BLOG TO COMM

Lotsa free time indoors what with the inclement weather we're encountering here in the tri-county area these wintery weeks. Good for me.

At least spending time with a classic rock (not "classic rock") fanzine of the seventies while a variety of musical modes play on really is something that puts more'n just a li'l smile on my face. Total "back-brain stimulation" which only takes me back to the better portion of my youth, the one I missed out on because I was too young and too restricted to be a member of the Lost Generation (Mark II), which might or might not have been as "romantic" as the one that gave us F. Scott Fitzgerald (did you have to read THE GREAT GATSBY junior year in high school? Did YOU get bored out of your mind?) or Harry Crosby, but it was just as lost as those two ever were.

'twas 1964-1981. Give or take a few years. And if you knew the who/what/when/where and whys of under-the-counterculture living you were in solid. Not exactly in solid with the beneath the outkids set of which I was a member (in fact, the only member), but with the total eruption of sight and sound right smack dab in front of your face. Not that it was jumping out right at'cha...you had to look and perceive in order to discover and appreciate it. 

The earliest rumblings could be felt if you were part of a less-cloistered existence, and the music that gave forth ranged from the fever-mad visions of everyone from John Cage to Charles Mingus on the highbrow end and the Trashmen and Wailers on the opposite pole. Sure it would all blur into one mass of total energy as the years progressed but back then lines were drawn and frankly, if you were 180 degrees separated back then you still were on-target in your own inner gyroscopic way.

The first real burst came with the Beatles arriving in the USA and the floodgate of rock 'n roll's second generation pouring right into the sanctity of your own den. The Pandora's Box you glad opened up and dreaded closing because you knew what the alternatives were (mainly NO FUN AT ALL!). The sound and vision grew as time spiraled on and although at the time nobody could have known the fragmentation was beginning. West Coast easy going denim versus East Coast energy and suburban apathy. The kids who got suckered into that whole right on relevancy trap and its fecal leftovers versus the ones who were straight into the O-Mind. Boundaries were blurred and crossovers were aplenty, but one could tell which side one was on by the records that were owned. EVERY GOOD BOY DESERVES FAVOUR and TAPESTRY on one side, WHITE LIGHT/WHITE HEAT and FUNHOUSE on the other. Albums catering to the worst aspects of pampered youth injected with a distorted awareness of existence versus albums that were playing with life energy forces (or might as well have been). And as we all know the former unfortunately was prevalent while the latter was limited to various small enclaves of kids whose minds definitely were on the right track. Hence "lost".

Things were sure swimmingly swell for the former, but the latter got by (and was the true harbinger of future success) if he, like I said earlier, knew where to look. And at times the enlightened moments did peek up from the haze of an FM radio that might have contributed to the Lost Generation's rise but cut them off cold as the seventies "progressed" (remember when free form meant you could hear the Deviants and Flamin' Groovies in between Crosby Stills and Whatever That High-Cheekboned Cube's Name Was?  FM radio really was that universal in its tastes until the Pantsiosization of the form eventually got hold in the mid-seventies) and the cool sleek darkness seemingly had a bright and antiseptic light shined upon it. People who claim to be "in the know" often dismiss the early-seventies but it was a time that high spirits like T. Rex and Alice Cooper rose from their catacombs and helped make existence a whole lot more pleasurable.

Like I said, there were small enclaves of the cool all over the United States and perhaps this entire planet of ours. Sheesh, if Communist-controlled Czechoslovakia could produce a total Detroit rock primitive attack like Umela Hmota you knew that this power was a lot stronger than anyone would have thought. 

What killed it? The inevitable fractures and the general high energy drive turning into a jaded miasma. The more astute probably saw it coming around the time punk rock sorta shifted into new wave which some say became a brand name more than a movement. Not totally sure of that but for me the demise of the New Lost Generation can be recognized by the final closure of Max's Kansas City (the Sainted Mecca) late-December '81 and by the prophet Lester Bangs' unexpected but somehow fitting demise a good four months later. After that I for one, bred on the fury that was being churned for the previous X # of years, felt adrift looking for some sort of light which I found rumbling during the middle portion of that hideous decade. The arrival of groups like the Scientists and other Antipodean efforts soon to burn out into oblivion inspired me enough to even crank out a crudzine to pick up the loose pieces and chronicalize my own musical lusts and obsessions. I mean, with punk rock turning punque to the point where the entire movement went 180 from healthy cynicism to a radical altruistic froth that makes the original hippies look well balanced in comparison, SOMEBODY HAD TO!!!

