Sunday, October 22, 2006


I dunno what the weather's like in your part of the world, but here in Sharon Pee-Yay we're smack dab inna middle of Autumn and boy do I hate it! Gotta say that for me Fall's the second worst season of the year...oh, it's OK at the beginning, but when the leaves start tumblin' down and you have to rake 'em up and scoop 'em outta the rain gutters hopefully avoiding any unseen cat manure or dormant bats in the process, the natural situation surely collides with one's sense of laziness! Then again, I also hate Winter because of all that snow one has to shovel up, and Spring ain't that hot of a time because the tree fuzz wreaks havoc with my nasal passages. Summer...well, I do have a soft spot in my heart for that time o' year mainly because it reminds me of when I was a kid and didn't have to go to school or act civilized'r anything! It's always nice to keep in touch with your Inner Brat.

Enough chat...before I clue you in to a number of interesting items that have come my way as of late (which I assume is the reason you tune into this blog, perhaps looking for a shard of something in-line with your sense of primitive rockism, or general slobboid Amerigan tastes, or both, or none for that matter), I know that you're more than anxiously awaiting my opinions on a certain new blog that has appeared on the internet scene which I assume will be making a big splash in the days to come. And yes, you would also be correct to think that I surely breathed a sigh of relief when the said blogschpieler had decided to abandon his previous blog for what at the time seemed like some totally occult reason. And while we're at it, yes dear reader, even """""I""""" harbored a few ideas/wishes that it was my own personal salvos against this bulwark of misinformation and downright distortion which brought his blog to a thankful demise, but alas that is not the case since the "man" has brought forth a totally new blog (not counting his beer-oriented one which I haven't yet perused since I never really cozied up to chic alcoholic microbrewery snobbery) onto the internet scene which, unlike his previous endeavor, will deal with subjects beyond the standard alternative/indie music clique which was the sum whole of the previous blog's existence for all the good or bad that may imply.

OK, as we all know by now that this mysterioso blogger is none other than one Jay Hinman, and his new blog goes under the moniker of Detailed Twang which, as Hinman explains on the said blog's initial post, is the name of some number by the British post-something group The Door and the Window. Funny, I almost bought one of their discs back in '79 back when Systematic Distribution had just changed their name from Renaissance Records, but I got over it. Still, I'm sure that more than a few recent visitors to BLOG TO COMM must wonder exactly what it is that I have against this guy (or more accurately, vice versa), and given the solemn occasion of a new blog from the pen, er, keyboard of Mr. Hinman maybe it is time to explain things all over again. After all, the year 2004 seems soooo long ago and memories are perhaps a bit hazy at this point in time, so for the newcomers to the BLOG TO COMM sphere of influence perhaps a little, or even a LOT of background and analysis is in ordure (no sic).

Anyhoo, for a little history if you you might or might not know, besides being the creator/moderator of this humble blog I am also the editor of what in my admittedly biased opinion is a nice albeit shifting-quality fanzine called BLACK TO COMM. Rather than give you a detailed rundown of the history of the fanzine which you can easily enough read elsewhere, let me just say that this title began in 1985 (for the previous four years I had been contributing to a variety of magazines and wanted less, uh, "editorial restrictions" with regards to many of my more scabrous submissions) and within a few years the creation had evolved from a fun yet low-budget crudzine to a nice offset-printed publication which at times has even included a bonus compact disc featuring some extremely rare (still!) music that I had been championing yet had not made it out beyond the confines of a few eager beaver collectors and rockism maniacs like myself. And, after over twenny years at the helm all I gotta says is that I most certainly am proud of my efforts in dishing these BLACK TO COMMs out at an unsuspecting (or perhaps unprepared) populace, although I certainly would have done a lotta things differently had I the chance to do it all over again like be even nastier to a lotta the enemies of rock & roll and all high energy musics who unforunately wield a little too much power out there, if you get my drift.

