Saturday, July 13, 2024

It hasn't been that long since my last biggie post, but there's a whole lot to get to and I better get to it even though for all intent purposes you did read it here last.


The Sharon/Hermitage area, after years of woeful neglect and perhaps downright scorn, has finally been PUT ON THE MAP! Of course it hadda be due to some 14-year-old kid who thought he was a she which was the start of the entire problem that was the catalyst for and ultimately hastened the youth's death and rather grisly dismemberment, but we sure made the front page this time and boy am I civic pride wave-the-flag proud! The not quite boy and not quite girl's name was Pauly Likens (wonder if this creature was related to the equally doomed Sylvia?) who met his fate dur to a pickup via GRINDR, but still us locals should be thankful because, for the first time since the big tornado of 1985, we got ourselves some nation-wide coverage if it hadda be in such a disturbing manner. 

Judging from the front page of the local fishwrap THE HERALD and undoubtedly every other big name news outlet on the planet, this incident of gay lust gone awry isn't just ANY tale of reaping what you sowed but a horrible earth-shaking occurrence that's on par with all of those other earth-shattering occurrences that have been tossed in our faces these past few decades. Garment rending beyond belief if you listen to some of the more emotional types out there, or at least garment rending enough until the NEXT garment rending incident pops up but ya GOTTA have some incident to get your sense of virtuousness up and runnin' now, eh?

Sounder minds know that the entire shebang was nothing but yet another sordid tale of some unrestrained kid who was way more mixed up than any of the nutzo kids I grew up with. Only this one met up with the exact kind of guy kids like me used to be warned about but now eh, the more enlightened amongst us will only tell their offspring that the creepy pervert in the shack we all used to hear about way back when is now just a complete human being, someone just like the rest of us only with a different lifestyle we must honor and respect just as much as if the man just happened to be a chaste and moral churchgoer. Thinking about him in any other way is pure heresy even if this person has more (what we used to call) "perversions" than even the Marquis De Sade could have conjured up while diddling his wanker away in the Bastille.

The relatives will undoubtedly disagree, but no matter how you slice it (I know, a bad pun) Pauly was a huge hunkerin' ball of adolescent instability who, instead of properly being helped out like he should have was encouraged to be just the type of kid who would end up having to look forward to a future of soiled bedsheets. A boy who was sold a bill of goods by his elders that he could be anything he wanted and free to do whatever was in his heart (instead of mind), so he hooked up with some rougher than usual trade and met more'n just his "match". An amoral youth at that with parents who, judging from their various tee-vee appearances, were undoubtedly your typical lower-class "jeeter" types (probably not wed) who I'll bet my bottom peso had little or no strong moral bond with their offspring letting him do anything his crazy mixed up heart desired without fear of punishment. But had it been otherwise well...that would have been oh-so "Dark Ages" or something along those whacked out archaic lines and as real history has told those ages weren't so "dark" after all but stick to a good slur you must. 

Obviously this gift of youthful freedom bestowed on him included leaving Pauly off on his lonesome for a few days to engage in some extremely risky middle of the night sexual behavior that not surprisingly led to his quite dismal end. Sure makes me wish those lowlifes posing as relatives would get hauled off to court and be severely punished for their own form of child abuse even if you know they never will because of, well...things. That's the real tragedy of this saga and something which, in retrospect, makes me more'n glad that my folks would wail the tarnation outta me even for the slightest of infractions! Sheesh, if I had parents like Pauly who knows, I might have ended up even screwier than him (or than the way I eventually turned out --- and as usual you will be the judge!). 

If Jack Armstrong were 
alive he'd roll over in his
grave and die!
The twisto-changeo of what actually happened and what is being reported in this HOMO ALONE story is a masterful work of art equal to (now get ready since I have used this comparison many-a-time before) the Pavlik story over in Stalin-era USSR where a family squabble turned murder became the shock of a nation due to the crafty work of some propagandists who masterfully tweaked and tuned the story to the Politburo's advantage. For a far more realistic report you might want to eyeball this, but why bruise your own sense of sociopolitical self-righteousness by reading something that opposes your own precious worldview? Maybe you should, because I've been pretty much forced to endure your sanctified opines just brimming with fake self-consciousness and virtuous fluff whether I wanted to or not (most often the latter) these past thirtysome years!

As expected, the political vultures have already swirled 'round just itching to take advantage of this admittedly tragic situation. Pauly's corpse ain't even cold yet and none other than PA guv Josh Shapiro is using the murder as an opportunity to get even stronger hate (thought?) crime laws passed even though this particular incident was (once again) a strictly homosexual matter with no normal people involved whatsoever. Y'know, just like the Matthew Shepard bruhaha which was revealed to be a gay-on-gay murder only a few years after that incidence was milked by the lavender mafia and their lackeys for all it was worth, but lie we must for our cause is just I guess. Good idea you have there Josh, but aren't you afraid that after the new law's passed maybe YOU'LL eventually be arrested?


Other'n the likes of Pauly, the RIP list just goes on and on. 'specially hearty farewell to noted Cleveland record shop magnate Johnny Dromette ne. Thompson, a guy who I hold in high regard because he actually would sell me records by mail even though the official Drome mail order biz was more or less stalled and for all I know never even got off the ground. That's niceness above and beyond, and for a grifting type of guy such as myself who wants everyone to be nice and give me free stuff and do favors and all boy, did I appreciate all of his going out of the way-ness. Let's just say that Dromette's acts of kindness were well appreciated  especially considering how all the records I wanted were way beyond my grasp. We even talked once or twice while I was shopping with whatever pittance I had (and well, some of those prices were sky high especially for a peon such as myself) which only goes to show you that there are nice people out there who would even treat a total pissed upon lower 'n low doof like me with some shard of respect!

Should we care whether or not Shelley Duvall has passed? Or was it Didi Conn? I always got those twigs mixed up.

Maybe I should also mention Francoise Hardy even if it is only to pad this post out just a tad  I never even heard of her until I read that BOMP! piece about her that appeared in their final issue and hey, I don't even think I heard a note of her music for that matter. But she was good looking so why shouldn't I give her some space if only for that?


