Perhaps you win and roll under the blow, hurdling yourself back into the ropes in an attempt to turn the tables.

In addition, each Wrestler had 3 'Desperation Points' going in to any match. These could be spent by the player in various ways, such as gaining a 'second wind' in order to remove 10 Stun Points from their totals - or to make a desperate kick out of a sure-fire pinfall attempt - or even to call out to the dressing rooms for one of your buddies.

On and on it went until someone won by pin, submission, or disqualification.

The action was fast, furious, and just as gonzo as professional wrestling itself. Most importantly, it was a ton of fun. Various groups of friends and I would play that sucker for years. Literally. From 1983 until I stopped caring for wrestling in 1987, I had two groups of buddies that must have played that game hundreds upon hundreds of times.

And to be honest, the majority of the better gaming memories I have buried came about while playing that thing.

While we typically played as our favorite wrestlers, I once created a guy called 'The Executioner'. He wrestled in an executioner's mask and was the most blood-thirsty guy in our federation. Such was his love of violence, the Executioner once broke Tommy Rich's neck after applying three straight Brainbusters on the concrete floor. Afterwards, the masked monster grabbed a microphone and claimed that while he might have lost the match (he obviously got DQ'ed), he single-handedly put the peroxide industry out of business.

Tom Long, my good friend at the time, was not amused. He spent the rest of the summer bringing in more and more bruisers in an attempt to get his revenge. Something he would do one September day after school when his Bruiser Brody not only broke the Executioner's leg, but also unmasked him as 'Montgomery Van, daily accountant'.

The mystique was gone. The Executioner soon retired from the sport.

Or the time Kevin Sullivan ran around hypnotizing as many opponents as he possibly could. Win, lose, or draw, if the pseudo-satanic Sullivan could make his opponent cluck like a chicken, he could hold his head high.

Not long after, I grew up and out of professional wrestling. I'd never look down on those that continued following the He-Man carnival - but, at the same time, I'd also never look up at them; Wrestling, for me, was a teenage thing.

A good game, though... that's ageless.

And it doesn't hurt that I feed out of Nostalgia's trough.

The Great... Kabooooooki!

___________________________________

Epilogue:

I attempted to update the game (now called: The Death of the Territories*) a couple of years ago, using a Boot Hill-like role-playing system base - but I'm not too sure of the results. My own circle of gaming friends has shrunk to the point of me sitting here on this computer typing this nonsense.

I added wrestler Prime Attributes (Strength, Agility, Technical, Rumble, Cheating, and Intangibles), Secondary Attributes (Awareness, Will, and Authority; mainly for refs and managers) and Traits, restructured the action system so that it was a 'attribute based roll to hit/avoid the move' deal, and expanded the roles of managers and referees. As my old stuff was percentile-based, I easily brought over the majority of charts; injuries, blood loss, strength vs. weight... heck, even the hypnosis chart!

Newer Game Play:

1) Each player rolls a d10 for initiative
2) The winner declares his wrestler’s actions for that turn
3) The Moves Chart is consulted to determine Move (attribute) Bases for the player’s action
4) The Skills Chart is consulted to determine Success or Failure rolls
5) The Attacker or Defender rolls a d100 to determine Success or Failure of the player’s action
6) Physical and/or Stun State damage for a successful action is deducted from the ‘victim’s’ affected body part and/or added to their Stun State Total. Non-Successful dice rolls result in the opponent blocking the action.
7) Repeat Steps 1-6 until one of the wrestlers is too stunned to roll initiative (11 Stun Points)
8) Continue in this manner until one of the wrestlers expends all Desperation Points and loses the match - or someone gets disqualified.

* Note: The 'Death of the Territories' name is taken from a set of modifications (mods) I made for Adam Ryland's wrestling series of text-based games out of Grey Dog Software. They were set during the early 1980s and generally well received. Go, me!

The Chorus declares, "Barest of Bones!"

2012-01-27T22:25:00.011-05:00

** spoken in the voice of Homer Flynn of The Residents **

You smell that sound? Huh... Do ya?

It's anger. Pure, unapologetic anger.

Look around! Anger in the news. Anger in music. Anger in comments left at the Betty Crocker forum. Anger in the half-played axis and allies game board collecting dust on a forgotten table somewhere.

Even in the eyes of your 40 year old Teddy Bear.

And he's pissed.

It's scary, man. But I've got a plan.

I'm gonna collect all those people that matter to me; all those people that I love. I'm gonna collect them and tell them there ain't no more anger. Or bitterness. Or cynicism.

Those days as an angry young dog are behind me.

Are they behind you?

.
.
.

But then I get to thinkin'.

Hey, Dad! Remember the time you were called in to pick me up at the Parma Police station at 3 o'clock one Saturday morning? Remember how you spit in my face and declared me a disgust?

I do.

I remember it like one of those grainy VHS tapes of something recorded off late-night t.v.; low contrasted and jagged-edged with just a whisper of disjointed sound crackling through the static.

Still... I do have to admit my admiration. With nothing but Colt 45 and saliva, you managed to create a black hole.

There isn't a scientist alive who can say the same.

I kid myself more than I kid you all.

The angry young dog will always morph into a mistrustful hog, rooting not for truffles - but for fragmented memories.

Finding slim pickings, self-consumption typically begins with the tail and ends at the snout.

But...

But I do got a plan.

I'm gonna collect all those people that mattered to me; all those people that I loved. I'm gonna collect them and bury them like a dog does his bone.

Those days as an angry young hog are behind me.

Are they behind you?

Short Attention Span Theatre #2: A Case of the Punks!

2010-06-06T14:16:00.009-04:00

Probably my all-time favorite song ever put to vinyl: Ashtray Heart by Beefheart and the Magic Band. Don Van Vliet dynamites the punks and new wavers for essentially ripping him off - in particular the 'Man on the Porcupine Fence', Johnny Rotten.

Fair or not, the man had a point.

And Beefheart's word play in this one is simply off the charts.

"Make Invalids out of Supermen..."

You used me like an ashtray heart
 Case of the punks.  Right from the start
 I feel like a glass shrimp in a pink panty 
With a saccharine chaperone
 Make invalids out of supermen
 Call in a "shrink"
 And pick you up in a girdle 
You used me like an ashtray heart
 Right from the start
 Case of the punks
 Another day, another way...
 Somebody's had too much to think
 Open up another case of the punks
 Each pillow is touted like a rock
 The mother / father figure
 Somebody's had too much to think 
Send your mother home your navel
 Case of the punks
 New hearts to the dining rooms 
Violet heart cake
 Dissolve in new cards, boards, throats, underwear
 Ashtray heart 
You picked me out, brushed me off 
Crushed me while I was burning out
 Then you picked me out 
Like an ashtray heart
 Hid behind the curtain
 Waited for me to go out
 A man on a porcupine fence 
Used me for an ashtray heart
 Hit me where the lover hangs out
 Stood behind the curtain
 While they crushed me out
 You used me for an ashtray heart 
You looked in the window when I went out
 You used me like an ashtray heart.

- Van Vliet

Beast Cream For Doc

2010-05-26T12:07:00.015-04:00

While I have long given up on the pastime of clamming through endless music blogs in search of pearls, I feel it worth the effort this time...

The good Captain Beefheart was soon to sail off into the none-set of mysterious illness. But not before digging through his back pages and delivering a three album return-to-form. Four, if you consider the original Bat Chain Puller recordings.

Great fan-made video

The 'Ice Cream For Crow' video that MTV felt was 'too weird' to air.

For as many brilliant artists as we've had throughout history, at least according to their doting fans, family and friends, it is a surprise we haven't risen to greater heights as a species. And no matter how many times I hear the 'genius' expression, it never gets old.

Hyperbole, after all, was laid off moons ago.

No. To me, there is no brilliance. There is no genius.

There is only Beefheart.

Bat Chain Puller - (Front), 1976
Never Officially Released
The Unheard Music blog

Shiny Beast (Bat Chain Puller) - (Front), 1978
Warner Bros. Records #BSK 3256
Forest Roxx blog

Doc At The Radar Station (Front), 1980
Virgin Records (Canada) #VM 2209
Visionearz blog

Ice Cream For Crow - (Front), 1982
Epic Records #ARE 38274
FRGK blog

Short Attention Span Theatre #1: The Hot Fudge Show

2010-05-26T09:08:00.014-04:00

Early mornings have never been the same...

Syndicated out of Detroit from 1976-1982, it's the Hot Fudge Show!

While the memories are fading, I am pretty sure WKYC (Channel 3) in Cleveland used to broadcast this at 7:00AM every weekday morning.

"Hot Fudge. Right on!"

Links of Interest:

* Hot Fudge Show - Official Site

40? Nope. No angst here.

2010-05-13T11:01:00.018-04:00

First post in quite some time, but that is neither here nor there.

... Unless we're talking about Spot's CleSoul blog.

Updates at that place are like dentures to the gummy. Mad Dog to the rummy? I don't really know, but I enjoy that blog enough to stalk ... er, follow it for as long as Bob continues the education ride.

You see, I rode on the further most outskirts of Bob/Spot's social circles as a me-teen/young adult; a friends of friends type of deal.

The Normandy Freaks.
Domestic Crisis.
Doc's Shake Shoppe.

Essentially 'All of those kids cooler than I', or some such nonsensical truth.

I mooned over Kristi Huska for far longer than I dare admit, which - of course, tends to obscure all things. But that particular cast of characters did include many of the elite in the Parma punk scene: Jim Luppuci, Kristi, the Mysterious Mr. Konya... um... and a whole lot more, believe you me.

Oh, how I wanted to be like them. I'd hang around in my room pretending to be amputated, or a talented artist, or a frenzied mop of hair. Yet hiding behind the moron front I presented, the cool never did translate.

But I sure fell down a lot!

"Say it ain't so, Joe. Say it ain't so!"

One of the single most interesting of freaks in that entire scene was Spot.

The infamous Tony Erba was perhaps more gonzo to me; Jim Morgan and Mark Embrogno more directly influential; Corey Barnett more respected, but Spot... Spot was the King.

Just the mere mention of his name and the person opposite would frame a huge smile, chuckle to themselves, then let loose with the most amazing of stories you'd ever be likely to hear. Laughter and/or bafflement never ceased to follow.

Everyone - and I do mean everyone had a Spot Story they would pass amongst themselves. And not one of them mean-spirited. At least none that I ever heard or first-hand experienced.

I cringe, twitch and generally spaz out when thinking back on the things I've pulled over the years. Some of the funniest and more memorable, however, were inspired by the Spirit of Spot and his guerrilla theater of the absurd.

Twenty years down the road, Bob continues to serve as inspiration and entertainment.

And I'm still falling down.

Nope. No angst here!

Flipper Rules, OK?

2009-01-19T17:42:00.020-05:00

Obligatory Cut and Paste job from Wikipedia and/or AllMusic.

Because research is for librarians and egghead kid sisters. And that's not punk. It is, however, borderline emo.

Which only goes to show you: librarians and kid sisters are emos.

You're so bored, cause you're boring!
- You Nought Me

Named after an infamous dolphin... Or birth defect babies... Or an insane band member's habit of naming every pet he ever owned 'Flipper', Dagwood Bum's Sled formed in San Francisco in 1979. Will Shatter, Bruce Lose, Ted Falconi, and Steve DePace quickly tired of having to explain the witty double entendre to hapless punk rockers like the Dead Ken-I-Gotta-Pees and Soupy Sales. So they went back to calling themselves Flipper.

