POETRY MAGAZINE REVIEW! CLEVELAND : GOING HOME (HOT FUCK), EDITED BY AL HORVATH (early spring 1977's my guess) 

It ain't like I hate poetry compilations...it's just like I've had some excruciatingly bad experiences with them. 

It all started during my high school years when the English department would put out the yearly literary magazine called AQUILA ('r was that the yearbook?). Boy did Mom want me to get something published in it as if it would've really been a feather in my quite unfeathered cap, and of course each year I would submit something definitely of a nonliterary, or for that matter non-cohesive nature thinking that it was the most hotsy totsy thing that mankind coulda cooked up brainwise. And naturally year after year my submissions got the big reject stamp which was really something hard for a guy like me to take, hating rejection yet having to experience it day after day. As you'd expect from a sensitive soul such as myself, I cried me a river and maybe a few reservoirs in the process.

Well, mother naturally was disappointed that my material (which wasn't "Milk, Milk, Lemonade" but almost as simplistic) wasn't used and seemed slightly peeved at me because of it, but boy did she blow her stack when one poem that DID make the grade, submitted by the son of a prominent local doctor at that, was an outright cop of some rather popular rhyme that the guy obviously lifted outta some handy book of poesy. Naturally the thief got off scot free which burned up a fellow like myself who used to get punished for transgressions both real and imagined and here I am, scorned by my own mother because none of my scribblings were worthy of the school mag and they go and print some plagiarizer undoubtedly knowing that his efforts were bogus beyond belief. Of course it wasn't until years later that I figured these sorta entries into the world of high school stature were nothing but popularity contests run by the snootier, bound for glory students who had free reign to get away with bolstering their own (and their pals') social hoity-toityness in the ranks of schoolkid hierarchies, and what was I but a mere doormat for alla 'em to wipe their feet on.

So yeah, poetry collections really do not cozy up to my own sense of what I should or should not settle down with when it's snuggle up time --- sheesh, sad to say but I've even had problems with some of those chapbooks that Bill Shute used to send me which is obviously one good reason why he quit doing so! But maybe there are other somewhat extraneous reason for me to ENJOY a poetry collection and this particular effort has quite a few.

And CLEVELAND : GOING HOME (HOT FUCK) is one collection that has its benefits outweighing the bad doodie at a pretty good ratio. Not just the dirty title, but the attitude (seventies decadent nihilists putting this 'un together 'stead of scions of rich kids headed for the ivy league and probably four divorces each) and selection of entries sure does its fair share of making this something that is certainly worthy of my time. (Dunno about you, but then again you're probably a jerk who also copped famous poetry outta books and passed them off as new.) The contributors here also read like a partial who's who of the Cle punk underground (Laughner, Pressler, Bernie from the Invisibles, Carol Furpahs of IUDecoys...) and the layout's rather spiffy for such an endeavor what with two collage splurges (Heath Bar wrapper, loose change...) and silkscreen illios, not forgetting that crucial attitude that seemed to get washed down the drain once the down and dirty seventies got scrubbed beyond belief once the next decade rolled in. And although this definitely ain't a music rag the function of sound during the mag's assembly during the horrid winter of '77 cannot be denied : playlist to the cut and past was the following --- BLOOD ON THE TRACKS, "Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo", Bowie's LOW, Patti Smith's "Piss Factory" and "My Generation" b-side, the English version of ELECTRIC LADYLAND and Derek and the Dominos' LAYLA AND OTHER ASSORTED LOVE SONGS. 'cept for the last two quite impressive and even with Hendrix and Derek somewhat interesting even if I always thought the last two were "older kid music". Well, Laughner was always an eclectic sort and I'm sure he would have approved.

