Thursday, February 21, 2008

Down But Not Out.....New Reviews For You's To Peruse!

Well I reckon I've done gone & pissed away whatever readership I'd built up here on Siltblog by bein so delinquent. Couldn't be helped none, that's just how the cards was dealt. It ain't everyday your girlfriend inherits a huntin lodge, so when MG got word that her Grandpa Jinks had left the family place in the Pocono's to us, we hightailed it up there to see what she got. We'd heard tell of the place from family stories but ain't no one mentioned nor visited there in a coon's age. Jinks & his 2nd wife'd done moved to Florida years ago while the rest of'em held tight in western Kentucky & thereabouts so this grand old chalet of yore was sittin up in them mountains, abandoned & forgotten. And it was in some state when we's got there, let me tell you! Once we got rid of all the critters, I got to settin about fixin the structural foundation. I was lucky 'cause there weren't much snow to speak of then, but once I got to orderin drywall, new tiles & all the rest've the labor intensive nut's 'n bolts of the operation, it got to comin down in buckets. I got hit with delays, was even stuck livin up there for a while too. It was like The Shining in a way, not as luxurious (yet) as that manor, nor was there any ghosts to speak of near's I could tell. Course, after a couple days of bein isolated I'd have welcomed a Lloyd as much for the Jack Daniels as the company. I finally got the hang of it & am now pretty much in the final stretch of construction. The drive to & from the Fishtown has done sapped me of just about all creativity & by the time I get home & settled in, my whole body aches. But I've done near rebuilt that place by myself & once it's finished, it sure is gonna be somethin to crow about. You go & fix up a dilapidated hunting lodge from near scratch-ALONE- in the middle of winter & tell me it's a walk in the park. I don't think so! Once spring hits & the thaw comes we's set to do the finish carpentry, paintin, crown moldin, get the floors brought this fall I'll be a man of all seasons. I intend to be the master gamesman, takin on all comers. And let me tell you this; there ain't nothin more satisfyin than a saddle of bear! Even the old lavender chef himself, James Beard, knowed that much. I'm gonna make one of them Brazilian meat platters look like a Cub Scout cookout. But I got a little ways to go & since I finally got me some downtime, here's a few records what I listened to that I figured I'd pass on to you;

This new lp by Vizusa come just yesterday so I figured, why wait? It's on a label called Seres & if they's got other stuff out-either the band or label-I don't reckon I know about it. Anyway, this Vizusa lp has got a pretty cool heavy creep vibe to it, like a less self indulgent Jarboe outing, or a more Goth-warped Magik Markers. Then again, if I walked into a room while this was playin & you told me it was a Beme Seed record I wouldn't blink either. Ding! Check'em out at

Another in a series of save-the-tape recordings has hit the turntable, this one by lost in time band, The Drills. Hailin from Seattle, these guys was definitely from the other side of the Punk tracks & I mean even further down the pike than Helen Keller, Solger, Fartz or Extreme Hate. Their manta was 'take it through the wall' & boy do they! They resided in a place called the Death House & at the time of these recordings the main fellas was long in the tooth, bein 30 & 32 yrs old. So I guess Ted Falconi didn't have nothin on these geezers. The Drills didn't waste no time on stance, politics, society, they went straight for the heart. The result was an astounding crud-fi racket complete w/chatterin vocals, signifying nothin. It's killer. Had this come out in real time it'd be as sought after as Opus, Billy Wizard or them Queers 7"ers. But it didn't & you don't have to wait for a boot or try & find it on a Killed By Death comp. At least not yet. Drop a line to & perhaps your prayers will be answered.

The Columbus Discount label has released a trio of new vinyl that have all made a lasting impression, one of which predates the label itself. Recorded mostly throughout the 80's (one track bein from '74) Tommy Jay's Tall Tales Of Trauma spent many yrs as an acorn (that's Woodbe code for cassette-Capt'n Siltbreeze) before the CDR crew seen fit to let it grow into the majestic oak it always has been. Some may know Tom's work as a collaborator 'n agitator to Mike Rep & I'd bet there's even some of you's what recall his True Believers 7", 'Accept It' on Rep's Old Age label from the early 80's. You might say Tall Tales is an extension of that record, albeit a more personal endeavor. Throughout the yrs of hearin it on tape I'd always looked at it like one man's attempt to make his own version of 'Berlin'. In the world of Lou Reed fans that's a record that seems to be either loved or reviled & in the hamlet of Harrisburg, Ohio it's no secret which side of the line these guys stand behind.Take away the Bob Ezrin production, the maudlin, heavy handed sap & snark of Lou's amphetamine ego & hey, I'd say you got as pretty close doppelganger. There's all sort's of sweet overdubs that makes this DIY effort so protean whether they be strings, keyboards, the odd creak or a fluttering woodwind. And in the middle of it all is Tom's vocals & arrangements, standin hard, like a moden day Prometheus. 'Tall Tales' ain't exactly the fire stolen from Zeus, I mean, Lou's 'Berlin', but it was sort've hidden from most humans for many yrs. Thankfully the format it has so richly deserved now claims it as one of it's own. It's a grower that knows no limits.
Guinea Worms are a Columbus mainstay what's released a slew of cdr's through the yrs but only 1 7" I knowed about before this one come into the fold. I don't know if it's the Rep LFW 'production' but the a-side ('Box Of Records') is a solid slab of Screamin Mee Mee's styled cheeseburger sludge that slides down the gullet like a sack've of White Castles. The flip (I'm A Cobweb') is another past soundin blaster, this time conjurin up Clevo art skronkers, Modern Art Studio & it has been a long time since I thought of them. The other 7" what needs hollerin about is a new one from Necropolis. All's I remember from a debut 7" & followup lp a few yrs back was they sounded like The Adult Net or somethin. But adherin to a steady diet of Vicodin poppers & Black Label floats will most surely spin a band's direction into the hazy, black pitch of the unknown. So when I tell you's all that this 'Song For A Working Man' 7" makes'em sound like they woke up in a scrap heap once called home by a certain band on the Shove label, hopefully you'll know what I mean. How'd they get there? Write'em at & find out yourself.

Last but not least is a local release by a band what right out of the gate has laid to waste the entire current crop of Euro synth/slush Chrome extractors. FNU Ronnies ain't in no way Chrome obsessed unless you call takin a huge shit on Helios Creed's head a form of tribute. The lip moves these guys gabble forth slur around the atmosphere like a mist've toxic mold spores before dropping into the wanton wire 'n drum carnage & the whole thing sounds like a drunken Borg short-circuiting to a lethal mix of equal parts Deutch-Amerikanischen Freundschaft's debut & Wire's 'Pink Flag'. This one needs to heard to be coveted. Track'em down at; &

That's all for me right now. I gotta whole mess've other work what's callin my name. But I got lot's more to go on about, so hopefully it won't take a month to get back to you. Until then, eat more bear!


No comments: