Here I am, the MAN WITHOUT COMPUNCTION (doing Dave Lang one
better!) with another one of these ever spaced out in more ways than one posts
where I get to blab on about everything from records 'n sounds compatible with
my nervous system to politics and everyday happenstance, hoping your lives are
just boring enough to buy into it all.
Other'n that well, once again welcome to MY world,
MY turf so to speak and feel grateful that I allowed you to enter
into it due to my undying kindness and love of my fellow music connoisseur
(hah!). The new year's bound to bring a few surprises, not only
regarding music in the "raw stages of becoming" (that died out ages back) but archival digs featuring that
aforementioned music in the raw stages of becoming or whatever other put on
descriptor you can think of regarding the vibrations that has been dished out these
past fortysome (or even more!) years now, eh?
***
Wonder of wonders! The cathode connection has once again welcomed back
THE RIFLEMAN to its realm, this time on the INSP channel M-W and F
at eight in the evening and somewhere or other on the weekends. Powerful
programs here --- just saw the one where Royal Dano plays that mangled up
Civil War vet in a role which really wrenches the emotions even outta even the
more stoic amongst us! Sheesh, he could make the evilest person alive, or even
you
for that matter, look sympathetic! The spirit of Sam Peckinpaugh lives on,
thankfully without the bared squeezies.
***
Yeah I PROMISED, no mo' AI
unless twas to be used in the line of doody but sheesh, I've been having so
much fun with it that I even ran a few covers of my old crudzine through the
AI generator and came up with quite a few mind-boggling doozies. I thought I'd
let you get a peek at 'em because well, I heard it was nice to share things
and better this than anonymous bodily fluids:
And if that wasn't a retardo way to pad out a post I don't know
what was!
***
Before we get "serious" I do have something to say that has been gnawing at me
for some time (though I might have brought this one up before so don't behead
me!). Don't
you think that the
theme to THE HIGH CHAPPARAL sounds too close to comfort to "Telstar"?
***
And as for the recording reviews which follow --- well, Robert Forward better
feel glad that there was a cold snap up here in the Western Pee-YAY area or
else his latest package of goodies woulda been lost in the rubble along with
the rest. Well, with the weather being so cold it was either listen to his
bountiful batch of burns or plop in front of the boob tube and watch the
umpteenth rerun of DANIEL BOONE which I gotta admit is better'n
the old days when Sunday afternoon tee-vee seemed to consist of either some
dull movie, people in uniforms running around and getting paid for it, or
watching Phil Harris go fishing on THE AMERICAN SPORTSMAN but
eh!
The first 'un was obviously written under the influence of "Psychotic
Reactions and Carburetor Dung" (not to mention Peter Stanfield's numerous reviews
including that of the obscure rock fantasy ARGO) and should be taken as being a streak of juvenilia on my part. It should also be taken as total fluff since
for the most part tis way too obvious a piece to be called "creative" by any
stretch of the word. Trash, but as somebody or other once said a few times a
good fifty years back "it's MY trash" and if I can stand reading yours maybe you can mine.
Willy's Rats-THE TALE OF WILLY'S RATS/WILLY'S RATS/GREATEST HITS/ODDS AND
SODS LP's (Festival Records)
Yes it's true! After fifty years (or more) of haggling, frivilous lawsuits,
Sicilian vengeance via former manager Jimmy DeAngelo and haggling between
surviving bandmembers, the Willy's Rats albums have finally been reissued
legal-like. Yeah, now you can throw away all of those horrid pirate copies you
bought from Midnight Records back in the eighties --- the real deal meal is
here for you to enjoy and burp!
The Festival Records label knew doody about how to handle rock groups what
with their making their booty with albums by Murray Frogweather and The Don
Fellman Chorale and letting the rest fend for themselves. Maybe that's why
rock maniacs of the day were willing to pay that extra two buck for those
import copies with the flimsy yet classy covers, whenever a copy would be
lucky enough to wash up on our shores that is.
But after lo these many years Festival finally got it right and reissued the
Willy's Rats catalog with a class that is usually reserved for the less
enthralling musical acts on their roster, and given the hassles and bad
management and overall disdain Willy's Rats got from the rock press (excluding
such fanzines as ELITE METAL GAZETTE and VOMIT VISIONS) it
is tasty that these
guys are finally getting the red carpet that shoulda been rolled out for 'em
ages back.
Yeah, the cover screw ups that came with the very first batch wasn't exactly a
testimonial to Festival's quality control which I assume is jointly run by
Helen Keller and Karen Quinlan (though I managed to get 'em eager beaver I am
and I am proud to say that I own some downright collectable items that I can
sell and retire on if I so wish to). I mean---
WILLY STONES??? But otherwise the label
did 'em swell not only with the overall packaging (each coming with an insert
featuring a history written by famous rockscribe A. Seltzer) but with
pressings that are a thousand per-cent better than those old tire mat excuses
for vinyl that Festival stuck on the public back 1969 way.