It was a bold move in a career defined by bold moves. And drugs. Lots and lots of drugs.

I guess you can say music, too. But music is so yesterday; Flipper is next Tuesday at 4:36PM EST!

Back (L-R): Steve DePace, drums - Ted Falconi, guitar

Front (L-R): Will Shatter, bass & vocals - Bruce Lose, bass & vocals

No less than respected punk legend Henry Rollins called Flipper, and I am quoting here:

"Blah Blah Look at my tattoos Blah Blah Denis Leary Blah Blah VH1 Blah Blah Heavier Than You!!!!"

And, well... if it is coming from Henry Rollins, you'd be silly not to take it as gospel. He is a spoken word artist, you know. Just like Jello Biafra!

And that crazy bag lady down the street who cries drunken soliloquies to her long dead child. But I don't see her getting her own VH1 show or college spoken word tours, you two-bit carnies.

How much are kids being charged to hear your live-action infomercials, anyways? Whatever it is, I'm sure you'll end up blaming Ticketmaster.

Set it and forget it!!

Love Canal b/w Ha, Ha, Ha 7" (Front), 1980

Subterranean Records #SUB 07

A Mayfly Link (@320kbps)

Album: Generic Flipper (Front), 1981

Subterranean Records #SUB 25

Christ Almartyr Blog

Blow'n Chunks (Front), 1984

ROIR Records #A-126

Hangover Heart Attack Blog

Gone Fishin' (Front), 1984

Subterranean Records #SUB 42

Christ Almartyr Blog (again)

Public Flipper Limited: Live 1980-85 (Front), 1986

Subterranean Records #SUB 53

Nothin' Sez Somethin' Blog

And now I'll take some questions from the readers. Sound fun?

Q - You claim to be a punk, yet insult everything about them in most of your blog postings. What the hell is up with that?

A - Thanks for your question.

Q - Do you think youre funny? What's with the post on Johnny Rotten man?

A - Whoa! One question at a time please.

Q - I didn't think your Sid Vicious joke in the post from Dec. 20th was funny. How dare you! #%$@ You and the horse you rode in on, buddy!!

A - I'm sorry. Was there a question in there?

Note: If you have a question that you would like answered, feel free to drop me a line. Comments are always welcomed. Henry would approve...

Ari-Up: Punky Reggae Queen of Many Names

2009-01-17T00:41:00.029-05:00

Even before the breakup of all-girl punk outfit the Slits in 1981, Ariana Forster; aka Ari-Up (aka Ari Stepper; aka Baby Ari; aka Madussa; aka Whatever the hell she wants us to call her this week) began lending her extraordinary vocal talents to various ground-breaking earthbeat productions. Even if the press didn't see it, artists such as Nina Hagen, Talking Heads, Adrian Sherwood, and Neneh Cherry valued her contributions to their expanding world-view.

When one lays out the recorded work Ari-Up either fronted, contributed to, or appeared on from 1978 until disappearing to the dancehalls of Jamaica in 1983, it is perplexing that the woman's influence on the world music explosion of the mid-80s is not better noted by music scribes.

Then again, music critics, video DJs, and latent feminists proclaimed Paul Simon's wonderful Graceland (1986) as 'the most refreshing thing since oxygen tanks' in trying to celebrate that albums 'innovative use of world music in Tin Pan Alley Folk-Pop'. The hucksters.

After gushing their ignorance so blatantly, who can fault music historians for missing the boat so badly on Ari-Up. They've got the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame to worry about. Not to mention the burden of perpetuating the myth of Björk's originality.

That's a big responsibility!

- The Slits (L-R), Viv Albertine, Tessa Pollitt, Ari-Up

It has been suggested by journalists interviewing the woman that Ari-Up's growing interest in reggae and dub during the late 70s was the catalyst of the shocking change in musical outlook of the Slits from sonically brash to the experimental. An interesting, if not butt-kissing assessment. I would tend to credit the many converging influences surrounding the Slits during the 1977-79 period - including, but not limited to legendary Roxy DJ Don Letts managing the band for a spell, Nora Forster, the mother of Ari, dating and eventually marrying reggae aficionado John Lydon, and the general influence of Public Image Limited's first two releases. But what do I know? I do not get paid for this!

Whatever the influences, the Slits' output during the bands lifetime was remarkably different from any of their first wave U.K. punk rock brethren. You know - the ones that got all of the press and after-thought recognition.

Good thing I do not trust anyone in the mainstream that reports on the many forms of entertainment we gorge ourselves on. If I did, I'd probably be blogging about Amy Winehouse. Or Metallica.

Or Caboose Supe.

He sold more records than Elvis and The Beatles, you know.

The recordings of Ari-Up, 1978-1983

Nina Hagen Band - S/T (Front), 1978 -- CBS Records #CBS 83136

Contribution: Music & Lyrics, Pank (track 11)

Frisian's Other Favorites Blog

The New Age Steppers - S/T (Front), 1981

On-U Sound Records #On-U LP 01

Contribution: Vocals

Not Rock On Blog

Rip Rig & Panic - God (Front), 1981

Virgin Records #V 2213

Contributions: Vocals (track 4)

Down Underground Blog

Creation Rebel & New Age Steppers - Threat to Creation, 1981

Cherry Red Records #BRED 21

Contributions: Piano, Organ

Global Groove Blog

Singers & Players - War of Words (Front), 1982

On-U Sound Records #ON-U LP 05

Contributions: Keyboard

Devotional Hooligan Blog

New Age Steppers - Action Battlefield (Front), 1982

Statik Records #STAT LP 02

Contributions: Vocals, Piano, Percussion

Rocket Remnants Blog

New Age Steppers - Foundation Steppers (Front), 1983

On-U Sound Records #ON-U LP 21

Contributions: Vocals

Rocket Remnants Blog

Note: Besides the Slits albums and Talking Heads' Fear of Music, which can be found elsewhere on this blog, the only Ari-Up appearances during the period in question I am unable to link to is the My Love 12" and 7" singles by New Age Steppers (both released in 1981) and Prince Far I & The Arab's Cry Tuff Dub Encounter Chapter III (1980) - which features Ari providing backing vocals on 'Shake the Nation'.

The Compilation Compost

2009-01-13T20:13:00.005-05:00

Being a young music lover with a spartan budget, I typically ended up snagging compilation albums in the hopes of finding something new and improved.

More often than not, I'd end up regretting the purchase.

Too often, compilation albums are nothing more than a means for a record company to squeeze every last dime out of a song or artist before moving on to the next flavor of the month.

But sometimes... sometimes you could strike gold.

- Rat Music For Rat People (Front), 1982 - Go! Records #GO 003

Not too long after I first began purchasing my own music, I stumbled across Rat Music For Rat People. The title excited me. Would there be songs about giant rats and their unwilling food source?

Not as such.

But the band listing was almost as interesting as the title: Black Flag, Dead Kennedys, Bad Brains, Circle Jerks... haha! A band named Flipper? Neat! D.O.A., Crucifix, TSOL, Avengers, and The Dils.

It was a risky purchase. I knew of four of the ten bands, but had only actually listened to Black Flag and the Circle Jerks. And it was a live album. Even then I knew that live albums were never to be trusted. Unless it was Johnny Cash. You could always trust Johnny Cash...

In the end, I swung the deal on the merits of the Dead Kennedys name. That was sure to irk the hippie vampire.

It ended up a wise purchase - and a sucker buy at the same time.

- Cracks In the Sidewalk (Front), 1980 - New Alliance Records #NAR-001

The next four or five compilation purchases I would make were, for one reason or another, flat-out amazing...

Cracks In the Sidewalk introduced me to the glory that is the Minutemen. And the cover art genius of Raymond Pettibon.

From then on, I would buy every single album that featured a Pettibon cover.

Did someone say sucker buy?

The artists: Minutemen, Black Flag, Saccharine Trust, Kindled Imagination, Artless Entanglements, and Sharp Corners.

Like any self-respecting (i.e., recovering) punk, I've still only heard of the first three bands.

- Let Them Eat Jellybeans (Front), 1981 - Alternative Tentacles Records #Virus 4

Let Them Eat Jellybeans! would be the start of a long held appreciation of the Alternative Tentacles label. It was also the high point of my compilation buying streak.

To this day, the track listing still blows me away. It is amazing that Alternative Tentacles was able to put together the line-up:

Flipper, Ha Ha Ha -- D.O.A., The Prisoner -- Black Flag, Police Story (with Dez!) -- Bad Brains, Pay to Cum -- Dead Kennedys, Nazi Punks Fuck Off -- Circle Jerks, Paid Vacation -- Really Red, Prostitution -- The Feederz, Jesus Entering From The Rear -- The Subhumans, Slave to My Dick -- Geza X, Isotope Soap -- Bpeople, Persecution, That's My Song -- Wounds, An Object -- The Offs, Everyone's a Bigot -- Anonymous, Corporate Food -- Half Japanese, Fun Again -- Christian Lunch, Joke's On You -- Voice Farm, Sleep

Great, great stuff.

- The Blasting Concept (Front), 1983 - SST Records #SST 013

After snacking on Jellybeans, I immediately picked up The Blasting Concept. After digesting that one, I would run out and buy the Minutemen's Double Nickels on the Dime double LP. It might well be the strongest back-to-back-to-back purchases I would ever make.

Four tracks by the Minutemen, three tracks by Black Flag (featuring all three of the Flag's lead singers up to that point), two tracks by the Meat Puppets, and individual cuts by Saccharine Trust, Overkill, the Stains, Würm, and the mighty Hüsker Dü; what was not to like?

Not too damn much.

Unless you consider that SST Records would eventually bloat itself into a coma, Alternative Tentacles would ugly itself with petty infighting, New Alliance Records would die with Minutemen lead singer D. Boon, and Rat Music For Rat People would spawn two banal sequels.

Go, Team Punk!

Links of Interest:

* Cracks In The Sidewalk, 1980 - Cosmic Hearse Blog

* Let Them Eat Jellybeans!, 1981 - Lucid Media Blog

* Rat Music For Rat People, 1982 - Stealingofanation Blog

* The Blasting Concept, 1983 - The Blasting Concept Blog

Zoogz Rift: Mix Tape Hero

2009-01-11T13:41:00.002-05:00

Having stumbled across a post at an excellent blog the other day, I got to thinking about one of the more rewarding artists in my ever-bloating music library: Zoogz Rift.

Zoogie Whatsit?

Oh yeah...

Described by crotch-less music critics as 'imaginative', 'stimulating', 'irritating', 'vitriolic', 'reactionary', 'paranoid', 'patience-defying', 'scrupulously obscene', and 'iconoclastic', Zoogz Rift is as much an original as his self-admitted influences Captain Beefheart, Frankie Appaz, John Cage, Salvador Dalí, Lou Albano, Jerome 'Babe' Horwitz and Ayn 'The Lariat' Rand.

And if you know at least four of the names on the above list, you are well on the path towards being a self-important, latte-drinking dolt. Congratulations! I'll be sending out membership forms as soon as possible.

- Zoogz Rift (center) & The Amazing Shitheads

With a discography spanning 27 years and 763 albums, some might suggest that Zoogz Rift tilts a bit towards the prolific. But don't you believe them. Heck, don't even believe me! Don't believe in your television, your dog, your fashion sense, your favorite record reviewers, or your schools; simply believe in yourself.

