I guess that if your life is about as vapid as I think it is you're more'n glad to tune into these weekly posts in order to get some much needed visceral pleasure into your lives. Well, happy to see you pard' --- after all it's nicey-nice to know that there are people out there with better'n usual tastes in sound who surely need a change from what has been passing as "rock criticism" or whatever they called it ever since alla them bigtime writers lost their cushy gigs back inna '90s, an', like many horny hubbys whose wives have cut 'em off can tell ya, if you can't get it elsewhere then you'll just hafta get it HERE!
Anyway I've been havin' a rather fairly OK go of it (rebounding somewhat from last week) even though for the life of me I can't see myself ever living the kinda happy, fulfilled love-infested existence I've always wanted. But eh, I guess it really don't matter for I pretty much committed spiritual (spirit of the want of surviving) suicide 'round 1997 way and have been merely walking around like a slightly more animated zombie absorbing myself in music and whatnot because, well, it does help to kill the pain a little. But things are changing with a li'l excitement headin' my way...
Fer one thing, I am scheduled to be gettin', now get this, cataract surgery which definitely is a who the fuck cares thing in your life but a big funtime experience in mine! Sheesh, I went to the eyeball doc not only because I want an excuse to get some new frames (particularly the Faosa "Mexican Medicare" style that was favored by such well-known beings as Buddy Holly, Roy Orbison, Esquival, Fidel Castro and Larry King) but because the lenses on my current cokebottles are all muffed and scratched making my vision pretty scronky. And that's not counting the floaters I've had to contend with o'er the years which sorta come off like a black 'n white psychedelic light show. Turns out that a change of Rx ain't the answer but surgery is which is cool because not only will there probably be less typos on this blog for me to correct after the fact but shee-ucks, I'm kinda lookin' forward to the doctor drillin' into my corneas ripping those old lenses out 'n replacing 'em with some bionic ware! (BTW I'm opting for the old, non-laser approach because insurance won't pay for the up-to-date operation and you all know how cheap I am!) In fact, in order to prep up for my surgery I'm gonna watch UN CHIEN ANDALOU over 'n over in order to get in the mood! Too bad I ain't gettin' the new eyewear, but maybe next time!
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Sad to say that there's not much else going on, but that's the way things have been and will probably continue to be as that wretched curse called existence roll on. I had a rather scathing bit to say regarding me doin' some Sherlockin' tryin' to find out what some people in my darker 'n dark past who gave me nothing but total shit are up to but decided to take it down considering the neo-libelous nature of the piece as if those rumors and their particularly pathetic states in life ain't anything not to celebrate. Not that these particular sows don't deserve any sort of public shaming, but I thought I was coming a little too close to having some legal action taken against me by a certain member of the female species whose last name is extremely close to a famous roast beef sandwich chain's and another dude whose own family moniker is the exact same one as a certain longtime reader of this blog. Yes, people do deserve to reap what they've sown against me, and as O. Watters Neek said in ELLA CINDERS "if revenge is sweet I'm made of candy!" However, I don't think it's worth the agony I might have to endure should one or both of 'em happen to stumble across this particular post as if they ever would given their totally within themselves existences and the plain fact that neither of 'em undoubtedly remember who I am. Yeah I know, bigtime chickening out on my part --- but hey I don't have them deep pockets to ward off any potential legal hassles like I'm sure YOU do!
Unlike Bill Shute, who thinks I should put all of the bitterness in my mind behind me, I still do believe in the concept of gettin' some get back. Maybe I should save that for the likes of a certain sorcerer not to mention a Silicon Valley snoot who somehow had the audacity to call me a hypocrite (for reasons that are extremely unclear as if I never did practice what I preached!) and berate my musical tastes while his are oh-so glorious in comparison! Maybe a coupla San Franciscans who think they are living in some sort of oppressed peoples' paradise because they let their retards shit on the streets should be tossed into the mix as well. And while I'm at it, I do believe in ruining peoples' lives they way they've ruined mine, especially if they deserve to be dragged down in the mud and given a good ol' romper stomper painful enough to prepare them for an eternity in Hell...never used to feel this way before but the actions of the above (and others) has sure driven me to believe that revenge and laughing at the corpses of your enemies is the ONLY way to true inner happiness. 'n sure it's darn near impossible for me to do to them what they did to me, but I can still dream can't I?
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And now, after all these years, we can finally say it. ED ASNER WAS GAY!!!!!!