Debut
THE TALE OF WILLY'S RATS did
surprise us all back when it was flung into the record bins of 1968 and directly
into the cutout section the following year. Yeah, the hype about 'em being like
the Rolling Stones with a Bob Dylan influence really had a good portion of us
record ravers all agog but the actual effort proved Willy and crew to be much
more.
(
WARNING!: tune out of the next two paragraphs if you want to avoid a
load of boring autobiographical bilge I thought would help give this review
some added dimension ---
hah! Get ready in five --- four --- three
--- two ---
ONE!) Personally, when I heard this as a single-digit pooperoo back when
WPIC-FM was into the freeform mode of programming before they went Stereo 99
with a top forty twist. I went nuts 'n begged the folk for even more moolah to
"throw down a rat hole" (how appropriate!) as they used to say. No go Joe ---
Corgi Toys were fine enough but none of that decadent drivel was going to
touch the family stereo no way!
Oh well, the parents only stalled my slide into the turdpit of hard rock
knocks by a few years but when I did find this 'un at a garage sale amid
copies of everything from
IN THE COURT OF THE CRIMSON KING to
MEMORIAL ALBUM FOR JOHN F. KENNEDY.
I snatched it up for
a quarter after locating the thing smack dab between copies of those very
albums which I bought only so I could smuggle this into the house.
And when I spun it (folks weren't home) those memories of my earlier tuner
inner days sure came rushing back like the water breaking in King Kong's
wife. Lead singer Lou Francis really was an underrated figure on the
English rock scene, or any other scene for that matter. His vocalese oozed
Jagger true, but there were also more'n just "traces" of all the big lead
singer guns from Reg Presley and Sky Saxon to Iggy Pop and Alice Cooper.
The way he "belts out" the lyrics to such Willy's Rats classics as "Guided
Missile To Your Groin" (later covered so eloquently by The Electric Eels
who I assume heard this via repeated WMMS-FM plays during the freeform
year of 1970) evokes a terror that rarely comes up in the rock canon,
conjuring up a fear and feelings of impending doom that not even Jagger at
his most satanic could have envisioned.
Of course the backing is most suited to Francis's role as a modern day
magus summoning the spirits once known and rock & roll. No big
surprise since he honed his craft in a Shadows ripoff band before heading
into the mid-sixties r&b emulation society and becoming one of the
heralding lights of Third Generation Rock.
Let's just say that even the denizens of Ladbroke Grove who strolled by
Willy's Rats rehearsal space hearing a version of "Waiting For My Man"
that would have turned Lou Reed straight would be in for a
frightening surprise. The benefit of a diet of cigarettes and crisps and
watching the nth rerun of THE FLINTSTONES. Lead guitarist Jerry
plays with a fiery intensity that recalls James Gurley via "I Heard Her Call My Name" with more than a shard of Michael Karoli thrown
in. Willy's Rats have definitely moved on from their mid-sixties Eel Pie
Island influences, not that there was anything wrong with Eel Pie in the
first place (though for the life of me who'd want to
eat one?)
but the places they go here--- whew!
Tracks like "Book of the Damned" sound as if they were written co-jointly
by Francis and Aliester Crowley's guardian angel while the production has
an eerie sense of nervescrape that wouldn't be duplicated at least until
those Crawlspace releases from thirty years later. Only the acoustic drag
"Child of the Earth" lets us down but I guess that was just an
afterthought reject tossed in to add some sort of counterpoint to the
metallic madness. You can always skip it, or at least look upon it as a
brief respite from the high energy levels. That is, if you really need a
respite.
A lot of the stick it to the man attitude that Willy's Rats were known for
isn't evident here but that's all remedied with the up against the
wall-ness of WILLY'S RATS, LP #2 guaranteed to get any phony high
school rebel kicked outta the house for sedition and general antisocial
behavior. Believe-you-me, the revolutionary rhetoric spewed on this
spinner makes the Jefferson Airplane's VOLUNTEERS sound like
the theme song for the Daughters of the American Revolution and the MC5
like the incidental music for THE DONNA REED SHOW. Rock statements
via the music being combined with fitting album art were the standard at
the time, and both of them shine on this gatefold showing most of the
group on the front and an obviously blasted into oblivion Francis on the
back, but IN NO WAY does that
prepare one for the anti-police/army/maybe even you attitude
to be found within the 35 minutes embedded into those grooves. I'm
surprised Festival didn't receive surprise visits from the FBI after their
audacity to release this searing scar of an album on the public!
It wasn't surprising that during their US tour that the obscene and
radical Rats joined that California Death Cult which almost had the entire
group reduced to La Bianca status. But I guess that's what these guys got
for dabbling in the realm of radical free love apocalypse mixed with the
dark arts and some bomb totin' anarchism. A cocktail that was bound to
explode in their face but miraculously the Rats made it back into their
hole. Just barely, but they made it in.
And I just wouldn't be honest if I told you I didn't think this review sucked
even your own number two. Well, it (like just about everything I do)
seemed like a good idea at the time.
