FANZINE YOU-KNOW-WHAT!

Before we get started well...I know that I'm not supposed to feel happy and gloat over the misfortunes of others, but it sure makes me pleased as punch hearing the Dave Marsh has gone and plopped his last turd on this planet of ours. As any tru-blu BLOG TO COMM fanatic knows in his heart of hearts knows by heart already, Marsh was one of the many worst examples of that sordid business known as "rock criticism", and his usually sappy takes on the music at hand whether it be rock, soul or even rap was something that always curdled my stomach juices to the point of surrender. Sure people are up and about remembering the jiz by mentioning all twenty-six volumes of his Bruce Springsteen biography not to mention his ROCK AND RAP CONFIDENTIAL which more or less espoused the guy's outdated youth radical zeal applied to sound which has aged just as much as Gary Trudeau's hippie bewilderment, but all that's popping into my mind is his horrid book covering the "Louie Louie" phenomenon as well as his purposefully vengeful review of THE DICTATORS GO GIRL CRAZY which I guess didn't hinder any sales of the platter at the time, but certainly didn't help them.  More will come to mind, and probably keep me awake all night. The living afterbirth always seemed to get it wrong whether it was  calling 16 a fanzine or misconstruing punk rock in the most candyass golly gosh WEST SIDE STORY fashion imaginable. Good riddance to thee Dave, although your passing certainly came a good half century too late. Wonder how Greil Marcus is feeling these days...

Anyhow, on to more tasteful things. I miraculously managed to get hold of a few more of these wondrous (some of the time) home-produced efforts that have thrilled me seemingly from time immemorial (and considering how old I am it might as well be!). I even got some long-wanted ones too which you can bet makes me feel happier than a teenage boy with a periscope who lives next to a nudist colony. 'n so, here goes...

What the world needed during them mid-seventies fun-packed days of Gerald Ford losing his balance, NYC in default and decay plus an overall beautiful jaded attitude amongst the smarter amongst us were fanzines devoted to some of the more over-the-wall bands who were permeating the planet. Well, we did have some like HONEY THAT AIN'T NO ROMANCE and IGUANA representing the views and opinions of the German and San Francisco branches of the Iggy Pop Fan Club, and if only had Constantine Radoulovich gotten his Velvet Underground fanzine off the ground a few years earlier maybe we wouldn't have had to wait so long before WHAT GOES ON eventually made it to our doorsteps in the late seventies. But as far as I know TEENAGE NEWS was the only fanzine on the planet that, at least during this period in time, was devoted entirely to none other than that group that immediately drove people in polar opposites...the New York Dolls! And yeah, if you would have asked the teenbo populace of the mid-seventies which group they should think have their own mag dedicated to 'em it woulda been the Dolls, right? Oh well, it woulda been nice if the teenage mindset of the day was more affixed to the Dolls than to Elton and his Johnson, but at least the Dolls had their fanbase that thankfully enough cranked out a fanzine at a time when one was most surely needed.

You can see why people like Jymn Parrett really flipped over this first ish and raved about it in his own DENIM DELINQUENT mag. I mean hey, sure it was a xerox one-side job not exactly reproduced the way some of you more demanding readers would have wished, but it sure was something you could say was plugged into the grittier aspects of mid-seventies rockist living which really woulda suited many especially in those days of heavy duty media blackout (not as blackout as the eighties on, but still bad enough).

Montreal in origin, TEENAGE NEWS is everything that I like about these mid-seventies reads. You can tell that the people who put not only this 'un but a hundred other fanzines out were hotter 'n ever for the sixties explosion and gladder 'n glad that they were lucky enough to live through and experience the big beat firsthand. Via the likes of groups like the Dolls they were more'n just willing to seek out any remaining fragments (or big chunks even!) of that glory that Davy Jo 'n company bestowed on many a lost frosh cramped up in detention.

Yeah, the xerox job leaves much for some of you more tight sphincter types amongst us to desire plus a lot of the pictures were obviously swiped from the likes of ROCK SCENE and other on-the-ball publications of the day. Sheesh, the review of TOO MUCH TOO SOON by Lester Bangs at his racist-iest was swiped out of either CREEM or PHONOGRAPH RECORD MAGAZINE, but ain't that just part of the charm of these clip out and paste up fanzines that still had that teenage spirit of being young and there was this world beyond your reach out there and you only wanted just a little piece of it for yourself?

In many ways this resembles one of those Lillian Roxon-urged fanzines that a buncha local gals cooked up around the same time (see ELECTRIC WARRIOR FREE PRESS review below) or such other crank outs along the lines of APPLE CORPS that might not have had the techno-whiz but still made one feel great that there was something around that was worth sticking around for. The future issues of TEENAGE NEWS were a little more universal in their coverage of what was happening in that then-exploding underground rock scene, but this early one does capture that early/mid-seventies sense of fandom and unbridled obsession that more than just a few teenbos out there possessed in their spirits.

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Since the last FANZINE FANABLA I came across yet another issue of the legendary LITTLE SANDY REVIEW and y'know what? This "vol. 2 no. 1" issue dated July 1966 is a somewhat different mag'n the last one, perhaps (but not definitely) because LSR founder Paul Nelson is nowhere to be seen and while the cat's away mouse Barry Hansen is bound to play. Oh there's still plenty of space devoted to the old folk blues type of guys who were only then being discovered complete with a few original photos and detailed biographies, but that evil specter of ROCK 'N ROLL was beginning to veer its ugly li'l head into the mix not only with a bound to get the folkies riled up review of electric Dylan's BLONDE ON BLONDE but snatches of stuff regarding the Beatles, Rolling Stones, Blues Project, Mothers of Invention's FREAK OUT and the first two Fugs albums if you can believe that! Heck, the brief singles review section makes mention of Love's "Seven and Seven Is" as well as the latest Byrds and a record by some group called the Sunday Servants (who sported a certain J.J. Cale as a member) which sounds like a real nugget if you ask me!  I can just see the mag's regular clientele being utterly revulsed at the contents of this one, that is before tolerating it then accepting and ultimately embracing it in typical Alexander Pope fashion.

I gotta admit that the rock 'n roll coverage is a nice progression from standard folk and blues orientation of the mag and perhaps it was the next logical step, but frankly I find the reviews of these records rather dullsville spewing a whole load of words but not really saying anything crucial or enticing in a way that would make me want to go and purchase let alone shoplift any of these records. But leave that to the likes of R. Meltzer and CRAWDADDY which were just around the corner anyway. 

Special attention should be made to the mystical prediction of shapes of things to come which appears in the inside back cover's "Rock 'N Roll Hall of Fame No. 1" entry, perhaps the first time that horrid idea was ever laid to print. The first entry in this perhaps somewhat unique way back when concept went to Arthur "Guitar Boogie" Smith, someone who I get the sneakin' suspicion is not in the real deal hall way up there in Cleveland Ohio.

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Here are a few that I don't think I've told you about, both of 'em noteworthy and important mags in the history of rock fandom for reasons I will naturally clue you in on. 

As you all know...back in the early seventies none other than the mother of "rock criticism" herself Lillian Roxon told her just-post menarche gal acolytes to go out and each do a fanzine on their favorite rock 'n roll acts. As a result we got some interesting kitchen-table pubs that were pretty remarkable efforts considering that the females who put 'em out probably averaged a "C-" in English...take for example Lydia Laske who cranked out a few issues of SLADE PARADER while Terri Ferris did well with DAVID'S GIRLS which later became STAR SPECIAL (a review pops up on this blog and good luck finding it). But for today we're talking about Natalie McDonald, a lass who devoted her time and energy (and I'll bet some of her lunch money) to ELECTRIC WARRIOR FREE PRESS. I gotta admit that the gal did a really good job of slapping together what was perhaps the first of hundreds of Marc Bolan fanzines that have made their way into the world of rock ever since those heady days of T Rextacy, and considering the effort and quality that went into this title I'm sure even the most anti-BLOG TO COMM amongst you would have to agree that this wasn't just any ol' gooey drooly paen to the one called Marc.

