Siltblog

Second Volume Of Vacuum Recordings Now Available!

2012-01-14T12:08:00.000-08:00

A long wait to be sure on this one, but well worth it. Second installment of archival tracks from this legendary Christchurch outfit, culled from cassette recordings circa 1978-78. For the uninformed, Vacuum were the genesis, the ground zero, the guys that forged the ChCh "sound". While the band's lifespan was short, it's members would go on to soon after form Bilders, Pin Group, Victor Dimisich Band, Scorched Earth Policy & Terminals. Before Flying Nun, before ANYTHING, there was Vacuum. These recordings are being offered up for the 1st time, ever. Tracks are as follows;

Side A
1-Walking Slow (Dux de Lux, 1979)
2-Born & Bled (Barbadoes Street "the cemetery", 1979)

Side B
3-Remember Breaking Up (Dux de Lux, 1979)
4-Skulls (Oxford Terrace, 1978)

This is a one time 7" ep edition of 300. Prices are as follows;

USA-8$ ppd
Canada-10$ ppd
Elsewhere-12$ ppd

Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

A Tarheel By Any Other Name Would Smell As Sweet.....Bad Boy Butch Batson's 'Spare Parts' Lp

2011-12-06T08:26:00.000-08:00

I got a cable the other day. I know! Who sends them anymore? Better yet, whose got the parts what to receives'em? Leave it to Fiona Finesse to stir up trouble though. She ain't never gotten over me. Not to mention a bloodhound's nose. The persistence to trackin me down is bafflin. So she sends this telex what come in over the wires to my Romanian landlady, Mrs. Valduva, downstairs. Probably got the only workin telex machine in the state. And Fiona was somehow onto it. So I hears these light thumps on my door & I knowed it was Mrs. V (see; her little hands is riddled w/arthritis so she can't knock. Instead, she rocks back 'n forth, bumpin the door ever so delicately w/the top of her head. It's like code, but not). I open up & she thrust the paper at me. "From da match-ine", she said evenly, "for you". I awkwardly took the cable, havin no idea what it was at 1st, & thanked her for the hospitality. She waved me off, turned as if to leave, then slowly came around to say "It for years since I hear the little voice.I think maybe it is the tzwika speaking. but no, is match-ine. Ah,is a sign! I tink from you wife. So you will leave now, yes"? I laughed & smiled at her. I said, no, I didn't have no clue what she'd just handed me. There weren't no wife (in the Christian sense) & I'd let her know when I was fixin to head out. She waved me off again & headed back down to her parlor.

So I take a gander at this message;

*ATTN WOODBE
*URGENT

*HEY WOODBRAIN YOU CAN'T SHAKE ME BUT AM WILLING TO
*RESPECT YOUR SPACE. I SEE YOU ARE WRITING AGAIN. YOU
*NEED TO HEAR SPARE PARTS BY BAD BOY BUTCH BATSON. IT
*IS SO FAR UNDERGROUND YOU MIGHT HAVE TO CHECK UP YOUR
*ASS TO FIND A COPY. THERE IS SOMETHING INHERENTLY CARNAL
*THAT BRINGS BACK MEMORIES OF OUR AFTERNOON SPENT UNDER
*THE CASKET WAREHOUSE. REMEMBER WE WILL ALWAYS HAVE BURNT *CORN.

*FF
*654321 FU

What a charmer! And to think I'd all but forgot our trip to Burnt Corn. Young lovers tryin to sate they's passion in an antique village. The things you conjure up ,grrrrrr! But that was a long time back. I don't think I'd bust a nut down in the moss 'n mud for nobody nowadays. And she don't seem to recall that copperhead. She's lucky I spotted it when I did. Rat snake my ass! If that thing'd bit her in the snizz, she'd still be swollen tighter than a Christmas goose.Women! They likes to pick 'n choose the memories, don't they? But she has a damn fine set've ears (among other things), so I set about gettin a copy of the lp she was hippin me to.

Procurin this'Spare Parts'album weren't so hard. Funny thing about it, say's it's material from 1998. It's hard to know if it's an lp what's been sittin around all them yrs, or if someone ponied up the snuff to see the material finally realized some 13 yrs later. Either way it's a humdinger. Batson's one of them enigmatic 'real people' types. Your glad he's out there (& OUT THERE) but at the same time, it's comfortin to know you ain't likely to cross paths. Like the best of'em, the battle between tenacity & narcissism is hand to hand, so the results is exemplary in a combination of knotty weirdness, inspired wildness & at times,just plain hilarious. Imagine a cross between Butch Willis & Alvaro. Or if Bruce Cole went & made a record w/Smegma. It's that kind of whack. And as such, a dead on keeper + one for the ages. Comes in an appropriately designed silk screened jacket + a lil booklet w/pics, lyrics & personnel. Stop on over to http://www.tediumhouse.com/ http://www.mimaroglumusicsales.com/
or http://www.fusetronsound.com/ to procure copies. Then go direct to http://www.badboybutch.com/index.html to find out all you'll ever need to know about the man. I'm sure it's quite a story. Just look at him! How could it not be?

A Bear Taking A Dump Asked A Rabbit.....More Limerick Reviews!

2011-12-04T13:56:00.000-08:00

It has been an age since I last heard from Lester 'Ding Dong' Dell but he ain't lost a lick of his limerick genius.The thing about ol Ding Dong is this; he's much more fun to read than to hear. 'Cause he also SPEAKS in limerick form all the time too. So when I says he's a genius, I'm bein nice is all. That's how he's wired. Can't help it. Same as a retard. It's a fine line I'm told. Anyways, enjoy:

True Sons Of Thunder-Spoonful Of Seedy Dudes lp (Jeth-Row)

True Sons Of Thunder duly impale
On Jeth-Row Records this does in fact hail
The proto crud is real swimmin
It's like "rob all the men & fuck all the women!"
And behind them only winners will sail

jethrowrecords@yahoo.com

Cheater Slicks-Gutteral lp (Columbus Discount)

CDR is a label so kind
Sent the live Cheater Slicks record, oh my, what a find!
What more can I say?
They bring it all day
If you don't dig it then eat my behind

http://columbusdiscountrecords.com/

Degreaser-Bottomfeeder lp (NGL)

Degreaser's got one in the can
Who amongst us is not yet a fan?
It weaves & it bobs
As it rectally robs
A young Sea Scout from being a man

easterbilbyrecords@gmail.com

Hank IV-Bellyful Of Slugs/Cold Equation 7" (S-S)

Hank IV have a new 7" platter
And on it they couldn't sound fatter
Twas it Anton LaVey
Who was so fond to say
"With cockrings it's mind over matter"

http://s-srecords.com/

Black Humor-Love God, Love One Another lp (Superior Viaduct)

The Black Humor reissue is here
So scabrous, pugnacious and clear
It just goes to show
In case you don't know
That perversion is not always queer

http://www.superiorviaduct.com/blackhumor/

Inside Every Sane Citizen Is A Madman Waiting To Run Free.....Devin Gary & Ross, 'Four Corners' 12" EP!

2011-12-02T15:24:00.000-08:00

Arbitrary Signs is a newish label up to NYC which has been feedin heavy on a diet of unspecified peat tannins what's then oozes out it's various compounds into a succulent variety've aural alkaloids. The topper thus far's this 'Four Corners' 12" ep from the trio've Devin Gary & Ross. Now I could write great tract's of bubblin prose or gush long trails've fanboy tears as to my eternal admiration for one them's array've counter culture heroics. And I've only just been hipped to the other 2 feller's eye-poppin activities 'n it's fair to say I am lookin to gain citizenship into they's kung fu kingdoms post haste. Yeah, it's all warm 'n fuzzy, so before I collapse into spasms of psychonautic ecstasy, let it be known that Devin Gary & Ross has hybridized some kind of skewered ambio-ack that combines slow braised Pink Floyd proto-psych with chicken-fried Hirsche nicht aufs Sofa snorts awash in bucket've saucy, piquant Morricone-esque atmosphere. Even the Marty Robbins cover makes you's feel like it's a sunny day in a dry rubbed Colin Charteris universe. Stuffier shirts is likely to opine these amigos tres is the greatest embodiment of artist's to moonlight in underground NYC since De Maria Conrad & Young caged suds at Cedars. Which in all likelihood means the name, 'Velvet Underground' is right around the proverbial corner. But I ain't got no gallery to plug. And I'm about as far away from SoHo as I am Samoa. But I don't bear any ill will to curators. Hell no, in fact I damn near one myself! And everybody loves the Velvet Underground, right? But that's a whole 'nother hog on a spit. In closin I wanna say this 'Four Corners' ep is one of the finest releases these ears have had the pleasure to come across this yr. It's ergoline madras of whimsy, space 'n karma is as enchantin to the senses as they is to the soul. 300 pressed & a wise owl says they ain't many left. If you possess a mind that is prone to forward thinkin, waste no time & beam down here; peterfmeehan@gmail.com

Related addendum;

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qqj36mJb0VI&noredirect=1
http://www.garypanter.com/site/
http://www.rossgoldstein.com/

The Plunder From Down Under.....New Oz 7" Reviews!

2011-12-01T07:40:00.000-08:00

Not unlike the cyclical swarm of-say-the Cicada, every decade or so there's this deluge've releases what's hatched down on Terra Australis then unleashed into the world at large. And much like the clack 'n scree've said insecta, these bands kick up a whole lot've stridulation that is uniquely their own. And before you's say 'Captain Cook', it's EVERYWHERE. But a pestilence it is not. Quite the contrary. In fact, Senor Siltbreeze had a hand in some've the cultivation spawned towards the end've last decade.And he continues to keep his unique hemiptera antennae poised for any goings on via 27° 0' 0" S /133° 0' 0" E. But they's new eggs in the basket 'round the clock, now more'n ever. Ain't no way any one person/label's gonna keep up. And to that end, there's been a groundswell of newer, smaller DIY labels 'n distro's (both here & abroad)what's sprung up to fly the flag. I was tryin to explain it all to my Haitian buddy, Jean-Joe the other night over dominoes. He breeds roosters 'n sells'em around. Seems to do an alright business too. Said before he come to do it, folks'd drive as far as Okeechobee to get'em a bird. "So you see Boodbe", he explained w/a shrug, "your records & my cocks....they are not so different". We nodded in agreement. Can't says I'd ever had it put to me quite like that before, but he had a point!

Kevin Failure'd talked a blue streak about Drunk Elk afore I'd ever heard this record 'n while I reckon they's had a different approach at one time-says him-what it laid down on this 7" is alright by me. The vocal/guitar/organ sound conjures up a fetching austerity & if I didn't know it was crafted in Hobart, Tasmania durin this decade, I might've pegged'em as an MIA Z-Block entry, whose sanguine 'n subtle charms had recently been unearthed in a lost era Cardiff cupboard. But I am chuffed to know that Drunk Elk is of our time & look forward to more. And they's Pictish charms is duly noted. Contact;http://quemadarecords.blogspot.com/ for more info.

Listenin to this 7" from Muura reminds me of the time I tried to make Merzbow mow my yard. Well, it weren't mine exactly, but that's a long story, anyway, the point is he HATED bein asked to do ANYTHING. But there's no free ride on the Roland Woodbe express. You shoulda seen him; we walked down to the shed, I pointed to the mower, explained how to start it & showed approx. where to go & how much needed cut. Don't you know turned on his heel & stomped back to the house? Marched himself up the stairs 'n commenced to assemble his amps 'n noisemakers then proceeded to kicked up this squall've feedback that was just incredible! Oh brother, he was MAD! I could barely hear it over the roar of the Toro but what came through was direct, primal & heartfelt. All's of which takes me back to this Muura record. There's even passages on here where I swear I can hear some Moondog tugs in the harbor. Good crack this is & a handsome sleeve to boot. Get it via; http://www.tediumhouse.com/

And speakin've Moondog, the bunch what go by the name Space Needle has a new one fresh off the press. Maybe it's them homemade instruments they flump, but the basic 'groove' is not too far removed from Louis Hardin's ambient scapes. They's also glow in embers still smolderin from the last, great Ralph Records clambake. From this distance it's hard to say exactly who they might resemble most in that stable, but I never claimed to be no Frank Johnston. And the stellar hand screened gatefold sleeves would make the slick designers at Pore No Graphics eyes buzz out in envy. Edition of 200, hit up the band direct at; www.skyneedle.org or joel@otherfilm.org

The feller Brendon over at Negative Guest List is a busy budgie. Gots all manner've suds goin down; a fanzine, lp's, double lp's, singles, ep's, bookin shows, a bit of distro, that moustache....hey Mr. publican, gimme what he's havin! Can't say I's found no duds yet, but it did take me a minute to wrap my nog around Low Life's 'Sydney Darbs' ep. There was somethin sticky in the mix that hinted at Box Of Fish residue, but overall it moves along in very driven & dark tones what fantastically transported me back to the streets of London, circa 1982. There I tailed these 3 blokes whiles they's whispered sweet nothings into ears at Illuminated & Small Wonder, only to surrender the goods over a parsnip bundt cake (w/vegemite icing, yum) at the Crass compound. Makes sense. Shit, after all that imaginary walkin, even I was peckish! Dig this & all manner've Aussie product at; easterbilbyrecords@gmail.com

Also, these & many more releases can most likely be found via;

http://www.fusetronsound.com/
http://www.volcanictongue.com/
http://littlebigchief.bigcartel.com/
http://www.albertsbasement.net/

Deerhunting Without An Accordion.....2 New Releases From France!

2011-11-27T09:04:00.000-08:00

Pleebs 'n Pikers will no doubt piddle they's panties in infantile glee at the merest gaze upon this outfit's name. And in all honesty, that's okay. Whatever lures'em. I mean, just take a gander at the cover art. It would seem "all are welcome" is the mantra here. Besides, w/a name like Micro Penis, they's really got nothin to shy away from. 'Tolvek' is the 2nd release of brut flatulence from these canard gobblers. On it they's have journeyed past the feral channelin of Cromagnon & function as full on necromancers, conjurin up aural apparitions of Nihilist Spasm Band, MEV, Furious Pig, Comus & even the lost trumpet've Alan Shorter, mostly all at once. My copy came w/a rubber cabbage "conductor" not dissimilar to the one's brought to Earth by Hank Bain in the excellent SCTV episode known as 'Zontar'. Does this prove mankind is doomed? Buy it 'n find out. Edition of 300.
www.doubtfulsounds.info & also http://www.tediumhouse.com/

The Bruit Direct label, like any artisinal crafter've fine elixir's, the desire ain't about the macro. Rather, we's tend to be delighted by the dedicated micro results. And w/the band La Ligne Clair's 'Cheri' 12", there's versatile proof of this ethos in they's unique puddin.Perhaps it twas the grand scheme to make reggae or African hi-life, but be careful what you's ape. It has been said the Electric Eels was attemptin to fuse Bowie w/Captain Beefheart. And maybe that's what THAT sounds like. So too I'd concur w/ Mr. Bruit D that the music herein is No Wave. It's also-no Goth, no Crust, no Dub, no Thrash & no nonsense. Or maybe it's ALL nonsense. I reckon that just comes down to your penchant to dissect beauty in the marginal. La Ligne Claire excel in a mercurial galaxy where portals to Amos & Sara, 49 Americans or the Avocados (for instance) is always open & the likes of Lol Coxhill, Annette Peacock 'n Steve Beresford is looked upon as heroes. Not unlike a place I like to call, Home. This one's been a big winner in the turntable des engageant of 2011. Get it here; http://bruit-direct.org

Forbid Us Something, And That Thing We Desire.....Invisible Jukebox Seance!

2011-11-26T09:28:00.000-08:00

I can't say that I's spent much time in FLA, but at this juncture in my life, it seems like a fine place to be. The times I ain't out on the links is spent runnin the beach or swimmin for a spell, then escorting El Jeffe around to help tend to his various chores & appointments. He likes to bet them dogs too, so's there the occasional trip to the track, but most times it's just Lotto action to sate his fix. The lucky spot is some mini mart place tucked away in a tired old strip mall off Stacey St. At 1st glace it could be anywhere, but after takin it in on an almost daily basis, you get to familiarize yourself w/the particulars. There a dry cleaners, a spot what does your taxes, some sort've doctors office w/a sign what reads "All Prescription Filled, No Qustions". I assume they meant, 'Questions', but out of respect, I ain't about to ask. Next to them's is a laundromat & fixed in atween that & the Quick Stop destination is one of them mind readers places. It's got all sort've neon workin, w/a red 'n blue curtains blockin the sun light from beamin in through the front window. The front door has some large strands've tired old beads runnin across what function in a similar capacity. The flashin lights read "Tarot" "Palm Reader", "ESP", then one what's printed out from a computer proclaims 'Walk In Welcome' & another what's written by hand says "fresh empanadas" (small font too, black felt tip, very humble). Now I's always fancied the notion of someone trying to peer into my brain 'n tell me how's I'd come to be & what's just 'round the corner. But honestly, if they could really do all that, I'm afraid I'd have to kill'em afterwards, out of respect to national security & all. Some temptations you fight your whole life. But a fresh empanada? I didn't need no crystal ball to tell me THAT was in my future!
So I let myself in, rustlin through them beads & into a dimly lit parlor room. Then a thin, nasal voice got to chirpin "entrez-vous! entrez-vous"! I looked to my right & seen this birdcage w/a little green parakeet just shoutin that to beat daylight. The air mingled w/various scents've incense, cooking spices & roasted meats. Then a figure emerged from presumably a kitchen. It was a woman,all gussied up in silk 'n veils. It was hard to catch a good look, but from my vantage she seemed to resemble a cross twixt Cher & Waylon Flowers sidekick puppet, Madam.

'Welcome" she said, smiling, "Please come in, won't you"? The bird was still yappin "entrez-vous"! over 'n over when suddenly she turned & shouted "Gulliver, shup up! Halt die gosche"! And all that excitable chirpin stopped.
In a rather terse tone she said "Please do not mind my little friend. He is merely doing his job. So then" her face now soft & the smile back, "are you here for a reading"?
"If it's from a menu" I replied", "then yes ma'am, I am".
For a second she looked confused, then connected the dots. "Ah, the empanadas! I am sorry, but for customers only. Funny, you don't seem Cuban" She then went to explain that since the strip mall didn't have no take out food establishment, she was constantly gettin orders from folks what passed by on theys way to frequent the spot El Jeffe hits. Seems it's Cuban run & has the best selection of rum in the area. It got so eventually some would stop by to get they's fortunes read just to eat!. Then after a bit, they'd bartered a way to pay of a readin, but would take the empanada's in exchange. It seemed logical. Not to mention a clever way've gettin around a food servin license. In the heat & humidity, them aromas what wafted out would hang there in front like invisible cloud've deliciousness.It weren't no wonder she'd have a followin. So I said to her "No ma'am, I ain't got no Cuban in me. But I am part rattlesnake w/a hint of ginseng". She laughed & fanned her face, I thought I seen her blush a bit even. She asked my name. "Roland Seward Woodbe, ma'am". And who might I have the pleasure've speakin with"?
"I am Brunnhilde von Stulpnagel. My friends call me Bunny".
"Charmed I'm sure, Bu-"
"So" she interrupted, "you may call me Ms.von Stulpnagel".
I must've looked like the crow what swallowed a rock. She was laughin uproariously, battin her eyes, rockin back 'n forth, fannin that face. Even the bird, Gulliver, was havin a snort on me, his shrill, piercin "E-E-E-E-E-E"! laugh lendin an almost sinister tone to the set up. Finally she said "Ha, I josh. I josh you Mr. Woodbe"!. She paused to catch her breath & continued "Please, come into the kitchen. I will prepare for you empanadas. And of course, call me Bunny, ja"?

So now the ice was broken & it was time for some background. I won't go into detail, but ol Bunny seemed to have led an interesting life. We's was even around the same age, so that made it a bit easier. She said she was of German extraction-not that I couldn't tell-& I don't know what it is about them people, but they will put grapes in just about EVERYTHING. Thankfully none in my pork empanada-which was spectacular-but plenty in the side salad, combined w/red onion & arugula. It almost worked too. And she'd stuck a few on this toothpick as a garnish for the marshmallow vodka 'n Dr. Pepper what paired well. So after she'd given up a bit of her back story, it was time for moi to spill some beans. All's I said was that I was a record reviewer for a computer blog. She asked which one. I told her, "Siltblog".

In that moment her face lit up & she pounded the the counter top w/her right fist almost in reflex 'n shouted:
"Scheisse!, Gewiss, gewiss. Yes, Roland Woodbe......that name! It is you! Ack, all but forgotten. I was once an avid follower of your writing. But you seemed to devote your life to other pursuits". I explained that yes, I had on occasion put record writin on the shelf, but now's that was the top priority again. Bunny seemed very excited & it was then a bright idea passed before me.
"Say Buns, I's got some little records out to the car, any chance I could bring'em in? How about I play'em w/o sayin who they is 'n you tell me if you know or not. Game"?
That Bunny! She said not only would I not have to play'em for her to know, all she'd have to do was hold'em to spill the pertinent info. She'd close her eyes, I'd hand her a record & from there she'd tell me alls I needed to know. "Like you, Roland", she said quietly, "I have forsaken my unique talents as a clairvoyant to cater to the desires of the....Abschaum. But not today! Bring in the records! Let us do this. Sieg lieber Tod"!

And so below is the transcript of how it went down.

Kraus-A Journey Through The First Dimension 7" ep (Palto Flats)

BvS-Hmmmm, I must say, my 1st detection is smell. Yes...... a potted meat....(sniffs the air) clove, anise, the onion stinging my eyes.

RSW-A rillette maybe?

BVS-Ah! But not a conventional recipe. Very strong & singular. Does the name....Muttonbird....mean anything to you?

RSW-Yes! This artist is from New Zealand. Same's as the bird.

BvS-(head weavin side to side, hands clasped HARD on the 7") Mmmmmmmm, I see the name Ilitch....and Heldon.....but this could be a trick. No, those names precede this. Perhaps as influence....

RSW-Goddamn Bunny, that's amazing!. Your right, this is Kraus. But he sure does sound like them French fellas.

BvS- (now fully out of her trance, passes back the record) Oh, and Velvet Underground of course.

RSW-Of course. Don't leave the house without'em.

contact-http://paltoflats.bigcartel.com/artist/kraus

Atelier Mediterranee- 3 song 7" ep (Bruit Direct Disques)

BvS-Again, such smells!.....(arms fanning the air, as though to absorb an aroma)....what is with these records Roland Woodbe? This one......ack, tobacco, braised beef, bitter cherry & forest underbrush...a Bordeaux perhaps?

RSW-Well zap my zit! You nailed in Buns. This bunch is French.

BVS (undeterred, rocking back & forth, hands pressed against record) Yes.....could it be there is a.....small.....pimmel, amongst?

RSW-Haha, who knows? But I bet your thinkin of Micro Penis. Close! Damn your close.

BvS-(shouts) Quiet doofi! (resumes channeling).......there is something broken here. Something ....abnormal.

RSW-(whistles) It's said that some of the participants might be mentally challenged.

BvS (smiling slightly) Yes.....yes, you would know that. It......it is like a modern take on Lucrate Milk....more unhinged....

RSW (slaps both knees HARD & interrupts) Shit Bunny! Can't fly one past you. It's Atelier Mediterranee. Lucrate Milk....that's good. I's gonna have to remember that one.

BvS (takes a slug of marshmallow vodka straight out of the bottle) Is Paris burning?

RSW (handing her another record) No idea. But that brain of yours sure is! (laughing).

contact; store@bruit-direct.org

Woollen Kits-Maths/Out Of Town (RIP Society)

BvS-Ah, muffins!. The scent of baked blueberries. So lovely. But wait.......I see a man, he is dressed....haphazardly. I am in someplace called....Olympia.

RSW-Calvin Johnson?

BvS-Would this man wear capri pants w/a hunting cap?

RSW-Yes.

BvS-So! It is him. But only in voice. The music......I am in swinging London....it is perhaps 1984. Creation...yes... Jas-

RSW-(excitedly interrupts) Jasmine Minks! Bunzo, you are a piece of work!

BvS-Shut up idiot! This is to fool me. No.......this music is from elsewhere. Another continent. I see snakes, toads, vast desert, kabobs & pasty vegans......

RSW (shakes his head in disbelief) Right AGAIN! They's called the Woollen Kits. From Melbourne,Australia.

BvS (Visibly exhausted, she tosses the record into RSW's lap. She is sweating profusely & is feebly trying to hide a hand that belies a faint but steady palsied tremor)-Mein Gott, Roland Woodbe! I am finished with this foolishness. Gulliver! Please, let Mr. Woodbe know his time is up.

Suddenly the entire space filled w/the most penetratin voice, like a talkin fire alarm what had gone off;

Gulliver the Parakeet-'Rous, Esel! Rous! Rous! Rous, Esel! Rous! Rous!' (over 'n over, over).

You don't have to tell me twice. Plus my ears was gonna start bleedin if I didn't vamoose.I gathered my records & bid farewell. Now that was a day-spent! Even El Jeffe'd won a couple bucks on a pick-four. On the way back to the complex I's tried to tell him about that scene. He wasn't havin none of it. With the lucre won, he'd 'invested' it in a bottle've Cathaca & was hell bent to get home 'n muddle some limes. I mentioned that Bunny had a gift, that she could see the future. El Jeffe retorted "I can see the future too. And it's this car in my driveway in 10 minutes"!. And so's it came to pass. We's rolled up w/time to spare. And them Caprihina's is goin down smooth. "Faith" as they's say, "is a passionate intuition".

for Woollen Kits & other Aussie releases, contact; easterbilbyrecords@gmail.com

Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee, And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me.....Glands Of External Secretion's 'Reverse Atheism' dbl lp .

2011-11-19T09:11:00.000-08:00

The dedicated emergence of BUFMS as both a historical 'n contemporary source of neo Dadaist styled brain disembowelment has been most joyous to behold lo these past few years. From the stupendously great compendium that was the 'Induced Musical Spasticity' 4lp boxset (2009) & movin forward into the blindin light of hipster indifference, the whacked, manipulative collages they's embroider is perhaps the finest aural lysergide to be found amongst us since the goldern era of LAFMS. To wit, one need look no further than Glands Of External Secretion's 2xlp 'Reverse Atheism', which's just been released 'n whose varied landscapes of sound stitchery takes on all manner of religiosity, both real & imagined. And it ain't just the sublime duo of Manning & Glass this time neither. Ye, they have assembled a supporting cast of DOZENS to assist them in this magnum opus, the credits've those both impressed 'n enlisted readin like a freaks moderne take on 'It's Mad Mad Mad Mad World' (there must be bodies buried everywhere!-Capt'n Siltbreeze). For instance Bruce Russell, Alastair Galbraith, Patricia Rowland, Scott Simmons, Doug Pearson, shit, even Earl Kuck makes an appearance! Which proves once & for all him 'n Seymour Glass ain't the same feller. It's one of them conundrums, like for years I thought Dan Marino was just a fat suit alias for Roger Daltrey , then come that Super Bowl not long back where's they was both on screen pretty much at the same time, so's then I knowed the difference. I don't ask for much, a little proof will do. But let's not digress.
And this ad hoc patchwork've left field tinklers, tappers, tapers 'n tots tackle not only the obvious (L Rondo or Lizzy Claire P for instance) but also re-diddle the words & tuneage of Hippocrates, Roald Dahl, Osmond Brothers, God's Gift, Alejandro Jodorowsky & Flannery O'Conner to name but a few. For those what like they's room filled with layers've sound transparency, perhaps to impress or intimidate housemates or neighbors into thinkin yr legion is many, 'Reverse Atheism' is a most excellent ally in the pursuit've such chicanery. As Quinus Ennius wrote (shoeless) many moons ago 'Amicu certus in re incerta cernitur'. And who amongst us could argue with that? Even John Frum needed a buddy sometimes. Glands Of External Secretion understand that if you wanna win the race, you's gotta go a little berserk to do so. Which is how this fine document operates; it's successfully wrestled the madness of others & dropped'em on they's collective noggin. You might think that winnin isn't everything, but losin most assuredly sucks. So's this is why I say verily unto you; hop on over to Tedium House & secure a copy! If ordered now, it'll come w/a free, penalty 30 min cdr. Oh, and be sure to tell'em Song Keaspai sent ya.
http://www.tediumhouse.com/

Let Us Toast To Unintended Consequences.....Roland Woodbe Back On U.S. Shores!

2011-11-18T07:46:00.000-08:00

Man, it's been a while. The sayin goes that 'whatever don't kill you, makes you stronger' but I's has come across many a hard luck droop to know that ain't always the case. Take my word for it; the South Pacific is full've western bums what thought they was on to a better life. Strong? Sure, the scent they's carry is, stinkin to high heaven! So close to water, so far from hygiene. Beatin down. Couldn't take to island livin. It's a great equalizer, the line between romantic notion 'n desperation ain't but an r-c-h in diameter from each other. Whether it was runnin from a past, in pursuit of new adventure, or just plain laziness-thinkin that they's was gonna grow a money tree on a beach 'n while away the days in a daquiri haze-the new life didn't take 'n there them varmints is, laid out; one after another, sun burnt, toothless grifters, all of'em w/a scheme in their eye. An I was afraid of headin down a similar path. Shit,I'd only set up house in Kolonia cause I was overwhelmed by the beauty of Polynesia. Only! That's a good one. I had plum tricked myself into thinkin I was gonna be some kind've goddamn Paul Gauguin & was in for a storied life. And I'll admit, the Marquesas' is way more fertile'n most've Micronesia. Yet after a spell, they's was all the same. A man what ain't growed up on a diet've mud drinks 'n dog eatin can't be expected to stay that path for life. And on top've that, throw in a bunch've whinin, ugly Peace Corps workers, wives (both won 'n wooed), syphilis, endless fish head stew, the contents of a sunken WWII era Japanese bullion ship, a descendant of Joseph Darnand, coconut liqueur, two Filipino ladyboys, Nazi pen knives, Cash4gold lear jets, some blood on the tramac 'n well sir, you've got quite alot of explainin to do. Which I didn't have no mind for. So I lit the fuck outta there! Ranger X met me up to Hawaii & we snuck on down to Mexico in a souped up Polaris submarine what was rumored to have once belonged to Marlon Brando. It had a permeatin odor of rendered duck fat & as any avid fan've the great man already knows, he lived on nothin but roast confit & braised carrots while preparin for the role of Jor-El, so's his skin would reflect the perfect, Kryptonian sheen. So the claim seemed plausible. But Mexico weren't no salvation, so it was on through the locks of the Panama Canal w/a destination set for Florida. West Palm Beach to be exact. We was gonna bunk up w/a an old associate of Ranger X who was called simply, 'El Jeffe'. That's right, not 'El Jefe', as in 'the boss', this feller's name was Jeff, so's it was just a spot of fun atween him & The Ranger. Evidently El Jeffe had been very high up in the USAF chain of command & was the mole what got Ranger X his valuable cache's of hashish & whatnot many moons ago. They was thick, them two. Why, they could sit there 'n talk like twin clairvoyant's; finishin each other's sentences, eyes twitchin, heads bobbin, fingers dartin around. Was almost like a matin ritual. El Jeffe now was some kind've writin or readin instructor, none of that was ever explained in any detail. He sure had a load've books though. Claimed he'd written a few too, one what was entitled 'The History Of Zeal'. But it was under an alias. It had sold well he claimed, but was now very much out of print (& rare). He showed us galleys for some book he was workin on called 'Can You Find Jesus In The Gerkin? Secular Ramifications Of A Pickled Diet'. Again, he weren't usin no real name w/his pen. What a bird! Whatev's, he got me set up w/a nice little spot over to Greenacres which ain't but a toss from a bunch've golf courses. Plus now that Capt'n Siltbreeze has got my address, the records is comin in for review, so I'm back at it. I also got the buyout check from my ex partners in SNOUTS + a little something extra for lettin'em keep the recipes, so money ain't a worry. Ranger X done vamoosed to parts unknown, so it looks like I'm back to the blog in the mornin & off to the links w/El Jeffe most afternoons. I'm gonna have to learn how to golf left handed though. I'm just beatin the pants off these fellers down here w/a my regular game. They's all the time sayin "Woodbe, you should have gone pro", but I've been hearin that my entire life. About everything! You gotta be careful when believin what you's told. Mainly it's about listenin right so's to separate the bitter from the sweet. Dissect & filter. As the old sayin goes "A mind too open may fall out".

Fore!

Roland Seward Woodbe
Palm Beach County, Florida 2011

So's to kick right into the fray, let us consider this new S/T lp of posthumous proto-punk dunt from a feller what goes by the name've Dan Russell 'n issued by something called Aggravation Overdose. If we's to believe the printed history of Dan, he's been scabbin up the midwestern terra firma since the mid 70's, mainly in & around Flint, MI. But what is compiled here is tracks from 83-99 & it is a meaty buy to be sure. Like most folks what insinuated or skirted around the punk climes of they's city, Dan Russell & his bands was weened on early Crimson, Cooper, Sabbath, even some Be Bop Deluxe, all's of which can be discerned on this most excellent collection. if you's is fond've smokin your hams (or butter'n them beans) to the aggressive aural singularity what is MX-80 Sound, Debris, Crap Detectors & Vertical Slit, then this lp should be a must have for the vinyl larder. Email aggravationoverdose@gmail.com for more info.

Crewcified For Your.....Watery Love New 7"!

2011-08-31T09:02:00.000-07:00

Another two shots of bilious commentary courtesy of Philadelphia's best band at the moment. The A-side is penned by Richard Charles; a litany of condescending, sneering lyrics behind the roar of what sounds like the gear shaft of a Kensington garbage truck being stripped out & blazing a path of fire down Girard Ave. You know, the kind of good timey tunage you can only light up somewhere between Mecht Mensh & Iron Cross. The flip is an interpretation of a song written by Louis Allan Reed. But Watery Love's cover eschews all manner of hip, uptown vibrato found on the original, preferring to accessorize their stud w/the leather & switchblade swagger needed in a sketchy, downtown milieu. You know, the kind of controlled lunacy you can only sniff out somewhere between John Cale & Chain Gang. Thick black vinyl pressing housed in a sweet high gloss sleeve. One time edition of 330. Prices are as follows;

US-8$ ppd
Canada- 9$ ppd
Elsewhere-12$ ppd

Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

What The Scrivener Saw.....Dan Melchior Und Das Menace Tour Diary!

2011-07-09T05:55:00.000-07:00

When "Reese" (my nickname for Nigel Rees-Moog) informed me he was taggin along w/Melchior & co. for a potential tour diary, I informed him I'd be only too eager to publish his musin's, should he bring them to fruition.And thusly he followed through. Scintillating stuff to be sure! But I'd expect no less for ol' Reese. The man can lock you in w/a narrative.Why, there was the time we was at a post United Nations somethingorother & Reese had an entire table captivated by this tale of a rice puddin he'd ate at some diner in New Jersey. A Greek diner to be specific. He went into the whole history of Greeks & rice puddin & they's penchant for diner cuisine in the US. He even had a theory why the Chinese weren't no good at it. Seein as how rice come from the orient (he opined), you'd think something like that would be as natural as a bowel movement to'em. Reese says while the Chinese might've invented gunpowder, they sure didn't know the 1st thing about blowin up rice! He reckons some Greek fella just keep boilin his rice one day till them little kernel's just exploded. And forthwith you got all this meltin starch, add some milk, cinnamon & what have you's then before you know it, presto! Just about the best desert an Englishman could ever ask for. Stateside anyway. And he got the table of us laughin pretty good about the irony of how the Greeks could civilize the western world, but they could not make a hash brown potato edible if they's lives depended on it. Ain't THAT the truth!
Anyways, Reese is a truly fine citizen of the world & I'm happy to have him aboard this one time.

Your Editor,

Roland Woodbe

*The above artist rendering of Nigel Rees-Moog is unknown. Disclaimer - Any resemblance to the late Lord Lucan is entirely hereditary.

'The Tour'
By Nigel Rees-Moog.

When I was invited along on the Dan Melchior Und Das Menace European tour as chief scribe, and procurer of petrol station victuals,
I was obviously honored. I have known Dan for 20 years or so, having attended a rather low wrung Art School with him in the early 90's -
and have followed the arc of his myriad releases ever since. I felt it was an offer not to be scoffed at, after all, how often does one get to spend time
with a genuine underground 'Bluespunk' combo on the road? Oh the shenanigans! I was sure that much malfeasence and debauchery would soon
be afoot, and I would be the one to immortalise it all. My very own 'Hammer of the Gods'! (how wrong I was)

On the days before the upcoming voyage I stocked up on the things I knew would be hard to find abroad (cornish pasties, baked beans,
marmite, jellied eels) and threw caution to the pungent continental wind. You know what they say - When in Rome! I bought a pair of
espadrilles, a hooped jersey and a bavarian hat just to have all bases covered (not being sure what constitutes Belgian national dress)
and on the 13th of May I was as prepared as a man can be for such things, and went to meet up with the U.S contingent in Barcelona.

Day One.

I met the others at the airport in and was immediately taken aback by their somewhat stoic countenance. It was true that
the drummer was highly enthusiastic about eating native meats and cheeses, (all pronounced with 'authentic' guttural cadence) and giving anyone
who would listen a history lesson in whatever passed before his dazzled gaze, but other than that I sensed none of the 'Hard day's night'
like devil-may-care attitude that I had been expecting. The keyboard player seemed like a man of distinction, and I was somewhat assured
by his presence. Dan's wife too, had an air of 'get it done' American resourcefulness, and I thanked god that organisational things would not be left
to Dan or I to deal with (I had been present once when he was trying to renew his passport, and the experience did not bode well) As for myself,
I felt I was up to buying some sandwiches, and jotting down this account, but not much else.

We set off to rent the van and equipment, and within an hour we were on the road. Just like 'Keroauc' but without the drugs, or enthusiasm.
It was a long drive to Lyon, and when it turned out that there was no way of plugging in an ipod to the car stereo, the more modern of us
were confounded. Luckily Dan had brought along a copious amount of Cds, and we were treated to an endless stream of obscure and abrasive
noise that seemed to find little favor with anyone in the van other than Dan himself.
On pulling into the parking lot of the Lyon venue we were met with the greeting 'You are very late'. I jumped out of the van looking for the green
room, and was bewildered to learn that such a place did not exist. I was then handed a lukewarm can of French beer and directed towards a table from
which food that would seem to have been almost entirely made out of garlic was being doled out. I gave it a miss, and got to work ingesting
tepid lager.

The show started around 10.00, and Dan's rented amp had stopped working by 10.10.
Letha (Dan's wife) immediately showed the resourcefulness I had spotted in her, by plugging Dan's guitar into her amp. The show went on, but without her, unfortunately. What a brick!
The rest of the show went off without a hitch, and when Das Menace had finished, a trio of very serious French men in black sweaters got up on stage and started twiddling knobs. The result would be best described as 'Whitehouse lite' (though mercifully free of mincing 'power' vocals) No one in our entourage was spellbound by the spectacle, or it's resulting din, and we soon set off in search of more warm beer.

Day Two.

There was no 'gig' to play today, so it was a late start.
I had un-judiciously partaken in a French Whisky called 'Sir Robert Peel' the night before, and started the day with what the French call 'Mal aux Cheveux'
The fact that the French are not well known for their Whisky is no longer a mystery to me.

We made our way hastily to Calais, where we were to take the 11.30pm ferry. I felt a bit of a fool crossing back over the channel to Blighty so quickly after my
initial flight, but I was still quite hopeful for some 'Shark insertion' type hi-jinks, so I felt I ought to tag along even though, as Dan said 'Nobody in London likes us' The ferry was largely deserted except for a few drunken oiks who insisted on sitting uncomfortably close to our party. Still, it never fails to rouse a little bit of patriotic pride in one to see the white cliffs of Dover emerging from the murk, and it is always nice to observe that Dover does smell a little less like shit than Calais.

Day Three.

London was as over cast as usual.
The journey into town went quite smoothly until we hit the Great Western Road, and were mired in the inevitable gridlock.
The show was at Ryan's Bar, Stoke Newington (of which Alexie Sayle famously said -'Have you ever seen the 'What's on' Section of the Stoke Newington Gazzette? It's a big piece of paper with 'Fuck All!' written on it') and our contact was Russell of the Pheromoans/Bomber Jackets. He was a charming fellow, with a dry sense of humour much to my liking, and his offer of a pint of Bombardier was most gratefully accepted.
It quickly became clear that the organisation of the night's events was suffering from what those in big business call a 'power vacuum' though. There would be no sound man for the night, and no one working at the bar seemed even remotely interested that we would be playing there. We carried the many heavy pieces of equipment (some of which were not even functioning) down the steep and precarious staircase, while Tony (keyboard king) and Matt (drum banger) went off to park the car. They didn't return for at least two hours, during which time I got drunk enough to seek solace in a battered sausage and chips.