I found the entries actually downright stimulating (a surprise given my inherent illiteracy) and there is just too much to mention and detail in one sitting since I'm already getting long windier than usual. Bernie Joelson's "Light" was quite inspirational, almost like a heartfelt prayer that even I feel like I should recite every night. It begins "Light, Oh light, come down on me so as to purge me of my natural inclination to be nasty to everyone I meet". Still, I gotta laugh at that one because when I called the man up one Sunday afternoon in the mid-eighties he was snotty and abusive the whole time! Must have been a bad day without any light to purge him. Tim Joyce's "Crime Report" had a human interest angle as he denotes the various incidents both funny and tragic that have passed him, or some cop for that matter, by. And James Taranto's "In America" lays down the big late-seventies miasma Jimmy Carter (who just entered into the White House) would warn us all about after he read Christopher Lasch and boosted that guy's stock somewhat. 

Best entry's hands down Peter Laughner's own ".38 Special" Dedicated to Billy Hains, owner of this dive called the Bottleworks located directly across the street from the Plaza Apartments where the haute de la Cleveland arts under-the-underground community (including Laughner) resided. Hains was of the old school of clench-fist workers uniting and all that back when the rabble claimed to support everyday working men as much as they did their other pets...folksinger Frank Thedford used to play "Deportees" for him and not only that but Laughner would take to the stage not only as a solo act but with Peter and the Wolves doing the kind of material that just didn't fit in with the Pere Ubu setlist. Haims was murdered on Saint Patrick's Night '76 during an argument over the price of a beer, and with his passing also came the passing of the Bottleworks and Peter and the Wolves.

Laughner's farewell is somewhat deep, even heartbreaking in the way he reminisces about the free food and clientele, ending his piece with the line "when i get down there to join you, save a seat and a glass for me" which, given Laughner's own demise a short time after the publication of this 'un, does have a certain poignancy that does kinda get hard to shake off.

There's plenty more too from poets both known and not...sheesh even d.a. levy pops up and he's been dead for years already! We even get a sealed manilla envelope that undoubtedly sports some surprises inside. But what can those mysterious items be? Random religious pamphlets or race track stubs? A million dollar bill that I most certainly can use? Do you think I'm going to bust the seal to find out what goodies both licit or not have been placed inside the not-quite hermetically sealed pouch? Are you kiddin'...

I've been trying, and with some success at that, to live the life of leisure these past few weeks thus this waywayWAY  later than I expected (dunno about you) post. Some of you reg'lar tuner-inners might chalk it up to a gross indifference on my part and yeah, to be upfront about it so would I. Naturally I have an even better excuse --- I only wanted to do some relaxing after a few long months of nose grindstoning and other sundry things that kept me from just oozing out like a man in my advanced state of decay should. You won't believe me but I really needed some time to myself, time to calm down and listen to (or better yet SEARCH for within my vast collection) a wide array of sounds, read old rock scribblings and long-ignored Golden Age comic stories  (I've been re-reading my old GINGER comic books, the ones that were done up when the usually bland [but not on these!] Harry Lucey was doing the pencils) and just act like the same sort of lout that I was when I was much younger and knew much better than to go out and get some fresh air. Kick up your feet stuff, and I think I got more than my share of all that done these past few weeks if it's anything to you.

I already told you about the days when Friday would roll 'round and after school I'd settle back and dig into my comic books or wide array of MAD paperbacks while bopping my dog Sam on the nose whenever he'd come sniffing in my face. Maybe even play some pre-disco AM radio back when the form emitted periods of occasional downright joy, soaking myself into the new hits and (especially) mid-sixties "oldies" just before the thing got snapped off due to questionable lyrics, complete with a warning to "NEVER LISTEN TO THAT STATION AGAIN!!!!!"  Those are the moments I would love to revive more and more of as life rolls down that lonesome trail to inevitability.

Some people think that man was meant to just laze in the sun all day, I say he was meant to be holed up in his house drinking soda pop, watching old television reruns knowing that nothing since could typify the glories of a suburban slob lifestyle, and eating the essentials...candy, Cheetos (the fried to a crackly crunch kind) and Pop Tarts straight from the box.

Given that this post is the last "biggie" of 2024 let me in typical Leo Gorcey fashion express my heartfelt holiday sediments in the only way that I can and say---I couldn't give a shit about any of you or anything you may say/think/eat/sleep even during this "joyous" occasion! Don't expect me to toss any men of good will cheer your sad and disgusting way...no "Merry Christmas" or "Tidings of Comfort and Joy" here nosiree! especially considering the way alla you louts have treated me throughout my illustrious (hah!) career!!!!!

