Although May has hit us the same way a fart slaps the back of yer 'nads with a rather potent sting,  at this point in time I feel as if I'm stuck in the dawggy days of stifling, humid summer. I could blame it on the mild winter we've had which makes it seem as if we've just skipped from autumn to spring with one mere step, but right now I gotta admit that I'm slipping into those midsummers doldrums that usually come with the extreme heat and my naturally built-in laziness (coupled with a strong loathing of life and hefty ennui at that) fully in gear. 'n yeah, I know that I'm alleged to be "too smart" to let such things as the pressures and travails of "real life" get to me, but sheesh, well sometimes mere existence just does that no matter how hard one doth protest and yell and yammer I will, but frankly I find that there's no way that I can stop killer time from doing his dirty work! Each morning when I look into the mirror I sure can see the evilness of his handicraft etched into my puffy eyes and spotted nose just brimmin' with blackheads, not to mention those li'l "blebs" of skin around my eyes which my doctor says he can burn off at a good $150 or so a pop!

Well, at least amidst the personal decay I've come up with some more of my juicy reviews that you can easily enough glom below, some of the material courtesy of Bill Shute whilst others were donated by none other'n Weasel Walter! All I gotta say is both of these guys really know how to hurt a person's eardrums with the massive wall of cacophony that they've been inundating me as of late, but thanks anyway guys!

Lizzy Mercier Descloux-ZULU ROCK CD (Ze)

Yeah, you know the only reason I bought this 'un, right? It's because of the description regarding how both Descloux and ROCK NEWS/Ze Records head Michel Esteban heard this late-sixties South African pop record produced by a transplanted Englishman by the name of Julius Levine which had a strong Velvet Underground vibe and they wanted to recreate the sound for their own profit and pleasure! Can't complain with a goal such as that, and although the real questions I had remain to be answered (like, who was Julius Levine and what record were Esteban and Descloux listening to?) at least I have this platter to contend with, and contend with it I must!


After the dark New York no wave-ish records Descloux had previously recorded this 'un sounds mighty lighthearted. And it sounds undoubtedly like something I would have chucked into the trash had I heard it at the time. Really, in 1983 the LAST thing I needed was squeaky-clean fluff or new wave pop or any of those sounds that were turning the eighties into the years of cringe, but fortunately I am now at least a little more mature to realize that this music ain't fluff by any stretch of the groin. Yeah, it can come off just as queasy as any white man invading the aboriginal music scene you'd care to think of, but it does have a certain special lilt about it. And frankly, if I can't locate the records that were the inspiration for this I just better listen to this all the more and pretend...


Not quite the sub-Saharan Velvet Underground I was expecting (neither were Group Inerane, who at least come closer to the taproot), ZULU ROCK's got a light bounce, snappy folk rocky melodies and a "feeling" that might remind a whole lotta people of Paul Simon's GRACELAND which this platter obviously gets compared to a whole load of times. Thankfully when ZULU ROCK ain't sounding like the music for some beer commercial it does have an interesting, trance like feel (which I guess is where the Velvets refs figure in) that I can find a whole lotta affinity for. But right now all I can do is flash back to those years when after being bombarded with sounds made by a rock contingent that knew how to rope the best aspects of VU/Detroit aesthetics and translate them into late-seventies cataclysm, the remnants began wafting into ethnic variations and other tangents that seemed to have very little in common with the original thrust and you can bet that I was a sad boy!

I get the feeling that this will be one of those platters, like the Velveteen one, which I'll come to really enjoy before shoving it back in the rack until the next Velvets ref. tingles my cranium. It is a nice effort that I will be spinning for quite some time, if only to unlock whatever it was in here that was supposed to be so life-reaffirming and all, (And hey, if anyone can point me towards any of those Julius Levine-produced tracks that were the inspiration for this, please let me in on the big secret! They sound like they'd be the real deal high energy platters to listen to w/o the interference of some European femme interloper!).

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Edison With The Weather-OFF THE CUFF CD (Sus 4 Records, available via CD baby)


Another pick up in my quest to discover some of those under-the covers New York underground groups that spent some time (one gig if any) playing the New York underground of CBGB and Max's Kansas City from the early-seventies until 2006. Even (especially?) if they weren't exactly new wave, hardcore punk or something that would have immediately been written up in a variety of magazines devoted to such music at the time. As to where Edison With The Weather fits into all this well, they were more in line with some of those groups whose names you used to see presented in teeny tiny letters on the CBGB ads in the back pages of THE VILLAGE VOICE, usually on one of those Tuesday nights when they'd cram four or five groups onto a bill and you'd never hear from 'em again much to the dismay of the band members at hand. Given that these guys ('n backup gal singers) were performing a jazz rock that reminds me of mid/late-seventies Steely Dan with maybe a touch of Hall and Oates arrangements and Cars emote tossed in, it ain't hard to see why they'd fail in the middle of all of that decadence goin' on. Then again, Edison et. al. had some interesting punch and swerve in their music that didn't have me rip the disque off of the laser launch pad the way I would with various items too reminiscent of the worst moments of AM top forty decline and fall. And although it was quite obvious that they never were gonna make as big a splash in the wild world of rock as many lesser lights at least they managed to get this halfway decent spin out which is nothing to burn the house down about, but nothing to loathe either.

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The Beatles-HISTORICAL STAR CLUB TAPES two CD-R set burn (originally released on Mister Claudel Records)


For a guy who missed out on latching onto that Beatles Star Club album that came out 'round '76  (mostly out of boredom if anything) this release of questionable legality (I think it was on the market for a few nanoseconds before the legal eagles took notice) does come in mighty handy. Can't compare it to either that legit double-LP set nor the various Star Club bootlegs that have come out in the interim (since I ain't got any of those!)  but for you readers who've irritated your family and friends with those Silver Beatles demos (and yes, I was told to "take that boring junk off" by supposedly open-minded popsters back inna early eighties!) you pretty know what to expect. Mainly the four getting outta their leather duds 'n into the EMI groove that would take 'em into heights heretofore unseen by many an act pop or not. Fun rockster ambiance (not quite Max's but livelier 'n the Fillmore)  and a great selection of oldies and numbers soon to be familiar to us all can be heard, and in better quality than one might expect. An entertaining as well as "historical" presentation despite the numerous incomplete recordings, and as a bonus we get some numbers by King Size Taylor and Cliff Bennett taken from a Star Club New Year's Even bill they shared with the Beatles that must've been one of those shows that the patrons'd never forget in a million kazillion years! Or one of those shows that I'm sure a few thousand locals said they attended when in reality they were at home listening to their Horst Jankowski albums!

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Metal Rouge-LET US PRETEND THAT WE HAVE NO PLACE TO GO CD (Kendra Steiner Editions)


The latest in the KSE catalog which might go to prove that this label just very well may be the Obscure Records of the teens. For a moment I thought that this 'un was gonna be some hotcha heavy metal romp but as usual I was wrong...turns out that former New Zealanders Metal Rouge play this free form clang that reminds me of Michael Nyman and a slew of those seventies composers who were taking various Cageian, Glassian and Rileyian modes and going into even crankier realms with it. Add a lot of the modern-day electronic improv/freeform sounds that certainly ain't alien to the likes of the folks at KSE and you'll get an even better idea. At times noisy, at others rather calming, this one doesn't sound like anything you'd hear outta the beret and stale doritos gang who used to show each other their gravestone rubbings back inna seventies. Considering how such mirror-gazing consciousness was considered "art" when I was entering into high school perhaps you should be all the luckier for it!