***
Jerome Cooper-A MAGICAL APPROACH CD-r burn (originally on Mutablemusic
Records)
Like Gomer Pyle woulda said, I liked Jerome Cooper's
ROOT ASSUMPTION album but I didn't love it. In fact, I recall
being downright bored by it at least during one spin but might have been
due to fraying at the nerve ends. However this live album by the former
Revolutionary Ensemble percussionist has me thinkin' that maybe my head
was slightly off-kilter during that particular playing of the man's
premiere effort 'cuz this is a high ranker as far as seventies jazz (and
its aural remnants) accomplishment goes.
The live take of "Root" here's mesmerizing what with Jerome's rhythmic
bass drum/high hat beat to a rather driving balaphone solo. Other tracks
feature a recorder-like flute called a chiramia as well as one of those
chintzy eighties-era cheapo Casio-like keyboards giving off some seeming
outta place synth sounds that, strangely enough, fit in with Cooper's
various excursions into African idiophonic clank. Dagnabbit but it sure is
surprising just how much music Cooper can get using such a small arsenal
of instruments.
Ornette Coleman himself gives this a rah-rah and like, who'd wanna argue
with him?
***
Anthony Braxton-LIVE AT THE RAINBOW GALLERY '79 CD-r burn (originally on
Hi Hat Records, Cyprus)
When this live in Minneapolis sesh was released Braxton was still riding
high on all of the good publicity he was gettin' ever since Arista signed
the guy up and made him the new Brubeck (as R. Meltzer kinda/sorta said in his 77
things 'bout 1977 piece). Well, the beret and stale doritos college students who
think they know better than everyone else needed someone to rah rah, eh? Maybe in this case they were
right. This is a pretty hotcha spinner what with Braxton and a band fulla
veterans of foreign sessions doing their best to keep that AACM drive
going on for as long as it did before all of the majors began dropping
their free jazz companies. If you wonder what that rumble was, that was Charlie
Barnett spinning in his grave after hearing Braxton's rendition of
"Cherokee".
***
Jimmy Giuffre 3-1961 2 CD-r set (originally on ECM Records, Germany)
Robert Forward must be a mind reader (well, not really since there are
some thoughts in there no one should be privy to!) because I was looking
for this one for quite some time. These Verve sessions don't have
that avant-chamber feeling that made FREE FALL from the following year such a stand
out as far as the early-sixties new thing went, but they're still boff as
far as those explorations in jazz that must have seemed so strange even to
the then-prevailing bop crowd. Sheesh, and it was only a few years before
Giuffre went total Ornette thus confusing even more of those jazzbos who
remembered him from the days of Woody Herman!
***
Albert Ayler-MORE LOST PERFORMANCES REVISITED CD-r burn (originally on
Hat Hut Records, Switzerland)
Some repeats from the Revenant box set show up but sheesh, who cares what with the
beautiful blare being made available to me once again which I'll take in any form. Mental instability
set to a sound that could only come outta heaven, or Belleview whichever
comes first. Personal highlights include the Newport version of "Japan"
(which you all will recognize from Pharoah Sanders' TAUHID album, done in a manner I don't think even Sanders himself would recognize!) as well as the twenty-minute "Four" where
Ayler joins the Cecil Taylor Trio a whole week before their recording of
the classic NEFERTITTI THE BEAUTIFUL ONE HAS COME album. One
worth getting fanatical about which sometimes comes too easy to me.
***
Various Artists-BRITISH OI! WORKING CLASS ANTHEMS CD-r burn (originally on
Hammer Records, England)
Hain't been listening to much Oi sounds lately, so this burn made for a
swell refresher course which only makes me wanna dig out alla them
early-eighties platters of mine that really seemed to upset a whole load
of souls at NME. (SOUNDS was hip on 'em though, but
that was before everybody found out just what a fraud Gary Bushell really
was.) Makes for a much better burst of rock as energy than the comparative
piddle that's been made by way too many a
punque act (as in sodomy) who are so stuck in the hippie mindset
that they actually believe in "community". Should wither a few lite
metal aficionados while they're at it. I'm so glad that most people (especially those I
loathe) are so
easily offended.
***
Various Artists-BAY AREA BLUES BLASTERS VOL. 1 --- THE 60's CD-r burn
(originally on El Cerrito Records)
What I said about those early blues and sanctified yelps last big post can
also be said about this 'un. At least the original whiteys who liked these
black Amerigan efforts grew up to make some rather good music as any fan
of the Downliners Sect or Them can tell you. Not the kind of music that I
really go whole hog for but eh, it sure sounds better'n anything I've
managed to hear in the supermarket lately.
***
It is true that not only I but my very
crudzine have been taken as a joke for a longer time than even Methuselah
could have remembered, but so what. I'm just waiting for the
PUNCHLINE which
I'm sure will knock more'n a few naysayers out there for that legendary
loop. Until then, you can help lighten the load by grabbing up all of the
available back issues and then we can all settle down, see how everything
turns out, and perhaps even have the biggest ever guffaw in our entire
pitiful lives!
Phfudd you!
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