Sunday, October 01, 2023

Brace yourselves, for here I go taking the time and energy to spout off about my current obsessions in the half-baked hope that someone out there will see this and want to connect with me for whatever reasons they may conjure up in their pea-sized brains. But then again probably not because frankly I could care less about any of you anymore but back to the subject --- ever since I can remember I've been a person who has been a slave to the various fancies, passions and/or obsessions that have passed my psyche, enough to the point where I would bore telephone callers with whatever subject I was deeply engrossed in at the time of the unfortunate ring up. It could have been anything from old television programs to long-forgotten three-wheeled automobiles and now-obscure actors who may have put in an appearance or two at the legendary Educational Films Exchange. Although you might not think that much of it and perhaps even think less about me for it but as far as this particular fanabla was concerned well, these current interests were the blood 'n guts of my otherwise feh-like existence!

This blog continues on with the tradition so-to-speak, and let's just say that if you're the kind of person who just ain't savvy to my downright love for the old, obscure and somewhat SACRED sorta sights and sounds that earwig their way through my soul there might be a much better blog suited to your personal tastes like SEXUAL RESPONSE OF THE ADOLESCENT IBEX or some other keen-o title I could swipe out of any sixty-five-year-old issue of MAD. Otherwise just settle down and get used to it --- it's my life and I can do whatever I want to you in it and if you so dare you can always hang up as many a bored recipient has.
You probably have it already, but if you don't I'm sure there are plenty of issues of FAUX WOOD PANELING #3 available for you to give an eyeballing to (see link on the left and get in touch!). Of course its great, sorta like one of those "personal" genzines of the sixties/seventies with a stream of somethingorother flow and a massive jump from one thing to another like not just from A to B to C but like from A to Q and maybe a sidestep to G and then maybe back to B and C before hitting Z (guess where I lifted that concept from and I'll send you absolutely nothing!). Subjects to be found in this issue --- Bon Scott (s'posedly a Joe Carducci effort), Damo Suzuki, polka, book reviews (including one that was inspired by a post found on this very blog!) and quite a bit on anime ---- well, at least it ain't hentai!

Sad to say tho that I haven't played the FAUX WOOD PANELING ROCKS CD-r that came with this ish yet. It's a doozy of a spinner too with a variety of songs both heard and not by me, something which I get the idea would make for splendid sunny afternoon driving backdrop. Next time I have a splendid sunny afternoon where I'm goin' somewhere this will be on the deck.
This modern day animation had me thinkin' for a minute (OK a whole hour) that it was actually some real deal lost video! Just think how lifelike this is gonna look ten years from now when technology (hopefully) gets into overdrive!

Words can't really express the gratitude that I have for people like Paul McGarry and Robert Forward for sending me these burns of new and not-so recordings that appear in most every one of my "normal" ifyaknowaddamean posts. Considering the hefty cost of purchasing such items especially for a cheapskate such as I these recordings really do take a strain off the ol' pocketbook and helps me divert my dinero to other perhaps not-so-crucial concerns such as taxes, medicine and various other thingies that I personally could do without (blackmail). Bought one or maybe even more (we'll see) items that are up for the ol' scrutiny but let's just say that if it weren't for these fine friends these posts would be just about as long as a Cambodian lifespan.

Special thanx to Forward who keeps sending these Ornette Coleman "boot" burns, an entire turdload at that which is taking me forever to go through. Only able to spin a short portion of these given my rather fractured free time, so I get the feeling that I'll be listening to the final minutes of these during my final minutes.

Alice Cooper-KILLER, EXPANDED VERSION 2-CD set (Warners/Rhino Records)

Sheesh, these bigtime labels really know how to getcha to dig deep into yer pockets for things ya had for eons awlready! However when it come to memeME I better have a GOOD reason to spend my precious pennies for such items that I would otherwise ignore, and with this double duty Alice Cooper spinner I sure got the excuse that I was lookin' for!

Platter #1's the same KILLER we've (presumably) have heard for ages, but although it purports to be a better mix I can't tell the diff. Of course listening on a cheap portable player doesn't always bring out them nuances that hi fi nuts are on the lookout for but eh, at least this new edition's a pretty good enough excuse to listen to it again.

Disque #2's got a Cooper set from the '72 Mar y Sol fest that sounds as if it coulda been a fair contender for an actual live spinner, or at least the bootleg of the year had somebody had the wherewithal to smuggle this 'un out. Still, these live trax don't quite match the originals and the show doesn't kick in at least until the "Dead Babies"/"Killer" climax but wha' th' hey. The early, slowed down (and instrumental) version of "School's Out"'s something that even the casual Cooper follower would splurge the good twennysome-plus bucks this'll cost'cha for.

The big surprise of the album's the ne'er before heard outtakes, with a radically rearranged "You Drive Me Nervous", a horn-less "Under My Wheels" and a "Dead Babies" that ain't that much of a switch from the more famous version, but they stuck in on here anyway and you get extra music so quit complainin'!
The Electric Eels-SPIN AGE BLASTERS CD-r burn (originally on Scat Records)

It's kinda/sorta surprising that McGarry sent me this 'round the same time I got the Alice thingie directly above. I always thought that Alice's "Yeah Yeah Yeah" sounded rather Eels-ish and well, after re-listening to that 'un it's more'n obvious where the Eels got a whole lotta their inspiration from! Talk about good timing on your part Paul!

I believe most of you've already heard these numbers but even if you have you'll still want this. SQ's been upgraded a bit --- about as good as a cheap studio as if that matters to you non-audiophile nuts out there. Nice cover too and eh, maybe there are some new and insightful liner notes that came with this one making a flesh and blood purchase worth my while. Now when's Mr. Griffin gonna release them Summer '76 "Eclectic Eels" rehearsals with Tim Wright on bass guitar 'n even some Adele Bertei???

Might be worth the pennies you're scrimping and saving with in these inflation-laden days because hey, even if you've been in on the legend for decades the Electric Eels are more important than food!

The Dum Dum Boys-NOTHING MEANS NOTHING CD-r burn (originally on Closer Records, France?)

I guess these ain't the New Zealand Dum Dum Boys but a late-eighties French variant who I "might have" heard a long time back. These Dum Dum's are not bad what with their eighties-era take on past punk accomplishment, but they're somewhat pale when compared to the Detroit-inspired blare that was so potent that the NZ band of the same name hadda skedaddle to Australia for its own good. Well, they do play some pretty competent and straight ahead rock 'n roll that reminds me of the (French) Dogs and other local yokels who kept on doin' it high energy in a world that couldn't care less. If you were the kind of person who purchased such European publications as HARTBEAT or RIPPLE you'll definitely go for this 'un.


The Wipers-IS THIS REAL? CD-r burn (originally on Park Avenue Records, then Sub Pop much later on)

(WARNING: a whole load of personalist hatethrash and tearing open of old wounds appears in the following, some of it which might be just too boring and unnecessary to your very existence to withstand! But then again given how I can sus most of you readers out you just might go for it if only out of a morbid curiosity. As many of you know I am a bitter person and I pretty much explain why I happen to be so in the following soul-bear. It might totally turn you off not only to this blog but myself given how I am prone to feel sorry for myself [well, somebody has to!] so let's just say it ain't like I didn't tell ya.

Then again, if I totally delete this review like I tend to do most if not all of my hatescreeds directed at the enemies of myself and this blog well, you don't have to worry about making your way through all this steam-letting. But I personally think it's some of my best writing as of late so I will do my durndest to keep it all intact and, for that matter, unexpurgated. Because frankly, at this stage of my life, I don't give a dingdong how petty and immature I come off!)

Haven't listened to very much Wipers o'er these past thirtysome years. That's because, when you get way deep down into it, I really am whatcha'd call a feeling, sensitive, cry over a broken flower sort of person this world sure could use a whole lot more of. 

