Yeah, I know that few if any of you care what I think. Actually, even I don't care what I think! But if you do have it in your heart to give at least a damn to be early-seventies about it regarding people other than yourselves (like maybe me) well, there are some interesting opines and whatnot to follow. If you're torn between reading this and engaging in something that used to be illegal unless you were of the age of consent well, you know what's best for you and whatever's left of your mind now, don't you?

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As far as life goes well, it always could be better but at times it ends up worse. Keeping busier than usual just doing my usual doodies and trying to get some relaxation in, something I really won't be getting much of until I'm slapped into one of those low-grade Old Folk's Homes like the kind Brad Kohler used to work at where chubby nurses are always seen outside smoking while some nonagenarian keeps ringing the buzzer in vain.

I'm also trying to weave myself back into my vinyl collection even more than I have been over the past few years, digging out some of the oft-neglected items in the piles of platters that adorn my room. Some long-ignored efforts have thankfully been uncovered though others not so...still trying to locate at least one old Husker Du effort if only to re-introduce myself to that once-famed (and once good) trio who I haven't spun in like ages to which I say shame on moi.

I could get into a big moaning boo-hoo about how the kind of records I want and desire just aren't out there and how my life is the worse because of it, and come to think of it I will. There are tons of groups I would like to hear, mostly obscurities from the second rock age (according to my calculations roughly 1964-1981) but unless some enterprising soul comes around and makes these efforts available I'll just be frettin' over the fact that I, just like Massa, is probably gonna go into the col' col' ground without ever getting to hear what I would call essential and vital to my own livelihood sounds. 

But eh, who knows...maybe something definitely vital to the rockism cause like that lost Crouille Marteau album for BYG, a tape of no wave group Terminal  or even Amon Duul live at the Essen rockfest will surface thus sating a whole load of desires that have been curdling in my mind for years on end. Probably not but eh, if long-lost silent-era films people thought to be lost forever continue to be discovered why not sound recordings that would certainly suit me better'n a good portion of the dross passing itself off for music these sad and sorry days!

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For this week's AI creation, a picture of
Emo Phillips pushing some heretic off a
bridge.

THE DEATHS JUST KEEP ON ROLLIN': Sal Maida of Roxy/Sparks/Milk 'n Cookies/Velveteen/Lovin' Kind fame has passed as has longtime Soft Machine mainstay Mike Ratledge who played on all this English avgarde jazz (NOT "progressive rock") group's better efforts (when he left and the rest became just "the Softs" it wasn't the same thing, or so I get the feeling since I never even heard those later albums!). For television watchers Big Chuck Sadowski has also left us, his exiting reminding me of many a night when I would nod off in front of the tube only to be startlingly awakened by the strains of B. Bumble and the Stingers. 

And, as you'd know from reading the previous post, Gene Hackman has died, and under extremely suspicious circumstances if what we've read is any real indication. Sheesh, I'll bet this is gonna be more than just some "Colonel Mustard in the library with a candlestick" sorta deal for the authorities to sort out!

A whole lotta you probably are aware of the dire situation whereas none other than former Doll David Johansen is struggling through stage four cancer, something which I gotta say creeps out even a guy such as myself who has experienced first hand close relatives and others go through long and agonizing deaths. Dunno how long the guy's gonna make it (who knows, he might be gone by the time this post hits the boards) and yeah, we all know that Johansen's career has been a series of ups, downs, even more downs then valiant attempts to reclaim former glories (I mean, after Buster Pointdexter and CAR 54 who would have ever thought the man could redeem himself?), but still I'm rooting for Johansen to the point where I hope at least that his passing will not be so painful. And who knows, if any of you readers will happen to get back on my good side I might just do the same thing for you!

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Canada the 51st state? Sheesh, does the USA really need Newfies?        

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HIGHLY OVERRATED (if rated at all) SOFT DRINK-Orange Cream Coca-Cola which is just another gimmick to get you to guzzle the same-old with some added flavors that never did taste as good as the original soda fountain concoctions (I still remember drinking authentic Chocolate Coca-Cola served in one of those paper cones placed inside an aluminum holder complete with a little drop of the chocolate syrup concentrated right at the bottom!). Serves me right since I oughta be boycotting this swill anyway!

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HEAR MY PLEA! Could someone out there send me a sound recording (no visuals!) of the Peter Hofsess film BLACK ZERO (PALACE OF PLEASURE) for me? Not the updated one with that gender fluid Montreal band doing the music but the original with the Who and Velvet Underground material intermingled with original music by the Gass Company doing their best to prove themselves one of the first groups to sport a Velvets influence. If you can slip the soundtrack to REDPATH 25 on as well I surely would be totally in debt which for me is a rather easy proposition!

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Record (or whatever) review time! Donations were given by Paul McGarry and Robert Forward (even found an old Bill Shute spinner that slipped through the cracks).

SUB ZERO BAND LP (Vortex Records)

Hmmmm...didn't have much hope for this New Jersey group's local press but bought the thing for two reasons and two reasons only! First off, "fiddle/violin/mandolin" player John Cortes was later an on/off member of the better than you would have expected New York spacerock band Alien Planetscapes and second off, Sub Zero were booked, and on the same dates as the ever-popular Kongress, electrogrind band Guardian and the totally neglected Antenna (later "the Ants") at the 1975 CBGB Christmas Festival which did make me somewhat curious. Cortes said that on Christmas Eve Sub Zero actually played to an empty house, but I do get the idea that was because everyone must have been partying elsewhere because these guys were a somewhat listenable act despite the warning signs (I mean...fiddle and mandolin?).

Unlike a good portion of these now you see 'em acts, Sub Zero actually put out an album and believe it or leave it but the platter's actually worth at least some scrutiny. The Black Oak Arkansas influence Cortes once hinted at in unfortunately nowhere to be heard but still I gotta hand it to this sextet for putting out an album that does have more'n just a few moments and for not succumbing to the whole laid back seventies burned out hippie dream that was such a joke that punk rock was fortunately around to lambaste it all...at least before the punks became the burned out hippie dream mark two!

Well, maybe the ol' down on the commune feeling is evident on track one which is entitled "Home Grown Woman" where singer Robert Seals (with a rather weak-kneed tenor voice) and special guest Christy Seals who I assume is somehow related chime on about that downhome backwoods gal livin' off the land 'n all, done to one of those pass the jug amongst other things jams that sounds like something those hippoids in BILLY JACK might've cooked up. Somehow I do think it is a put on considering how Seals sings about the gal of his dreams "smelling like a compost" so perhaps this is redeemable.