The show was a mixed blessing at best.
The Bomber Jackets played a great set, augmented by a spiffing female drummer who used those drum pads that were so popular in the 1980's.
Our man Russell sat hunched over his mic, spinning his tales of mundane profundity, while Dan the keyboard man made varied and exciting sounds on various tiny casio devices. It was extremely good, though I'm not sure the audience noticed.
Next up were Spin Spin the dogs - who I was informed hailed largely from the land of Robin Hood. I would like to be able to say something positive about them, but as I am not likely to bump into them any time soon (stoke newington being a place I would not set foot in unless I was forced to do some kind of court ordered
community service there) I will tell the truth. They were dreadful musically, and hateful personally. Their music reminded me of nothing so much as a bored wedding band tackling the That Petrol Emotion songbook (if this means nothing to you, you are lucky) I vacated the basement and entertained myself with watching a Greek football match in the bar.
Das Menace played a great set, blasting the sparse and stoic audience with shards of noise that they seemed largely unable to process. House music and Oasis seem to have neutered the English's previously highly developed sense of aesthetics, and one can only harbor a sense of loss at this development. Would these
wooden people have heralded a Barrett era Floyd, or Vertical Slit performance if it'd been presented to them? I very much doubt it.

We all retired to Christian's (Pheromoan's guitarist) house, where much fun was had, and many interesting records listened too.
By the time I decided to retire, a conversation about George Lucas had begun to gain momentum. Sensing that things were rapidly going pear shaped I made my excuses, and wandered off to sleep in the bathtub like John the scouse.

Day Four.

The next day we drove down the road to the Stag's head public house.
The Americans were all very cheered by the ambience of said establishment, as it was (relatively) old, wooden, and unspoiled by the prevailing Starbucks design aesthetic.
Once again no sound man was present, and the organiser of the event was indignant with rage about something or other. Rumor had it that some of the bands on the bill were not 'beat' enough for him, and to that I can only say 'Hard cheese!'
We chose to drink in the snug bar instead of placating him with glib flattery, and the Pheromoans were good companions in this.

After scoffing down a ropey kebab at a dump across the road, I came back to find the first band in full swing. I heard some muffled Flat duo Jets like warble
through the bathroom wall whilst taking a long overdue leak, but by the time I came out they had stopped playing. I will not venture an opinion on their set, as it would be presumptious of me to do so (I'm no Everett True, after all)
The Pheromoans were next up, and while I must admit that I was predisposed to like them, they certainly made it easy to do so. A great band, if I do say so.
I never saw the Door and the Window play (too busy at the ashram) but I imagine it would've had a similarly skewed trajectory. It rocked, but obliquely.

Das Menace shaped up to the task again, and blasted all and sundry with a dose of good old sonic violence. There was much guitar wailing, and I think a couple of those in attendance even liked it.
We packed up hastily and beat a retreat to Dan's parents house in the sticks. I have never been as grateful for the use of a twin bed with clean sheets in my life.

Day Five.

There was no gig today. I went for a walk by the river and threw some bread at a swan.

Day Six.

Wake up/Drive/Ferry/Drive/Belgium.

What a strange town! Kortrijk! - the venue has a urinal that stands slap bang in the middle of the backstage area. The Belgians buy records after the show
and prop them up on the top of the urinal whilst taking a piss.
There is much strong, dark beer, and much discussion of the European monetary system.
A sign in the house we are all staying in says 'Puerto Rican showers only'. It is hard to imagine that many Puerto Ricans pass through Kortrijk, and it also hard to say why their showering habits should be so much more notorious in Belgium that they are in the USA. I suppose someone saw something on television. It's a curious phenomenon, this 'cultural misappropriation'
Still, it's a very clean house, and the people are extremely nice and appreciative of loud and abrasive music.
I take one of the top bunks, and lay awake all night listening to the four members of the band snoring in unison - another concert, just for me!

Day Seven.

Off to Germany. Why does my scrotum seem to recede into my body slightly at this prospect?
It's true that my Grandmother's house was flattened by a German bomb in WW2, but it is something apart from that.
The language? Perhaps. The leiderhosen? I don't know. Perhaps it's that dreadful woman I worked for in that restaurant in Windsor. I'm sure she could've secured a high rank in the SS if she had been born 60 years earlier, and such things had been permitted.

I will spare you a description of the Northern German countryside. Suffice to say it looks a lot like Ohio. No big surprise there.

We were playing in Hamburg, and not just Hamburg, but the Reeperbahn.
If you have ever been to Amsterdam then just imagine what that place would look like if a bomb hit it, all the decent looking prostitutes escaped, and the place was invaded by severely sunburnt, obese androids with blonde flat tops and eighties style leather jackets. You are now halfway to visualising the hell of the reeperbahn. Add a layer of filth 2 inches deep and aimlessly rendered US style graffiti to every imaginable surface, and you are getting closer.
Every five minutes or so one is forced to vacate the street as a group of drunken storm troopers come rolling by on a 'beer bike' This is a small bar mounted on a multi person bicycle which is hired out by germans celebrating an upcoming wedding. The barman steers, whilst serving the grinning simpletons seated at the bar ridiculously alcoholic lager. What fun!

The club (as usual) was several flights of dangerous stairs underground - and to add to the fun, no one knew where the light switch was!
Still, once we settled in, there was at least sound man present.
Our contact, Jens took us all back to his apartment and fed us pasta and wine, which was much appreciated. The giant New York Dolls mural on the wall was slightly disconcerting, and Dan's championing of Neu, Faust, Can and La Dusseldorf was met with mild incredulity. We were in Garage country, and something told me that the band would not find a lot of favour amongst this crowd.

We made a way down to the club in much the same manner as a man makes his way to the gallows.
The show was good (no support) but some of the sparse crowd were scandalised at it's brevity. I heard Tony being berated by a bespectacled German -
'But why are you only playing 7 songs? This is not good practice I think'
'The set lasted 40 minutes'
'I paid 5 euros, and this is not standard practice'
'Well, what can I say?'
'I thought your music was okay, though it lacked dynamics, and the guitar person was not very engaged'
'Well, why would you want to hear more then?'
'I paid my 5 euros for US garage, and 7 stoner jams is not good practice'
and so on..........

Day Eight.

Leaving Hamburg was like being giving an 11th hour reprieve. I felt more alive, and the air was sweet. Things could only get better!
The scenery remained banal, but the trees seemed to get greener as we left the environs of the 'fetid city'

Munster was interesting.
I was given some very dirty looks when I crossed the road against a red light, and the profusion of kebab shops was just as high as it was in Hamburg.
(Thank god for our Indian Empire!) Still, it was very, very clean.
The venue was a veritable wonderland, with soundmen, promoters, flyers, posters, fans and everything else one may reasonably expect.
The band played, (Great version of ATV's 'Splitting in Two') and orderly lines were formed to buy records. These Munserites put their
money where their mouths were, which was a good job, as the door deal (100% after staff were paid) was hardly likely to be a big earner.
Still, I think all present were well pleased with the result.

Unfortunately that night Letha was sick, and the crash pad we were presented with was fairly thick in cat hair. I did not envy her predicament.
I suggested that her and Dan take a double bed in the loft, but Dan discovered an insect of indeterminate species under the duvet, and understandably declined.
I grabbed one of the mattresses that had been packed together (bomb shelter style) on the floor of the room, and moved it into the kitchen. I then put on my jeans, socks, jacket, (with up turned collar) and laid the cleanest looking thing I could find (a shopping bag) under my head. I slept soundly until an angry arian burst into the room with the already infamous cat in tow, squealing to be fed.

Goodbye Germany, hello France!

Day Nine.

Who would've thought one could feel so at home among the French? Everything is relative I suppose.
The land of connossieur Gas stations was a most welcome change of pace. Beautiful scenery began to roll past our bird shit encrusted windows again, and I was
full of expectation for our visit to 'Jolie Paris'
Of course, we would have to actually get to the venue first. Luckily the drummer was an expert with the 'stick shift', and although he was near gibbering break down by the time we pulled up outside 'La Mecanique Ondulatoire' he did a great job. Claire, our promoter stood outside, wearing a skirt that resembled a belt. I didn't notice anyone complaining though, and I was certainly not going to be the first. Everyone was all smiles and bonjours, and the stereotype of the rude Parisien was quickly laid to rest.
After the inevitable descent into the basement (much cleaner than usual) we were confronted by a very pro-active French Canadian sound man. Would the wonders never cease?
The band performed an honest to goodness sound check, after which we set off in various directions into Paris. I was keen to find some good Duck Terrine, and did not have to walk far to find some. I perched myself by the Seine and gorged myself with the stuff, dozing off so that I almost completely missed the Pupils set. I came in on the tail end of the last song, and found them playing to a good crowd - especially for a Monday night. Things boded well for Das Menace!

It was a very good show indeed, with particularly strong versions of 'Swamp!' and 'Town Feeling' (Kevin Ayers) and the Parisians really seem to 'get it'. They were very forthcoming with their money after the show, and cleared the band out of a number of releases.
Accommodations were a distinct improvement too, and I got into bed in my underwear for the first time in days. I even got to watch Bear Grylls eat a spider in French on a flat screen TV!

I feel asleep harboring all kinds of passionate feelings for the great city of Paris.

Day 10.

Off to Bordeaux.
I was eager to see this city, having never previously visited it.
The scenery continued to beguil, and the gas stations continued to proffer up fare that one would only find in a high classed bistro in the UK.
Every now and then it would dawn on me that the salmon, herbs de provence, goat cheese and rocket baguette I was eating had been bought
at the French equivalent of a Mini Mart.

Bordeaux was another beautiful old city. Scrappy, but charming in the best way.
The promoter Ruth, was of the highest possible order - a veritable rock in the sea of wishy washy-ness that is the budget rock tour netherworld.
Her presence was infinitely re-assuring, and I found myself feeling almost 'at home'
I skipped sound check and strode off into town looking for a roadside cafe. Call me a tourist if you will, but there are simply some things that must be done in such a place.
After fending off several very aggressive beggars with curt reproaches learnt the hard way in the streets of London, I settled down to drink my coffee.
Sipping ostentatiously at my tiny cup (with my hand placed firmly over my wallet) I decided that the band would not miss me for the night. How many ear splitting
T.S Mc Phee- esque guitar meltdowns does one need to endure in a 10 day period?
Bordeaux offered up her charms to me in no uncertain fashion, and I spent some very enjoyable moments perusing the shops in town. The erotic outfits for sale in the modest red light district, were quite something, and if I had been a bit more flush with cash I may have been tempted to buy a studded catwoman get up
for my girlfriend.

Arriving at the club when Dan was already manning the 'merch' table I was surprised to find the place packed with attractive women. What a night to wander!
I had stayed until the bitter end during the sausage fests of Hamburg and Munster, but here I had gone on a jaunt. Silly bugger! Mind you, how was I to know that this kind of music could actually draw nubile females out of their houses? France, you mysterious mistress!

We then piled in the van, and made our way down several roads that were barely the width of a renault compact to get to Ruth's 'maison'.
And what a maison it was! The place was like something you would see in a Bela Lugosi film - with an ancient looking spiral suitcase, and rough hewn sandstone walls.
We drank some wine, listened to some crazy middle eastern music (from Ruth's boyfriend Stephan's collection) and attempted (with very little success) to use a French keyboard to send emails. All in all it was a wonderful night.

Day 11.

It was with some trepidation that we left France. It was unanimously agreed amongst the group that the 3 French gigs had been the highlight of the tour, and we wondered what Spain, and the Primavera festival had in store.
Dan confided in me that he considered the real tour to be over, as the Primavera shows were bound to be schmooze fests above all, and he fully expected the grounds around the stage to be largely vacated once their sets commenced. I listened dispassionately, making no judgments of my own. I had seen some strange things on this tour, and I wasn't too sure what I thought anymore.
France turned slowly into Spain, and we pulled into Barcelona just in time to return the equipment. The van would have to go back in the morning.
We drove some miles outside of Barcelona and found a hotel. Beers were drunk, and I was asleep by 12am.

Day 12.

Today there was no gig.
We returned the van early. It had been our prison for an average of 8 hours a day for the last 11 days, and consequently I was not sad to see it go. Tony practically ran into the office to hand them back the keys.
From there it was off into Barcelona - what a city!
I must admit that I got throughly lost, and ended up in some fairly dangerous looking neighbourhoods (note - Barcelona's hookers are not the cities best attribute) Still, the atmosphere over all was 'muy simpatico', and I felt full of the joys of spring.
I rented myself a small apartment in La Rambla for a fairly paltry sum, and set about getting pie eyed on sangria at various bars. It was a long and enjoyable night.

Day 13.

I awoke to find that I had a fairly severe headache. I'm not sure what they put in the sangria, but for a minute I was suspicious that I'd been rufied.
After going down to the supermercat for some ibuprofen, and swilling 4 of them down with cup of strong coffee, I started to feel connected with my surroundings again. By 12pm the city was right back in full swing, and I ventured back into it's 'raging torrents of life'
Das Menace had to play a show at 8pm, and I was loathe to leave Barcelona proper and enter the performance area. I had been to one too many festivals to get
excited at the prospect of sharing a chemical toilet with 15,000 drugged up proles.
I was having my 4th 'Estrella' of the day, when I realised it was time to make my way over to the grounds.
The usual flotsam and jetsam that attend these kind of things were swarming towards the entrance, and I stole myself for the task of becoming one of them.
Once inside, I made my way over to the appropriate stage and waited for Das Menace to appear. The band who played directly before them (who's name I don't recall) did at least two punk versions of Phil Collins' ode to the homeless 'Paradise' and I was beginning to lose the will to live when a grinning female flower child standing next to me handed me a damp brown joint with a vacant grin. At this stage in proceedings I was extremely happy to take it and inhale deeply.
It soon became apparent that this was what our friends in America call 'some serious shit' and my bearings were soon lost. I saw all kinds of terrifying things -
balding, potato like, minor rock stars in lumber jack shirts, someone who looked like a taxidermied version of Alan Vega, a huge inflatable cucumber wearing nipple clamps - - - who knows what was real and what was not!
Das Menace's psychedelic spew took me by the balls and shook! - I felt molten waves of violent otherness cascading over me, and I looked at my hands only to discover they were voguing. I laughed (what else could I do?) and turned around to see the original colonel from MASH standing behind me in a bondage mask (I don't know how - I just knew it was him) Things were beginning to get a bit intense. I looked up at the stage to see Dan shooting me daggers - -there were green luminous things coming out of his eye sockets that looked like those little pasta bow ties, and I decided he was definitely trying to kill me with his guitar. Tony, Letha, and Matt all seemed to be ganging up against me too, and I was convinced that they were all trying to finish me off with their respective instruments. Notes shot out and stung me deep in my synapses. It was not very enjoyable. After a particularly queasy shard of sound from Tony's keyboard lodged in my lower abdomen, I made a break for the porta-potty where I vomited extensively and exhaustively. I immediately felt better, and made a mental note not to accept drugs from strangers anymore. Had Reading 93 taught me nothing? Apparently not.
It was an early night for me.

Day 14.

I was a little sheepish after the day before's meltdown, but wasn't sure that any of the band had noticed. I was fairly concerned that they might have.

The gig for the day was in a beautiful park about 10 minutes drive from the hotel. We sat quietly in the van until Dan started to make some awkward jerking movements and everyone burst into laughter. Obviously they had seen me. I sunk my head in shame. Things were quiet for 5 minutes or so, during which time I remembered that my Mother had told me that the best way to discourage mockery is to laugh with your detractors - so I did. Unfortunately my giggles turned into maniacal laughter and finally tears. It was not the result I had been looking for.
Everyone slunk off into respective corners of the park and I went to the food trailer where I ate two packets of crisps and several tiny jam sandwiches.

The show was a good one, but I made sure to sit perfectly still as they played. No more dancing for old Nigel. I vowed I would never dance again.

We made our way back to the hotel and bid each other awkward and hasty farewells.
I had to get on a plane at 7am the next day, so I decided to stay away from town, and make do with lounging around my luxury (paid for by Primavera) hotel room. Everyone had been ranting on about the 'amazing showers' in the rooms - but being a bath man (I prefer to marinade in my own filth, thank you very much) I partook only briefly in it's supposedly mind boggling attractions. I then fell asleep while watching a spanish game show and woke up about 30 minutes before I needed to be in the taxi.
My luggage was mislaid on the way home, and I finally got back to my house late that afternoon to find that no one had watered my plants like I'd asked them too.

In closing, I think it is safe to say that I never got to pen the expose of the seedy nether regions of the 'entertainment' industry that I was hoping to.
However, I did learn a few things in my time on the road -
1. Constipation is unavoidable on tour.
2. Never engage a German in a conversation about the New Bomb Turks.
3. If you are going to have a drug meltdown, have it in your hotel room.

Signing off,
Nigel Rees-Moog.

Axemen's '3 Virgins' Double LP NOW AVAILABLE

2011-05-27T07:50:00.000-07:00

FINALLY! After a couple of years in the RE-making, the Axemen's legendary dbl lp '3 Virgins, 3 Virgins, 3 Visions' (hereafter known simply as 3V's) is available for order. Originally seeing the light of day on the Flying Nun label in 1985, 3V's is a broad canvas of sound, seemingly channeling other likeminded cornerstones of fringe rumble such as 'Trout Mask Replica', 'Exile On Main Stree't & 'Tago Mago'. Just like last time (remember?) this is a limited edition run of 600 & housed is a stunning full color gatefold sleeve. Prices are as follows;
20$ppd-US
24$ppd-Canada
30$ppd-Elsewhere

*LIMITED TIME OFFER*

Add to your order both previous Axemen titles; 'Big Cheap Motel' lp + Scary,Part III double lp for only 15$ more! No extra shipping cost either!That's 3 more lp's! What a bargain!
(Just make sure to mention when ordering).

Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

*AND WHILE YOUR HERE*

Check out this AMAZING 3 Virgins promo film shot back in the day by Lawrence Lens (Nux Vomica, Portage mastermind);
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yv-iM_1h5uA

New Record, Archival Recordings.....Vacuum S/T 7" ep-GONE!

2011-05-10T15:20:00.000-07:00

SOLD OUT
Although they only got a couple of spins around the earth's axis, Vacuum were the band who wrote the clay tablets from which all great Christchurch groups worth a plug would glean substance to formulate THAT sound. Originating in 1977 & consisting of members Bill Direen, Stephen Cogle, Peter Stapleton, Peter Fryer & Alan Meek, Vacuum perfected an aural symmetry that fused classic Nuggets, Roxy, Elevators & Velvets moves as a template & this unique plonk would become germane for all that sailed after. Deep collectors will recognize these tracks by name from various prior releases, but these particular recordings-culled from 78/79 rehearsal tapes-are being made available here for the 1st time, EVER. 'Kicks' would go on to become an early staple in Direen's Builders discography, but the guitar on this version is particularly & wonderfully unhinged. The beautiful serenity of Cogle's 'Shade' - masterfully driven by Meek's keyboard--is as crisp out of the gate as the later honed version familiar in the oeuvre of the Victor Dimisich Band. The real thunderclap of the bunch is 'Accident' (another take can be found on The Builders 'Beatin Hearts' lp) where it sounds like someone spiked the Tia Maria with peyote & as a result, the band has psychically disemboweled 'Heard Her Call My Name' & fed the guts to Amon Duul. I've said it for years, electric liqueurs don't lie!
One time edition of 300. File alongside; Six Impossible Things, Pin Group, Builders, Victor Dimisich Band, Above Ground, Scorched Earth Policy, Dadamah & Terminals.

