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But I keep telling you this year in and year out, and given how nobody
complains about my redundancy I guess that proves I really don't have the
number of readers that I need to keep this blog afloat. Oh well, what else is
old? (even that phrase is old...well, what else would you expect from a
stick in the mud like me anyway?).
***
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I'm sure you ancient types remember the old commercials on TV...butter---PARKAY! Yeah, these illustrations don't quite live up to the visage of the once Wild One nor are they of the early-seventies vintage post fifties tough guy and eighties bloat, but with AI as it stands today I dunno if any sorta intelligence artificial or otherwise could get the guy's jowls down 100% pat. I will mention that I do like the way that one apple in pic #1 looks like its sporting a pair of buttocks which I do get a kick outta!
Still, a pretty nice batch of pix that show what just mighta been had Madison Avenue was more on the ball. Well, they almost succeeded getting Monica Lewinsky to be a spokeswoman for Jenny Craig and if anyone shoulda known about high protein diets it would be she!
***I guess the first real deal order of business is for me to relay to you the news (in case you haven't heard by now despite the lightning-fast way the internet tell you when the King of England farted) that none other than John, also known as JD King has passed on. In case you wondered, he's the guy with the glasses you see intermingled around the above title who was not only what I would call a somewhat in demand artist but a member of the obscure yet important (given how not only King but future Sonic Youth member Thurston Moore were in it) group the Coachmen. Details are sketchy at this time as to the whos whats whens wheres and why of such a thing (best bet's on a bad case of the flu), but whatever your opinions are regarding the man he was a feisty sparring partner and sheesh, at times even a pal (yeah, right!).
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| Photo by Godlis |
You may have read the interview I did with the guy in the last issue of my not-so-sainted crudzine (see link below), an interview which seemed to rankle more than just a few readers out there who just can't take hearing views and opines that might veer even a fraction of a degree from their own. But as I've learned the hard way, intermingling with the scions of the underground rock brigades can be pretty daring if you happen to get one of them ever so slightly rankled (and I'll show you the teeth marks on my buttocks in case you think I'm, joshing!). A latterday variation of the Coachmen also contributed a few numbers to the disque that came with that very same edition and boy were they good 'uns even though they all got re-released on an "official" Coachmen platter thus rendering my own disque somewhat obsolete. King was a man who might have rubbed more'n just a few people the wrong way what with his general snide attitude that I attribute to his Teutonic ancestry (his original last name was "Kung" but his ancestors changed it during World War I because well, you know the reason), but whaddaya expect from someone who lived in NYC anyway?
I do know that he eventually wised up and left that burgh taking his nasty
attitude with him, but whether or not the man would or would not have
vamoosed New Sodom City he sure is gonna miss out on the big kaboom that
will eventually happen not only there but (give it time) all over the
globe. He told me that he thought that this world of ours was going to
last until 2036 at the least given the deep dive into the cesspool that
has been slowly but steadily happening ever since the days of
enlightenment but I begged to differ. I told King that it's gonna go on
and on for another couple of millennia diving into depths that even we
cannot fathom, only to topple into a huge physical/spiritual abyss once
the Aquarian Age gives way to an era that I sure would not want to imagine
even in my worst nightmares. But that was just my own opinion and you all
know how much stock you put it that.
Well, I
am kinda/sorta
glad that King won't be around to see the inevitable, that is if his 2036
prediction does happen to come true.
Anyway, it is bad to see yet another fellow traveler do the ol' 86, but
there is one thing that really does bother me regarding his passing, and
that is
THE SHIT NEVER DID THAT CARACTURE OF ME TO PUT ON THE MASTHEAD OF THIS
BLOG and boy and I hot and bothered about it!
***
Dig into these, and praise be to Paul McGarry for the donations. Also
thanks to me for finding the Bob Forward burn that I found cleaning my
room.
Crime-MURDER BY GUITAR LP (Superior Viaduct); SAN FRANCISCO'S
STILL DOOMED CD (Swami
Records)
One thing that I like about punk pre-punque rock was that,
although most people believed it was more/less a late-seventies phenomenon
totally sprung from the foam of the sea, strong ties to the punk rock
generations of the past were oh-so obviously retained. Not
that a few subsequent punks didn't keep the spirit of their forbearers
alive as my vast (hah!) collection of outta nowhere singles would prove,
but to be as honest as I can be about it the punks of the late seventies
were way more aurally/spiritually closer to the mid-sixties local rock
group taproot of it all than a few unaware (and usually grossly anti-punk)
people might have led you to believe. And when it comes to the punks who
were barging outta the garages of the late-seventies, Crime certainly were
one out of many that took a whole heapin' hunkin' load of that mid-sixties
grit and infused it into their own hard-edged late-seventies vision.