Now that I got alla that outta the way lemme say I hope you ooze into this post like a worm burrowing through your dead mastiff, getting about as much mental nourishment as you can given that this really ain't whatcha'd call one of my better efforts (as if anything I ever wrote was worthy of THE PENGUIN BOOKS GUIDE TO ROCK CRITICISM THAT IS SNOOTIER THAN ANYTHING YOU'VE EVER READ IN YOUR LIFE...sheesh, whatever happened to those Jonathan Eisen AGE OF ROCK collection that lumped together the good stuff?). But eh, it'll do considering how the competition these days seems to make even my toss-outs read like GRAVITY'S RAINBOW.

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BING AI AIN'T WHAT IT'S CRACKED UP TO BE!: well sometimes it is helpful in regards to answering certain historical questions regarding a load of somewhat documented ephemera and such, like what were the names of all the guys who were on the boat with George Washington when he was crossing the Delaware...things like that, but as of late the whole thing seems to have become more artificial than intelligent. When asked of which musical acts of the sixties and early-seventies sported a Velvet Underground influence (and hoping to find some rarities who have slipped by me in the load) I was given mostly a smattering of mid-seventies acts that read just like all of the other Velvets down pat pieces that told us just how great they were and we wouldn't have REM if it weren't for these guys. Sometimes it refuses to answer, such as when I asked AI of a good way to get revenge on certain people or especially when queried with questions of a somewhat naughty nature. Things like when was it when were female breasts (and, to be polite, I did refer to them as breasts and not suckems or squeezies!) first considered sexy! Sheesh, sometimes I get the idea that the intelligence gathered artificially over at Bing is being overlorded by the modern-day equivalents of those old reform league biddy types that you used to see in a slew of old 40s/50s comedies!

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ALSO LISTENED TO ON THE ROCK WRIT PODBEAM: Phast Phreddie Patterson (smart talk about the BACK DOOR MAN days though I wonder who he was thinking of when he made those comments about how he was pulling our legs with all that definitely non-precious petunia commentaries re. "race" etc.), Howard Wuelfing (quite informative self-spew from a lifer although I sure would have liked to have heard more about his associations with Half Japanese), Lindsay Hutton (hard to understand but seems like a typically non-Scots type to me---kind and generous!) and Tim Ellison (he talks the same way he writes!). Future interviewee suggestions...Mark Jenkins (HYPERION), Fred Whitlock (SPOONFUL), Bruce Mowat (THE MOLE) and Russell Desmond (CAN'T BUY A THRILL).

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SOMEWHAT RECENT DEATHS: Andy Paley, two-time loser who was the heart and soul behind such shoulda been bound for glory acts the Sidewinders and the Paley Brothers. Both of 'em deserved more than just their mere cult status but got wooshed under the weight of a whole slew of similar-minded and perhaps even subpar albums and like, who could afford to get 'em all anyway. (Shouldn't forget his brief stint as Patti Smith's keyboardist not to mention his role in the Shangri-La's reunion at CBGB either.)  Well, the man did good with his producing career but sheesh, if his former bandmate Billy Squier could make it big, somewhat that is, why not him??? And maybe I should mention the passing of Jamie Klimek of Mirrors/Styrenes/Jamie Klimek Band fame who sure remains a tru blu BLOG TO COMM hero and I ain't jivin'. Did I ever tell you about that Saturday in 1982 when he called me up asking how he could find a copy of Pink Floyd's "Scream Thy Last Scream"?

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Right now I feel just like Nancy so let's get into the plenty of platters at hand for today! Now this batch of goodies might be too much for you readers to handle in all in one sitting so I suggest that you read some of it now and save the rest for later just as you would do with that cheap candy of the same name. Don't want you kids to cranially overload yourselves (of course I get the idea that most of you will read some and never come back --- so what else is new?), but beware of the gaseous gangrene-y nature of these writeups...sheesh, I just can't help myself typing away endlessly the same way I like to gab on about myself to anyone unfortunate enough to be within earshot.