The world surely needed such a fanzine endeavor at the time and McDonald delivered on something more than the usual oh golly gee wall of air that many teenbo gals (and college paper wannabes) got into for years on end. This 'un's a rather smart mag with quality writing, fun fan art and if you can believe it a whole number of "professional types" helping out. Some contributors in the first issue hadda be axed due to space limitations, including one Peter Laughner which might have been one of the biggest editorial blunders in fanzine history. I mean, who in their right mind would hold up a Laughner article but eh, I guess McDonald didn't know who she was dealing with yet. And unfortunately enough I do not possess #2 so I'll have to forego what Laughner wrote about Marc and Company. Not that it's driving me crazy but...

I can't quite tell which material in this one originally appeared in the ultra-obscure all-gal fanzine BILGE, but you get a lotta good Bolania in these, including a Roxon article detailin' what she would do if she managed Our Hero to girls writing their own prose in the Chariot Choog'lin tradition. There are even a few pieces that were written up by those with a mothering instinct that I'll bet they never extended to their own brood. Rare snaps and of course up to date discographies help fill out this rather entertaining effort. They just don't make teenage girls the way they used to now, do they?

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It's harder than anything trying to get hold of John Kriedl's VIBRATIONS these days but when I do you can bet it's an occasion to toss the confetti over. What CRAWDADDY was to Swarthmore and MOTHER was to Austin, VIBRATIONS was to Boston and the scant issues I've seen were whatcha'd call pretty snat, especially the early slick paper glossy photo ones that had a pretty nice look to match the somewhat sophisticado but readable nevertheless writing courtesy Kriedl and his various contributors which at one time included a pre-Modern Lovers Jonathan Richman.

Nothing by Richman in this second ish from '67 but that doesn't mean the thing is a turdburger by any stretch. The rock scene of the day is covered, only in a to-the-point intelligent sorta fashion (none of that superficial college newspaper glop here I'll tell ya) complete with alla that insight that was starting to pop up in some of the smarter writing of the day. This 'un has Jeff Beck on the front and some good ruminations regarding the state of English rock as well as a piece on soul by Jon Landau (well, it is better'n something you would expect from the same guy who masterminded Bruce Springsteen's climb up the latter to suck sess). We naturally also get a bevy of reviews covering the newies of the day like Country Joe as well as that Velvet Underground review by Timothy Jacobs that was so good it's been reprinted to all heck. Speaking of the Velvet Underground, if only someone would reprint that Richman special insert that appeared with an early '69 issue back when this fanzine temporarily went tabloid.

A nice find here and if you can find any well, goody for you. Just hope ya don't forget yer ol' Unca Chris when yer making xeroxes for all your fambly and friends.

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SurprisesurprizeSURPRIZE but I actually got hold of one of them eighties rock fanzines that I missed out on first time 'round. No it ain't PUNCTURE (almost got one until I noticed a certain J. Neo's name in the credits) but TRULY NEEDY, the fanzine of one Barbara Rice who I understand later ended up as some sort of associate of Bob Dole if you can believe it (I got it from a good source too). Now that might be a twisted rumor (or mangled brainwaves on my part) but it would seem strange for someone who would cop an old Ron Reagan line as a snarky fanzine title to actually be working anywhere near a Republican, but stranger things have happened over the years and I should know!

I mentioned in the last Fanabla about the loads of fanzines that I missed out on back in the eighties due to my depression-era wages making sure every penny I had went towards a worthy enough purchase. It's only now that I'm trying to do a little catch up, and although the prices are way higher than they were back then at least I can get a taste of the kind of scribbling that I should have been privy to but wasn't due to my financial straits. Enough teeny weeny violins...here's a biggie from the eighties that I've only recently have been able to land my paws on, the seventh issue of Barbara Rice's TRULY NEEDY.

And with a name like that you know that TRULY NEEDY must be just as dated as the rest of the snarling anarcho/hardcore/punque "'zines" that made their way off of many a pampered pooch's drafting table. Well, yes and no, since editor Rice, at least judging from her letter that appeared in BIOHAZARD INFORMAE, had a sense of what rockist writing should be and how it was to play in a decade that seemed to eschew that previous Golden Age of Rock Writing era that fizzled out with the passing of Lester Bangs.

The mag looks pretty neat with the layout looking uncannily like the last two issues of the should-be infamous HYPE(RION), which not surprisingly came out roughly in the same vicinity as TRULY NEEDY and if it weren't an influence I would be surprised. The list of contributors is remarkable as well, and if I hadda spew anything negative 'bout this particular ish (#7) it is that the under-the-underground music scene of the day wasn't quite the kinda thing that I would want to wax eloquently over. Oh there were plenty of musical acts that would have sated my rockist cravings at the time, but danged if anybody I know would've even known about 'em let alone written 'em up in their mags.

For me hardcore punk was the last burst of creativity and ingenuity that had come out of the 1964-1981 rock 'n roll groundswell, and unfortunately it almost immediately burned itself out to the point where by decade's end the whole concept of punk certainly turned "punque" which only led up to the throngs of tiresome and humorless neo-hippie protestor types one sees these days whether he wants to or not. Of course back then some could start to see the rot setting in if one were to peruse an issue of many a competing rag more concerned with Nicaragua rather than jams kicking, but who woulda thought it woulda led to the kind of anarcho/gender/Maoist moosh many of us have to contend with these days!

Still, TRULY NEEDY's really worthwhile since not of that political pose affects this particular issue (maybe others?). This ish's got interviews with Flipper, Henry Rollins long before the self-conscious leftist moralizing set in, and Ian MacKaye who was probably well indoctrinated already and although I never cared for him you might and if you do get this!

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There were quite a few worthwhile fanzines to have crawled out of Canada, but in all my born days I never heard of BLAH BLAH WOOF WOOF. It's a slim affair (ten pages if you count the front and back covers) but it's a pretty good mag to read, with plenty of Canadian Content and more of that fannish style of writing you just never got outta most Big City Rock Critic types (unless you count Don Snowden, whose position at the LOS ANGELES TIMES was one case of "one of us" penetrating the halls of higher scribedom pretty much unheard of before or since), Material on the Curse and BOMP! magazine faves the B-Girls, the former with an interview even, and reviews of Martha and the Muffins during their early days and various other bands from up there are rather easy to be snatched. It has a good we're fans too attitude and guess what...the thing was the brainchild of one Ralph Alphonso, a name ones rather common in fanzine circles before those circles turned "square", ifyaknowaddamean,,,

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Given how outta the loop I've been with regards to fanzines in general during the late-nineties it's no surprise that FREQUENCY totally missed my radar eyes. It was an important enough effort what with a cover that looks like the eighties-era experimental music mags that you used to read about in OP, and the general layout and feeling really does fine by a guy like me who really isn't that keen on the newer computer-styled layouts that started popping up around the middle portion of that decade. I latched onto this because of the interview with Simeon of Silver Apples fame (never knew about the Warhol connection), and the rest of this is no slouch either even though I must admit that I am not familiar with what else in covered here and it ain't like I'm exactly gonna rush out any buy any records by any of these acts either! I like it in its own smart and well-produced way and there should have been more fanzines like this popping up back in those somewhat communication-starved days.

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As we all know there were rock and related (somehow) fanzines coming outta England at a rapid pace during the seventies and eighties. Many of them were good, others were atrocious and, like with many other endeavors of the same caliber, we hadda really make an effort to choose wisely lest our hard-begged be wasted on some dismal crudzine in the process. 

NO CURE's yet another one of these fanzine rarities that I never heard of before, and unless you're the editor's mother I guess you never heard of it either. Like with most of these outta nowhere wonders that got lost in the shuffle this is too bad because it really is a good 'un that should have gone onto brighter things, or at least whatever there was that was brighter in the English music fandom world. 