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COKE COMMERCIALS VOL. 1


Too young to have enjoyed these Coke commercials done up by some of the biggest hitsters of the day, but havin' 'em on one platter's sure to bring back some sorta memories of something I didn't experience in the first place! The infamous Jan 'n Dean one that popped up on PEBBLES VOL. 4 nor the Who's "Coke after Coke" one ain't here, but you get some hotcha takes by the Troggs, Box Tops, Tremeloes and many more. Most sound as good as the hits and some have the artist doing voice overs (the Sandy Posey one's a hoot!), and not only that but you get two by the Moody Blues, one Denny Laine era and the other Hayward and Lodge making for one interesting group evolution study right before your very ears!

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OL' PAINT CD-R burn (originally on GWP records)

Yet another one of those whoosh wha' 'app'd?  kinda releases that reminds me of the flybynights I used to eyeball at the record shops back when I was twelve...y'know, the albums that had these really strange if at-times eye-catching covers that probably housed a whole lotta duff music custom made for the annoying hippie relative in your life. Judging from the cover of this 'un Ol' Paint sure woulda seemed like one of those kinda groups, only the music that pops up here certainly ain't the early-seventies relevant garbage that inadvertently turned more'n a few innocent bystanding kids into frothing white power maniacs. Actually, this Syracuse group did pretty good with their 1971 pop rock sensibilities that had just a tad bit of then-current introspection but some pretty nice moves that might have earned 'em a one-shot AM hit like the Rock Flowers or Giorgio. OK, it does drag a bit towards the end, but otherwise OL' PAINT was a nice li'l diversion that, with a little beefing up, coulda been a nice lost- LP contender to rank with Hackamore Brick and the Sidewinders. Think what Stories woulda sounded like on that first album if Michael Brown wasn't on the thing and you'r about halfway there.

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Normal Love-SURVIVAL TRICKS CD; Microwaves-;PSONIC IMEDEANCE CD (both available via ugEXPLODE)

Coming in just under the wire are these two newies from the same label that gave you all of those mind-decaying Weasel Walter free jazz albums that are bound to give your brain that relapse its been beggin' for these past umpteen years.

When I saw the "Normal Love" Cee Dee I naturally thought it might have been a soundtrack for the famous Ron Rice Jack Smith underground film which not only featured Diane DiPrima dancing with preggo belly sticking way out but Tiny Tim looking upon the bevy of scantily-dressed dancers who accompanied Di Prima with udder amazement. (Unfortunately when viewing the film via ubuweb I couldn't spot Mr. Khaury at all...go figure!) Turns out that this new group only copped their name, but they sure did a good job of recreating the mind-addled whizzitude of that film with their sound which (to borrow a bit from the hypesheet) reminds me of a little bit Etron Fou Leloublan and a whole lof ugEXPLODE-styled midwest noise-destructo music. Or maybe downtown Manhattan improv musings  that don't come off like they were custom made for a stodgy VILLAGE VOICE feature. The Lydia Lunch-ish bleat of lead singer Rachel Bell (who also handles the sampler, and I don't mean "Home Sweet Home" either!) also points the way towards some no wave ref. pts. but given the myriad asst. of hodgepodge influences it's hard to say what you're really in store for here. A pretty grand slice of modern experimental techno art punk jazz music that doesn't come off one bit pretentious or officially elitist (you know..."our music obviously proves we are better than you will ever be!").

Microwaves on the other hand remind me of the mid/late-eighties post-hardcore melding into heavy metal rock that was confusing more'n a few staunch cheerleaders for "their" music out there in teenboland. And if you don't remember, a good portion of both the genres were making pretty good stands back in them days, at least until the boundaries became too warped and it became a little too cross-references and watered down for my own personal tastes. But Microwaves remind me of the earlier days of the movement(s) when the fierce music and pounding percussives hadn't run themselves into the ground yet. Parts come off like the Japanese bass/drums duo Ruins which is a rather dandy ref. pt. if you ask me, and if you're a fellow who is cherishing at the thought of Imants Krumins' record collection being auctioned off this might keep you satiated until the big day!

MUTTS, A COMIC STRIP BY PATRICK McDONNELL

I gotta admit that this one did look tasty. After all, I'm a fellow who really could use a new and exciting comic strip to brighten up my usually dour-encrusted day, kinda in the same fashion that I'd look forward to a page fulla funny and truly copasetic cartoons after a hard day in third grade. Unfortunately for me, most comic strips created after 1963, like most television programs, automobiles and general gulcheral concerns, really don't have the same energy and creativity that most strips et. al. created BEFORE that date did. Even when I was a kid I noticed that the newer comics that were being introduced at the expense of the long-running standbys weren't as funny, interesting or overall eye-catching even with their simple, quickly slapdashed style that did have a certain appeal. When I was ten, comics like DICK TRACY, LI'L ABNER and ARCHIE were what tickled my fancy along with the deceptive simplicity of NANCY, HENRY and FERD'NAND. These titles certainly mirrored my own growing up existence more'n CAMPUS CLATTER or THE DROP OUTS ever could!

The fine, thin penned OUT OUR WAY's also had a neat look about 'em that really did not seem that far distanced from the type of existence I was leading at the time, one which although firmly implanted in "modern times" still had a strong undercurrent of past experiences from the early-twentieth century to World War II cursing through its veins. Such new entries onto the funny pages such as FUNKY WINKERBEAN and DOONESBURY (both of which I could not tell apart given their penchant for soon to be outdated early-seventies youth relevance) just didn't cut it the way that the old faves from the thirties onward  could, and somehow I feel that one of the real reasons that newspapers are dying out is not because of internet supremacy or the alienation of a good portion of its readers, but because the comic pages are filled with unfunny, quickly drawn, uninteresting efforts that dare not insult or offend anyone no matter how slightly it may be, unless its somebody like myself natch!

But as for MUTTS well...it sure seem to hearken back to some of the old 'n reliable standards I like in comic strips. The two main characters, Earl and Mooch, remind me of Chip and Bobo from those old John Schaum piano lesson books my sister still has stashed somewhere. And one thing we could all use here in the jaded and downright evil teens is more pre-hippoid visuals and attitudes to counteract the ever-enveloping actions of the modern day equivalents of the uplifters and do-gooders of the past who want to make sure we all walk in perfect unison and smiling smack dab into that big mass grave they've dug up for us! Can't argue with the retrogarde actions of anybody who'd wanna send us back to those halcyon and comparatively saner times now, can we?

Gotta admit that the art is actually halfway decent in its attempt in recalling the early fine-line comic strips with a more "modern" approach that's bound to appeal to the youthful fans of the up and coming underground comics that were coming out in the nineties. Trying to balance the old stylings with the contemporary doesn't always work out the way it was intended to, and at times MUTTS unfortunately reminds me of something that wouldn't look out of place in THE NEW YORKER not to mention some new kid book that their cartoonists always seem to illustrate. More often than not it ends up looking more or less like artist Patrick McDonnell* was trying a bit too hard to flash on past accomplishments while mixing in more modern references that don't always translate well to the comic page, hence the downright cringe I got when I glimpsed his CRUISING WITH RUBEN AND THE JETS spoof on one Sunday title panel. And true, McDonnell was trying to utilize the best of the past with the current slapdash in order to blase a path to the future I might suspect, but his overall effect doesn't quite hit my sarcastic comic strip psyche the same way Bobby London did with his DIRTY DUCK and POPEYE efforts. And ya gotta give London credit for having to put up with all of the current comic strip limitations and still coming up with a high-larious product in the process, at least until he got the 86 for introducing the subject of abortion into POPEYE when no one was looking!

