Sunday, January 29, 2023

I GUESS THINGS AREN'T AS QUITE QUACKED UP AS THEY'RE SUPPOSED TO BE least as far as getting these bigger'n big "regular" posts out. As usual, it 's a combination of time, energy, lack of brain stimulation and JUST PLAIN NOT CARING about doin' any of these posts inna first place that's keeping me from crankin' 'em out like sausages like I used to do. But in the end it's like so what! --- really, does writing about long-gone remnants of mid/late-twentieth-century teenbo "culture" amount to what you would call a hill of beans difference here in the jaded beyond belief (and I've been jaded a whole long time) twenties??? Who in their right mind would want to read anybody's opines re. the 1964-1981 underground swell in cacophonous sound and scribing" Who cares? Fortunately enough I've never been in a "right mind" which is why I created the above headline as a half-hearted and downright lame excuse to slip in a picture of Nansy Duck in order to give this post some sort of snide fifties satire-inspired cheerfulness.

But bitchiness aside it's been a pretty good few weeks between posts here at BTC HQ. Sure there's more work to be done here than there is at Boy's Ranch, but when I get some moments to kick up the heels, boy do I try to make my time more impactful than it would be had I just let my natural inclinations get into gear and lump out in front of the tee-vee. And sometimes I just work on the blog because, well sometimes the urge to write about things nobody in their right mind would care to read about just OOZES outta me like pus from the pores of a well-squeezed nose!

Anyhow I gotta admit that I do feel kinda peaceful here in my farted up boudoir as I type this Sunday afternoon. With the overcast skies and just plain wintertime dankness I feel as if I'm fifteen or so again and it's one of those days off from school (either due to snow or some teacher in-service day) where I had nothing to do but indulge myself via the boob tube and watch those fifteen-minute educational programs like INSIDE OUT and DEMONSTRATIONS IN PHYSICS WITH PROFESSOR JULIUS SUMNER MILLER while occasionally sneaking off to the kitchen for a piece of cheese and bopping Sam onna nose if he came by sniffin' 'round as usual. Oddly enough, I find those moments of lazing about while watching the tee-vee some of the happiest of my teenbo years, other'n those times when I had a clandestine copy of some NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC hula girl issue and a lock on the bathroom door that was in fine working order! I'll bet yer just as tired of these teenbo jagoff references as I am, eh?

Anyhoo I think we've got another winner of a post on our hands here, something which I'm sure you'll beg to differ with and might even tell me so via the comment box. Yeah, right... Just remember, my eyeballs are as wonky as ever so if something doesn't seem quite right don't debase yerself by ragging on the handicapped!


NEEDED! A copy of the article on rock fanzines by Greg Shaw that ran in ROLLING STONE magazine, December 10, 1970. I'm sure someone out there can direct me to where i can find it via this web of ours, or even outta the goodness of your heart send me a copy???


DRINK OF THE WEEK!: dump a few scoops (or more) of Cherry Vanilla ice cream into a huge glass or one of those plastic tumblers you get at the 7-11, the kind that I keep for drinks such as this. Add some seltzer and you get this concoction which balances the sparkly plainness of the seltzer with the sweetness of the ice cream! Really good and a switch from the same old as well.


Read THIS, which reminds me of what happened to alla those once-straight-headed under-the-underground types way back inna eighties who smirked at the whole socio-political neo-hippie radicalization going on at the time (unlike me) and who have since 180'd into the exact same soft and mooshy rad types they once railed against (unlike me). It sums it up way better'n I ever could as to why I hate you.


Dunno about you, but I think this is the funniest thing I've seen since ILSA, SHE WOLF OF THE SS! Kinda makes me wanna dig out that old SNL episode with Cook and Moore hosting where Garrett Morris sings the now-infamous "I'm Gonna Buy Me a Shotgun and Kill Me All the Whiteys I See"!

Before we get to the crux of it all, here's a rundown regarding some current tuneage that have been filling my ears (and whatever's left of my brain) these past few:

Xhol Caravan-"Raise Up High" (from ELECTRIP)-The album tends towards a decent Mothers/Canterbury mode as those of you who have read my ELECTRIP review would know, but this vocal track which closes the album makes the entire effort one reason why you punkoids better have this in your collections. Heavy duty rage-on vocals mixed with a funky jazz backing makes for a decidedly Detroit-ish effort that woulda brought the house down if that house happened to be the Grande Ballroom. Recorded a good year before FUNHOUSE too and it sure woulda fit on that platter along with a good portion of the Umela Hmota 3 catalog!

