Aren't you glad to be livin' in 2021? Not me --- heck, the parade has passed long ago and I didn't even get to participate in it, or get to see much for that matter. In fact, for a good portion of my life I didn't even know that there was a parade out there to enjoy and well, now that I'm in my declining years (which began age six if you ask me --- it's a slow death) all I gotta say is, was it WORTH it? I'll tell you after I get some of those Alan Vega platters that they're plannin' to release o'er the next year or so.

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Should I say anything about the very recent passing of ZZ Top's bass guitarist Dusty Hill? Dunno if I should but I will even though the only Top I liked was this thing I heard on very early 80s FM radio which was a nasty batch of post-psychedelic blare. Well, given the Moving Sidewalks/American Blues roots of ZZ Top (plus the fact that they remembered the Red Krayola as evidenced in a 1976 CREEM article entitled "Whorin' and Scorin' with...") maybe I should have some sorta "affectation" for 'em as George Kennedy woulda said. But eh, when all was said 'n done weren't ZZ Top really just another anti-life/anti-energy rock group for the vast array of dumbbells out there who lacked the once-vital rawness and utter degradation that any real human wants in his music? In other words, a good 180 from the kind of sounds these guys were layin' down in the sixties when Hill and compat Beard at least had the bad taste to dye their moptops blue in homage of their band's moniker??? Not only that, but I heard onna radio today about how Hill used to shop in the local supermarket not to mention gave money to various local charities in his area and like, JUST HOW CUBE CAN YOU GET??? True I'll still be spinnin' the Sidewalks and Blues from here on in but as far as losing a major musical icon goes well, maybe ya shoulda gotten into aluminum siding instead Dusty!

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Here's an article that I found very informative, well-researched and just plain ol' excitin' in that gets to the crux of the matter 'n makes you feel like yer a youth again readin' about it all for the first time. (However, for all its inclusiveness as to the etymology of the punk pre punque term a few references were left out such as Mike Heron's "Warm Heart Pastry" as "metaphysical punk rock" in the pages of JAMZ #5, Hot Scoff Fischer's review of the first Budgie LP in a '72 CREEM [where else?], Dennis "The Menace" Roth's C-60 punk compilation in FUSION and Amon Duul II's CARNIVAL IN BABYLON being described as "Stravinsky Punk", also in CREEM. Go figure!) C'mon, give it a go!

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Oh boy...more Johannis and his Pale Boys!

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Well, here's what you all've been waiting for. Paul gets the gold star for most submission to the cause while Bill clocks in at #2 with a measly one. An' if you don't think I'm grateful to the both of 'em, well people do get the impression that I am a stuck up, self-centered, ingrate kinda person who live in his own special universe and uses others to his own advantage. Well, it sure is better universe'n the one YOU'RE livin' in, and why shouldn't I be doin' what politicians have been doin' for years!

Sonic's Rendezvous Band-CITY SLANG CD-r burn (originally on Mark Aborn Rhythmic Arts, LLC Records)

Can't believe I've spent a good umpteen years on this blog w/o reviewing any Sonic's Rendezvous Band efforts. Too bad for me, because these documents of a world too cool for you still stir that spirit of life-reaffirmation in me like nothing since whippets. Thirteen all-out Detroit rockers that woulda been laid down even if that thing called underground rock didn't rear its pretty little head. Hard enough that it even made Ted Nugent wet his loincloth (I might have read that 'un somewhere so don't sue me) and like, I sure wish 1979 was all 'round as rockin' as this particular effort just happens to be. Eleven-count-'em live efforts sandwiched in between two studio takes of the title track, not countin' the nameless instrumental bonus tacked on at the end.

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Bad Religion-INTO THE UNKNOWN CD-r burn (originally on Epitaph Records)

You know, hearing Bad Religion's just as old and creaky as I am member Brett Gurewitz squeaking out that oh-so-brave proclamation that a real-life heavy doody punk rocker would never support Donald Trump, especially when the erstwhile punque himself takes oh-so-revolutionary sides with just about every woke corporation and mulimegalopolitan business east of Fanablasville, really doesn't do the Bad Religion memory that much good! But eh, he and his group should be credited for hopping onto the Howard Wuelfing canard about every good hardcore band eventually becoming Hawkwind a good two or so years before Wuelfing made that very same claim about Black Flag! 

INTO THE UNKNOWN "eschewed" the El Lay hardcore style right around the time many suburban nil-minds were discovering it via the pages of way too many publications that didn't deserve the notoriety they got, sounding way more like a swinging '71 version of none other than the aforementioned Hawkwind gang with a strong post-Doors El Lay feel that makes me wish this coulda been the ultimate flea market find of 1980.  Surprisingly good straight-ahead rock 'n roll that thankfully had little to do with the more nauseating aspects of phony anarcho-commie MRR hipsturd thought process that seems to be so in vogue these days.

Didja know I bought a whole slew of sealed copies of this 'un real cheap way back when after hearing about the platter's up 'n coming scarcity thinkin' I'd be making a bundle offa 'em? Shows you that I too can lose a buncha money doin' the rock 'n roll speculation game.

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MAYPOLE CD-r burn (originally on Colossus Records)

I remember those ads they used to have about the album on tee-vee alla time. Y'know the ones..."I want my MAYPOLE!"  Oh wait, that was Maypo they were talking about...hee!

Still I gotta say that this Maypole group could get about as lumpy as the cereal did. Not that these guys are wretched in any sense of the meaning, but sheesh there sure ain't a whole lotta real startling thrill chills and aural surprises in this early-seventies hard rock platter like there were in way many other definitely non-hippoid efforts of the day. Kinda comes off like Black Pearl only lacking their kinetic energy or the Stooges had they grew up like their parents wanted 'em to. No bad by any stretch of the imagination but sheesh, this just doesn't get you up and movin' the way alla them Detroit bands had you wantin' to go out and slash your teacher's titties. Still beats Cat Stevens along with Melanie and her li'l bells all hollow.