I find most of the strips I've read in the four books pictured (one which contains nothin' but Sundays in color with a few repros from the reg'lar series) to be nothing quite out of the ordinary, but like I said you're talking to a guy who would love to latch onto a PRISCILLA'S POP collection done with the same care and quality as a volume of LITTLE ORPHAN ANNIE reprints. I will admit that I thought the strips dedicated to picking up pets at the local animal shelter had the right amt. of proper heart-tug w/o looking like utter pap for the mooshies out there, but when McDonnell gets into the same ol' tired ecological concerns the strip comes off worse'n some seventh-grade sermon which we all HAVE TO bow our heads in solemn sanctimony! And it ain't like I'm exactly willing to re-live those "sky is falling" days which used to scare the bejabbers outta me long before I learned to take my teachers (and others) with more than a grain of salt! (Come to think of it, where is Paul Ehrlich hiding out? I wanna smash his brains on the concrete RIGHT NOW if only for inspiring all of this doom and gloom that had us all cringing in the closet in abject fear!) When McDonnell sticks to putting out a pleasant, cutesy and hopefully witty effort he's doing OK,  though when he strays from the straight 'n narrow WATCH OUT!!!

Still, MUTTS beats out all of the new flash competition from DILBERT to FOR BETTER OR WORSE and the rest of those unfunny and stagnant comics that seem to appeal only to women who like to clip and affix comics to their work cubicles in order to say something they wouldn't have the ovaries to say face-to-face ifyaknowaddamean... Go figure. It ain't like I'd give the thing any awards, though I ain't ashamed to say that I do read it (along with DENNIS THE MENACE and BLONDIE) whenever I do pick a comic section up even this late in the sorry ol' game I call life. And you can go figure that 'un as well!
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*yes, the same one who used to slam the skins in the infamous New York underground group Steel Tips alongside eighties outsider artist Joe Coleman

Well whaddaya know! Not only did I manage to scrape up enough money to buy some fresh listening grub, but lucky me even obtained two new (and unsolicited more/less!) freebee items that were sent with the express purpose that I review them for this blog! In other words, once again I am in JOYBELL HEAVEN because of the kindness of these two individuals who felt me worthy to review their latest wares! Just goes to show you what an "important" kinda guy I am that people would actually send their efforts my way just so's I can mention 'em on this blog which is traveled even more frequently than Vanessa Del Rio's hiney!

Obviously the thought of these freebees in my collection makes me feel like a particularly proud feller, and although I could easily act like the typical bigcity rockcrit snoot and dismiss these without giving them a fair listen as sort of a cruel joke I most definitely will review each note on these platters with an open mind and unclogged ear canals! And you thought I was some kind of inefficient jerkoff doof all along, eh? Well I AIN'T, and the mere fact that two platters filled with freshly-recorded music have made their way to my door only goes to show you that maybe I haven't been "written off" as a hasbeen nobody like way too many people out there in wonkland think I have...right? RIGHT????


All kidding aside (after all, I am one of the lowlier forms of life when it comes to expressing exactly what it is which makes a certain grouping of sound patterns entertaining, life-rearranging or just plain disgusting for that matter!). here's what's passed from the needle (or laser light) to the speakers to my hammer/stirrup and ultimately my braincells (all two of 'em!) this past week. Just five items mind you, but like I said two of 'em are newly-minted and one of 'em ain't that old anyway. If you wish, use these writeups as a basis for whether or not you wanna hear these offerings either via the web or the good ol' fashioned way just like you did back when you were a kid and you'd cruise the Robert Christgau Consumer Guide to find out where your kopecks would be heading within the next few days. Only don't come crying to me in the same fashion you've always wanted to strangle the "dean" because he gave some duffoid item an A+ and you just wasted your entire week's worth of lunch money on some dog because of it!

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Avant Duel-BEYOND HUMAN CD (available via Avant Duel)

I mean...who woulda thought?

This year has produced a brand spanking-new album (true it is a "Cee-Dee," but it's so hard for me to drop good ol' seventies music listening jargon!) by a new group that has captured my spirit, imagination, consciousness and a whole lotta that rockcrit hyperbole I just can't get outta my system after reading some old issue of CIRCUS magazine. The amazing thing about it is that the two behind it have been making this brand of deep-space gothic no wave quasi-metal for quite some time, and if you must know this platter has excited me like nothing since the recent Rocket From The Tombs download  so let's not say that this is one of those flash-right-by-ya spins that get played once and filed in the back of your collection with the rest of your Lou Miami and the Cosmetics discs!

Only goes to show you that rock 'n roll as a futuristic, high energy endeavor is in the hands of the old timers and don't let anybody tell you different! Avant Duel is the new group that VON LMO and Otto von Ruggins have put together with LMO on vocals and guitar and von Ruggins handling the electronic devices, and these two, who have been working together since the sixties in such acts as Funeral of Art and of course the infamous early Kongress, really have their karmic thought patterns aligned since their resultant BEYOND HUMAN platter's one of the meanest, most soul-searing releases to have been heard in quite a long time. If you miss the garage-clang of the old Chrome albums or considered the ELECTRONIC MEDIATION-era Tangerine Dream and Harmonia punk rock groups, you certainly will go for this under-the-radar extravaganza!

More than a few moments do echo the previously namedropped acts with a few obv. refs to not only HALF MACHINE LIP MOVES but MEDITATION and MUSIK VON HARMONIA clearly evident. LMO hasn't lost any of his vocal stylings or guitar prowess o'er the years and is still the classic emoter when it comes to vocal duties (and yeah, his blitzoid no wave guitar is highly evident), while von Ruggins is one of the few people who can take the new generation of electronic gear and make it sound like everything from a discarded Martin Rev track to something I really wish more of those eighties new wavers woulda done 'stead of the giddy dance music they eventually came up with! These guys use electronics the same way William Burroughs used language, and the resultant sounds ain't anything that woulda satiated yer typical Rock Lobstering neophyte that's for sure!

Lotsa standouts on this 'un such as "Electromagnetic Playground,"  a great synth buzz utilizing the classic "Sister Ray" riff while "Hologram Girl" reminds me of Malcolm Mooney-era Can run through Uniblab from THE JETSONS. "Dark Rift" is gothic nightmare with backwards vocals, horror moom organ (which was actually played by LMO on a guitar synth...and let it be known that the man actually did a lotta keyboard work on this 'un!) and pounding Klaus Schultze-styled drums (some played by von Ruggins!) that really drive the aforementioned ELECTRONIC MEDITATION comparisons home. Disque closer "Beyond Human" sounds like Burundi drums and guitar strangulations backing LMO's chanting in an attempt to raise Jimi from the grave! All points in between aren't bad either as you'll probably find out eventually.

Fans of early-seventies krautrock will certainly appreciate this as will those who understand the finer aspects of late-sixties punk rock moves and Max's Kansas City right around the time the downstairs hadda close up due to "neglect." If you miss the dark, dreary yet energetic pulse of New York underground rock before the eighties white-washed it out of existence well, you know the score already.

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Comateens-GHOSTS 12-inch EP (Cachelot)

Speaking of dark, dreary, energetic electronic pulsating New York underground rock, did these guys really fit in the same way such fellow travelers as Kongress or WKGB did? Perhaps, since not only do I associate the Comateens with the electronic, Danceteria geekiness of eighties New York "new wave" music but the edgy nova rock of the final days of Max's Kansas City which produced such eternal rock 'n roll concepts as not only Von Lmo but even the Zantees. So it was with a hearty adventurous spirit that I snatched this "maxi-single" considering how many of these New York acts produced some rather exciting moments even if they would eventually fall into some of the tiredest ruts that seemed to lay to waste all of the promise that these up-from-nowhere New York bands held for us just a few short years earlier. And hey, it turns out that the Comateens did a pretty hotcha job on this 'un sounding new wave yet still rooted in a style that took everything from the Velvet Underground to ? and the Mysterians and electronified it for a new generation of fans. And the fact they could refurbish these ideals with synthesizers and drum machines and pull it off w/o sounding totally worthless is something I sure hope the entire (surviving) group is proud of even a good three decades later..

