Saturday, October 04, 2014

The death of one-time Youngstown Ohio congressman and eventually convicted felon James Traficant was one current event of the past week or so that, while not "affecting" me the same way the death of a close relative would, did make me take notice of a whole slew of things goin' on in my life. And those "things" include (amongst other sundries) the passage of time, my own mortality and of course the way things used to be in those days before the hippoid generation really changed whatever they got their privileged paws on, mostly for the worse. Really, when you looked at Traficant, you definitely saw the last of the sort of he-man who typified the politician back in the days before sensitivity and touchy-feelyisms began permeating the political sphere (and that, surprisingly enough, included the democrats [of which Traficant was a member] who now seem to be having a major contest to see who can out-emote each other), and at this point in time it's hard to believe that such a man existed in Washington who behaved like the former sheriff, and wasn't thought of as a male chauvinist goon by the dykes and snivelers in charge.

Nowadays it seems as if everything permeating the three branches of government here in the U.S. of Woe has become pussified beyond belief to the point where even Mister Rogers comes off as Testosterone Teddy next to the castratis you see ruling over us anymore. Sheesh, it's come to the point where if you wanna see any real strong individuals in the true change for progress in this world you have to look to Europe to find them. Heck, even Marine LePen comes off more masculine than the mewlers who clutter up the Amerigan political scene, and that lady's about as feminine as you can get especially when stacked up against anybody who has been, is on, and will be on THE VIEW.

I sure do remember back when a younger and slimmer Traficant was running for sheriff back '77 way with his full-throttle, no-holds-barred television commercials permeating every break during those evening ODD COUPLE reruns. And unlike every other Mahoning County sheriff who had come before (or after), it wasn't like you could avoid reading about the guy who was on the news every night whether it be his constant smashing up of a sheriff's cruiser by using it as a battering ram on a biker meth lab or gambling raid, or even the time he spent three nights in the slammer rather than serve eviction notices to poor folk who couldn't pay the bills. A bigger'n life guy who was the closest anyone in the area's come to Buford Pusser, and when he beat that mob bribery rap in '82 and ran for congress he only became bigger in the eyes of everyone in the tri-county area and eventually elsewhere.

Of course he made more'n a few enemies during his years in congress, and it looks as if those enemies did their best to bring him down which they most certainly did with his corruption trial which finally got him sent to the slammer. Funny, I always thought that the things Traficant got jailed for were particularly innocent and nothing that any real-life investigator would bother sticking nostrils into, and that those payoffs and gifts and favors such as the kind he got was just everyday biz in the Nation's Crapitol. I mean, I'm sure other congressmen made out like real bandits gobbling up all of the gifts that they were getting so they'd vote the "right" way, and none of 'em were heading for the hoosegow like ol' Traficant. Talk about a hard lesson in politics where more connected members of government can get away with tax evasion (a good idea unless you're a politician who gleefully raises taxes) yet someone who advocates a true reaming of the soul-killing aspects of life gets raked over the coals the way Traficant did.

Good thing that I never got elected to public office, or I might be finding out more sooner 'n later whether or not I have a gag reflex! But one thing's for sure and that is you never woulda seen Traficant on his knees fellating all of the people out there in politics-land who were demanding a proper and subservient bee-jay. And I know that even when he was rotting away behind bars Traficant never doubted his innocence or would conform to the current mode of insti-felch in order to climb his way into the favors of those evil powers that be and will remain.

But in my own befuddled ranch house blob way I do mourn the guy's passing, since he was not only screwed by the same government who screws us all on a daily basis but by the people who used to rah-rah him at every turn throughout the eighties and nineties yet wouldn't re-elect the guy when he ran for his congressional seat from his prison cell. Yeah I know that, even if he did win it would have been interesting to see how he could "govern" in his new surroundings, but if he somehow was able to pull off such a brilliant stunt such a situation really would have been a huge bug uppa ass for alla his enemies at THE YOUNGSTOWN VINDICATOR (typical snobbish anti-peon paper that deserves to die a quick death along with most if not every other fishwrap out there in "journalism" land) and elsewhere on the spectrum.

Oddly enough, the best send-off I've read regarding the guy ironically was on the paleocon/libertarian TAKI'S MAGAZINE site, which I will say  reminds me of one final thing regarding Traficant that maybe I should 'fess up to after all these years...before he went to prison I always thought that his hair was for real! Hey, if he WAS wearing a toupee, wouldn't ya thunk it woulda looked a whole lot more lifelike than the flop he had planted upon his scalp for a longer time'n any of us could have imagined?????
Well, here it is more or less, writeups of most if not all of the new 'n fresh to my not-so-virgin ears recordings that have made their way to my laser launching pad these past two weeks. Nothing spectacular true (talking about my reviews, not my selections) but I think it'll do given the amt. of emotional wringing out I've been receiving as of late...don't wanna crybaby about it, but I kinda think yer lucky to get the following stew if anything! But I won't bore you with this, though I will bore you by giving hefty thanks to the likes of P.D. Fadensonnen and Bill Shute for their help in making this week's entry more'n just a review of the Brotzmann/Sharrock CD, the only entry born of my hard-earned and nothing but this go 'round!

