Hope everything's going bananas and rice with all of you regular BLOG TO COMM fans and followers! Thankfully life has become somewhat peachy keen around these parts (due to the tundra-like weather there's lots of funtime reading and music listening time on hand) as they should be for you too, at least if you're one of the few who's not on my naughty list. Otherwise well, what could I care if you fall off a log, hopefully a sequoia.
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Things have been happening at a rather fast pace as of late haven't they? I tried to be all up-to-date and current events but by the time I penned something said happening was older than me news and thus got the ax. For example I had a nice paragraph or two all set and ready to go regarding former CNN token black and gay (token for being both) host Don Lemon (who got fired because hey, there are more'n enough black and gay hosts to go around these days) and his involvement in one of those church stormings that the haughty liberal types seem to be all gung ho for as long as they're the ones doing it. Surprisingly enough, for once the police did their job arresting the evildoers at hand, and believe it or not but Lemon actually got arrested with the rest of the miscreants involved which is a shock considering well, even ex-CNN black and gay hosts never seem to get in trouble for things like this! Of course the guy was all over the boob tube defending himself and I really doubt that he will suffer for his dastardly deeds but still, it was nice to see the authorities stand up and do what they should have been doing for ages at least this once!
Naturally like anyone would have expected the story fizzed out faster than one of Lemon's sex acts. Tends to be the case with these sagas where good things happen to normal people and bad things to the usual brothers in butt though still, as a result I am stuck with a perhaps not-so-funny image I had AI conjure up showing Lemon's place in one of those tough prisons that still weren't tough enough to prohibit Richard Speck from getting his hormone shots. I'll print it below anyway even though, as you can tell, AI sure has a long way to go (I mean, shouldn't Lemon be smiling??? And that is supposed to be Lemon in case you didn't know because AI sure didn't):
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And what else is happening other than the frigid weather that we in the tri-state area have been inundated with these past few weeks? Yeah, things are creeping around here to which I say hooray since it gives me some time to settle back and recharge my batteries (otherwise known as goofing off) and ooze my "inner child" (what'm I talkin' about...my OUTER child!) back to age three where it belongs. Believe-you-me, I can't wait for the day when I can once again be that happy turdler type who knew when the cartoons were on, hid from the mailman, realized that dogs were our closest friends, grabbed stuff off the shelves when seated in the shopping cart, yelled for mom when I needed wiped... Well, at least I wouldn't mind returning to some of those things even though I get the sinking feeling there's gonna be a day when some underpaid harridan's gonna be changing my diapers in some dilapidated old folks home. Hope I split this world before it goes that far...
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I ought to...let me change that...I BETTER (since I doubt anyone else will) mention the recent passing of former Sister Ray/Room 101 guitarist Mark Hanley because I get the sneakin' suspicion that a few of you haven't heard. Mark really was one of the good ones, not only a great guitarist but a guy who not only treated this humble opinion-spewer like a human being despite my naturally autistic self. But even if he acted like the rest of you and gave me the what for who could deny that the guy was one fellow who helped (or at least tried) to get some much needed musical attitude back into this saggy sorry definitely anti-rock & roll area.
I do feel somewhat all gosh golly having known Hanley, a guy who was so gracious that he even took some time to talk records and such to me one day when I was visiting his pad when his wife was kicking him out! Maybe I should have helped him pack up but you all know how much I hate physical work and besides, I was having too much fun looking through the guy's record collection and talking music with him. Sheesh, while everyone of you was going outta your way to treat me like the biggest load of number two imaginable, Mark actually treated me like some sort of equal. Perhaps he was being condescending to my subhuman cranial abilities but whatever, he was a guy who didn't turn.
Mark even got some space in the first issue of my very own crudzine back when his pre-Sister Ray group Edge City put out a cassette, one that I'm going to have to dig out one of these days and see if it still plays. Whatever, given how the loco media have undoubtedly ignored his demise I figure the man deserves something more'n just the usual passing mention.
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| Edge City...Mark Hanley on far left. |
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Big heaping hunk thanks to INSP for finally reading this blog and taking my advice to run HAVE GUN, WILL TRAVEL weeknights at seven. HAVE GUN... or "Palladin" as some would call it definitely was an important series from the classic age of boob tubedom that along with GUNSMOKE and THE RIFLEMAN really succeeded in putting the big bite into the western genre and tensing it up manyfold. Yes, HAVE GUN, WILL TRAVEL was one great big ball of nerve-twisting horse drama that's sorely needed at least in my sometimes Quinlanesque existence and who knows, maybe some of you regular readers who actually take my opinions as gospel truth will want to tune in yourselves. It ain't like this series is being rerun on broadcast television during the early evening hours like it would have been sixtysome years back (and should be done today!) but I ain't complainin'.
As for the show itself, I find it rather rollercoaster-y with some bright episodes intermingled between fair and even downright flatliner ones. Still, as far as dishing out that late-fifties "adult western" style that separated the men from the Giddyup Horsie fare HAVE GUN works out pretty durn well. Now if I can only get the memories of Richard Boone visiting that boy brothel in Melbourne during the filming of KANGAROO out of my head.