Although I shouldn't admit so I gotta 'fess up to the fact that it is fun watching the usual Mount Olympus types (y'know, the superior ones who act in movies I haven't seen since my teenbo days and go on television shows I haven't watched in years to tell their audiences how to think) either covering for Prez Joe Biden after his series of quite earth-shattering gaffes or beg him to step down and have a somewhat more coherent (Gavin Newsom?) politician run in his place. Only goes to show you that, no matter how hard you try, you just can't build castles on tapioca even if for all intent purposes the man was never running the show. But yeah, he does make for a somewhat cute/stupid figurehead who was always worthy of a pretty good laugh. I mean sheesh, he makes Gerald For look the one of our best presidents and that's an accomplishment in itself! And Biden is relatively harmless in his decimated need to fear him pressing the button because he's way too weak to do it!

Not that I am not somewhat wary of Donald Trump wigglin' his way back into his old job given that, no matter how hard he tried to convince us that he was a true right wing populist, perhaps even an Amerigan Le Pen or Orban for that matter, he's more likely the "Cheeto Bush" that some wags out there have labeled him. A guy posing as the anti-swamp maverick (even though he sure loaded his cabinet with some of the swampier people Washington could churn out) with a whole load of campaign promises that I don't think he had any intention of keeping in the first place. At least I get the impression that if he nominated any Supreme Court justices at least said prospective justice will be able to define what a woman is whether or not he's fluent in the subject at hand, but who knows. At least I heard that Justice Johnson is a pleasant and friendly person and heck, she has voted "my" way at least once or twice which only goes to show ya somethin', only what it is I really don't know.

My own presidential preference at this time would point towards Candace Owens. The woman has been on quite a roll as of late bravely going against a whole load of tides that would have washed more'n just a few political pundits away, and when the usual suspects have to go way out into using their usual trajectories to twisto change what she actually said into what these types WANT us to think she said you know that the lass is quite effective. Best of all is the plain fact that her offensiveness to the long entrenched political rule makers really tends to get under their skin because like, she is of African heritage and women of such a background are supposed to act like Angela Davis, Flo Kennedy and fat lady on THE VIEW who has hair that looks like fish turds.  

It's too late for 2024 but four years later I wouldn't mind seeing Miss Owens taking the big step into the political arena even if you know the anti-woman and downright "racist" slurs are gonna be thrown around even more'n the chimps flinging their number two down at the zoo. Maybe she and Norman Finkelstein could run on a "get together" kind of ticket...would be worth voting for if you ask me (and why not, it's my blog!).



Ginger's old porno loops wash ashore.

The castaways' hopes are bolstered when they hear on the radio that the authorities are searching for the Professor after it is discovered that he did preliminary research for Josef Mengele during World War II.

Thurston Howell III loses his fortune after having heavily invested in a company that made shoe polish that glows in the dark and no-cal pizza. 

Panic ensues when the rare plant the castaways use to make toilet paper dies in a drought.

After discovering a strange talisman, Gilligan dreams that he is Aleister Crowley.

A Japanese sailor who doesn't know that World War II is over forces the castaways to watch an entire run of Yoji Kuri animation.

The fix is in when Mrs. Howell wins the "Miss Nude Island" contest.

Gilligan trips over and accidently disconnects the primitive life support machine that the Skipper is connected to (after falling into a coma when accidentally bashed on the head with a sledgehammer by Gilligan) as hostile natives go on a rampage.

Marcel Marceau lands on the island, but since he can't speak he's unable to tell anyone where they are and nobody can understand his miming.

Mary Ann's longing for her farm days leads the castaways to go on the search for an amorous wild boar.



Arno Pluckett (Bill Shute), Ferd Berfel (Wade Oberlin), Hugo Tobias III (Dave Lang), Guido Fatchamatta (Robert Christgau), Gustav Kovich (Chuck Eddy), Parley Magruder (Scott Soriano), Gladys Ogilvie (Anastasia Pantsios), Funtime Freddy O'Hara (Dave Marsh), Percival Throgmorton (Brad Kohler), Yanko Kosanovic (Jay Hinman), Vincent Struzynski (Bruce Mowat), Delia Schreckengost (Amy Gelman), Julio Rendigay (Patrick Amory), The Fabulous Moolah (Ann Powers), Tom "The Cat" McAllen (Tim Stegall), Banjeet Patel (J. Neo Marvin), Gdzft Zyekxpwg (Chris Stigliano). Don't you wish more people would rip off old R. Meltzer writing gags like I do?


Eh, not as nice a batch as I woulda liked, but a batch it is and as usual these freebee donations (in this case everything written about below) were sent by Robert Forward and Paul McGarry who are two guys who do know better.

Various Artists-MERSEYBEAT --- THE STORY OF THE 60s LIVERPOOL SOUND 2-CD-r burn (originally on Sanctuary Records)

Like a good portion of these Cee-Dee compilations that have appeared over the past twentysome years this really is nothing but a good excuse to get some by-now easily obtainable tracks and slap 'em together thematically. Nothing especially bad about that if you're looking for a space-saving way to get a whole load of ancient trackage for your own personal pleasure, and as far as for being an encapsulation of the Liverpool sound this collection does a fair 'nuff job. Its got the familiar (Beatles, Searchers) mixed with those groups you only read about in old issues of WHO PUT THE BOMP! (Undertakers, Koobas) and, even for those who think they've heard it all before, there are a whole load of acts and tracks here that I and probably you have never heard of let alone heard before. It is an interesting slab of varying rock groups playing the Merseybeat, but one thing is certain and that is next to the music being made in the Pacific Northwest or any local crankout from across the globe for that matter boy, does this stuff come off soft and downright listless!


Various Artists-POST PUNK HITS VOL. 1 CD-r burn

Had a whole lotta fear goin' into this one...I mean, post-punk usually means "punque" to me 'n what's this "post" business all about anyway as if the original thing ever went away. But surprisingly enough this is a really listenable piece of musical excitement what with some Public Image Peel Session material ('s well as their appearance on AMERICAN BANDSTAND), the Delta 5 who I don't think are as stomach-churning as some of you more discernable readers might, and the same ol' Slits stuff that has been legitimately reissued long ago. Actually it did make for a somewhat pleasant listening experience and a reminder of that point in time when the mode of the music was changing, and perhaps not in the sorta way I woulda wanted but I managed to survive it all even if it were as a lesser man.