It looks like one of the better rags to have hit the world of under-the-underground music, what with the opening schpiel printed in lettering that was very similar to Lindsay Hutton's in the pages of THE NEXT BIG THING. They really must teach 'em how to print over there. The innards, while quite similar to a few thousand other magazines of the same strata, are well written and actually pretty in-tune with some of the better musings to hit the ears during the mid-eighties. There's also a page on the Ramones, The Mighty Stripes (a reggae outfit and not that later-on group with Stripes in their name), some local yokels calling themselves Savage Vinyl and, as a real feather in the cap, an article on NEW MUSICAL EXPRESS photographer Pennie Smith, a gal whose role in that paper and its role in the paper's Golden Era was just as important as that of Mick Farren, Nick Kent and Charles Shaar Murray's. Talk about some outta nowhere fanzine getting hold of a real scoop!

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Here're some more English ones, and given a title like NMX you just know that these two mags are pretty Merrie Olde in their own unique way. I snatched two of 'em up (#'s 14 and 15) and must admit that I marvel at the way these fanzines capture the entire early-eighties avgarde electronic rock milieu quite down 'n dirty. Not that I could actually AFFORD to snatch up all of those imports that businesses like Systematic and Rough Trade were dishing out way back in those extremely penny-pinching times (Believe-you-me, I had to be extremely cautious as to where my hard-begged pennies went) but eh, it is fun reading about Throbbing Gristle, Cabaret Voltaire and reviews of fanzines I never read and never will, thinking back to them days when the world of underground music was laid at my feet and I wondered just how my grass cutting money was going to be put to good use.  

Number 14 has articles on Clock DVA (never heard 'em), They Must Be Russians (ditto), Sexual Lotion (you'd think I'd wanna hear 'em with a name like that???) and other sundry types who perhaps really ain't that sundry to begin with. The following issue does it somewhat better with a big Throbbing Gristle interview, a Sheffield family tree for those of you who are really hot for things like that, pieces on bands you've never heard of before and never will after this, and even an interesting bit on then-current fanzines which did perk up an OCD kinda guy like myself. This kind of fanzine might not exactly be the type that suits my typical cravings for under-the-wire writing that borrows heavily from the type of rockscribing that I tend to settle down with, but I found both of these NMXes very "spot on" as they like to say over there with regards to the then-budding electronic underground music that was making for some rather beyond the pale kinda irritating waves, at least for a short time. 

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While we're overseas here's another English rag that you'll probably wish you got hold of only you lived in rural Mississippi and in no way were you gonna be able to latch onto a fanzine like this. Dunno what the title TEESIDE SMELLS exactly means but so what since this was a rather good effort and a whole lot more'n what anyone would have expected from some upstart fanablas who probably just went out and DID IT rather than settle back and study the fanzine process beforehand. 

This second issue is pretty golly gee, dated late '79 and pretty much capturing a whole load of the musical tension and energy that was still coming out at the time. These guys were into the essentials of the day like the still festering corpse of the Sex Pistols and Patrick Fitzgerald, not forgetting the usual local band roar up and various asides like a review of Ralph Bashki's animated LORD OF THE RINGS making this one of those fanzines that showed a whole load of doofuses out there that there were other things than music to pay attention to, at least for a short amount of time.

The most surprising thing about TEESIDE SMELLS is not only the article on the Who that was more or less written in honor of the deceased Keith Moon but an actual Roger Daltrey interview where the curly-haired one actually settles down and gives more'n the usual uh-huh answers. A real feather in their scalps if I do say so myself. A mag like this makes me glad there were more'n just a few smart lads out there who could write, dissect and appreciate the music at hand 'stead of all of those College Paper Erma Bombeck wannabes who continue to make me gag thinkin' 'bout all the disgusting happyhappy music scribbling they managed to put out!

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Here's an interesting find that is also of English heritage, the first issue of AYLESBURY ROXETTE. In case you don't remember (or have read some of my very early blogposts), this was a newsprint fanzine that was put out by the likes of Andy Childs and Kris Needs back when they weren't' fiddling around with ZIGZAG. I gotta say that I enjoyed the other ROXETTEs that I possess, but to be more honest than Eddie Haskell about it this debut really doesn't hit all of the expected fanzine buttons that I like to be plunked. Being a small foldover this comes off more like any free paper one would see throughout the seventies and eighties (which would figure since it was free!) and the entire package comes off more like an in-joke between all those involved and if you're outta the loop that's your tough turds! Just some stuff on the then post Hoople Mott, but that's really about it as far as anything noteworthy goes. The later ones were filled with the kinda of fun and vitriolic scribing that I enjoy from the worst of us human specimen, so in some ways you could say that the paper "grew" ifyaknowaddamean...

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One more English fanzine 'til we go stateside. Well, actually it is Scottish, and with a name like FEAST IN THE GARDEN I sorta wonder what to expect and even after reading this I have my own doubts considering the mindset I went into giving it the ol' once (and twice) over. Local bands seem to be the thing with these guys which is fine even if for the life of me none of the groups that FEAST IN THE GARDEN mentions seem to ignite my nodes. Maybe its because this was the early-eighties and my interest in local under-the-underground acts tends to waddle somewhere between the late-sixties and mid-seventies, a time before jerks like myself discovered these sounds.

Well, a piece on a local heavy metal group called Sister (I wonder how many groups sported that name in the seventies?) seemed somewhat interesting, and I'll bet this magazine served its purpose as a heralder of what good (I think) was happening in the immediate (Glasgow) area and if you were there you needed this. Features a one-page tribute to the late Ian Curtis and a Wayne County lyric.

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Hmmmm, if it weren't for AURAL INNOVATIONS I wouldn't even know that there was such as thing as a space rock continuum so to squawk. For those of you who believe that the entire idiom fizzed out around the same time that Nektar got stung to death you're wrong as usual. Nice mag here which covers not only a load of super-obscure acts with a few somewhat knowns like Chrome tossed in for good measure. And if you're looking for larger than life reviews Doug Walker of Alien Planetscapes did a big thing on the then-recent BITCHES BREW repackaging with all of the additional trimmings! The modern typeset doesn't appeal to me but everything else about this overlooked fanzine sure does!!!

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There's not much to this issue of ON THE BEAT, but what is in there is sure worth the while. It has smart writing---what a surprise!---and some interesting coverage on Washington DC-area hero Tommy Keene of Razz fame not to mention some reviews of the Oblivious with Holly Beth Vincent of Italians fame not to mention that Velvet Underground reunion thingie that got more'n just a few people like myself all agog (though the shimmer sure wore out once ya realized that this Velvet Underground was being filtered through '90s spic and span polish and glitz without the grittier aspects of sixties NYC gutter vision). One-sided printjob and kinda brief but its got the beat and if you were around way back when you could pick it up for free!

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Back to England. There are so many obscure fanzines that were up and about during the late-seventies/early-eighties that it would probably take a thousand me's to go through them all. Some were great, some feh and many just middling, but I'd gander that most all of 'em were worth at least a quick perusal. CRASH SMASH CRACK RING was definitely a fanzine of the the former variety and a pretty snazz one at that. Not only did this English effort cover the hotter under-the-underground sounds of the era like the then-recently "reformed" Red Crayola but they had a real sense of history to 'em...like take the opening editorial recalling the downright heroes of the seventies from Barrett and Bolan to Iggy and JESSE HECTOR (added points for them even KNOWING who he is) along with writeups on acts that I may have heard of but never heard (like the Door and the Window) and those I never really cared that much for like Essential Logic. Maybe I should give 'em another try because in this company they really do seem to matter more'n I ever knew they would. These guys had it on the ball...really worth the time it took to pour through the thing.

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And now for something to throw you off track, a non-rock fanzine! I didn't think there'd be any fanzine editors who would brazenly and proudly describe their efforts as being crudzines. Sure there were many of those monstrosities out there in fanzine land, but who in their right mind would have just come out and admitted that they were dealing out a load of crap masquerading as fan-based, insightful, thoughtful writing? Well I know of one that has, mainly THE CRUDZINE QUARTERLY, and although I believe that honesty in advertising is something we all could use a whole lot more of I would consider this effort to be rather non-cruddy, especially when compared to some of the turdballs I've been privy to for more years than I can imagine.