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Say, can any of you help me identify a certain sixties-vintage Sunday AM religious program I remember seeing as a late-period turdler? I probably have mentioned this in an earlier post but given the lack of response I think I'll try again given the total strangeness of what I did observe during those mush-brained times. It was one of those LAMP UPON MY TOOTSIES type of programs which was obviously about something that went on in the Good Book, this one having this weird stormy-like setting with this weird half-man/half-woman creature who came off kinda weird with its facial expressions, sorta quasi retarded looking if I recall in a strange Bert Lahr-ish kinda fashion. Naturally enough this thing was draped in typical Bible-era rags and walked around kinda spooky like amid the stormy clime. What this show exactly was about has been bugging me for ages but I get the feeling it had something to do with Sodom and Gomorrah because of the half 'n half actor, who is seen dying in the final scene. When I saw LOT IN SODOM years later I was reminded of this 'un, and the two seem rather similar if memory does serve so maybe that was the subject of this 'un all along done nice 'n tasteful for the religious types watching the tube. Any more solid information would be appreciated, but I doubt any of you will dare lift a finger to help me, you selfish people types you!
***I don't have a lovely buncha coconuts but I do got some rather entertaining platters to blab on about. Thanks as usual to Bill and Paul not to mention Thierry and Feeding Tube. Paul's burns of course make up the bulk of these spinners and between those and the requested burns offa youtube he made for me I'm less and less likely to head for the medicine cabinet to concoct my own special Brompton Cocktail had he just brushed me off like I know many of you woulda had I asked for help! Oh yeah, an' I actually bought one of the items reviewed below myself which does tend to show a rather spendthrifty nature of mine, eh?
NOT SO DEEP AS A WELL was a great exposition of sixties folk brought up to date for those of you rock 'n roll types who hate folk music, but like many a good item in my collection I don't play it anymore. Shame on me, and if I toss MA DELYRE into the ol' pile w/o future spinnage double shame, for Gendron's folk strumming and Frenchygal singing is something that really does prove that folk music was much more'n just that stuff the hippoid high school teacher who used to whip out the acoustic guitar and strum some Phil Ochs (not a bad thing mind you but Phil Ochs must suffer for eternity if only for guilt by association) was wont to play.
MA DELYRE has a deep, driving non-kumbayaish intensity to it that seems to have bypassed many of those Freedom Rider snoots and their take on the whole early-sixties "revival" mindset, while Gendron's deep voice sure beats the likes of those late-sixties folk mass hippoid types like Melanie all hollow. Her axe work (usually heard on her lonesome or with rather tasteful accompaniment) doesn't remind you of some 1963 suburban Joanie Phonie wannabe holed up in her bedroom which is good considering how the very same girl is now playing canasta in some old folk's home.
Most songs are sung en Francais, and one of the English language 'un's entitled "I Wonder as I Wander" is actually the noted Christmas tune with secular lyrics if you can believe that! Dunno whether or not the religious one or this particular take was first, but either way it's a pretty deep and moving song that almost makes me with I had a beret and goatee strummin' acoustic ditties in between munching on stale doritos! I said almost, so don't get your hopes up you peace creep you!
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I actually owned this 'un way back in the v. early eighties and tossed it out because I thought it sounded too progressive rock 'r sum'thin along those rather self-bolstering lines. However, for some strange reason I figured on givin' this new vinyl reish a go just to recollect whether or not my original opinions were really as spot on as I thought. Heh, turns out that A RAINBOW IN CURVED AIR sounds way better'n I had originally thunk, sorta like PERSIAN SURGERY DERVISHES with additional percussive and tonal clunk added giving it a cool enough drive to snuggle next my other sixties/seventies jazzy cusp platters a la the Soft Machine. "Poppy Nogood and the Phantom Band" onna flip gets even further into the musically warped vision that these sixties composers could whip up and even try selling on the rock market. After giving this 'un a go after quite a longer time than I could imagine all I gotta say is...boy was I a doofus kid 'r what!
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I know that the only reason this release got the hefty huzzahs when it was released back '85 way was because of the title. After all, had this 'un been called SLAUGHTERED WHITE FARMERS IN SOUTH AFRICA do you think the VILLAGE VOICE woulda given it the time of day? Not on your nellie, because as we all know, some lives out there really are more equal than others.
Other'n that this is a pretty good slice of that newer than new free jazz, the kind that I thought sorta petered out inna late-seventies and lived on only in shards of small enclaves that nobody outside of Dee Pop even knew existed.
The music just appears before your ears rather than rages, with bits of soloing ebbing/flowing in a way that reminds me of the end of the Leroy Jenkins FOR PLAYERS ONLY album before other strains of new free jazz jump into the entire kaboodle. There's no real cohesion other than various pastiches pop up and then fade away for other musical interludes. Sometimes it merges in a way that recalls quite a few later-on seventies vintage AACM albums that I picked up ultra-cheap inna eighties after the major labels decided to concentrate on pure mulch, and if you were one of the many who really went for the likes of Anthony Braxton back when he was the big name inna new thing you'll probably want to hear this 'un badder'n bad!