Bardo Pond-DENVER (3/8/02? 7/5/02 CD-r burn

Not having heard (or paid attention to) Bardo Pond in quite awhile this burn courtesy of Mr. Forward was a wake up call to be cornball about it. Yeah it's more of that "new" psychedelic rock 'n roll that sounds rather pale next to the Elevators or even various seventies acolytes but it still has a nice dirge to it that fits in with my own set of gritty existence (at least of the soul). Sorta reminds me of various eighties vintage underground rock attempts, some successful and others not, that were fighting it out for your hard-begged dinero with about a thousand other upstarts putting their own records out in the hope for that prized review in the pages of OPTION.


FARM CD-r burn (originally on Crusade Enterprises Records)

Another one of many local psychedelic records made during the earlier part of the seventies, only this one's pretty close to the psych groove without being bogged down by the more flowery aspects that later befell the music. A hefty debt to the Allmans is more'n just plain "obvious", and although I am far from what one would call a fan of that group I gotta admire the way something like this stood apart from the usual hippie doldrums and right-on "relevancy" that was so prevalent then. Actually a pretty solid record from a band that I gotta say were too GOOD for the wretched tastes that were being encourages instead of shunned like they should have been.


LaMonte Young-DREAM HOUSE 78'17" CD-r burn

I don't think this is exactly the kind of dream house that Barbie would want to live in, but this LaMonte Young/Marian Zazeela installation piece is a fairly on-target example of mid/late-twentieth century art that was bound to get the Big City beret and stale doritos types all agog. Soundwise this is typical Young drone (including one long sine wave buzz) that might not be appreciated to the fullest without the visuals, but people who have been in on the Young game ever since they read about him and John Cale etc. in all those music books will appreciate this on whatever levels their li'l old art major minds can conjure. Good enough for me especially since I had immersed myself in some Pandit Pran Nath a good day or so before tackling this 'un!


Sun Ra-LOST REEL COLLECTION VOL. 1 2 CD-r set burn (originally on Transparency Records)

Double-spinner with some rather good Ra on the first platter complete with standard full ensemble horn blares and percussion workouts that go beyond the usual African root music you often hear on these free jazz efforts. For those long on the Ra discography there's also yet another rendition of "Satellites Are Spinning" that ain't as powerful as the one on THE SOLAR MYTH APPROACH (kinda ragged) but it'll do. The second disc contains one of those lectures that Ra did when he was teaching some class at I believe Berkeley and at least to these ears it comes off like nothing but a load of pseudointellectual shards of philosophy thrown together making little or no sense to anyone other than Ra and his closest followers. Sorta reminds me of that one OUR GANG short about the "Coo Coo Clams" where Sunshine Sammy and Farina (who were members in good standing) work for this black gentleman who gives talks filled with large and meaningless wordage presented in a purportedly scholarly manner. Another slice of Ra rarities and if you have 'em all boy, you must be rich!


Various Artusts-ROCKIN' RHYTHM 'N' BLUES FROM MEMPHIC CD-r burn (originally on Stomper Time Records, England)

Who would have known that there were way loads of these fifties-era r/b efforts recorded if not actually released --- not I! I got some enjoyment out of these definite rarities featuring the kind of sounds that were definitely emanating from the darker part of Memphis, and given that my knowledge of this music is quite dismal I will admit that I at least did like what I heard. There are a couple of Billy Lee Riley tracks included which might seems strange to some considering his lack of melanin, but since the guy was steeped in the blues and learned how to play guitar from some fellow sharecroppers he does make for a nice token inclusion.


Various Artists-THE MUSIC NEVER STOPPED --- ROOTS OF THE GRATEFUL DEAD CD-r burn (originally on Shanachie Records)

Also known as SONGS WE TAUGHT THE GRATEFUL DEAD, this is yet another one of those themed collections just like the MERSEYBEAT one above that more or less comes off as an excuse to rob you of even more of your precious lucre. Can't fault these guys for the fact that these tunes are probably more known because the Dead covered 'em than for their own versions but eh, it's a fine enough grouping as these things usually tend to be. Y'know, I get the feeling that my folks woulda liked a nice portion of the tracks being presented here (at least the less raucous ones), that is until they found out that the Dead covered 'em which at point it's chuck the thing outta the house time and like pronto! (Mebbee not...after all I remember one July 4th when I caught my dad watching NIGHTLINE and as special guests they had Jerry Garcia and Bob Weir playing some folkie thing having to do with a monkey, and dad was telling me about how the Dead were well versed in all types of musical genres and performed them well to a "T" --- things that whoever was hosting the show had relayed to the unfamiliar peons like dad tuning in about the Dead 'n all, and sad to say my father actually came off as if he believed it hook line and Owsley!)


Did you know that when I started BLACK TO COMM up way back when I was trying to get a rag with a CREEM/TEENAGE WASTELAND GAZETTE/BACK DOOR MAN snot nosed gritty seventies thumb your nose not only at the powers that be but the hippiepunks of the day up and going? A rather uncommercial thing to do right in the midst of the squeaky clean golly goodie eighties, and although I don't think I succeeded even though I did give it the good kindergarten kid try maybe you'll beg to differ. And there's one way to find out now, isn't there?

Thursday, July 04, 2024

Well here it is, MY blog, and for that matter the center of MY life. Really, it has all come down to an existence where I do nothing but work, more work, eat, drink and get rid of what I ate and drank a few hours later, and of course settle down in front of the old record spinner/bedside boom box/tee-vee and then write up what I think about what I just experienced if only so's you could ooze some sorta second-hand jollies outta the thing. And to tell you the truth, I think I'm finally hitting my stride forty years after I shoulda!


Some interesting reading material has passed mine eyes as of late, nothing that I think warrants one of those smaller book/moom pitcher/what-have-you posts that nobody reads but they should be written about because who else'd dare do it. First off, I got this nice li'l piece of rockism history that has been out for awhile but unfortunately had escaped my notice until now, none other'n a reprinted edition of the entire 4-issue run of the infamous Stooges newsletter POPPED! Often gabbed about but never actually seen, POPPED was the brainbastard of one Natalie Stoogeling, a gal who I think woulda hadda fight it out with Metchild to see who really was Iggy's #1 fan! I'll bet that woulda been an all out catfight to end alla 'em penthouse apartment scratch 'em ups you used to see advertised in the back of sleazy magazines, but no matter who the winner woulda been it's no surprise that publications like POPPED really served their purpose in getting the Iggy word out to the people who were just fed up with the snide anti-Stooge attitude that mags like ROLLING STONE fostered upon their readership in their quest for pure karmik whooziz!