Y'see, back 'round '87 way a certain "rock critic" actually used a Wipers review to poke some pretty damning fun at me, and although I usually brushed such things off I couldn't this time since this crit had treated me rather nice just a short time earlier and the 180 sure came off like a hefty gut punch. It did hurt, in the wallet that is since I was one who REALLY hadda scrimp and save to put a mag out on an even less than shoestring budget and I couldn't afford a loss in readership and besides like, this was all happening at a time in my life that wasn't exactly the tippy toppest and in fact was pretty depressing for reasons I won't go into here. And here comes some rich Boston to New York record label "mogul" trying to make underground brownie points by doin' the ol' build up/tear down game with me costing me perhaps half if not more of my potential readership! (I tried making nicey nice with the guy but he [a real snob as I could tell from merely talking to him purposefully mis-reading my reviews because he deep down really is a jerk deserving of death] wouldn't have any part of it perhaps because, once you get down to it, he definitely is of a higher realm and looks down upon lower forms of life such as myself.) Really does hit you hard, in the ol' pocketbook ifyaknowaddamean...

Well, until I either get a whole load of much needed revenge (justice just don't cut it no mo') or have a good laugh at this certain "person"'s inevitable demise I'll try to get them decades old feelings outta the way and enjoy this particular piece of what I'd call an important watermark in rock 'n roll history (no hyperbole about that!). IS THIS REAL is one platter that screeches out the high energy rock 'n roll while spewing out a lotta the same punk unto post-punk (yech!) neo-cliches making them WORK for once. Unlike the Northwest grunge this music had ultimately led to the Wipers mix a whole load of taste in (and leave the stoner outta) their swivel making for a music you can enjoy especially because (at least on the surface) it appears that the musicians DON'T want to wallow in the same pigsty of precocious self-consciousness that many of the groups they've influenced seemed to crave.

Some of them typical eighties hard-thud bass/neo-badass guitar moves can be discerned making IS THIS REAL? a heavy metal monster as much as it is a punk monument. Thanks to the more'n just "obvious" talents of Wipers leader Greg Sage and band a whole load of what could have been instant tossout comes off rather sleek and just what the doctor ordered with regards to music in "that raw state of becoming" as Wayne McGuire once so succinctly put it. Unfettered forcefulness with control which gives that overused "power trio" term the proper rectal kick it needed for years on end. 

The reish comes with some additional goodies that thankfully were not left on the cutting room floor as well as the ALIEN BOY EP which I might have reviewed on this blog way back when but am too lazy to find out for sure. It all stirs up the rock spirit in me (dunno about you) and the plain fact that this platter is jarring enough to remind me of various eighties accomplishment is strong enough to make me wanna dig up my copy of the TRAP SAMPLER with the Wipers sharing some precious vinyl space with locals such as Pell Mell, Drum Bunny and Napalm Beach. Shee-yit, my review of that 'un's what started the whole disgusting mess which turned me off the Wipers for a good many years --- let's hope it don't make me even MORE hate-filled than I already am! 


New Math-DIE TRYING OR OTHER HOT SOUNDS CD-r burn (originally on Propeller Sound Recordings, 2023)

Not being one iota familiar with this group (or if I had been I totally excised 'em from my memory) I approached this one thinking it was gonna be one a those early-eighties styled "gnu wave" cute and precocious efforts that got all the attention at the expense of the more gnarly sounds. For once in my life I'm (more or less) wrong, because I'll admit that this Rochester NY group did a fairly good job with their late-seventies pop-punk pounce that someone like myself never really got "into" but eh, it's there for ya! New Math will appeal to the more flash dress shades 'n badges types that used to proliferate the local hipster cool cat scene a good forty-plus years back and I found it somewhat entertaining myself. Just don't ask me to listen to it again.  


Charles Gayle-UNTO I AM CD (Les Disques VICTO, Canada)

Here's the legendary Gayle solo session recorded in Montreal that sorta, uh, shook up a few of the recent fannage that gathered 'round the late multi-instrumentalist a good thirty or so years back. And not necessarily from the music itself which is shattering enough even for those of you born and bred of the AACM/BAG system of sound deconstruction.

It is an extreme affair to say the least what with Gayle's solo sax and bass clarinet coming off highly reminiscent of those Roscoe Mitchell efforts that ended up on a whole slew of small labels throughout the seventies. More amazing's when Gayle plays drums AND sax simultaneously actually sounding like two separate entities a la INTERSTELLAR SPACE or DUO EXCHANGE ifyoucanbelieveit! An incredible achievement that really knocks one for that oft-used "loop" term, making me wonder if anyone else had come up with the same idea earlier (of course any help'd be appreciated although I double any of you would bother responding). 

Of course the piano track where Gayle gets into his street preacher mode and offends a good portion of his uppercrust fans is the real deal reason to get this, not only because of the free splat piano playing (as far as I know not even Cecil Taylor had gone this far!) but for the impassioned sermonizing regarding all of those hot button morality-based subjects that are bound to "offend". Sheesh, after all of the OFFENDING these precious petunia types have been shoving down decent peoples' throats for what seems like ages don'tcha think that said people should be on the RECEIVING end for once in their sick and shallow lives? I sure do, even though these flowering types think they're too anointed and above us all to have any sort of contrary opine reach their so-tender ears!

A real worthy to have and to hold. Perhaps the pick of the week/month/whatever.


Listen, I can set up some Paypal account or a GoFundMe in order to get some much needed money flowin' my way, but all I ask of you is to buy some back issues of BLACK TO COMM not only for me to get some of the moolah I spent on them back but to get some more moving around space here at the old abode. Whaddaya wan' me t'do anyway, make up some story about my basement getting flooded in order to squeeze the compassion outta you like some soaking rag???

Monday, September 25, 2023


You've already read my review of POPULAR COMICS, one of the many newspaper comic strip reprint titles (known as BORMS --- Books Of Reprinted Material --- in the comic book world) that proliferated from the mid-thirties until about a good two decades more/less later. Well, here's another quite similar comic book, although while POPULAR concentrated on the strips that were being pushed by the Chitown Trib syndicate the ones in POPULAR were part and parcel to Cleveland's NEA Services, a syndicate that I really go for as far as these classic olde tymey strips go. NEA was more than willing to distribute the kind of comics that might have been too cornpone or for that matter even too screwy for the competition, and although the strip scene of the thirties was perhaps at the top of its form the ones that NEA handled had a sort of special appeal that went after the heavy hitting har-hars as well as the quiet rural reminiscences of a world that would slowly turn into something quite different once World War II got into gear.

Front cover's got a Major Hoople drawing that was more'n obviously not delineated by either Gene Ahearn nor any of the artists who continued on OUR BOARDING HOUSE when Ahearn left for greener dollars. Kind of a lousy drawing if I say so myself, but don't fear 'cause the Hoople who appears inside is the bonafide guy (post Ahern since no credit was given or asked for that matter) and the stories presented are pretty top notch and indicative of the happier side of an existence where little things like comic pages meant a real whole lot! A great way for depression-era kids to while away the hours for mere pennies at that, and hey even this far down the line someone with the mental acumen of myself can sure get more enjoyment outta strips like this 'un 'n ALLEY OOP* than I can every shard of what is being churned out as entertainment these days, popular or not. And if that makes me a bad human being then call me Lucifer himself!

Hey, they're not all NEA Services strips, because a few outsiders such as DAN DUNN and a pre-DC (and then Harvey) MUTT AND JEFF show up here. Not only that but there are a few original comics turnin' up in the mix --- Sheldon Mayer's SCRIBBLY, best known for his long tenure at the All-American line which also gave us the Flash, Green Lantern etc., surprisingly enough makes an appearance here. These SCRIBBLYs were actually done up in a Sunday funnies format as well if only to fool the doofs out there into thinking it t'was an actual comic strip as if the single-digit readers out there would care one whit but eh! When Dell's Max Gaines trekked over to DC Mayer went along with him and well, would their comedy line, for what it was, been the same without the likes of him and Bob Oskner?