Continuing on my track-by-track assessment (something I ain't done at least since the days of my own crudzine) comes "Home is Where Your Head is" which will make you forget any nasty memories of the previous track. It's totally out of nowhere considering how this 'un sounds more like some 1967 psychedelic hillbilly garage band with Cortes' careening violin perhaps upping the date to 1969 when a lotta bands were caught in the crosshairs of punk psychosis and professional plop. I'll betcha this finger snapper could have turned up on one of those ultra-expensive sixties collectors music compilations that Midnight Records used to sell at exorbitant prices.

"Tom Cat Blues" follows, and forgetting the juvenile slip in of the intended entendre "pussy" this is yet another fairly good hillbillies gone hipster toon, complete with comb and wax paper buzz and Holy Modal Rounders subversive hoot.

Closing out the side's "Simple Man" which, at least to me, recalls early Country Joe right when he and the Fish were going electric and hey, even if that guy has irritated me what with his imbecilic "Fish Cheer" I don't mind listening to the violin drone which reminds me of the Fish organ which I think was one of the better things that group was ever able to muster up.

Flip it over and "Morning Sky" is there to greet'cha...slow psych with enough pop moves to make this worth lending ear to, reminding me of what the Jefferson Airplane would have come up with had I only LIKED them. A fair enough entry. If Cortes' violin is meant to emulate Papa John Creach's then maybe I should dig into that's guy's catalog!

With a title like "Forty Shades of Blue" I was thinking this would be somewhat like that dirty book that came out awhile back but it ain't. It ain't that hot either with lead vocalist Ann Hudson reminding me of Anne Murray. The steel guitar doesn't help much either.

Back to the cornball titles---"Song to Sing" got me thinking Oliver and that HAIR hit of his with alla that doobie dabba dabba dribble! This 'un passes if only because it has some decent Moby Grape undertones and yeah, the specter of seventies Grateful You-Know-Who seems to pop its li'l rear into the sound but then again I can hear the 13th Floor Elevators 'round the time of BULL OF THE WOODS which certainly does help out...somewhat.

"Sidewalk Shuffle"---fair enough only because the laid back approach doesn't quite strangle any of the interesting drive the song does retain.

Closing out the platter's "Too Many Religions" which is exactly what you think it's about. Again the Airplane seem to be lurking in the influence but the song survives due to what I would call a down groove psychedelic folk rock tension. Good way to close out an album I'll tell ya.

'n ya know? I get the feeling that I will be pulling this one off the pile on quite a few occasions even if I find the thing rather uneven. There is a fair enough spirit here that does save this from being yet another one of a million front porch touchyfeely folkie hoedowns we've had way too many of in this life of ours. You can judge for yourselves given what I have writ whether or not you'll wanna hear this 'un for yourselves if you're brave enough to inquire with a missive to Void Records, PO Box 506, Millville NJ 08332 and don't be surprised if your letter comes back.

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Marshall Allen-NEW DAWN CD-r burn (originally on Mexican Summer/Weekend Records)

As Robert Forward said, "it took a hundred years but here's this guy's first solo record"! Sheesh, Sun Ra mainstay Marshall Allen lived about three times the lifespan of your average jazz musician which really is something given all of the maladies both self-inflicted or not that usually befall these guys, and only now does he step out as a leader! Talk about procrastination!!!

Recorded three days after the guy hit the big 'un, Marshall sounds as arkestry as anything, playing fairly well for a guy in the triple digits who may not have all of those important things (like "the wind") anymore but still has the spirit to be cornballus about it. Thank Ra that the man has kept the swing goin' with this 'un, especially during an era where it seems that anything but sway and style is part and parcel to the jazz sound unless you're one of those all-out free player who thankfully are still in on the game. Lotsa strings, lotsa blues, a tad of punk funk, "World Music", some modern-day slickwhiz and heck, even some Nenah Cherry. Nice one here.

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The Dogs-TEEN SLIME CD-r burn (originally on Rave Up Records, Italy)

Part of that "American Lost Punk Nuggets" series that gave us the Warm Jets album reviewed a month or three back. These Iowans were in on the Ig worship game long before I ever espied a Stooges record in the cutout racks of my local record emporium which sure is saying something good for them, if bad for me. 

Just like every other band that I know of who called themselves the Dogs (including the Flamin' Groovies for a very short spell) these bowzers really captured the spirit of seventies hard-rock gunch what with their definite musical/lyrical references to Iggy that definitely rank with the Imperial Dogs and Rocket From The Tombs as far as the high energy quotient that is displaced on these 1972-1978 tracks go. 

Professionally recorded in an honest to fanabla studio, this 'un coulda passed as THAT GREAT LONG-LOST ALL AMERIGAN PUNK ROCK ALBUM that, had it only been released back during them times, woulda been the greatest cutout find to ever make its way to a DENIM DELINQUENT review page. Despite the studio slickness this does retain the power and might that went with these sounds and who knows, if Kid Sister had only gotten into a studio they woulda sounded just as good as these fellow middle-of-the-continent compatriots in sound.

'n this is just the tip of the mid-century Amerigan (and elsewhere) punk rock blare. Of course more is needed so whoever you are, clean out them drawers and sent them tapes to SOMEONE!!!!

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Sniper-LIVE ON THE UNDERGROUND TONIGHT SHOW 1973 CD-r burn

Here's the future Joey Ramone during his Jeff Starship days with that band that later became Kid Blast then Grand Slam (check out the second Max's album). 'n for a buncha '73 glam rockers these guys sure did a great job of it what with Mr. Starship/Ramone's nasal growl and phonus balonus English accent balanced against the hard-edged glitter blare that ain't quite New York Dolls but gettin' there. The sound is wonky but listenable...I'll betcha that with things like AI and other state of the art shenanigans this could end up rather pro sounding, maybe getting a release on one of those small labels that cater to the clientele for this music the same way alla those labels were issuing Benny Goodman airchecks for an earlier but equally rabid bunch for years on end. Rock history? Nah...rock as a still relevant force in one's like whether you're an upstart teenbo or an old turd like myself. Rave Up Records, are you listening???