The Rice Miller Band-"Red House"/"Shot in the Head"-Here are a couple tracks by one of those groups that got quite a bit of notice during the New York of the mid-seventies yet never got to leave any recorded grime behind, just like a good portion of those acts that the Miller Band was sharing stages with while barely having enough cash to make the trip home. The Rice Miller guys seem like they'd be a good enough buncha true blue types too, especially since Hilly Kristal did note that they used to haul their equipment in a dump truck! 

Thanks to Paul McGarry I, after years of almost heavy duty curiosity, got the chance to hear two tracks these guys have left behind, And believe it or leave it but the Rice Miller Band's a surprisingly good white rhythm 'n blues act especially when you consider just how off-center some of these white blues groups can be. "Red House" is the Hendrix 'un and does sound a little too close to the whole tuffguy George Thorogood style for my tastes, but "Shot in the Head" has a bit more grit to it that makes even a guy who's usually indifferent to these sounds at least not wanna dismiss these groups in my typically offhanded way. Kinda snat in its own particularly white 'n gritty fashion 'n nothing to up your booger-infested nose at either.

The Guitar Bashers-"Don't Mess With The USA"-These Bashers played out only twice as far as I know, once at CBGB and the other at Max's before vanishing like so many of these groups right into the ether. The story of these fly-by-night groups who had something good to say can kinda get heartbreaking, at least in this case where the concept of "power pop" ain't reduced to simpdom as it coulda gotten many a time. "Don't Mess With The USA" (rec'd at the CBGB show) is overwrought with hard-gnashed chording meets mid-seventies popmodes (I even hear a bit of the Beckies in here) to a point where it all remind you that there were a whole lotta over-the-top rock sounds to be heard in between the usual gnu wave giddiness that seemed to prevail. If you can find this and their "NY Stomp" (also from CB's) via Youtube, record them, press them up on a 45 rpm and you got one of the best singles of 1980 that never ever did come out!
And now for the goodies...

Patrick Greussay/Stephane Vilar-LES IDOLES LP (Monster Melodies Records, France)

Hey, this ain't the original soundtrack that I reviewed quite awhile back (look it up yourself), but alternative takes and fresh trackage that might or migiht not have made it into the actual film. 

If you liked that particular piece of gallic cinematic freakout you'll probably want to latch onto this. Sure I gotta admit that some of the brassier moments don't flibben my jib, but the straight-on rockers (sung by the film's stars Buelle Olgier, Pierre Clementi and New York Dolls emulator Jean-Pierre Kalfon) will hit you just as hard and as "nugget if you duggit" straight-on as alla those sixties rock ons everybody seemed to forget about until punk rock sorta jostled their memories. 

Too bad Les Rollsticks (the group created for the stage production and film) didn't hang around long enough to become a real rock force on the French underground. I get the sneakin' suspicion they coulda made some records that would pepper up any collection a real deal BLOG TO COMM would harbor in his knotty pine den!
The Monkees-LIVE IN JAPAN 1968 LP (Sixties Recordings, England)

Can't locate my Rhino Monkees live disque, so this new release comes in quite handy even though I am not your typical 70-year-old chubboid grandma Monkees fan with her hair in curlers and her mind on Davy. 

An overly rambunctious and appreciating Japanese audience goes ape over these teenbo idols romping through their hits as well as a few LP tracks known only to the ones who could afford albums, and it's all done up pretty driving-like considering the pre-fabness of it all, It comes complete with the Davy Jones popsters, Mike Nesmith and Peter Tork solo spots where they get to show off their folksy country roots, and Mickey Dolenz bringing the house down now only with a hard-edged version of "I Got a Woman" (not as good as Ray Charles at Newport but eh!) but a surprisingly gnarl-filled "Stepping Stone" that's different from the hit but in a dark and nerve-twisting way.  