What makes this particular SCRIBBLY whatcha'd call "noteworthy" is the storyline regarding the boy cartoonist actually meeting his favorite artist, mainly one Ving Parker. I kinda wonder if this particular "Ving" is in actuality Ving Fuller, the cartoonist who was immortalized when he was offhandedly mentioned, in a somewhat negative light at that, in a LI'L ABNER cartoon. Dunno why Al Capp had it in for the guy but sheesh, that curt putdown's probably the only reason anyone would remember the man a good almost ninety years after the fact!

Face it, but some of the strips showin' up just don't have that punch in the psyche zing that made for fun reading even then let alone now. HERKY was a kiddie comic about as funny as Whoopi Goldberg while BOOTS was just another one of those young career-chasing femme strips that was for the (yech!) gurls, unless you were a boy and liked Tijuana Bibles. As far as serious fare, BEN WEBSTER'S DIARY looked about as stiff-figure stilted as Dave Berg and was dryer to boot, and perhaps if they tapered off with the TAILSPIN TOMMYs and CAPTAIN EASYs (both fine comics yet deserving of their own space) they coulda added more personal faves like OUT OUR WAY and OUR BOARDING HOUSE (only two of the latter which appear here, one with topper strip THE NUT BROTHERS lopped off!). Sheesh, there are only a couple SALESMAN SAMs  'n like I sure coulda used a few more of that particularly crazed "screwball" strip myself!

If I had any beef in general to say about THE FUNNIES or BORMs in general is that strips with continuing storylines just don't cut it given that yer gonna come in on the fun and jamz smack inna middle and you hafta wait until the next ish to see how things turn out (and on and on...). Speaking of such strips, didja know that Gaines had to be persuaded to have these strips published in proper order because he thought it would be just fine enough if they were plopped into these comics willy nilly as if any of the kids were gonna notice the difference!

Before I go, I gotta marvel at the Gilbert chemistry set ad that appears on the backside of this 'un! Gee, talk 'bout impending disasters once the kids begged their parents for one of these only for the splish splosh of chemicals to cause grievous harm. Didn't William Burroughs blow off the tip of his pinkie after foolin' 'round with one of these? Well in his case it SERVED HIM RIGHT even if the experience didn't keep him from turning into that sicko you all adore and love.

*it's still running although even I must admit that the steam went out way back, perhaps as early as when the time traveling angle was introduced according to my father. The modern day Sunday version is, now get this, called LITTLE OOP and it features Alley as a child and is drawn in that current cutesy MARVIN/CRABGRASS style that's been the norm for some time. In these strips Oop is seen engaging in supposedly humorous escapades in what looks like a perhaps vain attempt to remain relevant on what's left of the funny pages, flopping miserably in the process. Like NANCY, it is deserving of a quick and somewhat merciful euthanizing. 

Sunday, September 17, 2023



Yeah, I just gotta start this off mentioning the this film the gayest or what? From the fru-fru art deco set to the half-naked effeminate actors with pasties on their bullseyes not forgetting all of the muscular black men who show off a good portion of partially bared cheeks, you kinda wonder whether you're watching a Biblical drama or a Kenneth Anger wet dream. But homo orientation aside well, I gotta say that I was kind of "drawn" into it.

Some call SALOME the first art film ever made but I believe there have been a few avgarde efforts cranked out earlier even if most seemed more concerned with geometric designs and wobbly camerawork. Anyhoo, the story and production kept me glued to the screen, perhaps because the frilly film snob angle wasn't that much of an irritation during those early cinematic days and I don't have to suffer from snobdom by association.

But eh, if you are the kind of person who goes for Art Gnuveau convolutedness maybe you too would enjoy this arthouse extravaganza birthed from the mind of a soon to be locked up Oscar Wilde with sets based on Aubrey Beardsley's very own designs for the original stage presentation. If that ain't loafer light enough for you I don't know what is!

Nazimova naturally chews up the screen with her roaring twenties looks and halfway decent attempts to portray a girl way younger than her fortyish features (distance shots do help somewhat). The over-emotive acting not only from the star but the supporting cast (Nigel De Brulie as the scrawniest John the Baptist [or Jokaanan as he's called here] I've ever seen to those two patented gay porn studs who quiver in fear at the mere thought of Salome gazing upon them) actually do lend a certain campiness to the film, but it at least helps give SALOME a dream-like air and lends a tad bit of dareIsay nobility to the proceedings. 

The plot might seem somewhat twisto-changeo, but the tints and scenery. along with the over-emotive acting, only adds to the overall (now hold on) awe. Of course we all know of the Biblical account (or so I assume) but for the life of me, (spoiler alert as they say) I wonder why Herod ordered Salome's execution after she has Jokaanan beheaded and then falls in love with his bean and regrets her wish? (After all, she "kills the things she loves, loves the things she kills" as the title card says.) Seems rather strange behavior for a movie filled with a load of confusing zigzags, but in many ways I gotta say that the bitch had it comin'. Since I am not whatcha'd call a Biblical scholar maybe someone out there can give a hint!

Watching this I get the same sense of experiencing something that seems somewhat noble and perhaps even holy, the same feeling I got seeing other early cinematic excursions from THE PASSION OF JOAN OF ARC to even the DW Griffith swansong for Biograph, JUDITH OF BETHULIA.  Even some equally renown if even more experimental film efforts such as LOT IN SODOM (I read that the two flicks were double billed in NYC way back when and I couldn't think of a better pairing!) as well as some perhaps unlikely efforts such as INAUGURATION OF THE PLEASURE DOME and RABBIT'S MOON if only for the settings, costumes and ethereal nature which really brings back the mid-teen awe I had for movies at a time when I began to pay attention.

So yeah, if you're a fan of the silent era and want to glom something that might be somewhat different from the usual revival house Chaplin/Keaton fare you might wanna give this legendary film (so legendary that I thought I'd better check it out before I clocked out into eternity) a try. Well, for being as lavender as they come it sure makes for a good change from most all of the in-your-face (and at times in more ways than one!) gay propaganda that's been shoved down our gullets these past thirtysome years.

One interesting aside that I think I should mention if only to give you even more chuckles outta this review and that is well, you know those Gold Dust Twins lookalikes with the piled up wighats and big-pocketed diapers who sporadically appear throughout the film? Well, at the tail end of the film the two can be briefly seen throwing jewels from their pockets at each other for reasons that totally escape me other'n to perhaps signify the folly of riches (I mean, can you think of anything better?). Actually when I first saw the film (and given that the quality ain't exactly state of the art) I thought they were digging into their diapers and throwing feces at each other which certainly gave me the impression that this moom pitcher was being arty way ahead of its time! Of course I'm wondering what the symbolism of THAT rather disgusting act would have been all about but eh, if they were throwing number two all I gotta say is this film just hadda have been the gayest!

And if you'd really like to give SALOME a good eyeballing, I slapped the film directly at the end of this post for your benefit. Turn your own fart-encrusted bedroom into an arty theatre happy in the knowledge that there won't be any guy sitting next to you putting his hand on your knee.

Tuesday, September 12, 2023

I can't really help it, but today I gotta admit that I actually feel --- just slightly miserable! Well, that sure is a come-up from the glum 'n gloom that I feel almost all of the time anymore given the sad state of life and the way people like YOU tend to treat me (break out the world's tiniest violin for that 'un!). Maybe this post will then have an even more lighter and carefree than a maxipad commercial lilt to it which, thankfully, would be a nice respite from the usual piss I love squirting in most of you readers' faces.