Lotsa super Stooges hype is to be found within these pages which should get any real fan of the group (or fan of the early-seventies cataclysm in music phenomenon in general) roaring what with the bits'n feces of information that have been included, some of which, if you can believe it, even I have NEVER seen brought up in any Stooges fanmag or forum before! Like didja know that Iggy one met up with Tommy Smothers or that there actually was a contest to write a song for the Stooges? Sure woulda liked to have heard the entries on that 'un! Even stranger is the fact that the Stooges were covering (though to my knowledge not performing in front of a live audience) Nico's "Evening of Light" which, according to Miss Stoogeling herself, sounded better'n the original! Now where are the recordings of that stashed?

Loads of fun to be had with these straight-from-the heart writings which are packaged in a neeto plastic sleeve complete with rare photos that Stoogeling took of her fave rock group. If you were one who went for all those gal fanzines that Lillian Roxon got a buncha acolytes to crank out a few years later, mags like SLADE PARADER, ELECTRIC WARRIOR FREE PRESS and STAR SPECIAL, you're bound to like this 'un!

My other recent fave's a real strangetie that hits the target as far as satire of things NEEDED to be satirized go. It's a spoof of the early-seventies version of that previously mentioned all time hippiedippie spirit-strokeoff journal ROLLING STONE, a rag which for once was getting the kinda ribbing such a stodgy hipkid-centered magazine shoulda had comin' at it for years and I for one am glad. The Hoodoo Rhythm Devils (a group that I really didn't go whole hog for though a re-eval is in order if I can only find my Cee-Dees) had everything to do with this RULING STOOGE, a deft takeoff that renders all of the things that you hated (or perhaps liked at least back when some of the better on-the-ball writers were still allowed to be published within its pages) about these youth-culture capitalists, and their send-up is pretty cutting if I do say so myself. 

With articles and reviews by all your favorites like Ben Virgo-Taurus, Ralph J. Fleecem, Ed Word, John Meddlesohm and Lester Fangs, who can deny that this is the the kinda takeoff that more'n a few tru-blu rockers sick of all the countercultural jiz of the day had been waiting for! (OK, I believe that CRAZY did a STONE spoof 'round the same time and who could forget the phony Lester Bangs interview in BRAIN DAMAGE, both of which goes to show you the far-reaching tentacles that Jann Wenner had on the more gullible youth of the day.) Rec reviews range from the Hoodoo Rhythm Devils to the Hoodoo Rhythm Devils with sidesteps into Mister Rogers, and although you probably won't laugh at any of it the thing still reminds all of us as to why this type of hippie journalism and the audience that went with it just hadda go (but didn't, and the rot can still be smelt a good half-century later)! Still there are some fine moments like this particular entry from the "Ransom Notes" column:

Do It Long Enough And It Will Git to Ya: R. Meltzer, noted essayist on rock and things in general, was under observation last week, after friends reported that he was wandering around talking coherently and making sense...
'n although I should be even more offended than Meltzer would've been I gotta admit that it was cool knowing that someone out there at least knew and acknowledged who he and his entire rockist DNA were, are and shall remain.

Last autumn I printed an old FERD'NAND comic that reminded me of a track on the Charles Gayle UNTO I AM album in which Gayle played the saxophone and drums simultaneously. Today I present a 1949 strip where --- now get this --- Ferd envisions that his proudly purchased electric guitar (without an amp even --- just plug it into the wall!) is going to act just like the self-playing electric guitars of Remko Scha a good thirty-plus years later! Not to mention, which I know you were all expecting me to say, even those Joe Jones homemade instruments that popped up on Yoko Ono's FLY album as well as on their lonesome. It's funny how strange things such as this could have been predicted years in advance and in the last places you would ever think of looking:


A beautiful piece of sentimental slosh with Will Rogers, the Our Gang Rascals and don't miss a brief appearance by Charley Chase. A fine example of long-gone pathos and a longing for a past that never will come back, though I thought that Mom's disappointment at not getting a birthday present was pretty self-centered not to mention downright childish, almost as bad as Mike Mercury's when he thought the Supercar crew had forgotten his!:


THE SHITS JUST KEEP ON COMIN' DEPT.: The above snippet featuring a sly putdown of yours and mine truly was lifted from the pages of Jay Hinman's prozine DYNAMITE HEMMORHAGE #1 from quite awhile back, and I for one and downright shocked at the craven attempt not only to diminish my various contributions to the cause of music (hah!) but the extremely feeble attempt to drive a wedge between me and Bill Shute which fortunately fell flatter than Olive Oyl's chest. Well, t'is obvious that the doof who wrote the above doesn't know how to read a map considering that in no way is Sharon Pennsylvania located in the southwestern part of the state, and although his sense of direction may be dismal enough who could deny that his disrespect for me and all of the great things I've done for all you readers is also quite disgusting. Ooooh! And here I thought Hinman was oh so sorry for all the things he said about me...well, I guess its ok for him if others do the snide asides but him?...NO! (I hope he, and others out there, understand the vaguely humorous and fun-poking tongue-between-the-cheeks frivolity I'm engaging in, but knowing people the way I know them I would say probably not!)

(FREE PLUG TIME: don't get your hopes up too high, but in the near future there just might be a new issue of DYNAMITE HEMMORHAGE hitting the mag racks, and if there ain't something nasty about me or my opines or whatever included in it well...I might be a tad surprised. But anyway, if you can afford the high price tag go out and buy a copy --- it's BOUND to be a real doozy!)


...and although this is older'n Methuselah news, heres' a hearty Rest in Somethingorother to Donald Sutherland, one of the creepier actors of the second Golden Age of Moom Pitchers. Really, this guy seemed to be in every other film released throughout the seventies and eighties before becoming a spokesman for the Florida Orange Growers Association, an up-to-date Lyle Talbot, John Carradine or Keye Luke who never turned down a role. Here is my favorite Sutherland scene which continues to hold up view after view (unfortunately the one where he kills the cat in that Communist apologist drag-a-thon 1900 just ain't graphic enough or else it woulda been here!):

While I'm at it, here's a real surprise I knew nada about, mainly the Styrenes with the Styrene Dancers live at the Pirate's Cove Summer 1979:

Got a fair (wha' 'm I sayin'---PIDDLING) bunch of reviews this time, most of which were sent to me by Robert Forward, one by Paul McGarry and some actually purchased by me because I wanted to do my part for the war effort.