It is energy personified. And alla you Class o' '68 high stool snoots thought they were just a buncha puppets, eh?
Greg "Stackhouse" Prevost-VINTAGE VIOLENCE : BARBARIC, CRUDE & PRIMITIVE 1975-1979 CD (
Mean Disposition Records, Spain)

Given that for years Prevost wanted to keep his pre-Chesterfield Kings career under wraps it's sure surprising to see an entire album devoted to a hefty portion of those early obscurities. Lotsa them early efforts mentioned in the pages of FUTURE (such as the Mr. Electro series of bands) are finally seeing the light of day 'n it sure is great hearin' the Distorted Levels single again and all the stronger for it ("it" being the sonic scrubbing these cassette recordings got in this age of crystical clarity). The just-post natal bellowings of the Chesterfield Kings are represented as well 'n in a fashion that makes their legitimate releases sound like Mantovani in comparison.

Oh yeah, the title of this package is more obvious than the syphilis sores on your face a direct swipe from that of the first John Cale album. I would suspect that anybody who would tune into this blog would know this more obvious 'n obvious fact, but I mention it only because if I didn't want a whole lotta wags out there who want to feel oh-so-"superior" to me  writin' in sayin' I STOOPIDLY forgot to mention such an Encyclopedia Brown fact as that. I mean, there sure are a lotta anal retentive types out there and you should know because you are one!


Despite some level shifting and tape garble this is a pretty solid sounding recording that, with some studio magic, woulda made a great mid-seventies bootleg had TMOQ or TAKRL been hip to Amon Duul II way back in them mid-seventies. Extended psychedelic excursions here, not of the San Franciscan variety as I would have believed at this stage in Amon Duul II's career, but of a strongly Teutonic variety with a bared-wire intensity that woulda given Can a run for the deutschmarks!  Also includes a version of "Canaan" from PHALLUS DEI that's got all of the mid-east mystical feel of the original!

The Lyres-JAN 14 2005 Debaser, Stockholm, Sweden CD-r burn

Speaking of guys inna eighties doing music inna sixties in the 21st century it's more'n obvious that Jeff Connolly from DMZ/the Lyres has been at it for almost as long as Prevost. And for a group who seemed to go way up and crashing to the depths down ss far as the energy went (remember that terrible A PROMISE IS A PROMISE album from late-80s way?) this 'un's pretty much at the tippy top of that roller coaster ride we call the Lyres' career. Great 'nuff heavy duty garageband organ crank that coulda been mistaken for the original thing had this 'un been mis-labeled as such. By the way, while we're talkin' Lyres has that "special track" these guys did on BACK FROM THE GRAVE #1 ever been reissued? Too bad it wasn't included on any of the vaious Lyres reissues that have come out o'er the years  (my original vinyl is locked up somewhere and won't be obtainable for a few months) and like, in these days we could sure usse it.
DG-307-PTAK UTRZENEJ ZE RETEZU /PODZIM 1979/ CD (Can't make out what label it's on, but it's definitely of Czechoslovakian heritage)

The title loosely translates into A BIRD TORN FROM A CHAIN, AUTUMN 1979 if that makes any sort of sense to you. And somehow, given the collective lack of scrutiny some of you reg'lar BLOG TO COMM readers have, I don't expect you to really understand let alone appreciate the goings on to be found on this platter, recorded and perhaps even issued by the infamous industrial rock collective DG-307. 

In case you  aren't up on your Czech underground rock 'n roll history or perhaps are a total lunkhead when it comes to this sort of squall like Jay Hinman* is, DG-307 were (and perhaps still are) contemporaries of such seventies-era Czech underground groups as the Plastic People of the Universe and Umela Hmota, working out their frustrations with a sound that consisted of the use of discarded mufflers and trash cans mixed in with a standard rock feedback approach. The results convey the agony of the social system these guys hadda endure, where their art had to be approved by a buncha upper-snoot stiffs who had no appreciation of sound outside of patriotic military marches and schmoozy adult pop. 

And it really does make me laff that there are a whole slew of pampered pooches passing as youth who think it would be just GRAND for the return of such a stifling social system. The funny part being, once the new regime does get into gear these well-offs are gonna be the first ones marching into the showers for a deliceing that's really gonna prove what a bitch karma can be!