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The Satelliters-OUTTA HERE!! CD-r burn (originally on Dionysus Records)

I like this sixties retromoosh as much as anyone out there but for me a little sure can go a looooong way. 'n besides now that I have (or have access to) the originals that were so scarce in the seventies and eighties these sixties-inspired efforts just aren't as important to a not-so-young fanabla such as I anymore.  Still, acts like the Satelliters are fine for exorcizing some of those bad musical demons from your system, and given the utter turdburgers that have been released in the name of music these past few decades you might be wise to pick an effort like this up! 

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Eric Dolphy-GOD BLESS THE CHILD/IMPRESSIONS WITH THE JOHN COLTRANE QUARTET/Charles Mingus-SO LONG ERIC CD-r burn

I kinda feel embarrassed to admit that I wouldn't'a even'a knowed about Dolphy if it weren't for Frank Zappa name dropping him in the gatefold sleeve of FREAK OUT not to mention "The Eric Dolphy Memorial Barbeque" offa WEASELS RIPPED MY FLESH! Now that was a track that really made my teenbo wide eyed look even wider back when I heard it oh so long ago and it sure had me emptyin' out my wallet in order to get some more free jazz fun from the main source. But embarrassed I will remain, even though I am positive that many of you reg'lar readers didn't "come" to Dolphy in the exact same way I did!

The solo bass clarinet renditions of "God Bless the Child" remain a definite highlight of Dolphy's career, up there with his sax solo on the first Faubus Tales rendition with Charles Mingus that popped up on Candix. With a number of takes back-to-back you really do get a full meal deal experience as the famed Billie Holliday tune is extrapolated upon to points which wouldn't be reached until those Anthony Braxton solo albums that began cluttering up the jazz bins once his name became hot property. Too bad the kraut tee-vee appearance of him doin' yet another version has been yanked off Youtube, but these recordings are fine enough if you want to exorcize those goody two shoes demons that keep popping up now and then.

Speaking of kraut tee-vee, his sit in with the Coltrane quartet on "Impressions" remains a sturdy height in early-sixties jazz free-form as Dolphy's soprano interweaves with Coltrane's solid sheet of sound. 'n best of all, Ralph Gleason ain't about to ruin the mood with his thankfully by-now long gone smirk.

I'm not sure if "So Long Eric" was taken from a tee-vee appearance as well though if it was ya gotta say that them Europeans really knew how to fill up their airwaves with cool stuff as this. Basically Eric's goodbye to the Mingus group, ya gotta admit that he sure went out on a great note with this bluesy effort that brings back a whole load of previous Mingus tuneage. So swingin' that even white cool cats in them pre-whigger days usedta mention their names in hushed 'n holy tones as if they were in for the cause just as much as the real life blacks they emulated! Well, at least that generation of hipsters was way more on the ball than the one we have today!!!

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Brownsville Station-A NIGHT ON THE TOWN CD-r burn (originally on Big Tree Records)

I remember seein' this 'un in the record bins back in those pre-pubesprout days and never gave it the time o' day. Of course $3.99 was way too much for a guy like myself to splurge on a platter that just might not satisfy my sense of suburban slob thrills and well, that amount of money was a whole lotta kapusta to get hold of back then! Nowadays I think I had saved my moolah well, for A NIGHT ON THE TOWN really doesn't sound as if it woulda been worth the purchase. Sure there's a good Beatles swipe in "Mad For Me" and some neo-Detroit rockers here and there, but overall this Cub Koda effort reminds me of an early-seventies Flamin' Groovies album without the underlying nerve-bend that the Groovies were always able to deliver on. Tough.

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Various Artists-DOWNTOWN IN THE DARLING COTTONFIELDS CD-r burn (Bill Shute)

Wow does Bill put out the corn, and I don't mean likker, on this platter what with the steel band version of "Downtown" and the Fairview High School Fine Arts Dept.'s version of the Turtles megahit "Happy Together"! There's also a whole buncha gals singin' in foreign tongues what sounds like standard pop love songs but could be "Go Home Yankee Trash" for all I know, not to mention some kraut guys singing rocked-up Amerigan folk songs in both German and like us. 

I can just see some jetlagged corporation representative listening to this all being whipped out as he digests his schnitzel at the Treblinka Holiday Inn. Add some song-poems, an early-sixties folkie cash in done by some group who were probably unaware of the communist nature of them songs and you got...yet another Bill burn! I'll betcha wish ya had one!!!

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Maybe I shouldn't'a printed up so many of 'em but gawrsh, what the world really needed back then was  BLACK TO COMM! And considering that the world STILL needs this oft-loathed but crucially important magazine I'm sure glad that I did. Now the rest is up to you, dear prospective reader you!

BOOK REVIEW! THE OXYDOL PREMIUM SERIES (1950) (Gwandanaland Comics) 

By the time I got into my comic book slobsession back in them pre-pubesprout days these kinda premiums had gone the way of feminine hygiene in San Francisco. Which is too bad for me as the latter is for the noses that inhabit that infamous Sodom on the sea. At least I, a good seventy years later, get to re-live the same sorta throb thrills that I'm sure many a ranch house kiddie got readin' these mini comic books way back when, and all in color for one box top and fifteen cents. Yeah I know, my own mother woulda said somethin' along the lines of fifteen cents is too much for such frivolities and best I save it on grade stool supplies. Sheee-yucks! (I know, you thought I was gonna sat "it"!)