With a style and swerve that just reeks last days of Max's/seventies-eighties rock cusp, the 'teens do a fairly good electro-dance-y thing on the a-side that surprisingly enough doesn't "offend" me if only because they managed to yank it out w/o the gloss and self-consciousness of their contemporaries. Flipsider "Late Night City" was a fave on the Marty Thau sampler and it sounds boffo here as well. Kinda like 1963 Top Forty filtered through Lou Reed and treated by Eno back when he was good. The theme from THE MUNSTERS actually succeeds which is a surprise considering how the early/mid-sixties tee-vee nostalgia craze of the eighties produced a whole lotta lame new wave damnation-as-praise. But like the Foreign Bodies version this works not only as a reminder of fun times but as a driving instrumental in itself.

One that's worth a find and hey, were those other Comateen records really as bad as I heard they were? Or let me restate that...were they as bad as the Comateens ended up looking with those 1962 Italian greaser haircuts? Whatever, it'd sure be good if some enterprising label'd gather up all of these early tracks and more and present 'em for us in the here and now since this music, which was probably up-nosed and poo-poo'd in its day, sounds a whole lot better'n most of the Madonna gunk that eventually came outta that sordid scene and continues to rot away this late in the game!

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Fadensonnen-WHITE NIGHT CD (Fadensonnen Records, see link up in blog list on left)


Ah, yet another newie to sparkle my senses this week, the latest platter from PD Fadensonnen and his partner in sound RD. On this go 'round the duo make even more of an atonal blur of raucous spew than they have the previous five or so releases, trying to do their best to make the most hard-nailed sounds (viz a viz Chrome filtered through Les Rallizes Denudes' amplifiers) utilizing everything from anvil and snake phase shifter guitars and tape manipulations to stylophones, and rather than coming off like typical ten year olds jerkin' 'round with Big Brothers' stereo equipment this does take off on a rather feral bent. If you are one who is searching for the missing link between WHITE LIGHT/WHITE HEAT (or side two of FUNHOUSE) and METAL MACHINE MUSIC, you may have found it right here!!

Personal faves are "Lunar Stomp" and "Manhattan Tongues" (yours may differ), but "Snake Charmer": does have a certain appeal like one of those Can Ethnic Musical Forgeries. Whatever your likes, this is one that wouldn't look or sound too outta place in your industrial/avant music collection where it and the entire Fadensonnen catalog belong, natch!

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JASPER WRATH CD-R burn


I requested this one from Brad Kohler via his technowhiz friend not only because of the group's frequent mention in various issues of NEW HAVEN ROCK PRESS but due to the fact that Jasper Wrath were around long enough to have appeared at the CBGB Christmas Rock Festival in '75. If you ask me historical straws such as these need to be grasped at, especially if you're as anal about certain acts figuring into certain places and times such as I am! And hey, this '71 album, originally released on MGM's Sunflower imprint, ain't that bad an affair despite the group's rather Crimson/Tull-ish inclinations. Think English prog '69 before it became way too gluggo for your tastes, or better yet what the Moody Blues might have come up with had they decided to lock themselves in a closet and listened to every late-sixties Amerigan garage band album they could find in order to get the sound down pat. No Yes-inspired visions of damsels in distress fighting dragons here, nor are there any lyrics that would have earned us an "F" in high school English class...just some pretty good late-sixties pop with just enough classical influx that won't make you puke!

I understand that the indie single they released shortly before splitsville was supposed to have been
"atrocious" though hey, some of the things pundits have been telling us sounded like turds o'er the years have turned out pretty nice after all so who's to judge other than me. There's a double-CD set featuring the album, the single and some latterday stuff recorded 'round the time of the CBGB gig out there that I wouldn't mind getting my ears on so as they say, "stay tuned."

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Carla Lynne Hall-DIRTY5 CD (moxiemusic@hotmail.com, or try CD Baby)

Goodness knows just how much I miss tuning into those CBGB cybercasts! From the clubs' three stages (including the gallery and lounge next door) there was a whole lotta music to contend with, some good, some atrocious, and maybe even a little of it inspiring. But hey, it was nice experiencing new music being performed on the spot as it was happening, mostly by some young upstart whose repertoire I might have had little affinity for but the desperation these acts would sometimes ooze was rather enjoyable to say the least.

Surprisingly enough I seemed to be tuning into the 'casts from the CB's 313 Gallery and the downstairs Lounge more often than the main stage. This was probably due to the fact that I was not exactly a huge fan of the rock music, underground or not, especially the kind that was emanating from the major club at the time. Too much of it seemed to derivative, not that there's anything wrong with that, but when bands swipe more from the likes of REM or Alice in Chains (two acts I never could wrap my ears around) rather than the Velvet Underground or MX-80 Sound you kind of get the feeling that rock 'n roll went off on a stray path ages ago! However, although I'm not exactly that fond of the myriad assortment of stripped down singer/songwriters and amerindie mewls that the Gallery and Lounge were noted for booking, I was more'n apt to be up and front for the various free jazz shows that would play the smaller stages considering that the post-"new thing"/loft scene is a music that continues to have a lasting throb-thrilled impact on me. And frankly, a good portion of the acts playing the various CBGB outlets were worthwhile even with a firm BLOG TO COMM sense of values firmly installed, and if I can only (re)experience that once-archived cybercast that an outta-the-way li'l trio called Lucky did back '99 way again I'd be happier than Elton John stowed away on a Turkish navy cruiser!.

Thus it's no surprise that I often would have a live show being cybercast directly from the stage of one of the CB's clubs, more often than not the Gallery or Lounge,  playing freely in my room as I would putzy about or do some serious readin'. Frankly I gotta say that I look back upon those moments in time about as fondly as I do when thinking about listening to oldies radio shows or even baroque organ recitals when I was but a mere teen. That's undoubtedly the reason I snatched this disque by Carla Lynne Hall which was recorded at the Lounge up...I mean true, she is a folkie and true her music is rooted in the Southern California singer/songwriter critics rock mode of the seventies, but the free spirited performance which has a little tinge of stage fright nerves comes off rather affable, as does the woman who is performing these numbers with the aid of an acoustic guitar played by either herself or accompanist Christian Cassan.

Maybe it does help if you think these songs are coming more from the emote of Tim Buckley than Joni Mitchell, but there is a nice intimate and perhaps even slightly intense feeling to this set which does lean heavily on the more Laurel Canyon aspects of sensitive solo singers (one tip off being the presence of a Little Feat cover). Think maybe Essra Mohawk 'stead of Linda Ronstandt and you might get a clearer picture. Thankfully, one word that Hall remembered from her school days was "tension" which she jams into these sometimes jazzy, sometimes folkie but never "introspective" to the point of nausea numbers.

So yeah, it's a good snatch up that should do me well as the years go on. And yeah, even a tuffy like you could like it perhaps in the same way that the mostly right on but sometimes skewered Nick Kent liked all that crapola that people like me avoided with a passion. After all, at least he was once a Sex Pistol and the best you could settle for was playing flute-a-phone in that first grade noise bangster you had with the kid next door. Still,  a nice display o' unrecognized talent that doesn't make me think of bell bottoms and body painting the way Melanie and her hoards of admirers did and that's gotta account for something!