You might want to imagine an eastern-euro Red Crayola but not quite. In fact, the use of even a shard of a basic rock 'n roll format (complete with the requisite Velvet Underground nervesplice) which could be spotted on their earlier recordings has been jettisoned in favor of a quite stark style more in the tone of the avant drive that was starting to creep into the throes of everyday life sometime in the fifties. Anguished vocals with nerve-scraping Jack Benny violin. Paranoid muttering over the emptying of trash cans. Bongolated kettle drums, antique zithers and vaguely folk-music melodies pecked out on pianos. Think Nurse With Wound --- you just might be halfway there.

Of course the average BLOG TO COMM bopster's gonna find this rather stark and severe, and I wouldn't blame ya if you think as such. But for an expression of where some people who just wanted to be free, and not in your typically loveydovey way, found themselves in the face of a boot-grinding reality this just might make an impact of some sort on you.
ALBERT AYLER LP (Philology Records Bootleg, Italy)

Another one of those jazz bootlegs that, unlike those of the rock 'n roll variety, came relatively cheap and in semi-professional packaging as well. Side one's live from a '64 show at the  Montmartre in Copenhagen (home of the essential Cecil Taylor epic NEFERTITI, THE BEAUTIFUL ONE HAS COME) while the flip's from a gig two years later at the Berlin Jazz Festival and face it, both sides are more than just slightly essential. Especially tantalizing as far as the Ayler canon goes is the Berlin show which features the presence of violinist Michael Sampson, who while not as acidic as the likes of Leroy Jenkins or Billy Bang adds a whole load of maddening gnarl to an already excruciatinly emotional performance. I think this has been reissues legal-like, but live dangerously for once now, willya?
If you really wanna make me feel mean, miserable, suicidal, morbidly depressed and just downright ikky, buy all of the available back issues of BLACK TO COMM and push me over the edge! I mean it!!! Hurry up and KILL ME OFF RIGHT NOW!

*A "man" who now has his own blog dedicated to reviewing old fanzines (though not as old as the ones I handle, his being mostly from the "punque" era), an idea which I am positive he swiped directly from my very own efforts regarding the whys, wherefores and general fun these magazines exude. I mean, where else would he cop the idea from given all the rah-rahing I've done about these home-made wonders ever since the days of my own crudzine efforts!? Somehow I doubt that he will review or even acknowledge any of my admittedly low-fi efforts, but I thank God for small favors considering just what Jayzey would say about them considering his past attempts at tearing me down for reasons only really known to him (a tear down which worked, unfortunately).  God, how I hope someone doxxes him so some inspired reader of this blog would go kill him and his family (yeah, I know they're his wife and perhaps even kids but really, the shit doesn't fall far from the asshole) and make me a somewhat complacent person in this life. Die you cunt...DIE!!!!

Saturday, January 21, 2023


Yeah, just about every tru-blu fanabla who reads this blog is more'n just a bit agog over the Three Stooges. But did any of you ever go for any of those Stooges cartoons that peppered up the television screens for quite a spell back in the sixties and seventies? I mean, the Robotic Stooges might have been good for a one-second laff, but would you want to watch a whole bunch of 'em for an entire hour? At least those Cambria 'toons had them live action wraparunds that had some redeeming Stoogian value. And as far as the comic book realm goes how many of you cherish alla those Little Stooges and Teenage Stooges books that were undoubtedly to be found twixt your copies of ARCHIE AND ME not forgetting ZAP! wallowing away in your own personal fart-encrusted bedrooms? Sheesh, even as a adlo comic rack and flea market comic book searcher I knew enough to avoid dribble such as that!

Face it, just because some sorta  entertainment commodity is a hit in one realm doesn't mean it's gonna translate well into another medium. Sure the Popeye theatrical cartoons were just as good as the original strips and I gotta admit to having liked the old Bugs Bunny comics at least until the art went zilch, but a good portion of the time translating a live action character into a comic book just doesn't cut it the way the producers of such items banked their ill-gotten gain on.

'n I gotta say this collection of Three Stooges sagas that have been reprinted in this not-so timely (right at the tail end of the big Three Stooges revival of the eighties) volume really don't do the Stooge memory any good. Not only is the cover misleading albeit on purpose (no Curly to be found in these pages but really, if a shot with Shemp or Curly Joe were to be used d'ya think it woulda sold any?) but the stories just can't compete with the rill dill as if whomps and baps come off so good on the printed page as they do celluloid. 