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And they're varied as well! On one particular track Crime sounds a whole
lot like something the early-seventies edition of the Flamin' Groovies
could have whipped up which would figure since Crime's original drummer
started out with that bunch, while the title track's definitely pre-douse
heavy metal done up right to the point where you just
KNOW that all
of those heavy metal aficionados of the eighties and beyond woulda hated
it. It's a fantastic, cohesive even album that's so good that you'd get
the feeling that today's uptight snobbish punquers would obviously thumb
their noses at it which really ain't saying anything given the overall
hippified nature of punk these past fortysome years!
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For those of you who want more despite already being bludgeoned to death will also want SAN FRANCISCO'S STILL DOOMED. There undoubtedly are a few repeats from the above (can't tell for sure considering how I don't have both of these side-by-side and can't get hold of the LP anyway since I'm pecking this out at work) but who cares because there's plenty more to cherish here. Besides, I know alla you readers are big spenders who'd be more'n glad to dump even more money on an item that just might overlap, spendthrift types you are and will most certainly remain.
Again this one's a heavy sorta collection that goes on from Velvet/Stooges
(to be seventies hip rockscribe about it) roar to even some more early HM
sludge that always sounded better in the hands of men like these 'stead of
them self-important AOR types who've plagued us for more'n just a few
decades. 's even got alternate takes of the all-time Crime hits "Hot Wire
My Heart" and "Baby You're So Repulsive" for all of you readers who have
to get more, more and
MORE of this
group's infinite genius which does have that somewhat refreshing West
Coast punk of the late-seventies variety sound and approach that
mighta been hard for many of us East Coasters to take at first (built-in
prejudice) but we eventually began to understand before it became too
late.
A good 'un for sure, especially if you need some resensification after
long periods of everyday banality being passed off as everyday banality
but the peons can't care no mo'. Another testament to the fact that the
seventies were the true decade of rock as grunge reflecting a period in
time that really was better in all of its corruption and grit.
***
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A buncha old fogey types including slide guitarist Scott Colby and Henry
Kaiser (a guy who got more than his fair share of hipster press coverage
in the eighties) doing originals as well as Zappa, Beefheart, Iggy and
Canned Heat covers. This release was a real bargain since is was released
only as a freebee Cee-Dee a good two or so years back, and if you like
listening to old turdburgers doing their version of past accomplishments
and doing them fairly well you might like this. I'd recommend it to
various Zappa fans who were way bigger on the post-Flo and Eddie period of
his career than I ever was.
***
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Got these 'un's totally unsolicited in the mail (wonder who coulda sent
'em,
hmmmmmmmmm?) and gotta say that both of 'em are what I'd call
essential BLOG TO COMM musical fodder for a long and happy
(well, happy enough) existence.
The Taylor one's what I'd call an expected blast, especially in the way I
get those warm 'n toasties listening to the classic sound develop from its
neo-bop beginnings on JAZZ ADVANCE to the beautiful wall of
intensity that is LIVE AT THE CAFE MONTMARTRE (I can still
remember the glow I got walking with my copy of NEFERTITI THE BEAUTIFUL ONE HAS COME way back during my late teenbo days knowing I was in for a real
hammer and stirrup pounding to end 'em all). After giving these early
spinners a go don't
YOU want to
clobber not only Wynton Marsalis but whatever jerk it was who decided to
run the guy's anti-Taylor commentary on the iffy Ken Burns
documentary!
The early Lacy sides are not as enthralling as the Taylor ones sticking
close to earlier jazz forms that never really tingled my nerve endings.
Fortunately the guy (undoubtedly under the influence of Taylor using the
guy's sidemen in the process) heads straight into the New Thing and does a
mightily fine job at it. It is a grand selection ending strangely enough
with Lacy's ESP album which I don't think I've lent ear to in almost 40
years (if at all---fuzzy wuzzy hazy about these things). If you're game
for these Lacy sides the next best thing to do is latch onto his BYG
effort MOON which pretty much comes off like the end-all as
far as Lacy at one of his many heights goes.
Two goodies that filled in a few collection cracks for me, but I assume
you all have had the originals for ages now, hunh? Wotta buncha rich-kid
trust funders you readers are...feh!