For the most part, these reduced-sized comics were mightily entertaining with something that shoulda satisfied most of the comic book fans of the day --- if they weren't into horror, war, sci-fi or just plain ol' dirty comics that is. The Li'l Abner and Daisy Mae books reprint comic stories taken from the Sunday pages and are boff enough Al Capp for those of you who dug the dickens outta him even though he offended your hippie precious petunia feelings way back when. However if I were you I'd avoid any of the Schmoo comics (one of which is part of this series) which totally lack the artwork or genius that was Capp, at least until his peccadillos eventually caught up to him and his entire career did a sad 'n slow fizzle into nada.

The John Wayne comic was surprisingly good, a western with about as keen a surprise ending as one woulda gotten outta any Lone Ranger or Roy Rogers episode of the day.  Didn't feel so hot about the Mighty Mouse one tho, that being a kiddoid floppy ear rabbit saga that few above the age of embryo really could appreciate. Besides, I never did care for the animated cartoons what with those oversexed female mice all dolled up in forties fashions (I never did like forties fashions and the patriotic puerile jingoism of that era and, in retrospect, sure wish that Japan had won...Germany I'm not so sure of because hey, Hitler loved animals and asparagus).

The Archie book had two stories in 'em all done up in the Bob Montana-inspired house style which was cool and unfortunately was replaced by the Dan DeCarlo one which just doesn't hit the g-spot with me. First one's got Archie getting stuck with a blind date who he thinks will be a turdburger only she's a beaut, the second's the one where Mom's sick so Archie and Pop do all her chores with results similar to alla those other housewreckin' sagas. Betcha never hearda dem plots before, pud!

As usual there's not much to chomp on this week. You know the drill as to why...lethargy, apathy, not enough really hotcha platters to keep up my interests, and most of all hardly any free time to indulge in those nowadays infrequent yet  necessary dives into the realm of sound. In other words, alla them things that used to keep my leisure activities from staying too long in the bathroom. Oh well, with the lack of NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC Japanese pearl diver issues on hand maybe I should be limiting my toilet time to doing my necessary doodies, ifyaknowaddamean... Still, I sure could use more of that driving, raving, post-Velvet Underground music (hopefully created during the group's actual lifespan if not for a few measly years afterwards) 'stead of the patented and cookie cutter diarrhea that passes for cutting edge 'n based these sad 'n sorry days.

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Gotta say that there has been some news of worth that's good enough to rouse me from my self-imposed virtual suicide (which I committed ca. 1997 when I realized my life was never gonna happen). For one thing, the Alan Vega series of archived recordings that Sacred Bones is gonna unleash on us is one reason to keep one's bodily fluids up and about. As for the other well...gotta think on that one a bit but I'm sure that there are things out that that should keep any SANE, WELL ADJUSTED SPECIMEN OF A MAN like myself from crawling back under my crib.

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Haven't been discussing much politics on this podium as of late, though at this point in time what with a verifiable drool-cupper in the presidential chair and a spread legged anti-virgin poised to take his job at any time (not to mention a load of hip 'n with it felchophants at the papers and tee-vee tryin' to make it all look oh-so-normal) all I gotta say is --- I really do hope that either Poland or Hungary annex the United States and really soon! Heck, if their troops were bangin' the door just rarin' to come in I'd definitely give 'em all a helpin' hand! In other words as Kenne Highland once sang, "Sieg Heil Mofos --- Amerika First!"

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Seems like Bob Forward's got the  award this week for most contributions to the cause with Bill and Paul following closely by with one each. In fact, I just got a doozy of a package from Paul which makes me very happy, since I know that there's one guy north of here who ain't spendin' his free time burning churches down ('n hey, as far as I'm concerned they just hadda bury 'em TB-riddled Indian kids somewhere or else the place woulda stunk to high heaven 'n the vultures woulda gotten to 'em!) Keep it up guys because if it weren't for you well, it just wouldn't be BLOG TO COMM!

Greg "Stackhouse" Prevost-SONGS FOR THESE TIMES CD (Mean Disposition/Penniman Records, Spain)

The third in probably a long line of Greg Prevost folky/blooze outings that I get the idea would stymie (or even buckwheat) a whole load of his old Chesterfield Kings fans. In fact, didn't Cee-Dee opener "Free as the Wind" show up on some Chesterfield Kings album way back when? Sounds kinda familiar. Acoustic strums featuring (what else but) tracks, some new and most covers, with stunning versions of Love's "A Message to Pretty" and the 13th Floor Elevators' "Splash 1" being the hands down highlights. Worst part of this package : the liner notes from David Fricke which aren't offensive 'r anything, but I still haven't forgiven him for that Von Lmo putdown printed in the pages of a 1981 MELODY MAKER.

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Pete Ubu-390 DEGREES OF SIMULATED SOUND CD-r burn (originally on Rough Trade Records)

Hoo boy, do """""I""""" remember the big to-do when this effort came out! Early Pere Ubu live with a few tracks even featuring the original Laughner-manned version of the group when they were at the top of their form! Between that and the CLE flexi-disc featuring their live rendition of "Pushin' Too Hard" from the same show how could any real rock 'n roll maniac stand to be alive what with alla that hotcha pre-gnu wave (term now PD) rock that reflected the tastes of those who were still stuck in '76 AND WERE MIGHTY DANG PROUD ABOUT IT IN THE FACE OF WHAT THAT SOUND WAS BECOMING!

Forty years later this sounds just as fresh and cuts to the core of your under-the-underground sensibilities as ever. The five-piece version of Ubu had yet to wander off into that happyhappy watered-down version that sounded OK at the time before some elements of cringe made a few of us wanna upchuck it all. For those of you with the early-eighties and onward vision of Ubu in your mind this really'll remind you of just what a hard-edged no nonsense group they could be, firmly entrenched in the mad miasma of late-seventies under-the-underground rock with heavy duty thank you's being sent to the sixties/seventies cusp of rock 'n roll as that maddening mass of vibrations rolls over you like Crocus Behemoth running for the buffet table.