And the fact that Zoogz Rift is best listened to in self-created mix tape form.

I'm not sure what it is about his music. I own and cherish approximately 10 Rift albums. With the possible exception of Amputees in Limbo (SST Records #122, 1985), I find it very difficult to listen to any of his albums in their entirety. Yet I listen to each of them on a regular basis.

The closest comparison I can make to the music of Rift would be to that of Beefheart, but only on a superficial level. Structurally and lyrically, Rift shares a lot with the good Captain. But while Beefheart & The Magic Band stayed within the blues framework, no matter how far out there they travelled, Zoogz Rift & His Amazing Shitheads veered over a much wider range; jazz, rock, punk, new wave, twerp pop, you name it.

I guess it boils down to the duel edge of eclecticism. If done well - and in small doses, musically eclectic outfits can be a rewarding challenge (see The Suburban Lawns). More so than even the best of straight-forwards. But if you are going to make an entire career out of being as varied as possible, expect a tight rope walk.

And long falls when you take a misstep.

One thing that I can say about Rift and his band that might sell them to those on the fence: Snag Idiots On The Miniature Golf Course (reissue: SST Records #123, 1987) and check out The Great Apes Ate Grapes. Tell me that isn't one of the greatest little songs you've never heard.

On and on, Rift & The Shitheads create some of the more memorable riffs you'll ever get stuck in your head: My Daddy Works for the Secret Marines, Evil Eye (both off Amputees in Limbo), Sit Down & Shut Up (off of Ipecac), Dense Rain-Black Forest and Asphyxiated (from Villagers)...

Wonderful Mix Tape material.

Links of Interest:

* The Official (and crappy) Zoogz Rift website

* Enough Zoogz Rift to choke the Son of Sam's dog - Feelin' Kinda Froggy Blog

* Amputees in Limbo: Deluxe European Edition - Dr. Faustroll Blog

PiL: The Commercial Zone Funhouse

2009-01-06T14:47:00.038-05:00

After releasing Flowers of Romance in October of 1981, Public Image Limited found itself in a state of entropy.

Whether it was darker drugs revealing fangs, John Lydon's lessened involvement due to outside interests, or power plays by both guitarist Keith Levene and on-again-off-again drummer Martin Atkins, the Limited Corporation mirage that all parties had strived so hard to present as viable since their foundation in 1978 threatened to splinter.

Frankly, when one considers all that the band had to go through in their first few years, it is a surprise they survived as long as they had:

* A seemingly never-ending legal tussle between Lydon and former Sex Pistols manager Malcolm McLaren set the table for...

* A crippling lack of funds, which resulted in guerilla production, performance and management methods that more often than not pissed off fans and...

* A hostile press which attacked the band - and in particular Lydon at almost every opportunity. Pay back for Lydon acting such a jerk to them during the Pistols days? You betcha.

- Public Image Ltd., Phase One - (L-R) Keith Levene, Jah Wobble, Johnny Rotten

When you also factor in the loss of founding member and bass sculptor Jah Wobble in 1980, the four baseless police raids in a little over a years time, the infamous American Bandstand, Tom Snyder, and Ritz nightclub appearances - not to mention Warner Brothers Records dropping the band in early 1982 and the band's fateful decision to forgo touring, a state of entropy was probably to be expected.

After all, these were 20-something year old kids on the proverbial chopping block. The most grounded of adults tend to crack under such immense pressures; asking and expecting it of someone so young is a cracked mirror reflection of our own seemingly low-key and unimportant lives.

The 20th century taught us to throw entertainment figures on lavish pedestals. And we complied. Lucky Lindy, Houdini, Frankie, Elvis, Bobby Zimmerman, The Beatles, The Sex Pistols, Little Michael, Madonna, Britney, Princess Diana's Car & Anna Nichole's Corpse... on and on and on; an endless parade of cultural icons for our purchasing pleasure.

You know they are cultural icons because keychains, tee-shirts, and Rolling Stone Magazine would never lie. Would they?

Then again, who is at fault? The con man who sells the snake oil, or the sucker who constantly buys it?

- Commercial Zone: Limited Edition (Front), 1984 - PiL Records Inc. #XYZ007

To the members of Public Image Limited, the snake oil was becoming a hemlock.

The partnership between band (and corporate) visionaries Lydon and Levene began to deteriorate to the point of no return during early 1983. The official story is that arguments over mixing the This is Not a Love Song 7" single (Virgin Records #VS 529, September 1983) would lead to Levene's departure from the group. Of course, He said/She said also points towards Levene's escalating drug problems, Lydon's selling out the 'PiL Ideals', and Atkins' spiteful power plays as the true culprits. Who really knows.

It has been argued that Keith Levene's departure from Public Image Limited significantly impacted the creative output for the remainder of the band's run. Isolationists... er, I mean Purists will even suggest that PiL essentially died with Levene.

Perhaps. Perhaps the charges are nothing more than a case of sour grapes. The same type of sour grapes that saw the PiL debut release and first line-up slandered to high heaven by a large segment of fans as not being 'Punk' enough. And the same type of sour grapes that contemporary Lydon champions chew on during their 'Never Judge Eras' slants.

It is always best to judge for oneself.

- This is What You Want...This is What You Get (Front), 1984 - Virgin Records #V2309

Five of the recordings that the band had been working on at the time of Levene's departure would eventually be rerecorded for the eventual (and official) This is What You Want... This is What You Get album (released: July, 1984).

In a preemptive strike, Levene would release the original recordings in the United States as Commercial Zone in November of 1983. In August of the following year - and a month after This is What You Want... was released, Levene pressed 30,000 copies of the tweaked Commercial Zone: Limited Edition long player for European release.

Lydon and Virgin Records, Public Image Limited's record company at the time, were not pleased. Virgin going so far as to order all pressings of Commercial Zone: Limited Edition destroyed.

Thankfully enough copies of the album survived, as it offers fascinating contrast to the 'official' releases of the immediate post-Levene period -- This is What You Want... and the Live in Tokyo album, which was recorded mere months after Levene left.

- Live in Tokyo (Front), 1983 - Virgin Records # VGD3508

One suggestion: Follow the link, check out the blog that hosts it, then download Live in Toyko. Afterwards, burn the mp3s onto a compact disc and promptly throw it out of a window. Or force your Hannah Montana loving daughter to listen to it as punishment.

It is about the only satisfaction you'll be able to muster after listening to such crap.

If you dig it, so be it. Who am I to question anyone else's opinions.

I could end this with a joke about how it doesn't matter what you think, because everyone knows that PiL died after Wobble left; thereby making the entire piece a contradictory farce.

Haha! Isn't that a riot?

Just like Johnny Rotten!!

Links of Interest:

* Fodderstompf -- A Communications Company. Not a website.

* Commercial Zone (U.S. Pressing) -- Commercial Zone Blog

* This Is What You Want... & Live in Toyko -- kaR4aGin Blog

* The Ritz Nightclub Riot! -- The Mayfly

Note: As an example of the emotions that Public Image Limited brought out in people, I've thrown out a link to the infamous Ritz nightclub riot. I've pieced together various sources in an effort to replicate the events of the evening in as accurate form as possible.

Enjoy.

King Sunny Adé & His African Beats

2009-01-02T13:11:00.040-05:00

- Juju Music (Front), 1981 - Island Records #ILPS 9712

After the death of Bob Marley, certain record executives began scratching their heads in effort to replicate the money-making potential that a 'Voice of the Third World' could provide. Granted, Marley never lit up the charts during his lifetime - but what did that matter? Money was to be had.

They tried the living Wailers - and various other reggae talents, but that didn't work.

Peter Tosh's stance on the shit-stem would never allow it. Bunny Wailer was too square. Prince Far-I was too Heavy. Burning Spear was too... well, I'm not sure why Burning Spear never caught on. If anyone had a legit shot at chasing Marley's Ghost, it would have been Winston Rodney. Too bad the sheer quality of the man's work diminished after Marley passed.

Nope. The suits decided to turn towards Africa itself.

Who is more Third World than Africa, Bud?

Um... I don't know. Parts of Asia seem pretty bad.

Yeah. But you can't shake your ass to xylophones and gongs.

Why not, Bob? My wife shakes her ass to lasagna cooking!

Ha Ha! No, seriously...

Arista Records opened the door by signing Nigerian Afrobeat sensation Fela Kuti. Not to be outdone - and to forever prove to the world just how innovative they were, Island Records' Chris Blackwell, in turn, signed Nigerian Jùjú star King Sunny Adé.

The clever little marketing execs had all bases covered, going so far as to dub Sunny Adé the 'African Bob Marley'. Record reviewers would soon follow suit.

Too bad neither of them helped the cause.

Whether or not it had to do with slumping sales figures, failed expectations or - as reported, Adé's refusal to include English into his music, Island Records would cut ties with him in 1984 after three powerful long-players.

Say what you will about moronic record executives, but the short-lived marriage between King Sunny Adé and the mainstream produced brilliance; the Juju Music, Synchro System, and Aura albums are now considered Adé's trinity.

- Aura (Front), 1983 - Island Records UK #ILPS 9746

While those three albums are an excellent place to start, Adé's self-released Ijinle Odu (1982) and Ajoo (1983) brings the jùjú picture into better focus for the uninitiated.

Someone once said that if you listen to King Sunny Adé & His African Beats and do not find yourself bopping to the rhythms, you must be dead.

Or chronically white.

Nope. No angst here.

Links of Interest:

* King Sunny Adé Discography

* Juju Music, 1981 -- Bravo Juju Blog

* Ijinle Odu, 1982 -- Snap, Crackle & Pop Blog

* Synchro System & Aura, 1983 -- Rho-Xs Blog

* Ajoo, 1983 -- No Condition is Permanent Blog

Trees Talking Heads, 1979-82

2008-12-27T12:31:00.061-05:00

If you consider solo and side projects of a particular band, you can trace their lineage much like a family tree.

For example, take the Beatles:

Being the Beatles, you can assume the family tree is going to be strong.

The Beatles > George Harris' Son > Ringo Starski > Polio McCartney > Chum Lemon > Traveling Wilburys (ugh) > Wings > Plastic Ono Band > etc.

You could argue the case that further branches would spring off for everyone involved with the Wilburys and Plastic Ono Band, but for the sake of brevity (haha!), I did not bother.

(L-R) Chris Frantz, Tina Weymouth, David Byrne, Jerry Harrison (with Residents shirt!)

One of the strongest of music family trees would be Talking Heads. The sheer quality of output amongst band members and offshoots - especially during their peak period of 1979-82, rivals that of anything put against it.

1979s dark and paranoid Fear of Music, Talking Heads' third long player, shifted the band's path towards sheer brilliance. Produced by Brian Eno, the album would feature Robert Fripp's guitar work on the opening track, 'I Zimbra'. Interestingly enough, the same track - in addition to 'Life During Wartime', highlights both Ari Up of The Slits and actor Gene Wilder on congas.

That's right! Gene Wilder.

The Beatles never had Wily Wonka on congas, now - did they?

Note: I am focusing on the '79-82 period of the band because it was not until 1979 that Talking Heads progressed beyond sounding like New York legends, Come On.

Everyone knows that.

First live performance with Jerry Harrison (far left) - CBGBs, New York City

Eno would once again take the helm for the Talking Heads' fourth and arguably greatest album, 1980's polyrhythmic masterpiece Remain in Light. The album would include former Frank Zappa and David Bowie guitar virtuoso Adrian Belew, former Labelle powerhouse Nona Hendryx on backing vocals, and future Power Station frontman Robert Palmer on percussion.