Although things 'round here have been quieter'n inside Helen Keller's head there undoubtedly have been a few things that have brightened up the pasture. I've been fortunate enough to have received an entire ton of Cee-Dee-Are burns, unsolicited at that, and frankly it would take at least a dozen of me's to sort through the entire batch of 'em within a decent amount of time! Muchos gracias to the likes of Paul McGarry, Thierry Muller (who keeps me abreast of French rarities although no European Son or Crouille Marteau as of yet!) as well as Robert Forward for these, the latter who has delivered package after package of disques these past few weeks in what must have set him back a big bundle not only in the burns themselves but the postage and handling! 

The envelope with a whole batch of jazzbo platters including about five or so Ornette Coleman recordings labeled "boot" sure looks mighty enticing 'specially to a freer 'n free jazz guy like myself, though at this point in time all I have been able to make my way through was this Anthony Braxton live thing from '75 with Roscoe Mitchell, Richard Teitelbaum and some other doofus (a term I usually use as a friendly dig atcha!) whose name I can't recall. Also copped a first few tracks of the Sun Ra one which starts off with the infamous early '80s paen to what we thought was impending annihilation entitled "Nuclear War" with all of the cussing intact! I've always been surprised by this track what with the repeated obscenities --- I mean Ra has always presented himself as a man of virtue who was glad that people were going to see movies like STAR WARS 'stead of dirty films 'n such 'n I never woulda thought he'd be singing all vulgar like he does here! Sheesh, this 'un is almost as startling as if I had heard Mister Rogers blurt out a string of blasphemies in a fit of rage 'r somethin'!


REST IN PEACE ('n I mean it!) Charles Gayle, the eventually notorious jazz multi-instrumentalist who after years of bubbling way under the free play radar got some well-deserved recognition in the early-nineties and at a time when people like myself were on the lookout for a new avant garde player to rally around. Hey, what's the name of that album where Gayle preaches on about a whole load of moral subjects that really got some of the more, er, forward thinking fans out there mighty uncomfortable? I wanna get that one and drive around town while that 'un's blasting at full volume!

Also r.i.p. jazz bassist Richard Davis, who all of the obits mention played with Van Morrison and Bruce Springsteen but NONE the Creative Construction Company!

IMPORTANT NOTICE! After being scolded (however, the shaming part of it didn't work) regarding my continual reference to female mammary glands (as if there are "male" ones but these days who knows?) as "suckems" I will from now on avoid that particular term. Not only on this blog but private conversation in fact! I'm doing this in order to placate the more upper torso conscious of you out there who find the term particularly crude for one reason or another. From now on they will be referred to as "squeezies" which actually received approval from none other cyster herself.
A Batman slaps Robin meme found on The Good Marty that I can heartedly endorse:

Anyway lotsa good fire music to rant on about so like let's get into it while the gettin's got, or something like that. Personally I think these reviews are strictly of nosedive quality so if you want to skip 'em until next post (or for that matter skip reading anything that was ever written on this blog!) well, I wouldn't blame ya one bit!

Milford Graves with Arthur Doyle and Hugh Glover-CHILDREN OF THE FOREST CD-r burn (originally on Black Editions Archive Records)

This is even fiercer than BABI MUSIC or (if you can imagine) ALABAMA FEELING! The Graves/Doyle/Glover trio once again help stretch those jazz boundaries even more'n my own digestive tract with a maddening roar that (frankly) puts a whole load of then-contemp examples of the new thing to utter shame. Doyle's playing so over the top (about on par with early Frank Lowe) that it's bound to cleanse your soul (that is, if you have one) while Graves clonks out some rhythmic aberrations that were probably banned by ancient witch doctors for being too potent. Glover might seem MIA most of the time but he's there (at least on a good portion of this) adding extra percussion as well as horn toots that seem to punctuate the proceedings to an even more maddening pitch. Believe me, there's not a thin wafer in the entire shebang! You can download and burn the thing or buy it on Cee-Dee, but if I were you I'd get the double LP set and pretend that it's 1980 and you're getting a much anticipated order that you (like me) really scrimped and saved for from the New Music Distribution Service.


Mal Waldron-MAL/2 CD-r burn (originally on Prestige Records)

After givin' the above a spin this un's almost like listening to Guy Lombardo! Mal and crew (including some names you might have heard about like John Coltrane and Jackie McLean) start preparing for the new thing with a hard bop session that might seem rather tame in comparison with the rage to come, but it suits one (or at least just me) rather fine given how moving and alive this is compared with some of the wine 'n schmooze music that's' getting passed off as jazz these sad 'n sorry times. Made for great backdrop to some sunny highway cruising this very afternoon.


Various Artists- WILD MEN RIDE WILD GUITARS --- ROCKABILLY AND CHICKEN BOP VOL. 1 CD-r burn (originally on Sundazed Records)

Thankfully I ain't in one of my fifties rock 'n roll moods or else I would have been getting even more long-windier than usual about this one. However if I were feeling long windy I'd be goin' up and down the ol' backroads about these fifties rollickers that sure set the pace for some real rock-a-boppin' times, the kind Ron Weiser used to rant and rave about in his old ROLLIN' ROCK fanzine. Other'n a few names I copped outta old issues of KICKS these acts are whatcha'd call all new to me, but they sure do fine not only borrowin' heavily from the big time rockers of the day but takin' them ideas and ricochetin' 'em all over the dadburn place! Might be a good 'un to play for those know nada types who keep thinkin' that the fifties music scene was alla that soft croon glop and nothin' more! 


BEATEN BRATS CD-r burn (available for download somewhere online)

They's be one of them new punk rock groups, one from France at that. Thankfully not "punque" but still nothing that really reaches out and touches you like that funny guy in the raincoat who's always lurking around. It admittedly is strange to hear music like this being played this late in the game we call agony, and even if this sounds like many other similar efforts up and about it's still good 'nuff and in no way offensive to your rather stilted tastes. Or mine either so if you're game then go for the danged thing!


Pere Ubu-TROUBLE ON BIG BEAT STREET CD-r burn (originally on Cherry Red Records, England)

I dunno 'bout you, but (I think --- too lazy to check out any earlier reviews to refresh my sieve-like brain) I really haven't been cozying up to Ubu in quite some time. One thing I do remember is being irritated by some of those albums the former Crocus Behemoth had released since the stormy days of DUBHOUSING 'n like, hearing a group that once put out some mighty records going south really did make me question some of my earlier twists and turns in rock (and other) music to the point where I wondered why did I even bother in the first place?

But whaddaya know, but Ubu have redeemed themselves by putting out a platter that --- no doubt about it --- hearkens back to the mad miasma of late-sixties/early-seventies rock 'n roll as noise squall, the same swamp from whence everything from those early Plastic Ono albums and MONSTER MOVIE and FUNHOUSE to CROMAGNON and TROUT MASK REPLICA emerged to make a few much-needed switcheroos in the direction that teenbo music was taking. TROUT MASK REPLICA --- yeah, I can see TROUBLE ON BIG BEAT STREET some sorta mod day equal to the Magic Band crunch of the aforementioned squall back when turds like myself would stumble upon LICK MY DECALS OFF more'n curious about what it was all about in typical scrambled adlo brain format.

And the former Mr. Behemoth can match the ex Mr. Van Vliet in outer realm soul-stretched vocalizing what with his rolling on recitations about meeting up with Howlin' Wolf and Bob Dylan at the local Popeye's! While I'm at it let us welcome Ubu's return to the heavy metal realm with their cover of the Osmonds' classic "Crazy Horses" single. Sheesh, I thought that the Jehovah's Witnesses hated Mormons! 