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The Turtles-ALL THE SINGLES 2-CD-r burn set (originally on Manifesto Records)

Now that I got this set, alla those ill feelings of passing on more than just a few copies of THE TURTLES GREATEST HITS during my prowling of garage sales and flea markets days have pretty much vanished. Of course spending a quarter on an album back when I was eleven woulda been a better deal since that 'un will now cost me a good six bucks at any antiques shop but eh, these two burnt offerings have alla this and even more so I better quit being such a big baby about it and settle back and GIVE A GOOD LISTEN!

And hey, this ultimo collection's even better'n the ton of previous Turtle gather ups, giving us all the a's and b's including those recs that didn't manage to do squatsville even if these guys were more'n just hot potatoes in the world of AM dial tuning. These are real-deal "nuggets if you duggits" from the early folk rock pangs of "It Ain't Me Babe" and personal fave "Let Me Be" to the hotcha pop slop that really raked in not only the big bux but the gash. 

Even the later-on tracks custom made for the pimpled thigh gals have their boff sense of genius that I'm sure most high-falutin' naysayers of the day would have denied because these guys weren't exactly the hippest thing in the annals of rockist snobdom. Well, at least they weren't until Mark Volman and Howard Kaylan hitched up with T. Rex and Zappa. THEN they were cooler than cool.

The only thing that would have made this 'un more perfecter than perfect woulda been liner notes by Tricia Nixon. But I guess we couldn't expect anything like that now, could we?

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Vernon Reid's Living Colour-CBGB August 8, 1986 CD-r burn

Here's Living Colour a good three years before VIVID thrust them onto the record-buying scene and the people out there proved that they actually had some good taste in music after all. And I was part of that massive throng of Living Colour fans, at least until these guys did that "love song in the age of AIDS" which was like ASKING me to hate them. 

The three-piece version of the group start off with some really power-packed jazz fusion (the kind that won't make you puke) before getting into the vocal realm where the music can range from equally razzle-dazzle to somewhat tiresome in spots. Whatever, still worth the seek out. Living Colour really were one group from the v. late-eighties that deserved all the fame they got and perhaps the only one group that I can think of offhand (well, there was also Guns 'n Roses at least to a point) for that matter who did.

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Various Artists-UNISSUED SUN MASTERS CD-r burn (originally on Charly Records, England)

This 'un's a pretty down home set of early Sun discards that helps get my blood flowin' even if I'm not in a rockabilly mood. These tracks are all unreleased obscurities (well, unreleased until this came out I guess) gathered together in what sounds like the perfect platter for all of those European fifties maniacs who produced more than their fair share of boring fanzines over the years. Features names both familiar (Narvel Felts, Rudy Grayzell...) and not. Along with a whole slew of White Label and other under-the-counter companies a pretty good encapsulation of a sound and way of music that sure didn't last too long, but you just know that its never gonna be forgotten by people who take their past seriously.

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The Band-MUSIC FROM BIG PINK CD-r burn (originally on Universal Records)

Never did cuddle up to these guys if only because they seemed like not only "older kid music" but the bridge between mid-sixties folk rock and seventies laid back ROLLING STONE denim jeans and jacket cocaine karma. After listening to this 'un I can revel in the fact that my original suspicions have been confirmed. Let's just say that by this time these guys just weren't the rockin' and honky tonkin' garage greats the Canadian Squires of "Leave Me Alone" fame let alone the backing band for Moulty no' mo'!

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Steve Reich-MUSIC FOR 18 MUSICIANS CD-r burn (I assume this is the ECM version but hey, you've been wrong before)

I might have mentioned how my knowledge of Reich had been nada when compared to some of his fellow composers who were at least getting noticed by snootier-than-thou prog rock types. What I have heard from the guy never has disappointed me and neither does MUSIC FOR 18 MUSICIANS which flows in and out of a repetitive pulse, not as stark or as bold as what Terry Riley and Philip Glass were doing around the same time but you can't admit that this does satisfy the same way it did back when you were just discovering this music and its sounded like a totally new realm to wallow about in. If you were some fat suburban slob kid who hadda fight for scraps of information from the cool world and even a Nonesuch order of HPSCHD was cause for celebration you would understand! Makes me wanna slam dunk that old biddy of a librarian who wouldn't get more records like this because they already had Ferde Grofe and that was enough avgarde for them!

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Rashied Ali Quintet featuring Frank Lowe-SIDEWALKS IN MOTION CD-r burn (originally on Survival Records)

Mr. Forward sent me a Cee-Dee-Are burn with the Rashied Ali/Leroy Jenkins album SWIFT ARE THE WINDS OF TIME not knowing that I had that 'un for years. Well, it gave me an excuse to listen to the thing again but after that he slapped on this Ali recording done with the soundsearing Frank Lowe called SIDEWALKS IN MOTION which is just now seeing the light of day.

This definitely was recorded after Lowe read that review about "overblowing" and unfortunately toned himself down, but even with the man's "restraint" this is a very listenable, fray at the endings of your nerves sesh. Definitely patterned in the classic Coltrane style yet more ESP circa 1967...for some reason (maybe my superior insight) Frank Wright immediately comes to mind as do various other late-sixties experimentalists who managed to take an already extreme music into the outer reaches.

Good 'nuff even if this ain't up there with those Lowe classics like BLACK BEINGS, THE FLAM and that all time brainripper FRESH. The revival of the Survival label is also something to go all out joybells over...maybe now they'll finally release that Rashied Ali's Funky Freeboppers album which Survival has been promising to get out for years on end! 

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The Residents-THE THIRD REICH 'N ROLL CD-r burn (originally on Ralph Records)

Missed out on this (not that I was particularly looking for it!) Residents rec that was legendary in the same listening circles I was bopping around in way back when. Then again you probably never had to subsist on depression-era wages like I did at a time when I had to be pretty picky about where my pennies went! 

On this legendary effort the Residents re-imagine all of those sixties nuggets and turn teen time USA into a nightmare or at least Purgatory.  A whole load of your favorite singles of the day remade/remodeled/mutilated in a way that comes off the way that Blue Boy from DRAGNET probably heard 'em. 

From what I understand, a lot of the people who were heavily into sixties garage bands and other top 40 efforts really enjoyed this which only goes to show you that they had way more of an open mind and sense of humor than the FM-bred dolts who would have puked had the Residents done this to Journey!