To realize the complexity of the music for the supporting tour, the band would expand its line-up to include Belew, Hendryx, former Parliament-Funkadelic keyboardist Bernie Worrell, bassist Busta Jones, backing singer Dolette McDonald, and percussionist Steve Scales - all very highly skilled musicians in their own right.

This line-up, as well as the early 4-piece band, was featured on 1982's double live album, The Name of This Band is Talking Heads. Like all of the Talking Heads discography, the album did not chart well. It did, however, receive stunning accolades - many hailing it as the greatest 'official' live album ever produced.

(L-R) Chris Frantz, David Byrne, Jerry Harrison, Tina Weymouth

During the layoff between 1980's Remain in Light and 1983's Speaking in Tongues studio albums, each of these musicians - in addition to tragically forgotten R&B drummer and session hero Yogi Horton, would strongly contribute to the various Talking Heads' solo material:

* David Byrne would score Twyla Tharp's avant-dance production, The Catherine Wheel (Byrne, Worrell, Belew, Frantz, Eno, Harrison, Scales, McDonald, Horton). He would then partner with Eno for the brilliant My Life in the Bush of Ghosts (Byrne, Eno, Frantz, Jones, Scales). Both stunningly good albums.

* Jerry Harrison would release the terribly underrated The Red and The Black (Harrison, Belew, Worrell, Scales, Hendryx, McDonald, Horton). At the time, the more ridiculous of criticisms of the album was that it was nothing more than a Remain in Light rehash. Hogwash. Considering how involved Harrison was in the creative process of Talking Heads, it makes complete sense that his solo material would incorporate similar soundscapes.

And while it is slightly out of the focused-upon time period, in 1984 Harrison would collaborate with Bootsy Collins for the superb 5 Minutes EP as Bonzo Goes to Washington. I've included it here, as it is so darned hard to find these days.

* Husband and wife team Chris Frantz and Tina Weymouth would form Tom Tom Club, releasing their self-titled debut LP (Frantz, Weymouth, Belew) in 1981. The album would spawn one of the more sampled tracks in all of hip-hop history, Genius of Love.

* Adrian Belew would spin his work with the Talking Heads into a ride with Robert Fripp's King Crimson, who would release the excellent (and Talking Heads-like) Discipline. Afterwards Belew would release his acclaimed (and Talking Heads-like) debut, Lone Rhino.

* And in keeping with the spirit of the post, we've also got Nona Hendryx's 1983 second album, Nona (Scales, Worrell, Weymouth). As with Bonzo Goes to Washington, it does tip-toe out of the time frame. However, the middle-of-the-road 80s R&B on Nona puts a deserved spotlight on a truly wonderful singer.

Enjoy.

As always, all thanks go to the original posters of this material.

And all comments welcomed. Ingrates.

Talking Heads:

Fear of Music, 1979 -- Art of Modern Rock Blog

Remain in Light, 1980 -- Tsururadio Blog (Vinyl recording!)

Updated Link:

Remain in Light Flac Lossless format -- FlacLossLess Blog

The Name of this band is Talking Heads, 1982 -- The Heat Warps Blog

David Byrne:

The Catherine Wheel soundtrack, 1981 -- The Heat Warps Blog

My Life in the Bush of Ghosts (with Brian Eno), 1981 -- Random Link

Jerry Harrison:

The Red and the Black, 1981 -- The amazing Rho-Xs Blog

Bonzo Goes to Washington - 5 Minutes EP, 1984 -- Mayfly Link

Chris Frantz & Tina Weymouth:

Tom Tom Club, 1981 -- Same as Above: Rho-Xs Blog

Adrian Belew:

King Crimson's Discipline, 1981 -- 2000 Mustangs Blog

Lone Rhino, 1982 -- DJ Koppig Blog

Nona Hendryx:

Nona, 1982 -- Quiet! There's a Lady on Stage Blog

Master of the Flying Guillotine Soundtrack

2008-12-26T11:07:00.021-05:00

Killing Fung Sheng Wu Chi's disciples is a good way to lose one's head

Today we've got the soundtrack to one of the greatest Kung Fu movies ever made: 1977's Master of the Flying Guillotine.

I must admit that I have never been much of a fan of kung fu movies. Thanks to the local B-Movie hosts of my Midwestern childhood, I have seen my share over the years. However, much like Spaghetti Westerns and Samurai flicks, I've never really been blown away enough to seek them out.

I am even less of a fan of movie soundtracks. Sure, there are good ones out there; Anton Karas' The Third Man and Ennio Morricone's Once Upon a Time in the West soundtracks being two of the more memorable - but I've never really seen the point of listening to movie scores.

Sometimes, though, things inevitably converge to produce brilliance.

Or, as is the case of the soundtrack to Master of the Flying Guillotine, it is stolen.

The single baddest man in cinema: the Master of the Flying Guillotine

Several months ago a co-worker traded me a handful of movies that he thought I might like; 3 based on the Lovecraft mythos and 5 kung fu flicks. I'm not sure why he felt I would like kung fu movies - unless, perhaps, it was my off-hand comment to him about my not being cool enough to watch Tarantino movies.

Regardless, who was I to complain? The guy was kind enough to bother in the first place.

Impressed by his high praise of the movie, the first one I ended up watching was Master of the Flying Guillotine; aka The One Armed Boxer vs. the Flying Guillotine; aka One-Armed Boxer 2

Ah, those crazy movie distributors...

During the superb prologue where the blind master of the flying guillotine is introduced, I was struck by the brilliance of the villain's ominous and strangely electronic theme. By the time the opening credits backing track started playing, I was flat-out stunned.

Chinese industrial music? Wha...?

Oops! Wrong one-armed guy.

I immediately turned to my wife and in as few choice words as possible stated my utter disbelief.

Was China this progressive in the 70s?

Wait a minute. Is that an electric guitar?

Her response was a yawn. Considering I not-so-secretly feel she uses most of my interests as a cheap sleep aid, I wasn't too surprised. As a matter of fact, she ended up falling asleep shortly after.

Anyway, I paused the disc at the appropriate place:

Music by... Hsun Chi Chen?

Holy crap! Who knew?

"I don't care who he was. I intend to kill every one-armed man that I come across..."

While I might be as ignorant as the next sap, it turns out my suspicions were correct.

After researching the movie on the interdweeb, I found that the killer tunes at the beginning of the flick were unauthorized cuts by the krautrock band Neu! ('Super' and 'Super 16', off the Neu! 2 album). On top of that, whoever assembled the backing tracks to the movie also illegally used snippets of Tangerine Dream and Kraftwerk.

Eh...

I should have known. Commies don't do electric guitars.

Links of Interest:

* The Soundtrack

* IMDb entry

Note: I've compiled the krautrock tracks. In addition, I've thrown in some audio bits from the movie that I found out there and placed them in logical order. Enjoy!

Jah Wobble Steps Out

2008-12-22T14:15:00.043-05:00

I often wonder what the 'average person' (whatever that means) feels about music. I mean... do they feel anything when listening? Or is it just... well, there?

Ask someone why they like what they are listening to, and you'll more often than not get a well thought out, 'I just do!' in return.

I can respect that. After all, the arts are nothing more than any other form of entertainment out there; a distraction from complex and sometimes difficult lives. Whether that distraction from Every Day Life is mindless - or thought-provoking, in the end it is still a distraction.

To a lot of us, music is a mindless entertainment. To some, it is a Psalm. Or a means of catharsis.

To bassist Jah Wobble, music was a life raft.

- Steel Leg V. The Electric Dread - Virgin Records #VS239, 1978

Childhood friends with both John Lydon (Johnny Rotten) and John Ritchie (Sid Vicious), John Wardle was in the eye of the emerging punk hurricane in the United Kingdom. In 1978, a shared appreciation of anger, alcohol, reggae and a subsequent interest in the bass guitar made Wardle an ideal choice as cornerstone to Lydon's second band, Public Image Limited (PiL).

It was a role in which the drunkenly christened Jah Wobble would thrive.

"No one listened to bass in rock music before PiL…"

- John Lydon

From 1978's debut 7" single, Public Image b/w Cowboy Song (Virgin #VS228, October 1978), until the sessions that would result in the Trout Mask Replica of its day, the Metal Box album (Virgin Metal 1, November 1979), Jah Wobble's low-end dubby bass lines would dominate the early sound of PiL. So much so, in fact, that when Wobble departed the band in mid 1980, PiL - rather than replace the bass in the equation, focused on the huge drum sounds that would define the Flowers of Romance album.

Even out of the band, Wobble's shadow cast heavy on PiL.

And if you believe the myth that Phil Collins enjoyed the Flowers of Romance drum sound enough to incorporate it into his own chart-topping material, we can add the dreck that is Phil Collins' solo career to Wobble's achievements.

Thanks, Mr. Wardle. We all owe you for that one. Jerk...

- The Legend Lives On... Jah Wobble in 'Betrayal' - Virgin Records #V2158, 1980

Prior to leaving Public Image Limited - and in the spirit of the early philosophy of a PiL Umbrella system that allowed each of the band members avenues to release their own material, Wobble, along with noted DJ Don Letts and fellow PiL member Keith Levene (billed here as Stratetime Keith), contributed to the Steel Leg v. The Electric Dread 12" EP (Virgin #VS239-12, December 1978).

Oddly released the same month as Public Image Limited's First Issue debut, Steel Leg V. The Electric Dread is an enjoyable four song reggae-based album. Well... three, if you subtract the first punk track, the aptly titled 'Steel Leg'. Frankly, I'd rather set my eyes on fire than have to listen to that one ever again. It is a terrible, terrible cut.

Thankfully, the reggae goodness that is Electric Dread scores a clean knock-out in this battle.

In addition to several 12" solo EPs, Wobble would also release the solid The Legend Lives On... Jah Wobble in Betrayal (Virgin #V2158, May 1980) solo LP before splitting Rotten and Company in an acrimonious hail of well-publicized (and possibly gimmicked) ill will.

Interestingly enough, two tracks on Betrayal were accused as being unauthorized use of PiL background material by the remaining members of the band. It is true that Blueberry Hill (track 3) and Not Another (track 4) do incorporate PiL riddims (bass and drum rhythm patterns) - in this case The Suit and Another, both from the Metal Box album. However, Wobble has always stated that he had simply done what reggae producers have done forever; that is, reusing riddims for other songs.

Makes sense to me. Obviously not to the rest of PiL.

568 albums later, Jah Wobble stands as a survivor.

Having quit drinking in 1986, thanks to the Alcoholics Anonymous 12-Step Program, Wobble has since chased the ever-elusive muse with a determination that makes even the most prolific blush. Whether it has been backing William Blake poems, paying homage to Car Ads and Elevator Music, or birthing dub lines seeking spiritual fulfillment, one of the constant themes of Jah Wobble's thirty year discography is that there is no constant.

And that exploration, self-assessment, and a dedicated drive to fulfill one's potential are the keys.

Bass just happens to be the man's car.

Praise, Jah!

Links of Interest:

* The Legend Lives On - Jah Wobble in 'Betrayal' -- Rho-Xs blog

* Steel Leg Vs The Electric Dread 12" -- To Live and Shave in LA blog

* The Human Condition, Live in Europe 1981 -- Mutant Sounds blog

Public Image Limited

2008-12-20T11:58:00.066-05:00

- First Issue (Front), 1978 - Virgin Records #V2114

One of the more important and fertile periods of music history was the 8-year stretch between 1975 and 1982. Other than the 1963-1970 generational gash, I doubt any other era can state as strong of a case.

And frankly, remove Dylan and the Beatles from the sixties equation, and what would you have had?

Without Dylan, Ricky Nelson might have been the guy everyone wanted to emulate. And were it not for the Beatles proving that a band (a British band, no less) could successfully write and perform their own compositions, Elvis and his increasingly sanitized Roustabout-like soundtracks could very well have dominated and shaped the American pop music landscape.

You can argue that someone else would have stepped into the roles that Dylan and the Beatles played. But that would just extend this here rant. And no one wants that.

No... I'm sticking with the '75-82 period as my favorite. Nostalgia, after all, is my drug of choice.

At the forefront of that era, in my humble opinion, is Public Image Limited.

Formed in 1978 by former The Mama's & The Papa's crooner Johnny Rotten after the cheated ending of that band during a San Francisco Hippy Day Parade float mishap, Public Image Limited were not a band, curse you! They were a multi-media corporation that posed as a band.

When the drugs ran out.

And the last original corporation member resigned his seat in 1982.

Only then could they be called a band.

At that point Public Image Limited were bought out by John Lydon, former mastermind behind the Archies and the Banana Splits. The "band" would go on to release some interesting material until the late 80s, when Lydon mysteriously and unexpectedly announced that Public Image Limited were to go on temporary hiatus.

Lydon's attention would be diverted by the Reunion Craze of the 1990s, which allowed him to reform Spinal Tap for the lackluster 'Gimme Some Money' tours. He would then devote the next ten years working on his acclaimed solo album, Psycho's Path (released in 1997) - which would garner him multiple Grammys and a permanent position as butter spokesman of the United Kingdom.

It's really a heart-warming story. And it is also quite a Prindle.

- (L-R) Jah Wobble (bass), Keith Levene (g.), Jim Walker (d.), Johnny Rotten (v.)

Early Period Public Image Limited

For my money, from the 1978 debut album, First Issue, to their third album, Flowers of Romance in 1981, Public Image Limited (PiL) were one of the most challenging, exciting and innovative bands of their - or any other era. With a fierce rhythm section dominated by Jah Wobble's snorting rhino bass, Keith Levene's space metal guitar work and Johnny Rotten's caustic and right-on lyrics, there were very few that could top them.

And they'll be the first to tell you!

The media doesn’t give a fuck like that now... Though a lot of people talk about ‘Metal Box’ these days and they don’t get it wrong, they know we put out a serious fucking record. And I dare anyone who’s into music to listen to the first record and tell me it’s not a great first record, for any band.
- Keith Levene, Fodderstompf interview, 2003

... what is not understood is it’s took people a long time to catch up to what we were doing in the first three or four albums. And now that period from us has somehow managed to have been blended into modern culture, but they don’t understand what came after. What came after was us going into ‘Pop structure’, in a deadly serious way and restructuring the concept of a pop song. Which was great fun, and just as important to us as anything else, and it’s not for anyone to say ‘That’s not as good as’ it IS PiL, and it’s beyond judgement, it is what it is, and it is honest and it’s not done for any other fucking reason.
- John Lydon, Fodderstompf interview, 2004

They were sitting about the Manor [Studio] all day, and I was going and doing stuff and saying look I've done some stuff do you want it? So I started working on my own stuff, I'd have been happy working on PiL stuff, I just wanted to work. Because I'm starting to play, I love it! I've been on the dole. All I wanted to do was play with this fucking group, and I still feel like that, you've got to get out and do stuff, what's the point of sitting at home if you can go out and play to people, that's what you do. So I got very frustrated...
- Jah Wobble, Fodderstompf interview, 1999

'Low life' and 'Attack' were meant to be properly made songs. But recorded in a basement dungeon of a demo track studio. No live drum sound everything done on the cheap. Appalling result. 'Fodderstomph', the same sad sick story. Not even a song just a wank. Ripping off our fans. It still turns my stomach thinking about it. Same story with the 'Cowboy Song' .One decent track for the price of two. PiL were in effect mocking those who were feeding us. Our fans. I hated this sort of rubbish but by then I had given up hope for PiL.
- Jim Walker, Fodderstompf interview, 2001

Er...

It would not surprise me if music critics someday rank PiL on the same level as the Velvet Underground: Influential to everyone that happened to buy into them - yet considering their inability to crack into the public consciousness, a complete and total failure.

And as is typical in pop culture, PiL's failure was generally better than the greatest of successes.

No doubt, Public Image Limited is a tough pil to swallow...

HAHA! Tough PiL to swallow? That one never gets old. Kind of like the one about Sid Vicious. You know... 'He made a stab at the top, but hit Nancy instead!'

... but like PiL's direct ancestors, Germany's Can and Neu! and Venus' favorite son Captain Beefheart, once the myth is stripped away, you are left with a rewarding listening experience.

As they should have said on American Bandstand, 'It's got a good beat and I can trance to it!'

- Flowers of Romance (Front), 1981 - Virgin Records #V2189

So why was PiL such a failure?

Because whether it relates to silly entertainment figures or each and every one of us, wasted potential is one of the bitterest of failures.

From their formation in 1978 through 1981, the band released 5 7" singles, 3 12" singles, 4 long players (if you include the Paris Au Printemps live album), and played a grand total of 22 shows (with two cancellations). 7 of those 22 concerts in the first two years!

Think about that. 22 shows. In 4 years.

Good luck trying to destroy rock and roll from the comfort of your shooting dens, guys.

That more people did not have the opportunity to experience such a brilliant band live is a rotten shame. The potential to influence a countless amount of young people was wasted. And if anyone could have influenced them, it would have been that first line-up of Wobble, Levene, Lydon, and a power drummer of the week.

They were that good.

Links of Interest:

* Fodderstompf - The one stop source of all things PiL. Excellent.

* First Issue - Hong Kong Gardens Blog. Superb.

* Plastic Box (PiL Box set) - Jake & Elwoods Greatest Hits Blog

* Metal Box (second album) - Baratomusical Blog

* Paris Au Printemps (Live album w. Wobble) - kaR4aGin Blog

Note: The Plastic Box set is probably all you really need, considering their first and third albums are represented in their entirety here (save one cut from First Issue, which I have also linked). I included a link to Metal Box; i.e., Second Edition - their second album, as it is not represented as strongly on the box set. And you really need to hear it. Jah Wobble is in his glory. Typical of PiL, it would be Wobble's last album with the group before he quit in disgust. Or got fired for stealing backing tracks for 'unauthorized' solo material. Whomever you believe. Regardless, Wobble's departure would hasten the band's descent into safer and shallower waters. The Idiots...

The Mayfly: An Introduction

2008-12-18T17:52:00.010-05:00

With a life-span between 30 minutes and one day, I've long considered the mayfly as a wonderful symbol of humanity. Geologically speaking, our 70-year life spans are but blinks of an eye. And just like the mayfly, we, too, seem to revolve our existence around reproduction, rest, and an anticipation of death.

Plus... as I was born on May Day, it just seems to fit.

Being 38, I figure my internal clock is reading 3:15 PM.

15 hours down. 9 hours to go.

With memories to spare...

The Slits

2008-12-14T21:44:00.066-05:00

It has always fascinated me that the more artistic and experimental of the Punk-New Wave personalities have been women. While I do consider Patti Smith and Siouxsie Sioux boring and overrated (though influential), others such as Su Tissue of the Suburban Lawns, Poly Styrene of X-Ray Spex, Exene Cervenka of X, and Alice Bag of the Bags stand as perfect representatives of what made punk interesting to me in the first place: the expression of individualism.

Of course punk would go on to becoming as marketed, conforming and irrelevant as beatniks, hippies, and any other status quo-challenging movement that slips into the mainstream.

But that's another story.

- Early Slits, (L-R), Viv Albertine, Ari Up (Arianne Forster), Tessa Pollitt, Palmolive (Paloma Romero)

One of the more intriguing of punk bands, at least in my eyes, was The Slits (1976-81, 2006-Present).

Their importance to me isn't so much that they were among the first wave of the U.K. punk movement, nor that they were one of the first all-female punk bands on the scene. More so, I appreciate them for what they would become.

As was typical of too many early punk bands, the inability to actually play their instruments never stopped the original Slits line-up from giving it the old college try - as documented on the In the Beginning and Peel Sessions collections.

While I understand that the early version of the Slits are well regarded amongst the punk brigade, I just don't see the allure.

Frankly, the presentation of an all-girl punk band was simply not enough compensation for having to listen to such garage-like misery.

Or was it?

Music, after all, was not the point.

As strange as it might sound these days, the Slits were a dangerous band. Their antics rivaled those of the dastardly Sex Pistols; physically attacking other bands, destroying innocent cars, public flashings of the 'naughty bits' that we bourgeois love to tittle-tattle over tasteless microwave dishes - anything to shock and outrage conservatives, feminists, and pseudo-hipsters, alike.

- (L-R), Bruce Smith, Tessa Pollitt, Viv Albertine, Ari Up

Late era Slits, NME photo sessions by Anton Corbijn

One (loooooooong) look at the Cut album cover reveals all we need to know about the Slits' politics.

Um, yeah.

It must be noted that lead singer Ari Up has always been interesting. Her vocal style has been described as 'exotically distinct', even during the early (and sometimes painful) caterwauling stage.

However, the overall package was a tough pill to swallow.

From a musical perspective, it is no surprise it took the band so long to sign to a record label.

From a social perspective, it is a surprise they got a record deal at all.

- (L-R) Ari Up (vocals), Tessa Pollitt (bass), Viv Albertine (guitar)

But then a funny thing happened.

As punk fell by the wayside and post-punk emerged from the ashes, Tessa Pollitt and Viv Albertine would not only learn to play their instruments, they would excel at them. The band became bored with punk, replaced founding member Palmolive with drummer extraordinaire Budgie, fell under the production wings of Dennis 'Blackbeard' Bovell, and released two experimental (and amazing) dub-style albums to little fanfare - before fizzling out as a unit in 1981.

It figures. The experimental nature of Cut (Island ILPS #9873, September 1979) and Return of the Giant Slits (CBS #85269, October 1981) did the band in, as far as their marketability. Yet it is that very same experimental nature that made me a fan in the first place.

- (L-R) Viv Albertine, Tessa Pollitt, Ari Up

So why are the Slits important to me?

The Clash may have dabbled - and John Lydon may have been an authority on the subject, but the Slits (in addition to Jah Wobble) were the ones to open my eyes (er... ears) to the greatness of dub and reggae. Sure, there has been and always will be Bob Marley & The Wailers - but beyond that, I had no clue as to the depth and brilliance of the genre.

Without the music of the Slits - and in particular Tessa Pollitt's rumbling bass lines, I doubt I would have gone beyond Marley's Legend.

Thanks, Tessa.

Links of Interest:

* In the Beginning - Borx's Ups Blog

* Cut - Commercial Zone Blog (Highly Recommended)

* Return of the Giant Slits - The Eighties... Blog

* The Slits Peel Sessions - Champagne Blog

Updated Link: Cut @320kbps! - Hong Kong Gardens Blog

Suburban Lawns

2008-12-13T13:21:00.057-05:00

Compartmentalizing is the only way to fathom the outside world.

