BLOG TO COMM, the crudblog whose due date was definitely fifteen years ago if not longer! Personally I think my own mental/physical due date expired sometime in '82 but I just keep going on grinding out this puerile and poorly-written screed that's miserably "passing" as erudite rock journalism if only due to nervous action. Other'n that well, I do hope that you'll eke something out of this 'un because for the life of me I sure can't!
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Surprisingly enough I'm pretty much at a loss for words as to what to write about (non music-wise --- like current events and my own inner musings, stuff like that) this go 'round. Sheesh, you can spew your brains out about things that are COMMON KNOWLEDGE only so much --- like how most of the people on the face of this earth (at least the ones I've been in contact with) just ain't worth the shit you pay to shovel them, or how funny it is reading alla these better-than-thou types in the legit press make that trans-something that shot up a school a week back come off as the "misunderstood victim" deserving all of our compassion 'stead of the kids that ended up gettin' the bloody dispatch --- things like that. (Kinda reminds me of this Steve Ditko "Killjoy" story where a newspaper headline regarding a mass murder shows the victims' pix with the caption "...but are they really innocent?" or something to that strange effect.) And as far as the Donald Trump indictment goes well --- pass the popcorn because this is gonna be good, and probably in a way the snobbish mirror gazing socialist New York indictors weren't expecting! In fact, future proceedings just might be what Trump needs to kickstart his next major step to really tick off a whole load of people who most certainly deserve it. Or at least I hope it does!
Sheesh, the real deal world just ain't worth caring about no' mo', and if I were you I'd move to some small burgh and just hole up in a nice old ranch house watching the decay as if it were some passing parade! Good thing I'm not a studier of mathematical cycles like Potifar Breen in Robert Heinlein's THE YEAR OF THE JACKPOT was or I just might say we're all headin' for what some might call a MAJOR CATASTROPHE that undoubtedly will lead to a swift and painful end of this world. (Actually, I believe this "Aquarian Age" we're now experiencin' is gonna last the expected 2000 years it's s'posed to with things getting a whole lot worse into human degradation than we can even comprehend in the here and now, at least until we reach its conclusion and all we're gonna hear is ONE MIGHTY BIG BELLOWING CRY OF PAIN AND ANGUISH. Mark my words.)
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Now for something I'd call a little bit more pleasant, a video that actually got cyster visibly shaken, upset and other not so stomach-calming things. No foolin'! I wonder if this show exists in its entirety an' as you shoulda guessed long ago I sure hope it does...
***Here's a comment I got off Counter-Currents regarding the future Amiri Baraka once known as Leroi Jones and his friend...NICK TOSCHES?????:
I read that Leroi Jones actually had a white friend in the 1960s and 70s. Hilariously, that friend was the misanthropic noir/tough guy/hipster writer Nick Tosches, who has written some pretty negative things about blacks, although unlike Jones he was funny when he put them on paper. The best is from one of his later autobiographical novels, which I didn’t read, but I read a review by someone lamenting Tosches’ bigotry when Tosches wrote about having sex with his much younger white girlfriend in her apartment. The bed breaks and the Tosches character gets upset: “Who put that bed together so shittily?! It must have been ni99er-rigged!”
I used "99" in place of "gg" if only to ward off the righteous internet-cruising nitpickers who'd just LOVE to see my pitted ass nailed to the wall! But as outre as it may seem this passage is comparatively tame for Tosches who once, in the course of writing up the Ornette Coleman GOLDEN CIRCLE platter in a now-ancient issue of FUSION, made a particularly base comment about the cranial capacity of the "darkies" involved that would put the above paragraph to utter shame. Wonder how Jones and Tosches remained pals so long, unless it was one of those weird polar opposite admirations the likes of George Lincoln Rockwell and Malcolm X had for each other. Well anyway, put that one in your pipe 'n smoke it all you leftover more sacrosanct than God even Tosches defenders who think I'M the ultimate scum (not that I ain't, but I'm certainly a scum of a different color!).
***And while we're on the topic of Golden Age rockscribing I gotta once again say that Wade T. Oberlin's Richard Meltzer Fanclub has been a rather exhilarating experience for me, dredging up a whole lotta those memories of just how much fun and joy I used to get reading rock mags soaking up the opinions of folk like Meltzer and his late-sixties unto early-eighties compadres whilst on the lookout for a new SCREECH! The trip back to the days of rock screed proper that this site exudes was one thing that inspired me to kick off this post so, if anything, blame it on him (either Oberlin or Meltzer --- take your pick) for this exhilarating bit of cranial stimulation!