The oddest thing about putting out these BLACK TO COMMs not only on such a shoestring budget with an irregularity more akin to the winner of a peanut butter eating contest has always been that...although I'd been doing it for what seems like ages on end and have more or less cultivated a mystique and aura about the thing, it always seemed as if when each new issue had arrived it was like I was starting all over again in getting people to know that not only did this fanzine exist, but that """""I""""" did as well. Believe-you-me, it sure did get frustrating after awhile banging my head on doors and coming up with the "who's he???" response more often than not, and you can bet that I sure understood what Eddie Haskell meant when he told Wally that he hadda act like a big brass band to get anyone out there to notice him because I sure hadda as well. And yeah, at times the self-hype and publicity-generation (or what I could do with such limited resources) did help a bit, but unfortunately when the much-needed publicity did come more often enough it was either way-too-patronising or more often than not downright destructive as Gerard Cosloy's oh-so-cute remarks in his once-Peter Gabriel-dominated fanzine would attest to.

That's why I had been anxiously awaiting any positive mention or comment (no matter how small or humble, though the bigger the better I always say!) regarding BLACK TO COMM when the blasted thing would arrive from the printers and into your sweaty palms. Sure, such responses never resulted in any issues instantly selling out nor did whatever publicity that may have been generated really add up to any great shakes on my behalf, but at least a mention from Byron Coley in SPIN would bring in two or three orders at best plus would plant a few seeds in a number of fertile minds out there. And, like I said, with doing a new issue almost like starting from scratch and many distributors refusing to touch the thing (and with helpful and friendly people the likes of Ted Gottfried going under with his very beneficial SEE HEAR distribution biz and magazine shoppe) I was anxiously awaiting any real positive appraisals of the thing given all of the brick walls I had been ramming into all these years. So maybe that's why I was hoping that I would have gotten a pretty nice writeup of my latest issue from blogger David Lang (see picture immediately below). And let me just add that at the time Dave was writing up a review of the mag, I really coulda used an uplifting pat on the back. Not that's I'm that much of a down-inna-dumps feller, but let's just say (without breaking out the violins playing "My Heart Bleeds For You"!) that besides the heavy tension of having to put out this fanzine and a lotta the personal upheavals happening in my life (things which delayed the latest issue's release by over a year), my spirits were pretty much chungered given alla the emotional strain and stress coming from all directions at the time, and the LAST thing that I needed was a back-stab the intensity of the one I was to get from Mr. Lang on his Lexicon Devil blog! And although this was well over two years ago all I STILL gotta say is man, was that a deep cut!

In order to sum things up in the proper perspective sorta way, lemmee just say that on his blog Lang nonchanantly told his lumpen audience that oh, he really likes the fanzine and thinks its all gosharootie, but boy is he hot and bothered by the (get this!) racism, sexism, homophobia etc. that certainly reeks in my work! Heavy-duty claims dontcha think, and claims that really can be uttered with ease but as Joseph Sobran said are pretty hard to defend. Now, given that Lang is a liberal and one of the particularly rancid European variety I can understand just how he would have little real comprehension of just what racism really is (especially given that he lives in Australia, where racism against Asians is rampant yet I have no evidence that Lang is a basher of anyone so at least I will not cast aspersions upon whatever is left of his dignity!). After all, in today's rather restrictive clime, a white man who is murdered by black thugs is a racist while a black man murdered by white thugs is a victim...OK, that is way too much a generality but perhaps not too far from the point. (I mean, remember that black guy who got dragged to his death by some klan-types in Texas awhile back? That made the front pages and evening news and had garments rent all over this land, though similar crimes where whites have been dragged to their deaths by blacks have certainly been, er, consigned to the back section if lucky!) Now, I don't expect Dave, living in the comfy confines of Australia and all, to comprehend what American race relations are all about, and if complaining about certain situations where there certainly are injustices dealt against white people by blacks (vice-versa for that matter) or via whatever court-sanctioned injustice and arbitrary law there is out there makes me a "racist" then I'm sure that racism is blooming all over the place, and I guess that also makes a lotta black people racist against their own as well!