Oh yeah, the Norman Mauer etched Shemp-era comics have an eye-appealing swing to 'em and the stories, while far from filmic greatness, do tingle the nerve endings a little. And the Dell-period sagas (some which are comic book representations of then-current Stoogian cinematic fare) ain't as bad as anything you might find from any eighties upstart comic book publisher. But the magic level's particularly low as if any of the action here could compete with watching Vernon Dent getting all flustered or Christine McIntyre slapping Shemp all over the place. 

Well, the adaptations of the Hercules and Around The World films will appeal to those of you wo spent more'n a few Sunday PM's plopped in front of the tee-vee watching these oft-poo-poo'd flickers. 'n hey, even with the iffy results I'd rather read this book than comb through any of that hentai you guys slam your hams to thinkin' it's some sorta expression of your displaced masculinity, if that word still has any meaning these sad 'n sorry days.

Saturday, January 07, 2023


In all of those years of roaming through stacks of comic books during the Golden Age of my just-pre-pubes years I never recall coming across this short-lived Archie Comics title! Not that I think that YOUNG DR. MASTERS woulda been flying off the shelves at the same rate that those in-demand by me Marvel superhero titles were but hey, who out there would have thought that a comic like this was gonna appeal to the model car skateboard 'n glue sniffin' suburbanite teenbos the same way that the latest Stan Lee creation would. Sheesh, I don't even think that said kiddo's acne-laden ugly cyster holed up in her room with Ringo pics splattered all over the place woulda gone for it so like, where exactly was the market for this particular attempt at combining action, drama and romance or something like that (I'm sure even the folk at the former MLJ were confused!) considering the convolutedness of it all.

Yeah, there's the adventure angle (Masters rushing to save everyone from trapped construction workers to a shady businessman and his companions who survived an airplane crash) to the inner turmoil between Masters and his father (daddy wanting him to concentrate on doctoring while Our Hero's more content diddling with his test tubes) not forgetting the gushy romance angle custom made for the gurls (Masters' fiancée is a bitch while sweet Nurse Redmond worships him from afar --- a new variant on the old Archie Betty 'n Veronica angle). Put 'em all together and whaddaya got but a muddle that was guaranteed not only to last but two issues but one that not even yer typical Saturday Afternoon Barbershop Kid's siblings of the femme persuasion wouldn't wanna pick up on a bet!

In some ways YOUNG DR. MASTERS reminds me a tad bit of M.D., that "New Directions" EC title that lasted a few issues under the tutelage of the Comics Code which saw the entire EC comic book line do a rather undramatic tailspin. Y'know, one of those "toned down" EC entries that featured knights of yore, fearless newspaper editors, heavily edited science-fiction and, as if you hadn't gotten the gist of it, doctors going out of their way to save mankind in the noblest ways possible. Of course M.D. had great art, class and wasn't gonna make you feel creepy the same way I did when my dad caught me reading MILLIE THE MODEL and began casting dispersions about my manhood (I tried to explain to him that these late-sixties MILLIEs were but ARCHIE swipes right down to the Jughead stand-in but that didn't do any convincin'!). But still, if indeed MASTERS was a take on the long-forgotten EC title dontcha think it was kinda funny how Archie Pubs had the perhaps not-so-strange habit of swiping ideas from their arch enemy EC what with titles not only like this 'un but ARCHIE'S MADHOUSE and of course the MAD HOUSE MADS which actually earned the former MLJ a lawsuit from Bill Gaines himself! Boy what these comic book people would do to get each other's goats I'll tell ya!