Hokay, if I hadda say anything negative 'bout it I'd say that the thing was way too long to digest in one sitting. Edited down to about 40 minutes this woulda been a real killer diller deal!

This is thee creepy-crawl rock 'n roll platter of at least this post (if not the entire year?). The kind of thing we all need here in 2023 to resensify our musical obtuseness and maybe stick around hopin' the movie that we call existence doesn't ignite like so much worn nitrate. 

THE IMMORTAL CHARLIE PARKER CD-r burn (originally on Savoy Records)

I know one BTC "associate" who is definitely going to be angry at me for reviewing this, given one of Parker's -- er -- "shortcomings" I'd guess you'd call it. Eh, so what! If I can drive down the highway with Waldron this afternoon I can spend the same evening coaxing myself into beddy bye with these mid-forties Parker sessions featuring some future big names including Miles Davis, Bud Powell, John Lewis and Max Roach getting their jazz bearings in. Like I said many-a-time, this sorta brew isn't exactly the root beer I usually go for but it sure has the nerve-clanging life-reaffirming sway that kinda makes you're glad that you're up and breathing. And there are no gasps here to worry about nosiree!


Various Artists-WILL YOU LOVE ME TOMORROW --- THE GIRL GROUPS OF THE 50's & 60's 2CD-r set (originally on RPM Distribution Records)

Unlike a whole slew of girl group collections out there, WILL YOU LOVE ME TOMORROW mixes a scant bit of hit material with loads of obscurities making this more'n just another collection to sell on local tee-vee. The new to mine ears efforts sounded as if they were good enough to hit it big, while the familiar just reminded me of how potent girl vocal groups were for quite a while, well into (and past) the disco era which seemed to ruin too much as far as AM pop went. It woulda been nice if this compilation trekked its way into the early seventies (other'n with the Flirtations' "Nothing But a Heartache") because hey, I woulda loved to have heard the Rock Flowers' "Number Wonderful" again --- sure remember my cyster hating the thing because it sounded more sixties than early-seventies Cat Stevens relevant. Go figure.


Various Artists-TELEVISION'S GREATEST HITS VOL. 1 CD-r burn (originally on TeeVee Toons Records)

The original material is mostly of echsville sound quality while the re-dos come off even phonier than you. However, if you want a glimpse of what stocking feet plop in front of the tee-vee ranch house living was like for more than a few of us aging guys who never did eschew our fifties/sixties/seventies/(maybe even) eighties suburban slob birthright then look no further.


Sun Ra and Arkestra-THE PARIS TAPES CD-r burn

You worshippers might find this hard to believe, but I can't tell you much if anything  'bout this particular spinner. All I really can say is that it definitely is a live offering with loads of percussion and occasional wind instruments, and that definitely is June Tyson (and maybe John Gilmore) doing a good portion of the warbling. Skips prove this to have been of vinyl origin and given the flat sound I'd surmise this was some old El Saturn release that easily enough can be identified with an internet search. Still it's a Sun Ra recording so what c'n I say other'n it's good enough to absorb into my own solar plexus.


Gerry Bright and the Stokers-YEAH! CD-r burn (originally on Soundflat Records outta England, I think)

Thinking I was gonna be in for a middling rehash of mid-sixties hack, I did go into this 'un with a slight bitta trepidation. Surprisingly that all went away once the laser hit the aluminum, for Gerry Bright etc. is one band that really cranks out the six-oh as they used to say at an extremely high energy level. None of that halfway-there dishout --- this thing pumps with Bright's British Invasion-fashioned singing backed up with some heavy duty organ screech and pounding percussion making for some pretty hectic music spinnin' 'round here! Puts much of the retro sounds heard o'er the past thirtysome (if not more!) attempts at reclaiming past glories in the ol' cloud cover. Should be more'n easier to pick up on the internet --- try Bandcamp.


Nice batch of BLACK TO COMM back issues I got for you here bud. Hope you can take the hint because like, I got friends in New Jersey and we know where your aunt lives (boy are these back issue notifications getting Quinlanesque or what!).

Friday, September 01, 2023


As with PULL DOWN THE SHADES I got this 'un if only for the "fanzine experience" as Brad Kohler so succinctly put it. As far as that fanzine experience goes (or at least went), NEUMUSIK had a whole lot goin' for it from clear enough to read type, knowledgably and thoughtfully written content and a pretty good (maybe even "professional") layout compared with a few of them home project crudzines that were up and about on the market way back when. But for being a rag devoted to the European mail order and import bin realm well...

Tis a good enough settle down and read book true, but compared with some of the electronic/kraut/experimental music mags of the day from EUROCK to FACE OUT I must admit NEUMUSIK pales if only a tad. Now, serious fans of late-seventies specialty shop searching will undoubtedly like NEUMUSIK's coverage of the then-contemporary beyond the avgarde music scene, but them other mags were conceived by rabid rockers who, besides being up and front fans of the "space rock" realm, were born and bred of the same late-sixties/early-seventies soundsquall that set the pace for a good portion of what was decent and worthy of your ears for the next decade or so. After all, it's more'n just plain obvious that EUROCK's Archie Patterson cut his teeth on the Velvets/Stooges axis of musical deconstruction and poured through more'n just a little of the Lester Bangs and Greg Shaw font of musical knowledge, while the guys at FACE OUT could make a clear connection between the works of --- say --- Can and Faust and connect it with the early electronic punk sproutings that were to be found elsewhere on the globe. However, there seems to be somewhat of a staidness to NEUMUSIK which was not so evident in the competition. It might not bother the true blue fans who are in it for the space/prog information and information  only, but for a fanabla like myself well...  I find that there's something that's shallIsay "missing" as far as literary jam kickouts go --- maybe it's just that I like to read about music filtered through a Meltzer or Nick Kent attitude and that credo just didn't suit editor David Elliott one iota. And as we all know, THAT'S HIS OWN BUSINESS!!!

Eh, why should I pick nits over this 'un anyway. NEUMUSIK was an exemplary endeavor covering the music that Elliott loved, and even if he didn't have a "gonz" outlook or spend every other paragraph waxing on about alla our punk rock faveraves and how their vibes resonated in the music at hand he sure did put out a good fanzine that looks and reads swell fortysome years after the fact. Elliott had a mission (covering the various electronic/experimental musings both local and abroad) and he sure did it swell sans the literary cereal filler within the six issues that came out, all unleashed within the span of a rather short three years at that!

If you like the entire concept of fanzines then swell, get it. If you're seeking the same spirit of nose-thumbing under-the-counterculture ravings of a CREEM or DENIM DELINQUENT you'd be best to save your shells. As for me I'm glad I snatched this 'un up even if it doesn't have any of that sainted nose thumbing mayhem or paens to punk glories past to be found within its pages. But like I once said eh! --- can't have everything handed to me on a silver platter y'know.

Sunday, August 13, 2023

And now for the $64,000 this blog or is it not turning into a tiresome diatribe or what??? Once agin yer RIGHT Mr. Einstein, although to be rather forthright about it the thing has been nothing but utter spewsville and for what seems like quite a few ice ages ago at that. If you really wanna face the facts ma'am, BLOG TO COMM has worn out its "usefulness" pretty much in the same way that (at least according to this oft linked article) both Al Capp and Gary Trudeau's comic strip creations, once highly respected and hosanna's all the way to Ames Idaho and back, eventually became hollow shells of their former bigness and went out on a quite sour note. (Well, at least it did in Capp's case since the other strip's still dragging along like a highly fat-laden bowel movement.) 

Well, maybe not just a sour note mind you, but on a perhaps even kinda cringey one, something that's more than obvious once you compare a prime LI'L ABNER with a seventies storyline struggling to retain some relevancy with poor art and abysmal attempts at being up-to-date working against it. (As far as DOONESBURY goes well, was it ever entertaining 'cept to the back-patting sixties radical WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO THE CLASS OF '64/SECAUSUS SEVEN conscientious objector snobs who it's so obvious this strip was custom made for?)