I could say the same things about all them other charges, but I think I put Lang in his proper place (the toilet) with my original response to his pallid argument here so why rehash a lotta old turds anyway? However, one bad thing that came from Lang's post was that another, way more popular blog, went on the record seconding Lang's position, sort of. Y'see, a day or so after Lang made his "damning" accusations against me and my magazines (while dragging in all sortsa conjecture regarding my "private life" which I believe should have remained private given that I'm not gay or at any risk to the populace at hand), our old pal Jay Hinman wrote a post that pretty much stated that he (gosh darn it!) agreed with Lang, although this personal smear also went out of its way to attack my musical faves (most notably Von Lmo and the Plastic People of the Universe, both acts who I guess are "beneath contempt" in Jayzey's sphere o' things although he once did write me a nice li'l note praising the likes of Lmo live more or less so I guess he's changed his tune). Not only that, but he cast aspersions upon my personal life and mocked what he called my repetitive nature (a gross exaggeration, especially for a guy who writes about the same tired eighties underground acts incessantly!), garnering a whole lotta pile-on hatred directed towards me and my fanzine in the process. Not that I mind snippy little hit-and-run remarks especially when they're tossed out by mental midgies and talentless hacks the likes of J. Neo Marvin, but amongst the pilers were a few people who I, hate to admit it, considered friends at least on a distant, pen-pal sorta level. Like that dumb Swede Heinrich Olausson who has turned out to have been the Viduken Quisling of the fanzine world for taking the word of an outright DISTORTER over mine. Really, I never had any beefs with any of these people, not Tom Lax (who has turned out to be a bigger decadent buttwipe than any of us could have fathomed during his SILTBREEZE days) nor Scott Soriano (who made me ashamed that I even dared review his Monoshock compilation, a disque you can bet I'll never be playing again!), and I especially had no qualms with Steve Hesske who hadda turn from top-notch BLACK TO COMM booster to trendy turncoat heel when he discovered his bread was better buttered on the Hinman side of things. Listen Steve, I never had any argument, any qualms with you and considered you a useful lieutenant in the war against the jive, but hey if you wanna pick little fights and berate me every chance you can get via email while siding with the enemy go ahead. Maybe if you weren't acting like such a hothead I would have given you credit for sending me that MC5 burn in my review (I know that little faux pas got you so bent-outta-shape!), but hey, it's not like I'm that much of a sucker for punishment. And by-the-way, my description of your comments regarding boxer Jack Johnson were related IN PERFECT CONTEXT without any personal distortions whatsoever, as your letter reprinted from TEENAGE WASTELAND GAZETTE below will perfectly illustrate:

Dear Adny,

Right after I wrote you that last letter I got the latest and greatest copy of TWG, and I just wanted to fill you in on the recent survey we conducted concerning Armed Forces TV over here. Pops Savage says its pretty good cause you don't have to worry about which show to watch since we only get one American station (the rest are German). Ray Schuyler from up in your neck of the woods (ed. note: a cliche!) likes it cause there are no commercials except for the anti-drug ones and the re-up ones. Jack Johnson (not the famous spook boxer [my itals], nor any relation because he's white) doesn't like it on account when you don't like something you can't change the station unless you want to watch a bunch of dumb krauts speaking krautese. Myself, I got pretty pissed off when they took off HAWAII FIVE-O and changed the time of BOXING AT THE FORUM from saturday afternoon to late monday night and they also took ROLLER DERBY. On the other hand, they show ROUTE 66 now and also NAKED CITY so, as you can readily see it was no easy decision to make so I'm going to hold off for awhile. Later WALT DISNEY PRESENTS came on and it was all about this crippled kid who raised pigeons in his spare time cause he had a lot of spare time cause he was a gimp and lived in a wheel chair......... What a show!! Keep up the good work.

Hats off to Larry (not Willette),

Sgt. Steve Hesske

Now, frankly I don't see any sign of racism in Hesske's above missive, nor did I originally present his above comment out of context like Hesske claims. (He told me it was all in the spirit of what was going on at TEENAGE WASTELAND GAZETTE, and I agreed since even Adny Shernoff himself had a disclaimer about the humor in one ish!) And after all this nastiness back and forth twixt the two of us all I gotta say is hey Steve, if you wanna be pal-zy again I have no qualms, but at least fess up to the fact that I in no way was gunnin' to smear your reputation, and while we're at it I'm not the only one to use cliches either!