Man-THE 1999 PARTY TOUR CD-r burn (originally on Eagle Records)

What else could it be but Man doing their pretend Quicksilver thing on the US Hawkwind tour back '74 way. Considering their roots in the more lysergic aspects of late-sixties West Coast braincell exploding music they're pretty good at capturing a good portion of the aura that fried a few million brains. It ain't bad really, though at times you can get bogged down by all of those spacey jamz that don't sound the same without the proper stimulants that usually get passed around at these sorta concerts. A good enough grind on for those days when you're doing the laundry and ironing and want some backdrop that sorta weaves in and out of your daily doodies.


Cecil Taylor-UNIT STRUCTURES CD-r burn (originally on Blue Note Records)

I started this review out in about a gazillion ways trying to say a whole lotta to-the-point pertinent things about this '66 effort. Stuff like about how a track like "Enter, Evening" comes closer to the even baser ESP jazz ideal than Taylor ever had before, or just how, to use that worn out descriptor, angular it all sounds even when compared to his other efforts that were pretty all over the place themselves. None of 'em really were suitable enough to describe the hard edged bared wire intensity that Taylor and band (oldies like Jimmy Lyons along with newies like Alan Silva and Andrew Cyrille) ooze like pus from a pore. The bridge twixt early budding Taylor who seemed to be fully understood by Nat Hentoff and nobody else to the guy who was even edgier than all of those jazzbos who were copping all their ideas from Taylor in the first place.  Kisses any semblance of proper structure goodbye and waves as the train leaves the station, it's that worthy of your time and effort to latch onto and let creep as far down your earhole as possible.


Airway-LIVE AT LACE CD-r burn (get it here)

More of that late-seventies LAFMS free sound that, while not as much into the rock 'n roll realm as Smegma or the Child Molesters, still manages to rip roar into yr skull just like the rest of all those 70s/80s sound as sheets of aural metal most surely did. As an added bonus the always above and beyond Mr. Forward slipped a bit of Airway taken off of Brian Turner's WFMU radio program back 2009 way when the Potts' etc. do some interesting music that reminds me of Japanese mini robots performing a New Guinean circumcision ritual with their metal crab claws!


Karlheinz Stockhausen-KONTAKTE CD-r burn (originally on Ecstatic Peace Records)

Stockhausen ain't makin' the same shudder shock on me the way that Cage or Varese do, but I find the proto-krautrock energy somewhat exciting. Not as much of a work of art as the downing of the Twin Towers, but still an interesting slice of classic electronic dabble.


Rods and Cones-CBGB OFF THE BOARD cassette (CBGB Records)

Since I don't have any "Cassette Caga" columns planned either in the immediate or distant future and I'm really hard up for fresh to mine ears material to review I thought I'd tell you about this recent acquisition. 

 One cool thing about CBGB was that they were willing to support a whole load of the groups that needed a little push, and the string of live cassettes they issued in the mid-eighties did bring some of the lesser-known acts bumbling around on the club scene to a somewhat wider audience. Rods and Cones were part of that package, a pretty straightforward rockin' sextet that had somewhat of a seventies laid back rock swagger to 'em but weren't as irritating as Boz Scaggs, Bob Welch or a variety of mid-seventies AM snoozeroonies that I have fortunately forgotten about. 

Okay, "Come Sunday" does remind me of Scaggs' 1976 chart topper "Lowdown", but I still find it somewhat decent at least compared to much of the "hip" amerindie bilge I've had to endure throughout my "career". Then again, even "Lowdown" sounds like the Stooges next to most of the offal that the radio (and "hip" underground labels) has tossed at us these past fortysome years so maybe that ain't much of a compliment. Still a good enough straightforward collection of whiteguy play on r/b moves that ain't anything new or for that matter exceptional but it does have its appeal and excitement. 

Now if I can only locate a copy of the live tape by Toronto's Tulpa that CBGB issued at the same time. Supposedly all of those got lost somewhere down the line but who knows, maybe a Canadian fan's willing to jet a copy (or a dub/burn) my way.


John Peel-12/28/81 - 12/29/81

These are OBVIOUSLY a couple of year-end roundups featuring some of Peel's fave session tracks o'er the years with the noted chickenhawk rating it all according to his own personal standards (I guess). Lotsa "post-punque" dribble to be heard, but some things do have an interesting zip to 'em like the tracks from an all-gal Scottish act called Sophisticated Boom Boom who sound nothing like what their name would suggest. The rest ('cept for Stiff Little Fingers and maybe a few others) pretty much reminds me of the incredible disappointment I got combing through more'n just a few mail order catalogs throughout the eighties.


Fripp & Eno-LIVE IN PARIS 28.5.1975 3-CD set (Opal Records, England)

THREE whole spinners --- well, actually it all coulda been condensed into one 'n a half --- of one of those shows that former King Crimson guitarist Robert Fripp did with mid-seventies wonderboy Eno wayway back when records like NO PUSSYFOOTING and EVENING STAR were the talk of the more hip 'n with it than thou set in many-a high school throughout the land. This particular show (and I assume the rest) runs the gamut of truly jarring to proto gnu age prattle, but since these were done up in the mid-seventies it doesn't bother one so much considering all of that techno slickwhiz music wasn't yet overtaking the world. If you have a penchant for some of the more ethereal krautrock music of avgarde repeato-riff compositions of the day well, you know the rest.


Y'know, I coulda presented for you tons of somewhat wittily written articles and reviews cluing you in not only on the most cutting and searing music to have ever graced anyone's ears, or for that matter features introducing you to many an obscurity that deserved to be lifted from the bowels of indifference and onto your turntables. But why bother because you'd still hate not only me but the magazines I have put out from the mid-eighties until the dawn of a definitely grave new world. 'n if you wanna see why just pick up a few of 'em and you will not be disappointed I'll tell ya!

Friday, June 28, 2024


Not a fanzine, a magazine or a book for that matter (actually its one of those quickie churn outs that Babylon Books used to splatter all over the place a good fortysome years back), but HIGH ON REBELLION's bound to get people like myself who are obsessed with sixties/seventies rock mythology and the one called Patti Smith's involvement with it somewhat excited. Not totally excited like I was while reading through Sandy Robertson's WHITE STUFF but good enough to rekindle the old nodes of rock energy and ranch house suburban slob bliss that sorta petered out once the early-eighties really got into gear. 