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If you want them (and who in their right mind does?), there are back issues of BLACK TO COMM still up and about in case you need to fill in the cracks that are in your collection, or fill in the cracks that are in your garage as you turn on the engine for that matter. Outside the USA, please be prepared for some extreme sticker shock. In fact, don't even bother.

MOOM PITCHER REVIEW! PRIME CUT STARRING LEE MARVIN AND GENE HACKMAN (Paramount, 1972) (Printed ahead of schedule because well, Hackman just croaked and I sometimes I wouldn't mind this blog being somewhat up to date!)

I gotta admit that I really do enjoy these early-to-mid-seventies H-wood features that I missed out during the days when I had a hard time telling the difference between boys and girls or something like that. You still had the near-godlike old time actors from the forties and fifties in 'em not to mention the same kind of hard-driving heart pounding plots that put studios like Warner's on the map, only now these kinda flickers were jam-packed with things ya just couldn't get away with before like cussing, bloody violence and (best of all) BARED SUCKEMS!!!

Ya sure get a whole load of all that in PRIME CUT, a moom which really exemplifies the Hollywood cusp between the old style and the new amorality. Imagine the best of some fifties mob/crime flick with alla the blood and guts (an' I do mean it!) that just weren't allowed way back when as well as some tit scenes that woulda given Will Hays either a massive heart attack or an even more massive hard on (these scenes are mild enough but sometimes your mind slips into wet dream mode even when you're awake and what an embarrassment!). Whatever, this 'un's a pretty slick deal.

Maybe it's molasses slow here/there but when the gas pedal is pushed to the floor PRIME CUT can be just about everything you wanted in a good underworld film but weren't allowed to watch in front of your parents. Or even now if your wife's that much of a prudish harridan who leads you around by the ring embedded into your corona.

Lee Marvin plays even more detached before turning into his Bongo the Gorilla self as Irish Mob enforcer Nick Devlin. He's an iceberg of a cool guy who travels with a small cadre from Chicago to Kansas City so's he can collect on a debt from Gene Hackman, a particularly off-turning redneck who goes by the name "Mary Ann" (!) and has no intention of paying one thin dime owed. Considering what his predecessors went through this ain't just any ol' task for Marvin...Hackman and his hayseeds play pretty rough ball as you can tell by the opening scene where one of the earlier enforcers is processed into hot dogs and mailed back to his place of origin.

Hackman does a good biz himself not only with the meat-grinding game but with the doob and poppies grown in his own greenhouse. Being an enterprising sort he even dabbles in prostitution, being supplied by ample young maidens procured from the local orphanage as soon as they're ripe for pickin'. As an upstanding member of the local community Junior Achievement is very important to him.

None other'n Sissy Spacek's one of the sides of a completely different piece of meat up for auction who Devlin, kind-hearted soul that he is, actually rescues and has dolled up as she spills many a bean about not only Hackman's deal but a strange neo-lezbo relationship she has with her fellow inmate and "sister" Violet. Considering the amt. of screen time in which Spacek shows off not only her dairies but some hindquarter and even a flash of curlies, you kinda wonder how she could get off telling John Lennon that he went too far!

It's a beautifully violent ride from thereon in what with a wild shoot out scene at a state fair and a getcha by the throat segment where Marvin and Spacek are chased through a field by a combine harvester (the conclusion to that particular episode sure made for some natural "Metal Machine Music" accompanied by on-screen vehicular carnage that's definitely one of the highlights of this messterpiece)!

Can't say 'nuff 'bout the acting, what with Marvin in patented bared-wire intensity mode and Hackman playing it so disgusting to the point where you're just itching to see him cash in his chips, painfully at that. Even Spacek, who to me represents a whole load of what I would call the less appealing aspects of Amerigan womanhood, does swell in a somewhat neo-retarded way. Hefty bonus points go to PLAN NINE FROM OUTER SPACE's Gregory Walcott as Hackman's brother "Weenie", a particularly thuggish individual who's seen in the opening processing the last visitor from out of town into num nums for your next 4th of July picnic (I tell ya, if Upton Sinclair had lived a good four more years and saw this 'un he'd just die). The weird fight scene Walcott has with Hackman where they even rough and tumble over the accountants across the room was strictly outta leftfieldsville, and he's the only guy I've seen, at least in a dramatic film, who tries to kill someone by stabbing him with a sausage.

I assume this 'un's better'n all those new dramatic type of flickers that pop up at the local bunkers not to mention on Paramount and various other cable ripoff stations. Not exactly a five-starrer but it sure made for a way better time 'n reading most of those boo-hoo sites that various eighties rockcrit survivors have been dumping on us as of late that's for sure!

BOOK REVIEW! TWO-GUN KID VOLUME 1 (Gwandanaland Comics, 2017) 

Well, Jonah Hex it ain't.

Like I said in my review of that particular splatterfest, it wasn't like I was a fan of western comics throughout my growing up days of comic book droolathons, but I sure remember this Atlas/Marvel-era Two-Gun guy's comic book proudly plunked on many a comic book newsstand that I've prowled. I guess it did well enough that the title could exist merely on reprints long after the Kid was retired to the ol' cowboys home, and given how the reprints ran on for quite some time there must have been an audience for this particular brand of western thrills. But as to WHY well, I certainly couldn't have given you an answer then, or perhaps now for that matter. I guess those athletic countrified kids who were stoopid enuff to go hunt, fish and run around in the wilds were still plentiful while smarties like myself knew better enough to just plop in front of the tee-vee with snacks and other suburban slob stimulants.

Anyhow, the original Kid (don't be fooled since there were two Marvel characters who used the same name and the same logo for that matter) seems more like your typical comic cowpoke than some Old West psychopath you would have seen in the comics once the seventies got into gear. This is way pre-Clint Eastwood wop-a-dago westerns so don't expect the blood 'n carnage that the genre has been known for since the days of THE WILD BUNCH...just the same tried and true that had gone with these sagas until the advent of the "adult" westerns that brought a new raw-edge to the old tried and true.