Of course all of this happened over the course of the past two years, seemingly an incredible chasm in time once you get down to it. And hey, I gotta admit that I'm still smartin' over all of those gut kicks placed by the likes of Lang and Hinman, with sales in the red and a general lack of interest regarding my fanzine, this blog, and my other endeavors whatever they may be. True, both of these fine upstanding self-made men deleted their posts concerning their abject hatred of me for occult reasons (frankly I was hoping they'd leave 'em up if only to eventually bury themselves), but the seething hatred I have for them, and their turncoat lackeys remains. As it should.

But what does that have to do with Hinman's new blog? Well, little if anything. Y'see, I probably won't be reading the thing even though I know that a whole buncha his radical left pals will undoubtedly be leaving comments quoting Jay's little snide asides regarding me (so what else is old?). And who knows, maybe I'll POST 'em! But frankly, should I really care? I mean, being a high-energy music lover and cheerleader for the BLOG TO COMM "lifestyle" whether it be regarding books, tee-vee, moom pitchers etc., you ought to know by now that most if not all of the things that Jay posts about has very little appeal to my sense of gulcheral values! Y'see, I gave up on a lotta what was getting tossed around as "post-punk" or "amerindie" or what-have-you beginning in the very-late-eighties (figuring that little if any of it has any relevance to my own personal tastes), and frankly reading the rants and raves of a "militant athiest" the likes of Jay won't exactly mesh with a Pope Pius XII fan like myself. Y'see, I'm more into this thing called rock & roll, and saying that Jay doesn't write about music meaningful to me would be like saying that THE ADVOCATE doesn't publish articles relevant to my sexual slant, or that COMEDY CENTRAL isn't attuned to my own sense of humor. So good luck with your new endeavor, and remember that what you and Dave did to me will probably somehow come around full circle one of these days and smack you upsides the heads. And who knows, maybe I'll be around to enjoy the fun and games, which would be fitting!

OK, now onto something a lot more entertaining...anyway, following are reviews of just a few of the gulcheral items that have passed my eyes and ears over the past week or so, and I do know that you'll enjoy reading about all this booty as much as I've had stealing it!

SONNETS FOR BILL DOGGETT by Bill Shute (Kendra Steiner Editions)

Dag nabbit, but I just gotta admit to you that I'm downright jealous of this Bill Shute fellow. Here it's been nine whopping years that he's vamoosed himself outta my life (and the lives of just about everyone but Paul McGarry, who actually got invited to Bill's wedding a few years ago!) especially at a time when I coulda used some of his insightfulness and downright homespun telephone hospitality, and now that he's making a "comeback" everybody's drooling over the guy's deck shoes as if he's Peter Laughner fresh from the grave! In the meanwhile, what do I get but a whole lotta grief, bad publicity and a stack of fanzines just beggin' to be turned into moolah for musical and dining purposes! All kiddin' aside, it's sure nice to see Bill Shute shinin' on the spotlight after pullin' that Houdini-inspired disappearing act, and as he commanded me to do I will now review one of the chapbooks he has so graciously flung my way being such a gracious guy 'n all.