This "crudzine" (edited yearly, published bi-monthly) might be a slim jim but the writing is good and the layout readable enough especially given the reproduction of some of these homespun efforts. Four pages (not counting the cover), this looks more like an entry into some APA than a full-fledged publication, and the contents are strictly fan-oriented talking about home printing methods (the crank kind like Greg Shaw used to do) and inter-fan gab that will never interest anyone outside of the genre but eh, I could be wrong. But the big wonder about this issue is first, when was it published (I assume late-fifties by the looks of it) and second, what fan-based genre is THE CRUDZINE QUARTERLY catering to? I think Sci-Fi since Arthur C. Clarke and QUANDRY get mentioned but otherwise, who can tell?

Still, one of many pretty hotcha publications to come out of the realm and like, it does look nice snuggled next to some of the mags in my should be much larger fanzine collection.

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And to close things out...well, this really ain't a fanzine but it is a magazine and you can read it on the toilet so why not stick it here? And this rag does have some sorta connection to the groundswell that was sixties rock 'n roll, for THE FIFTH ESTATE used to be the home of the Ann Arbor rock 'n revolution crowd whose antics have been legendary ever since the day some jamoke had the wild brainstorm to start a magazine that he called CREEM. Only don't expect the same sorta anarchist abandon that gave birth to such stellar aggregations of the Stooges and Up because well, frankly, the material that pops up in this by-now ancient ish (Feb. 2021) is about as dull as a Left Handed Herniated Latinix Workshop. After reading a few pages you kinda get the idea that each and every person who was involved with this magazine has never heard of Right Guard. The same old same old these people've been rehashing for ages just seems to go on and on, and this special issue consisting of nothing but book reviews just goes to show you how humorless and staid whatever's left of what was "anarchism" has become (and believe-you-me, the only anarchist I care about these days is Lew Rockwell!). In other words, if you think that everything possible that could have been said about the Haymarket Riot has already been written, guess again.

Two bits on music do pop up, one a book on punk rock and Reaganism in the eighties that author Bill Brown evidently lauds but fails to realize that all this sound amounted to was the total hippificaton of punk into punque that practically killed off the form (other'n the usual hidden enclaves where it somehow thrives) and the other a review of the Residents book THE BRICKATEERS which ties in all sorta dada cum Bakunin here and there stuff that I somehow don't think the Residents had in mind while putting this thing out.

But still one can find humor in these pages --- if one has the warped mind capacity to look in the right places. In some women's libber scribed book review (written by someone I'm sure still has a poster of Mao in her crashpad) a woman can be seen holding ta placard reading "A WOMAN'S PLACE IS IN YOUR FACE". After looking over the snap a few seconds I figured that the sign should have read "ON" and if I were there I woulda told the lady just that! What are a few broken teeth for the cause of humor anyway?

And frankly, as far as anarchist rags go should one really trust a rabblerousing radical read like this what with a barcode on the front cover?

BOOK REVIEW! DESCENES AND DISCORDS : AN ANTHOLOGY (DiWulf Publishing, 2025)

Well, it's called that or DISCORDS AND DESCENES : AN ANTHOLOGY depending on how you flip the book. But still, this totally who-woulda-thought-they'd-ever-do-it package contains each and every issue of this important Washington DC-area fanzine that I and maybe even you missed out on back when the thing was up and about in the late-seventies and early-eighties. Well, it wasn't like BLACK TO COMM was gettin' the much-needed distribution back when it was alive 'n kickin' either, but then again DESCENES/DISCORDS wasn't just a piddler in the world of fandom but a big up 'n comer, this nation's capitol's answer to THE NEW YORK ROCKER/SLASH and a mighty contender as well. It's a shame that this one wasn't as well-known with the cooler'n hip pretenders like myself who used to plunk down the pennies for the NYR back when the pennies just happened to be piling up. Which at the time wasn't often.

Not just any rockzine, DESCENES/DISCORDS was the brainbaby of none other'n Howard SM Wuelfing, a guy who I must admit is up there with my favorite Golden Age of Rock Fandom writers whom I've mentioned over and over again these past few decades unless I wrote something bad about the guy I totally forgot about.  And given that the NYR was a template for this very creation you can see the comparisons, only with a DC focus that sure brought to light whatever it was going on in the burgh. 

That means loads of Bad Brains back in their pre-dreadlock days when HR used to wear that old suit and do back flips as well as the Boys Slickee and White, and heck even the Urban Verbs get more'n just a few plugs which some might say area few more plugs than they deserved. Wouldn't know personally since I never did lend ear to these guys but eh, rumors do abound.

DESCENES/DISCORDS captured what is known as the zeitgeist of the days, and mags likes these were definitely thee thing for those of you who,  like me,were looking for signs of life amidst the humdrum disco and ROR ("Retard Oriented Rock") that locally was being pushed by utter cubes like local radio "talents" Thomas John and Bob Popa who I both hope meet tragic endings soon (unfortunately the jerks that I knew ATE IT UP hook line and bong!). Back then it was sure grand just to merely see a brief namedrop of some currently obsessed with band past or present in the pages of even STEREO REVIEW f'rgoodnesssakes as if the local library would even think of stocking BACK DOOR MAN. If only DESCENES/DISCORDS had entered my life at the time boy would that trajectory called existence gone in an entirely different, and perhaps even more pleasant direction.

I often wondered what Mark Jenkins was up to fanzine-wise after his own HYPE(RION) deep-sixed back in early 1975 and now I know. The guy's all over these pages as a not only an editor but a contributor and art director and as I would have guessed his tastes for early-mid-seventies punkisms were still firmly in place judging from his knowledgeable coverage of the New Beat. Jenkin's galpal and former HYPE-ster Libby Hatch also makes a few appearances both as a contributor and as the subject of various live reviews in her role as a bass guitarist of local renown. I would assume that if HYPE(RION) had make it into the early-eighties it would have looked somewhat like DESCENES/DISCORDS and really, it's too bad that it didn't because we always could have used one more fanzine along the lines of this 'un on the market.

Not to say that there were signs of decay as the years rolled on what with the underground shift from the post-Velvets/Stooges mindset era of underground rockism into early-eighties hardcore (although DESCENES/DISCORDS thankfully called it quits before the HC era traipsed into pseudo-hippie radical snooze, the offal of which you can now whiff anywhere you go). Some of the people who ended up writing for the mag just weren't what I would call up to snuff and unfortunately began to typify the miasma that underground rock criticism found itself in by the time the nineties began to make me feel like why I bothered in the first place. 

Still some surprises pop up in between the Ian Mackaye interviews and such, like Jim Testa's gab with Vivien Goldman which for me absolves all of the negative blah that Testa has been subjugated to throughout the years. Some people (like a certain Bostonian who was also a later-on DISCORDS-era contributor and bitter enemy of Testa come to think of it) just carry mad-ons to cover up for their own insignificant existences I guess.

The mag was a surprisingly grand effort, varied in its coverage of the hip 'n with it, that I sure wish I was rich enough to afford way back when if I only knew the dang thing existed! And an anthology like this does make up for at least a little bit of lost time even if for all intent purposes the music that was covered in these pages is unfortunately long dead and decayed. A mag that knew what the Big Beat was all about, and how can anyone not love a mag that devoted more than just enough ample space to Half Japanese! If there are people around today who write about rock or any sort of music good or bad, this book is a good lesson in how not to fudge it up!

As I've come to expect having lived so long and learned so little, reality tends to step in more often than not and make existence so dry and run of the mill to the point where these days everything seems just like one big blurry picture. So like, don't expect much this time because I know that you sure don't want to hear every sordid detail of my daily sideways-turd excruciating bowel doodies or cootie infestation now, do you? Yes, after over a month of letting these jam-packed mega blog posts go by the wayside life has become so dull (if that was imaginably possible) to the point where I can't even mention something different and unique that has happened in this humdrum wonderful world of mine in a lame attempt to go one up on you all. 'n go ahead, break out your world's tiniest violins and see if I care!