Mom is a Spawn Point. Dad is a Seed Pouch.

Hippies were Hygiene Imbalanced. Kids are Genetic Carriers.

Wives are Pornography Substitutes. Husbands are Stunted Children.

I am an Idiot.

You get the picture.

Genre-tagging is even better.

Just ask every record reviewer and insecure fan out there. They'll tell you.

genre |ˈzh änrə|
noun
a category of artistic composition, as in music or literature, characterized by similarities in form, style, or subject matter.

tag |tag|
noun
1 a label attached to someone or something for the purpose of identification or to give other information.

Suburban Lawns (1978-83), eccentric No... er, New Wave Avant Art Post Punk Rockers from Long Beach, California, caused a minor splash in 1979-80 with their quirky 'Gidget Goes to Hell' single. Featured on Saturday Night Live and Night Flight during the early 80s - and name-checked by noted zither picker Frank Appaz as the only punk single of note, the band was strangely unable to capitalize on the golden goose exposure.

Such is the fickle nature of the entertainment beast.

- (L-R) Vex Billingsgate (bass), Su Tissue (vocals), John Gleur (guitar), c.1981

Perhaps lead singer Su Tissue's Nico-friendly Ice Princess stage presence was too jagged for the 80s kids to dance to. Perhaps featuring Su Tissue straight-through, rather than having her sharing vocal duties with guitarist Frankie Ennui and bassist Vix Billingsgate, would have sharpened the hook of the gimmick. Perhaps the band became too wedged in the genre cracks for record executives and their marketing departments to swallow; Were they an Art Band? Wacky New Wavers? Punks?

They sound new wave, Bob.

Kids seem to buy new wave. It's the future.

I don't know, Don. How many units did Devo push last month?

And what's with the skirt? Is she German, or something?

German doesn't sell.

- Drawing of Su Tissue by Mark Vallen (pencil), Slash Magazine 1979

Were I to venture a guess, I would say they were too schizo for public consumption. Their music veered all over the new wave herding range - jumping from Devoesqe to X-Ray Spexish to shades of The Specials' ska... with Tissue supplied vocals that combined Yoko Ono warbles, Ari Up hiccups, and Nina Hagen pronunciations.

And that's just the first album.

(Look Ma, I'm a record reviewer!!)

In other words, they were great.

I'm a Janitor. Oh my genitals. Oh my genitals. I'm a Janitor.

All action is reaction. Expansion. Contraction.
Man the manipulator.

Underwater. Does it matter? Antimatter. Nuclear Reactor...
Boom boom boom boom.

I guess everything is irrelative.

- Janitor

After the 80's Compilation gravestone Gidget Goes to Hell was planted, the band would self-release another single, 'Janitor' b/w 'Protection' (Suburban Industrial #02, 1980), before signing with I.R.S. Records for a full-length self-titled LP, 'Suburban Lawns' (IRS #SP70024, 1981), and a swan-song EP, 'Baby' (IRS #70503, 1983).

During the hiatus between 'Suburban Lawns' and 'Baby', Su Tissue recorded an excellent piano & voice solo EP in 1982, Salon De Musique.

To further confuse the issue, Tissue's solo work is as far out (and different) than anything the Suburban Lawns recorded. It is also just as good.

And that is where the vinyl trail goes cold.

- Gidget Goes to Hell/My Boyfriend 7" single, Suburban Industrial #01, 1979

A highly recommended band. It is very rare when a musician's eclecticism pays off. Suburban Lawns are one of the few. Their work is at first confounding - but once you allow it to sink in, you'll soon find yourself bopping in appreciation.

I would suggest going through their discography in chronological order, if only to chart their progression as artists. But you can not go wrong either way.

At the very least, perhaps you'll find them worthy enough to share with your friends.

Links of Interest:

* Mr. Bill's I.R.S. Records Corner entry on Suburban Lawns

* Gidget Goes to Hell 7" single - New Wave Tunes Blog

* Suburban Lawns - Self-Titled full length, 1981 (@320 kbps)

* Suburban Lawns - Baby EP

(Above albums courtesy of the Sound Opinions message board)

* Su Tissue - Salon De Musique, 1982 - DualTrack Blog

Hüsker Dü (1981-84)

2008-12-12T13:03:00.057-05:00

So what's your favorite band?

I'm sure we have all heard (and asked) that question more times than we can count. To many people, it ranks right up there with 'What's your favorite color?'

I don't know about you, but that's always a tough one for me to honestly answer. Over the years my alliances have shifted back and forth so many times, I would be hard pressed to name but one.

As a kid, it would have been The Monkees (I thought Mike Nesmith was the coolest person on the planet Davy Jones? Not so much...). For sheer longevity, I would have to say Talking Heads. Or maybe Public Image Limited. For a year or so I would have pointed towards the Dead Kennedys - perhaps even the Minutemen. Maybe The Residents? If asked during the past couple of years, I would have to side with Captain Beefheart.

One of the bands I have championed the longest (besides Talking Heads and PiL) would be Hüsker Dü. Not to be confused with Hūsker Dū.

- Hüsker Dü logo; 3 Individuals United... until they break up

Forming in the Minneapolis-St. Paul section of Minnesota (home of Mary Richards and Nick Bockwinkel) during 1979, Bob Mould (guitar, vocals), Grant Hart (drums, vocals), and Greg Norton (bass) would blaze a molten trail through the American underground until disintegrating in spectacularly messy fashion in late 1987.

The first time I heard Hüsker Dü was through my Uncle Larry (Donald to you - and almost everyone else) in... I want to say 1984. The tape, Everything Falls Apart, blew my fourteen year old sensibilities away. No surprises there, really; the record is considered by many to be a classic in whatever genre you toss it in.

You see, I took everything Larry allowed me to listen to very seriously.

His influence on me was absolute - even though he probably has no clue as to the extent. Being close to ten years my senior, I'm sure he saw me as nothing more than a twerp kid. And we all know how annoying twerp kids can be.

I, on the other hand, saw Larry as a doorway to something 'More'.

At a time when I was formulating whatever identity I would later go on to have, the man hipped me to so many things: movies, television, video games, music - even cereal (Quisp forever, Captain Crunch never!). With him, it wasn't enough to simply play the music for me, or help waste quarters at the local 7-11, or to eat the cereal with me. No, Larry would explain why whatever it was we were doing was valuable; it was never 'Because I say so!'

Every kid needs an Uncle Larry in their lives.

- March 12, 1987. Lakewood, Ohio. It sucked. Thanks, Lar.

Hüsker Dü provided me with many firsts.

* Shortly after that 'listening session', I snagged the just-released Zen Arcade on vinyl as one of my first record purchases (along with Talking Heads' Remain in Light and Public Image Limited's self-titled first release).

It was love at first listen; I had begun to expand.

* They were the first band I could self-importantly toss out to friends as one of the 'Great Unknowns'. None of them ended up liking Hüsker Dü, but that never stopped me from trying.

* One of the first concerts I went to was going to see Hüsker Dü promote their Warehouse: Songs and Stories album. Mould, Hart, and Norton were solid, yet uninspired. They played the entire album, first cut to last, with two encores: Zen Arcade's Reoccurring Dreams and Chartered Trips. Talk about a let down. As Larry's good friend Joe remarked, 'I could have stayed home, closed my eyes and listened to the damn thing!'

And he was right. Bob Mould still owes me $9.00.

* One of the first times I groped a chick's breast was during a make-out session while listening to Land Speed Record. I've never been able to look at the album in the same light.

* The first time I got drunk, I ended up serenading a girl I was crazy about with a sloppy version of Flip Your Wig's 'Green Eyes'. She wasn't impressed. Nor were any of the other people in her apartment building I woke up that morning.

- Forever to remind me of breasts. Thanks, Margie.

Oh, the band?

Let's just say that in the mid 80s, there were two college radio darlings that everyone expected to break into the mainstream: REM and Hüsker Dü. And I thought Hüsker Dü was the better of the two.

There were several phases to the band. Much like the several phases that all of us go through in life. Starting off as angry and speed fueled, Hüsker Dü would travel faster than just about every band before them. Bob Mould's guitar sound, innovative still, was that of steel melting. Youthful passion personified.

Following 1984's Zen Arcade, the band's material would mature for the sake of melody.

And heroin use.

But that's another story.

Phase One...

Links of Interest:

* The Hüsker Dü Database

* Land Speed Record, 1982 - A Day Without a Record Blog

* Everything Falls Apart and More, 1983 - Punk Not Profit Blog

* Metal Circus & Zen Arcade, 1983/84 - Bloody Revolutions Blog

Come On (New York City, 1976-80)

2008-12-06T19:42:00.068-05:00

One of the greatest albums of the 1970s, Television's 'Marquee Moon' (1977) went practically unheard in the United States. It took the music scribes of Britain to point out to the rest of the world Television's near brilliance.

30-something years later, publications such as Bowling Stoned and Entertaining Weakly hail the album (and band) as, 'Regrettably Unknown, Yet Vastly Influential'.

I Hate Disneyland. Mickey didn't shake my hand.
Mickey Mouse is a Rat. Mickey Mouse is a Rat!

- Disneyland

In the case of New York's Come On, I doubt anyone is going to ride out and save them from obscurity anytime soon.

Which only goes to show you: For every one highly regarded band in the mainstream or on the outskirts, there will be ten equally talented unknowns lurking to be discovered.

Top, L-R: Page Wood (Drums), Elena Glasberg (Guitar), George Elliot (Guitar)

Bot, L-R: Jamie Kaufman (Vocals), Ralf Mann (Bass)

If you happen to stumble across reviews of Come On, you'll inevitably run into Talking Heads comparisons. So many, in fact, it is no wonder so few have heard of them.

Why bother with wannabes? We've already got Mr. Byrne and The Rest!

If that doesn't cause you to turn your head and cough, perhaps the genre-tagging of Come On by reviewers will: Angular Art-Rock, No/New Wave, Post-Punk, minimalist, New York Punk, Underground Pop, Asexual White Soul Dance Music, blah, blah, blah...

Old People. Get out of the House. Get out in the Streets.
Turn over Cars. Elbow Young People. Set Garbage on Fire.

- Old People

Do not get me wrong - the comparisons to early Talking Heads are valid.

Both feature spastic lead singers/lyricists. Both feature women in prominent, yet not quite front-of-stage roles. Both feature homages to the Verlaine & Lloyd duel guitar tapestry. Both feature nervous lyrics that wallow in the horrors (and humor) of the banal. And both took the stage in intentionally subdued 'Every Man' attire.

What many reviewers fail to mention is that Come On were contemporaries of Talking Heads, having first recorded demo tracks in 1977. The lazy slobs.

That is not to say that Byrne and Company did not influence the direction that Come On were to take in the next three years of existence. However, it can be argued that the similar approach to presentation and stripped-down sound were nothing more than a coincidence of similar artistic expression.

And what an expression it was...

I'm five. Five years old. When I'm seven, I'll get to smoke.
Secretly, I already do. In the bushes. With the girls.

- I'm Five

The Come On Story: New York City, 1976-80 - a compilation of material recorded between 1978-1980 (???) presents the case that Come On deserved a much better fate.

If anything, you'll be left wondering why you are the only one in your crowd to have ever heard of them.