Casually thumbing through a by-now ancient issue of ROCK NEWS as well as reading the Peter Laughner box set book while listening to choice sides from that particular collection brought this rambling yet etapoint diatribe on. Of course it has been hiding within my psyche ready to break out like ringworm but sheesh, sometimes the yearning to be young and born a good five/ten earlier than I was and front and center for the under-the-underground does form one of those gagging lumps in the throat. Makes me feel more'n just sad that I'm an old shit and far away as possible from the birth of the sound, feeling and direction that used to keep me alive, at least spiritually. But thankfully it flashes me back to those days, without the bad memories of school, people, life... Sheesh, can you believe that for the people who were in the right place at the right time life was actually this good?

But after all of the above's said and done, would you consider Peter Laughner the Fitzgerald of this Lost Generation and Lester Bangs the Crosby or vice-versa? As usual you won't even bother giving me any of your needed insight.

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Speaking of on-the-ball sixties/seventies nonconformists who were abused and forgotten for their offensive and thus healthy natures, who woulda thought that it's been fifty years since PUNK MAGAZINE made its debut? Not only that but that the publication exists in the here and now??? I sure wouldn't have, but stranger things have gone down in this world of ours so just about anything is possible, and in good ways as well.

Got the last two issues recently and well like, if you was a fan of it way back when you're sure to be a fan of it in the here and now. The mag ain't as "scabrous" as it used to be back in the seventies when offensiveness was fun and oftentimes mandatory (sheesh, even Adny Shernoff seems all shame shame shamed by the things he used to write!) but these new PUNKs sure are worth the time and trouble (not much of either, actually) to get hold of. 

The twenty-third issue has a whole slew of information on a few current day punk rock groups that I never heard of which is no surprise considering how my interest in most all of these groups had dropped off ages back. Not that any of this really matters to me because given how most of these acts seem rather flopsadoodle when compared with the punks of the sixties and seventies or at least too late to do any good, I'm glad that they are up and about contributing something to this pitiful world of ours. Sure it's all a case of too little too late, but at least their hearts are in the right place.

The most recent one's devoted to the boho side of New York history complete with an article on the Fugs (who were always punk rock anyway), the beats (great article in that it has that personal howdoyoudo feeling that the better personalist writers out there seem to have) and....more current punk rock groups who I sure hope ain't "punque" one bit! It turns out that this issue of PUNK is a joint effort with a much newer magazine called MANI which I think is a groovesome twosome idea even if I for the life of me know nothing about what that other mag is supposed to be.

Only real bouef...no tasteless cartoons that are offensive and bound to get the goats of the vast array of Affluent White Female Liberals (AWFL's) out there. I love how that stuff gets a whole lot of people into offended mode, especially when these same people are the most put-offing specimens to walk the face of this planet of ours.

You want 'em? Try 219 E. 10th St., Suite 4D, New York City, NY 10003 and maybe John Holmstrom will autograph your magazine like he did mine.

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While I'm on the subject of rock 'n periodicals well...it seems as if Brad Kohler unleashed on us his first issue of DUMB AND READY PIGMEAT only yesterday and now he's got another one already out!!! The cudzine revolution continues with this effort done by somebody with obviously a whole lot of time to do nothing but jack off, and although I know that idle hands are the devil's workshop I wouldn't have expected anything to come out of Satan's printing press along these lines. This next-to-debut issue's got a hunk of Jim Shepard of Vertical Slit fame's autobiography and a review of Spacemen 3 and I get the feeling you will like it. Enlarge the cover picture and get all the information you need on how to obtain your own copy.

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Interesting fact I heard about Rudolph Grey...I am told that he keeps a picture of Stephen King on his wall for inspiration. He figures if that jerk can make it big then anyone can! Really sweet, hunh?

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While I'm at it let me say that I love the way this country is tearing itself apart and not just at the seams, especially the way you see protesters on a frothing rampage as if someone tied wet leather straps to their testicles really tight which is maddening enough but just wait until those strips dry and REALLY sets 'em on a suicidal rampage! Scrotal leather binding of the mind so-to-speak. I only hope I live long enough to see the big comeuppance that will result in an entirely new nation, hopefully with me at the helm (I mean, who else will there be to pick up the pieces?).