It just might be that my own stupid problem's that I have been doing way too MUCH self-censoring or at least self-editing, excising a whole load of opinions that I'm sure would fly with NOBODY other'n myself 'n perhaps not even that. Now the unbowdlerized me would really give this blog the upkick it most definitely needs, but then again it would most definitely lose me a whole lot more readership ('n eh, why should I care other'n it would cramp up my chances to sell back issues of my crudzine!) not to mention spur on quite a few nabobs out there to toss some rather nasty legal action my way! At this rather late point in that thing I call "living" (hah!) I can do without any additional hassles adding to the misery of just being here. 

Heck, the things I have been writing and almost immediately excising over the past few months make what I pecked out about a certain blogger a good half-year back look rather chummy which might be saying loads more'n even I'd wish would be said!

At least in my own personal book of what's prim and proper, offensiveness is "in" as they used to say way back inna sixties. By that I mean taking on various subject matters and human groupings that have been rather verboten to criticize, or at least they were ever since NATIONAL LAMPOON and the SNL crowd decided to change their whole reason for offensiveness and just take on the more "right wing" and "down home" portion of our society. I believe they did this because of Ronald Reagan, or something like that --- satire sure changed after that guy got into power!  

So diatribe on I will, though I will tread with some caution if only to keep some of them moralistic (hah!) above-it-all sacrosanct types who might tune in off my already gnawed at hindquarters. Maybe in some strange and unforeseen fashion I'll not only return this blog, and even the entire BLACK/BLOG TO COMM brand to its former kinda/sorta "glory" but really let off a whole load of pressure cooker rage that I've held in for the past couple or so decades!  

Kinda like in that scene which opens WHITE HEAT where the novice train robber (the one who gets all of the what for from James Cagney for spilling his name in front of the engineer) gets lobster'd by a well-placed blast of steam (representing the release of years of pent upness on my part) and Cagney gives a gun to the guy's pal telling him to shoot the scalded one because he's his friend! That scene always cracked me up almost as much as the one where Cagney ventilates a would-be assassin in the trunk of a car.

And if the above doesn't win me the "Plod On of the Year" award then maybe the rest of this post will!


As far as extracurricular activities're goin' these days well, there ain't that much time for me to get extracurricular about anything so why bother bringing it up other'n to fill up space and be all self-centered like you'd expect me to be. But even with all of the break out the violins real life hassles I unfortunately have to put up with I do have some opportunities to do a few funtime things, like putting this blog together and eyeballing a little tee-vee whenever the mood hits. Interesting thing is that, for the most part, my tuner is pretty much affixed to the INSP channel which tosses nothing at'cha but old television and moom pitcher westerns from the days when these driven dramas pretty much ruled the prime time schedules (sometimes I will trek on over to FETV for even more westerns or perhaps some old comedy even if it is HAZEL --- sure wish I could drag in Antenna TV for even more classic classy entertainment).

One tee-vee show that I always try to be up and front for are the original GUNSMOKEs, something I will watch repeatedly and still find as much joy in the umpteenth viewing as I did with the first. These early half-hour GUNSMOKEs (known for years by their syndicated MARSHAL DILLON moniker, the one with that powerful late-fifties tensed up theme song that's unfortunately been replaced by the comparative mild original opening) are always a boff way for me end my usually dismal tension-packed days on a not so quite sour note, and in no way can I tell ya just how much I love the earliest episodes of this long-running counter-counterculture television series (as Lester Bangs once wrote  ---  read THROAT CULTURE #2 for the lowdown) that deals with themes that really bowl me over. Y'know, with plots and twists and other interesting developments that fit into my own sense of what makes up this curse that has been put upon all of us called existence --- things like personal loss (even if you never had anything to lose in the first place), life-affecting circumstances beyond one's control, people choosing can or can't over right or wrong (which seems to me the only true possible solution when it comes to how I'd like to handle situations --- then I sometimes come to my senses) and the plain ol' fact that a good portion of people who have walked the face of this earth (self included) are losers, and that mankind is for all intent purposes screwed. 

Having sat repeatedly through these early programs I find 'em all the more meaningful, at least to my own shattered vision of what treachery life has tossed to way too many people who deserved better. (The majority of people I have come across throughout my existence most certainly deserved worse which is why I can't help but laugh when bad things happen to those who have earned their destruction.) And one sure thing I gotta crow about is that James Arness is one person who rightfully so amassed all the hosannas he got for his portrayal of Marshal Matt Dillon given the controlled chaos drive he put into his role. When the situation fit (such as when Dillon came across a bonafeed down and outer) he could be philosophical and understanding in ways I never saw in any figure of authority --- in fact Dillon's even quite tolerant to the point where he doesn't scream his head off at Chester for the boneheaded mistakes the limping one continued to make throughout his tenure on the show! 

Yet at other times Dillon was a downright cruel and even sadistic tough guy, especially when he'd meet up with some amoral cowboy giving the miscreant a well-placed knock-down slap that thrusts him right across the room. Now that's something I sure wish I had the courage and strength to do, especially in this world filled with phony moralists who codge their belief systems with some of the flimsiest shards of self-soothing pseudo-philosophies in order to justify what any sane person would call outright evil. 

Dillon proved your parents and school teachers wrong --- violence did solve a whole lotta problems and, despite what the humanists say, this is a world where some hideous creatures masquerading as human beings did, do and will continue to exist as long as decent people let them. Who can deny that there aren't more than just a few subsputum beings out there deserving of that hard whack across the face, total smack down or bullet that Dillon would deliver when confronting a confirmed badman, not making excuses for the transgressive like way too many of you wonks out there are most liable to do. Sheesh. I'm still stinging from that ending (talkin' the one where Wayne Rogers of M*A*S*H fame is accused of a murder that was actually committed by some sniveling attention grabber) and, when the truth is eventually revealed, Dillon slowly but surely unleashes his anger on the bad boy shaking and throwing him to the ground until that bonafeed jerkoff's cowering in utter fear! 

Not that Dillon has ever been wrong because he did eff up on a few occasions and like bigtime. You ever see the one where he went after murder suspect and future MANNIX star Mike Conners on what seemed like a whole lot more'n just "circumstantial evidence" only to find out that Connors was innocent all along, getting a sly verbal burn from the guy as he rode outta Dodge leaving Dillon looking kinda sheepish? And yes, the bad ones got away a few times though once or twice that thing called karma caught up and caught up pretty good.

's one series that features characters that I can actually empathize with and goshdarn it even feel sorry for especially in this cold dark cyborg age where just about EVERYTHING can go rot for all I care. Any with Strother Martin are worth the repeated viewing --- heck, I gotta admit that I get a lumped up throat every time I see the one where he portrays the brain-addled Dooley who, after getting fatally shot by Dillon when he gets roaring drunk and knifes the guys who set him up for a murder rap, asks the marshal if it's OK if he stops in at the jail for a visit next time he's in Dodge City. John Dehner always did fine on the show, one of my faves being when he played this old guy on the hunt for a wife who ends up falling for Miss Kitty after she defends him from some callous dance hall girls who were poking fun at the inept yet somewhat lovable doof. Speaking of oldsters, the one where this half-crazed longhair who fought with both the army and the Indians gets the entire town worked up with talk of an imminent Pawnee uprising sure does its share of quick-cutting itself, especially when the guy in his failure breaks down crying because he realized that he wasn't part of either the white man nor the Indian's world anymore and he had nothing to look forward to but shame. The culmination strikes pretty hard when it seems as if the only real solution to his dilemma is the "strong medicine" his daughter brings.

'n please, don't get me on the ones with Royal Dano as Obie Tater or comedy great Andy Clyde as this (once again framed) sodbuster who chooses to die by snakebite rather than call out for help because death by rattler was way more preferable to life in prison --- could go on forever about those!

Been watching some of the other old westerns that have been popping up on the cathode as well. Kinda got tired out by all of the RAWHIDEs that have been incessantly "aired" (don't hold up to the repeato eyeballing the way GUNSMOKE does) but WAGON TRAIN remains a gotta see if only because there are a whole lotta those I've yet to glom such as the one featuring Lou Costello that was filmed near the end of his own run. LARAMIE's pretty swell if only for the presence of longtime television reg'lar Robert Fuller as one of those kinda/sorta antihero but not really types who are downright admirable because even though he seems bad he's cool enough to come off good, especially when the badskis always seem to be amongst the spiffier and thus more nauseating ones amongst us. 

'n if anyone from INSP or FETV just happens to be reading this, howzbout some HAVE GUN, WILL TRAVEL or THE RIFLEMAN to freshen up the pot so to speak???

And as life lurches on into vistas that I would prefer to avoid at all costs well, it's sure great to settle down in front of the idjit box watching programs that reflect ideals like an honest appraisal of the human condition and the unmitigated pain of being flung into situations that you really have no control over. Trudge on you must, at least until that bullet finally gets you. 

But hey, I can't explain anything like concepts of morality, duty, self-respect and what's right and wrong to any of your put on pricks out there now, can I? Maybe a good sitting down for an evening of classic, hard-edged westerns such as the early GUNSMOKEs'll teach a few of you a thing or two about not only what entertainment entailed to people who were way superior to you but what a drama that reflects the sad reality of being really is. In all honesty I doubt you'd watch it anyway, just like I wouldn't read homosexual pornography as one wonk suggested I should do in order to "understand" the whys and wherefores of that wonderful and wholesome ideology otherwise known as gay shitsex culture. You don't have to read porn to know just how messed things are anymore --- real life already does enough of that.


Wowzer discovery of the week's just gotta be finding out about this definitely unknown in the U.S. of Whoa entity entitled JUCIKA. Twas a Hungarian comic strip done up by some dirty maybe not-so-old man who went under the name Pusztai Pal, and it appeared in some bohunk humor mag called LUDAS MATYI which I believe loosely translates into Goulash Balls although my Berlitz might just be off a li'l bit. 

Embarrassingly enough I knew nada about JUCIKA until happening upon her twitter page but a few mere days ago. 'n for a comic that ran from '57 until '70 its surprisingly sexy (but not dirty or porno) for whatcha'd think the East Bloc powers would permit. I guess standards of decency over there were a whole lot more lax'n they were over here and although we were all the better off for it (hah!) at least the Hungarians got a li'l bit of escapism during them days of Eastern Bloc rule. Well, one thing is that I'm sure that the eye-popping illustrations involving my new heroine that pop up here were motivating enough to get a few boys over there to beg their parents for the luxury of a door lock on the bathroom, ifyaknowaddamean...

What clock rocker wouldn't cozy up to a strip 'bout a young brunette who gets into a whole load of wordless adventures that much of the time have her in various stages of undress and fighting off the advances of Peeping Toms and leering co-workers? And sure this ain't no LULU AND LEANDER but then again this ain't the standard girly mag comic taking the standard run of the mill joke and making it more obvious with a tits and ass outlook t'boot! JUCIKA's a nice fun way to spend a few seconds in order to get a chortle, and although you probably will not be laughing your hide off at least you'll like what you see just like you do when reading an old FERD'NAND or NANCY that connects you to your earliest memories giving your life some sorta constancy.

Yeah the art can get a bit into the same sorta plain-ness that one would find in the illustrations found in a mid-sixties issue of MECHANICS ILLUSTRATED (thinkin' Roy Doty but not the inspired plain-ness of Marvin Townsend) but  JUCIKA, especially after Pal's pen improved, was a rather good on the eyes cartoon that would have had some mighty international appeal had the Cold War been just a tad warmer. 

The sunbathing and cleavage gags usually hit the spot even if some help might be needed in giving us at least a little insight into sixties Hungary as well as what them words that appear on signs actually mean (sometimes the Twitter comments are a tad insightful).  Sheesh, JUCIKA is probably the only pantomime comic strip that needs a translator! Of course, with the nice artwork and the sly gags who's gonna really crybaby about it one iota unless one's part of the stuck up feminist/pussy whip crowd that seems to be wielding a whole load of power here in what I still like to call the "Boring Twenties"! 

Check the link onna left, and although I wouldn't exactly say that JUCIKA's watcha'd call "safe for work" it might be worth getting fired for if only to tick off your "Affirmative Action" female superior once she gets an eyefulla what you're really doing 'stead of your job!

By the way, I actually ordered the book containing the earliest of strips "translated into English" and if it ever arrives I'll give you the complete and undoubtedly sexist lowdown on it.

I dunno (or care) what you think, but I get the sneakin' suspicion (like a whole slew of pundits I've been coming across) that all of the indictments and trials that Donald Trump is and will be going through (all purely political moves which is fine by me because the precedent has been set for the likes of Trump et. al. to use them same rules against their enemies once the mode of the music changes) are going to boomerang bigtime making the whole idea of burying him for good yet another one of those pipe dreams some of you more altruistic jerks tend to go through. Here's hoping Trump does come out of it intact enough to rule again in '25 (unless they abolish Article Two Section One and John Derbyshire decides to go for it), though I sure hope he doesn't make the same rather humongous mistakes he did the first go 'round and hire all those neocons and bubble-headed establishment types who were either political retards or slimy backstabbers (something that I sure know about firsthand)! 

But then, until the fateful day when the real revolution's won and all of the badskis who've ruined this country for the past 100 or so years are properly "dispatched", I can only hope that either Hungary or Poland invades the USA and the likes of Viktor Orban (wuz gonna say Meloni but she's too refugee happy for my tastes) is firmly taking care of biz. At this stage of the game an annexation is probably the only thing that will at least help delay the huge scream mankind will bellow once it's all over, at least by a few years or so.

Tis a nice assortment of goodies I have on hand today, some care of Robert Forward (who also sent me a copy of the Nihilist Spasm Band's NO RECORD album oblivious to the honest to goodness fact that I already reviewed that 'un a few years back --- shame on ya fer not paying attention and also shame on ya for sending me that irksome cringefest of a Lydia Lunch disc!), others via Paul McGarry (whose own romper room kinda reminds me of them old record stores I loved pouring through a long time ago), as well as two from P.D. Fadensonnen who shuffled 'em off back Christmas way but I only found 'em now amidst the rubble that just seems to be getting higher and higher. Future cleaning endeavors might find more long-lost gems, but then again maybe not.

John Coltrane with Eric Dolphy-EVENINGS AT THE VILLAGE GATE CD-r burn (originally on Impulse Records)

Never even knew this '61 live show had been recently unleashed so thanks be to Mr. Forward for making up for that Lydia Lunch fiasco and doin' a li'l enlightening for the benefit of my own grey room. Coltrane is, howshallIsay, Coltrane enough for me (though I kinda feel queasy inside liking his music knowing that above-it-alls like Grace Slick and Jim Morrison also did) while Dolphy adds more than the necessary accents 'n other musical descriptors with his flute and bass clarinet, making me wonder if that bump on the head was actually caused due to him being such a genius that his grey matter just hadda expand

If previous spins of such notables as "Impressions" and "Africa" sent tingles through your musical psyche these new listens will only add to that long-standing love you have for the sixties new thing. Glad Mr. Forward only sent me a copy of the inner/outer cover with this, 'cause thankfully I will not have to read Branford Marsalis' liner notes.