As soon as I get some scratch together and there's a tide of hotcha recordings being made available maybe you WILL be reading something more substantial, but I kinda doubt those days'll be coming back any time soon. After all, money is becoming a rather scarce commodity these days and it ain't like I can bop-a-dee-bop down to the local record store to pick up a rockin' wowzer the way I could have thirty-five or more years back! In fact there ain't any more record shops to prowl through like there were during my major vinyl scarfing days! Until the situation makes itself better on both monetary and musical fronts (and I say "HAH!" to both) it's gonna be jumping on every new release that even remotely looks as if it's gonna continue on the high energy exemplified by the 1974-1981 rock seasons, as well as comb the internet for downloads and whatnot featuring acts that may be deserving of a spin or two (oddly enough, youtube is a source for items you never thought you'd get your filthy little paws on!). I know...cut the shit and get to the reviews so as the Who once said, here 'tis...

Can-POITIERS FRANCE 1 & 2 CD-r burns burns (courtesy P. D. Fadensonnen)

Here's Can right about the time they were beginning to slink into the same doldrums of esoteric whooziz that affected a good portion of the same krautrock bands who were slowly but surely going from garage band to slick commercialism. Dunno who this "guest vocalist" Thaiga Raj Raja Ratnam is, but he does a pretty good job contributing to the group's already flippoid demeanor sounding almost as good as Damo Suzuki or even Magic Michael. The Can-sters themselves come off as typically improv/technical as they had been throughout the mid-seventies doing a whole load of material from the more recent platters as well as a version of "Mother Sky" that, while losing some of the intensity of the Suzuki-period live version, still manages to emit a bit of the same crunch that had people like Hot Scott Fischer telling Lester Bangs that Can were even better than the Stooges! If you're a newbie to the seventies krautscapading scene or were in on it from the John Peel get go, this is a good 'un for you to locate via the World Wide Web and download for your very own drug-induced stupor.
Mama Dada 1919-SLITS, QUICK CD-r burn (originally on the Out Music Company label)

When I first saw an ad for this rarity in the pages of CLE #3-A I must say that I was interested. Not enough to send away for this self-produced rarity though, and all of these years later it wasn't like the lack of hearing this was chewing away at me like a fox on his leg trying to get out of a hunter's trap. But thanks to P. D. Fadensonnen I finally get to experience this late-seventies weirditie and hey, while I'm not oh-golly-gee knocked out by it I do find the effort rather entertaining. Humorous even.

This is the sorta stuff that had neophytes mimbling "ZAPPA!" for years on end but I hear more of an Italian futurist influence with a tad bit of LAFMS and indecipherable obscure European art rock thrown in. A fine piece of DIY noisegrating even if admitting to liking such art project musings is bound to get me kicked outta the Rough and Tumble Rockism Society faster than you can say "Nick Tosches".
Peter Brotzmann/Sonny Sharrock-WHATTHEFUCKDOYOUWANT CD (Trost Austria, available via Forced Exposure)

This is the second Sharrock/Brotzmann live duo collaboration that's been released to the genital public (click here for my review of the other one), and as you would have expected  me to say after reading XXX years of my dribble this is a mighty good piece of recorded soundscapading that's goin' up 'n about like hardly anything before or since! Like on the pair's earlier FRAGMENTS the sax and guitar fare purty darn well even w/o the added dissonance and blues of Ronald Shannon Jackson and Bill Laswell, and the playing is just as free as you woulda expected what with Sharrock playing some tasty atonal if downright rock-y guitar lines while Brotzmann creates mighty chasms of solid growl with his array of horns. Both players go to show you just how far and out music coulda gotten, especially at a time when I thought everything decent and powerful about the past thirty or so years of innovation was going down the infamous memory hole that gobbled up more'n a few faves.