The only real new and downright exciting thing that I can say this time is that my new favorite snack is a hunk of Swiss cheese with a hot and spicy (stone-ground preferred) mustard spread/squirted on it which may explain my toilet troubles, and while I'm at it try to avoid the limited edition A&W Root Beer Float flavor. Now it is somewhat good in a Boston Cooler/milkshake with loads of vanilla ice cream dumped in but on its own the stuff's overpowering with a strange flavor that for some reason reminds me of those sweet perfumes women use that really know how to draw in the fruit flies. Otherwise it would be accurate to say that Karen Quinlan's day probably beats my life but eh, 's better'n nothin'...

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The recent passing of Jeff "Monoman" Connelly is something that I thought I should mention on this here blog if only to alert the few of you who probably haven't heard the news by now. Loved by some, hated by others, Connelly's endeavors with DMZ and later on the Lyres still rate as some of the better late-seventies and eighties under-the-underground rock around (even though I hated his A PROMISE IS A PROMISE effort), and although I never had a rendezvous with the man himself well, his bye-bye just goes to remind all of us as to just how mortal we fools be and how we all think we're going to live to be 120 when all of a sudden the ticker just goes kablooey on you for no reason whatsoever. Some of you out there might have had some actual run ins with Connelly and if so well, maybe you can share them with us via the comments section or better yet just keep 'em to yourself. Judging from the lack of response from some of you wonks out there history like this deserves to be lost for all time if only to spite evil types of beings such as I. As was written back when they debuted in Boston a good half-century back, DMZ were the city's latest heavy metal group and if only the metallic pansies that cluttered up the latter portion of the past century had listened... 

And worst of all, they never did get to play at Beaver Cleaver's house.

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This Lester Bangs episode in the ROCK 'N ROLL MYSTERIES series might be a watch that's right up your alley, but then again there's no way I can read any of you regular tuner inners. Whatever, why don't you give it a try:

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Anyone out there have any information/pix/recordings of the Texxas Tyrants, a heavy metal cowpoke trio who played San Antonio in the early eighties? I guess these guys were that long-lost group I saw an ad for in a September 1981 VOICE announcing their appearances at a by-then dying Max's Kansas City one night and a CBGB audition the next. From what little information I have on hand I'd gander that the Tyrants came off like the kind of hard rock act that I'd more than love to immerse myself in given the rather unique nature of their music. Hope you San Antonio types can help me out here but eh, I know none of you would dare lift a finger to help me so why should I bother asking you ingrates in the first place!

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I've got more than what one would call a lovely bunch of coconuts this time. Some of the items up for scrutiny just might lean a tad little on the "proggy" side (well, perhaps the first four or so), but I do find a fair amt. of punkitude being presented on these efforts, especially on the Cheval Fou album which has become a somewhat frequent spin 'round these parts. Still you will enjoy reading and perhaps even pilfering some of these records because I know you just like I know the back of my back. Kudos to Paul McGarry whose big box of goodies is bound to keep me occupied for ages and Robert Forward for the Ash Ra. Even PD Fadensonnen managed to send his latest and hey, where else are you going to read about the guy anyway?

CHEVAL FOU LP (PQR Records, France)

I know how a fairly good hunk of you readers all hate my droolathon wind-laden reviews filled with hype for obscure recordings by groups none of you would give a wang-dang-doodle about in a million years. Too bad, because I just chanced upon an album that I can really sink my entire being into and I'm gonna spend all the space I want to tell you about the thing. So there and nyah on you!

And after a good spell of musical Helen Kellerisms this album is something that you could say is more than welcome around my parts. Sheesh, but I think I actually came upon a platter that could reach into my inner workings and do a fine rearranging on 'em the way that such past items as THE VELVET UNDERGROUND AND NICO, FUNHOUSE, MONSTER MOVIE, ORIGINAL NORTHWEST PUNK and even REHEATED CHOCOLATE TANGOES have during a fairly long portion of my existence. In reality I sincerely doubt it but eh, at least this is a spinner that threw some sunshine into my otherwise eclipsed existence.

Yes, this very limited edition album by an early-seventies French rock group really had captured my attention proving that there still is some unheard rabble to have come out of early-seventies mainland Europe just waiting to be uncovered. Cheval Fou do a finer than fine job encapsulating all of the things that drove more than just a few passerbys (like me for example) to this breed of music in the first place.

These Cheval Fou guys (two guitarists, one also playing sax, plus a drummer), along with Hawkwind and the Pink Fairies, did a pretty good job of keeping the psychedelic era going a few years after many thought it had pretty much flopped over and played postmortem. They also have a good punk rock-y (in the best BTC sense) edge to their sound that reminds me of a stripped down PHALLUS DEI-period Amon Duul II with some MONSTER MOVIE thrown in. You can toss a number of other acts of your own liking into the mix as well and I'm sure some of your all-time faves will turn up in the Cheval Fou musical makeup.

The trio do get some help here/there, but it's mostly its Fou playing their experimental music and doing it in a way that would still appeal to the European proggy freaks while satiating the more fringe amongst us. Some future shock is to be found as well...take "La Fin de la Vie" what with certain parts evoking a weird early-period Cabaret Voltaire negative groove with the beat and outer space haze of mid-seventies Suicide, and do I hear more than just a bit of Dr. Mix floating about somewhere?

But the psychedelic guitar line on "Hannibal" does flash this album back to the early proto and thus superior punk seventies from whence it came. And keep both ears open for LP closer "Meteorites" which could be an "LA Blues"/"Black to Comm" homage to match Umela Hmota 3's "I'd Rather be Made Out of Stone"...wouldn't slip it past my mind.

Comes in a nice fold-out poster package with splatter vinyl for those of you who still live in the ginchiness ot the late-seventies. An album worth seeking out, and since only 300 of these got pressed well, you better do your own searching and do it HARD!

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CRIUM DELIRIUM CD (Legend Music Records, France)

These guys get lumped in with Cheval Fou, Dagon, Red Noise and a few others as far as being part of some sort of early-seventies French experimental rock that even the punks got into. And yes these Delirium guys are somewhat dangling their tootsies in the waters of under-the-underground rock, but unlike Cheval Fou and the rest they undoubtedly place their musical abilities and drug-consuming credo well before their general punkitude. In fact at times Crium Delirium can get somewhat "import bin rock-y", and not exactly in a European Expressionism Rock sorta way. 

Still, if you're a fan of Gong you'll probably love this gathering of early/mid-seventies pothead pixie music. One track that popped my pimple is "Les 'Road-Managers'" which bears an uncanny resemblance to "Silver Machine". If it is any consolation to the more "hip and with it" readers of this blog the liner 'thank you"'s lists the likes of Lou Reed, John Cale, Brian Eno and Patti Smith.

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Zweistein-TRIP*FLIP OUT*MEDITATION 3-CD set (Captain Trip Records, Japan)

It downright stymies me that at one time a major record company (in this case Philips) would have even thought about releasing a beyond-the-fringe triple record set like this one! But hey, those were the times when even the biggies were willing to take wild chances, and if Philips would actually back such an effort as this "three movement" musique concrete concept album you must say that they were on the same brainwave length as ESP back when the Cromagnon album hit the bins of the very late-sixties. Nowhere as chaotic though, but still...

First movement-random electronic noise/feedback turning into warbly soft waltz-time femme vocals singing a slowed down late-sixties pop riff with oscillating jibber jabber. Then more electro-grunts and organ drones with some woman talking kraut in-between show up. Slip some old dance music overlayed with oscillating flange and I think there's yet another jab at the older generation going down somewhere in there. 

Second movement --- flanged tape garble moves into furry Pict gab and Mel Blanc trumpet burp before mangled found sound meets kraut kindergarten recitation. Then one of the kids plays around with a squeezebox while another bangs a square peg into a round hole. The accordion goofer-offer ultimately grabs a child's toy flute to toot on before aimlessly strumming open chords on a guitar. Of course there's also the old German music thrown into the mix with more of that clanging going on, which I think is a commentary of that nation's part military as well as political history. Sort of "Seig Heil Cool Cats!"