Mothers Day Poppies.....New Books By Michael Hurley & Byron Coley

2011-05-08T06:39:00.000-07:00

In my time I have told many Canadian jokes, knowed many Canadian jokes & quaffed many Canadian beers (even 'skunked' Mooseheads) so I think I can say without equivocation that the Montreal imprimatur, L'oie De Cravan, ain't none of these things. To prove as much, they's has up 'n flug out two great collections of written words by a couple've fellas that's know more about what happen's at third base than either Brooks Robinson or Eric Weber. And that's a lotta ground, hombre, so take notes.
First up is a slim volume by Michael Hurley, one of America's most well loved rascals.Everybody's crazy about him, from Cat Power in NYC (whose covered a tune're two I's been told) to Esto Setty over near Lynx Prairie (who sold him some cider blocks what I seen myself). And since I know's you's all know's who he is, I ain't gonna ramble on about his discography 'n such. It is without peer. This book what's title in English, (bein that these bks is from Montreal-the hub of the QC-they's also French translations as well, viz, bilingual) is 'The Words To The Songs Of Michael Hurley' & it couldn't a more handsome chapper. L'oie De Cravan done this up swell; alls calligraphed by Doc Snock himself + what's also occasionally accompanied by colorful illustration're two. My favorite'd be 'Ohio Blues' what's from the 'Sweetkorn' cd. Why? 'Cause I's been to Portsmouth O-Hi more'n enough times in my life & if Snock don't nail the grimness of that river town (& the desire to flee), then I ain't Kentucky's most forgotten boy. Dead on forward notes by Byron Coley too.
And speakin of Mr. C, this next book's all by him! It's name is 'C'est La Guerre; Early Writings 1978-1983' & it is a tottlin ride through the LUSH green pageantry've the Samuel Pepys of Amercian Punk. This fella damn near single-handedly chronicled EVERY vinyl spurt what was in the buddin years of Hardcore, not to mention carryin on about all manner've noise yokes what almost no one else gave shit, let alone champion. Neither Bushwacker nor Jayhawk, he seen the intrinsic GOOD in most all comers-no matter they's burden-& any what followed his hunch was better for it.What you's get here is some letters, photo's 'n illo's, cherry picked reviews what was run in NY Rocker, Take It! & LA Reader, basically an all encompassin tableaux into the burgeonin (yet already keen) mind of one the best set've eyes 'n ears ever to peep 'n pop in the dank culture of anyone's Underground. I would've liked to've reread that Flesheaters diary though, maybe next time.
Mike Watt waxes poetically in the introduction like the imaginary son of Jack Kerouac what ate one of Robert Creeley's Sunday chickens. I was near driven to a fricassee, but in honor've all's, I opted instead for a cauldron've poutine (extra curds if you will, Garcon! Gravy too!) & a confiscated keg (my people's in all the right places) of L'amere A Boire pilsener. After all, it is Spring. Gotta start thinkin LIGHT.
Contact via; lent@oiedecravan.com & http://oiedecravan.com/

Divots In The Tarmac.....Mad Nanna S/T 7"

2011-05-01T12:06:00.000-07:00

Before rock-fluff wimps had to codify it as a genre so they's & other likeminded weakings could come to terms w/the phenomenon known as Guided By Voices (primarily), 'Lo-Fi' was just an accepted outlet of expression. It didn't need no definition, it weren't a miracle, simply, it was just another anonymous workin stiff in the musical milieu. Some's referred to it as DIY, but that acronym was usually slotted for UK bands from a specific era. Shamblin, theadbare, amateurish, these was all traits what could be associated w/self released records 'n bands, even now. But since the mid/late 90's, 'Lo-Fi' has become alternately both a blessin & a blight when it comes to Pop consciousness. By it's very existence it has suffered (both pro 'n con) the idiocy (& fools) of musical gentrification. It can't just BE, it has to BE SPECIFIC. Branded if you will, the final insult. It is the way of the world, you can't get around it. Well, one can, but they'd have to come live here with me. Which one can't. 'Cause if that happened, they'd soon disappear & unlike "Lo-Fi' the chances of anyone ever hearin from you again would be nil.So go put that in your Fader 'n smoke it.
Lordy me! Am I ridin a high horse or what? Must've gotten up on the wrong side've the hammock today. But it ain't like I'm spoutin bullshit. I reckon the worst part've the whole business is how now you's got bands tryin to purposely sound shoddy cause they's think it's hip. But what do I know? I'm an island dweller & couldn't give a goddamn about any of it. I like what's I like cause I like it. How's that for defined?
And you's know who else's of the same mind? Mad Nanna. They's function in the Albert's Basement universe down to Victoria, Australia 'n the spuzz they's released on this 7" is a dandy. Even in a country w/a scene that's blowin up like the Oz one is, still ain't no one what sounds like'em. Imagine if that band, Even As We Speak was struck by lightnin & on account, forgot all's they ever knew. Upon relearnin to play, they's used a cassette recordin of File Under Pop's 7" for inspiration which went beyond therapy 'n became THE GOAL. It also kinda sounds like a Falling Spikes bootleg what had been caked w/mud & laquered onto vinyl. Definitely Lo-Fi, doubtfully hip. No matter, it's still a glass what's half full of life's lemonade that's sweeter'n a Soave spritzer. Glug, glug, glug.
Find out more here;
www.albertsbasement.net/mad-nanna/

Sing A Song Of Sexpants.....Trophy Wife's st 7" ep

2011-04-28T12:22:00.000-07:00

Hey now, I damn near missed this little record what had fallen outta that White Boy box! It's a mysterious private press looking thing by some outfit what's called Trophy Wife. Do tell! As a matter've fact, I'm oglin up a couple right now (my own, not the band). They was nice enough to include a press kit, jabberin about Spector girl groups, Gun Club, Birthday Party, Southern Goth.......oops, sorry about that. Had to take a break. Them real trophy wives needed some Woodbe time. Huzza!
Um.....oh, right, this Trophy Wife band has a cool detached sound, though none of them references they's claim to convey was obvious to my ears. Ethereal they is too. I's was transported to a parallel world, one where that Janet & The Johns was all Janets, Amos & Sara was Sara & Sarah & The Liggers was The Liggers was The Lexie Mountain Boys ('cept they really WAS boys what had they's dingle's snipped to sing high, you know, as in girlish voce).When you think about it like that, all the spooky talk of Civil War cemeteries 'n hauntin spectre's makes sense. If someone when 'n cut off part've my pecker, I think I'd develop some idiosyncratic musical styles too. But like I was sayin, there's them trophy wives just yonder that can tell you's I'm as healthy as a horse. But not now, they's sleepin, SSSSHHHH!
Trophy Wife can be contacted here;
www.privateleisure.org

Hard Headed Shredder.....White Boy & The Average Rat Band S/T LP

2011-04-28T08:25:00.000-07:00

My eyes did a double take when I see this record perched in my mail trap (they's ain't got no word here for box near's I can tell). Good lord I was happy, only cause I'd been lookin for a copy since Robin Yount was a five figure Brewer. The writeup that Roach Records put togther kind've says it all, 'cept I ain't got a damn clue what's Lamour is (or was) or's this Meanstreak they's reference. I guess I'll have to get to investigatin'em! Wouldn't wanna miss out.
Some nimble-toed piker once tried to tell me this was the same band as Mr. Ott & Jake Whip had but I'd knowed that was a sack of shit 'n told him about it.He made a mess in his drawers what stunk up the bar to high heaven, but at least he's still around to deny it. The real word is the band ain't but one feller & he hired them others on the front to look all tough. It sorta works. Takes me back to some dumbshits what tried to tangle w/yours truly in Parkersburg, WV in the early 80's. None of'em even seen the blade they's surrendered to, let alone feel it. Ah, youth, to be wasted so young. Feel free to quote me on that.
So White Boy & The Average Rat Band.....hard to say exactly where they's (or he) was comin from but know this; when it wants to, this lp is as wild as a peach orchard hog. There's also some screwy ballads goin on ('Oriental Doctors', wow! Too bad Tommy Bolin ain't around to here THAT one) + an outta nowhere acoustic number too. Locked into some current that's more metal than punk, it ain't no joke, as funny as it may seem at times. In other words, Nig Heist it is not. I'm hip to the Kenneth Higney reference too, and Michael Schenker. It woulda been cool if Kenny'd aped Scorpions more than Cat Stevens, but he didn't & behold we's got both 'Attic Demonstration' AND this here White Boy lp. How's are any of us worse off for that? The best of both. Now if only that Higney lp would get rereleased.....
Find this brattled gem here;
www.fusetronsound.com/

Just When You Thought It Was Safe To Strum The Four String Again.....TWO new releases from Bill Orcutt!

2011-04-27T07:24:00.001-07:00

Did you's know? Nope, nobody did! Had no idea these was to drop, but that's ain't such a surprise, givin my current surroundin's (at present I's is sittin tight on an outrigger in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, writin on a borrowed Polynesian Blackberry). And whose am I gonna share my enthusiasm with anyways? Ain't no one's on this boat, I can guarantee! They's all hopped up about a tuna run, so off I went, but weren't gonna let'em interfere w/my deadline. I'm a multi-tasker from way back.
So yeah, these 2 7"ers is ever rawer & more open then them previous 3 releases what's now artifacts've legend. Could've been done in a live setting (gallery style perhaps) or direct recorded in his studio (shoes optional I am told). They's seem to function as a set, or pair, HEAR YE, one's could even conceive of'em as twins. Like Remus & Romulus; suckled off the teet of a wolf, founders of Rome, the most famous Feral Children of all Mythology. Now's I ain't insinuatin that Bill's playin 'n vocal harmonizin is feral. But most of the cat's in my village is & when I was playin these last night after (ANOTHER) lobster feed, it was liked the feline doomsday clock struck twelve. Course you gotta imagine the superb resonance of guitar & moan on these dudes; cranked up (what other way would you suggest?) they's sound like battle scenes culled from a Kurosawa soundtrack (Throne Of Blood, for instance) but instead of human actors, they's REAL gnarled up old tomcats attackin rats across a vast landscape of ravaged sinew. Bearin that in mind, dig, that when them tunes hit the public airwaves (my DJ stint's here is already big stuff)it was like a collective panic set in, just about ever critter w/claws went screamin outta sight & into the bush for fear! It was so mind rattlin I was forced to stop playin'em. Chickens was runnin around, cluckin they's little, dumb, heads off, shittin everywhere. Cat's howlin from trees, dogs bayin from the cliffs. All the parrots 'n every other bird what could, lit out for some faraway island.I even found a herd've goats what had cut themselves off on a crag, CRYIN! Yep, they was bawlin like newborn babes. Who's have thought? So I reckon let this be a lesson to any pet owners out there; DO NOT PLAY THESE RECORDS BEFORE A TRIP TO THE VET. Hell, you might as well just feed'em a rasher of bacon & let'em check out happy. Because everybody loves bacon. Even a toad'll eat it.
So's anyway, I guess I ain't gonna get a repeat listen to'em anytime soon. Maybe on headphones, if I could get me some. I'd like to post photo's of what house these stupendous, Herculean efforts but I was told not to. Said so in the letter what come w/em, let me read it aloud;
"Hey Roland-
Here are new releases. The pressings are small on each. Right now they are being sold only at shows. No need to review them, but if you must, I understand. Just please no corresponding artwork!. Thank you Roland. Your thoughts count, most of all to you."
Cheers-
B.O.
Not review'em? A leopard can't change it's spot, can they? I had to tell you's about'em! Shit, writin words 'n stringin folks along is what I's do best(internet speakin, that is)!
Which reminds me-Mr. Bill also included in his package a chocolate flavored condom. Now I can't say's if that's a joke, but considerin how he's the evil Dr. Doolittle, I say's he knows that the vendin machines in Kolonia ain't near what they's is in San Fran. Just goes to show that when some folks say 'fuck a duck", well, they mean it.
Contact Bill Orcutt via;
http://palilalia.com/.

The Livin Dead, Indeed.....Violent Students 'Party Addiction' LP

2011-04-25T10:30:00.000-07:00

It is to my great & everlastin dissatisfaction that I's never got to a Violent Students gig. But they was windin down in Philburg as I was gettin wound up. Anything about'em seemed to be word of mouth & ever now 'n again I might find a cdr or hear tell of this're that. A slim but prime discography to be sure. And who could ever forget the artwork to they's bigtime debut COMPACT DISC for Parts Unknown? Just about the LAMEST design to ever prance down the promenade! That is until The Chickens released they's work of 7" genius on a label but a stone's throw from this Blog. Oof! It pains my eyes to even think of THAT cover.
But I's always said Violent Students needed to have an lp, a crucial, vinyl document on how they's put their there there. And this 'Party Addiction' is just sucha beast. Evidently culled from a recordin of the final live performance + a recroak of the 'A Handy Magician' cassette, there's is two ways to hear 'n assimilate this masterpiece of gunk; as either wretchin your way through Cro Mags demo's played at half speed w/a tummy ache (too much veganaise on the non gluten tater tots will do that!) or as Hajokaidian convulsing in spasms from mercury poisoning while coverin Psycho Sin's entire output. No way to know how your wired friend, but from my culture bunker this is win/win all the way home. Dig it here;
testostertunes.blogspot.com/

Somersaulting Coincidences.....The Wonderfuls S/T 7" ep

2011-04-25T06:41:00.000-07:00

There's been this fanzine what's sprung up down to Australia called Negative Guest List & it's got lot's of crows crowin. Which is a good thing. 'Cept I am a sad fuckin sap & ain't even seen an issue. Ever! The feller what's behind it, Mr. Brendan Somethinorother, seems like a straight shooter though, so's here's hopin such a glarin oversight is rectified soon. But then before I's could even get a gander at page one he's gone & released a 7", usin the street cred of the NGL name as collateral. Hmmmm, now where have I come across this business model before?
Anyways, the Wonderfuls s/t 7" is a humdinger & a half. Purported to be the work of 2 cousins-one's of which is mentally unstable (LOOK WHO'S TALKING?-Capt'n Siltbreeze)-these 4 tracks rank this hoss high amongst the recent Aussie imports. It has a deliciously skewered crackle that recalls 4 different bands what was citizens within the Terse Tapes universe 1 million art-noise punk years ago. I mean listen to it! At any given time they could be Holiday Fun, East End Butchers, Agent Orange, Pastel Bats, Invisible Boys, Wet Taxis, Lazio Toth, Lunatic Fringe, Mice Against God, Pissy Relay Switches, Mesh & Disneyland but never Bathroom Beans, Art Throbs, Mindless Delta Children, Junk Logic, Painkillers, Saxaphone Caper, Zzzzzzzzz, The Klu, Negative Reaction, Laughing Hands, JP Sartre Band or Disneyland. It's a slippery slope, you know? But The Wonderfuls sound like they's squiggle is just right.Let's hear more! Long may they swish.
Via;
negativeguestlist.blogspot.com, www.goner-records.com
& ineedinsulation.blogspot.com/
THIS JUST IN: Contact Mr. Negative Guest List here-dirtyalley@msn.com

Exit This Roman Shell.....Chora's 'Slates' lp

2011-04-22T07:36:00.000-07:00

In a sort've amusin way, it's hard to know (or recall) if the phenom known as New Weird America simply ceased to exist ( vague Manson pun intended) or if the majority lit out in retreat w/all the grace 'n elan of despots forced into exile. Oh, they's some still out there, strummin away, talkin they's post Beat patois & you know...that's just fine. After all, them's what's still struttin, it's like they's was granted peerage. And you don't expect folks what go around believin they's some kind've alt/music Count(ess), Earl (ditto) or Baron(et) to just relinquish cape 'n septer & walk away, do you? 'Course, all this titlein was done by Straw Kings & I bet it was a grande olde time while it lasted. Now some's seem to be more or less banished (when was the last time anyone heard from Lambsbread? Ding!-rhetorical question) & lot's of would-be Lords 'n Ladies in waitin should breathe a sigh've relief they's boat sailed into harbor post facto(just about every occupant on the USS Not Not Fun for example). But in the end, it happened, & by the by, we's is all better off on account of it. Think about that for a spell. Go ahead, mull it over. No need to get back to me. I know the answer. Here's a clue-its true.
So how that gets us to Chora....well....I suspect they was present at a few banquets once upon a time, but you can't let petty grievances (like musical politics) corrode the whole kit & caboodle. Take this posit for instance; we wouldn't have no nuclear bombs're space program were it not for the help of Werner Von Braun. And you know what he was, don't ya? That's right-A SCIENTIST.
So bearin that in mind, my ears 'n nodes was pleasantly pixilated when I got the Chora lp what w/it's imaginative, textured & (seemingly) improvised rummagin. There's some great density goin on at times, also effective use of trance 'n drone, pleasant passages segue into harsh walls....I dunno, it's like if This Heat had created an lp specifically for the Shandar label. And if THIS 'Slates' (don't tell Mark E. Smith!)was recorded at Cold Storage, well then, pluck my chest hairs 'n call me David Cunningham! Neat stuff through & through. I look forward to hearin more.
Get it here; www.fusetronsound.com
&
www.tediumhouse.com/

Hessian Psych.....Sunlore's S/T lp

2011-04-20T08:07:00.001-07:00

Can't says that I's make it up to Bucks County much, 'cept in late summer w/the heirloom tomaters 'n silver corn's in season. Some roadside stands over to Lambertville's always got just about the best I's ever had, year in, year out. Even the squash ain't no runts.
New Hope though.....just never seen the point. Oh sure, been there once, this here's what I remember about it; burnt chicken (aka 'Buffalo') wings, some French onion soup what tasted like it was made w/ketchup, watchin a rolly-polly gnaw on an ice cream biscuit,bikers on foot, a marble outhouse, dandelion wine, weak margarita's,lavender scented everything, lot's of jabberin, no parkin & a record shop run by a confused & bitter person what was tryin to sell a 10,000$, 10" acetate by an "unknown" rock band. So you tell me, what am I missin?
But eventually somethin good's gotta germinate, even there. And I reckon if nothing else, the spark what's piqued my interest is this S/T lp by Sunlore. Not that I'll be bustin a gut to visit'em if I ever get back that way, yet I ain't so cold hearted that I don't rejoice in what they's tryin to push. And what's so goddamn enjoyable about that is figurin out exactly what's spinnin; not just on the turntable, but in they's collective noggins. First go I could conjure them all sittin around a table, reading them Walter Wegmuller tarot cards while listenin to Toiling Midget's 'Deadbeat's. Since then I's heard sounds what resemble: the X/pressway Allstars muted rock opera on Beak Doctor, the unrecorded Hovlakin instrumental lp, Danny & The Dressmakers reinterpretin Manuel Gottsching's 'E2-E4' & Coloured Balls snorin through Marshall stacks. Which is all very much to my likin. They's also got a sideways/"sister" lp/band what's called 'Heartland' that thinner skins claim to enjoy (or is it, understand?) more, but from my vantage, there's fun more in the 'Sunlore' Find'em here;
http://www.tequilasunriserecords.com/id36.html
www.fusetronsound.com/
Contact the band here;
creamofturner.com/

Dropout Boogie.....Crazy Dreams Band 'War Dreams' lp

2011-04-19T07:50:00.000-07:00

Call it intuition, but somethin tells me that Crazy Dreams Band ain't gettin nearly none of the attention & accolades they should be. I've been sayin for too long (usually in a mirror) they's about one of the top, best live bands you could wanna come across. And this latest lp on Holy Mountain has been gettin muchos spinnos on my Polynesian hi-fi & that ain't likely to stop anytime soon. Good stuff? No, GREAT.
Likes many a dandy combo, what you see (live) & what you get (vinyl) is slightly different. In the flesh the angular blues thud 'n rumble is akin to Magic Band + Doors hybrid & Lexie Mountain couldn't be any more've a transfixin or versatile front person less she was dead 'n shrouded in legend. But w/her float 'n sting attack, I'd say she's gonna be boxin ears for as long as she can embrace (or stomach) the jaded pea brains & attention deficit dipshits what's sprung up like weeds all around. Whatever happened to discernin tastes? Sadly it's just legions of deaf & dumb. And hell, here I am, ensconced out on a spit of an island, middle've nowhere, nothin but records,wi-fi, a chili butter poached lobster, ice cold tub've suds 'n two lovely "interns" to keep me jazzed & even I know that is a CROCK. Whoever said 'it takes a village" must've been talkin about the one of the damned.
But enough soapboxin. So since ain't no one has paid the Crazy Dreams bunch no mind-at least on they's sophomore effort-allow me to elaborate. 'War Dreams' isn't really an extension of the 1st one. Nope, it's a completely new kaleidoscope of sounds. Which is to say if you was confused by the S/T effort, this one could be more in your comfort zone. How would I know? Can't says that I do, but my reckonin is if you's is someone what get's down 'n can slither w/the likes of Tractor, Gunjogacrayon, Älgarnas Trädgård, Medicine Head, Equal, Checkpoint Charlie, Stackwaddy, Brastburn, Hampton Grease Band, Occasional World Ensemble, Totsuzen Danball, Ahora Mazda, Moohlah, ZOA, Mad Tea Party, Plastic People Of The Universe, Far East,Third Ear Band, Xhol Caravan, Karuna Khyal, Brainticket AND Stone The Crows, well.....this platter've prime dunt oughta fit into your greasy repertoire like fried chicken on a waffle. Syrup is optional. Available here;
www.holymountain.com/artists/crazy-dreams-band/
contact the band via; www.myspace.com/thecrazydreamsband
or
http://www.facebook.com/pages/CRAZY-DREAMS-BAND/401336445148

Meanwhile, In The City By The Bay.....Tom Darksmith's 'TOTAL VACUUM' lp

2011-04-18T08:14:00.000-07:00

You could fill Love Canal all over again w/drums of crud I don't know about Tom Darksmith. Sometimes motivational speaker (under the alias, 'Tony Coinpurse'), mild mannered hotel concierge, illustrator of pen & ink illusion, sure, these is all common knowledge. Maybe not so common, I mean, go to his blog 'n look at them pictures!. And his fiscal philosophies, the one comparin money to water is what got me drawn in. I've sat through 2 of his finance symposiums-'How To Stretch A Dime Into A Dollar' & The Three Dollar Bill;The One That Got Away' & I gotta tell you's, I coulda listened to that guy talk ALL DAY. So when at the end of the latter (SF Marriott downtown, date now unknown, dammit!) he was promotin a solo lp, I was right there, long green in hand, ready for the fork. Once transaction was achieved, I got it back to the safehouse & gave it a whirl.
Seein how it was on Hanson, I knowed it was gonna be good, but wow, I guess I wasn't prepared for the organic leap backwards into the future. Referred to as field recordings, Total Vaccum is a masterpiece of abstract aural fog. Blankets of sounds-forebodin, mysterious, beguilin, encouragin-envelop your being through both sides, drawin a line in the sand, darin you to come along. I was reminded of past recordin artists what belied similar, subtle, subversions; Bladderflask, Organum, Illitch, Semool, you know, THEM sorts. It's the kind've lp that when it's on, it keeps the sun stilted just so. And when your hide tans like mine, that's a friend indeed. Check it out & be sure to visit Mr. Darksmith's site while your at it too;
http://momcostume.blogspot.com/.
www.hansonrecords.net
www.tediumhouse.com/

Di Giga Do Tinaanaa E Bilau Ni Iga Bobo.....The Return Of Roland Woodbe!