What do you do when it's a Sunday afternoon and you're bored outta your gourd just like you were when you were eight and although you read the same PEANUTS paperbacks over and over again like your mother suggested you craved  more? What else but bust into a box of old books wallowing around in the abode and reacquaint yourself with some long-cherished reads you haven't touched in a good ten or more years! Here're a buncha books I pulled out of one of many storage bins that really brought out the old memories, some which I would have preferred to remain buried deep within my psyche for at least another decade or so! Well, at least now I remember some more humiliating childhood experiences that I will regale you with during the course of some future blog post!
 

THE RETURN OF A MAD LOOK AT OLD MOVIES, written by Dick DeBartolo, illustrated by Jack Davis (Signet 1970)
Elemental adolescent fun that fit in well with my Sunday afternoon loungeabout. Not as guffaw-inducing as the first Old Movies volume (which was a huge pre-teen laughathon twixt me and similar-minded ten-year-olds in the area) but still holding its own with typically obvious if still entertaining satires on everything from circus movies to Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland. Not only that, but Jack Davis' art doesn't come off as slapdash as it did in some of his later efforts for the mag that started it all for him!

THE BROTHERS MAD (Ballantine 1969)


This is the version with the bad Peter Max ripoff cover that was meant to draw in the unaware up 'n comers who didn't know that all this was wuz re-peddled fifties-era material in new 'n "hip" dressing. At least Ballantine wised up enough to return to the original covers for the next printing, though eventually even they would hire none other than Norman Mingo to paint all-new (and similar to the Signet books) artwork for these original MAD paperbacks' final go 'round in the late-seventies. Mostly classic Kurtzman era comic book reprints with some magazine era material all repro'ed rather atrocious-like but hey, for years these paperbacks were the only way anybody could get a quick fix of EC comic material so it wasn't like I was complainin'!

THE INDIGESTIBLE MAD (Signet, 1968)


A copy with the original Mingo cover which was loads funnier and way more creative than that seventies "Alfie Seltzer" re-do of his. Nice selection of early-sixties stories as well with a classic Wally Wood comic strip spoof ("If Five Comic Strip Cartoonists Interpreted the Age-Old Riddle 'Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road?'"), a high-larious "Hollywood Surplus Sale" and of course the usual Don Martin and "Spy Vs. Spy" featurettes. Naturally there's the usual dross from the primers to Dave Berg's mirroring of his own vapid upper-middle-class En Why commuter living, but you can always skip over that stuff unless you want another good reason to cheer on the assassinations of John and Bobby Kennedy. (Added note; this battered second-hand copy was, according to the back cover scribble, originally owned by not one but three fine connoseiurs of MAD's inimitable satire going by the noms "Lou, Marty and Charles"! According to further scribbles to be found the trio purchased this ware way back in 1970 and guys, if you want your copy back well all I gotta say is frankly if you were stupid enough to get rid of this way back when maybe you should be taught a lesson to never let go of your childhood treasures lest they end up in the hands of some ne'er do well type like ME!!!!!)


BURNING MAD (Signet, 1967)


Good enough for one Wallace Wood comic spoof making this reprint of '63 material all the more yum yum eat 'em up, though once again you do have to put up with the usual New York snoot aura of Dave Berg and the tired ol' regular features. Strangely enough, I had thought, if even for one short second, that the title of this book was a spoof on the "Burning Man" festivals and that perhaps the title should have read THIS IS BURNING MAD complete with Alfred E.'s face adorning the familiar Burning Man symbol! Well, all I gotta say is that I really do have a vivid imagination, which I only wish I could put to better use on this obviously tiresome blog!

MARVEL MASTERWORKS; FANTASTIC FOUR #'s 1-10 (Marvel, 1997)

Given how I love the loony pre-teen illiteracy of these early Marvel endeavors it's no accident that I cherish these reprints from Marvel's first boss generation (roughly 1961-1965). The classic first ten issues of THE FANTASTIC FOUR all pressed up on nice glossy paper, and man, did these comics zone me back a good forty years to the days when I was searching out unobtainable originals and equally hard-to-get reprints for these stories. The only thing missing is the smell of aging newsprint that excited this hunter of flea market booty but I managed to get over that olfactory pleasure about ten pages in!


LAUREL AND HARDY, text by John McCabe, compiled by Al Kilgore (Bonanza Books, 1983 edition)


Helpful illustrated filmography and critique of each and every Laurel and Hardy film appearance which I gotta admit brought out alla them old-time growing up watching this stuff on tee-vee memories in me! Nicely illustrated and fairly accurate, this book is bound to get the ol' lump forming in your throat not only because it was stuff like this that made up a good portion of your own film credo, but because there are more than a few people out there who, with typical post-postmodern hatred firmly implanted into each and every one of their psyches, want these films and many others to stay firmly in the past and well buried so they won't corrupt the purebred futures these do-gooders have planned for each and every one of us! I get the feeling that these days watching Laurel and Hardy films would be just as big a crime to today's uplifters as flinching at an explicit gay porn film during a sensitivity seminar, or even worse farting during a talk being given by noted gay gadfly Dan Savage. The crime being that your fart could be heard, that is!

!!!

Speaking of Mr. Savage, this 'un from the TAKI'S MAGAZINE site (written by who else but Jim Goad) got me laughing and rip-roaring like nothing since that film I saw on Vietnam War atrocities. Really, I can't tell you how refreshing and inspirational it is to read something like this especially in these be kind to dumb radicals days, and hey if you're offended by what Goad and his various commentators have to say 'bout it all then so be it. Just remember that no matter how hard you've helped and rah-rah'd the new revolution that's upheaving our lives as we speak, it's gonna be your butt that's placed onna chopping block before anyone else's! Well, at least you guys are warming it up for me!

WHICH ONE DO YOU PREFER, THIS...

OR THIS???

As you might have noticed from some of my earlier entries, I've been toying around with the new post title application that has been made available on the nifty "create a post" page that I use to peck these things out at you. You know, the ones which presents the title of said blog in a nice, professional fashion (and underlined to boot) 'stead of in large bold type like the way I have been printing 'em for the past few years. (Astute readers will notice an example of both fashions directly above at the opening of this very post!) If you must know I prefer just printing the title of the post with the enlarged bold type, but I gotta admit that this new method of presenting titles (which not only appear in orange lettering but takes you directly to a link in which the post in question pops up 'n nothing but) does have a bit of a professional look to it. And considering how un-professional this blog can get perhaps something accruing a bitta upscale styling would suit it just fine. If you wanna make your own opinions on this subject known feel free to do so...in fact, such a dialogue on whether I should go with the new or stick with the old just might be the kultural event of the year considering how comatose this blog has been o'er the past few months!  (Frankly I'm leaning towards just doin' whatever I feel like when the urge arises or if the post would benefit from the new method...after all, this blog does reflect my own wishy-washy credo which I've been wallowing in my entire life!)

Now that we got the controversial portion of this blog outta the way here's just a little bit of what has been stimulating my stirrups this past week. Only one real "newie" in the batch (if you can call it that) passed by my ears which I gotta say is a rather depressing sign of just how stagnant the entire concept of rockism has become slowly but surely these past thirtysome years. Really, you'd think that here in the 'teens there'd be a serious attempt by independent labels or just plain ol' fans to make some of the better high energy material of the past (and even present!) available to the public at large, but as usual all of us true blue rockist fans have to rely on these days are the long-cherished items wallowing in our collections. Nothing wrong with that but sheesh, I could sure use some fresh blood injected into the standard playlist that sits comfortably by my li'l boom box on my bedroom! Until we hit the next great era of hotcha seventies reissues and exhumations its scouring the web for clues and hints regarding what will be the next great discovery, and of course revving up that ol' obsessive/compulsive disorder in each and every one of us wouldn't hurt one bit either!!!