And for being such a good boy you also get to hear Zweistein's non-LP single entitled "I'm a Melody Maker"/"A Very Simple Song"...both sides structured albeit with more of those toy flutes aimlessly playing on. You might like it, because I do in my own downhome cornball way.

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Ash Ra Tempel-TIMOTHY LIKES KRAUT-ROCK 2-CD-r sect (bootleg)

Who would have thought that an Ash Ra Tempel bootleg would ever see the light of day, and one that sounds as clear as this particular effort! Actually this is nothing new since half of it turned up on parts of the long-gone collection entitled THE PRIVATE TAPES while the rest is actually the entirety of the SEVEN UP album which was done with noted acid doof Timothy Leary thus giving it the hipster credo a record like that most certainly deserved. Hardcore Ash Ra Tempel fans already have this stuff but if you're one of the many who I assume never did get into the essentials well...ya wanna hear it?

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Cabaret Voltaire--METHODOLOGY '74/'78. ATTIC TAPES 3-CD set (Mute Records, EU)

Most of you know that I never did pay Cabaret Voltaire no mind back when they were first up and about, only "getting into them" during the early-eighties when their records could be obtained at rather inexpensive prices. It wasn't until it dawned on me like a meteor from Rockismland that these ozobs were bred from the same best of the sixties (Velvets/Seeds/Shadows of Knight...) and the seventies (Can/Hawkwind...) which was supposed to give way to a bright and beautiful eighties just like their contemporaries Pere Ubu and Swell Maps were doing at the same nanosecond. Unfortunately the eighties solution didn't quite pan out the way I sure wished but still, you gotta give credit to Cabaret Voltaire for screeching about in that glorious, positive way back when we actually thought this music was going to blast out into the fanablasphere and brighten up the feral side of youth culture for years to come. HAH!

This triple set's for the fans. First two disques mostly feature early electronic soundscapades and short experiments that will probably turn off the novice, though if you liked the 74-76 cassette that came out way back when you will cozy up. The third one features early Rough Trade-period Volts and in fact these may be the exact same tracks we've heard for years and I would be sure if I were only able to do a side-by-side analysis. If only the booklet notes were readable I'd be positive about it. Whatever, highly recommended for all of you longtime fans of this breed of blare.

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Razorlegs + Jim Sauter-LIVE AT THE FOOTLIGHT 12-inch 4 5 RPM (Fandesonnen Records, available via razorlegs.bandcamp.com)

After a rather long silence (one that really felt like a silence), PD Fadnesonnen and band are back, this time live with former Borbetomagus saxist Jim Sauter proving that all of those avgarde neo-jazz noisecranks didn't die out with the mags that used to cover them. Sound quality is surprisingly 1980s portable cassette but that's all to the better, emphasizing the fact that Razorlegs and Sauter ain't exactly the kind of people who cater to the HI FIDELITY magazine sense of technowhiz "quality". People who have been in on not only the Borbetomagus but the Fadensonnen game since the start should be honed to this sound already. Available in a few days so beat the rush and click on the above link.

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The Styrenes-IT'S STILL ARTASTIC CD-r burn (originally on ROIR Records)

Sure I've had most all of this and have had it a good long while, but it's always right and proper to give these guys one of those once in more than just a blue moon listens.  I hardly spin the Styrenes the way I usedta so wha' th' hey...this effort just reminds me of why they were one of the top echelon groups to play out in Cleveland during the Dark Ages of Pantsiosdom (though she actually claimed that she liked Mirrors...even if they were "cannon fodder"). 

This 'un has most of the singles, a lot of the album and even a few new things unheard by my ears. A fine document of a group that you should all have known about and cherished way back when, but why once again why was the alternate (and not as good) version of "Radial Arm Saws" rather than the single take used???

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Kim Fowley-HOTEL INSOMNIA CD-r burn (originally on Marilyn Records)

This isn't OUTRAGEOUS or outrageous for that matter, but I find listening to Kim Fowley records a whole load more engaging than being subjected to most of the sounds passing for rock 'n roll that have been created these past sixty or so years. This '94 release contains music that would have fit in swell on Fowley's last six or so albums as well as some interesting surprises, interesting in the fact that the songs with an acoustic guitar player backing Fowley sound a whole lot like Peter Laughner's various bedroom endeavors. Who never said that Fowley wasn't in tune with the real pulsebeat of the under-the-underground anyway?

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Various Artists-GROOVIN' ROUND THE WORLD --- A TRIBUTE TO THE FLAMIN' GROOVIES 2-CD-r set (originally on Safety Pin Records)

Like Fowley, the Groovies kept going on and on until they just couldn't, and although I really tend to despise these old "tribute" sets that began proliferating the bins of the late-eighties onwards I find this one up and at 'em just like the Stooges and Troggs ones from a good thirty-plus years back. A whole bunch of groups I never paid attention to (or heard of for that matter) do the Flamin' bit as good as anyone could imagine, paying homage to their heroes 'stead of using 'em as a platform to preen and prance to their own amerindie desires as was wont the case with more than a few Velvet Underground efforts of a similar vein. Sure nice listening to these tracks again and who knows, maybe this will spur me on to digging out my old 99-cent Kama Sutra-era platters that have been left alone for maybe way too long!

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The Rolling Stones-MUSIC FROM CHARLIE IS MY DARLING CD-r burn (originally on Universal Records)

Too much has been written about this group to warrant even one more semicolon, so you know what to do already and just get it! If your knowledge of the Stones begins with "Angie" then get it even SOONER!!!

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Did you know that there are back issues of BLACK TO COMM still waiting to be plucked up and somewhat indecent prices for your educational benefit? Of course not considering the trouble I have moving these albatrosses. Wise up for once in your life, hunh?

BOOK REVIEW! FAUST --- STRETCH OUT TIME 1970-1975 BY ANDY WILSON 

This was "originally published in 2006" and exactly by who I don't know, so I really can't tell you just who exactly put out this Faust history other than this must be one of a million of those "vanity books" that people pay to get thrusted on a public who may or may not know or care about these things in the first place. Whatever, I don't think any of the big deal book publishers would give a flying fanabla about Faust, and I'm also positive that even most of the "fringier" ones could have cared less...but eh, there's a book on 'em out and about and if you're a fan and follower of this group then it might be worth the time and energy to rush out and snatch a copy given the lack of true O-mind stimulation there is in this universe of ours.

Author Andy Wilson does a better than I would have expected job of laying out the whowhatwhenwherewhys and hows of Faustdom, naturally splattered with his usual personal insights and hipster quotes that seem in place because hey, remember how Lester Bangs would preface his articles with choice bits from William Burroughs and Henry Miller? And thankfully the writing's detailed beyond belief, filling in all of those weirdo gaps that left some krautsters scratching their beans for years while tossing at us some even newer mysteries that numbsters like myself never conjured up in our ape-like brains.  Of course the author's own insights and conclusions you may or probably won't care about get popped into the prose, but if you don't like it go and write your own book and see how people like it! they probably won't, and I should know!

Maybe too much time is spent on the Frank Zappa angle and not on more, er, punkier pursuits (though the kraut/punk continuum is clearly established i a way that would satisfy anyone who listened to these Germanic sounds altered through an early-seventies Eddie Flowers perspective) and sometimes the writing can go off on a tangent you might not cozy up to, but if you're satisfied enough with my own wanderings you'll probably enjoy Wilson's own sidesteps in order to relay just what makes Faust so bigtime in the world of kraut. 

Anyhow...a must for all of you out there who used to scour the import bins of the mid/late seventies (and later on Jade Hubertz catalogs)  wishing you had all of the money to afford those foreign luxuries that at times were displayed in record shops alongside bongs, and I really do mean it. 

AGAIN I let you faithful (and not so) readers down with yet another extended break from the once fun grind of cranking these sausages of a blogpost out. This wasn't necessarily due to a bad case of sloth on my part (well...partly), but let's just say that life can sure make things a whole load more agonizing that usual especially at a time when the less stress in one's life the better! 