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Hey, this must be the first post in ages that doesn't boast a Paul McGarry burn! Maybe next time, but anyway thanks be to the likes of Bob Forward, P.D. Fadensonnen, Jakob Boysen and a few treks into my own archives for the platters heard this go' round. It's a pretty freedom-oriented post if I do say so myself, which wouldn't surprise me since I've been spinnin' loads of this new thing jazz even at the expense of rock 'n roll these days. Well, in many ways IT ALL IS THE SAME BRAND O' SONIC DISEMBOWLMENT as anyone who's read those old Lester Bangs articles on free jazz unto punk rock will tell ya!
As usual per this blog some of these spinners have been around for ages already and might have even been reviewed by myself elsewhere (most likely in the pages of my very own crudzine), but who said that this blog hadda be up to date and "with it" according to the rock snoots who still permeate this digital forum known as internet? Next time, news on the construction of the pyramids:
Well, whaddaya know! Bob Forward has sent me an actual flesh and blood Cee-Dee undoubtedly because he read the last few months of posts, felt that I was going off the deep end and thought this offering would somehow stave off any self-harm I might inflict on myself! No such luck Bob, but thanks for the package anyway.
And for being one of those amerindiealta sorta things that I tend to loathe this '08 release sure sounds good, what with Kim Gordon and onetime Pussy Galore member Julia Cafritz (with the help of drummer Yoshimi from the Boredoms) creating a spaced-out and sparse rock 'n roll that evokes all my faves of the past without coming off too "notice all of Chris' faves of the past being evoked" ifyaknowaddamean...
Some interesting comparisons (and not exactly drawn from straight outta the air) can be felt, like the fact that "Surfs Up" bears an uncanny resemblance to Amon Duul I's "Snow Your Thirst and Sun Your Open Mouth" what with the keen use of wah-wah and otherwise Velvet-riffed sparseness. The influence of prime-era Patti as well as the magic of the underrated Ut should be more than obvious which would figure given the female-ness of it all. I could go on and on about the various re-treatments of various highpoints in past soundsqualling but for the sake of space and your own limited attention span I won't.
Hmmm, pretty hotcha for a buncha females who are probably stuck in the whole New York uppercrust snooty nose-in-the-air supremacism of it all.
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When I wrote about my "fantasy" regarding starting my own podcast where I'd play things like Ornette Coleman bootlegs I wonder if Bob Forward had sending this double set to me in mind! I'm not sure that this release really is a boot, but JAPAN '86 very well might be given that I sure as heck never heard of Equinox Records before and besides this is done with so much loving care unseen by the majors that it's just gotta be one! Ornette with Prime Time recorded straight off of NPR (!) sounding so good and so proto-punk funk to the point where you don't care that the man got a whole load of uppercrust snoot praise once the years rolled on to the point where he even ended up recording with Jerry Garcia.
And through it all there's one interesting bit that really has hit me like a ton of bricks and that is, have you ever noticed that one riff that recurs on "Broadway Blues" sounds incredibly as if it was taken off of the theme to HAWAII FIVE-O which was composed a good decade later???? That's almost as strange as the allusion Eddie Flowers brought up in which the main theme to "Dancing In Your Head" (also utilized in SKIES OF AMERICA) was actually lifted in part from "It's Summertime" by the Jamies!
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Iffy audience tape but SO WHAT because the general power 'n might of the Velvet Underground roars through loud 'n clear as you would have expected being in on the "game" so long. If you're the kinda man who bought all of those bootleg and semi-legit '69 vintage Velvets albums that have been cluttering up your boudoir these past ten or so years then you'll definitely want to add this 'un to your already over-Velvetized collection. Probably available via download, and for free too!
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I yanked this one outta the archives if only to bug Alvin Bishop! All kidding aside this is a great set of early Braxton workouts recorded right after the guy's BYG days and a good three years before he got a contract with Arista Records proper thus becoming one of the new darlings of the jazz set...at least until the eighties clocked in and nobody seemed to be paying attention to the "new thing" anymore.
Playing a music that can go any which way (talking from jazz to "classical"), at one moment Braxton can be heard in a quartet setting doing the free splat and at another in duo with Chick Corea getting rather longhair at that. Or in solo mode tooting away on his ol' standby contrabass clarinet, an instrument that, if it ever was popularized, would have had to have been popularized by him. Don't miss the London Tuba Ensemble working their way through "3-24 (Tuba Realization) [Composition 4]" which proves you can go a long way with nothing but them oversized tooters!
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A pre-Art Ensemble of Chicago Art Ensemble of Chicago album featuring, at least on side two, the original quartet (see video above) that would make all of those great albums over in France that none of 'em got paid for. The early AACM style is firmly in place on these August '67 sessions with the AEC-ers playing hard and free in between working all of those "small instruments" (and large one too!) that would be put to grand use creating a sound that was bound to drive a whole lotta boobs outta the room. But we knew better now, didn't we?