To be as honest as J. Neo Marvin about it this 'un really ain't worth it if you've been in on the Smith game since the early-seventies. I'm sure that there are more'n just a few of you out there who were on to her back then anxiously pouring through her write ups and articles for a wide variety of pubs, not to mention latching onto your own prized copy of HORSES as soon as that 'un hit the bins. There are TONS of reprints of articles and other Patti ephemera that you probably already read once or at least copped via choice nuggets that popped up in WHITE STUFF or ANOTHER DIMENSION, and really do we need to see those nude snaps of her once again lest our testicles shudder in fear and run back up to the ribcage for safety? 

Still, the original text regarding the lass and her history is well written (although nothing out of the ordinary is revealed) and there are a few bits that have passed me up even this late in life such as a NEW YORK TIMES piece by then-contributor Jonathan Cott. You may remember this guy --- he's the same Jonathan Cott who whipped up some rather high-minded and somewhat flitzy material in the early edition (and even later) of ROLLING STONE. (To me he's best known not only for the interviews with John Lennon and Karlheinz Stockhausen that appeared in the mag's early pages but a snooty high-minded putdown of the Red Crayola in their tenth anniversary issue calling them the bummers of the San Francisco Summer O' Love going against the entire grain of the spirit and warm 'n toasties those days exuded. Well I definitely am exaggerating but Cott sure didn't go for the group's atonal shenanigans which thankfully did a good nose thumb at all of the youth-gone-rancid loveydoveyness that was in the air.)

Cott aside I will admit that this entry fits in with my own ideals of just how much 1964-1981 were the real hard-driving years for rock 'n roll (and I don't mean the same kinda LSD haze that I assume Cott reveled in nor the whole James Taylor First Family of Rock spew his mag foistered on a generation of gullible kids) and how Smith, for all her rather creepy eccentricities, was a rock 'n roll fan like the rest of us who fortunately got to live her fantasies of being as big as her idols out unlike a schlub such as I. But given the oft-seen reprints and same-old packaged in a nice 'n glossy color cover effort I coulda done without it. I didn't and like well, it does snuggle nicely into my own '64-'81 homage to an era long gone and missed (at least by me) library that's cluttering up the place to the point where I just might be the next subject matter on the HOARDERS television show!

Thursday, June 20, 2024


Yet another trek into the vaults showcasing a whole buncha records of the seven-inch set. A good excuse to revisit long-unheard spinners hidden in the back of the pile which I will admit have yielded quite a few surprises even to me...

Died Pretty-"Out of the Unknown"/"World Without" (Citadel Records, Australia)

Australia was still buzzin' when this Rob Younger-produced single hit the consciousnesses of more'n just a few rock-starved OCD's back in the dark days of '84. Side one sounds more like It's All Meat when they were doing their early Pink Floyd moves than it does the Doors but still has its feet firmly planted in psycho terra firma. The flip not-so-oddly enough reminds me more of the Chocolate Watchband with that opening which sounds as if it came straight outta "Baby Blue". A few years later it all came off watered down when compared with what had transpired but when it was fresh boy, did I think that the next Golden Age was upon us and like now!


Mike Rep and the Quotas-"Mama was a Schitzo Daddy Was a Vegetable Man"/"Rocket Music On" (Hozac Records)

I don't think I should review this 'un considering how these guys have consorted with the enemy, but random pulls outta the collection being random pulls and all I got stuck with it. Low fidelity '76 vintage Ohio local rock with the same sorta suburban slob approach as the Real Kids or perhaps even the Screamin' Mee Mees, something which should not come as a surprise considering all of the raw scrapes of sound that were being laid down not only in that state but in the entire world just about the same time. For those of you about to reduce rock 'n roll to a compost heap of sound, we salute you!


Simon and Garfunkel-"El Condor Pasa"/"Why Don't You Write Me" (Columbia Records)

Another random pull out, and an inherited one at that (as if I'd ever buy such a thing)! The hit side proves once and for all that Paul Simon was swiping from the indigenous ones long before "Mother and Child Reunion" let alone GRACELAND, but if anything this 'un reminds me of the adolescent fun and jamz I used to have changing the lyrics to such absurdities as "I'd rather eat a booger than a turd" ... (another one was "I'd rather be a penis than a cunt --- you silly runt --- go on a beaver hunt" which is something you would expect from a twelve-year-old only I was 35!). The flip snoozes on though I will praise it for being at least tepid. Can you really run it through your brain that there were millions of 14-year-old girls out there who took this record (and this duo) to their flatter'n a pancake bosoms?


12,000 GIRL SCOUTS SING AMERICA'S NATIONAL FAVORITES 7-inch 33 rpm EP  (United Artists Records)

And speaking of flat bosoms...twelve-thousand girl scouts??? Them gals sure hadda sell a whole lotta cookies to make it to this jamboree where I'm sure they not only had quite a good time skinny-dipping (hopefully without their Troop Leader lecherously spying on them) but got to record this EP of hoary chestnuts both familiar and not. It must've been utter heck to get 'em all singing in tune and all together for that matter, but they do and the results kind of remind me of either an avgarde musical experiment I'm sure John Cage would have loved to have conducted, or something that would have transpired in Mao-era China where one out of place squeal would send said singer to the re-education camp definitely not of his choice. Audio proof that 12,000 girl scouts can't be wrong, or better not be wrong to be more precise about it!


Tiny Tim-"Comic Strip Man (Biff Bam Slam)"/"Tell Me That You Love Me" (Solid Brass Records)

Gotta love Tiny Tim for trying to keep abreast of all the latest trends 'n gimmix in order to rev up that BIG COMEBACK he always thought was just around the corner. On this '81 release Tim attempted to cash in on the then-recent superhero revival complete with cheesy to the limit gal back up singers and Southern California session men who I'll bet'd rather be reading HUSTLER that working with this once-living legend. You know what it sounds like already, and I love every second of it. Other side's one of those trips back to the kind of twenties/thirties music that Tim gnarled his teeth with, or better yet the late-sixties nostalgia trip that Tim rose to the charts on. Thus you could call this an early-eighties nostalgic yearning for the nostalgic yearnings of 1968! Kinda like people whose only fond memories of the fifties are via HAPPY DAYS 'r somethin'.