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FANZINE WANT LIST --- TOTAL OBSCURITIES (IN FACT, THERE IS DOUBT THESE EVEN EXIST!) MOST DEFINITELY NEEDED!!! PHOTOCOPIES ACCEPTED! WILL PAY BACK ISSUES FOR THESE!!!!! (Also peruse some of the earlier want lists on this blog which more or less are still filled with rare necessities.)

THE GROVE GAZETTE (1971 England --- Pink Fairies, Hawkwind, Third World War, Broughton...)

HEAVY BRITAIN (1971 --- Stackwaddy, Broughton...)

THE RAW DEAL (1971 England --- blues rock, Stackwaddy...)

HEAVY DUTY (1972 England --- Stackwaddy...)

GUERILLA ROCK (1971-1972 England --- Third World War...)

OUT DEMONS OUT! (1970-1971 England --- Broughton)

THE ELECTRIC DRUID (1971 England --- blues rock, Groundhogs...)

DO IT! (England 1971 --- Pink Fairies)

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Time for the reviews, and I managed to scrape up a few since the last "major" posting a few weeks back. Thanks again to Bob Forward and Paul McGarry for the donations.

Asgard-TRIVIALITIES ONE-SIDED LP (Rise Above Records, 341 Archway Rd., London N6 5AA England)

It's sure swell that a whole passel of heretofore unknown recordings from various seventies under-the-underground rock 'n roll acts are finally coming to light, and given how dank-like rock music has been for quite along time the more of these discoveries the better. Here's a rather recent entty, a one-sided acetate in fact, from an English trio who made some inroads into the bright lights of rock music success but unfortunately flopped. Given the Marvel Age of Comics minded throngs who cluttered up England at the time it's no wonder they were named Asgard, three up-and-comers were pretty good even though at times their obvious Nice influences seem to get the better of them.

But don't let that scare you off totally, for in between the stylish organ riffs you can hear a hint of "96 Tears" trotted out, and these guys ain't irksome like  a good portion of these seventies prog groups could get showing off all of their "talents" for dorks who confused slick playing and tastefulness with good music. In fact Asgard come rather close in spirit to krautrock obscurities  Ainigma and Siloah in that there's somewhat of a garage band spirit in their approach that makes this effort somewhat palatable. Some Canterbury moves can be discerned, and who wouldn't want to listen to an early-seventies rock act who claimed the Velvet Underground as a major influence (you can tell that my buttons are being pushed bigtime at the mere thought!). Nothing to play day in and day out, but still suitable for an occasional musical romp when you want something different in the usual mix.

The sound is great too with none of those crackly pops you usually hear on these ancient acetates. That's definitely a miracle considering how the disc this release was taken from was found in disarray in the drummer's garage and had to me meticulously glued together.

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Can-LIVE IN PARIS '73 2 CD-r set (originally on Spoon Records)

Reviewing something like this live rarity can become somewhat redundant, and in my hands they usually do. But to try and break away from the usual high-fiving hosannas maybe I should just tell you that I really like this set which some would consider was captured at Can's height. But between you and me, can we really know what that height was? Damo Suzuki is naturally in fine form yabbering his indecipherable talking in tongues while Michael Karoli once again proves why all of those English punk rock guitarists were were getting their best moves from him. And Irmin Schmidt must have been the John Cale of the act what with his accomplished yet garage band performance while Holger Czukay and Jaki Liebezeit make primitive rhythms sound so advanced you thought they were recorded in outer, not inner space. Which you all knew, but I have to fill this review up with SOMETHING eh?

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Kluster-ERUPTION LP (Bureau B Records, Germany)

Can't find my Cee-Dee of this so I thought this was a good excuse to get hold of the vinyl version which suits me fine since I have more access to my records than I do those shiny tea coasters these days. But hey, whether in Cee-Dee or vinyl form this German electro-acoustic music is definitely a sound of resensification that tingles those nerve ends just as well now as they did back when I first introduced you to this breed of stew ages back. Clanking rhythm mix with Varese electronics and even some Sun Ra flashes thrown in, and if you (like me) got hell playing Xenakis during your teenbo days wait 'til the folk (or at least your grandbastards) get an earload of this! 