Thanks to Robert Forward, Wade Oberlin, Brad Kohler and Paul McGarry for their kind donations. The rest of you who enjoy sex and travel can, you know, go take a fuckin' hike!

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Syd Barrett-VOLUME TWO : SCATTERED NEEDLES 5-CD set (no particular label)

If anything 2024'll go down as the year I dived head first into the cult of extreme Syd Barrett worship, dragging out everything that the man has wrought us that was clinging in my collection. I'm talking items ranging from the English import copy of A NICE PAIR with the slightly different cover (too scared to play my original 1967 English copy of PIPER AT THE GATES OF DAWN due to its by-now larger than life value) to the guy's two solo spinners and, naturally, a wide array of bootlegs from UNFORGOTTEN HERO on down, absorbing the pure lysergic energy (without any of the bad stuff as Frank Zappa once said) while comfortably cloistered in the makeshift rec room. To be cornball about it, I'd say that this was a pretty nice way to spend a year if I do say so myself.

Well anyway, there have been a slew of rather cheap multi-CD releases gathering our old fave acts in one nice package coming out as of the past seven or so years. I assume that these recordings are now PD which would explain the budget price for so much sound and well, even though I certainly ain't gonna toss any Barrett boots that I already possess out the window I am glad that I have a whole lot more of this stuff'n any serious Barrett fan (and I'm talkin' seriouser than seriouser!) woulda dreamed even existed in the first place. I sure wish I heard alla this way back when 'stead of in the here and now when I'm so old and decrepit that I'm bound to keel over any doggone minute, but I am glad these sonic rumblings have finally snuck their way into my system! 

This has an amazing selection that even exposes these ears to a few pieces of Barrettabilia that for some obvious reason or another never did grace my hammer and stirrups. Sure you might not exactly cozy up to hearing the first album with an out-of-phase stereo mix (I don't mind because I'll listen to that album any way I can) but there's actually what I would consider a fair amount of ephemera that I wasn't aware of on these shiny slabs of aluminum. Those different takes and new versions of alla them tracks you flipped over back when they were first booted back in the eighties are here. and you hadda pay higher than usual prices because well...them record stores really had you over a barrel dealing with all that illicit booty! Just ask Brad Kohler about Jim's Records and my attempts to snare their Barrett boot ca. 1988!!!   

But whatever and whenever about these tunes, they just might just get you flashing back to the time you first spun Syd during your teenbo days and the only stimulant you had in your medicine cabinet was Vicks Vapeorub. 

The familiar bumps up against these instrumental tracks and alternative versions and hey, if some nubbleface out there asked you what your fave "desert island" disc is you can cheat and say that it's this lengthy and fun-packed piece of true rockist energy. Just hope that when you do go the Gilligan route the sand doesn't get into your portable player. 

And to think this is the second volume making me wonder what they crammed into the first given the completeness of this batch!

They're still sellin' copies on ebay for any of you interested parties out there, and if you're one of the sonic explorers of the past or even future and thought that Pink Floyd with Syd at the helm or the man on his lonesome was the pinnacle of late-sixties English punkitude then well, I guess you wouldn't mind parting with a few precious pennies now, hunh?

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Sun Ra-SPACEWAYS LP (Org Music)

A 2016 release of some iffy-sounding live recordings from '66 and '68 respectively, packaged in a cheap sleeve bereft of credits or even your typically high-falutin' Nat Hentoff-y liner notes. Not one of his better releases but eh, Ra is Ra and there are some fiery moments to be heard such as the flute-assault and clavioline/arco bass duet on "The Wind Speaks". Loads of familiar Ra compositions are here to be re-re-re-RE-heard and re-evaluated, and if you (like me) discovered the guy during your teenbo years and glommed onto every cutout and even expensive import that bore the guy's name well, all I gotta say is ain'tcha glad ya NEVER "grew up"?