Now, I've come to expect the variety of sideways turds that I've unfortunately encountered during that bowel movement that I call existence, but as of late the digestive process feels like the cloggy aftermath of one of those all-you-can-eat buffets that I used to go to as a teenbo which really packed on the pounds! You know, the kind of place where the owner eventually steps out and starts giving you dirty looks after your fourth trip but whatever...fate naturally has thrown the usual monkey wrenches into my not-so-soft machine what with the best laid plans of rodents and male human beings going awry and going awry like WILD. It just ain't like I can devote my time to writing in the way that I used to, at least the way that I used to until the earlier part of this decade when it ALL came down. Too bad, but for some reason I think that humanity will be able to survive.

And besides, I just wanted to avoid having anything to do with this thing that gets called gay "pride" (in torn rectums and soiled sheets...wait, I used that description before) month which really does give me the creeps as anyone growing up told to avoid that small house in the woods where the weird guy lives will tell you (mighta told you that one as well). Yeah, I know that with a great number of people out there Gay Pride is becoming about as popular as a garlic ban in Italy what with loads of bigtime industry doners bailing out and such, but what's left is still extremely skanky with nude guys shaking their wee-wee's at little kids and grossout trannies degrading the concept of feminine pulchritude...and if you haven't had enough nose thumbing directed at you like I have all I can say is you must be part of the Karen Quinlan generation!

Sheesh, even the recent NANCY storyline featuring Phil Fumble's dykoid cousin is bad enough (even within the context of a once-excellent strip gone rancid) that I won't even touch my old FRITZI RITZ books due to their tangential connection with a rather decayed here and now! (And as for the AI project below well, that was created long before this current atrocity popped up --- it ain't like I'm going to TOTALLY abandon the beautiful Bushmiller era despite the strip's current lapse in mid-Amerigan fun and jamz!) Boy do I hate the way these modern degenerates take well-loved characters and downright heroes well ingrained into the DNA of midclass values and fun and toss a whole load of LGBTS&M decadence coupled with the usual liberal homilies of the sixties that only Dave Marsh would believe in included if only to defile suburban slob culture and stick it to the rubes! It's like the people who we foolishly thought were "on our side" and friends have finally let their loathing for us be known after years of pent up holding back their undying hatred and boy did they let it flow with a vengeance!

Enough nausea...in closing all I gotta say is that whenever June rolls around anymore I just feel like hiding under my bed, preferably with a razor-sharp butt plug firmly in place just to feel a little more secure... Not like I'm prime meat for these kinds of guys, but you can't let your guard down these days!

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But as far as much better news goes, I gotta wish you all a happy fiftieth anniversary to the United States Bicentennial Celebration which I think a few of you older readers out there might remember. I sure do, and the gaggy flag waving, "Bicentennial Minutes" on CBS and hokey sentiments that were to be found during those days still tend to toss the salad of my stomach much more than a jalapeno-loaded burrito binge. (For some historical content, I spent the morning playing WE'RE ONLY IN IT FOR THE MONEY and my aunt called me a Bolshevik because I didn't go along with all of the Yankee Doodle Foolery that was goin' 'round!)  Still, despite the gollygooshiness of the times those were (at least once in awhile) good days, days when I was becoming aware of the musical world around me and a time when television was perhaps at one of its peaks if you knew when and where to tune in for classy old films, long-loathed by the hip snoots fifties/sixties reruns and naturally some PBS show which might show a bit of bared suckems and belly (not forgetting some much needed scatological humor). Teenage Perversity and Shits in the Night indeed! Of course there were more than just a few things that were downright nightmarish about them mid-seventies, but I prefer to shove them into the back of my mind the same way I try not to think about all of the abuse in life that I've had to endure. And guess what...sometimes those bad memories just STAY there!

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I gotta admit that I am somewhat steamed that I missed the free (courtesy of Elon Musk) streaming of CITIZEN VIGILANTE by just one measly day. Not that I had any great hope for this modern-day DEATH WISH considering that movies for the most part have lost my interest since the days of Harry Langdon, but the hoohah that's been going around about how downright evil the film is what with it offending the sensibilities of more than a few precious petunias out there did pique my interests. Still, what I did see looked somewhat enticing, such as in the opening where some pretty frau gets her throat slashed by a definitely non-Aryan sort and spews blood while the kid playing her son shows that he could use a few more acting lessons given his passive performance. But whatever, CITIZEN VIGILANTE comes off like a better bet than some of the "biggies" that have been coming out lately, such as that bomb of the year Supergirl pic which I would assume has none of the charm of the old comic and is probably "woke" as they say beyond belief. And undoubtedly unreal as well...I mean, how could Supergirl save the world while she's having her period? Oh well, if this were 1961 I could always have waited a few months before CITIZEN VIGILANTE popped up on television.

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Speaking of the boob tube the tee-vee situation has been slipping somewhat. It seems that INSP feels content to run only select episodes of HAVE GUN WILL TRAVEL leaving out some rather tasty entries such as the one with a pre-RIFLEMAN Johnny Crawford as a boy kidnapped by the Indians, something that I've been wanting to watch for a longer than usual time. I gotta give INSP credit for bringing MAVERICK back to the cathode connection, but frankly I find that series rather tame compared with other western television activity of the Golden Age, and besides James Garner never was that big in my fave book of actors. Maybe the infamous series THE WESTERNER will get a much-needed showing, or yet another rarity like Jack Lord's pre-HAWAII FIVE-O series STONEY BURKE which has been in mothballs way too long. Until then I will be checking Youtube for such legendary efforts which may or may not get the ol' adrenaline rushing, but it ain't like I'm going to be holding it in until they do show up, y'know?

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Something to note---RIP Kitty Bruce, a gal who was not only the daughter of the vastly overrated (and once you get down to it quite evil) Lenny but the leader of the Great Mistaque, a politically radical (bassist used to wear a Che t-shirt) country-rock band that played the CBGB circuit from very-late 1975 until about the middle of '76.  Hopefully something by them (photos, recordings...) survives if only to fill them tiny gaps in. Also of note---RIP Clive Davis who really doesn't mean that much in the overall BTC scheme of things either  but seeing his image in rock mags in the mid-seventies chumming it up with Patti Smith sure does bring back memories, perhaps some not so pleasant.

And although his music doesn't quite snuggle into the BLOG TO COMM reason for being, farewell bye-bye and ta-ta to Blood Sweat and Tears vocalist David Clayton Thomas if only for the time he got his ear ripped off by a biker who handed it to him and Clayton threw it in the trash!

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Here's AI Nancy, and how she became Asian I'll never know! The solid wood
"swoosh" was an interesting touch.

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WHO WOULDA THUNK IT DEPT.: I get this message from one-time BLACK TO COMM contributor and all around nice guy Paul McGarry that there was going to be a package that was to be delivered to me last Friday night before nine. Good I think...Paul finally mailed some more goodies my way and I won't have to review the LIVE AT CBGB'S album again! Well, here it is about seven in the evening or so checking my emails and guess what...Paul had sent a missive as to where the heck I am and boy am I confused...until it dawned on me that Paul did not mail the parcel but was (along with his wife) delivering it IN PERSON in order to give me the surprise of my life so great that it possibly could have ended it!  Only instead he went to my mailing address instead of my actual residence and boy was he as flummoxed as I was!!!

Photo of me on the left and Paul on the
right. As you can see, I do not photograph
well.

Next day we do, after some confusion, finally meet up and well, what else can I say other than Paul and his Missus were really down home and nice people, the kind of humans you'd like to have as neighbors as my cyster said even if I do get the impression that Paul would be mowing the yard at six in the morning busy guy that he is. Personable too, and believe it or not but Paul didn't put me down like many of you types out there do either which is something I really do admire in a guy. We talked about a number of things, and what can I say but this was a much more pleasant surprise than had he bombed me into smithereens I'll tell ya!

I guess the reason Paul came down here was to give ma a giant box of not only cassettes but Cee-Dee-Ares which would cost him a fortune to mail these days. (Y'see, Paul is from Canada and with postage, duty rates and additional costs it probably was cheaper to just deliver these directly to me...either that or Paul thinks that someone is going to euthanize him because he has a sore back and wanted to get out of town pronto!)  Paul and his better half could only stay a few minutes but still it was great meeting up with the man after all these years of pen-palmanship! Great meeting you Paul, but next time call ahead to avoid the confusion!!!