Quiet Sun-MAINSTREAM CD + book (Expression UK)

Yeahyeahyeah I know....just how many versions of this album do you need in your collection, especially in these cash-strapped times? Well, I must say that I gotta hand it to the record companies for their uncanny abilities to sell old wine in new skins, and as you readers know that old wine sure goes down a whole lot better'n some of the new grog that's being pushed on us these days.

And as far as the new skins go, what a brilliant idea it was to re-package the infamous Quiet Sun album MAINSTREAM in a hard-covered book! And one that comes complete with a detailed group history, rare snaps, reviews from all of the major English weeklies and even a whole slew of rejection slips including a rather nasty one from Muff Winwood at Island, the label that would eventually release this platter if only because said company was now making bountiful moolah with group leader Phil Manzanara's new act Roxy Music and knew a good bandwagon to jump on when they saw it! Frankly, I would love to see some of my favorite albums repackaged this way from WHITE LIGHT/WHITE HEAT to the entire Amon Duul I catalog if only to prove to myself that these platters were as important as I've always believed they were to the canon of rockist expression! And that maybe I wasn't such a doof to think that these and many other platters were the ultimate in teenage throb thrills while everyone else was more concerned with Starcastle and other affronts against the wild and woolly world of rock 'n roll!

Bill MacCormick striking a particularly John Cale-ish pose.

This once perennial import bin stuffer is done well by this edition which not only digs a bit into the group's early days as Pooh and the Ostrich Feather (a teenage combo that deserves to get their own release more sooner 'n later) but Quiet Sun's early-seventies existence before various members found employment in the ranks of Roxy, Matching Mole, This Heat and Gong (!). Boffo layout, packaging and quality make a good compliment to the group's rather encompassing sound which I gotta say is something that'll appeal to everybody from the Canterbury freaks to the new fusion jazz buffs to krautrock nutz (especially Can fans) and even a few punks ("Bargain Classics"). If Tin Huey had made their album in 1976 'stead of '79 it would have sounded a whole lot like MAINSTREAM.

Could go on about the actual album and how it captures the entire import album spectrum of the time without the proggy excess or classical epiphanies (though one set of untrained ears heard the strains of YES in the grooves!), but I won't. Since I've already written this album up in the last issue of my own fateful fanzine I won't bother to repeat myself too much. However, I will add that the entire production is enhanced by the addition of some bonus tracks, some which have appeared on the Phil Manzanara solo album that came out on his Expression label a good decade or so back but you don't have to wade through the duffoid modern numbuhs to get to 'em. These early Quiet Sun demos tend to lean closer to the early-seventies modern English jazz sound (think Nucleus, Soft Machine and Caravan), and just might sound a little too primitive without the synthesizers and Eno's various "treatments". Still, it is an educational experience listening to the early versions of some of the well known MAINSTREAM trackage and studying their development o'er the passage of time which can be just as exhilarating to you as noting the development of various trackage from the Rocket From The Tombs to the Pere Ubu and Dead Boys days!

A def. must pick up even if you're one of those analesque types who still owns your original elpee with the "Jem" import sticker proudly emblazoned on the front. And considering how I as well as you still have that enthrallment regarding rock as a high energy force 'stead of background music to get laid to (considering how none of us would ever go for such unhealthy, perverted extracurricular activities) this new edition would be a most welcome addition to your collection. If this doesn't make its way to the top of the list for "Best reissue of 2012" then my mind is an even bigger sieve'n I originally gave it credit for being!

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Brian Eno-THE AMBIVALENT COLLECTION CD-R burn


Here's an oldie courtesy Bob Forward that, through every fault of my own, got plunked right smack dab into the back of the box where I usually keep all of thos spins which, er, don't really excite the hell outta me one bit or perhap even downright reek! Good thing I found it because I'm really gettin' hard up for some new 'n invigorating music to spin this week, and although I have enough moolah to buy out the local FYE it ain't like there's anything there that I'd care to buy out! So it's the oldies from now on, and you must admit that all of these Eno tracks are mighty old you Methuseleh you!

Since most of this is from the latter-Eno-days back when even DOWN BEAT began recognizing him as a fellow traveler, I must admit that I find a good portion of AMBIVALENT COLLECTION about as exciting as talking to Marcel Marceau. Strangely enough I hadn't been "offended" by this enough to wanna rip the disque from the player mid-synthesizer blurb, but still if I didn't say that this was one of the least raucous, toe-tapping platters to grace my player in ages I'd be lying to ya worse'n if I said I liked Anastasia Pantsios.

At least the compilers had the good sense to tack on single sides "Seven Deadly Finns" (classic Eno!) and "Wimoweh" (the beginning of the snooze) on the ass end at a time when they weren't exactly easy to snatch up digitally. Naturally that doesn't mean that the other fifty minutes have anything extreme goin' for 'em! As a writer for BACK DOOR MAN once said (and it's always good to fall back on their 35-year-old musings!), "If being boring was a sin, Eno would go to hell. Genius my left nut!"

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THE ORIGINAL WOLVERINES CD-R


I am surprised that I let this 'un go for so long. I thought I reviewed this back during the early years of this blog but a thorough search came up nada so I guess I was (and I shudder to say it) wrong. Judging from the handwriting this probably isn't a Forward burn (I'm guessing Jon Behar?) but it's a fine dub of a platter whose original visage has somehow escaped me. And really, given how my Cleveland rock obsession was goin' on full tilt for years on end I am one person who could use the entire debut WMMS-FM "Coffeebreak Concert" from 1972 starring none other than Peter Laughner and his short-lived jellyroll music group the Original Wolverines!

Mind you, this was recorded in '72 around that time that Laughner was seriously considering foregoing the rock 'n roll route and sticking to his folk and blues repertoire if only because the r/r field seemed so decayed at the time. As Charlotte Pressler said, if it hadn't been for a copy of CREEM that chanced into his paws we might never have heard him in Rocket From The Tombs or Pere Ubu, and one could easily have seen the guy playing the Cleveland folk circuit a la Alex Bevan for years on end had fate twisted itself ever-so-slightly. But whatever Laughner did (at least musically) he did pretty snat-like, and this set is no exception.

Nice, relaxed atmosphere with Laughner chatting it up with some hippie chick hostess and rolling through a set of  oldies and newies, even doing Little Feat's "Willin'" w/o comin' off like a singer/songwriter in the worst ROLLING STONE meaning of the term. Gotta hand it to the guy for being able to crank out music along these lines and still being able to get me to sit through an entire hour of it. That's pure talent, and it ain't because the guy was so universal in his tastes that he could listen to and enjoy the Grateful Dead, Bruce Springsteen and Laura Nyro as well as the Stooges, Lou Reed and Roxy Music!

Personal highlights just hafta include that longtime weeper "Out on the Town"* which makes me feel as lonely as the schlep that Laughner is singing about meaning HE DOES A PRETTY GOOD JOB OF MAKING YOU WANNA SLIT YOUR THROAT! And while yer at it, the cover of "The Story of My Life" sounds a whole lot better'n anything Brad Kohler would lend ear to while downing a few at some strange bar on open mic night. And how could I forget "Fat City Jive" which was written by former Backdoor Man Terry Hartman, who's now romping across the plain in the Deadbeat Poets along with ex-Blue Ash/Dead Boys member Frank Secich and Infidel John Koury, a guy who I actually used to "hang out with" when I was a younger and even more mentally stunted idiot than I am now (and boy, what he can tell you about that!). Haven't heard a note of their music but hey, I know they have the bop in 'em! With a lineup like that they MUST!

Dunno if this is still available anywhere 'cept via download (if you search hard enuff!). But whatever, this un's a fine hour of the Laughner of late-night bedroom recordings and solo acoustic gigs, and like the guy himself this could bridge both the nostalgic hipsters and punkoids extant. Without any rousing choruses of "Kumbaya" either 'n that's gotta count for somethin'!