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Fluxus and Neo-Fluxus-KEEP TOGETHER PART TWO 3-CD-r burn set (originally on Sub Rosa Records, you can get a real deal 2-CD edition here)

Not having the booklet that comes with it I'm having a hard time trying to tell which and what from where. I'm also a bit miffed that there are very few original Fluxus recordings here, most of this being but rather recent recreations. Eh, I got it for free so why should I sniff and blubber anyway?

Mix of Fluxters old and new, some from the outer reaches of the form (Milan Knizak, the guy who eventually founded the musical act Aktuel when he headed back to Prague) and many who are so new that I haven't heard of any of 'em last time I checked in with this crowd. Some surprises like rare John Cage and Nam June Paik, Ay-O (known more for his name than for his work) and hey, there are even some early Yoko Ono compositions that have finally been "realized" after all these years. 

For a guy like me who still has his old FILM CULTURE Fluxus newspaper stashed somewhere within the wreck of his bedroom (annotation and collating at this point in time would be a daunting task, so if anybody out there wants to come over and do it for me what's keepin' ya?) this sure fits in with my own passions and interests in art of this nature. Yeah it shoulda come out long ago but it's here, I'm old and at this point in time the only people who should REALLY care are you young'un's just gettin' in on the game. Le' me 'lone, I've had it. 

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Los Lichis-SMALL MOLE & THE FLAVOR JEWEL TRIO CD-r burn (originally on Ever/Never Records)

Another one of those groups that I assume are humongous on the under-the-underground "I got this and you don't" music snob circuit, but danged if I've ever heard of 'em! 

Mexican in origin, Los Lichis continue on that long-running improv/drone rock path that has been previously treed upon by such trailblazers as, say, The Beat of the Earth. Simple, hypnotic music that isn't that dissimilar to many earlier attempts that have been somewhat intriguing since the days of The Exploding Plastic Inevitable.

A sound that is definitely relaxing while still stimulating to those unused brain cells piled up in that cranium called your bean. I won't buy any flesh and blood copies of their records (I'm poor cheap) I will say that I will recommend that you either buy 'em outright or just burn whatever's available off the internet like I was wont to do until my tower went kablooey.

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Silverhead-SIXTEEN AND SAVAGED LP (MCA Records)

Hmmmmm, did I ever write thus 'un up on this blog? If I did well, here's another review of that album by Michael Des Barres' pre-acting career band Silverhead, the one with the reject from Rodney's English Disco (at sixteen she really was too old) pictured in full wasted splendor on the cover. 

As far as the innards go well, these guys were pretty good mind you, but not as good as most of those other decadent beyond belief (at least for the early-seventies) groups were during them days of glam slam. Silverhead played more of a straightforward rock almost like the kind that Faces were unleashing at the time...good enough not to turn off the radio if they ever did get any play, but still far from the outer reaches that Iggy was hitting in strides. 

These glam slammers sure lacked that deep down slice of decadence that woulda made 'em leaders in the seventies burnout rock brigades, but who could say that they weren't punky enough to snuggle in your record collection next to your other wasted teenbo records which epitomized the seventies a whole lot more'n PARTRIDGE FAMILY reruns ever did.

 

Probably worth a bazillion dollars these days so you shoulda gotten it really cheap way back when like I did!

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The Raconteurs-CONSOLERS OF THE LONELY CD-r burn (originally on Warner Brothers Records)

While doing some cheating via the 'net trying to get more info on the Raconteurs I chanced upon their Wikipedia page. Yes, I am that out of the loop when it comes to most music created after the signing of the Magna Carta, and if you must know there is a certain pride in the fact considering what a lot of music made after the signing of the Magna Carta sounds like. 

It was there that I read about these Detroiters transplanted to Nashville guys who played some sorta alt/county/blues/indie globule of sound...funny, but at times their music comes off way more like early/mid-seventies heavy metal right around the time that music was changing from "sonic integrity" (as R. Meltzer once put it) to braincell-pop dirge for people who wanted "class" in their music while retaining their social status as burned out box boys. A not-so good sign of the state of hard sound if I do say so myself, although I get the idea that some of you sophisticados out there will disagree with me.