I've always considered Bill a friend even when we were locking horns over my Downliners Sect review or when I expressed to Mike Stax my frustrations over not being able to talk to him like we did inna old days, so don't expect me to give you a totally impartial writeup regarding his latest endeavor. And it's a wowzer, dedicated to the late Bill Doggett (whom I believe Shute used to rail off to me some profound musical descriptions some of which may have even made the pages of my mag via his old "Inner Mystique" column) and not only that but this book's filled to the brim with some great verseage that's even loads better'n the slop Bobby Troupe used to spout off when he was playing a murdering beatnik on PERRY MASON. Even a retarded dullard like myself can appreciate this 'un, for Bill's "blank" verse does not shovel romantic or political dross like all that stuff you read in various VILLAGE VOICE-type fishwraps, because BILL DOGGETT focuses itself on a real life segment of living that you or I, but not the usual above-it-all upper-crust limousine libs, can most certainly relate to. Take "Slow Walk" and its dank New Jersey "ambience" where not only can you smell the anchovy pizza but feel the pit in Denny's guts as his life is about to take a turn for... Well, I really can't tell you, but reading it sorta gives me the feeling I used to get the night before a big job interview. And amidst the "buttery clam chowder" and hot rolls (and Buster Keaton vids!) of "Ready Mix" to the one about the nun who finds joy despite the extra-busy regiment of serving others (which come to think of it is her joy), you get the feeling that Bill, unlike the earlier-mentioned bloggers more attuned to gazing at their own sphincters, is still firmly rooted in real life and would rather spend his days talking to pensioners, guys on the edge, factory workers and nuns rather than "amerindie"-minded wastrels. BLACK TO COMM readers tend to be that way. It's like when Brad Kohler tells me about the people he works for at the old age home and there's this one lady in her 80s or 90s and he asked her about Joe Cook and she drew a blank, but she sure lit up when he mentioned Harry Langdon saying "You could laugh by just looking at the man!" You may think its corny, but really, I can't stand all this decadent porno gutter living nohow and being a downhome workaday fellow is a lot better'n being a bigtime hothead porn-saturated white-collar cluck, albeit it probably doesn't pay as much. I think Bill thinks the same way too, and his down-to-earth and direct-hitting poems sure say a lot more to/for/and even about me than all of the negative schpiels and fancy oneupmanship out there directed against me ever could!

(And I liked the one about weird dreams too, though I gotta say that the gal in question's night-time brain activity certainly doesn't top the ones I've been having, and have documented on this blog for all to analyze!)

The Marbles-LIVE AT MAX'S KANSAS CITY 5/27/78 CD-R

As I said in the previous post, a certain (or uncertain for that matter!) Mr. J. B. has just recently sent a number of burnt discs my way, and although for the life of me I can't get the Pink Floyd and Raspberries ones to play on my home entertainment system the audio disques are no problem at all, at least on the car deck. Anyway, I was pleased as punch to have received them even if I have to take long car trips to Alliance Ohio in order to enjoy the things, and once again Mr. B. deserves a huge THANK YOU for his neato efforts in helping to uplift the sad sack state of musical affairs here at BLOG TO COMM central with his occasional care packages. Anyway, this particular disque in question was the tops for pops as far as the aforementioned package goes, it being a live show from the oft-talked about but rarely listened to En Why See band the Marbles recorded back during the punk-active summer of 1978 when punk meant having to say that you were an original music band (and probably very little else).

Like the Planets and many other groups perusing the CBGB/Max's circuit during the Glory Days of Underground Rock, the Marbles were one of those bands that were often read about but rarely if ever seen (live), or heard for that matter. Maybe they were too much indebted to the poppier side of the sixties (with hefty Left Banke/Hollies/Beatles influences) to "make it" with the punk-active crowd at hand, but at least their name and faces were kept in the public eye thanks to a couple of now-rare singles and publicity thanks to the likes of BOMP magazine and FFANZEEN, who actually did an interview with these guys in the same issue they had a gab with the James Chance-era Teenage Jesus and the Jerks! And even I, after all these years, have gotta admit that the only Marbles I've heard was a track on one of those old ROIR samplers, the poppy "Red Lights" which was nice yet didn't quite make me think that the Marbles were any sort of higher echelon local garage band types 'r anything along those lines but hey, I get that way sometimes.

So you can bet that B.'s disque sure came in handy with regards to educatin' this particular sap! At this live Max's show, the Marbles proudly show off their sixties roots (complete with their sixties-Beatlecut stylings which for once match the patented late-seventies/early-eighties "power-pop" retro sound too many scenegrabbers took way to heart) not only with the better-than-you'd-expect three-part harmony but with the snat playing, especially from Eric Li and his electric piano. Musically the Marbles seem to scour the best of the '66 pop brigade (Left Banke, early San Francisco post-Brummels) with their energetic set (why do you think they would cover Johnny Rivers' "Poor Side of Town" anyway?) and the only fault I could find with this disque was that too many songs had too many melodies jam-packed tightly into each other making for at-times difficult listening. I mean, the Marbles utilize great melodies and couple 'em with pertinent lyrics to boot, but it seems that the seven different riffs that fit into one number would have been put to better use as seven different songs! Not as good as the long-missed Disposable God Squad, but I would definitely say that the Marbles are better than even the more-current Morgan Taylor's Rock Group, a band who I hung a few hopes on as far as resurrecting seventies-bred sixties pop for the oh-ohs, but then again I think they're out of commission as well so I'll have to go looking for a new generation of popmeisters to bring back the energy and excitement of yore.