By the way, I noticed this way way back but nobody else seems to have mentioned it as far as I know, but have you heard the obvious similarities between Ubu's "My Dark Ages" and the Red Krayola's "Green Of My Pants"/"Nickle Niceness"?

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Various Artists-EGGHEAD cassette tape

Mix, or as some wisenheimer would say "mixed up" tape from Bob Forward featuring things you wouldn't normally hear in polite company. The recent Anthony Braxton interview on NPR was pretty much what you would expect given the guy's unpredictable nature, though I was kinda shocked to hear what he sounds like today as compared to those spoken word tracks which appeared on his early albums. John Cage's RHENGA  AND APARTMENT HOUSE 1776 bicentennial effort's comparatively cozy when compared to some of his earlier orchestral efforts and even features Jeanne Lee via pre-recorded tape. Following's a Wire show from the mid-eighties when everybody who used to like them didn't anymore (but I find it about as passable as these Wire efforts can get) plus Devo on tee-vee in 1980 long after they became one of those groups for people who wanted to be hip and with it but were terrified of James Chance and Throbbing Gristle.

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Miles Davis-PAUL'S MALL, BOSTON 9/72 CD-r burn

Its an FM radio broadcast featuring early-seventies Miles and crew doing some pretty good raga-y fusion that you can really wrap your nerve nodes around. Good sound and good performance featuring a backup filled with mostly passerby's in the world of jazz...best of all this'll warp you into some really far away sphere that'll make you forget just what a horrible person Davis was!

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THE BEAU BRUMMELS CD-r burn (originally on Warner Brothers)

Dunno why this '75 reunion platter got such hard knocks at the time, for it has a good sorta post-folk laze about it that I doubt anyone was gettin' outta the myriad assortment of post-Byrds platters hittin' the bins. Sure Sal Valentino doesn't sound as young as he used to and there are too many ballads for my tastes, but the music is still driving and the update from sixties folk rock to seventies country pop ain't as rocky as one would expect. There's even a bit of the old Brummels feel here and there and really, I guess any of you who were up and about back then woulda been scourin' the cutout bins of '76 lookin' for a copy of this...I mean, what's a wait of a few months anyway if yer gonna save a good four bucks!

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Captain Beefheart-OSLO '75/CLEAR SPOT cassette tape

This 'un woulda definitely setcha back a good ten bucks or so (hokay, on a premium chrome tape!) had you bought a nth-generation copy from some fanabla way back 1980 way, but here it is fortysome years later an' I'm gettin' a copy for freefreeFREE!!! Given the rate of inflation and other important factors being considered ya woulda thunk it's be worth a good bazillion by now!

Anyhow this cassette's a surprisingly good-sounding (def "A-" using olde tyme grading systems) live show from right around the time when the dinge of those Mercury albums (which I thought were OK but you will beg to differ) had given way to the man as we once knew him. Lotsa classic sixties Beef here too including some rather treacherous recreations from TROUT MASK REPLICA, an album which as you all know is one of those sixties/seventies cusp albums that continue to be as soul-searing as it was when it first came out.

The CLEAR SPOT cuts are mostly backing tracks which may or may not have ended up on the final product. Or so I'm kinda/sorta led to believe...can't be too sure with my album in storage at this point in time. Anyway that's for them real nitty gritty Beefheart fans to tell us lumpen lumps. But whatever, it's sure great revisiting 'em because, as we all know, we need more music like this and less music like that as the years dwindle on.

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Various Artists-PEANUT-BUTTER CHEYENNE BORDER GRITS CD-r burn (Bill Shute)

Another fine muss what with a neat cover of the theme to the infamous tee-vee western CHEYENNE not to mention the usual country and mid-Amerigan local rock singles that never went anywhere but are once again given a chance to make it inna world of instant communication. Highlights include Lester Flatt's "I Can't Tell The Boys From The Girls" which has an even stronger impact here in the days of mix 'n match gender fluidity, Champion Jack Dupree as Meathead Johnson explainin' why he likes 'em old 'n wrinkly and three-count-'em-three whoppin' versions of "Double Shot Of My Baby's Love". The BONANZA Christmas tracks weren't exactly welcome here in July ('n besides after years of thought I've come to the conclusion that this particular series paled next to the fifties/sixties western competition) and I coulda done without Sammy Davis Jr. --- had enough of that guy for about ten lifetimes already to want to give him the time of day ever again.

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You like rock mags? I like rock mags too, as long as they're filled with that hard edged offensive music scribing, the kind you used to find way back inna mid-seventies when everyone was too chemically-induced to really care what sorta snide comments were being directed against "minorities" by the gonz crowd of the day. If you like that sorta chicanery then well, I get the sneakin' suspicion that you'll really like these back issues of BLACK TO COMM that I have been pushin' on ya these past umpteen years. Then again you might not. I just can't judge the overall stupidity of many of you readers especially after reading some of the asinine comments you people tend to leave on this blog.

BOOK REVIEW! BOMB CULTURE BY JEFF NUTTAL, FOREWORD BY IAIN SINCLAIR, AFTERWORD BY MARIA FUSCO (Strange Attractor Press, 2018)

One of those gotta-read-before-I-croak efforts, BOMB CULTURE's the best upfront realdeal put-togethers of just what it was that made that whole mid/late-sixties explosions that spurred the growth of that whole ballawax that used to get labeled as everything from "youth culture" to "the new morality"...ideals that might have seemed heroic enough at the time yet failed dreadfully in true meaning and intent. For Nuttal it all started with the nuclear bomb and it goes on and on deeper and deeper into some crazed vortex I dn't even think Nuttal himself could work his way outta. Let's just say that this sure ain't the usual precious petunia we-are-all-one view of hand-in-hand peacenlove that has been peddled to totally ignorant lumpen suburban slobs for ages that's for sure!