Whatever, I gotta say that I actually DO emit some beads of joy over the Raconteurs' bounce back into previous modes of CREEM-approved rockist ideals. They're actually succeeding at it, at least on some chintzy level where I have to force myself to cozy up to the thing in order to squeeze some appreciation outta these toonz. Still, it's interesting enough to the point where I don't even hate that one song with the trumpet that's heavily influenced by various eighties Styx/Foreigner/Yes snob rock moves. Neither that one with the banjo ("I'm Not That Kind of Man") which sounds like some of the lesser moments of seventies Southern Rock all rolled up in one nice tidy package. Weee-Ooooh!

Nothing that I'd up my nose at (really!) but still, I wouldn't think of snatching up a copy with my own hard-begged in a millyun years!

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HOOVER CD-r burn (originally on Epic Records)

Not that I have anything against 70s outlaw country or even down on the farm kiddies goin' the backroads route knowin' they won't be forced into cleaning up the stables (well, I would have loved to have seen Delaney and Bonnie roasted on an open spit even if I had to pay for it). HOWEVER this singer/songwriter guy who calls himself Hoover just doesn't jibe with my own sense of what 1969 as a year for music as cataclysm shoulda stood for. Must say that the softer efforts did appeal in a...Tim Hardin sorta fashion? Maybe so. One for the more gelatine-esque and rustic amongst you, a few of you who I believe actually do tune into this blog.

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Muddy Waters-HARD AGAIN CD-r burn (originally on Blue Sky Records)

Y'know, maybe I really could enjoy a whole lot more of these blues recordings if I get outta my head that image of white upper-crust snoots imitating white lower-crust snoots who were glomming a lot of it from the original source anyway, slumming in their leather jackets and jeans while trying to get down with the bro's hoping that Little Steven would notice 'em 'r sum'thin'. 

Not as "gets you in the gut" as those ultra-primitive efforts that ended up on those Victoria Spivey albums but wha'ja expect from a big label offering anyway, field recordings? 

I'd say give this 'un a spin after lending ear to the low-fi hardcore real deal blues like the kind John Lee Hooker recorded stomping on a board in some Detroit record shop back room. Or even those one-string guitar things that'd shred the nerve endings of many of these blues types whose knowledge of the form seems to begin and end with George Thorogood. With the miracle of internet the world, like something else, is in the palm of your hand.

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Mount Carmel-REAL WOMEN CD-r burn (originally on Shitbreeze Records)

YeahyeahYEAH, I know you're expecting a tossed off bad review of this 'un if only based on the record label and its turncoat owner who I hope health's in dire condition due to his presumed wild lifestyle activities. Well, as usual you're wrong because I am going to rate this on total merit rather'n by association so quit'cher griping and saying that I ain't "fair" when it comes to relating to you what a record is about as opposed to various extraneous thingamabobs like sound, quality, performance...

For being on one of those snooty underground record labels it sure doesn't sound anything near "punky" or even art school experimental precociously elite. In other words I can't imagine some gal or guy with two inches of makeup caked onto its face and plastic jewelry galore wanting to listen to these hard-rock bloozed up cantatas that conjure up images of those scrawnier-beyond-belief guys with hair they ain't washed in five years you used to see a whole lot of back then. If Mt. Carmel were 'round back '75 way they sure would have given Lynyrd Skynyrd a run for the hard backwoods rock money.

Surprisingly enough I thought these rough early-seventies anti-hippie hard rock vibrations weren't that offensive to my rockist attitude. The no-big label roughness does transport this from being yet another one of those pristine flycrap-less releases that sounded a whole load worse'n had they've been recorded up the canyon of Dave Lang's rectal crevice. Best of all anyone can latch onto a copy for free via Youtube or various other on-line services, though it sure would be better if you swiped a whole load of actual copies just so's a certain label head could go directly into debt! Well, he wouldn't lose a bundle even if a good portion of his stock was to be boosted overnight, but I can still dream now, can't I?