4-Skins-"I'm Mad"/"When I'm Gone" (Grove Records)

Lotsa local rock groups that shoulda put out records back in the late-seventies/early-eighties didn't, while a lot who shouldn't have most certainly did. However, we can be thankful that NYC's 4-Skins were of the former persuasion what with this rather boff spinner that delivers the goods straight-ahead rather than being hung up on the varying early eighties trends which practically laid waste to the entire genre. "Mad" is an onslaught of straight ahead pre-punque heavy duty sounds which roars on though ends after a mere one minute and forty-eight seconds. "Gone" actually enters into some funky territory and dredges up memories of a music I sure wish proliferated 'stead of then flavors of the week that unfortunately took up way too much space in the pages of THE NEW YORK ROCKER and TROUSER PRESS. More of this kind of raucousness was needed by groups like the Skins (and a ton of unknown/unreleased acts) back then and maybe even now in a world where rock has been dead and buried for a good four decades already.


Nico-FOUR SONGS LIVE AT CBGB, MARCH 8, 1979 EP (What Goes On Records)

It was quite some time since Nico's last record so this EP did come in quite handy. Four songs recorded straight to cassette in what sounds like a quite intimate setting, one where you can ever hear the muffled chatter at the tables. Lutz Ulbrich strums guitar on "All Tomorrow's Parties" and Nico howls her harmonium on the rest. When this one does pop up for sale it's usually at an affordable price so you don't have to worry about any bank breaking on your part.


Gene Vincent-"Be-Bop-A-Lula '62"/"The King of Fools" (Capitol Records, Germany)

It's too bad that Vincent's '62 re-do didn't do anywhere near as well as the Ventures' "Walk Don't Run '64" because the thing really does have that sorta/coulda been feeling. "'62"'s a jauntier take on the original with an overall feeling and production that might have been more suitable for the whole Rydell/Vee crowd than the greaser jaunt of the late-fifties, but as the old cliche goes "it works!" Well, somewhat. Yeah, it was a comedown of sorts but then again Vincent could have sung Brad Kohler's report card and it would have sounded great. There's more of the same on the flip, this time complete with backup vocalists who sound as if they escaped from a SING ALONG WITH MITCH taping not to mention an overall direction that's as MOR as can be. It is better'n anything you've heard on the radio or tee-vee for the last fiftysome years so shut your trap and open your mind.


The Beach Boys-"Good Vibrations"/"Let's Go Away For Awhile" (Capitol Records)

You, me and even Helen Keller have heard the a-side overnovernover to the point of gagdom, but the instro flip really does satisfy those of us who still have somewhat of an appreciation for what they used to call California Sunshine Pop. A melding of moods and shifts that only a troubled mind could have come up with. "Let's Go" is the strange missing link between the original instrumental surf era and the new poppier sounds that were just on the horizon, and if original owner Michele Hodge is out there you can always stop in to take a gander at your long-gone record as long as I'm home during a day in the week with the letter "z" in it during a total eclipse.


Jane's Addiction-"Whole Lotta Love"/"Slow Diver" (Hell's Gate Records bootleg)

I loved the dickens outta this 'un when I first heard it way way back, but how does the thing hold up now that I'm older and much stupider if I am to believe some of you readers? The Zep cover still manages to tingle, sounding like something that I'm sure a few thou groups from the seventies and beyond coulda whipped up and maybe even performed at a Saturday night prance. "Slow Diver"'s the kicker, with moody late-sixties Pink Floyd organ intermingling with RADIO ETHIOPIA-era Patti Smith mystico mumbo jumbo that sure brings back warn 'n toasty memories of how I thought these late-eighties punk groups were gonna resurrect the mid-seventies teenage lament after years of squeaky clean whitewash. Unfortunately their debut album wasn't as good as far as I can remember, and I have the feeling that their subsequent ones weren't as well.


The Downliners Sect-"White Caterpillar"/"Lord of the Ring", "Spider" (Garageland Records, Sweden)

Even the Downliners Sect couldn't resist the lure of psychedelia as these released only in Sweden tracks so plain as the nose on Nanette Fabray's face reveal. With titles like "White Caterpillar" you can tell that the Sect were about as far into the psychedelic groove as the Troggs which I gotta admit says a whole lot more positive about the Sect and Troggs' contributions to the form than it does about the Jefferson Airplane's. Pretty hard rockin' for the Sect as well, and I wonder if any of those Sect haters who wanted to piss in Don Craine's deerstalker cap way back when woulda had different thoughts had this record made its way to their ears? Prob'ly not but what else is new?


Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments-CAREER INTERRUPTION CODE 33 rpm EP (Datapanik Records)

Mighty fine lo-fi wail on this 33 rpm spinner where the Apartments "borrow" heavily from everything from "Waiting For My Man" and "Gloria" to re-invent the concept of garage band rock the way most of you lunks probably first heard it via BACK FROM THE GRAVE. Trash enough (read: PERFECT) for my own personal tastes and perhaps yours too unless you're some sorta troll who likes to get his kicks writing stoopid comments on this blog. Notched many points for mentioning the excretable fanzine upper-echelon snob Tom Lax on the sleeve...wotta twat!

Y'know, if I only realized that Ron House was being sarcastic when he was whining the ikky "Letter to a Fanzine" on that Homostead sampler I wouldn't've given him and his Great Plains the razzing that I did. (Well, I gotta say that for the past fiftysome years it has been hard for me to separate put on from reality as most of my readers have surely found out, and vice-versa for that matter.) Boy did that start a feud to rival the Al Capp/Ham Fisher hatespew, the one that ended with the latter's suicide (no self-inflicted demises in our case as of yet). This 'un should forever redeem House in my eyes, but since I get the feeling that the guy continues to loathe me just like most of you sophisticado types out there most certainly do (he once described me as looking like an "insect" and if it were to be a butterfly I'd punch him in the mouth!) forget I said anything nice about him. Like anyone ever said anything nice about me (as if I should care anymore, but at times I do) so screw 'em all!


The Trashmen-"Henrietta"/"Rumble" (Sundazed Records)

This won't make any of those one-dimensional self-appointed hip kinda people change their minds about the "Surfin' Bird" creators but it will bolster our own faith in the entire Trashmen oeuvre. High quality sound too unlike the roller rink acoustics I thought would have been associated with a recording by a group on the low rung of mid-sixties snootiness. It's sure nice to know that there actually were people who remembered Link Wray in the mop topped year of 1965.