2011-04-17T11:43:00.000-07:00

It's said that the openin year of any decade is likely to be a whopper & 2010 proved to be just that. I ain't talkin musically, hell, when it comes to that, it was just same shit, different outhouse. Course it may've been a different matter had I been closer to the scene, yet I can't be everywhere, as hard as I try.But mor'on that later.
As y'all is painfully aware, we's gripped by terrorist fever worldwide. Perhaps it's my nature, blurred & blunted via my various personal exploits, what's more or less crawlin through the bowels of evil & rippin out they's intestines (or worse). I have torn out more steamin coils've addled entrails than one of them fantastical bird-eaters in a Bosch paintin. Imagine a house party on Austin's east side durin a (non sanctioned) SXSW function. Now picture cuttin a swath through that rabble in the middle of the night w/nothin but a saif. And instead of vacuous dipshits sportin warm 40's, it's rabid, bearded bastards w/bombs! It's us unsung fellers whats keep our country free of inscrutable tyrannies so's a band like-for instance-Kurt Vile & The Violators can tours 5 weeks at a time & not sweat them (free) cold ones. Now if they's had an off night or someone's got a bone to pick, that's on them. But your gettin le picture, correcto?

And the funny thing is, I was alls set to give up the life this yr. Then Ranger X come to me w/a dire plea & there I was, in the thick of it once again. This time the wretched excess took us into Micronesia, which is just about the last place I figured I'd be chasin trouble. Seems some errant faction at the behest've this half-cocked sheik (whose real title cannot be divulged) had gone & set a bunch've goons into the islands w/the intent of eventually gettin into Yap & stealin a Loran-C transmitter. So's Ranger X & I was dispatched in as Peace Corps workers w/orders to infiltrate & destroy said sect w/extreme prejudice.
I gotta tell ya, for the most part, it sure is right nice in them islands. The folks don't care about much-mainly just gettin by from what I could see-but we's learned how to fish in outriggers, I was honin my skills by spearin lobsters in the coral reefs, why I even learnt me a fairly knowledgeable amount of Yapese & Woleaian languages. In regards to the latter,I'd have never though my Latin background would've come in handy in such a place, but that only goes to show. After a while I was even barter'n in they's stone money & was savvy enough to earn me a 12' disk (fancy that!) alls my own. Never mind they's would never get my name right,thems all knows whose money that is.'Mr. Rowan, Swolan, Bolan", howsever they refer to me, ain't no one gonna bone me outta my "wealth". And I appreciate'em for that.
But then come the call. The desert infidels had made it on land, time for us to vamoose. So's we was spirited way off to Kapingamarangi, a good 3 days journey east. I'll tell you's all what; this leg of the mission made that 1st bit seem like we'd been coddled in the lap of luxury. It was some primal livin, but we was there to teach & learn. Well, in a spy sort've way. Got met up w/our Kapingi cohorts & they's was quite a lot. There was Hawaii Henderson (an expert w/machete's), Rommel Pickey (an amazing tactician & also master of Tuba, a fermented coconut drink) Sackius George (this feller knowed his way around the various lagoons, reefs'n whatnot) + Montgomery Conrat, Patton Tintin & Amila Tenten (the 'doctor'). It was beginin to look like our own private 'Bridge Over The River Qwai' except we didn't have none of them geisha-lookin women givin massages 'n whatnot likes in the movie. No, alls we had was betel nut & this nasty concoction Monty Conrat would make called Sakau. I couldn't tell you's exactly what it was, but it involved some root of a pepper plant what got ground, then mixed w/water, then strained through hibiscus bark. This would yield a slimy brown sludge one might associate w/the contents of a septic tank, but for them, it was the equivalent to a Quaalude mudshake. It was also a prime source for dysentery & cholera I was told & the reason these fellers was picked for our mission was on account they's was impervious to the side effects.And after a long day of machete fightin, jungle runnin & map makin, you can't blame a feller for wantin to wind down w/a cuppa-even if it did look like they'd shook a colostomy bag into a cup.

After a couple weeks of trainin, the team was ready. All us trudged aboad Sackius' boat & made the journey up to Pohnpei where we's would hang tight till word come in as to our D-Day. And we weren't there long. As an aside I gotta tell you's all this-one night in the 'VIP' section of some wild ass bar there I met the President.Now, I knowed he was someone of substance. Hell, ain't every feller in Pohnpei's got 3 painted ladies hangin off of him as he yammered very loudly, orderin rounds've beer for the house. He was dressed down in some old (read; vintage) track shorts, a starchy white wife beater, little black socks & a pair of homemade (read; organic) sandals.He got to eyein me up so I went over & broke the ice. "Excuse me sir", I said, polite as could be "haven't I met you before in Williamsburg,Brooklyn"? He sort've sputtered for a second, then lifted his head back, eruptin w/the loudest roar of laughter I's ever heard! Thick as thieves after that we was. The Woodbe charm strikes again.
But the fun come to an end not long after. The goons was on the move back over to Yap & we had about a weeks worth of travellin to do what to catch up. So off we went. It was Katey bar the door; no sleep, just pure adrenalin, we skimmed along the Pacific like a flat rock across pond, makin time like bat's outta hell. Once landed, we got situated & hunkered down for the wait. Bam-we got alerted to a samll boat of armed individuals headed into a lagoon near Rumrung. We's stealthily made our way into the village, our intent was to surround & eradicate. No prisoners, no alibi's, no mess. Them dopes may've seen what they's was tryin to do as Allah's will (or whatever), but it was a fools errand, plain & simple.See, what them terrorists didn't know was all that Loran shit had been dismantled & moved way back in the late 80's! With any luck it was gonna be like shootin fish in a barrel. Long story short; it was, mostly. But a couple of them buggers got away. We was able to trace'em to Palau, only to find out later they was scoped out by a couple locals on Airai who chased'em into some mangroves where (evidently) they was eaten by saltwater crocodiles (no bodies was ever found). So.......CASE CLOSED. The Ranger & I did our share of celebratin afterwards. By now we was back in Guam, under the watchful eye of the powers that be, but even they's will look the other way for the odd patriots, & I do mean ODD. Ranger X eventually made it back down to his compound in the hill country of Texas, but I decided to head back to Kolonia where a Mr. Mister (honest, that's his surname. The president's right hand man. He's never heard the band, which is why they's still alive) had me a fancy suite w/all the proper "accomodations". And it's where I's remained since. I told Capt'n Siltbreeze to send my records & all over here so's I would get back to music writin & make an honest livin again (HA!). I thought maybe this yr I'd do a proper 'best of' for last, but boat mail is only a scant faster'n a snail, so's I'm just gettin what's alls been saved. And if it's alright to you readers, I will commence to the have's now & save the have not's for later.

So now it's well into April & I ain't got that list, least not YET. I'll be postin'em-my best's (or close to's) come this week. I's just been so damn busy w/my new venture; a slew've pork sandwich & taro cake (fried banana's too) stands along the beach. SNOUTS is the name & while's it's stictly word of mouth, we got a steady clientele. Ranger X done come back too & head over to Yap to help this fellow Texan start up a microbeer company. 'Brio Beer' it's called.Again, under the radar, but that's how we role.They was able to get some hops from an old CIA buddy on Samoa, took over some old warehouse, built vats, kilns just about whatever they needed. And presto, we's got our own sustainable scene goin on. Even got Rommel Pickey doin some picklin & I'll be damned if Mr. Mister don't have a yen for bread bakin. And who knew Monty Conrat'd be such a whiz at whippin up mustard & various other condiments? Hell, It's only a matter of time till we's got tall bikes, leash laws & the girls is wearin wellingtons at the mere mention of rain. Maybe even pizza!
But enough about how all 'n all great MY life is. I'll be gettin back to review writin tout de suite. For the record, I like the Iceage lp fine, though I don't see's how it's construed as Hardcore. But I never claimed to be no Stretch Armstrong neither. Now where'd I put that writin quill?

Best wishes from Paradise,

Roland Seward Woodbe

Dan Melchior-Assemblage Blues lp.....Available NOW

2011-02-21T07:50:00.000-08:00

If nothin else, the 'Assemblage Blues' found on this here new Dan Melchior lp sees our hero revellin in a tableaux thats as far away from the Kentish curds of Medway twang as a Carolina Hush Puppy is from a Boston Butt. Though what is interestin about this rasher of fried tuneage is how Dan's done gone & conjured up a brilliantly abstract narrative that's almost like a displaced tellin of The Canterbury Tales. Is it them whiskey biscuits, or can I hear fragments in the tellin on 'Atomizer' that reminds me of the one whats told by the Knight in the books beginnin? And on goes, right through to 'Breadbin Wailing' which is more or less the Parson's Tale w/a black crow (lit up to look white). Now I admit, I am one for fancy & have been known to channel my parchedness via goblets 'n steins've all distillations in the spirit world, but stamp my fanny & call me Temperance Tad if this stunnin set've songs ain't about the best squadron of aces what's flown onto the Siltbreeze tarmac since The Shadow Ring's 'Put The Music In It's Coffin' & Jim Shepard's 'Picking Through The Wreckage With A Stick'. There wit, there's whimsy, by jove, there's darkness, recollection & revenge too. It's all manner of the human condition. Don't bottle it! It'll only blow up in your face, too pure, like greased lightnin. Why it'll melt that wallet chain right clean off them scuffy jeans of yours, I'm a tell you what. Yep, anyway you look at it Dan's gone won the blue ribbon with 'Assemblage Blues'. So pony up & have a slug.It's here to coddle your cream, but GOOD!

Roland Woodbe, Expert Mixologist

This is an edition of 500 lp's,includes free download card as well.PLEASE NOTE; a portion of all blog sales for this release will go to the Letha Melchior Donation fund.

Prices are;

15$ ppd USA
18$ ppd Canada
25$ ppd Europe
28$ ppd Australasia

Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

2011-01-23T12:03:00.001-08:00

http://melchiorfund.blogspot.com/

Kito-Mizukumi Rouber.....MIDORI MUSHI SAN CONNICHIWA 7"ep-GONE

2010-09-08T13:05:00.000-07:00

SOLD OUT
Plucking Kito-Miukumi Rouber's lp out of an anonymous year end frying pan & into our Best Of 2009 fire seemed to confound toady taste makers & blog plonkers all around Hipster Haven. To them list's are a crucial element of.....something, & let's face it, peeps love list's. Sales are generated, no argument there. Why, I'd wager that ringing endorsement of 'Otonaki Touge De Hagureta Kmr' was instrumental in said lp essentially going from under the radar to out of print by early 2010. Fancy that!
And now here we are, almost a year later & Siltbreeze is proud to offer it's followup; a 5 track 7" ep entitled 'Midori Mushi San Connichiwa'. If your a fan of the lp, I can't possibly see how this won't be in your wheelhouse. For the unfamiliar, K-MR's sound seems informed by old school Japanese genre snuffers such as Tako & Gunjogacrayon. Combining the jabbering, pan humanoid outthereness of the former w/the zoned, riffed, mutant indifference of the latter, K-MR have created a toxic, dripping blotter of sound that is most appealing to those of us who luxuriate in the humidity of the 1%. Plus, as an added laugh (their's, mine, yours, ours) they've tacked on an eerie cover snippet that is a stab in the heart to every campfire singalong & folksy hootenanny through time immemorial. Absolutely tremendous! Released in an edition of 286 to commemorate the year in the Japanese calendar when a wise man went to see the Emperor about a horse.

A Defining Moment In Definitive.....MIKE REP & THE QUOTAS-Stupor Hiatus DBL LP OUT NOW!

2010-06-21T12:39:00.000-07:00

Some of you may recall the 1st Mike Rep & The Quotas retro lp that saw the light of day in mid 1992 (entitled Stupor Hiatus Vol. II). Culled from tracks spanning 1975 to roughly 1989, that release snakebit more than a few forward thinking pinetops w/it's baffling French themed jacket art (swiped from an extant Franco dollar bin staple) + the post Third Republic lyric translations. C'est quoi ce merdier ? And how many of you knew WHAT the 1st Stupor Hiatus was anyway (answer; an early 80's 1 issue fanzine published by Mike Rep, Jim Shepard & assorted friends. Your welcome)? But as we're fond of saying around these parts "It's Mike Rep....you want logic, beam down Mr. Spock".
Anyway, cut to 18 yrs later & finally a return to form; all the tracks previously available on the aforementioned lp + FIVE other obscure (& some previously unreleased) gems now in glorious Rep-Fi & a sweet gatefold jacket to boot. It is as it should have been all along. Also includes a free download card as well. Limited edition of 1000, prices are as follows;

US-20$ PPD
Canada-23$ PPD
Elsewhere-30$ PPD

Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

Chickens 'Chicken Shit' 7" ep GONE!!

2010-05-25T12:40:00.001-07:00

OUT OF PRINT
Debut vinyl outing from Kyle & Mike (2/3rds FNU Ronnies + drum machine) following a cassette on Fan Death as well as a track contrib on last years Skulls Without Borders 10" comp. Cant say for certain where Chickens mine the toxic ore to forge their urk, but they uncannily tap into similar staub once snuffed by prime Euro movers such as early Dieter Meier & Geisterfahrer not to mention channeling the nascent vibe of Amphetamine Reptile (think Halo Of Of Flies Insecticide Stomp in particular). 4 tracks, 1 time edition of 400, no repress.

Puffy Areolas 'In The Army 1981' LP Now Available!

2010-05-25T12:30:00.001-07:00

Finally,from the land of noxious hotdogs comes the debut long player by Puffy Areolas, entitled 'In The Army 1981'. Complete & utter blackout rock, like a showdown in Tony Packo's between Monoshock & Tales Of Terror. There's no losers here folks, only weiners. Get it?
Seriously, this lp rips the scab off the end of 'Raw Power' & envisions a world of Bosch-like carnality where 'Death Trip' doesn't finish, it get's a second wind. Then a third. Is it me or are these guys just too good?! Comes w/a free download card geared to build character & strength. Not really, but you can use that as an excuse when you get Pantsed at the kegger. Just pretend your the singer. He does.

Prices are;

US-15$ PPD lp

Canada-18$ PPD lp

Elsewhere-25$ PPD lp.

Lp only on this dude, sorry.

Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

Naked On The Vague's 'Heaps Of Nothing' Now Available!

2010-05-25T12:06:00.000-07:00

Don't know why it's taken me so damned long to post these! But here they are; 1st up in the new lp, 'Heaps Of Nothing' by Naked On The Vague. Lucy & Matthew went & got themselves a real band this time, the result being a more menacing, mystifying & morose masterwork. When asked the age old question, ("what's it sound like"?) I keep tellin folks; "Imagine if 'We Buy A Hammer For Daddy' had been a release on Xpressway'? It's weird,like they've gone & blacked out the sun. You'll love it! Really, an excellent followup to their S/T debut from a couple yrs back. Prices as follows;

US-15$ PPD lp

Canada-18$ PPD lp

Elsewhere-25$ PPD lp

If anyone out there's looking for review copies, I have cd's. Just drop an email.

Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

Email to; siltbreeze@gmail.com

Take Some Urban Noise With Some Durban Poison.....New LP From Mount Carmel Now Available!

2010-04-28T12:59:00.000-07:00

Here's the debut of a new Columbus trio called Mount Carmel. However, these guys don't shake the same tree as Psychedelic Horseshit, Times New Viking or ANY of the Washington Beach Indie posse frankly. Mount Carmel are a straight ahead Blues Rock power trio, so if your yen is whetted by the likes of Cream & Groundhogs, or other stalwarts such as Humble Pie or Free, this boat will accommodate you with 1st class lodgings friend. This is no frills, nor is it ironic posturing ala Sub Pop Grunge, or a goofoff side jaunt between their serious Noise projects. An excellent review here spells it out even more;
http://still-single.tumblr.com/post/555129452/mount-carmel-s-t-lp-siltbreeze

Just remember; flares rhymes with hares. So if your feeling a bit rabbity about taking the plunge, that's cool. You might wanna wait till your bud w/the Che cap & Munchkin beard fills you in on 'what it's all about'. It's a fickle old world out there in Hipsterville. Hard to know if this'll be the next big thing or not. Until it is. Remember, you heard it here, __________.

Prices as follows (LP only);
US-15$ ppd
Canada-18$ ppd
Elsewhere-25$ ppd

paypal orders to; sltrx@pil.net

Wholesale orders please contact www.midheaven.com for further info.

THE C&B, Pre SHADOW RING Recordings 7" ep.....GONE!

2010-02-25T11:56:00.000-08:00

OUT OF PRINT
The C&B is short for Cat & Bells Club, a brief precursor that would soon be transformed into the inestimable poetics of The Shadow Ring. Studious fans of the band's releases may recognize this name from the whimsical word search found on the back cover of their 1995 7', 'Some Of Us'. Ah, finally; mystery solved & now all the ducks are on the pond.
While early Shadow Ring managed to fuse equal parts Tyrannosaurus Rex mystical recitations w/Throbbing Gristle aural idolatry, The C&B seem divinely born out of the sputtering taps of brown ale that flowed freely down the gullets of various 1st generation DIY shufflers, most notably, 49 Americans or Door And The Window. And while this is just dumb luck, there's no denying a genus, unintentional as it may be. The templates for the ruminative, droll & original wordsmithing not to mention the threadbare musical accompaniment that would soon become the hallmark for The Shadow Ring sound are now available for the 1st time ever in a 300 press 7", 4 track ep. Original artwork by founding member, Graham Lambkin.

Jim Shepard 'Picking Through The Wreckage With A Stick' lp.....SOLD OUT

2010-02-03T09:56:00.000-08:00

It's been curious to see the recent frenzied interest in all things Jim Shepard & along the way, a new blog has been set up dedicated soley to his works called 'Forever Lowman'
www. foreverlowman.blogspot.com
So fans of Jim, V-3, Vertical Slit, go & check it out. It's not a merch site, but if your looking to fill the (many, surely) gaps in his discography digitally, this is the place.
That said, while rearranging a basement full of neglected overstock, I recently came across a box of Jim Shepard's 'Pick Through The Wreckage With A Stick' lp's. I'd all but forgotten their existence; they were over runs from the pressing plant, a few I recall using for radio promo's when it was released in 1995. We didn't have enough covers for them, so just the stations call letters were written on the front of some blank jackets & a cheap printed song list was copied & affixed to the back, done. We sent off a few, the rest went into a plastic tub & filed for posterity. And today, posterity came knockin.
So here's the deal; I have 22 copies of the lp; original pressing, clean, pristine vinyl, never played. I made some mockup color covers from an original copy (these were screened & spray painted by Jim back then) for the front & b/w copies of the back + reprinted the 2 sided insert that came w/original edition. There's photo's left & above (sans insert, but it'll be in the jacket) of what I'm talking about.

Sorry, SOLD OUT.

U.S. GIRLS....European Tour Underway!