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Blurt-LIVE IN BERLIN CD-r burn (originally on Armageddon Records, England)

Any brain who's been in on Wade Oberlin and FAUX WOOD PANELING would know exactly why the guy burned this 'un for me. Of course it all can be traced back to R. Meltzer's boff review of "My Mother Was a Friend of an Enemy of the Somethingorother" in a '80 ish of THE VILLAGE VOICE published shortly before their music section went to total number two. 'n for anyone who's been in on the Meltzer game ever since the days of FUSION let alone CRAWDADDY can tell you the guy doesn't send you off on any wild goose chases...that record was a total winner in the realms of underground rock making that drastic dive into the cesspool and holds up swell while the other early-eighties remnants just don't swing as much as even the most caked-on makeup types would ever dare admit.

Of course it has what the competition seemed to lack...fantastic repeato-riffs worthy of any previous purveyors of the form, past + present = future assessments of musical forms, lyrics that would seem smart if I could only decipher them. The combination of the three ensures that this just ain't one of the precocious Nicaraguan Rebel Disco things that even ROLLING STONE used to drool over...its something so driving and overall entertaining (over being staid and serious anarcho-agitprop custom made for the remnants of the seventies hippie/feminist collectives who wanted to look "hip"). A not-that-uncommon effort wroth seeking out (get it free on Youtube) and I am so proud that I made it all the way through this review without mentioning Albert Ayler!

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FANCY SPACE PEOPLE CD-r burn (originally on Starry Records)

After lending ear this I was immediately reminded of a whole load of eighties new unto gnu wave acts that irritated the bejabbers outta me back when I was looking for some sonically speaking respite in a load of Detroit-inspired Australian imports. Surprisingly enough, given how this form of sound is not quite up my expansive alley, I found more'n just a tad of interesting moves on this 'un that can be discerned on similar efforts from them days like say, Poetraphonics or Velveteen. It's the smarts that separates these goombahs from the likes of your typical MTV flash in the whatever that sadly enough was the end point to alla that visionary music that first came out in the seventies. Don Bolles is in this 'un too! Most frightening part...the opening riffs to a song that sounded like Bad Company's "Can't Get Enough of Your Love".

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Peter Laughner-CINDERELLA BACKSTREET cassette (FLEET/Handsome Productions)

This came out in a limited edition back '02 way or so I presume, but if you have all of the Laughner compilations and various related sundries you'll probably still need this. What'cha gets here's a quality-packed 90-minute release featuring various Laughner ca. '73/'74 trackage, including a few numbers that I believe have never made it out to the public until this 'un came out. It's a nice compact package complete with the final Backstreet show and truncated "Sister Ray", not forgetting some Cinderella's Revenge rarities that surprised even a thought I heard it all before kinda guy like myself. Especially worth it for the maddening "It's Not Easy"/"I Can't Stand It" mishmosh that really must've wowed the rubes. Listening to this just reinforces all of those good feelings that I continue to have about the better moments of seventies music, the stuff that kinda got buried under the tide of boring heavy metal and disco records that were making the rounds during those shoulda been the best of days times. 

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The Warm Jets-WANNA START A WAR LP (Rave Up Records, Italy)

Knowing that there were at least fifty-five more records in this "American Lost Punk Nuggets" series  really does get my peanut-sized brain rollin' 'round wond'rin what the rest of this series sounds like! Jusging from this 'un those really must be top notch platters 'cause these Philadelphia punkers circa 1980 do the pre-punque routine swell what with their straight-ahead approach to the rockist matter at heart sans the superficiality that some of these groups could tag onto heavily. Yeah you could call 'em the same old same old, but at least these Jets spurt off enough of that high energy drive that keeps your attention going longer'n some of the more piddling competition ever did. Be warned, the tracks entitied "Here Come the Warm Jets" which end side one and begin the other ain't the Eno classic but a group come-on in the same vein as "The Monkees Theme" or even "We're the Fugs"!

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It's that jolly time of the year, and if you want to make me feel really joybells you'd buy a whole stack of these BLACK TO COMM back issues if only so I can recoup some of the money I poured down a rathole thinking this thing was going to somehow be profitable. Not that I did it strictly for the money altruistic jerk I was and shall remain, but I sure need some of that dinero if only so's I can get a pair of shoes for the cold winter months. Well, at least ringworm season is over.