***
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After a whole load of the hippydippy offal that was tossed at gullible
kids during the late-sixties Kim Fowley sure comes off more'n just the
bee's knees. Maybe the whole bee body in fact. It sure is great hearing
this particular classic again because not only is it an antidote to all of
the "relevant" and "right on" goop that was passing for teenbo culture
during them sad 'n sorry days but sure makes surviving in the twenties a
whole lot easier. Fowley sings, screams, does mock Chinese and creates
some downright classics in the process. The title track and "Bubble Gum"
certainly hold up alongside other Woodstock-era rejects (the kind we
like!) from the Velvets up through the Detroit bands on and on and like,
after listening to this who needs Jim Morrison's phony intellectual I'm a
poet pose anyway?
Sheesh, there's even
more here! In
fact a lot more like those rare single sides I was cryin' and blubberin'
about not havin' a short while back. Actually these tracks were taken
straight off of the first side of the Fowley bootleg
STRANGER FROM THE SKY which is fine by me considering just how
much a copy of that'll set me back these days. it's sure good getting more
of these classic sides into my nervous system, especially that custom made
for the late-sixties version of "Don't Be Cruel" where Fowley affects a
high-larious (and kinda irritating) fey voice.
Brad Kohler sent this to me as part of my Christmas present and although I
should be offended that he gave me some castoff 'stead of an item brand
new and straight from the heart (especially considering just how important
a person that I am) gift I'm still grateful and happy and all that stuff
like my mother told me I shoulda been age 9. That's the year when I got
some dinky li'l Charlie Brown bath soap bottle (which looked like the
blockhead himself) from my grandmother for the holiday season and felt
mighty pissed about it! Boy did I get called an ingrate---why couldn't I
have had rich and doting grandfolk like all you lucky kids out there
anyway?
***
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You never woulda gotten me to admit this in the mid-eighties (around the
time David Byrne and the rest were being hailed as the new chic
alternative to all of those things that were supposed to be alternatives
to all of those other things that were alternatives as well), but I do
find the trio version of Talking Heads to have been as fun and overall
enthralling as all those snoods were sayin' at the time in an attempt to
look all hip and with it. After all, who other'n Mirrors regularly
included Troggs songs in their repertoire? Shades of future NYC art
chi-chi can be detected here/there like in Byrne's vocals on the better
than the official version of "For Artists Only", but things like that can
be easily forgotten once you oldster types remember what
else there was in the way of teenbo entertainment at the
time.
***
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I avoided those mid/late-seventies Neil Young albums for a purpose (mainly
because alla the SoCal "hip" vibes that were being promulgated by the rock
press just didn't jibe with my suburban slob ideals --- there were other
$$$ reasons as well), and from what I've read via various fanzine reviews
I did well saving my pennies. And although I gave Mr. Young's
LE NOISE a nice rah rah awhile back I'm going on records
saying that FORK IN THE ROAD doesn't quite snuggle up to that
particular effort. At least to these clogged up ears it sounds like
more of that ol' cocaine 'n turquoise music --- y'know, the kind that
epitomized a good hunk of what many hated about that downhome denim Marin
County front porch FM radio milieu that seemed so ridiculous to just about
everyone but the people who indulged in it. The title track gets back into
rock 'n roll riff gear but by this time I'm sure alla you readers would
have flicked this 'un off the turntable. If you had minds, that is.
***
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I'll admit (really!) that other'n IN THE CITY I know pretty
much nada about the Jam. Of course it ain't like I'd wanna given they
spawned such typically eighties dross as the pseudo-mod revival and the
Style Council, but still that don't mean like their entire existence was
one big kultural nada.
It's a collection of rarities and such that seem to cover a whole load of
their career, all in varying degrees of interest and energy. A nice
gathering of sounds for those of you who are sorta uninitiated but still,
when it comes to the late-seventies and what England hadda offer I could
think of a number of other acts that I would prefer lending lobes to.
***
Believe it or not but ultra-sensitive cry over a broken flower me used to
get really upset when BLACK TO COMM was ignored either by other members of the "rock underground" and
not reviewed in their magazines (or, when they did, misrepresenting it
(and on purpose at that!), with most all of the more holier
than thou underground record labels refusing to advertise while other mags
were raking in the needed bucks via adspace. Worse yet, I loathed it when
the mag was denied the much-needed distribution that kept it out of the
paws of way too many people who wanted copies (and if they did distribute
most often not paying!). Maybe if you buy some of these mags the pain will
dissipate somewhat. But I doubt it.
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