Another Mr. B. find, this immaculately-sounding disque is none other'n THE CARS under their original name recording some demos smack dab inna middle of one of the more proactive times for Boston rock, at least if all those fanzine articles can be trusted. Now frankly, I gotta admit that I never was that much of a Cars fan and found their entire oeuvre a bit too nauseating during the candy-coat gnu wave days of the eighties, and because of that I didn't have high hopes about these demos either even though they were recorded long before the seventies underground seemed solid enough and didn't peter off into various directions and factions. But B.'s description of these early Cars as being sorta like the Velvet Underground filtered through...I think B. also mentioned Roxy Music and Steely Dan (a band whom I gotta say I used to have an affinity for, at least during their early single days, though that might have just been adolescent confusion) sounded interesting enough, like when people would describe a certain group as coming off like the Stooges meet Mantovani or something equally stupid yet for some reason the """SUCKER!!!"""-light didn't start blinking on and off in your mind, so I guess I figured WHY NOT???

So these early Cars really don't sound that much different than the group of more reknown, though at least their mid-seventies sense of rock aesthetics sure comes off more digestable than the late-seventies ones that made 'em such hot fodder for the gnu wave crowd. In many ways Cap 'n Swing sound a lot like some of the more pop-oriented groups who were playing Boston at the time like Susan f'rinstance, only even this early in the game the pop slop is saturating the hot pop chordings and more of Roxy's suave stylings as opposed to avant leanings are obviously being tampered with for purely commercial effect. A special surprise on this disque are the two rewrites of the Velvets' "Here She Comes Now" done with a Bryan Ferry chicness that sounds more in tune with what that man (and the Cars as well) were doing in the early-eighties. Nice enough as a once-in-awhile listen, but the Fans outta Georgia did this much better and at the same time as well.

Lake Of Dracula-SKELETAL REMAINS CD (Savage Land)

I'd be lying if I didn't tell you that I had an aversion of sorts to all of the talk about a Chicago no wave revival that was going on a decade back. As I've said many times before I always considered no wave "proper" the primitive style of punk (and other musics mixed in) that was happening in New York City during the years 1977 to 1981 or so, and anything else even from the burgh in its aftermath (such as God is my Co-Pilot) was more or less "post" no wave, a totally different animal if you ask me. So maybe that's why I had some trepidation with regards to this new collection of decade-old material that head Lake of Dracula (and Chicago no wave leader) Weasel Walter sent my way. Frankly I didn't know what to expect with this one...rehashed Lydia Lunch bleats or Mars slide guitar cantatas? Good thing I didn't do a Meltzer and review this one by solely looking at the cover!

As it turns out, Lake of Dracula were a pretty good, tight if you will punk band, not really "no wave" to these ears but pretty much in-tune with a lotta the other punkers who were making their blare known to a wide array of fanzine scribblers at the time. Personally, at the time I sat out on most of this blast (figuring that what I did hear couldn't hold a candle to the sounds that paved the way for this modern blarescapading), but even though I ain't an au-thor-oh-tee on most of this nineties scrunch I was held rapt by what Lake of Dracula were doing on this live outing (with various single sides tossed in for good measure). It's good enough post-whatever music I guess and it probably won't be burning up the lasar launch pad the way other current faves do, but Lake of Dracula were much better than even I would have given them credit for ten years back and if your tastes tend to lean towards the more atonal modern ice-stare, then why not pick it up???