Even if he wasn't front and center for the apocalypse Nuttal would have been the perfect purveyor of the real hard-edged dive into what wasn't as much a youth culture as it was a youth civilization. Total annihilation wasn't just the neurotic musings of namby pambies but the backbone of the new society, one which had the unmitigated audacity to elect William Burroughs and Allen Ginsberg as its king and queen respectively, more or less. (Mebbee throw in Ed Sanders and Tuli Kupferberg as Court Jesters since both seem to be getting much needed publicity within these pages.)  And one which really seemed to put to terms the general mindtwist that created the massive surge against the strained and strict in Merrie Olde England in those post World War II years, making this branch of the "rebellation generation" look like the only logical thing to do even if the whole mess ended up giving rise to dull anarcho punks and the Third World-dominated revenge against the caucazoid imperialists that has overtaken the Isles these past few decades.

Lots here to absorb and decipher (undoubtedly in your own self-righteous fashion), with the ultimate conclusion being something to the effect that maybe those kids who were listening to amped up screeching sonic waves of atonal ecstasy while destroying their braincells on every chemical imaginable had a whole lot more connection with the true reality of it all than anyone would have guessed.

Or maybe not considering how your wild-eyed 1967 acid music purveyor eventually became the seeker of true karmik bless the beasts and children Jesus as lovable marshmallow puff partisan of 1976, but that's definitely for another book.

An important reissue with a forward by Iain Sinclair who's gonna give you some background on what you're gonna read. And Maria Fusco who will tell you about what you already have.

This post might come off like a rush job, and it is one! That's because for once I had a busier than usual week here in real life land and just wasn't able to deliver on alla the BLOG TO COMM goodies that I usually tend to dish out the way San Francisco dishes out little boys with sore behinds. But eh, why should I think up them ol' excuses when it seems like EVERY post I've produced comes off like a slap-dash quickie toss-out that probably would take yer average blogschpieler a good ten minutes to crank out but takes me much longer because...well...I guess I'm just not as with-it and on-the-ball as you sure wish I could be plus I do like to linger on the words I do peck out in order to absorb all their natural goodness.

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But in case you'd like to know, I still am feeling rather grrrrrrr about many facets of my existence, perhaps egged on by the failure of anyone to do anything proper about my not receiving that George Russell CD which the Post Oriface gave to a total stranger as anyone who's read last week's post would know. Sheesh, not even a hearty sorry can be eked outta 'em as if I'd confess to a RRFU such as the one they pulled on me! But anyway, right now I'm playing Russell's OTHELLO BALLET SUITE trying to ease the overall pain of such a grave loss. And although I am enjoying it I naturally am feeling just as miserable as if I hadn't.

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As for the header being either too large or two small in typical ALICE IN WONDERLAND fashion well, I'm sure am feeling curiouser and curiouser about the whys and howcums regarding this mishap while trying to think of how to correct this situation even without the astute help of you reg'lar readers. (As you already know I am computerically ignerent, having given up on any technological upgrading in the brain dept. since at least '78.) Your comments as to help alleviate this situation have been useless as usual, 'cept for Mark Pino's who gave me a hint of what might have happened even though I have no idea as to how I can update the blog's coding language considering just how my technoknowledge has been pretty much stunted these last fortysome years. Anybody out there have some CONSTRUCTIVE advice as to where to go from here? I doubt it since I know you ALL hate me, and come to think of it the feeling is rather mutual.

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Thanks again to Bill and Bob, but not Paul since I didn't get into any of his burns this week. Nice of you to send me those old tapes of yours too Bob --- keep thinking of how much that Beefheart one woulda cost me had I bought a dub from somebody advertising tapes inna pages of TROUSER PRESS back 1980 way 'r somethin'. Don't worry tho, I will get to it probably more later than sooner but get to it I will given my lack of musical stimulation these days.

The Mystery Meat-PROFILES CD-r burn (originally on Shadocks Music)

Here's one that was making somewhat of a hubbub in the smugger than thou obscuro reissue world about twenty years back. I passed on it because I thought with tag like the Mystery Meat they were gonna be some really precocious and pretentious Mothers of Invention wannabes who were tryin' to worm their way into a contract with Bizarre Records bein' all so shocking and current and relevant and all. Turns out that this '68 recording features none of that sorta tomfoolery but some downer-groove garage band rock (the kind Bill Shute likes) which sounds way more teenbo 1966 than up against the wall 1968. Even breaks through to the realms of beauteous uncool with a cover of the Monkees' "She". Great cheese organ mixed with unrequited love vocals and klutzy drumming recorded right smack dab inna middle of Hal's Skate-A-Rama.

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The Fundamentalists-EN SEA cassette (Walls Flowing Records)

Haw, somebody thought it woulda been cute to put Terry Riley's mug onna cover of this 'un as if anything inside would remotely sound like the famed composer's work. Oh well, if you like those distorted guitar rumbling things like the kinda racket that popped up on the second Kraftwerk album you might want to hear this. It's got a whole tape fulla 'em!

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Rick James-STREET SONGS CD-r burn (originally on Gordy Records)

I still can't get the image of that smirkin' James and his wife in court knowin' that he was gonna beat that rape rap outta my mind. Maybe I shouldn't let my personal prejudices color my opinion of the guy's bigtime hit platter so yeah, I will do my best.

You would think that a respected individual such as myself who could find perhaps a shard of funkpunk brashness in "Super Freak" just might cozy up to this and maybe I somehow do. However, altho I don't find any of this early-eighties neo-soul particularly offensive and perhaps entertaining in ways music hasn't been for ages, it just ain't the kinda grog I live my violent fantasies by like I do "Sister Ray" and a variety of keen variations thereof. Might be your cuppa tea but, just like I felt when I was a mere six, this was more or less older kids music that just didn't light me up the way something like, say, "Dirty Water" could.