2010-02-02T13:11:00.000-08:00

U.S. Girls extensive European tour is already going, here's a schedule of upcoming shows. Catch her if you can! Also, new lp, GOING GREY is now on sale, 15$ppd US, 18$ Canada, 25$ elsewhere. Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net
Distributors, go to www.midheaven.com for wholesale requests.
And check out this swank vid for 'Red Ford Radio;
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oBgWNWZQhgo

US GIRLS EUROPEAN TOUR DATES;
Feb 1 @ La Suite / Paris
Feb 2 @ Raymond Bar / Clermont-Ferrand
Feb 3 @ Grrrndzero / Lyon
Feb 4 @ WORM / Rotterdam
Feb 5 @ Scheld’apen / Antwerp
Feb 6 @ OCCII / Amsterdam
Feb 7 @ ZAKK / Bremen
Feb 9 @ Bis Aufs Messer / Berlin
Feb 11 @ Klub 007 Strahov /Prague
Feb 12 @ Kafe Kult / Munich
Feb 13 @ Dal Verme / Rome
Feb 14 @ Zuni / Ferrara
Feb 16 @ Flat / Mestre
Feb 17 @ Hundebiss Secret Place / Milan
Feb 18 @ La Faena / Madrid
Feb 19 @ ZDB / Lisbon
Feb 20 @ TBA / Coimbra
Feb 22 @ Sex Is Disgusting / Brighton
Feb 23 @ Chameleon / Nottingham
Feb 24 @ The Head Of Steam / Newcastle
Feb 25 @ 13th Note / Glasgow
Feb 26 @ Ordinary Days / Belfast
Feb 27 @ Thomas House / Dublin
Feb 28 @ The Victoria / Birmingham
Mar 1 @ Cafe OTO / London
Mar 3 @ TBA / Copenhagen
Mar 4 @ Singsang / Malmo
Mar 5 @ Aktör & Vänner / Göthenburg
Mar 6 @ TBA / Stockholm
Mar 8 @ TBA / Helsinki
Mar 9 @ TBA / Tampere

But Your Rock Candy, Baby.....A Big One & A Small One

2010-01-25T12:16:00.000-08:00

Up till now what I's heard from Heather Leigh Murray ain't been much-that old Ash Castles cd from way back & a solo guitar lp from a yr or so ago, which I liked fine-nor could I say that my Chris Corsano collection is buldgin at the hips neither. But there ain't nothin that he ain't thumped that didn't sound hell bent & alls I do know's about Ms. Murray for sure is that she's in it for keeps, so'd I figured this duo collab what they call Jailbreak was gonna be a burner. But man, I wasn't expectin it to scream with flashbacks! The second that peddle steel cranked up in open D, it was like I was transported back to a Montose concert in late 74. I think it was w/Tull (coulda been Doobie Bros., to be honest,back then I'd see about anything) but it's alls a haze. It was frustratin times, just like now; Nixon had resigned & Ford was president, we's was in the midst of a recession as well as a war what was windin to a close, but thankfully the grass was cheap & there was plently of pills floodin the scene. I was livin in San Diego, done rotated outta the shit & cut loose from active service, so's I was lookin for good times & more's the merrier. Long story short; this Montrose's set. I'd gone down to the Sports Arena to meet some Marine buds, but got waylaid by some skimpy gal name've Toni-Jo what beguiled me w/Ripple, donkey d sticks've Mexi-bud & my 1st encounter w/a Quaalude. I knowed the 714 was supposed to create euphoria, but horned in a room-no matter how big- w/ so much active human debris, already tootled on rag 'n rot (me that is), it was gonna be anybody's call. Anyhow, back to the action, 2010; when Ms Murray rips open this lp called 'The Rocker' , she might as have been rakin them strings across the inside of my skull. There I was fightin the infernal racket w/everything I could muster, yet diggin it all the time. It was 'Bad Motor Scooter' live all over again. Ronnie was tearin into that intro back on that eventful night in Seven-Four; brain cells was meltin, worlds was collidin, the chickens of future past was comin home to roost. It was the kind've mental torture what'd make a Chinese brainwasher cream in his little red book! All's through 'Brought Down' (aka side 1) the air become thick & smelled of sweat 'n the sweet smoke of banana papers/ dirt cheeb fusin into the atmosphere. I had a damn-the-gravity feelin too, just like that 'lude had did me. Everything was movin so fast it was slowin down into practically individual snapshots of my personal demise. The wine was turnin over in my stomach, there was the distinct burnin sensation of vomit in the back of my throat. 'Cept all's I'd had was a Fresca 'n some pear cake. Then Corsano's drum's thunder into the fray like a cavalry charge. He might as well have been a thousand Denny Camassi's tubbin at once. I was knocked to my knees & for a moment I swear I could feel the soft caress of a woman's hand move gently across my tomented head. "Toni Jo!", I cried, "for fuck's sake, do not abandon me in this wonderous carnage"! I was beginnin to think that cake had growed some ergot (it'd been sittin out a while), no other explanation added up. Every now & again, I'd make out some vocals. "The Rocker" I said to myself, starin at the record cover, strugglin to hold on, "not the Red Rocker". It become a mantra & truth be told, I'd wager it's what anchored me. I was drenched in perspiration, just wetter'n an otter's pocket when the side came to an end. As for the flip (aka 'Sugar Blues), shit, that was tame in comparison; just your average North Vietnamese rocket attack where's these 2 simulate incomin rounds of mortars 'n whatnot. After what I'd just been through, I was happy to take cover behind the couch & let it play itself out. Given the choice, I'd take hittin the dirt while Katyusha missles blowed up around me to cleanin up 35 year old rancid puke what's been lodged loose by a couple've free wheelin karma dealers. I can't speak for nobody but myself but this record really shook ol' Roland Woodbe to his core. Maybe you's is made of stronger stuff, find out here;
www.family-vineyard.com

Willie Lane up & self released a fine solo lp last year that I ain't got around to reviewin but has been told by the source himself they ain't to had no more, no ways. So that settles that. Hope anyone out there what's ken glints towards the core of a Sandy Bull galaxy was able to bring home a copy've 'Known Quantity' & burn it into their cranial cosmos. Now he's gone & put out this most excellent 7", 'Arrested For Decay'/'Sleepy Hands', again on Cord Art & it's easily my favorite little record thus far in this wee year. These two works spark 'n flare with Jesus Acedo like motif's, the harmonic's & melodies on both sides fan glowin embers've desert ragas that seem psychonautically informed via moments found within grooves one might encounter on the 1st Black Sun Ensemble lp. Even the sleeve art...looks...vaguely...Why, the whole thing is a goddamn Pyknotic conundrum I tell ya! Hand numbered edition of 350 & once the words out, not even the snappiest department store Santa'll have a chance at it. Available stateside at; www.mimaroglumusicsales.com & elsewhere via; www.volcanictongue.com

Two-Won,One-Tood.....3 More Thoughts.

2010-01-20T11:44:00.000-08:00

I'm one of them guys that just don't get no amusement out've the word, Penis. Yep, don't think it's funny, never have. So's bands like Afternoon Penis, or Broken Penis Orchestra, them releases got cursory listens & then was filed into one of my billions've 'no thanks' galaxies. Call me a prude, hey, call me whatever you's will. That said, I never thought Dick Urine was that funny either. In defense I'd admit to bein an avid Rudimentary Peni fan, as much for their music as the ridiculous latin turn-of-phrase.But them's salt's to be soaked another time, what I's tryin to get at is when this feller Fred told about an lp of careless Peugeot drivers from Mulhouse what call themselves Micro Penis, well, I didn't exactly get wood, if you catch my drift.But then it showed up,and,well.....I had to admire the Nick Blinko-esque artwork & packagin, but also wonderin that if I just ignored it, might I be (whew!) dodgin some Peni inspired crud-core bullet (low expectations 'n all). But a glimpse onto their 1 sheet & a spied reference to Cromagnon's "Ritual Feast Of The Libido" & then I was suddenly piqued. After all, if you's is pullin out them guns, you better not be hornswogglin. And thankfully it ain't. Sure, it's brimmin w/the inscrutable art brut, cut up, sound collage dadaistry so primitif & splendid in the current wave've contempo French underground (El G & Oso El Roto for example). But unlike them phlegm chewers, Micro Penis stay the path of "organic" aural lobe snippage (ala Cromagnon) w/o any use of standard musical templates, be it blues, rock're what have you. This dude just beltches up the gut gas, refluxes that're both psychedelic 'n psychotronic, like if Fille Qui Mousse's 'Trixie Stapleton 291' mugged it up with Hershel Gordon Lewis' 'Blood Feast'. It's hairy, improbable, preposterously deranged & just the slightest bit sinister enough to make you think "this can't be happening to me". Oh, but it is! The perfect aural influenza for your next slumber party, choke on it here; www.rrrecords.com or direct to; http://virb.com/micro_penis

Lookin at this Work/Piles split lp I was wonderin how they's was able to afford such substandard Pettibon cover art. But then I realized it weren't his, or so it says in the insert. Truth be told, I was kind've relieved, as most of Ray's work what's not SST insinuated has been for some real less than lesser acts. And if a picture's worth a thousand words, well, I done got diarrhea of the mouth! Anyhows, it's the music what we's after, correct?. But, but, but…. Work is some (wait for it) out of work noise artists who I reckon thought they's could slum it as lo-fi No Wavers & it wouldn't surprise me none to find it's fooled some. Sure, it' got all the right trappings-short songs, punch, vim, vinegar, man, woman-but it just seems so obviously connect the dots that one can't help but laugh or ignore it. And I did, one after the other.
Piles is a 'nother kettle of fish, though I ain't sayin they's keepers. Same masculine/feminine dynamic (for lack of a better term) but an altogether stylistically hackneyed, going for it, outsider result; a snort've Billy Synth, a bump've Leslie Q, you get it, right? Gone is the days wheres I could listen to others thump a chest proclaimin which LQ lp was best. And then it was genuine appraisal, but it weren't no more interestin (to me) than Piles clumsy, organ chorglin enzymes that could. Or perhaps conjure up what you can recall from early Guv'ner, but nowadays a version most likely to inhale a burrito than inherit a trustfund.Ya hear me? But it's alls about who you know 'n like I said, there's some what's plum ecstatic by the tired warbles've both entries. And that's ok. They can feed the birds their way, I'll feed'em the truth. Ding!
www.myspace.com/workishard & www.myspace.com/pilessf

Been recievin more'n my share've emails from folks askin me my thoughts about Bill Orcutt's new lp. That & sendin me recaps've lengthy pastey-pie reviews & dandy doodle retorts. Shit, lookin at all the fancy name droppin & arid commentary, it kinda took me back to one of them Norman Mailer/Gore Vidal spats on David Susskind! That & them editorial hissy fits what Phillip Rahv 'n Delmore Schwartz'd get into at the Partisan Review. No matter high up the brow you get, it's never not entertainin.
But that's them. As for me, I'm sizin up 'A New Way To Pay Old Debts' from a number've angles, a somewhat modernized Pincer Movement you might say. First, it's hard not to give it a broad (yet accurate) stroke as Harry Pussy Unplugged. Cheap as that assessment might be, it's hard to deny.And what's wrong w/that? They was as formidable & broke down the genus of Rock as much as Blll does here to Blues (which begets____). Bearin that in mind, it's sort've like them Planet Of The Apes movies, you know, where the present is the future & you have to work backwards to see how it all came to pass. Right? Sounds good to me!
Or just dump it in the lap've Rabelais, THEE greatest satirist of all time. That same sort've reverse narrative skippers the Gargantua books. Ye, lest I get tangential, what I'm harpin on is whiles some of these string benders can be downright "Catholic" in technique 'n delivery, I sees this lp as an embodiment of the 'Do What Thou Wilt' sentiment expressed by Pantagruel & his buds. Some's find it astonishing. Me? I'm enlightened. And (at times) amused. Dr. Orcutt cuts a plucky rug as a regular goddamn Neo-Renaissance humanist. But I wouldn't expect anything less.
And there's the whole Archangel notion; various sacred pickers 'n players metaphored as Gabriel, Michael, Raphael, Uriel (benders to halo's of your choosin), etc. Go ahead, call'em out; Fahey, Reichel, Bailey, Hopkins, it ain't like I's come up w/this on my own. Hell, (get it?), I'm taken ol' Bill here as Lucifer. Not that he's been cast out've nowhere, in fact, it would appear that the Huggers of Hollowbody Heaven can't behold him enough! But there's somethin devilish in the playin on this & you don't have to be no Father Merrin to hear them licks.
An that's alls I got to say on this tater. I know it's just a bunch've bugaboo, but ya gotta admit, it beats workin for a livin!
So dig this; A New Way To Pay Old Depts. It's a fine record, whether you get it or not.
http://palilalia.com/

We'll Always Have Entebbe.....A Couple Reviews By An Old Friend!

2010-01-14T13:30:00.001-08:00

Due to some matters of national importance (more or less), I's been called away to help keep our necks red, the majority white & beer blue. So's I have left this blog in the capable hands of my good friend & comrade, Olatunbosun Olabode. We's go way back, as I'm sure he'll prattle on about somewhere's in his meanderin.He's a mite on the jovial side too, but hell, what kinda sonofabitch would I be if I wrangled in a fella for laughin?, A no good one, that's what! Anyway, see you's on the flip & don't forget; Freut euch des Lebens!
Your Editor,
Roland Woodbe

Haha, a big HELLO all the readers of Roland Woodbe blog. Maybe you know, but Roland Woodbe is GREAT facilitator for contemporary sounds of music. For him to ask me to fill those shoes, I could not say no, but also cannot hope to walk many miles in them either. I will tread slowly & for this, I hope you can understand.
I 1st meet Mr. Woodbe many yrs ago in Kampala, Uganda, where we were both working (or in Woodbe's case, spying, haha!) in the court of His Excellency, Idi Amin Dada. I was an attaché to the Minister of Health, one Henry Kyemba. Mr. Woodbe befriended me (his grasp on the Nubian dialect is outstanding) & we shared many wonderful occasions back then. His Excellency at the time was far removed from the monster he would soon become. We used to love it when, in the wee hrs of morning, just before the break of dawn, Amin would rest his Johnny Walker & begin his series of hilarious impersonations. If I would close my eyes when he would do Ed Sullivan, I would feel like I was transported to CBS Studio 50, in New York City. Really, so perfect! And when he would play his little accordion & sing 'Wasted Day & Wasted Nights' in a Donald Duck accent, I could not see a dry eye in the palace. A very funny man. But his penchant for close talking (as well as mumbling & spittle) was the undoing. Yes, Amin was a close talker & his breath was abominable. Mr. Woodbe began to spread the rumor it was so because of cannibalism. It seemed funny at the time, but no one was laughing when heads began to roll. Perhaps it was so, I cannot substantiate the atrocities of a despot. I will go on record & say this-it would not have killed him to floss. But for a dear friend who advised His Excellency on doing so, he was not so fortunate. Amin explained the execution thusly " when you have no longer a head, flossing is the least of your worries". Roland Woodbe & I began our escape from Uganda immediately.
I am now employed as a taxi driver. By chance I was at Philadelphia Airport a few months ago when who should sit in my cab but this old friend! We were very much surprised to be in each other's company again, please believe this. He told me of the Siltbreeze label & this Siltblog & when I arrived him at the requested destination, he asked me to hold on & returned to my taxi w/a parcel of cd's & records for my ownership. Of course, I have become a fan of Siltbreeze, so many wonderful treasures from this imprint that have shaken my ears. If I were asked for favorite, I could only reply "THEM ALL", hahahaha!
But my friend Roland Woodbe said he might be compelled to call upon my services one day. I said of course & it was with this understanding I am now writing to you, his readers. I hope you will appreciate my contribution.

Olatunbosun Olabode
Camden, NJ 2010

I cannot say I have had the good fortune to come across the work of Mr. Leo Coomans in the past. He would seem to be a particle, almost a footnote to the Free Improvisation scene of the Low Countries by way of a discography (prior to this,participation on 1 lp + a 7"). So it has been with much enthusiasm that I have embraced his remarkable solo lp out now on the Ultra Eczema label, entitled 'Basement Recordings 1978-1982'. For many of the 80's I lived in Bay Area of Northern California & made the acquaintance of an astute record seller by the name of Rick Ballard. He would order me many different records of Improvisation & Jazz. I would say some of my favorites were from a label called Instant Composers Pool, which was based out of The Netherlands. One of the main participants, Han Bennink, seemed equal parts intensity & playfulness. His music incorporated not only the new jazzing stylings that were free, but also the minimalist experimentations of John Cage as well as the anti-art, Dadaist sentiments of the Fluxus movement. So a real everything-and-the-kitchen-sink cacaphony might ensue on his recordings. Or perhaps he & fellow collaborators would walk, talk, whistle, make sounds of wind whipping in motion,imbibe, play ping pong, or simply fall silent. It was all fair game & astonishingly great. And that holds true on this Leo Coomans record. As stated, these are private recordings from the artist dated 78-82 & his aural canvas is alive with great splotches of aerosol & voice, saxophones (tubed, soprano & baritone), saxphone mouthpieces, bath tub's, vacuum cleaners, it's accessories, harmonica,tape recorder, piano & more voice. Interestlingly, the 1st track, "Aerosol' sounds like mutant Stockhausen while the final cut, a ludicrous deconstruction of that tired standby, 'Louie, Louie', that makes the Half Japanese version (as smidgen as it is, hahahaha!) sound like John Philip Sousa in comparison. So you see, it begins in an inner space only to end in one that is outer.Or should I say, outre? HAHAHAHAHA, I don't care! This is a truly wonderful record, the work of a gifted, unbridled musician whose wit (& talent) runs the gamut of rapier to the absurd. Please contact the following mailorders for possibility of purchase, only 300 available worldwide;
www.mimaroglumusicsales.com or www.forcedexposure.com & direct to; www.ultraeczema.com

And while my brain is full & conjuring up sounds within a jazz milieu I would like to say a few things on behalf of a greatly overlooked lp by Liquorball w/Steve Mackay entitled 'Evolutionary Squalor', self released by Grady Runyan on Rocketship Records. Hahahahahaha, no one can peg Liquorball as sounding like any one particular band. In the 90's they were able to dexterously walk over the coals of thud rock ('Fucks The Sky'), exude billowing plumes of carburetor ingested dronabinol ('Hauls Ass') or raise greasy, psychedelic hackles that resembled down syndrome Fushitsusha ('Live In Hitlers Bunker') to a small but dedicated following. The more things change, the more they stay the same as it would appear Liquorball is playing to their tried & true but I would like to say some words & maybe it might open certain ears & wallets. After all, membership has it's privileges, hahahahahaha!
Of course the main frame of reference on 'Evolutionary Squalor' is the participation of Steve Mackay. I'm sure Mr. Mackay is known to the readers here, so no need to state the obvious. What is interesting on this lp is how Mackay & Liquorball-with the help of Jason Biggs, Gordon Roberts & Conchobhar-corral a sound that insinuates (at once) Last Exit, (the French) Red Noise & Ray Russell. It is fusion, improvisation & progression all bearing down, all honking, quivering, shimmering & reverberating. As with the Leo Coomans lp, these are musicians who do not follow trends, but march & compose to the beat of their own ears & brains. It is quite mesmerizing, this 'Evolutionary Squalor'. And the name Liquorball…..hahahahahaha, I can think of some appropriate concoctions to go along with these aggressive lords of skronk. In fact, I have many times already brusied my hollow leg and lost my thinking cap while drinking generously from my stash of imported Wagari while spinning this. They say rum's don't kill people, banana's do. In the case of Wagari, it is both! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
Please feel welcome to buy this lp direct from www.myspace.com/gradysrecordrefuge or email grefuge@sbcglobal.net to check availability.

Goodness, will you look at the time? I have a taxi to drive, so I must be on my way. Thanks to Mr. Roland Woodbe for letting me sit in, I hope you have enjoyed my two cents. See you in the rain, hahahahahahaha!

Mickey Goodmill Never Did This.....An Invisible Jukebox. Sort Of.

2010-01-11T09:44:00.000-08:00

Whiles out on my morning jog (new years resolutions 'n alls) I came up on these 2 goobs just off East Lehigh & up Memphis what was sittin in a car huffin glue. Normally I wouldn't give 2 shits about this kinda thing, but the car was still runnin & as I got's right on'em I could clearly make out 'Summer Things'. They was blarin the Tyvek cd & gettin sauced! So bein an officer of the law like I sort've am- strictly rogue capacity on this-I flashed some offical lookin shit & scared they's little toasted noses almost plum off their muddled heads. But after I got my jollies funnin w/'em I invited'em back to do some record reviewin. I's jusy don't have it in me to breakdown alls these 7" records what's flooded in, so's let me introduce you's all to Doug Colson & Arch Clarrey, 2 of the Fishtown's finest.