***

Doctors of Madness-INTO THE STRANGE CD (Captain Trip, Japan)

Considerin' how Doctors of Madness Cee-Dees seem to be rather unobtainable at this time this weirditie (again, from the back of the stack) did come in rather handy. Handy for what I don't know since I consider this act as some sorta missing link between the English art/prog/glam scene of Roxy Music and the fartzier moments of the late-seventies new wave, but I gotta say that I was enticed. Sure Richard Strange can get on my nerves after awhile and the absence of Urban Blitz's violin strips down the sound mightily, but at least the final strains of import bin excitement can be experienced w/relative ease and it ain't like I wanna rip this one from the laser launch pad in abject disgust. Good enough seventies ambience here that should bolster the illusions I maintain about the seventies being the last great age in rockism and don't believe anything else!!!

***

MYSTERY SOLVED (kinda sorta) DEPARTMENT: you all know 'bout my interest in finding out and somehow documenting a good portion of the more "obscure" groups to have fluttered to the En Why See clubs in the seventies and beyond even to the point where I might actually "reduce myself" by attempting to locate information on various acts whose modus operandi fall way outside the at-times limited scope that this blog roams about in. I do it not only to satisfy my own curiosity but for self-important HISTORICAL purposes...after all, if you want to know what underground rock was like in 1975 you have to look to 1970 for a li'l background, and you ain't gonna know where you're going if you haven't known where you've been already, or something like that. Besides, I might somehow be finding a new hook to sink my psyche into, although for the most part I don't think I'd ever find it in an act who draws their energies more from the likes of Emerson Lake and Palmer than they do Iggy and the Stooges.

Yeah, I know that my search usually ends up with recordings by the likes of the Movies who really don't fill the bill, but I get the feeling that the odds are with me that the next few "finds" just might have some sorta zest and zing to 'em that'll make 'em top turntable/tape/Cee-Dee-Are spins for quite some time. And surprisingly enough, the latest in my search for recorded rarities has come not from a rare cassette or obscure album, but from youtube itself which only makes me wonder what OTHER strange under-the-radar recordings might be lurking on that site, probably featuring nothing but the same shot of the obscure band starin' away at'cha as their sole studio effort careens outta the speakers and into your psyche...

It's not that I had great hopes for today's group in question who roamed about using the moniker Jatra...after all, their name conjures up memories of seventies Inner Karmic Eastern Mysticism that the underground funnies used to endlessly poke fun at, and the Fred Kirby review of a gig at the old Cafe Wha? mentioned a strong Mahavishnu Orchestra influence which didn't exactly have me exuding pangs o' lust the way a good Stooges ref would. But hey, considering how a whole buncha people from Ken Highland to some guy writing in an old ish of OP mentioned how strong a Mahavishnu influence the original MX-80 Sound exuded (and I LOVE those surviving tracks that popped up not only on the BLOOMINGTON I sampler but the instrumental collection DAS LOVE BOAT) plus the fact that a NEW YORK ROCKER scribe described personal En Why faves Manster as having drawn their energies equally from McLaughlin and company along with ol' Frank Z, maybe there was something in those esoteric fusionists' music that I was missing. Maybe not, but at least there were at least a couple of groups who could take the spiritual slosh of Mahavishnu and actually do something underground and interesting with it, and since I'm grasping at straws to get some electric voltage into my system at this time I'm gonna grasp at any straws that may be out there I'll tell ya!

Anyway the hook that Jatra stuck into me was due to the group's two night gig (12/27-28) at the 1975 CBGB Christmas Festival playing on a bill with the Kane Brothers Blues Band (featuring future Swans drummer Jonathan Kane...check out the Bros' "reunion" CD which is good hard urban white blues that doesn't sound hippified in the least), glamsters Somebody Good and Orchestra Luna. And since former Shirts lead vocalist Annie Golden said that there were a whole load of Mahavishnu-influenced groups playing CBGB during the '76/'77 season I guess that Jatra were but one of 'em, which kinda makes me wanna know who the others just happened to be outta curiosity if anything. Well, they sure looked the part what with their well-groomed John McLaughlin-styled short hair and white clothing which gives 'em the same look your average AV Club member attending a Save the Whales meeting might've had at the time, but I know you're asking...did Jatra transcend their pious planes and deliver on the jams being kicked out? Were Jatra yet another MX-80 Sound or Manster, only with a clean living slate? Am I really THAT desperate that I'd even bother fishing about for information on some fusion act that would probably only rate "* 1/2" in DOWN BEAT had an album actually been released way back in them bad ol' days? Whatta buncha stoopid questions!

Before I go on any further I must clarify things...the four Jatra tracks found on youtube (the first which can be espied above...said viewing will lead you to the other three) were actually recorded in '78 which makes me wonder what these guys were doing in the three years since their perhaps only CBGB appearance. And while I'm at it, I'm also wondering what happened to Jatra founder Omar Mesa, the Cuban guy who had left funksters Mandrill to form this group but is nowhere to be found on these recordings, not to mention one of the other members I recall reading about (a femme cellist) from the aforementioned VARIETY writeup! Seems that by the time these live numbers were recorded the act had been reduced to a quintet with two guitars, bassist, drummer and a soprano saxophonist, and as you all know I really loathe soprano saxophones so that didn't bode well for my chances of liking these guys. I mean geekoid spirituality might be one thing, but SOPRANO SAXOPHONE??? ech!

And frankly, I gotta say that any group who would perform a song whose melody was "created" by Sri Chinmoy is probably still upset that the Comet Kahoutek didn't usher in a thousand years of lotus petal peace 'n love! But to be totally upfront and honest about it (which is the last thing you would have ever expected from me), I actually though that Jatra had their moments of power and might even with those Indian-esque scales and karmik gooshiness just busting out all over. At least I found these numbers palatable once I got the images of seventies Whole Earth Catalog relevancy outta my mind and thought of it as driving enough jazz rock that, with a li'l testosterone pumped into it, coulda been MX-80 Sound or maybe even Von Lmo! Anyway I've posted the above for you to try, and if you think they're too spiritual for your jaded self (like I tend to do even during their more fiery moments) then so be it. If anything, Jatra prove that there was at least one group a Mahavishnu freak could go see if their karmic whooziz needed a li'l spiritual realignment and John McLaughlin just happened to be out of town. They also prove that Debbie Harry was certainly right when she surmised in the pages of NME that only about 40% or so of the groups that played CBGB were indeed punk rock 'n the rest were....er, stuff like this!

(And as you probably expected, this li'l writeup also served as a come on for people who might have info, tapes, snaps and whatnot of various En Why See rarities of the past that I wouldn't mind knowing about. So like, if you were in one of the many short-lived groups that wooshed by on the mid-seventies [and beyond] New York underground scene [and other scenes to be honest about it] and would like your act to be remembered by more'n yourself and the drummer's crotchety next door neighbor howzbout sending some info, recordings, and maybe even snaps my way? And if you do happen to be one of these people willing to impart some bonafeed rock history my way, please don't do that ol' cocktease act on me! I'm tiring of you so-called "supporters" who write in with emails and phone numbers willing to tell me all about the various obscuros you had contact with physically/socially/sexually for all I know, then leave me colder'n a buck-toothed bride at the altar...in other words,  IF YOU AIN'T SERIOUS, DON'T WASTE YOUR [OR MY] TIME!!!! So be it, and for all of you TRUE BLUE fans willing to donate to the cause, what's keeping you??? [Other'n my personal address etc. which you can obtain from a linkup to a post for BLACK TO COMM back issues...see above...or by leaving your pertinent info as a comment which I will not publish for safety's sake 'n all that...])
____________________________________________________________
*w/o the reference to the "Harbor Inn," that hangout where Laughner took the kid down to but the cops they wouldn't let him in... and the place where the Electric Eels would act fey in order to start up a good fight with some unsuspecting blue collar type!