I will admit that "Super Freak" sounds fairly good in the light of what has since transpired but alla them MTV connotations revile even forty years down the line. And considering how the eighties weren't exactly my favorite time in existence (until the nineties, oughts, teens and twenties that is), the memories are kinda cringe-y.

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THE HOWARD STERN SHOW-GERMAN BROADCASTERS CD-r burn

Yeah I gotta admit that I've loathed Howard Stern for obvious reasons for a much longer time than anyone could imagine, but him cracking them jokes along with his lackeys as a buncha kraut radio broadcasters come a'visitin' midt faces about as stern as Howard's last name had me doin' quite a few har-hars as the usual bad taste nazi jokes went a'flyin'. The Martin Luther King impression really got me rollin on the dashboard as I was drivin' down the highway at 100 mph. I guess I liked this 'un because, for once, I wasn't being the target of ridicule as is wont just about every top snob liberal/lefty b-cast outlet these sad 'n sorry times. Tho what prompted Bob Forward to zoom this 'un my way I'll never know.

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Hession/Wilkinson/Fell-ST. JOHN'S CD-r burn (originally on Ecstatic Peace Records)

It's still heartwarming to know that the spirit of explosive avgarde freeplay manages to remain a driving force in one's life despite the usual conspiracy of silence which surrounds jazz of a non-bowtie nature. Live in Canada (and maybe elsewhere) in 1994, this trio has recorded an effort that I'd place up there with a whole slew of newer-than-new jazz efforts that I've either seen via cybercasts or purchased only to get lost in years of recorded booty. Sax/bass/drums set up with reedman Wilkinson also getting in his fair share of vocalized mumbles and bee-bee-bee-bee's adding to the wonderful creepiness of it all.

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CAMPBELL PLAYHOUSE - THE MURDER OF ROGER ACKROYD BY AGATHA CHRISTIE (November 12, 1939)

A little Orson Welles goes a long way in my life so it wasn't like I was exactly cherishing the thought of listening to this radio play featuring him and a fairly good portion of the Mercury Theater reg'lars don' the same thing only for Campbell's Soup. Nothing that will keep your attention especially if you're the kind of guy who does ten things at once, but I'm sure that if you settle down in front of your player and give this your fullest attention you'll be just as bored as you would be watching this on MASTERPIECE THEATER.  Features noted huffypuff actress Edna May Oliver, future Alfred Alan Napier as the victim, longtime Welles actor and Tragg Ray Collins not to mention Everett Sloane who I liked much better voicing Dick Tracy.

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Various Artists-SHAKE CHOO-CHOO JUICE CD-r burn (Bill Shute)

Startin' this burn off with a Kentucky Fried Chicken commercial (I refuse to use the post-eighties abbreviated KFC form in the same manner I will not refer to programs as SNL or horny politicians as JFK) wasn't exactly a smart move for this diet-conscious fanabla, but this sure is a pretty hot collection of rarities from here and there. A buncha good extremely rare and not-so tracks permeate this plastic with a few actual winners scattered amid the mediocre yet lovable. High-pitched moments include the promotional record for the 1954 Minnesota State Fair, the Misfits' "Hollywood Babylon" single, the Blues Magoos "One By One" and I finally found that Troggs ad for Miller's High Life which only goes to show you that if you got the time Bill's got the Cee-Dee for you to really soak yerself into!

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OK, so maybe you can live without 'em, and I sire wish I could! Yes, I am hoping that some of you readers out there would be more'n anxious to scarf up these BLACK TO COMM back issues not only because you really do need the excellent pseudo-gonz writing that permeates these pages and eyeball the rare photographs and wonderful clip art that adorn most pages, but (mainly) because I sure would like to turn these mags into precious lucre that I need to survive with! And who knows, you might even receive a SURPRISE with your order an' I certainly don't mean an empty parcel Bub! (Mebbe a Von Lmo postcard or some other jetsam cloggin' up the room, or perhaps even a BTC Cee-Dee if yer lucky enough. Yeah, thrills galore.)

COMIC BOOK REVIEW! ALL-NEW GHOSTLY HAUNTS VOLUME 2 NUMBER 54, SEPTEMBER 1977 ISSUE (Charlton Comics)

As anyone who's suffered through a few issues of  THE WITCHING HOUR can tell you, these seventies horror comics can be about as frightening as a kitten playin' with a ball of yarn. And frankly this issue of  ALL-NEW GHOSTLY HAUNTS kinda lives up to the tradition of feh code anti-thrills even though the people involved were trying their durndest to live up to those EC comics that turdburger geeks like you and I were still blabbin' about a good fiftysome years after the fact. Maybe Marvel had a handle on it back in the early-seventies when artists like Jim Steranko were doin' the pencils and Archie Goodwin knew just how to tweak the right nodes even with the CCA breathin' down his neck, but as for the others, ferget it!

Can't blame Charlton fer tryin'. The stories have potential but the resultant moosh just doesn't come through the way you wish it woulda. The first saga has somethin' to do with a guy who falls prey to a gaggle of Satanists and swipes an inverted cross of theirs under circumstances that I still can't seem to fathom. It's all about as cloudy and surreal as the artwork itself can tend to get The second one has to do with an overall failure in life who craves peace and quiet and, after falling to his death ends up on a homey deserted planet all his own. Who does he think he is anyway, a Mormon?