Doug Colson-So whats youse got ta drink 'round here? (Opens the fridge, picks up a bottle of Chesterfield Ale) Oh look Arch, it's da Lord. Yo Roland, mind if we's helps ourselves?

SILTBREEZE MODERATOR-Not at all, my pleasure.

DC-(grabs & opens 2 beers, kicks closed the fridge w/the back of his foot) Your right (hands Clarrey a beer) it is your pleasure! (they laugh & fistbump each other)

SILTBLOG MODERATOR-Have a seat you two (Woodbe & the boys all sit around the kitchen table, then Woodbe goes over to turntable & play the 1st record).

Population 1280-Bedbugs/Times Square (self released)

Arch Clarrey-Oh dear, theres dat hulkin bass & spidery guitar. Somebody's got a Birthday Party record.

DC-Oh yea, 'cept nems vocals 'n lyrics is too serious. At least Nick Cave an Anita Lane wrote some funny songs. Absurd youse might say.

AC-Oh yea, nems is too serious for sure. On second thought, it's more like The Moodists. Like 'Thirsty's Callin', minus nems horns.

DC-Good one Arch (he reaches over table, they clink bottles), guy even sound like Dave Graney too. Youse know what else theys like? (Pauses, takes a long pull on his beer, sets it down & crosses hs arms) Inca Babies.

AC (almost does a spit take, recovers ) Oh my God Dougie, youse taken me back wit dat one (they high five each other)! Fuckin Inca Babies, jesus. Wow, nems is for the da ages dere, dey was like a Birthday Party Tribute band. Inca Babies….So Roland where's dis Population 1280 band from? Texas, like in the book?

SILTBLOG MODERATOR-No Brooklyn.

AC/DC (in unison) Oh.

AC-In that case nems is totally original. Every band up dere is.

DC-Yea, nems bands up dere, well, what can youse say, it's the biggest suburb in New York. Play somethin from somewhere else. I ain't one much for suburbs.
(www.myspace.com/population1280)

Puffy Areolas-Lutzko Lives/Bowel Movement (Columbus Discount)

AC (listening close) I gots ta say, nems is totally unhinged. Is this on Mystic?

SILTBLOG MODERATOR-No, they're a current band, it's Puffy Areolas, from Ohio.

DC-Whose this Lutzko? Must be a Zombie or a biker or sumthin. It says "Lutzko Lives' like he was meant to be dead but ain't. I know a few of nems round here (laughs, fistbumps Clarrey)

AC-Yea, the singers got a creepy little voice, like Chuckie & nat one nat sings for Mentally Ill.

DC-Your right! It's a good tune, but this Bowel Movemnt one, deys lost me der.

AC- Could be about heroin? Or nems Dilaudids. Nems'll really bind ya up. Takin a dump is like heaven!

DC-Oh yea, could be, I sees what youse sayin. Yea, that voice made it sound sorta "inside", likes it was alls a joke. Raven it says….is he like Zackerly or the Ghoul?

SILTBLOG MODERATOR-Not exactly. He's sort've a cult hero to some. Psych guitar player, etc. Made a private press lp that's very big w/the Acid Archives crowd.

DC-Oh yea? Hey, youse drive me back overs to my place & I'll show youse some acid archives (much laughter, high fives & finger pistols abound)!
www.columbusdiscountrecords.com

Pheromoans-Open For Business ep (Yakisakana)

DC (picks up the sleeve, has a long look, pulls on his beer, sighs) I reckon any British band what's gonna hiccup along the Country & Northern scheme've can't keeps but to sound like a little Link Wray & nems Falls. In a way nems Falls ruined it for everybody else, back in the day anyways. Theys was so unique & cut off from alls the rest over dere. Marchin to the beat of nems own drums 'n all.

AC (slides the sleeve over for a look, pushes it away) Yea, but these fellas ain't exactly like that is dey? I mean, nems got their own sound. It's kinda wobbly, kinda jerky, like a combo of speed & lager. Like a functional alchoholic methhead givin a presentation.Like Dougie here (laughs & zips a bottle cap across the room at DC).

DC-Oh yea (makes mock laughing face), well your Mom don't seem to have a problem w/it (laughs & points finger at Clarrey), least not last night no ways. But yea, I sees what Arch is sayin. Is it gonna be that every good band that steps sideways over there in England is gonna have to be called the new Fall? Fuck that! Nems Pheromoans got a good sound & sure, maybe nems owe a debt to MES & co., but then why not dissect every band whats listened to a Velvet Undergound record while we's at it? Or Beatles? Jesus H. Christ on the fuckin cross, let's just take it all back to Bill Haley & nems Comets. It's all their fault.

AC-Fuck the 50's! Yea, an fuck Richie Cunningham! Potsie…..I bet he sat on it every chance he got (laughs).

DC-(laughing) I got somethin Joanie can sit on right here (points both index fingers towards his crotch).

AC-I hear ya Dougie! (they fistbump).
www.myspace.com/pheromoans

The Get Offs-Airplane Fight/Drunk (no label)

AC-Hey, two things we's love to do (laughs), right Dougie?

DC-Oh yea. But nowadays, getting into an airplane fight's worse than sucker punchin a Giants fan at nems Eagles game.

AC-(takes in the 1st song) I like nems Get Offs. It's gotta super amateur sound on the Airplane Fight song for sure. Way mores hetero than Beat Happening, sorta like Pastels if they'd made a record for Rip Off.

DC (whistles loudly) Bravo Arch, youse really pulled one outta yr ass on dat one. I hear ya! The 'Drunk' song sounds like a mysterious Ron House band after Great Plains & before nems Slave Apartments.

AC (returning from fridge w/2 new bottles of beer) I'll drink to that! (they clink bottles).
(johnny@midheaven.com)

Adam Payne-Maybelline Weeks ep (Malt Duck)

DC (listens intently as the 1st side plays through) Yo Roland, youse sayin this guy is from Residual Echoes?

SILTBLOG MODERATOR-Yes, but that was a while ago.

DC- I guess so! This is some real DIY pop goin on, like a bizarre cross between Flying Nun & SST.

AC-Oh yea, like nems Angst meets the Clean!

DC-It kinda blows whats all nems novice critics claimin alls these new bands is like the Clean. Most of it's pure shit, but youse gotta admit, on here Arch's got a valid claim.

AC-I ain't sayin I WANT it to be like that. But it is! Ain't no denyin it. Listen to that b-side, it's like he morphed Tally Ho 'n Oddity into one song.

DC-Well, I hear whats lots of kids is just now hearin some of that Flyin Nun stuff for the 1st time. But who's listenin to Angst nowadays?

AC-You mean besides you (winks, "shoots" Colson w/finger pistol)?

DC-Touche, douchebag. It ain't a bad record though, is it? Ain't the most original record I's ever heard, but hey, youse look at nems Clean & alls theys done. Nems is like the Marines, or 101st Airborne when it comes to pop music. This Adam Payne's more like…..the National Guard. It still defends!

AC-Or like one of nems rogue cops what gets his kicks harrassin plain ol' folks just tryin to have a good time. Like him (points at Roland Woodbe).

DC-Yea (breaks a beer bottle on the side of the table & waves it) maybe Mr. Undercover fuckin asshole here needs his fuckin ass kicked, right Arch? Wastin our mornin on this record bullshit….

SILTBLOG MODERATOR (Woodbe whips out a Glock 9mm pistol replete w/silencer & points it at the hoodlums) Let's wrap it up, whatya say fellas? Otherwise the only asses gettin kicked are gonna be the ones I shoot off your fuckin faces w/this pistol. Now get the fuck outta my house before I drop you's both & leave yr scag bodies to rot behind the Acme. Don't think this is a fuckin joke (RW aims pistol & cocks hammer. AC & DC run off the premises & down the street like they was shot out've a cannon. So much for singles roundup).

Moral Of This Story; Joggin is overrated. Join a gym. Or eat less or somethin. And not all glue sniffers is Tyvek fans. Some of'em prefer Eat Skull (Ding!) but I think that's more of a Kensington thing.
(www.maltduckrecords.com)

When Big Things Happen On Little Records.....Some 7" Reviews

2010-01-09T14:11:00.001-08:00

Examinin the insides of the Placenta Popeye/Reverse Mouth 7" I's seen where the 'Cent Pops was French so I reckoned I was in for some Dustbreeders like harshness. Not so, instead these merde slingers is more like a robust mirepoix of Dead C, Michio Kadotani Band & Sic Alps braisin talent dunt into ear dinner. Reverse Mouth also make some good aural zorp & w/ Cabaret Voltaire b-side elan, conjure up a séance where an immanent deity does a standup bit about Aleister Crowley's bad breath. Don't get too close! Entitled 'Baby Blues Kids' (the split itself, not that track) I really was expectin this to suck some serious Industrial ass, but it's pretty damn neat, so hooray. Numbered edition of 400, available through; www.tediumhouse.com , www.midheaven.com

Remember how there was that whole Hawkwind trend w/bands in the 90's? No, too young you say? Well it happened & might still be goin on, I don't know. Don't get me wrong, it was fun-most of the time-but after a spell, it got tired. What? Whaddya call me? Sorry, I's got someone on my intercom askin me for money. If I was "in the field" I could just shoot'em, drop'em in a ditch & that'd be the end of it. But uh... where were we?
Oh, I gotta tell you's I was one happy psy-ops motherfucker when I got this Glitter Wizard, 'Black Lotus/Witch's Limbo' 7" in the mail & had me a big heap've Deep Purple blues rock explosion all over my turntable. Maybe you don't think Deep Purple is cool. But then if you knowed about half what I does, you'd be doin this blog instead of me. And w/that smidgen've knowledge, getting a brand new 7" what sounds like a sideways sonicstruction of 'Highway Star' b/w 'Maybe I'm A Leo' would be almost as boss as getting an eightball've coke & twin strippers for your 60th birthday. That's right. Listenin now, punk? Sure, I've heard talk've Monster Magnets, which reminds me; there weren't no bigger Monster Magnets than Deep Purple in their prime. Unless it's Glitter Wizard. NOW. I think we're done here. Now put that cock in your mouth & get back to work.
www.myspace.com/glitterwizard

True Story; Someones picked up a copy of this 7" for me whiles they was on vacation down in Sydney, we're talkin 6-8 months ago. Now theys don't live here in the Fishown, or even Phila, but not so far away that they couldn't just send it in the mail . What would it cost, 3 bucks? But they never seemed to have an extra 3$ for their ol bud, Roland Seward Woodbe. Hell, theys even stopped around since, TOLD me about the record (& how they'd forgotten it, can you believe it?) & at that point I squeezed 5$ in their pauper paws & said "just send it". Come to find they spent that money on a Ped Egg (you can't make this stuff up). Theys was just stringin me along. So long story short; I finally got it (I even paid for the funeral)-& boy was it worth the wait! The ping pong male/female vocals IS Icarusly close to the Royal Trux sun, but Circle Pit's stripped away any Glimmer Twin worship from their hopped up trouble psych & its lead guitarist Angela Bermuda what fuels this fire w/gasoline. 'Total Waste' is a careening, reckless drive but it's the flip, 'Every Body Left' where the smell of buckshot & whiskey really permeates the landscape. An when she taps her foot onto that talent pedal, you just know their days as Koala petters is numbered. And from what Kevin Failure & Matt Horseshit has told me, the live spectacle's even more buff. Buckle up! Somebody oughta look into some distro on this'un, but quick. www.myspace.com/circlepit

If This Were A Guitwar, But Then Again, No.....Three New Ones!

2010-01-08T10:44:00.000-08:00

I know this New Rock Syndicate lp's been around a while but that Rouber's lp got me all hot to check out more Japanese styling's so here I am. Excuse me for not bein no Matthew Perry, but I ain't been keepin up w/names, bands 'n side projects of all these players. I think the guitarist here, Kawakguchi Masami is/was in LSD March (at least) & the other fellers…so sorry, but I have no clue. Outta the gate this thing rings heavy w/Rallizes bells; that slow buildup that eventually explodes into a guitar solo meltdown, then comes back to expire. Okay! The next couple've tracks just seem like eastern blues workouts, nothin real pro or con to speak of. Like the Shinki Chen lp in a way w/less Duane Allman & more Alvin Lee bobble heads nodding in time. It's the b-side what really had me goin though. It's arguable if any other country has sallied forth as many string benders what's latent Hendrix acolytes as much as Japan & hey, that's a good thing. But hows most of'em have seen fit to bury this …..influence…..is whats tellin. There's a few real intense moments on 'Echo' where I was thinkin Masami was gonna really lay it down, but after a few growls & feedback grunts, well…..I guess what I'm sayin is the Hendrix vibe is there, it's just been displaced. It's like these guys decided to channel Jimi & Co. by way of a brace've mysterious Trower & Mahogany Rush bootlegs & that distillation is 'Cat Vs. Frog'. And I gotta couple've bro's that'll dig this just fine. Me? I reckon I need a few more thumbs runnin the fret. Available via; www.dorkinglabs.com/palindrone

Men who ain't afraid to be seen in public sportin midriff's might beg to differ, but I'm gonna give it to the French as the true purveyors of Prog Rock. Say what you will about Canterbury, Krautrock, blah, blah blah, at the end of the day you'll be tipplin Calvados & sweatin aspic like you was a Spam loaf come to life. The Gallic power of persuasion. And they's invented Musique Concrete too & ain't no flatass hiphugger's anywhere disputin that posit. Cause it ain't conjecture. It's truth. They did not however invent Punk, though it is their penchant to reinvent-theoretically-& lately they's been at the forefront of some Chrome damaged, post No Wave, syntho oriented destructo-blat that's as good as anything goin. So when a couple of them from there called Accident Du Travail decided to collaborate for a project of Ondes Martenot recordings (LOOK IT UP!-Capt'n Siltbreeze), I was expectin shards of wood & pearly keys bein strewn from here to Timbuktu. But paint my face 'n call me Marcel Marceau if this ain't a lovely & beautifully paced ep. Comprised of 24 minutes've lusterous hamonics as well as some tweaked melodies, this really taps into the cranium like a perfect bridge between Boulez & Lard Free. Great modal progressions too, hey, if this was as '75 as it sounds, you can bet your Birkenstocks it would've been on that NWW list. And if you didn't know it was members of Cheveu & Cradle Of Smurf whats behind this, well, you wouldn't know it. On a cold day like we got here, these sounds really warm up the room. Bruit Direct delivers another winner, hat's off to'em.
www.bruit-direct.org

Not that you's was payin attention, but to get back to what I was sayin yesterday about the new Aussie scene, it's brimmin w/vitality & variation. So it seemed apropos to deliver the dirt on The Deadnotes, which is a trio what hail from Brisbane. They's got an lp entitled 'Orange Trumpet' that's come out on the Soft Abuse label what's a pickle & a half. 30 track's of playful, armchair whatsis, why I'd have tagged'em for a Melbourne band if I'd hadn't been clued in! Via trumpet, guitar, drums & occasional casio, these guys slice the staccato like ripe mangoes destined for a rum filled blender. Perhaps a sloppy nod to Laughing Clowns, a wink to Essendon Airport, maybe even an intuitive nudge to the drollery of Trevor Wishart & Steve Beresford as well. Anyway you's shake it, theys got plenty've pepper for the pot. Edition of 400, go to; www.softabuse.com

Advanced Colouring, 2010 Style.....New V/A LP's from Albert's Basement

2010-01-07T10:57:00.000-08:00

I can't speak for the youths of today, but not that long ago if one was to get embroiled in a jaw about Australian Punk & whathaveyou's, you'd more times than not find yrself listenin to gab about Radio Birdman, Saints, Scientists, Birthday Party, maybe even SPK if someone in the room was sportin leather jodhpurs. And there weren't nothin wrong (Grong?) about that, in fact, only a fool would deny any their high placement in a fanboy's peckin order. But the country's scene burned bright from all corners left of the dial, whether it bein the aforementioned or equally lethal, yet more obscure talents that lay just beneath the untamed savannah. The recent M Squared boxset released by Vinyl On Demand is a good example, but also great cd comps from recent yrs past such as Can't Stop It!, Murder Punk & Shakedown (to name a few) have archived/revived the shambling, twee, art damaged, erratic, eccentric, punk, post & puh sounds of yore, stitchin together a between the lines history of the continent's teeming cesspool of talent. And it's just kept rollin, I mean, the names have changed, but the OZ underground seems as formidable as ever. Tons've bands, lot's've small labels, hell, most is even takin the plunge & gettin vinyl out (again). So when I seen these 2 comps listed on the Tedium House site, I was more than intrigued. Released on an upstart label called Albert's Basement & documentin the vibrant Melbourne scene, they's simply called '02.06.07 & 'The Warm Cupboard'. The emphasis (on 02.06.07 esp.) is post twee, bedroom pop (recorded live to computer in said boudoir) of a distinct K variety, but the overall joi de vivre of the thing reminds me of old faves like 'Alive In The Living Room' & maybe even the X/pressway Pileup cassette, seein as how new & excitin all that seemed at the time. There's a fragile unsteadiness to all the performers,yet the needles get thread but good & the recording is standup for all. Not to cast stones, but as jinky as Extreme Wheeze's ode to Scrubs is, it don't come close to Meatus Murder's opus roast to said drama (just sayin is all. And givin props to Meatus Murder, I mean, who's talkin about them anymore?). If your go-to box've vinyl includes the early Go Betweens, Particles or Cannanes, yr gonna want this pronto. Comes in a cool, handpainted jacket, insert for followin along, all's that's missin is some vegan recipe cards.
Entry deux-The Warm Cupboard-is more posh in sound as well as contributors. At least on this one I knowed a few of the dropins ( Hi God People, Fabulous Diamonds at least). This one lacks the cuddly kitten cuteness of the previous release, but I think that's called variety. Since this one is tracks supplied by the various bands, it's an oddsbodikins of hoo's & howls. There's even a couple of pro soundin indie blingers that should have Pitchfork plinkers doin pecker pogo's when they discover this , on their own of course. Some cool instrumental swirls & squiggles via Free Choice & Aux Assembly that almost sound like they could've been culled from long lost Innocent Records masters & the last band, Bleak Infinity bring it all home w/some mangy blather that sounds like a Royal Trux/Magic Markers freestyle. And of course the tracks w/Hi God's & Fab D's. Perhaps not as ear poppin as the '02.06.07' one but no less entertainin. And the price is right, so why not spring for both? The cover on this'un ain't as bode neither, but the insert has hand drawn abstracts to keep'em individualized, so there.
Yep, lots doin in Lager Land & we'll see where Alberts Basement goes from here. One of these days I gotta get down theres & check it out for myself, but until then, it's ears only at;

www.tediumhouse.com

or contact these vegemite nibblers direct at; mike_zul@hotmail.com

Sketches Of Spleen.....2 New LP's On The Milvia Son Label.

2010-01-06T09:55:00.000-08:00

I would've sworn I reviewed the 1st Bad Drumlin Grass lp, An Invigorating Scent Of… a yr or so back but I'll be damned if I can find any proof to that. And now I can't find the dang lp nowheres but I gotta say, I liked it fine. The Grass is 2 fellers what play a mix of Takoma shimmer crossed w/an assortment've Woodstock rural rock so they ain't neither one (Fahey/Basho worship) nor the other (Dylan/Band/Happy Traum apologists)). That would be my broad stroke've what's doin on that debut. Hailin from the land of the vegan tweaker & useless PHD (Berkeley, Ca to the rest of us), BDG seems to be something of an anomaly in the bay area scene. Or so I reckon, hell I don't know everyone out there, but those I did ask didn't know who the fuck I was goin on about. I's told they are separated by a certain number've degrees from the Sublime Frequencies bunch too. Somethin about either buyin (or sellin) one're the other hash or a wife, or maybe it was bustin out one're the other from some ding dong Pacific island shitshack torture cell for said infraction(s). Alls I know is they gotta story & it sounds like a good one. But like a lot of things that pass through the portals of this blog, I'd all but forgotten'em. Then a box arrived not so long ago & it was new swag from the Grass & their flagship, Milvia Son Records. And shitfire & damnation if they ain't plied w/the gifts that keep on givin. And if you don't know what that is, pony up.
There's 2 lp's what come, them & a 7" that I's done misplaced (sorry fellers). The 1st one is another vinyl installment in the Bad Drumlin Sound saga entitled 'Live At Timber Cove' & it's a pretty big departure from that 'Invigorating Scent' lp. Side a is mastered at 45 & the ambient soar of the sidelong track ('The Expanding Universe') is as crisp as a duckskin wonton. The Drumlin's boys is well informed & have composed a deep & beautiful piece that channels the apex Canterbury prog moves of Quiet Sun , Fripp/Eno, as well as some Cluster love thrown in for good measure. The flip contines on in a similar vein though the narrative becomes more fraught 'n menacin, sort've like Far Out witchily coverin 'Set The Controls To The Heart Of The Sun'. And I grant you, that ain't nearly as gothed out as Psychic TV retellin the same tune, but dear reader, what would you have me say? I am simple man, born of a solitary gender & it has caused me no confusion whatsoever. I think the 1st book of Porridge would approve've the timbre & tension Bad Drumlin Grass convey on this track & let's face it, when the lights are out, we's all the same anyway. Or ….? 300 pressed, your gonna have to tune in to find out.
The other little engine that did was an lp from what I presumed to be outfit called Old Yeller & The Pigbites' but in truth is a lone plucker/singer by the name've Bob Frankford. And like the, uh, great visonary he must be, Bob seen his quest in true Blakeian enlightenment. Sez Bob "I wanted to sing & play like Dylan & I wanted to be all the original members of the Dead". And like the best taskmasters of the unhinged, what Bob attempted & what was achieved is 2 gloriously different things. Entitled 'Songs For Nadine', to my ears this dog runs right up there w/'Attic Demonstration', Prominent Disturbance, Peter J Cox's 'Running Away With Yourself', Parameter, any of the best artists inhabitin the Acid Archives. And true, it could all be a ruse, this bein the time of artifice & counterfeit weirdness (kudos to Boots/C.C./Snake & Remus). But I ain't Trevor Roper & this ain't the Hitler Diaries, so I ain't got no reputaton to stake. Alls I know is that the bread baked by Old Yeller & The Pigbites is warm & welcomin. Long may it rise. This is a small edition , 300 or so, might as well hit'em up direct at; www.milviason.com
& be sure to order the 7" comp while yr at it. It's gotta be tippy too (now where the hell did I put that thing?).