Konk-"Soka-Loka-Moki" (99 Records)

I recall being somewhat interested in that whole funk/dance music thingamabob that groups like Pigbag and these guys were cranking out during the v. early eighties, and these sides (which I assume are the same song) do have somewhat of a neo NYC decadent take on various James Brown moves that were so big at the time. But overall this is really tiring music that sounds as if it were made especially for some white New Yorker who wore a beret and light tan sports jacket and hung out at chi-chi parties where everyone was blasted outta their skulls on a variety of "stimulants" talking about who was on THE COCA CRYSTAL SHOW the previous night. You can bet that in these days each and every one of these people are about as humorous as a Sartre novel. You may call it punk funk (it really ain't --- check out Ronald Shannon Jackson or the Human Arts Ensemble's FUNKY DONKEY for that) but I'll call it the beginning of the end.



It's no surprise that the older generation types were going whole hog for Kaempfert back during them days of teenbo rebellion 'n hair touching the collar/upper ear lobes (a big nada for the folks and relatives!). Well, Kaempfert's pseudo big band pop sure was a nice change of pace for some mid-aged office schlump having to endure "Quick Joey Small" over and over while carpooling the kids, and who out there would doubt that the Longines Symphonette people really knew which demographics to focus their energies on! 

This promo flexi presents a nice enough medley of Kaempfert trackage neatly strung together sorta like those "Stars on 45" singles that were all the rage 40 + years ago. At first I played it at 45 and thought it had a nice kinetic bounce to it. At the proper 33 speed it had that slow glop feel that was bound to appeal to alla them cube types out there who wanted to do some oozing out after a long day's work. I can imagine some fifty-plus guy in 1972 playing the music presented here on his cheap Zayre's-bought stereo system, the kind that most all of us hadda endure whilst spinning our own then-piddling collections.

This flopper sure brings back memories of alla them free flexis that companies like Longines would fling out to them silent majority types as well of as the fun otherwise bored outta our skulls suburban slob types like myself had spinning 'em...sheesh, the first time a ten-year-old me ever heard any, or for that matter even heard about Buddy Holly was via one of these things!


Dangerous Birds-"Alfa Romeo"/"Smile On Your Face" (Propellor Records)

Two sides that really make me feel wonderful inside like I'm some teenbo kid and so happy about that life I have to look forward to with all the fun, adventure and cooze that's gonna be in store (hah!). "Romeo" might have some elements of eighties-vintage all gal group commercial cutesie poo to it, but even with the sweet melody this outfit still manages to inject some bright flash that kept it from sounding like the latest gnu wave toss into the trough. Real kicker's the flip, a middle eastern romp with castanets and couscous moves that kinda makes me wonder if Boston really was the last gasp of local rock innovation and a mecca for new and exciting talent. This'll help keep my spirits somewhat spry at least until the next time reality kicks in.


Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band-AVALON '66 EP (Blue Desert Records bootleg) 

Rumor has it that some rather well-known rock critic released this on the sly at the same time he did a similar Alex Chilton effort. Well, whatever the case may be this EP did help us out by presenting some rare early Beefheart tracks long before they eventually ended up on a whole slew of illicit longplayers. Definitely SAFE AS MILK-period Beef here, and its all nattily done up at a time when he and the Magic Ones were still heavily into Howlin' Wolf and yet to traipse into their late-sixties cataclysmic mode. As usual the low-fi flatness adds more tension to an already high-powered effort than many people can stand. You've heard this 'un a long time ago, or so I assume...


Burt "Boy Wonder" Ward-"Boy Wonder I Love You", "Orange Coloured Sky"/"Bob Guy-"Dear Jeepers", "Letter From Jeepers 33 rpm EP (US Ltd. bootleg)

And now onto Captain Beefheart's high stool friend and sometimes nemesis Frank Zappa, here seen jumping onto the latest bandwagon that most definitely did have commercial potential. The trax with Burt Ward have been heard o'er and o'er again ever since the Mother People found out about Zappa's involvement with the Boy Wonder (I guess MGM could get away with avoiding the use of the name "Robin" in this fashion --- whoever was responsible sure learned their lesson from Jan and Dean). The other side contained one of those olde tymey hammed-up "nostalgia" efforts my mother hated because she thought the younger generation was making fun of her's! Of course they were, and I gotta credit mom for her astuteness. Naturally both of these songs are custom made for those who still cherish mid/late-sixties camp which I gotta admit sure beats modern comedy attempts at fun and jamz all hollow. 

Flip's some single that a Studio Z-era Zappa did with El Lay horror host Jeepers Creepers during the Golden Age of Local Television (1963), and this fanabla exudes more of an early-sixties teenbo hipster appeal that was perfect for the MAD magazine/Steve Allen/PLAYBOY kinda Joe College type who eventually went whole grain marshmallow. Pretty fun stuff especially for you old-timers who remember just how downright cool low-budget television programming with their eccentric personalities was.


The Spiders-"No Price Tag", "Don't Blow Your Mind"/The Nazz-"Wonder Who's Loving Her Now", "Lay Down and Die, Goodbye" EP (Battle of the Bands Records bootleg)

And the third in a string of tangentially Zappa-related 7-inch bootleg booty. Here are two of the three pre-Alice Cooper singles from back when these guys were seemingly just as human and as every day suburban slobbish as you or (maybe even) I were. The Spiders got the mid-sixties teenbo sound (complete with a riff stolen from "Tobacco Road" on the a-side) down swell enough while the Nazz come off West Coast psychedelic what with their "Wonder Who's Loving Her Now" sounding closer to the Chocolate Watchband's take on "I Ain't No Miracle Worker" than anything I've heard before or since. For a funtime task compare "Don't Blow Your Mind" and "Lay Down and Die, Goodbye" with the versions that Alice and group were preforming a good three/four years later.


Rancid Vat-"It's My Fate"/"Slow Ride" (T/K Records)

And to top things off this effort from one of the few hardcore or thereabouts groups that were still worth their weight in salt after the rest proved themselves to be nothing but hippies in sawed off denim jackets. Can't complain about the a-side which is a surprisingly driving numbuh with interweaving guitar shards all backing up Steve Wilson's beauteous growl. Foghat gets the treatment on the flipster only proving just how much the Vat could take rather snoozeville boogie and rough it up beyond recognition. One of the few who hold up long after the rest floundered horribly, and if you want to know more about 'em just read the eighteenth issue of my not-so-infamous crudzine only you won't be able to cuz that issue's long out of print and just try findin' one!