Various Artists-1960s PSYCHEDELIC RADIO COMMERCIALS CD-r burn (originally on Rock Beat Records)

Another one of them collections of old teenbo-oriented radio commercials from the days when being a high stooler really meant something! Nothing here but loads of radio ads, some that were bound to get your folks switching the station what with the heavy concentration on the more, er, lysergic aspects of the quest being presented to a buncha mid-teens who didn't know any better. 

There's a whole passel of goodies here from the infamous Jefferson Airplane Levis ad (and in case you forgot, I'd sure love to hear the one the Flamin' Groovies submitted) to the Linda Ronstadt/Frank Zappa Remington Electric Razor collab (best thing ol' reconstructed nostril gal ever did). Of course who could forget such legendary commercials as the Troggs for Miller Beer, Stones for Rice Krispies, Happenings, Cream's Falstaff ad, Pete Townshend for the USAF etc. and so forth! You even get some ads for teensploitation flix and local hangouts, the kind your parents would never let you go to but it was fun to hear these ads anyway while you were padlocked in your room. 

The Teenage/Industrial Complex was producing some mighty fine commercials during the sixties unlike it would only a few sick years later when alla that "Peace Train" and BLESS THE BEASTS AND CHILDREN shit set the pace for the reams of world saver yammering we hafta put up with today. And as for alla you people who were fortunate enough live through it all well, goody good good for you!


The Vibrators with Chris Spedding-MARS CASINO CD-r burn (originally on Cleopatra Records)

This is the return meeting of Spedding and the Vibrators, two entities that have seen better days well over forty years ago but I don't think that the aging audience this platter was made for minds one bit. There ain't much here that I would say's outta the ordinary or life-reaffirming, but for what it is it's a fairly standard and somewhat entertaining rock 'n roll recording that sounds much better'n 99.999...% of the drek that has passed for teenage music these past fiftysome years. Only track to really give me the stand up and notice treatment: the dirge-y neo folk rocker "Passing of Days".


Ruby and the Rednecks-LIVE AGAIN! AT CBGB'S CD (Pu Pu Platter Records)

Howcum that Ruby and the Rednecks never released a record during the seventies and then as soon as the centuries switched she not only put out one but two (maybe even more!) platters that really woulda had some sorta impact way back when! Well fer one thing this live set sure woulda sounded swell had it only made its way to our turntables back 1976 way! Lively, rollicking and everything that we thought that glam glitter punkism was s'posed to sound like, this mid-oughts effort really did bring back the better moments of seventies rock 'n roll at its finest and proved that some of them old timey types thankfully still had it all stored up in their amphetamine-drenched veins. 

Ruby's a great frontgal. The lady really knows how to work up an audience with some snatty between-song repartee which works its way into some surprisingly straight-ahead rock 'n roll that only sounds all the better given the definitely anti rock climate we've had to suffer through ever since. Now Ruby's got a voice that some of you might need getting used to, but then again if you're a fan of Annisette like moi you should like her warbling quite a whole lot. 

The music recalls not only the Dolls (in fact "Lonestar Queen" gets worked out here!) but a good portion of the better portion of the punk pre "punque" groups who were lumping on a whole load of rockist ideals closer to the Lenny Kaye than Robert Christgau credo. If you were one who drooled over those seventies groups that liked to dip their pinkies into the font of them sixties outta nowhere hits you'll wish that this 'un was like the latest Bomp! release to snuggle next to those Iggy and Groovies spinners that helped mold your sense of musical appreciation.

Not only all that but Ruby really proves herself a Little Miss Dynamite with her entire front and centerness for mere being that is so forceful and energy personified that she makes Janis sound like a boozed up floozie who thought she was headin' for the local lesbian bar but she was so outta it she was actually at a church bingo!

If you've seen alla them Ruby videos on Youtube and would like even more, then try snatching this pretty inexpensive (when you can find it!) spinner up. It would be worth your while and hey, have I ever steered any of you wrong other'n on purpose???


Peter James Taylor-SELECTED WORKS CD-r burn (can't find a label or even any direct reference to this 'un a-tall!)

Good thing this guy has the first name "Peter" or else I woulda thought this to've been a recording by some well-known catatonic "sensitive junkie" who managed to make it out of the seventies alive, unfortunately that is. But nod out notions aside there's not much to go by on the web regarding this British composer who (as the liner notes say) works in the same guitar realm as a number of eighties-vintage experimental composers who also worked with multi-layered guitar play, most obviously Glenn Branca and Rhys Chatham. 

Because of the close proximities I wouldn't say there was anything that awe-inspiring special about Taylor's work that would radically differentiate it from the likes of Branca or Chatham, but it sure done made for a fine listening sit down if you're prone to that sort of heavily rhythmic electronic experimental guitar sound. Fave of the bunch --- track #4 "Stolen Constanance" which is almost indistinguishable from those Remko Scha self-generating sculpture works that just got rid of the players and let chance take its electrifying course!


Gram Parsons with the Flying Burrito Brothers-ARCHIVE VOL. 1, LIVE AT THE AVALON BALLROOM 1969 2 CD-r set burn (originally on Amoeba Records)

Surprisingly rockin' live album with not only some inspiring for the times non-1969-styled rockers but that C&W twang that I get the feeling really offended them fans who hated the mop top brigade. Probably thought that they were being made fun of like my mother did with alla that "Winchester Cathedral"/"Dream a Little Dream of Me" yowzah stuff. 

This late-sixties countrified Byrds 'n related music never really hit me where the musical appreciation counts (perhaps I associated it with alla that Cocaine Karma Eagles/Linda/Laurel Canyon denim and shaggy whole wheat music that ROLLING STONE banked their buckskins on), but when this effort charges on all rock 'n roll cylinders it sure comes off as a pleasant respite from alla that hippoid jive that helped ruin an honest and true-to-teenbo form musical genre and for good at that!

So I guess that sixties rock 'n roll energies did linger on a whole lot longer than I would have thought. Good enough that it makes me kinda ashamed that I ignored the Burritos thinking they were nothing but Eagles Mark Two for a really hefty portion of my existence.


Albert King and Stevie Ray Vaughn-IN SESSION CD-r burn (originally on Stax Records)

Like with reggae, it ain't like I hate most of the more modern renditions of the blues that I hear but, it just ain't like I would wanna particularly listen to any of it on them cold winter nights with a nice book and some hot toddy. Besides, I always considered Stevie Ray Vaughn one of them obnoxious white guy bluesers from the eighties that the tough working class leather beretsters went for with a passion at the expense of something more gritty and therefore palatable, like the really early backwoods one-string guitar variety of the form. 

After listening to this I get the feeling that Vaughn was playing with King only to get some of those extra blues brownie points to build up his credo the same way a few misguided souls believed Thurston Moore did the exact same thing playing with various free guys across the avant garde spectrum. But for those of you who still do have a shard of curiosity --- to sorta misquote Lou Costello, it's there for ya!


Jair-Rohm Parker Wells Trio-BROTHERLY LOVE IN PHILADELPHIA CD-r burn (originally on Ayler Records, Sweden)

Former Machine Gun bass guitarist Wells brings his instrument to this trio giving the standard sax/bass/drums lineup a pretty moving groove that works its way into funk realms thanks to the electronic ka-boomba. Not that there's anything here to distinguish itself from the many similar freeplay excursions that have been issued since day uno, but for being a fairly recent (2008) effort that certainly ain't of the tux 'n tails jazz variety well... I'd still tell ya to give it a whirl because when music like this gets into the proper frame of o-mind there's no stopping it from boring its way directly into your head. If only they dismissed with the sax player's free verse (let's just say he ain't no Archie Shepp) this woulda been given a few more stars! This 'un's definitely worth whatever effort you can put into getting a free burn off the internet.


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