Sunday, January 01, 2023

Well Crappy New Year to youse and your'ins, and if you think I really care how your holiday season went you're even denser than I thought! Thankfully I had some extra free time these past few weeks to crank out a sooner-than-I-expected real deal big time post 'stead of those pitzy book review thingies, and if ya think I am doin' all this for your benefit you got another think comin'! I'm doin' it all for my own personal feel-good-about-myself benefit and besides, my therapist thinks it does a whole lot more good for me than basket weavin' ever did.
Oh, 'n before I forget, I must thank alla you who got me goodies this year like Bill, Brad, P.D. and of course the fine fine superfine Droogs for their Christmas Card! Of course this past X-mas was nada compared to some of the biggies in my life I have often told you about, but thoughts and actions do count, even in the slightest as alla you people who hate me and the blog undoubtedly know by now!
Heres' a li'l bitta BLOG TO COMM esoterica I found while rummagin' through the ol' stockpile, a pic of none other'n ME taken during my young and from the looks of it hungry days. Sure look happy there don't I? Of course I don't --- I mean that snap was taken at a time when, besides having little to choose from in eyewear other than birth control glasses, there were plenty of good records out there for the buyin' but I was stuck livin' on depression-era wages and couldn't afford many let alone alla 'em goodies that were up and about! That is, unlike YOU ROLLO THE RICH KID TYPES OUT THERE WHO WERE ABLE TO BUY EVERYTHING YOUR LI'L OL' HEARTS DESIRED AND WHO WOULD HAVE PROBABLY LORDED IT ALL OVER ME HAD WE COME INTO CONTACT BACK THEN IN YOUR TYPICAL UPNOSED FASHION T'BOOT!!!!! Hey, I hadda work hard to be able to afford them 99-cent Flamin' Groovies albums (which I still own and hold near and dear to my boobies) while all you upper crust "punks" hadda do was get daddy to foot your bills in order to get alla 'em imports and bootlegs that were poppin' up all over the place! And you wimpass well off snoots still had the nerve to call me a "poseur" (oh boo hoo sniff blubber!) while munching on brie and fine wine for weeks on end, Sheesh why dontcha try workin' a day in your lives and see how hard it is to come by them platters honest-like 'stead of just "asking for it" like I know alla you pious and priggish narsissies have ever since the doctor was thinking about throwing you away while keeping the placenta, which, in retrospect, probably would have been the proper choice to make! Sheee-yit!
I suppose that I should say something regarding my own personal thoughts and beliefs regarding the usual everyday current events if only to get alla you radical elitist snobs' bile all in an uproar. But then again, alla you pampered petunias have long quit reading this blog in self-righteous moral outrage so why should I even try? But I must because, frankly you kneed to my my own thoughts and opinions a whole lot more'n you do those armchair radicals at DEMOCRATIC UNDERGROUND

For one thing well, I gotta admit that I kinda like it watching the current Prez bumbling about taking the world down this the country with alla his handlers trying to make him look oh-so-presidential falling flat on their faces in the process, and I gotta hand it to the folks not only at the White House but the media at large for even bothering to tackle the Herculean task of making the ol' fanabla look even halfway coherent! naturally not reporting on his gaffes while still deriding Donald Trump as the badski does help, if only in the slightest even if everyting that seems to be thrown at his comes off like a cherry bomb tossed at a thick-hided rhinoceros. If anything, I gotta give credit to Biden for one thing --- he makes former prez Gerald Ford actually come off downright elegant in comparison!

As for slobs like me who live in the sate of Pennsylvania well, it is definitely true that I might have some devious fun watching the changing of the guard in the senate and governorship here just like I would watching the apocalypse from a safe distance. Not that I thought that Josh Shapiro (a man whom I absolutely LOATHE) was a shoe-in considering not only the weakness of his opponent but the chi-chi upper class liberal vote concentrated in the big city areas, but the fact that enough people got off their asses to send that human train wreck John Fetterman to Washington really does make me wonder what weird neurological robotics we're gonna be in store for on C-Span in a few short weeks! Personally I wish that Kathy Barnette had gotten the nod considering how a good portion of the Pennsylvania elite wishes that her mother had her D 'n C'd after the rape that she was conceived in butwhaddeva, a this point in history all I gotta say is that you people got the government you voted for and yer gonna LOVE it. But too bad for us normal folk who go to work and have to foot the bills to suit your socio-political reform whims and fancies, ifyakowaddamean...


Again, here's a nice heapin' hunkerin' buncha old, new. borrowed and blues things I've been spinin' since our last soiree. A nice batch if I do say so myself and if thie following reviews don't prompt y'all to head for your nearest record shop to snatch up these sonically speaking efforts well, I guess things are just as usual as they've always been ya knuckleheads! Kudos to Paul, Brad, and my by-now aged vinyl collection for the contributions.