Can-INNER SPACE CD (Thunderbolt UK)

Silly me...I was under the impression that INNER SPACE contained nothin' but those recently-reissued early Can sides on one shiny disque, but it turns out that INNER SPACE is nothing but the final Can album when the band had all devolved to the point of art rock nada 'n even the guys at FUTURE fanzine couldn't get behind 'em anymore! And yeah, I've been trying to avoid this particular period of Can's existence for years, but since I plunked down the money for this I guess I takes my cherce as Iggy once said so onto the launch pad it goes! At its best, INNER SPACE sounds like some of those nicer mid-seventies Can space-soothers that sound so relaxing during those late-night fanzine reading sessions I'm so fond of. At its worst (which is most of this disque), INNER SPACE paves the way for way too much eighties dance-rock tragedy that has made me an even bigger crank than I should have been to begin with. Judging from this one I would say that they broke up at the right time...I mean, imagine what the one after this woulda sounded like!

Don Cherry/Krzysztof Penderecki/The New Eternal Rhythm Orchestra-ACTIONS CD (no label)

I knew it was gonna be a dud since some other blogster of "note" (see above) gave it a good writeup, and y'know, I was right! I never did cozy up to Cherry's "world music" leanings though I thought that maybe the avant garde classicisms of Penderecki would have tamed them a bit. (And besides, I was hungering for some of those hot euro players the likes of Peter Brotzmann and Gunter Hampel.) But most of ACTIONS just lumps on lazily without any truly real hot avant playing to redeem Cherry's krishna overtones. Only does the 16:30 title track show any true promise, and believe it or not but it's Terje Rypdal's guitar that helps save this from being yet another budget tossaway!

BEFORE I GO, I thought I'd point out to you what promises to be the first of a new feature on Eddie Flowers' SLIPPYTOWN website, mainly the posting of classic old fanzines for modern-day perusal and abuse! Yes, Eddie probably got tired of me pestering him to make me copies of his SPOONFUL and NIX ON PIX fanzines and, in a fit of rage (or perhaps to save his sanity) he has decided to start sharing his collection with rock fandom fiends like ourselves online! And to start things off Eddie has actually made available for us in the here and now the debut (and best) issue (#0) of the infamous GULCHER fanzine...yes, why pay beaucoup bucks like I did for something you can now get for free, and besides the fanzine (which you can easily enough print up for your own bathroom reading material!) you're also entitled to some thirty-one-years-later musings from Flowers himself regarding the whys and wherefores of this important title, which besides being one of the classier fanzine reads of the day has also spawned a virtual dynasty as well as record/CD label! Believe-you-me, between the class writing (from the likes of Bangs, Meltzer, Highland, Flowers, Saunders and Cub Koda!) and the marvelous layout and mid-seventies hipster opinions sprinkled throughout, GULCHER #0 could teach Jay, Dave and the rest of the aforementioned blobs above what rock writing (and rock & roll) is all about, but I doubt any of them would have the mental acumen to take advantage of Flowers' free offer. Anyway, here's looking at you Eddie, and here's hoping that more fanzine classics from the REAL Golden Age (1971-1975) of Rock Writing will make it on-line and in the very-near future as well! (And Eddie, if you're reading this don't worry, I'll be winging my order your way as soon as Get Hip finally decides to pay me for the mags I sent 'em three years ago!)


Anonymous said...

Hey, Chris,
You'll be happy (I hope!!!) to know
that Brad Kohler and I have just worked out the details of a
collaborative book of poetry we'll be doing together based on, of course, horse racing. I've been a big fan of Brad's for many years,
so I'm excited about working with him. I'll be sure to send you one when it's ready, hopefully within a month or two, before the end of 2006.

Bill Shute

Christopher Stigliano said...

Bill-Brad filled me in on your collaboration already! Dunno how much of a racetrack background you have, but I used to hang around with my uncle at the track a lot during the early-eighties, and have a depleted bankbook to prove it!

Anonymous said...

I actually prefer dog racing to horse racing ((whenever I travel, I am sure to hit local dog tracks, local minor-league baseball games, and local miniature golf courses)), but love the ponies also. In the mid-90s, I spent a lot of time at the track. I went back a few times recently, justifying it as "research" for
this project!

Bill Shute

Christopher Stigliano said...

Uh oh, there goes Kendra's college education!