This Kid's really some wranglin' type (no, not that) named Clay Harder (well, with a name like that maybe he is!), and he's the kind of cowboy who even gave his horse a name ("Cyclone" --- well at least it ain't Dobbin) and sings as he rides about. Kinda reminds me of a funny story from back when I was a teenbo or so when I remarked to my father as to why did cowboys like Gene Autrey, the Lone Ranger and Roy Rogers named their horses yet Marshal Dillon, Paladin and all of those newer tee-vee guys didn't. All I got was a stony glare.

These stores are definitely stuck, and stuck like your car is halfway into a huge glop of mud and you can't get out, in them pre-adult western days. You know that especially when some character utters the word "varmint", and while I'm at it you can just get it within your feelers that this is strictly for the juvenile crowd given how the same handfulla plots are trotted out over and over complete with the crooked guy or gang that's running the town and the beaut of a gal who's either kept woman of the local boss or (if innocent looking enough) the daughter of the sheriff or a farmer. Eh, if those early-sixties Marvel monster stories could subsist on the same few recycled plots so can these and while I'm at it, so what smartypants!

Needless to say, I'll take this over a whole slew of pre-Stan Goldberg MILLIE THE MODELs with a few PATSY WALKERs thrown in for good measure. An' this collection even has the original ads for everything from rubber masks to home moom pitcher projectors, all left intact just like it was still the fifties and you were some suburban slob of a kid won'drin what do do with your eentsy-weentsy savings before mom found out about it and made you put it in the bank! Given that your pittance could have gone towards something "useful" rather'n some "cheap plastic junk" all I gotta say is my, you readers surprise me with your selfishness!

 

BOOK REVIEW! LOLLY AND PEPPER: THE DELL FOUR-COLOR FILES (Gwandanaland Comics, 2020)

(As you woulda already known after reading my bile for the last umpteen years...) Having been a big fan of pre-hippoid comic fare ever since I can remember hopping up on my dad's lap and forcing him to read me the comic page, you can just IMAGINE how interested I was in finding out more about this particular once-somewhat popular yet long-forgotten strip. A pretty hard if not downright Herculean task too...it ain't like MISS LOLLY was ever whatcha'd call one of those upper-echelon titles in the pantheon of classic comic greatness that would achieve the same heights as other fifties efforts as PEANUTS or DENNIS THE MENACE. T'was just the kind of funny pager whose style and theme would eventually become outdated and thus fizzle the comic into obscurity while only the biggie bigs of the post-WW II suburban fambly gagsters like HI AND LOIS could manage to hang on. Losing plenty in the process but on the comics page they stayed. 

Not that it got that much exposure...I mean when the bunch of us would go on vacations I'd always comb the newspapers not only for local tee-vee listings (always was curious as to how UHF and/or indie-styled stations in other markets differed from the ones I was accustomed to) but to see them strips that had been hanging on years after you thought they would outlive their usefulness... 

...and y'know what --- I NEVER came across MISS LOLLY anywhere in the back pages of any fishwrap I could think of! In fact, the only reference to this strip that I'm aware of in years of gathered flotsam/jetsam of books and mags cluttering up my fart-encrusted bedroom (amongst other places) is one mere cameo by the title character's kiddoid brother named "Pepper" in the pages of MAD. Well, as far as these ranch house youth-oriented comic strips went MISS LOLLY wasn't exactly THE NEBBS!

But I learned slowly but surely. When I got some original comic art to give my cyster for Christmas years back there was a MISS LOLLY in the batch. It was a definitely from way later-on in the strip's lifetime and had all of the hallmarks of seventies-era fare in looks as well as content. The style was remarkably different than the LOLLY you see on the above cover, and the overall idea I got from this particular example was that the comic was an update of sorts on the old workplace strips a la BLONDIE or even WINNIE WINKLE for that matter. In my mind of minds LOLLY was one of those fly-by-night seventies strips that went nowhere and probably got canceled a good five or so years after its inception---how wrong I was!

Dunno if these Dell stories reflect the earlier comic strip much --- I mean the comic book version of BEETLE BAILEY didn't exactly live up to the actual item and in many ways was quite lacking --- but this collection was a fine enough introduction to a title I'm sure as shootin' you'd never remember. And from this intro I kinda get the feeling that MISS LOLLY was nothing I would particularly take to my heart in the same way I accepted Nancy and Sluggo as my own personal saviors (from a life of unfunny droll) as a child, but I like it if only because it does capture the spirit of post-World War II/pre-hippie suburban slob ranch house living.

Well, artist Pete Hansen (or one of his assistants or even some Dell staff artist for that matter) was fine with a pen, and even if a lot of the stories dealing with office politics and unruly brats have been long smashed into the ground I found 'em somewhat entertaining even at first glance. By the time I was over and done with the book I found MISS LOLLY extremely entertaining given that the spirit and downright drive of this Silver Age comic strip was definitely embedded into the suburban slob appeal I definitely am on the lookout for when pouring through these things.

Sure the entire gist of MISS LOLLY smacks you right in the face from sexy secretary Lolly to her grandmother in typical cloth dress with frilly collar and sleeves (who goes by the name "Granny"...well, you never did complain o'er the fact that Nancy's dog's named "Poochie" so don't go putting on airs of intellectual superiority) on to boss Mr. Quimby who is pretty much indistinguishable from alla them other cringe-inducing comic bosses from Mr. Dithers on down. But the artwork is satisfying in the same way I find a whole load of these fifties-bred efforts to be, and although the stories have the predictable over-used plots with the expected twists and turns well, it's sure fun to see them storylines dredged up once again 'stead of the castrated and downright unfunny mulch to have been found ever since the major clampdown on offensive material. You remember, the sick and sorry trend in newspaper comics that began with that BAILEY storyline where General Halftrack went to a sensitivity seminar ruining not only that strip but the entire funny page seemingly for good.

Strict attention should be paid to kid brother Pepper who with the ne'er removed hat and small stature comes off looking like a kindergarten Bailey while behaving a whole lot like the early and out of control Dennis the Menace.  Not that it means a hill of turds --- while Dennis had an anarchistic feeling and spirit that made the overall'd one so outrageous Pepper just comes off grating and downright annoying. His antics are just as out-there as Dennis' were during the early days, but there is nothing likable to this kid who pulls one dumb boner and kiddoid trick after another which only makes you wanna splatter his guts on the sidewalk. Despite the amount of carnage he delivers, the little turdburger's more irritating rather than har-har. Well, at least Pepper ain't spared the rod and often gets the what-for unlike Dennis, whose parents seem to dismiss even his worst transgressions with the ol' "aw shucks" treatment I sure wish I experienced during my own growing up days!