Notable Cuts:

* Howard After Six -- Mom knows why Howard doesn't like making coffee after six, but she's not telling. My favorite cut on the album; a propelling and compelling rhythm section courtesy of Ralf Mann and Page Wood, atmospheric guitar interplay between George Elliot and Elena Glasberg, and Jamie Kaufman's whispering observations on poor Howard's tedium. It blows me away every time.

* Housewives Play Tennis -- Middle-class housewives are such a bore. Except for their weak backhands and underthings. Mmmm.... underthings. Besides 'Howard After Six', this song may be their strongest. And like Howard, you'll swear you've heard it before.

* Old People -- As if their love of Susan Lucci and Alex Trebeck weren't enough. Now we have to worry about old people rioting, looting, and elbowing young people in the sides? Gee, thanks Mr. Kaufman.

* Mona Lisa -- Television had Venus de Milo. Come On had the Mona Lisa. Great. Here come the Television comparisons. 'Mona complains. It seems she doesn't like it, but what can she do? She just has to smile.'

Physical ed. Don't get physical, Ed.
Push Up, Sit Up, Get Up, Shut Up...
Physical ed. I'm a physical wreck.

- Physical Ed

* Physical Ed -- Superb wordplay. Where the hell did Jamie Kaufman go after Come On broke up, anyway? The guy was far too talented to have dropped off the pimpled face of Show Business. Obviously he was smart enough to.

* Don't Walk on the Kitchen Floor -- The B Side to the only 7" single (self)released by the band during their lifetime. 'And I want to live all of my life. Not just the weekends.' Yeah... me, too!

* I'm Five -- Who would have thought five year olds were so worldly?

* My Neighbor Makes Noise -- I love the slow build. Towards the end, drummer Rolf Mann throttles the cut like a slightly out of control go-kart racer.

* See Me -- George Elliot is a superb guitarist. His lines are subtly complex - and the weave between he and Elena Glasberg typically end up making most of the songs interesting enough to come back to.

* Businessmen in Space

Quirky, witty, bouncy -- all the things that made early Devo so great.

Oh...

Damn it!

Links of Interest:

* Come On: New York City, 1976-80 (Punk Not Profit blog link)

* Robert Christgau Review - B+

Kit Ream: All That I Am

2008-11-29T11:13:00.055-05:00

The old man that we called 'Lung Player (LP) Louie' deftly navigated his massive record collection, pulled out a well-worn album from one of the many stacks of vinyl slabs littering his two room 'studio apartment' (as he called it), and placed it on the turntable. As he sat down with a weathered cough, he tossed the album cover onto my lap and laughed.

"You think that last one was weird, Stevie? Check this one out..."

- Kit Ream, All That I Am (Front), 1978 - Creative Records #MW001

"I have not said I'm better, and I have not said I'm worse - but I have an idea concerning the universe. The wheelchair general with his head on wrong - or the long haired singer with his wine and song. To say that I love you with a bomb - or to sing that I hate you: that ain't wrong. I know better than what you give. All I ask is a chance to live; my way or your way it's all the same. 'Cause if no one's hurt, there's none to blame. No... I've not said I'm better, and I've not said I'm worse - but I do have an idea concerning the universe. Always in hell, as I'm sure you can tell. I see you are blind, so I'll take the time... to teach. You must keep in tune just as the moon, which is never too late or never too soon. Here, there, and everywhere you people be real. We must congeal and strip the seal. I'm not saying I'm better and I'm not saying I'm worse - but I have the idea concerning the universe. I really do... now you hear it through."
- Introuniversal Jam

And so I was introduced to Kit Ream.

In my previous post on Gary Wilson's 'You Think You Really Know Me', I mentioned a half-hearted comparison to Kit Ream's 'All That I Am' album.

It might seem a stretch - considering the different types of subject matter that Wilson and Ream specialized in. However, an underlying sense of paranoia, uneasiness, and individualism unites both.

While Wilson's jazz-based work would veer into the avant-garde with a touch of early electronica, Ream's work has been described as 'cocktail-by-the-pool crazy'; a compelling mix of soft jazz and new-age hippy philosophy, spiced by a menacingly stoned lounge singer who may or may not have been heir to the Nabisco Cookie fortune.

And who, after the recording of this album, may or may not have murdered his best friend after experiencing a psychotic break.

- All That I Am (Back)

And surely that is the biggest difference between Ream and Wilson:

Gary Wilson, I would like to think, doesn't actually talk to mannequins named Cindy and Linda during his spare time. Sure... he is probably an odd duck - but aren't we all?

The 'Gary Wilson' persona is a gimmick. A good one, mind you - but still a gimmick.

Kit Ream? Look at that face on the album cover again and tell me his was a put-on.

All That I Am is far from a masterpiece.

But if you subscribe to the theory that art must challenge the viewer - or in this case, the listener, then surely Kit Ream's opus is artistic.

Let's catch Trout.
Have a meal in our stomach and then we can bout.
And laugh about.
Maybe with a friend. Have a good old honest burp. And then slurp some more down.
Because we can't get what's really on our mind.
And that's...
Woman! Woman! Female! Hey Hey, Say Hey... Woman!

- Funk

Some choice cuts...

* 'Don't Be So Holy Poly Over My Souly'

After nominating Black Randy's 'Pass the Dust, I Think I'm Bowie' as the greatest album title of all time, I'm throwing in my vote for 'Don't Be So Holy Poly Over My Souly' as greatest song.

I mean... come on!

John Lennon would have killed for a song title like that.

And then turned around and sold 10 million units.

* The 8:44 long 'Wines'.

The cut pretty much sums up All That Kit Ream Is: Dueling female scat singers for the duration, a hot jazz backing, and Ream drunkenly riffing on wino Jason Slash, the old rugged cross searching for a crown, and changing skins with...

well...

I don't have a clue, actually - but I'm sure Kit must have.

* The refreshing, 'Cool Water' - a startlingly straight song in which the lovely Mina Judd handles vocal duties.

* Track 7, the fantastic 'Funk', features some inspired playing by Ream's backing players. Funky flutes? Harry Connick Jr. could only hope to feature funky flutes.

The vocals... well, let's just say we can guess what ol' Kit was doing during Miss Judd's session. He was producing, alright. Producing vials of differing substances, I'll bet.

Listening to Kit slur his way through the speech-song, I am reminded of my equally plastered father's late-night diatribes. Slipping from exuberance to despair to anger and then back again in the same sentence, I never quite knew which emotional vibe to hang on to.

After awhile, you deaden yourself and learn to just go for the ride.

* The final cut, 'The End' is flat-out spooky. And it is a great one.

A droning synth chord backs Ream's disturbing ramble, until creeping toward an implosion of such new-age, Johnny Guru stickiness, the whole kit and kaboodle threatens to come down around it.

I continually come out of the deal feeling a bit dirty. Much like I do after reading a Lovecraft ditty.

Or watching reality television.

Links of Interest:

* All That I Am (@320 kbps)

* Waxidermy - An excellent article on Ream; a fantastic site - highly recommended!

Captain Beefheart & The Magic Band

2008-11-26T15:26:00.053-05:00

Somebody's had too much to Think!

- Ashtray Heart

Speaking of criminally underrated music acts ...

Dominating my own personal K-Tel Records compilation is the one and only Captain Beefheart (born Don Vliet, January 15, 1941).

Don Van Vliet, circa 1969

Despite the fact that I am ashamed to admit I discovered the music of Don Van Vliet a couple of short years ago, I can honestly say that no one comes close.

No one.

I am confident that had I heard (and properly digested) Beefheart's Dada Blues at a younger and more impressionable age, I would have done more to follow down that same path.

At the very least, I would have stuck my fork in the socket and discovered the power of Electricity sooner.

The Past Sure Is Tense!

It was hard to avoid hearing about Beefheart while cultivating my own music tastes (a process that continues almost daily), considering so many of my favorites would either name check the man in interviews - or end up lumped in with the good Captain by journalists and music scribes. After all, Beefheart's influence on the punk and no/new wave movements of the 70s and 80s is simply too strong to ignore.

But I did manage to avoid listening to his music.

In the end, I blame Frank Zappa.

- Frank Zappa & Captain Beefheart, 'Bongo Fury', 1975

It's not so much that I dislike Zappa (which I do).

The man is to be respected for such an impressive set of facial hair.

And fifteen years after Zappa's death, his overall mastery of the zither remains unparalleled.

Not to mention those Frankie and Annette flicks. Brilliant.

In generalized essence, one of my main beefs against Zappa, in relation to Captain Beefheart, is that you can read a nice cross-sample of articles on Frankie and never come across mention of Beefheart.

On the other side of that coin, you would be hard pressed to read something on Beefheart without tripping across a Zappa reference (or ten).

'Childhood friends'.

'Zappa produced Trout Mask'.

'Zappa Ate the Grunt People!'

'Bongo Fury kept the Captain sailing, dude'.

'When ya' workin' with Frank again? When ya' workin' with Frank??'

In the minds of too many - and that includes my own inner circles of inspiration, Beefheart and His/The Magic Band were nothing more than a Zappa freak show put-on; ala Wild Man Fischer, the GTOs, and Burt Ward.

That truly is Tragic.

From 1967 until his retirement from the music business in 1982, Beefheart produced twelve 'official' albums, four fluid versions of The Magic Band, and enough myths to choke Joseph Campbell's dog. On top of that, he influenced notable artists and personalities John Peel, The Residents, Tom Waits, John Lydon, The Minutemen, Matt Groening, and P J Harvey - just to name a select handful.

Is that not enough evidence to support the notion that Van Vliet deserves more time out of Zappa's shadow?

Regardless, the debate matters little these days.

Captain Beefheart followed his Big Eyed Beans back to Venus long ago.

Down With Vegans - Up With Beef!

Links of Interest:

* Safe As Milk - the Magic Band's first album, 1967

* Trout Mask Replica - Considered by many to be Beefheart's Magnum Opus

* The Spotlight Kid + Clear Spot Double Shot - Possibly Beefheart's finest hour. Both albums released 1972

* Ice Cream for Crow - The Swan Song, 1982

* The Captain Beefheart Radar Station - An excellent site

... and after checking my email during the editing process, I would like to publicly state my apologies to not only the Zappa estate for the facial hair remark - but also to the estate of Anton Karas for the zither crack. Funny... Annette Funicello didn't seem to mind.

Brenden Foster

2008-11-25T13:23:00.006-05:00

After a nearly year-long battle with leukemia, Brenden Foster died this past Friday (November 21, 2008) at the age of eleven.

His story has been reported elsewhere, but it is worth repeating here (and everywhere):

Out of the mouths of babes comes wisdom.

Black Randy and The Metrosquad

2008-11-19T20:41:00.033-05:00

"All my clothes are punky, man. But I will go to the laundromat and Jah will make them clean."

- 'Down At The Laundromat'

I'm sure that you've got several criminally underrated bands in your music catalogue; those that draw blank stares and mumbled, "I think I've heard of 'em" untruths whenever bringing them up. Right?

Most of us do in one form or another. Unless, of course, you are - like my wife - one of those that opine that Cyndi Lauper is criminally underrated.

In that case, we are on different wavelengths.

Black Randy & The Metrosquad - 'Pass The Dust, I Think I'm Bowie'

Shunned by the pseudo-intellectuals in New York and the fashion conscious in London, the early Los Angeles 'Masque era' scene (1977-79) produced some interesting talent. While X, The Go-Go's and The Germs are three of the more well-known groups to crawl out of that particular muck, a listing of artists on the three Dangerhouse compilations ('Volume One', 'Volume 2: Give Me a Little Pain' and 'Yes, L.A.') reveals some equally talented bands: The Bags, the Weirdos, the Randoms, the Dils, the Avengers, Rhino 39, the Alleycats, the Deadbeats...