Chrome-THE CHRONICLES !! LP (Dossier Records)

An old classic that Brad Kohler got me for Christmas thinking that, in all these years, I NEVER HEARD THE DAD-BLASTED THING AS IF I WAS SOME SORTA PIMPLE-POPPIN' LOCK THE DOOR AND SPURT AWAY NIMNUL 'R SOMETHIN'! Of course he was right --- actually he was wrong but it sounds funnier if I said he was right --- but it was still nice of the ol' fanabla to give me another excuse to listen to this slice of classic Chrome.  Wall of gnarl complete with a steady drum beat just right for alla you old turds who used to read them fanzines which had Chrome ads plastered all over 'em, and I know you were one of 'em because who else would even go near this blog!


The Senders-ALL KILLER NO FILLER (1977-2001) 2 CD set (Left For Dead Records)

"Can't O.D. on r 'n b" was this group's slogan, but from what I've heard they sure were O.D.'in' on a whole lot more if them stories about Sid Vicious galpal Nancy Spungen asking Senders frontman Philipe Marcade how to shoot up gives you some sorta inkling. Who knows, maybe it was the pharmaceuticals that got this group up 'n goin' considerin' the highly pulsatin' music that is put forth on this collection of Senders tracks both rare and not-so-unreleased. The live @ CBGB album that came out on Midnight is nowhere to be seen here but the Max's 'un from '80 is, along with a whole slew of tracks that take those fifties tock roots which are amphetamized to a point where many a precursor to the Senders sound like BACK IN THE USA come off reserved in comparison. Speaking of the MC5, none other'n Wayne Kramer drops in as does Johnny Thunders and it's all guaranteed to make your prissy Aunt Matilda's ears bleed like nothing since your cyster's last period. Dunno about YOUR ears, but you have been warned.

By the way, the liner notes to his 'un were scribed by none other'n Tim Stegall, a guy who sure got more than his share of abuse o'er the last thirtysome years and, from what I can tell; NONE OF IT, not even a tiny little eeny meeny bit, was deserved. It sure is nice to see Stegall still writing on in the here and now while al lotta the doofs who were putting him down in their own better-than-thou sophisticado ways are now either scrubbing toilets in some sailor bar or running daddy's business with alla the perks and some hot teenage boys on the side. I admire people who stay TRUE TO THE FORM!!!

Anthony Braxton-THREE COMPOSITIONS OF THE NEW JAZZ LP (Delmark Records)

Here's Braxton a good eight or so years before he deservedly got the kind of notice that usually eluded the practitioners of the free form making his a reputation amongst the more-inclined jazzbos found on many a college campus. With the basis of the future Creative Construction Company in tow Braxton gets even more further out there than those far out players of the sixties with a surprisingly bold approach that I never could fathom them aforementioned college jazz hipster wannabes even goin' near! 

Think Roscoe Mitchell and the rest of those AACM-ers, only with a European classical approach that even got some of the John Cage groupies noticin'! But, like Mitchell and a good portion of the AACMer's, still a vital part of the Great Black Music which, come to think of it, appropriated a good hunk of white Europeanisms into their style

By the way, did i ever tell you about the time I was spinnin' some Braxton platter in my boudoir and my father saw the cover and thought he was Johnny Mathis??? A few seconds of sound quickly changed his mind!

The Seeds & Sky Saxon-BAD PART OF TOWN LP (Eva Records, France)

Yeah, most if not alla this has been reissued under the guise of the Bomp! Records Group back inna late-eighties, but at one time this album was the only place most of us could hear these rare sides featuring the Sky King before and after his brief but heady heyday in the mid-to-late sixties! 

Nice Euro-styled sleeve houses not only those rare post-GNP Seeds singles which really do cut a hard psychedelic swath, but some (maybe all?) of the early pre-Seeds Sky spinners which show off a particularly innocent and ballad-y early-sixties side to the man. You might want to pay special attention to "Half Angel" which sure doesn't sound as if Sky is doin ' the warbleizin' --- that's definitely a female in front of the mic and I do suspect it to be Sky's former partner in musical crime and ex-Little Rascal Darla Hood who's doin' the honors! Anyone out there know the true story? If so keep it to yourself like you always seem to do!!!

A great way (if you can't latch onto the Bomp! side) to osmose the extremes in the career of the man otherwise known as dog's best friend.