Like I said, there's nothing that much different plot-wise to make MISS LOLLY stand out next to the other comics that were competing for page space. Many of the tales have to do with Pepper's misconduct such as when he handcuffs himself to Grandma so he could go on an outing or becomes the owner of a large and over-protective dog who shows vicious propensities whenever the kid's in for a lickin'. Older 'n old hat true, but the spiffy and by now ancient style makes this one about as fun to read as...well, those early-seventies Marvel Comics reprints of various old Atlas-era kiddie comic strips which I guess had their moments if only because Stan Lee knew how to swipe an idea and milk it for all it was worth!

I know most all of you 'cept for Wade Oberlin couldn't care one whit, and that's your own problem I guess. Still, I find a collection of a comic character like Lolly, who sure ain't gonna get the Fantagraphics treatment, not only quite historical but downright time-wastin' fun! Hey, what else are you gonna do on your Sunday afternoons anyway...watch some dull sports game or movie on the tube, go bicycle riding, or settle down in your room with a bowl of Cheetos on the floor and Miss Lolly in the palm of your yellowed up hands! Anybody out there who wouldn't just love snuggling up with this 'un better turn in his Archie Club press card and badge and like right now!

Once again, here's that blog which is really gonna suffer (maybe even go out of business) now that alla them USAID dollars that have been pumping it up o'er the past few years have been eliminated. Of course I won't let something as significant as that stop me from getting one of these out so soon knowing how you readers just pine away waiting for these "megaposts" to hit the screens, and since I didn't want any of you to do anything rash in the meanwhile I thought I'd hurry it up a bit. Naturally I had to tear myself away from all of those DRAGNET and RIFLEMAN reruns I repeatedly tune into (you just can't get enough drowned babies in bathtubs), and some people out there say that I just don't do enough sacrificin' for all of my dear and near readers! So like, here's one for all of you who think that I'm in this only for the fun and jamz with no care for the thoughts and needs of you people out there in etherland!

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Maybe we should be frightened by the advent of AI and a 1950s-esque Sci Fi future where the machines slowly but surely enslave all of use organic types, but gosh darn if I just love using this brand spanking new technology in ways that really are more fun than locking oneself in the bathroom. AI's the way for any of us to fulfill our ideas by fleshing 'em out in ways that our limited craniums (well, speaking for myself that is) could never conjure up no matter how hard we slip the ol' thinking caps on, and if you're curious enough and want to see just how things might turn out, or how they would have had reality had turned out differently than it did, then going on an AI site where you can just peck a few words in and marvel at the wonders that result it just the thing for all of us!

The following pics were inspired by my father's reactions to various lines in old sitcoms from the sixties and seventies where the infamous automobile the Edsel (for you young'uns, a major humiliation for the Ford Motor Company 1958-60) would be mentioned as part of some usually lame gag. The phrase "That went out with the Edsel" (a riff on the once-oft used "That went out with the bustle") was occasionally used, as were references to the automobile in various punchlines back when memories of that particular automotive failure was still fresh in many people's minds.

But what used to get Dad really uptight was when a line about an Edsel from a model year WHEN IT WAS NOT IN PRODUCTION would be uttered! Personally I always thought such gaffes were errors on the part of the actors who couldn't remember the correct date in the script and hadda do some ad libbing, but when Gale Gordon would mention something about "a 1939 Edsel" on HERE'S LUCY boy did Dad go off on a tangent about these scriptwriters not knowing beans about automobile history! I remember a 1962 Edsel once getting namedropped (that also got Dad hot and bothered!) wondering...what would one look like? Well, all these years later AI can finally solve for us such a problem thus ending years of puzzlement and perhaps downright anxiety on my part.

The following are some of AI's ideas as what the 1961 Edsel would have been if actually "fleshed out"---pardon the slight lack of symmetry in some of these examples this being the early, virgin days of the form:

Hmmmm, these renditions, especially the final one which would have aped the Pontiac grille of the following year the same way the '60 Edsel swiped from the '59 Pontiac, seem to be somewhat close to what the reality just might have been. However, the third one does come too close to comfort to the '60 Oldsmobile. But what about 1962? (The first one reminds me a whole lot of the 1963 Prince Gloria):

 

Boy am I getting carried away! Now onto 1963:

And now, in homage to both Gale Gordon and my father, here are some 1939 Edsels!:

Now for a brief change of scenery, a rendition of another long-lost make, the 1961 Packard (I attempted to see what 1967 and '69 Studebaker Larks would have looked like but all I got were Opel Kadetts and Vauxhall Victors)!:

And here's a 1963 Packard-Ghia (was expecting a way-sportier looking model---this 'un comes off more 1958 with some 1960 Plymouth tossed in but wha' th' hey)!:

All I gotta say is Aldous Huxley just hadda've wrong all along because it's gonna be a FUNZIE New World! 