Even if you go for the "classical" avgarde you should eke some appreciation outta this while those of us who used to hear about this kind of spew in hushed and often scornful tones might feel some li'l tingles of a personal vindication that you were right about your musical tastes all along and EVERYBODY ELSE ON THIS PLANET WHO THOUGHT YOU WERE A CREEP WERE DEAD WRONG!!!!!! Feels good just thinkin' it, eh?
It's got some pretty well-known 'n top notch players here too like Frank Lowe and Thurman Barker along with a buncha the mid-eighties NYC whitey "Downtown" crowd whom I'm sure were really honored to appear on such a socially relevant production as this even if I do get the feeling that all of the black participants woulda preferred their honko asses to be kicked all the way to Skinnyapolis and back.
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Like many of the sixties local rock compilations that came out in the wake of PEBBLES and BOULDERS, TURN TO STONE 2 features what could be deemed the leftovers of the scene, the pickings by acts who were the losers in a scene where ? and the Mysterians were winners as "A. Seltzer" once wrote. Still has some good moaners on here worthy of a Bill Shute burn (personal fave bein' the Mergers' "Unworthy American", a protest track with snarl!) with the best of the batch being an over-the-top "I Love You" by the Worlocks whom I'm sure a few of you have heard once or twice before.
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Sly and Robbie-DUB ROCKERS DELIGHT CD-r burn (originally on Negus Records)
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Since, to my obviously limited knowledge, this post-Fugs aggro didn't exactly put out any rekkids I guess this is all we'll have until one does come out. Of course Tuli Kupferberg knew nada about rock 'n roll but that only makes his efforts all the more interesting --- he wasn't working from any preconceived notions of cool 'n hotcha which makes these post-who cares folkie spews a whole lot more entertaining than some of the turds that have been passing for folk music these past few eons. A selection of various live and elsewhere recordings that range from olde tyme radical hackneyed to downright moving, the highlight for me being a redo of "Dover Beach" offa TENDERNESS JUNCTION. Featuring members of the later-on Fugs as well as someone from the False Prophets, who also didn't know anything about rock 'n roll if their track that fill this disque out is any indication. But that doesn't make their efforts all the more interesting I'll tell ya!
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Somehow starting this platter off with the Castaways seemed like an ace choice given how ignored those guys are a good fiftysome years after "Liar Liar" was topping the charts with pure teenbo pride. And I gotta admit that this Bill "mixdisque" does hold up well not only with a rare Sam the Sham single and H.I.S. ad but some unreleased Tintern Abbey and the Blues Magoos that up the interest quotient quite a bit. Sure, things like harmonica band versions of "Chinatown My Chinatown" and various krauts doin' Amerigan styled music their way an' I don't mean krautrock just don't add up, but the rest is pretty solid and bound to bring a smile to your face and a tap to your toe. Not mine---something like that would take TREMENDOUS effort, like an obit page just brimmin' with the names of everyone on this planet who wronged me, and more for that matter...
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Just a little nudge to get you to pick up like maybe a whole boatload of these BLACK TO COMM back issues that you'll definitely want to read especially considering alla the downright horrid rock writing that you would find these sad 'n sorry days, only rock 'n roll as a subject matter has died out ages ago to the point where like, who cares? But way back when, boy did BLACK TO COMM top 'em all as far as vitriol and downright caustic commenting regarding rock and assorted other forms of youth expression went. Read some and find out for yourself why this mag was the most hated among the prissy progressives not only of the past, but present as well. (Or as the new creed goes, ACT OFFENDED!!!!)
7 comments:
Finally, our years of planning have cum to FRUITion. Stigliano will undergo cataract surgery and our agent will implant the Gay-Chip in his head! He'll wake up with an insatiable desire for tube steak! Ha ha ha ha!
I got news for you.
I hate spunk!
Hey chris cataract surgery is no sweat. The pain in the ass part is putting drops in your eyes for days. My cheeks were well hydrated. Maybe cyster can assist. Get her used to pitching in when that colostomy bag change comes up in your future. Sad to report i saw mo tucker in the trailer for the upcoming v.u. documentary and she looks like miss grundy. I hope her health is o.k.
From what I've heard, when you were around spunk was flyin' all over the place, Ed!
I'll take Chicago or Weather Report or Oregon over Butch Morris. Call me a snob, but I need musicianship. (Chuckle!)
Cheers!
to fagy and intelectuil for me this week.
need some n y dolls and moly hachet !
still best blog ive ever seen
p s kill all the hippys !
disko sux !
What do you think of The Buckinghams?
I think they were good.
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