BOOK REVIEW! DIARY OF A PUNK BY MIKE HUDSON (Tuscarora Books, 2008), SPECIAL-GUEST REVIEWED BY BRAD KOHLER!!!


"When I wasn't working on the road, coaching Richie's baseball team or fishing for wild brown trout in one of the small limestone streams that flowed nearby, I'd take long walks through the woods and fields behind my house..."

Mike Hudson was the Anti-Clark. Kent, that is.

For a period during the Mach II (or III, possibly IV?) era of Cleveland's mighty Pagans, he toured and worked as a reporter at a small Western PA newspaper. But instead of being a champion of good a la Clark Kent, Hudson (whose body may not have been impregnable to bullets but was impervious to seemingly any combination of pills, dope or kryptonite margaritas) spread more noisy mischief than a dozen Mr. Mxyzptlks while making merry rock 'n roll anarchy on the road.

Hudson would then return to his typewriter at a newspaper office on virtually no sleep and still, with enough residual chemicals in him to bring down a charging rhino, proceed to tap out an op-ed piece on the local lady's auxiliary.

DIARY OF A PUNK (subtitled LIFE AND DEATH OF THE PAGANS) is a swel read. Sure, you get your share of distant-purple-majesty Cleveland scene history/gossip, first hand recollections of punk rock surfacing like a Plesiasaur from the brackish waters of the Cuyahoga, even the stats on all the releases for those of you scoring at home.

This guy...he wrote it!

But what I keep coming back to, what I can barely wrap my brain around, is Hudson's latter day schizophrenic existence as punk rock frontman and taxpaying citizen. Sure, Iggy put away his share of substances (and your share too) but he didn't have to bang out an above-the-fold story on deadline, or come up with a bunt sign for his kid's little league team. This requires a bit more effort than sprawling in a couch and discharging the blood from your syringe at the ceiling tiles.

Oh yeah. On that walk in the woods behind his house, Hudson dispatched a dangerous feral dog with the firearm he always carried with him. After reading this memoir, I'd have given him odds-on chances of offing the beast with his bare hands.

They don't make punks like these Cleveland punks anymore, and you know the Lois Lanes of the world go for the Anti-Clark every time.

DEE-VEE-DEE REVIEW! JOHNNY STACCATO STARRING JOHN CASSAVETES 3-DISQUE SET! (Timeless Video)

Boy wotta quandary! What do you do when you come up against something that all of the critics 'n snobs praise to the sky...y'know, the record albums, the moom pitchers or the musicals or whatever there is out there that martooni and olive types of people eat up to the point of vomitorium time, and you just happen to like the same snot as well? Well, you could feel embarrassed about it and act apologetic whilst in front of your pals who like the """really""" """""hip""""" stuff yer supposed to like, or you can just shaddup and keep your rather sick feelings to yourself. Or you can suck it up and just not be intimidated by what others think about your own tastes and artistic values just like you hold it in while the usual breed of manure minds make derogatory comments about your "lifestyle". Like Brad Kohler once said, "you don't have to hate the Marx Brothers just because Dick Cavett likes them!" But as for me well, I've always been needlessly self-conscious ever since I entered grade school (a traumatic experience I understand some children are lucky enough not to endure), so what would I do in this case...put down a certain item in order to present my more caustic side to the world or wax positively about it in order to prove that I can be just as shallow and trendoid as the usual inner circle of "right" opinions and "right" tastes nebbishes that we've been inundated with ever since the invention of the chattering classes oh so long ago?

Well, in the case of this long-lost legend at least I have Greg Prevost to fall back on, since he did an entire series rundown of JOHNNY STACCATO in the final ish of his long-gone and lamented OUTASITE fanzine and who can argue with that being a watermark of hotcha tastes! So hey, I can forget if that short lived series was a "critic's choice" as they used to say, because I don't have associate my tastes one iota with theirs in order to boost my own weak-kneed and flabby credo one bit! I can fall back on Prevost's stature and reputation instead, and if I'm gonna be a class "A" cop-out stick my finger to the wind to see which way it blows go with the flow kinda guy it better be Prevost's flow 'stead of some faceless En Why See snoot who don't believe anything unless he read it in THE VILLAGE VOICE or one of those new alternative weeklies that've been taking away that paper's steam for night on twenty years.

All funnin' aside, I gotta say that STACCATO was a series that got me hooked back when the Trio network was runnin' this one-season wonder a good decade back, and now that the entire series is within my pinkies (thanks to a Christmas present sent courtesy of who else but Kohler!) I can spin an episode or two whenever the pre-hippie boss jones hits me hard. And given the sick sack shape of television programming on all fronts these days the feeling hits me more often 'n not, so all I gotta say is why bother with THE SHIELD when I got a real wowzer of a tough guy program like this to eyeball?

You already know that John Cassavetes plays it nice'n ethnically greasy in these episodes as the piano playing private eye who jazzes it up at Waldo's (owned by Eduardo Cianelli, whom my father recognized whilst not knowing who Cassavetes was one iota!) while taking on cases or just getting the stuffing beat outta him whether he's on a case or not. Guess that comes with the profession, but despite being dragged through situations that would kill just about any normal human being Staccato comes out on top with that cool swagger and style that typifies what masculinity used to mean before all of those girly men types like Alan Alda began cluttering up the set. Adventure seekers and even sicko's'd do smart by picking this up in order to see the series of sordid capers and clear glass mazes Staccato finds himself in on a weekly basis, and (get this!), although the programmers hadda endure those "evil" and "censorial" "Standards and Practices" which were most certainly evident of a closed minded, racist culture, these episodes could get more creepier and sordid'n most of the cop/PI stuff seen on anything goes cable these days if you can believe it! Goes to show you that if you know how to work around a situation, you can have all the power in the world you so desire!

Nice ambiance and really boffo stories that work well even when they get into that social consciousness bag. Something which doesn't reek as much as it did in the seventies because in the late-fifties people were too naive to actually BELIEVE any of it. So when you see the episode about the Puerto Rican boxer the sentiments remain strictly pre-White Guilt Overload, and the one saga with Juano Hernandez as an old jazzbo caught up in a murder ain't gonna be bleedin' any white guilt outta ya like it woulda by the late-sixties. There's even a psychological thriller in the guise of "Solomon" where a flippoid Elisha Cook Jr. plays a lawyer out to defend an equally nutzo Cloris Leachman on a murder rap dragging Staccato right into the middle of it by asking him to do a li'l perjuring. Not only that, but you'll catch a whole load of stars both going up, down and stuck in neutral givin' it their all, like Michael Landon being able to make it through an entire production without whining, or Dean Stockwell as a slasher who's about to end it all early in the morn but gets talked out of it much to your dismay. Even Mary Tyler Moore pops up and boy does she come off like the bitch she reportedly is in real life...they even make her look so terrifying in that final scene where they give her the upward light shot like they did Rondo Hatton to the point where you wonder why you ever bothered having those dirty thoughts about her like you did back inna seventies!

Maybe the show only ran 27 episodes because Staccato became too punch drunk from all of those knockouts his noggin endured throughout the show's run. But at least these are up and runnin' for us boffo fans of Eisenhower/Kennedy-era programming that never seemed dated to me, mainly because I still believe that 1957-1966 was the prime era for everything on all fronts! And if you don't believe me like...ya deserve to exist (I won't say "live") in 2012. And man do I feel sorry for ya!