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READING MATERIAL FROM THE AFTERNOON OF FEBRUARY 2, 2025-I cracked open a box of fanzines and whatnot while spinning records during a nice 'n snowy day and y'know what I found? THROAT CULTURE #'s 2 and 3...I really like their layout and definitely neo-CREEM feel which, for an early 'nineties rag, reminds me more of some of the late-seventies/early eighties under-the-underground efforts that were definitely influenced by that once-esteemed Detroit mag. Good 'nuff attitude especially given the sorry state of rockscribing and general lack of true punkitide that was abundant during them times. The Lester Bangs ish (#2) a work in itself as is the other 'un despite the Chuck Eddy interview and contributions from both Eddy and the equally self-important Richard Riegel, both of whom I hope are having ongoing seizures now that Trump is president. And editor Rob O'Connor had the nerve to drop my article on bootleg cassettes because the Leonard Cohen interview ran longer'n expected! These things do happen but for some strange reason I believe he was just saying this as an excuse not to run my definitely subpar contribution and didn't want to hurt my feelings. That's not what gets me...what does is the fact that O'Connor scammed a load of money for an ad of mine he was to have run in a nonexistent future issue and boy could I use that $$$ right about now! Well, his behavior does make me glad that I woke his father up some late night when Rob wasn't home and got the old coot pretty mad! THE NEW YORK ROCKER (July/August 1980)-this is the ish that sold out pronto so I hadda borrow a copy which goes to show you just how unlucky I can be. A pretty on-target sans the sentimental goo seen today tribute to the Velvet Underground appears, though most of the rest goes to remind me as to just how a good portion of this under-the-underground music was starting to get somewhat ginchy (and not in an Edd "Kookie" Byrnes way) at the time. Maybe if the editors spent more time writing up acts like Von Lmo and Sorcerers and less hyping the B-52s. PSYCHOTRONICs #39 and #40 - these are the weekly bulletins that Michael Weldon put out, not the magazine of renown that appeared a good eight years later. Nice hand-printed layout similar to Weldon's movie list that appeared in a 1977 issue of CLE. Brings back fond memories of how some people with a good enough antenna and stations worthy of tuning in could get some mighty good television entertainment w/o paying the usually exorbitant cable and dish prices. SON OF BIOHAZARD INFORMAE - Fred Mills (a guy who cut me off when his precious socio-political feelings were being bruised by my thankfully counter-the-counterculture opines ---  eh!) and his post BIOHAZARD which, this time, is mostly made up of letters from various fanzine types telling us lumps why they feel compelled to do such things as make their opinions known in the first place. Quite sparkling if I do say so myself even if Mills never would sell me the original BIOHAZARD rag (he said they were sold out---right Charlie!). EUROCK (some early-eighties or so issues) - always good to read about continental acts like Etron Fou Leloublan and the Plastic People of the Universe. The punk attitude of earlier issues when names like the Velvet Underground and Stooges were mingled amid those like Guru Guru and Amon Duul as if they were all part of the same vast conspiracy (they were) is sadly missing. Still a nice slab of music history dangled in front of my eyes. OSMOTIC TONGUE PRESSURE #3 - another fanzine with a late-seventies feel and strut in a blanded out 90s world. Could have used more of that punk spout I personally like but eh. Did I tell you that I actually felt sadness when I heard that editor Mike Kinney croaked? Probably the last time I will feel bad when finding out that any other 'zine editor has passed this veil of boo-hoos!

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OBIT TIME: I thought Jules Feiffer had died ages ago and was totally surprised to find out that he passed away at the ripe old age of 95 a good few weeks back. Here's a guy I will say I have mixed feeling about...he does get his bonus points for having worked with Wil Eisner on THE SPIRIT as well as for writing that book on the Golden Age of superhero comics that was a pre-teenbo fave of mine. However, who can forget his self-titled comic that appeared in THE VILLAGE VOICE (won't stick any retches in between "village" and "voice" since that mag has been de-fanged long ago having about as much relevance these days as MS.) that was big with each and every wannabe NYC chi-chi snob I ever ran into. 

In case you don't recall the long-running FEIFFER comic strip well, it was one of those big anti-right/middling political rants being made by yet another off-the-rails New York liberal type who, unlike fellow NYC liberal Dave Berg, didn't seem befuddled by the way things were evolving and pretty much dove head first into the even Newer Than The New Left brigades as time passed. His knock you over the head preachy and stereotype-riddled comics were, if anything, the precursor to what most baby-boomer (and a few generations after) political strips eventually evolved into...mainly unfunny (and un-convincing since being funny doesn't always matter as long as one is trying to be snide) tirades against the usual pastiches of whatever was offending the various do-gooder types who were always on the lookout for some target they could definitely feel superior to.

I remember one incident involving Feiffer that still gets me chucklin' lo these many years later. It was during the early-eighties when, in a strip dealing with a working man type angry over the fact that the ethnic and racial slurs he uses are no longer savvy, Feiffer used that word to describe people of African heritage that rhymes with Roy Rogers' horse in an attempt to make his point or something along those pitiful lines. Naturally he included such a word in order to mock the knuckle-dragging mentalities of blue collar men who have to put in long hours for a fraction of the pay I'm sure Feiffer was earning, but the reaction the cartoonist ended up getting was...well, perhaps just what one would expect given the tight-twatted mentalities of the kind of people who read the VV for reasons other than the various arts and music writeups. It turns out that in the following ish of that esteemed fishwrap there was a somewhat large ad taken out decrying Feiffer's ill-choice of wordage that was signed by a whole slew of contributors and other hanger-onners (members of various radical left pressure groups etc.), all written up in that haughty "virtue signaling" way that you would expect from either self-anointed En Why See revolutionaries or graduates of Quaker colleges. Y'know, it sure is fun watching these people in their quest to take their altruism to new heights eat each other in their particularly backstabbing, heartless ways. And I should know all about being backstabbed in particularly heartless ways believe you me!

Eh, I'll give him the credit for his early comic book work. And who knows, maybe he was a neat guy to talk to 'n all, But somehow, given his portrayals of the working class, conservatives or whatever he thought conservatives were, anti-feminists and generally non-Feiffer types I sincerely doubt it, unless you were exactly like him that is.

Then there's that walking medicine cabinet MARIANNE FAITHFULL who also did the 86 a week or so back. Surprised she lived so long given her penchant for the powdery stuff, but her beautifully off-key version of "As Tears Go By" continues to satisfy even more than the Stones' syrupy take (never really cozied up to "Broken English" to be as honest as Brad Kohler about it). A woman who was to Mars Bars what Monika Lewinsky was to Coronas.

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I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts this time, with quite a few that I actually purchased if you can believe it. The ones I didn't were burned by Paul McGarry and Robert Forward, and if I find 'em in the mess of my bedroom maybe a few others.

Sun Ra-DISCO 3000 2-CD set (Art Yard Records)

Bought this 'un because I wanted to hear Ra in a small group setting where he and John Gilmore, Marshall Allen and a few of the other regs were more up front and glaring. No Allen here but it turns out that this expanded edition of the old DISCO 3000 release (live in Milan 1978) is just the kind of effort I was down in the trenches for! 

Forget the obvious fact that the title that a title such as the one being used was merely an attempt to sucker the trendies in the same way Hitler called his movement "National Socialism" because socialism was hot potatoes at the time and well, it sounded up-to-date 'n all even if it had little to do with the actual socialist setup. But anyway, this sorta disco's got nothing to do with lighted dance floors and dagos in white suites one bit! Its just more of Ra during one of his thankfully less lucid moments along with Gilmore as well as two guys newer to the Ra-sphere, mainly Michael Ray on trumpet (he also did the neeto autobiographical booklet notes) and drummer Luqman Ali, someone who must've played exclusively on Ra's Eyetalian jaunt because I couldn't find anything else about him on the web. Not that I was exactly doing a thorough search.