The final saga succeeds perhaps because it was drawn by Steve Ditko in a fashion much looser than his personalist work of the day but loose Ditko is way more preferable to one of those tight Filipino cartoonists that were all the rage back then. Yeah it's the ol'  murder the husband for the loot so the new couple can live easily enough only the dearly departed doesn't seem to be as departed as everyone thought. Or something like that since I don't wanna give the ending away even if you probably could guess after reading the first two pages. 'n altho this ain't classic Ditko the way he was at Marvel in the late-fifties/early-sixties it sure is great seein' this guy's work in any form!

But despite the presence of the venerable SPIDER-MAN co-creator GHOSTLY TALES's just another typical Comics Code dudster that fails to deliver on the kind of throb thrills such a comic would be expected to. However, it would be worth the pittance it might cost you if you just happen across one at the next rummage sale of your choice.

 Well now it's real big 'n outta focus but wha' the hey???

Hey, can anyone tell me why the title has suddenly shrunk to the size of a postage stamp? Didn't even do anything outta the ordinary other'n update the graphic. Any immediate help would be appreciated.

Yup, another rather mundane (even given the general mundaneness of my entire life) week has gone by, and I kinda get the feelin' that a few of you lumpy prole types were just sittin' around the whole time waitin' for this to appear as if it were the highlight of your otherwise dreary existence. Well here it is, but really don't you think you should try macramé?

Yeah, I believe I used that quip in a much earlier post but hey, what in BLOG TO COMM isn't just more of that mish-mosh rehash that I've built an entire "career" on. Still, welcome aboard, especially if you're willing to read a rock 'n roll history written from a suburban slob as opposed to feminist/queer/left-handed herniated Hopi for that matter revisionist standpoint. Sheesh, we've had more'n enough of that ever since the eighties ushered in the age of self-important non binary precious petunia rock "criticism" as if you couldn't tell from the reams of sub-dire musical reporting that's been seen these past fortysome years. 

Feel grateful anyway. After alla those eighties-era hacks have packed it up and vamoosed from the writing game at least I have the courage and wherewithal to keep up this charade of presenting solid neo-gonz rockscreeding they way nature intended! And really, what use are ANY of those nattering nabobs who used to berate me way back when to the cause of rockism these sad and sorry days???

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I wonder what the thief who stole this one
thought after spinnin' it and finding out it
was not Justin Beiber.

Life has been more'n just the proverbial screwed as of late what with phone lines down and frequent internet interruptions, but when you gather all of the indignations and clump 'em into one ball of boogers things can get pretty unbearable. The latest insult to none other'n the turdburger who's typing this out just has to be the downright theft of a Cee-Dee I ordered via the usually reliable internet, a short miserable few weeks ago. And yeah, I was really anxious to listen to the George Russell COMPLETE SMALLTET AND ORCHESTRA RECORDINGS featuring the noted avgarde arranger's earlier efforts but (now get this!) even though the package tracking said that the disque was to have arrived two weeks ago this Monday and was in fact on board the ol' mail truck just rarin' to be delivered, some guy actually went to the local post office and was GIVEN my package for whatever nefarious reasons there may be! Dunno if this was just an honest error and if so why the recipient did not return the thing, but the mail people are putting on the innocent routine as if they actually wanna face up to the fact that they're giving out mail to anyone willy nilly without asking for proper ID or any sorta meaningful credentials! So more or less, it seems that at this time I am out not only one Cee-Dee but the hard-begged moolah it took to buy the thing! Makes me wonder just how much lost mail that was due to come my way was pilfered by people for whatever nefarious reasons they may had had for doing so, and if you think that I'm not the least bit pissed off at what has happened you of course would be wrong again. Well, things like this DO reinforce my long-held beliefs in the true nature of that primitive beast they call human.

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Found out about this one via the Vox Popoli blog who got it from Milo. Thought I'd post it for alla you San Francisco (ex) readers out there who love to lecture me about the moral superiority of your peculiar lifestyle and all of those sad facts you never did have the gumption to face up to. 'n hey, despite what the straight lackeys at the Huffington Post  might say in no way can this be taken as satire especially with  3/4th of the participants being forbidden to be within two thousand feet of any playground, nursery or grade school extant! (Oops, seems that the homos were even able to take down the link that Milo posted which only goes to prove you that maybe "satire" really is something that closes on Saturday night, or in this case Saturday morning. Here's a relevant news story regarding the brouhaha that should help out)

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Got a few freshies here amidst the old clutter of disques that usually permeate these posts. Thanks goes to not only Bill, Paul and Feeding Tube Records but a certain ex-pal who sent me a whole batch of Cee-Dee-Are about twenny years back only I'm gettin' to a good batch of 'em now because well, I am hard up. Too bad you're now incognito you former friend, otherwise I'd like to tell you what a loathsome being you really are, right to your face if that would ever dare happen. And yes, maybe somehow with whatever little is left of my conscience (and dignity) I can forgive, but forgetting is a whole 'nother matter which I never doubt will go away.

Orchid Spangiafora and Glands of External Secretion-COUSCOUS BIZARRE LP (Feeding Tube Records)

Legendary soundscapader OS teams up with fellow creepy music makers Glands of External Secretion for the usual "weird juxtaposition of sounds" (copyright 1980 Anastasia Pantsios) that not only makes for a pretty fun merger of tape cut ups with sonic backdrop but reminds one of the vastly greater efforts in total deconstruction that were found in the fifties/sixties/seventies long before suburban doofs such as myself discovered such things via by-now ancient library books. There's even a funny bent to a lotta these "juxtapositions" where phrases are slipped together to produce meaning that's bound to make you chuckle even as yer pop beats you up for listening to such  aural offal as this. For those of you whose sense of avgarde wonderment stopped around 1979 this one is for you!