***

Not much of what I'd call crucial and rush out to get it is to be found here, but then again this is 2026 so what would an old turd like myself expect! 's funny, but the only freebee thing I got this time was from Brad Kohler, a man who is usually tighter than your mother's butt when it comes to finances! Anyway, have fun.

PARIS 1942 2-CD set (Superior Viaduct Records)

You probably already have the album with the exact same cover, now get the double CD version which really delivers on more of that mid-Amerigan low-fidelity post-Velvet Underground attack that was pretty popular in the under-the-covers music scene, at least until all of those eighties groups drove the entire concept into the amerindie ground. And the fact that Maureen Tucker pounds the drums only makes these records all the more mystical for all of you guys who got your rockist credo from reading NEW YORK ROCKER writeups. Now if someone would finally release the Bloody Virgins.

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Chinas Comidas-COMPLETE STUDIO RECORDINGS '77-'81 LP (Beat Generation Records)

Once touted as Seattle's answer to Patti Smith (some record catalog said that so it has to be true!), you can hear similarities between the two from the rough application of various late-sixties rock moves to even the hardcore reggae homage. Heck, this platter even ends not-so surprisingly with a cover of the Sonics' "Witch" making the NUGGETS connection all the tastier. Still, Chinas is her own gal with a powerful approach and growl to match, and her backup has most all of the same low-fidelity that made all of those rock 'n roll singles that people like myself used to gobble up until the well went dry more worthwhile. Just one of a billion or so seventies flashes that need the good ol' (re)issue treatment, especially now that for all practical purposes rock 'n roll (the good stuff, not that corporate Hall of Fame jive) is long dead and buried.

***

Heldon-ELECTRONIQUE GUERILLA CD (Bureau B Records)

There are a whole load of records that some wanks out there would consider prog rock, and frankly I do like some (but not many) of them. However, I don't consider these particular groups to be part of the "rock music" genre let alone rock 'n roll...far from it...and so I refuse to categorize this music in the same frame and strata that I would say, the Seeds. 

But they are good 'un's.  F'rexample I tend to look at Magma and Soft Machine as being more in the jazzbo vein of sonic distortion, and as for today's subject at hand Heldon, something more as a collective working on "serious" avgarde moves only dressed up in seventies rock style/instrumentation. In fact, I see them as being an effort that come closer to some of the experimental sound hoo-hah that people like Stockhausen have been making for ages on end only with a beat and flash that could have made the famous 9/11 admirer a krautrocker himself.

Synthesized whirrs and moody drones are what's in store...very seventies analog sounding and reminiscent of a whole load of artificial sonic scrabble that I remember growing up with (pure old time flashback goody feelings). But rock 'n roll? Nah , 'cept maybe for the "Le Voyageur" track that originally got a release under the name of  Heldon leader Richard Pinhas' previous group Schizo.

***

Various Artists-NEW MUSIC FOR ELECTRONIC AND RECORDED MEDIA LP (1750 Arch Records)

This collection of electronic sound created by people who claim to be female but don't come right out and brag about it used to show up in New Music Distribution Services catalogs for years on end. Won't debate as to just how much estrogen really went into this thing but it does serve as an interesting sample of what the weaker (hah!) sex can do when put up to the task of creating avgarde music. 

Some of it is standard sinewhiz that's been done over and over while other parts show some sparks of actual thought-out and realized sound patterns (I particularly liked Laurie Spiegel's electronic homage to mid-South pluck). A few others are a downright surprise, like future Novak member Megan Roberts' percussive pulse punk that predated a whole load of future both good and bad. 

A pre-fame Laurie Anderson also shows up and does a halfway-interesting girlish neo-new wave thing that actually reminds me of a cutesy version of something Nurse With Wound would have done without the evil intent. But the track that really interests me is the one composed by Johanna M. Beyer, whose 1938 "Music of the Spheres" recalls "Imaginary Landscape Number One" with a Sci-Fi feel that typifies the wonderment people had with what was "out there in space" at the time. "Spheres" was "realized" here for the first time ever too. Beyer seems like an interesting enough crow (she didn't get into composing until her forties)...gotta do some research on her.

***

George Carlin-TAKES OFFS AND PUT ONS LP (RCA Camden Records)

It's the '72 budget reissue of (I think he's a) comedian George Carlin's '66 album with a new longhair pic of the guy slapped on the cover in order to cash in on Carlin's newfound status as a sock-it-to-'em hippie. Other than the fact that I finally own an album on the RCA Camden label I find no use for this thing other than for an extremely slight snicker that crawled out of my throat during the protest song spoof heard in the WINO AM radio skit (the "Don't Want No War/Don't Want No Job Neither" line...well, it did seem slightly har-de-har-har at the time). With gifts like this, who needs gifts?

***

David Peel and the Lower East Side-SANTA CLAUS -  ROOFTOP JUNKIE LP (Orange Records) 

Still don't know what the big hatred towards David Peel is all about, because I find his records way more exciting than I do most of the newer folk freakazoids who've been running the radical street music game right into the old terra firma. On this, his first album for his own Orange Records, Peel gets back into the acoustic swing of things raging on about everything from Watergate, the Beatles and narco types to Santa's own fixation with a fix. The Lower East Side (this time containing ex-Godz Paul Thornton) do the bang shang a lang just as good in the studio as they did on the streets during their HAVE A MARIJUANA phase. Typically topical stuff for 1973 and still quite fun to listen to these days considering that, frankly, I don't think anyone out there has vied for the "new David Peel" position yet.

***

Captain Beefheart-THE SPOTLIGHT KID (DELUXE EDITION) 2 CD-r set (originally on Rhino/Warner Brothers Records)

Sheesh them crafties at the big labels'll do ANYTHING to get'cha to buy, buy and RE-buy material that's been in your cave since time immemorial! Thankfully I got my copy dubbed and for free so someone else just hadda be the stoop this time.  It's yet another way that these big label types try to eke the shekels from your precious savings, though anyone with a bean for a brain will tell you that in this case parting maybe is not such sweet sorrow.

Most all of you reg'lar readers already have heard THE SPOTLIGHT KID perhaps even since its original release, and undoubtedly a good portion who have still cherish the thing as if it were your favorite dollar bill. Well, pick this Record Store Day double-spinner up if you can and give that another whirl, but also be prepared for an additional disc of bonus tracks filled with numbers you might have heard before but I can tell you that I sure ain't.  Lack of liner notes leave me in the dark as to whether these are way-pre-RADAR STATION outtakes or whatever, and I know that you experts out there can write in and put me to shame like you all like to do!

***

John McLaughlin-DEVOTION CD (Once More Music, Japan)

Got this mini-LP cover import enticed by the thought of a bonus track that had me hoping to high hoot that it was from the same sessions as the album. Unfortunately it ain't but it's good, a leftover from the Graham Bond days that shows that McLaughlin was cookin' with gas even this early in the process perhaps thanks to the fact that opiates and the creative process sometimes do work hand in hand despite of what the recorded works of James Taylor might tell you. Naturally the actual album continues to hold up long after most of its fusion competition petered out into fairyland cha-cha, sounding as heavy and nerve-wrangling as it did way back when music critics actually paid attention to this stuff. I can hear a lot of MX-80 Sound and even a tad bit of Bizarre-era Zappa in this one, not to mention Miles of course 'n maybe even ol' Jimi. If you can hear Return to Forever or Weather Report you might (or better yet oughta)  have your inner ear checked out and while you're at it maybe your cranium too.

***

Just a reminder about all of the other reminders I've been telling you about all these years regarding back issues of BLACK TO COMM that you can obtain in case you're interested in such dreck (as a good portion of my competition would have called it). But it's good dreck, in fact it's MY dreck and like if I can like your dreck you can like mine, or something, or nothing like that. Sheesh, what I have to go through just to get you readers to NOTICE these post-ending come-ons!