Wah y Los Arrrghs!!!-CANTAN EN ESPANOL CD-r burn (originally on Voodoo Rhythm Records)

Since the only Spanish I know is "chinga usted" and "tu mama es una puta" (which I believe respectively translates into "you're a swell guy" and "your mother is nice" or something like that) the lyrics on this 'un go totally right by me. However this wild rocker doesn't need no Berlitz to get its message across. Sixties revival racket 'n roll that thankfully eschews the usual hackneyed ruts many of the mid-eighties revivalists got into with a mid-sixties beat that woulda gotten any teenbo of the past up and hollerin' for more'n Shake-A-Puddin'! That flat Moxie sound really woulda helped these guys out, but then again we can'T have everything even if it's tht anti-audiophile attitude we all know 'n love.

Various Artists-A SPLASH OF COLOUR LP (WEA Records, England)

It's been awhile since I've given this 'un a play. In fact this has been the FIRST time I played the thing since I got it and I sure know why! 

While this collection of the New British Psychedelia straight outta 1981 revival-land sounded like a nice idea fortysome years back most of the groups presented on A SPLASH OF COLOUR come off more like Duran Duran wannabes tryin' to cash in on the new British Weekly flavo(u)r of the week! 'n frankly, I was wishin' an' hopin' this 'un'd be brimmin' with nothin' but the type of psychopunks who were seen at the time ampin' up for a hotcha  self-produced single. Sheesh, as if they couldn't've gotten Dr. Mix and the Remix to donate a track!  

Only the Times with their "I Helped Patrick McGoohan Escape" captured any of the stark reasons as to why I was gobblin' this stuff up in lieu of the actual sixties thing being harder to find than Don Fellman in Germantown!

The Night Shadows-LIVE AT THE SPOT LP (Hottrax Records)

It ain't THE SQUARE ROOT OF TWO but this '69 live set is sure better'n just how some of them sixties garage band purists made it out to be. Good mix of mid-sixties aesthetics, the off color hot dog song and the hipster schmooze and it all comes off like I woulda thought a wild night out would've--- even the cover of "Seasons of the Witch" with Little Phil doin' a Janis Joplin imitation is less hippie and more scronk! Well, lemme tell ya that I rather woulda been at this concert than Woodstock --- at least there would be a relatively clean toilet somewhere nearby and you know just how gassy my bowels can get sometimes!

Hawkwind-PORT TALBOT MAY '70 CD-r burn 

The horrible sound quality actually adds a whole load of gnarl to this extended rendition of "Be Yourself" from the first Hawkwind spinner. Incredibly intense rendition here that shoulda been bootlegged long ago even if the overall quality certainly wouldn;t have been suitable for some of you HIGH FIGELIT/STEREO REVIEW half-mastered virgin vinyl pressing types out there.

Hot Lunch-MAX'S KANSAS CITY NOVEMBER 20, 1977 CD-r burn

Better quality than the CBGB 'un reviewed a month or so back, Now you can understand more of what Emilio Cubiero is singing and from what I can make out most (but not all) of it is as disgusting as the bile he was spouting on his DEATH OF AN ASSHOLE platter, that album which got the New York under-the-underground better-than-thou types all agog back when it came out. Good for historical purposes and for those of you who kinda remember punk rock before it mutated into that sissified variation called punque.



Big thanks to Otto von Ruggins for tipping me off to this now defunct Japanese group that no ifs and and buts about it had the German Expressionist Rock style and approach down pat! Drawing on equal parts Can, Amon Duul II and the motorik beat of Neu!, Kikagaku Moyo sounds so seventies under-the-underground Teutonic to me that upon listening I felt like I was back at some Southern California record shop thumbing through overpriced Ohr imports! A group that really dredges up alla those long-forgotten (sometimes even for me) impulses of the past that usually led to the draining of my hard-begged moolah.


Now that you got alla that Christmas money just bustin' outta yer wallet what're ya gonna do with it? Yeah yer maw said to put in all inna bank but you know better! Howzbout spendin' the entire wad on back issues of BLACK TO COMM 'n just tell her that you deposited the booty so's you can buy a scarf for her with the 10 cents interest when Mother's Day rolls around! Hey, by the time Mother's Day does pop up onna calendar she probably be senile anyway 'n besides, why waste money ona lady who doesn't even know what day it is when you can blow it all on yourselves!