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Skyhooks-EGO IS NOT A DIRTY WORD LP (Mercury Records)

If curiosity did indeed kill the cat there'd be a heapin' stinkin' pile of 'em around here. And in related news there's a stinkin' pile of records around here with this mid-seventies effort from some Australian neo-glamsters right smack dab on top of 'em all. Given that true-to-life-and-really-happened story about how their lead singer went out of his way to call Deniz Tek a fascist (well, I know he couldn't have found any greater praise especially in these uber-leftoid times) after a seemingly friendly tete-a-tete I am sorta glad I don't care for this quasi-decadent mimicry one bit. Bargain bin fodder of 1977 becomes retrogarde loathing of 2021.

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Cuby and the Blizzards-SINGLES A'S & B'S 2-CD-r burn set (originally on Major Music Records)

Didn't know that the Blizzards were so prolific what with a good 44 sides to their moniker being presented on these disques. And the early stuff is pretty good in that cheap continental knock off of the English groups sorta way. The later stuff (done by various post-Cuby knockoffs 'n related jetsam) reminds me of the late-sixties horn rock blahs sorta in the Tasavallan Presidentti vein of which the less said the less said. An' that's complete with the David Clayton Thomas growl which had been imitated all through the medium way back in those days when you just couldn't hide from it. Buy this only if you really do want to listen to a band degenerate into pointless moosh right before your very ears.

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Brigid St. John-SONGS FOR THE GENTLE MAN CD-r burn (originally on Dandelion Records, England)

I thought I gave this 'un a listen-to a good fifteensome years back but am not too positive about it. Checked the archives and turned up nada but it sure does sound familiar. Anyhow, dunno about you but when I hear this all I can think of is another Joni Mitchell only with an English stodginess to it 'stead of a Canadian via Laurel Canyon dingbat approach. At least CHELSEA GIRL had a strong decadent appeal which made the glop on that 'un all the more appealing. Hokay, to be really honest 'n upfront about it I'll admit that I kinda like that neo-Beatleish thing that sounds more like a good Kevin Ayers ca, JOY OF A TOY track, but that's about it for this folk slop. For those of you who like Nick Drake yet can't find any Tryptizol this just might suit you dandy. I am not a gentle man, so in no way do I need this.

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The Brood-HITSVILLE CD-r burn (originally on Dionysus Records)

I pretty much slithered away from the eighties garage band "revival" (see how I use parentheses in order to make some brave rockist-oriented moral view you can all marvel at!) once that decade (and the music it championed) crept into areas that really didn't make me feel comfortable. However I gotta admit that I did like this later-on efforts by this particular practitioner of the form not named the Chesterfield Kings. Thankfully there's nothing here that goes out of its way to capture alla that coy and cuteness that some practitioners of the form used to wallow in way back when. Entertaining too!

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Les Sinners-SINERISME CD-r burn (originally on Oldays Records, Japan)

I'm surprised that Paul McGarry burned this one for me because he hates French people! Maybe he left his notions by the wayside due to Les Sinners' more'n on-target Montreal Rock standards which are as top-notch and with-it as the rest of those Quebecois freakouts that made French class a little more exciting 'n "Frere Jacques". Sung in both French and English with some nice moments here/there including a French version of the Who's uber-spiffy "La La La Lies". This Oldays ish even has some rare sides which may or may not be taken from singles, too lazy to find out.

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Various Artists-TONY THE PONY'S LAST TRAIN CD-r burn (Bill Shute)

More mix 'n match oleo this time, and that's good considering the spreading out of interesting old rock 'n roll sides with bits of esoteric goo guaranteed to make one laugh. 

Of the latter's a platter on how to call moose that, with a few interesting twitches here and there coulda been a Monty Python flexi disc as well as one of those Dora Hall vanity spins, this time a kiddoid record guaranteed to make any self-respecting turdler hide under the bed. In between are a dudster speech by broadcaster Dan Smoot not forgetting this durty re-telling of ALICE IN WONDERLAND that's about one step above poo-pee ca-ca. I just hope that wasn't Bill and his dearie doin' the naughty talk! 

Also's got some Beatle cash-ins including two takes on the Tony Sheridan all time hit (for him kinda/sorta) "My Bonnie" and a nice cheapo from the Liverpools that doesn't sound as atrocious as you would have expected it to be at all.

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I know there's something missing in your life. An' it ain't a college degree or three square meals a day either. It's BLACK TO COMM back issues and if you wanna get your fill of 'em there's but one place to go! Unless you count the other ways you can but we won't get into that lest I lose even more money. Just make sure you have plenty of them buckskins packed in your wallet for these and oh yeah, whateer you do you better leave your preconceived control conditioned ideas at the door where they belong.

COMIC BOOK REVIEW! BEETLE BAILEY FEATURING SARGE SNORKEL VOLUME 2, NUMBER 3, JUNE 1974 ISSUE (Charlton Comics)

I guess if Harvey could get away with about ten SAD SACK spinoff titles then Charlton could with a few BEETLE BAILEY ones of their own. An' I can just hear y'all saying that just about every BEETLE BAILEY comic featured Sgt. Snorkel but eh, I guess this particular one featured him just a li'l more 'n usual! 

Actually this one ain't that bad at all. At least the art sticks close to the Mort Walker style unlike some of the comic book variants that came off looking about as pale as the current strip does. Stories ain't that bad either even if most of 'em 'r probably just re-dos of various newspaper strips. Not only that but even though it will take you a good ten minutes to go through the entire issue even if you are a slow reader I gotta say I found the thing rather enjoyable and extremely close to the seventies strip's spirit and overall sway. 

Collecting BEETLE BAILEY comic books was not exactly something that I particularly aspired to during my adlo obsessive days (perhaps because of the iffy quality of many of the stories I came across) but this issue of BEETLE BAILEY FEATURING SARGE SNORKEL wasn't bad a-tall! Future flea market scourings might produce some more of these mags and, if sold at classic 1975 flea market prices, really might do my depression-era wages self a great service in the ol' wallet department!