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AME Son-CATALYSE CD-r burn (originally on BYG Actuel Records, France)

It ain't like I was anxiously awaiting grooving down to this particular effort considering just how progressive rock ain't my kind of poison unless its German and then its krautrock and not prog. Naturally I was right given AME Son's debt to the fruitier aspects of the musical quest...oh, some of this is actually pretty good but the Jethro Tull-inspired moments (of which there are more'n just a few) sure shy this away from being some early-seventies punk rock masterpiece that I'm continually on the look out for .Y'know, the kind that got European reviewers to draw parallels between those kinda groups and the Stooges, and only the most on-target of o-minds were writing about 'em in such glowing terms back then. Nothing I'd recommend you buying when there are more important things like suppositories you need in your measly existence.

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The Guess Who-LIVE AT ELECTRIC LADYLAND CD-r burn 

I know I shouldn't be listening to this radio show that was first broadcast a good 51 years back...y'know, "American Woman" and all that. I once told a Canadian that I didn't really cozy up to this group if only because of that song and he did not understand why. I told him what if some group came on the radio singing "Canadian woman...you're ugly, you stink, nyah nyah nyah"...like, what would you do? He asked "what?" and I said "BURN DOWN THE RADIO STATION, THAT'S WHAT!" I don't think he quite understood but then again I don't think any of you readers understood a thing I've written since I began my illustrious career even though for the life of me I can't imagine ANYONE being that stupid..

Anyhow keeping all of that anti-Amerigan blah out of the way (like they don't need our ghetto scenes...have any of you been to Toronto lately???) I gotta say that this FLAVOURS-era Guess Who is what I'd call pretty interesting, engaging, rocking and dareIsay captivating. Eclectic too with some jazzy moves here and non-gagging pop elements there. Sleek harmonies too. At times maybe this is way too slick for the ears of the everyday BLOG TO COMM reader (if there really is one) but what would you expect from a multimillion dollar group on the brink of total annihilation anyway? 

Sure there are tight harmonies and bouncy rhythms but I'm sure you would have been hearing the exact style of music being  played by a bunch of outliers at CBGB at the exact same time. It's steady pop rock, hard and swinging at times, and although this ain't something I'd wanna play consistently for a long period of time I gotta admit that the tunes here beat a lot of what was happening on the radio (AM & FM) at the time. After hearing "Long Gone" with its hard rock swatted spider melody (ruined by the drum solo) well, I'll forget "American Woman" at least until the next great depression.

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THE PRIME MOVERS BLUES BAND CD-r burn (originally on Modern Harmonic Records)

Here's some more of the Erlewine brothers and Iggy's mid-sixties blues band doing it down and home-like dirty just like on their other Cee-Dee that I can't find in my collection for the life of me. You all know that I'm not what you'd call an aficionado of the blues like a whole lot of them ethnic white urban types who try their darndest to be Wafrican Americans, but that doesn't mean that I can't show solidarity with all of those Caucasoids who like to appropriate black moves, or at least do it in their own melanin-deprived way. Naturally the standard Iggy fan knows all about this (and his showstopping rendition of "I'm a Man" that wrap things up) and naturally most of them would prefer the Stooge as he's been presenting himself since '69, but for those who want to dig in deeper this is a good 'un.

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The Kidney Brothers/Peter Laughner CD-r burn

I coulda sworn I reviewed this long ago, but then again as you all know I swear a whole lot. This burn begins with Robert and Jack Kidney of 15-60-75 notoriety doing an acoustic blues that really helps soothe the savage manboobs. Nothing at all as raucous as the Numbers but quite good (and avoiding of the usual pratfalls) considering white people did this. The Laughner recordings might have been taken from some German radio broadcast or at least the gal announcing it sounds rather Ilsa-esque, but it's a mix of stuff that's been out for ages. If you're any sort of true rock 'n roll obsessive you heard it all before and a million times at that. You'll want to hear it again and again because as we all should know a new Peter Laughner's not coming our way anytime soon. I mean, we've had bad luck with some of the new Velvet Undergrounds and new Stooges who have.

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Even though I'm an independently wealthy sorta guy who doesn't have to worry about the bills getting paid and where my next snack is coming from, I would LOVE to get back all of the money (and more!) that I frittered away putting these back issues of BLACK TO COMM out. You all do know that I didn't have to put 'em out and that you didn't have to buy them, but considering that I did release them out maybe you should be considerate and do things right and just on your end. Anyway I've got 'em and you need 'em and like Kim Fowley once said, "that is that".