***My current fave tee-vee commercial : the Cinnamon Toast Crunch spot where a rogue cereal piece keeps dismembered Crunch squares—complete with eyes and horrified expressions—stored in his refrigerator Dahmer‑style. The jerk-y stop motion look adds to the creepiness of it all. Surprisingly good in that pushes my love for bad taste button sorta way.
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Now what you've been waiting for (hah!). Bought most of these if you can believe it although Paul McGarry gave me the Johnny Thunders solo burn (what else?) and Robert Forward sent me the F/i one. Once again the usual past glories are being written up because frankly, are there any glories today???
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Wow, another milking from the legendary Skydog brand featuring a whole load of numbers that we've all heard for years but eh, it's not too bad hearing them again. Most all of the better Skydog efforts are sampled here as well as a few of the newer signings (newer meaning turn of the century I surmise) that I am not familiar with one iota. Of those, The Michelle Gun Elephant sound like pumped up Dolls, Atom Rhumba Velvets punk funk, the Streetwalking Cheetahs somewhat new unto gnu wave but they would have sounded WONDERFUL in 1979, Sour Jazz more/less late-seventies NYC tuff, and Richmond Sluts the Dolls playing Chris Montez's "Let's Dance". Not a terrible way to spend an afternoon by any means!
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Some of you older fanablas might remember when this Thunders/Kramer joint venture was getting a whole load of under-the-underground press during the 70s/80s cusp. The mere sight of them in the pages of THE NEW YORK ROCKER instilled a whole lot of joy and hope for those of us who were still big on that past + present = future equation that was a pretty big part of punk rock ideology. There was a whole lotta hope and promise with this meeting of minds but the group ended in a flash and we hadda wait at least five years before any recorded efforts began to see the light of day.
Now those various releases of a definitely bootleg variety are good, especially the one recorded live at Max's Kansas City that has that weird guy in the audience warbling along, but real deal fans will definitely want this somewhat (six-years-old in this form) release featuring choice bits from some Detroit and Toronto gigs. Songs are typically Thunderian in that hazed way that he performed throughout his career, and Kramer gets to warble "Ramblin' Rose" to please all of those old MC5 fans who were front and center since the sixties. Not only that but let me warn you that all of you precious petunias are going to wilt once you get yet another earfulla "Just Because I'm White"! Mind if I watch?
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While we're on the subject, I must admit that I am somewhat surprised that Thunders was together enough to still make music with such a solid drive this late in his career. These are surprisingly entertaining tunes emanating from a pair of live broadcasts that still have a lot of that old Heartbreakers spirit, without the sound of them falling apart in front of you that is. Nothing that I'm going to be spinning until I become wormfood, but it sure is great hearing some unadulterated mid-seventies styled punk rock back before the whole genre seemed to become hippie-fied beyond repair!
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Know nada as to whether this thing is legit or if someone scarfed up some rare tapeage and released it themselves but whatever, THE MANNY MARTINEZ TAPES show the original pre-hardcore Misfits at the very beginning when the group were reduced to electric sync-piano, bass guitar and drums. Because of the WHITE LIGHT/WHITE HEAT fidelity this 'un works even better what with Glenn Danzig's vocals seemingly aping Bryan Ferry as his piano provides perfect syncopatic (what else?) backdrop while drummer Manny Martinez and bassist Jerry Caifa get the beat going to propel the pulse even more. Obviously I am reminded of the Seeds. Dunno where you can snatch a copy, but I got mine through ebay and you might too.
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Didn't have much hope for this one. Y'know, with me keeping in mind the whole Rough Trade English Working Class Down With The Struggle Attitude From An Upper Middle-Class Vision that I'm sure the Raincoats were hosanna's for given the crowd they hung 'round with. Despite all of that dated neo-socialism, ODYSHAPE's a good spin even with everything that makes up the Raincoats' entire introverted feminist reason for being. Spinning this 'un years after having heard any of these songs reminded me of a number of things including how much I was becoming less enchanted with all of those Rough Trade records during the mid-eighties, but the weird time signatures and exotic percussive colorings does make this an album that I can wrap more than just my psyche around. It ain't rock 'n roll, but you could say the same thing about THE MARBLE INDEX. Biggest letdown : the version of "And Then It's OK" which sounded so beautiful on a 1979 live tape of mine but turns up quite jumbled here.
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Robert Forward tells me that these recordings are bootlegs which raises the question as to who would want to bootleg F/i in the first place. But eh, if you liked the sort of sound F/i was producing ever since the early-eighties you definitely will enjoy these electronic blasts that seem to concentrate on musique concrete on the first disque and Hawkwind-inspired repeato-riffs on the other. I could even draw comparisons twixt F/i and a certain act of renown who seemed to be the best kept secret in rock 'n roll until jerks like me discovered them, but I won't. A must have for those of you who (like me) still believe that the electronic growl of the likes of Chrome, Throbbing Gristle and various other catatonic cantata mongers were the end all as far as the entire history of sound (recorded or not) went.
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You can buy your back issues of BLACK TO COMM here or you can get 'em for highly exaggerated prices on Ebay, whenever one happens to come up that is. If you are one of the many who want one yet don't exactly feel like filling my coffers because of your hidebound and rigid belief systems well, why don't you swallow your pride and get one directly from the source. I mean, I'm sure you've swallowed a whole lot worse stuff in your lifetime ifyaknowaddamean...
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