...and Black Randy and the Metrosquad.

Fronted by the notoriously outrageous Jon Morris; aka Black Randy, the Metrosquad was a super-outfit of sorts - consisting of musical director Dave Brown (the Screamers and the Eyes), K.K. Barrett (the Screamers and the Randoms), Pat Garrett (the Randoms and the Dils), Bod Dead, and eventually Joe Nanini (Howard Werth Band, the Eyes and Wall of Voodoo).

Unlike the three chord and die blisters delivered by a lot of punk bands, the Metrosquad were an odd fusion of white-boy funk, drunken soul, and punk. Musically, they were completely alien not only to their own scene, but also to every scene afterwards.

Lyrically, they were one of the more satirically offensive bands you are ever likely to hear.

"I got a long black eel. And I know where to stick it. So I'll barefoot on the wicket picket."

- 'Barefootin' On The Wicket Picket'

Whether it was love songs to Idi Amin ("Everything is greater 'cause Idi is Dictator!") or fantasies about becoming a cop in order to bust all of the cool kids that ignored him ('I Wanna Be a Narc'), Black Randy's stage persona was that of Fred Sanford to Darby Crash's Grady Wilson.

A smutty and sneering blowhard who took great pleasure in pissing off as many people as possible, Randy's signature tune was a cover of the James Brown classic, 'Say It Loud (I'm Black and I'm Proud)'.

Amazingly, not many people appreciated the irony of a pasty white thrift-store hippy singing such a well-regarded black pride anthem.

In typical punk rock D.I.Y. tradition, there were only four official releases by the band (all of them on their own Dangerhouse label) - not to mention a few compilation appearances.

And thanks to our faceless friends on the interweb, you, too, can check them out:

Trouble at the Cup 7" EP b/w 'Loner with a Boner' and 'Sperm Bank Baby', December 1977 (Dangerhouse #MO721)

Idi Amin 7" EP b/w 'I'm Black & Proud, parts 3 & 14' and 'I Wanna Be A Narc', April 1978 (Dangerhouse #IDI722)

I Slept In An Arcade 7" EP b/w 'Give It Up Or Turn It Loose', July 1979 (Dangerhouse #KY724)

Pass The Dust, I Think I'm Bowie LP, July 1979 (Dangerhouse #PCP725)

Dangerhouse, Volume One - featuring 'Trouble at the Cup', same cut as found on the EP of the same name

Dangerhouse Volume Two: Give Me a Little Pain - featuring 'Idi Amin' and 'I Slept In An Arcade', same cuts as found on the 'Pass the Dust' album

Yes L.A. (Dangerhouse #EW-79, Currently Way Out of Print) - featuring 'Down At The Laundrymat'

Updated link:

All EPs at 320 kbps

The Mayfly: Colt 45's Revenge

2008-11-13T12:55:00.016-05:00

In 1978 I remember driving along the streets of Cleveland with my father at the wheel. Spray painted on the wall of some typically decrepit warehouse were the words, 'Sex Pistols'. Neat.

"Hey, dad? If you are shot by a sex pistol, do you change into a girl?"

"What?"

"It said 'Sex Pistols' on that wall back there."

"Sex Pistols??"

"Yeah! So I was wondering if you were shot by one..."

"The Sex Pistols are a bunch of filthy assholes! Don't you ever mention them again."

Even though he was a hippy vampire feeding at the neck of Colt 45, Dad was a wise man.

Being an angry young dog, I would eventually gravitate towards punk. Several years too late, perhaps - but what can you do?

While most of my friends were listening to Def Leppard and Rush, I was listening to Talking Heads and Television. When those same friends graduated to Anthrax and Slayer, I was listening to Public Image Limited and Dead Kennedys.

Punk gave me focus in a foggy world. In many ways, it shaped who I would become.

And it is all because of Chuck Arwood.

Chuck Arwood, a misfit's misfit, was a dear friend of mine. In sixth grade he was a horn-rimmed butt of many a wise crack; scrawny, nervous... a bit spacey.

He was the 'Weird Kid'.

Paralleling my gradual descent from the social graces of the 'cool kids' during my junior high years, Chuck grew physically bigger than most of us - which, in turn, allowed him to grow bolder in his bizarre personality.

He was the type that most people would love to have around them.

For a week.

Any longer than that and you were simply tempting the fates; there was no way to predict what the wild child Arwood would do one moment to the next.

Would he pull out his dick during a pick-up baseball game and rave to the world his superiority in all things girth?

Would he deposit Monopoly money into his parent's ATM account, then withdrawal hundreds of dollars for splurges at Parmatown Mall?

You just never knew. And that's why I loved the guy.

While hanging out at his house one night, boredom set in.

"Wouldn't it be nice if we had a car, Baker?" He almost always called me by my last name. "We could blow this place and have some real fun."

"I guess. Where would you go if you had a car, Chuck?"

"Does it matter? Anywhere. Everywhere."

Trying to impress the impressive, I thought back to a conversation I had had with a mutual friend that very day. "Listen... Troy's car has no locks and can be started without a key. Why don't we take it out for a spin? He'll never know."

So we took it.

Keep in mind that Troy McManus was a friend. We had grown apart in the months previous, but he was a friend.

Like that mattered...

The joyride consisted of Chuck screaming down Pearl Road, a major thoroughfare cutting from Strongsville to Cleveland, narrowly avoiding a horrendous motorcycle accident cleanup at speeds topping out at 80 per. It amazes me that we weren't popped right then and there.

I'm sure that the cops and ambulance attendants were probably too stunned to do anything but gawk.

I later found out that the motorcycle rider was D.O.A. at the scene.

Poor schmuck.

At the end of our night, Chuck decided that turfing the lawn of Greenbriar Junior High was in order. Who was I to argue?

On the last pass, Chuck lost control of the car, sending it directly into a swing set.

Turfed lawn. Check.

Toppled swingset. Check.

Demolished car. Oh, crap.

Lucky break #2, I suppose. The entire passenger side of the vehicle was a mess.

But I wasn't feeling too lucky.

Panic set in.

It's not as if Troy would fail to notice that his prized piece of shit was totaled. Right?

What to do? What to do??

"Let's burn it!"

I've made some bad decisions in my life, but 'Let's Burn It!' would rank as one of the worst.

Right up there with, 'Why don't we take it for a spin? He'll never know!'

One Grand Theft Auto and a side of Arson, please.

In disgust, the old man spit in my face when he got me home from the police station. It was a lot of fun. We still laugh about it in between the 2-3 year cycle of lay offs from talking to each other.

And needless to say, after the smoke of near incarceration cleared, my old circle of friends rightfully turned their backs on me.

Smart guys. I deserved it.

Friendless (and grounded for six months), I transformed myself into as much of an outward freak as I could in order to reflect the inner chaos. And, most importantly, to piss off my father with the one thing he hated above all else.

I became a punk.

Thanks, Chuck.

Sorry, Troy.

Gary Wilson: You Think You Really Know Me?

2008-11-10T16:54:00.061-05:00

Ladies and Gentlemen... Gary Wilson & The Blind Dates!

A Band so bizarre, they flustered the CBGB punks to the point of confusion and disgust.

The same crowd that grew to love Stiv Bators.

Imagine that.

Gary Wilson's main claim to fame, recording-wise, 'You Think You Really Know Me' is one of the more disturbing (and interesting) albums I have had the pleasure of listening to. And that is saying something, considering some of the 'outsider' acts in my library; The Shaggs, Luie Luie, Kit Ream, and The Monkees - just to name a few.

Sick Trips take the place of someone else's Blind Dates...

- When You Walk into My Dreams

Released in 1977, the best I can describe the music on You Think You Really Know Me would be 'Stalker Rock' - a bizarre mix of lounge lizard bleatings, 70s porn soundtracks, avant-garde angst and Steely Dan funk.

In other words, an Americanized French Song era Davy Jones.

... If Davy never got the girl.

... And then sat in his parent's basement for the next twenty years action-figuring a way to get her back.

Frankly, there just isn't anything else quite like 'You Think You Really Know Me'. At least nothing I have ever heard before.

Heck, a great majority of Wilson's later work doesn't even come close.

I took her to the dance last Friday night.
I said, 'Just wait there. I'll be right back.'
She said, 'Gary... that sounds fine.'
When I came back, I told her I fell in love with her.
She said, 'Gary, falling in love ain't too cool.'

- Groovy Girls Make Love at the Beach

The closest comparison I could make would be Kit Ream's 'All That I Am' - although I would be hard pressed to define the exact similarities between the two albums.

'They both kind of creep me out' will have to do.

Sure... not many bands sound like The Shaggs, either.

But why in the world would they want to?

Links of Interest:

* 'You Think You Really Know Me'

* 2 7" EPs - 'This Is Why I Wear My Wedding Gown' & 'Invasion of Privacy'

* Gary Wilson's Six Point Four website

* Human Ear Music, Wilson's current label

Prince Far I, The Voice of Thunder

2008-11-09T14:54:00.033-05:00

Reading the news today, I stumbled across yet another story that struck a nerve.

3 paragraphs. Done and gone.

Thanks for playing child Allen.

Good luck next time.

Yet the Cleveland Cavaliers get a tome in comparison.

I, for one, am glad that Cleveland.com has its priorities in order.

"Man has turned into a Dog. Discipline is what the world needs today. And etiquette, you know.

For one of the Noblest things a Man can do is to do the best he can, yeah..."

- Prince Far I, Heavy Manners

To quote the All Music Guide biography on the mighty Prince:

"... He certainly cannot be categorized as a singer, although at times -- especially during chanted passages -- there was definitely a singsong quality to his vocals, and in that respect the closest comparison was to Winston Rodney of Burning Spear. However, that group actually wrote lyrics, while Prince Far I vocals were a stream of consciousness that belongs in the DJ realm. But to call him a toaster is equally inaccurate. His delivery was reminiscent of an Old Testament prophet, railing at the wicked, a seething outpouring of religiously inspired righteousness."

As far as I am concerned Michael Williams (c. 1944-1983); aka Prince Far-I was a prophet.

Whereas Bob Marley's Godly message of Peace and Unity can be considered a sugar, Prince Far-I's thunderous declarations of Discipline and Livity* were the spice.

* = Word used by Rastafarians, meaning 'Righteous Living'

Links of interest:

* Distinctly Jamaican Sounds - The Voice of Thunder Reggaexx Mix download

* Under Heavy Manners, 1977 -- Producer: Joe Gibbs

* Prince Far I Tribute site

* Reggae Reviews Prince Far I section

Thanks, Bobby...

2008-11-07T09:35:00.005-05:00

Up to this point, I have continually shunned blogging as a semi-literate ego trip for failed English majors and bored housewives/husbands.

However, I've grown to appreciate the medium as a means of information exchange.

Yeah, yeah... a few years late on that one, sparky.

In large part, this revelation started when I stumbled across the CleSoul blog run by Bobby and Wedge. Concentrating on the local Cleveland Soul Music scene, the CleSoul blog opened my eyes. While I knew that the Cleveland area was a music hub during the 70s, I had no clue as to the extent.

Who knew it didn't begin and end with Michael Stanley??

Hence the information exchange light bulb.

Check it out.