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Not familiar with this James guy at all. Well, I might have come across his drumming on some other free jazz effort but as a leader well... A li'l researching tells me that James has played on a few sessions including as a member of vibist Khan Jamal's Creative Art Ensemble (DRUM DANCE TO THE MOTHERLAND on Eremite Records looks like a good one to pick up --- any suggestions pro/con from you bozos out there?) and as a leader he proves to be every bit a mover and shaker behind the traps as Sunny Murray, or is this only because the great Byard Lancaster plays here as well? So does Jamal for that matter. A bit of BAG funk here, some African groove there, and although this ain't anything that'll break into those wild realms of kranial karmik whooziz I find it a rather --- driving session myself.
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Hey, I got a letter from longtime BLOG TO COMM reader Jakob Boysen along with a buncha Cee-Dee-Ares for me to give a spin! Jakob's doin' alright and he even met up with Irmin Schmidt who even autographed a record for him! He also tells me that there is actually going to be a book on none other than Harald Inhulsen of HONEY THIS AIN'T NO ROMANCE/Europe's Only Iggy Pop Fan Club fame in which Jakob contributed some old articles! I just found out that Herr Inhulsen has been dead for over five years which is shocking, since I didn't even know he was sick! No word on what Mechthild (Iggy's #1 fan) is up to these days.
The disque selection is pretty good. Already have the Bunalim one but the rest seem pretty good including one with the 39 Clocks live and another from the late-sixties English psychedelic group the End. But the one I sprang to first was this Manfred Schoof spinner. Now, I find some of these European free jazz efforts rather chance-y with a load of 'em a little too sterile and cultured for my tastes, but this '66 sesh pumps on all gears sounding as typical mid-sixties all-out as anything that was happening with them AACM cats mentioned above. And for white Europeans who probably never set foot in the black part of Anytown USA they sure dont' sound it...Alex von Schlippenbach's piano splaying equals that of Cecil or maybe even Muhal and none other than future Can drummer Jacki (here "Jacky") Liebezeit is also on board working in those rhythms and splats that would be put to grand use in short time. Schoof's tenor is pretty contempo with some of the harder blowers of the day, and if I told you that he reminded me a tad bit of Roscoe Mitchell you'd probably think I'm nuts but what else is old?
If you want me to say anything more technical and deeply felt about this all I gotta say is what were you expectin', Gary Giddins?
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I have been attempting to avoid Australian produce for obvious reasons, but a dig into the collection had me pulling out this forgotten fave after a good 35 or so years of neglect. The Fungus Brains, unlike a good portion of their brethren who have soaked up the fruits of 60s/70 explorations and laid them to trash, actually take all of those important highpoints of past endeavors and add their own peculiar brand of insanity to it, without looking like many of those eighties pretentious twats we all had to suffer through that is. Off the top of my head comparisons point to MIRROR MAN and (wouldja believe?) FUNHOUSE with a few horn wails straight offa STARSAILOR, all done up with their typical antipodean stupidity thrown in of course! Burn a copy offa Youtube!
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This is the compilation that Polydor put out back '76 way as part of their "Safety Film" series of budget toss outs. Of course by the time these hit the US of Whoa the price had been obviously jacked way up, but then again I remember seeing a whole load of these at the local Musicland going for a mere two or so bucks each so I guess that they eventually became budget albums over here as well. Unfortunately I already got my copy at a higher price a few months earlier, but it was nice to see that they were being made available to the penny-pinching record buying public, altruistic jerk that I am.
Mostly taken from WE'RE ONLY IN IT FOR THE MONEY with a scant smattering of tracks from the other Verve efforts, this sampler is handy if you want to know what the censored version of MONEY sounded like (including the axing of the line about mother with her apron and pad feeding all the boys at Ed's Café --- I guess the suits thought that "pad" meant feminine napkin!). Plus the rare "Why Don't You Do Me Right"/"Big Leg Emma" single opens and closes the thing which might make it worth your while, especially since Mark Perry used to cover the former in his old Alternative TV group!
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Nobody wuvs me! Because if they did they'd be buying these back issues of BLACK TO COMM faster than you can say "I Want My Maypo!" and with hearty smiles on their faces at that! Why don't YOU spread a little of that sunshine my way and pick up one (or hopefully more) of these should be legendary but wha' th' hey rags which will prove your undying affection not only towards the pride and effort that went into these crudzines, but towards me while yer at it! Gawrsh!
4 comments:
Art Ensemble could not play their instruments. I guess being adept at something is "white supremacy."
Wynton Marsalis came along and settled their hash.
FACT!
Whenever some choadstool goes on about musicians who "can't play," my desire to reenact the Hagler-Antuofermo fights (I'll be Hagler) emerges.
Frank Zappa was a racist!!!
You're okay with that?!
Uh...............yeah.
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