And hey, spinning this in conjunction with the Brotzmann/Laswell LOW LIFE album might be the most ingenious musical stunt since Imants Krumins and the folk in Simply Saucer partied while METAL MACHINE MUSIC and surf music careened from two separate turntables simultaneously! Have yourself a multi-Cee-Dee player party with both platters'n don't complain to me when you get evicted!
Fossils-WOOLY BULLY CD (Kendra Steiner Editions)

Boy am I disappointed. Here I thought the infamous (in my mind) avant-noise-scrunch group Fossils was gonna do the Sam the Sham chestnut but all this is is more of that electronic free splat music concrete like they did their last time out! Actually I find it quite mesmerizing---hard-scronk grating, the way I like it. True this ain't no garage band classic but that doesn't mean that you're gonna wanna treat it with the same disrespect you do Grace Slick's MANHOLE! Definitely worth the effort to locate, and if you hurry maybe there will be a copy left for you (supplies are limited, as they say on tee-vee).
Massimo Magee, Tim Green, Max Fowler-Roy-RELENTLESS COMMUNION CD (Kendra Steiner Editions}

The other newie from KSE, this time featuring the return of modern-day horn maestro Massimo Magee leading a hotcha bass and drums through a set that highly recalls the late-seventies En Why Loft Scene in its attempt to stretch free play boundaries even more'n my sagged-out gut. Magee recalls Arthur Doyle in his ability to distort the familiar saxophone sound into areas that woulda gotten his knuckles slapped only a few years earlier, while the bass of Max Fowler-Roy plucks away in perfect steadiness while drummer Tim Green does his durndest to get over the impression that he's actually Sunny Murray failing miserable at the task. And you thought they didn't make jass recordings like this anymore now, did you!
Doug Hammond-SPACES CD-r burn (originally on DTW, Japan)

An interesting rarity from a guy who didn't get as much of the needed blab as many of his caliber (and less) managed over the years. Recorded way back in '82 when it seemed as if the second generation of free play was dying down, Hammond leads a particularly copasetic group (including the long-gone and much-missed Byard Lancaster) through some new thing that ain't Roscoe Mitchell-esque're anything but still firmly rooted in the mid-sixties free sense. In some ways this recalls Ornette right after he took his first sabbatical, though you may beg to differ. Too bad this wowzer got lost in the shuffle of many a bowtie 'n tux-friendly platter because like, this one does tend to inspire even lumpen suburban slobs such as myself on many a plane, intellectual or not.
Gabe Williams-YOU'RE THE CREAM IN MY COFFEE CD-r burn (originally on Part Pool Records)

Dunno exactly what was creeping through Bill Shute's mind when he burned this durty comedy record for me...didn't know that the long-time BLOG TO COMM camp follower had a "salty" side to him but obviously he does! Judging from the gags presented on this 'un Williams was more or less a second-string Redd Foxx type spewin' out the X-rated humor that reminds me of a whole lotta the vulgarities being spewed on Sirius Radio even as we speak. Only this guy at least attempts to be funny which I don't think counts that much in the humor biz these days. And y'know what, he actually succeeds some of the time unlike the so-called laugh masters you come in contact with via the radio or tee-vee in this day and age! A good 'un to play for the little ones when you're too embarrassed to discuss those delicate matters with them.
Rudimentary Peni-DEATH CHURCH CD-r burn (originally on Corpus Christi Records, England)

When it comes to these early-eighties British anarcho-punk bands it's always choose wisely, and considering the large number of doo-doo that particular scene had produced you better choose wisely lest you lose a good portion of your hard-begged cash on some warmed-over hippie mewl. One platter you might be wise to choose however is this debut elpee from noted Crassmates Rudimentary Peni, who might deliver on the usual anti rant as the rest of the unwashed did, but at least solidified their rage in a hard wall of sheer gnarl that goes beyond the usual faux-hippie love drivel these groups coulda been known for. Hard and at times Lmo-esque heavy metallic thud ("Psycho Squat" does come way too close to "Flying Saucers 88" for comfort!) that I'm sure was one of the first bridges twixt the h-core and hairboy styles of the early-eighties, and if your local boxboy could like it why shouldn't you???
Various Artists-GODFATHER CATWALK TEARDROP INVITATION CD-r burn (courtesy of Bill Shute)

Well, I did find this one...spryer than the last Shute sampler. Yeah it's got a few outright misfires (I mean, the theme from THE GODFATHER?????) but quite a few goodies do pop up including both sides of the infamous pre-solo Warren Zevon Lyme and Cybelle single on White Whale, Kali Bahlu's "Lonely Teardrops" (which ain't the Jackie Wilson song that's for sure!) while George Loa and Maui Loa do their best to summon the spirit of the great god Ooh-Ooh-Ninny-Poo. The Great New Guitar Sounds ain't that new since all they're doing is rehashing Link Wray's classic "Rumble", and it sure is good to finally get to hear Dyke and the Blazers even though I am totally startled to find out that Dyke is a guy! It all closes out with a comedy album by the very same Alen Robin of LBJ RANCH fame who does this psychiatrist schtick using the pre-recorded voices of various political figures to mildly amusing effect. It ain't anything that's gonna make you chuckle or gasp but hey, when was the last time you laughed at a George Carlin platter?

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