Who cares, since these two disques are pretty hotcha Ra doing his old faves with some new interplanetary buzz thrown in. As far as my bean can recall Ra and Gilmore never let any of us down (gotta find some of those seshes with Gilmore as leader, not to mention his performance with Allen as well as Steve Lacy at the old CBGB 313 Gallery hinthinthint!). The new guys fit in swell enough---I guess they watched all of those films about various philosophical doo-dah and teaching statues how to sing...and understood them. But as you all could guess, this is more of that heavy duty Ra (as if there ever was light Ra), and although this might not be worth your getting if you're low on the moolah and there's so much of the guy's work out there to sample, splurging would be advised.

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Ornette Coleman & Prime Time-TONE DIALING CD (Verve Records)

I approached this later-on Prime Time album with some trepidation, or at least caution considering that it was recorded during a time when even the new jazz thing was being co-opted by influences both brilliant (punk) and feh (rap). T'would figure that the latter would be utilized on track #2 "Search For Life" which woulda made your typical rock critic of the day (1995) do some major league BVD creaming, but for me it just dates the thing to a time and place I'd prefer to get out of my mind. Eh, some of it like the Bach Prelude is very pretty (the irregular drum beat sorta keeps it from being a total tip to the classical bent) before heading into a more appropriate atonal sphere. "Miguel's Fortune", "Ying Yang", "Family Reunion" and "Badal" traipse somewhat into the punk funk realm to satisfy alla you early-eighties lower Manhattan wannabe junkies. Overall it ain't what I would call top notch, but it's good enough even if it does have some of them 80s/90s hallmarks of superslick sound and production that always irritate anti-hi-fi nuts like myself.

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Various Artists-BROWN ACID - THE SEVENTEENTH TRIP CD-r burn (originally on Riding Easy Records)

Here's some brown acid you should take! A collection of what a few of us just might call authentic late-sixties and beyond hard psych that reminds me a whole lot of Cold Sun without the autoharp or those noisy guys from down the street your mother always sneered at wond'rin why Mrs. Fafoofnik didn't march her son straight to the barber shop. You get everything from downright organ-dominated garage band romp to an ode to Smokey the Bear and (as if it would be any surprise) some lightweight pandering to the occult. This might come off a little too "get down" for my own and perhaps your tastes, but gosh-it-all if I find these tracks a whole lot more getcha down the esophagus than some of the sounds that were supposed to replace this type of music. If your idea of a local group singles compilation is more in line with the BACK FROM THE GRAVE series its best you steer clear.

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Phuong Tam-MAGICAL NIGHTS CD-r burn (originally on Subliminal Frequencies Records)

No "Hey Joe, you got chew gum" jokes here! Mid-sixties Viet sensation doin' the pop slop for local tastes and perhaps even a few restaurants. Good sexy slush that recalls a whole load of early memories of short wave radio dial spinning, only without the static. Somehow I could just see Tam singing for a bunch of drunk and rambunctious Amerigan soldiers at some seedy dive, wond'rin why she ever decided to lower herself like this in the first place. If "Sukiyaki" had only opened the floodgates of far eastern pop maybe some of these would have made the top ten. But do be careful...listen to enough of this and you might feel like committing an atrocity!

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THE AMERICAN DREAM LP (Ampex Records)

This late-sixties Todd Rundgren-produced platter never did snuggle itself into some nice 'n comfy place in the annals of obscurer-than-thou lost rockist efforts. Sad to say, but the American Dream just weren't as high energy as I and perhaps even you would have hoped from an obscure act of the distant past, one that had all of the hallmarks of punk promise but ended up like just any other close but no cigar group that cluttered up a flea market bin for years on end. These Dreamers really don't hit the same heights of 60s/70s cusp cataclysm music the same way their equally obscure compatriots like Black Pearl and Hackamore Brick did---quite a shame given how they seemed as if they'd come off as a nice, straight ahead rock group at least judging from the tiny bit of prior hearsay that has been goin' on 'round 'em. At times the Dream remind me of a gutsier Nazz and they had the potential to perform some outright scream-out trackage, but for some reason it seems as if someone's holding them back. Gee, I wonder who...

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Borbetomagus-SAUTER, DIRTRICH, MILLER, DOHERTY CD; SAUTER, DIETRICH, MILLER CD (Agaric Records)

There've been so many of these Borbetomagus spinners comin' out during the group's lifespan (and after I s'pose) for me to keep up with, so when I pick what's best for me boy do I pick carefully given the sparsity of cool cash comin' my way! Decided to settle with these two which just happen to be the first two Borbetomagus albums, here re-released in digitized form. There ain't much on these v. late-seventies/early-eighties recordings that differentiate these Borbetomagus platters from most of the later ones I've heard other'n the presence of electronics player Brian Doherty on the first (and one track on #2) and well, if you are the type of he-man who likes your avgarde on the atonal free-side of things boy are these disques just right for you. Free play jazz teetering into the 'classical" with a rage that reminds me of some of the early AMM thingies I've heard in the past magnified about a thousand-fold. If you're serious about this stuff these just might be but one starting, or ending for that matter, place to go.

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Y'know, I coulda written the Great Amerigan Novel, cured hemorrhoids and bought out the candy store and given it to the poor and STILL nobody would give me my honest to goodness just dues (as if I really could give a hoot)! But I did create a fanzine called BLACK TO COMM and although I should have gotten some notoriety for that (not that I was particularly looking for any --- having fun was the first and foremost reason I did the thing) let's just say that I got NEGATIVE dues ifyaknowaddamean. If you're curious as to why, well why not click on the highlighted link above and see what all the ruckus is about, Bucky!

Overseas readers...beware the hefty postage and duty costs and ask about purchasing only if you are extremely serious and extremely rich for that matter. And don't be rude...I go to the post office with every made-up parcel to get the honest low down on how much it all will cost you (that involves time and gasoline!) and I absolutely hate 1) people who act all serious and then fail to notify me that they can't afford their order and 2) people who won't even respond after expressing interest leaving me in the lurch! Seen there have been way too many of you types doing just this these past few years and well, the less of you that I have to put up with the better I say!