The Duvel Made Me Do It.....New LP's By Preggy Peggy & The Lazy Babymakers + Glands Of External Secretion.

2010-01-04T09:57:00.000-08:00

As cornball as it is, I's always had carried a fancy for them fatso jokes what was something to the effect that when so&so sat around the house they really SAT-AROUND-THE-HOUSE. But that's how I am. You can tickle w/me with a nickel & I'll laugh. So I reckon it ain't no surprise that a couple've releases by America's premier collagists what donk around the Chitlin Circuit for Cutups has me pinned & wheezin like a tubercular monkey huffin on a menthol air freshener. And I guess that they's have been embodied w/the Ultra Eczema imprint shouldn't be no shock neither. I can't say that I's been a stalwart supporter of the label (in that I don't own everything what's been released) but I don't think there's another contempo what's doin as fine a job when it comes to subsonic howls, buff packaging & an overall 101% singular aesthetic. Whether it's the eye poppin Brut brushwork, the brow bendin cut & paste or aural gnarl, Ultra Eczema is the perfect distillation of RRR subterfuge, Bananafish abstract chicanery & Chocolate Monk hodgepodge prowess. So like I was sayin, it weren't no major suprise when I seen lp's by Preggy Peggy & The Lazy Babymakers as well as Glands Of External Secretion was ripe for pluckin. Takin the plunge was easy, cause the sure thing is always my favorite wager.
Preggy Peggy & The Lazy Babymakers is some cads & a cadess what hail from around Boston & if your feet ain't completely flat, you's probably know more about'em than I. My intro was that I's was given a cd of theirs some time ago & boy what a glorious mess it was! Imagine a Smegma fan what was dropped on its head as a baby & thought 'Pigs For Lepers was, what-hell, I dunno-"Sgt. Peppers" or somethin. This lp called 'Get An Ace Case Of Measles' keep that, uh, Psychedelic wheelchair rollin along whiles also rainin clouds of hilarity down by way of cuckoo narratives, theatrical gabbery & an overall ellusive pastiche that explodes like globules of thorazine suppositories, creating whoozy, exploding, Zapruder-esque tapestries've ooze that will keep Pop-Yuk theorists contemporizing whether any of'em were ever really there (here?) or not (the wind whispers; "nooooo"). As for The Glands Of External Secretion, I'd be lyin if I said I weren't mostly curious about hearin the contrib of our headless leader, Tom Lax, on that 1st track. I knowed I had perused this earlier-when it was a cdr on the Oz label From The Same Mother- & didn't hear shit, but I reckoned the flora would've been flushed outta the fuzz when it come to vinyl enhancement. But I could no more make out his "cutlery" than I could the apparition of Toni Kukoc in the appendage of Michael Jordan when he pranced around in that underwear commercial back in the day. But no foul's been called. To be honest, if his clank had been too prominent, I'd probably never hear the end of it! Alls I know for sure is the Glands have plenty of glowin eggs in their radioactive basket on this "Meat Enhancement' lp. Things really hit the apex (for me anyways) on the 2nd track 'Sausage' when it sounds like a brace of Jedi light sabers crashing into orgone boxes that then opens up into an apocalyptic landfill where ravenous seagulls gnaw the broken capillaries out've yr cheeks while toothless sine-wave bums rifle yr pockets for sugar-lint. Surely your holdin, give it up! Seymour Glass & Babs Manning have concieved a minor masterpiece on this one. I'd pontificate more about it all but I got a spy plane to catch. I do know this; it's been a regular Goddamn treat to sit around the house these past few days lettin the luminuous aural snot 'n bile of Preggy Pegs & The Glands choot through my ears & around brain. May they forever diet of carcinogens & pass the gas of champions. Those what's curious try;
www.tediumhouse.com
&
www.weirdorecords.com
or go direct to;
www.ultraeczema.com

I'd reckon these is in editions of 300 or less, so bray soonishly

The Best Of 2009.....Kito Mizukumi Rouber's 'Otonaki Touge De Hagureta Kmr' LP

2009-12-23T16:00:00.000-08:00

"It's that time of year again when…." is alls I've been readin lately. Same old preamble to the same old thing; best of year lists. And there ain't nothin wrong w/that. Folks wanna fuss about tryin to contain a few special things for others to savor, concur with or ridicule, it's their prerogative. I just ain't got the inclination. I heard lot's of swell records, most of'em comin off the Siltbreeze imprint. I ate lot's of good food too, most of it by my own hand. Times I went to the place for the thing & got the stuff, I can't say I didn't enjoy myself. Sometimes it was fancy, others, not so. I seen me some good live shows as well, but hell, just about anytime I can get out to see live music it's a special occasion. Besides that….
I would like to take this opportunity & say thanks to Times New Viking for helpin engineer the Axemen's US Tour. Also to anyone what bought a record on Siltbreeze or went & saw a band what's flyin our colors. On the expat front, It's been a goddamn hoot to see people shittin themselves over Bill Orcutt's lp though personally it ain't no surprise to me that it's as good as it is. Same holds true w/Graham Lambkin's newest cd.
But the real reason I came on was to say my absolute favorite thing-record wise-that has me astounded in the last fragrant fumes of 09 is this lp by Kito-Mizukumi Rouber. They's a Japanese trio & if you's know anything about the Nippon undergrounds it's that thems that excel take whatever it is that's their "style'-be it psych, blabber, smoke, noise,or scuzz-& stretch it, nay, ABSORB IT ,only to regurgitate the guts back out into some kind've unique & brain scramblin mutant code speak. And Otonaki Touge De Hagureta Kmr is just about the most deleriously wrecked thing to come out of the land of the risin sun since…well, how about ever? Imagine some Kabuki crime wave dusters what's like the livin embodiment of Danny & The Dressmakers. More, how sick would a comparison of Shockabilly coverin the Shaggs sound? Or vice versa. This spastic masterpiece is all that, all that & more. But I can't aptly describe the more as it ain't been deciphered. Not yet. Not on this planet anyway. My old campadre Jim Shepard once asked "When they finally come, will they be metal or meat?". Well James, they's is here, callin themselves Kito Mizukumi Rouber & the answer to yr query-as near as I can figure-is BOTH. This is so far beyond the pale of in-the-know Blobber & Twatster snoots conception of formidable kookery that it ain't no wonder they've kept their heraldin to a dull roar. It's too much for'em. Some of them bo's would have you believe they eat this kinda Gorp for breakfast, but believe me, one dose of this & they wouldn't even be able to pony up to the table. The #1 monster of 2009 & only by about 10 miles or more. Thanks to Ultra Eczema for releasin this Bear. Surely limited,Dig it here;
www.mimaroglumusicsales.com

And a Merry Christmas & Happy New Year's to all.

Your Editor,

Roland Woodbe

Skulls Without Borders-V/A Sampler.....Now Available!

2009-11-10T09:54:00.000-08:00

THIS ITEM IS SOLD OUT

Super limited 10" compilation highlighting some've the more potent Alkanes bonding the scene at the moment. On side Carbon, Chickins (2/3rds FNU Ronnies + bud) wriggle around like Geisterfaher corroding in cheese whiz, Dan Melchior fuzz- belts a wry 'n savory take on ear benders & Puffy Areolas fuse Hawkwind & Tales Of Terror for a deathride down Hell's highway. Side Hydrogen starts off w/Tommy Jay & Friends shakin smoke via some Harrisburg calypso, Sic Alps blindside a Kevin Ayers cover & Kurt Vile/Violators make like Neil Young/Crazy Horse off the beach & tucked into a cannabinoid submarine. All tracks exclusive to this release, black on black double silkscreened cover (though the resolution here appears otherwise), screened & rubberstamped back, one time edition of 300 available. SOLD OUT.

Tropa Macaca's 'Sensacao Do Principio' LP Now Available!

2009-10-19T07:34:00.000-07:00

Third lp of outer-key futuristic psychedelia from these Portugese trance dealers. Let's say you snort a line've old fashioned mescaline off the ass of PK Dick; the euphoria is immediately transportable to an oozing discotheque shimmering in the glitter of C-Beams. Watch as Precog's bubble & melt. Who needs them anyway? It's the 21st Century, so no smoking! Besides, everyone's telling their cigarettes to shut up nowadays, I mean, IN THE FUTURE. Perky Pat Layouts might promise eternal life, but they're gonna need a soundtrack to sell it. What could be more suitable than 'Sensacao Do Principio'? Earth is blistering & this rocket only has room for 500, so get on board now. We're only making one trip. The Deliverer has spoken.

US-15$ ppd.

Canada-17$ ppd.

Elsewhere-25$ ppd.

Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

Times New Viking 'Dig Yourself" Repress October Sale!

2009-10-07T10:29:00.000-07:00

To celebrate the re-release of Times New Viking's debut lp 'Dig Yourself', we're offering up the lp for a discounted price (see below) for the rest of this month (that's October 2009 in case you read this in the future). The band is finishing up a European tour & will soon embark on a full blown US extravaganza, many of the dates featuring NZ's legendary AXEMEN playing in support. Check the band's respective MySpace pages for up to date touring info.

DIG YOURSELF 2009 Repress October Discount;

US/Canada-12$ ppd

Elsewhere-20$ ppd

Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

Tour info;

www.myspace.com/timesnewviking

www.myspace.com/nemexa

Local Flavor In A Variety Of Destinations.....BLUES CONTROL ON TOUR!

2009-10-06T11:35:00.000-07:00

Get Out & see'em!

On the road again...

October 10 - Oberlin OH - THE 'SCO w/ Kurt Vile, Puffy Areolas

October 11 - Ypsilanti MI - DREAMLAND w/ Tyvek

October 12 - Princeton NJ - WPRB - in-studio 3pm EST

October 16 - Philadelphia PA - PILAM w/ Watery Love, Puerto Rico Flowers

October 18 - New Haven CT - BAR

October 19 - Ithaca NY - THE SHOP

October 20 - Scranton PA - THE BOG

October 21 - Pittsburgh PA - GARFIELD ARTWORKS w/ Puffy Areolas, Centipede

Eest

October 22 - Cincinnati OH - ART DAMAGE LODGE w/ Wild Gunmen, Puffy Areolas

October 23 - Louisville KY - LISA'S OAK STREET LOUNGE w/ Sapat, Raw Thug

October 24 - Chicago IL - EMPTY BOTTLE - early show w/ Ga'an, Axis:sovA

October 25 - Madison WI - GOOD STYLE SHOP

October 26 - St Paul MN - TURF CLUB w/ Chinese Stars

October 27 - Kansas City MO - RECORD BAR

October 29 - Salt Lake City UT - KILBY COURT - early show

October 29 - Salt Lake City UT - URBAN LOUNGE - late show

October 30 - Boise ID - NEUROLUX

October 31 - Olympia WA - THE NORTHERN - Halloween w/ Little Claw, Tyvek,

Christmas

November 1 - Seattle WA - FUNHOUSE w/ Little Claw

November 2 - Vancouver BC - LITTLE MOUNTAIN STUDIOS

November 3 - Portland OR - SOMEDAY LOUNGE

November 5 - San Francisco CA - HEMLOCK TAVERN w/ Hank IV, Celine Dion 2013

November 6 - Oakland CA - CONTINENTAL CLUB w/ Sic Alps, Jaws

November 7 - Sacramento CA - LUIGI'S SLICE w/ The Duchess and the Duke, Greg

Ashley

November 8 - Santa Cruz CA - CREPE PLACE w/ Lucky Dragons, Javelin

November 9 - San Luis Obispo CA - CROSSROADS

November 10 - Irvine CA - UC IRVINE w/ Pocahaunted

November 11 - Los Angeles CA - SYNCHRONICITY w/ Pocahaunted

November 12 - San Diego CA - SODA BAR w/ Spirit Photography

November 13 - Phoenix AZ - TRUNK SPACE

November 16 - Denton TX - J&J'S PIZZA w/ Fungi Girls, Darktown Strutters,

Silver Shampoo

November 17 - Austin TX - THE MOHAWK

November 18 - Houston TX - MANGO'S w/ The Wiggins

November 19 - New Orleans LA - ALLWAYS LOUNGE

November 21 - Nashville TN - DINO'S w/ The Cherry Blossoms, Ttotals

November 22 - Asheville NC - HARVEST RECORDS

November 23 - Chapel Hill NC - NIGHTLIGHT

http://www.myspace.com/bluescontrol

http://twitter.com/bluescontrol

Out Amongst The Naked Prey.....MANTLES Debut LP Now Available!

2009-09-16T11:11:00.000-07:00

Hot on the heels of their great 7" for the Mt. St. Mtn. label is the debut longplayer from Mantles. If your at all familiar w/their 2 previous releases, then you know the Mantles have tapped into a Pop portal that infuses the swirling ballroom psychedelia of their SF forebearers as well as the post Velvets strum & jangle one might associate w/early releases found on the Flying Nun & Down There labels. This s/t lp features 10 tracks, a printed 2 sided lyric insert + free digital download card. The band has just also embarked on their 1st ever US tour, heading East in support of Ty Segall. You'll find dates & venue info below. Catch them if you can.

Tracklisting;

1-Disappearing Act
2-What We Do Matters
3-Look Away
4-James
5-Don't Lie
6-Burden
7-Testerday's Gone
8-Samantha
9-Bury Me Dead
10-Thin Reminder

Price as follows;

US-15$ ppd
Canada-17$ ppd
Elsewhere-25$ ppd

Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

TOUR DATES:

Sep 13 2009
8:00P
Ottoman Empire w/ Ty Segall
Chicago, Illinois
Sep 14 2009
8:00P
The Majestic (in the cafe) w/ Ty Segall & Woods
Detroit, Michigan
Sep 15 2009
8:00P
Sneaky Dee’s w/ Ty Segall
Toronto, Ontario
Sep 16 2009
8:00P
Divan Orange w/ Ty Segall
Montreal, Quebec
Sep 17 2009
8:00P
Fitzies Pub w/Ty Segall
Binghampton, New York
Sep 18 2009
8:00P
Death By Audio (as part of ’The Maze’)
Brooklyn, New York
Sep 19 2009
8:00P
Terrace Social Club at Princeton w/ Ty Segall
Princeton, New Jersey
Sep 20 2009
8:00P
The Mercury Lounge w/ Golden Triangle & Ty Segall
New York, New York
Sep 21 2009
8:00P
Maxwells w/Ty Segall & Digital Leather
Hoboken, New Jersey
Sep 25 2009
8:00P
Gonerfest afternoon BBQ!
Memphis, Tennessee
Oct 1 2009
8:00P
ALBUM RELEASE PARTY AT THE EAGLE!
San Francisco, California
Oct 3 2009
8:00P
KDVS’ Operation: Restore Maximum Freedom Fest
Davis / Plainfield, California
Oct 4 2009
8:00P
Hub w/ Dreamdate
Sacramento, California
Oct 17 2009
8:00P
Fuzzplex with Black Time, Shannon & the Clams, Glitter Wizard and Larry and the Angriest Generation!
Oakland, California
Nov 7 2009
8:00P
hemlock with the finches
San Francisco, California

Tyvek Shirts Now Available! Limited Run! Get One Now!

2009-09-10T12:43:00.000-07:00

You've admired the design on Matt Z's drum head, now wear it! That's right, Tyvek t-shirts, who'd have thunk? These are 100% Gildan heavy cotton, made in Haiti (believe it or not, people care). I have sizes small through extra large (that means medium & large are available too) & even 3-4 XXL ones. 1st come, 1st serve.

Prices are as follows;

US-16$ ppd

Canada-17$ ppd

Elsewhere 20$ ppd

Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

GAS-Compressed Gas 7" E.P. Now Out Of Print.

2009-08-19T11:13:00.000-07:00

ALL GONE.

Gas is a Christchurch trio whose members have fronted/rocked some of that city's more key outer fringe bands (McGoohans, Scorched Earth Policy & The Shallows to name but three). Recorded between 1996 to 1998, the six tracks that make up 'Compressed Gas' are a heady mix of unspecified Nuggets era Garage/Psych meets the miasmic, Post Industrial streetwaves of Hearthan era Pere Ubu. Like I said, six tracks=fourteen minutes of music, edition of 300. If you can find a better deal, I'll buy you a cracker.

Tiger Tank Not Included.....NEW Teenage Panzerkorps Shirts! Limited Run, Get'em Now!

2009-07-31T10:36:00.000-07:00

That's right, new shirts, this time for Der TPK, designed by bassist, Boy True. We only did a small batch of these, roughly 12 per size, so it's 1st come, 1st serve. White shirts, black silkscreened ink, pretty sharp if I do say so myself. Sizes are Small, Med., Large & XL. 100% cotton, made by Gildan. Prices are as follows;

20$ ppd US

22$ ppd Canada

27$ ppd elsewhere

Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

Tres Hombres.....Check'em Out!

2009-07-11T08:58:00.000-07:00

Hardy-har, them folks up to De Stijl likes keepin it interestin. They's is distributin a 7" by a car full've clowns what's eager to pass themselves off as a misbegotten Fuck Off band called Kandalini Nivag Retsevi. Even went & copied the front've the 'Weird Noise' ep as a cover. It ain't all that bad've a reenactment neither. I mean, the fidelity on them Fuck Off (& related) tapes was pure crud, as is this, so if you's was to pitch it to me as '012 chewing through the Gong songbook' I'd be humored enough to work the count. As far as counterfeits go, this 3 dollar bill has some grit. And guess what? Only 200 pressed ( wow, what a suprise!-Capt'n Siltbreeze). Speculators go to; http://www.destijlrecs.com/ for more info.

There seems to be a new school've tadpoles out there what's readily searchin for & drinkin from the bilge pump've feedtime nowadays. But how many of'em can say they's cottoned to an lp by a band called 3 Toed Sloth? Relegated to history's dustbin as a 'feedtime offshoot' in actuality the only thing them bands shared was drummer Tom. Ok, the Sloth invoked a similar lapsarian rumba, but they's also sputtered along on an open plain what's only other antipodean inhabitants was maybe the Gordons. Existing for a minute in the early 90's, the band sallied on long enough to release one lp before makin themselves scarce. But like the bard said, 'you can't keep a good man down'. The fella what cracked the whip back then was one Andrew Robinson & not only is he armed w/a small load 've recently exhumed 3TS lp's, there's also a new imprint (called Great Dividing) & a couple've 7"ers for the hawkin as well.
The 1st what I heard was via an outfilt called Exiles From Clowntown ( what'd you call me?-Capt'n Siltbreeze) & on one side they's graze in a pasture what's diabolic root has discordantly spread 'n become more the norm than the exception in corners've the current Oz fauna, right down to the rhetorical poetics. And the Exilers chew it like champs. The flip is one of them instumentals that thrive in the post, post VU sub-tropics of the southern hemisphere. It's strumble could best be articulated as traipsin over a 'bridge to nowhere', one where everybody from the Clean, X, Bilders, Eddy Current to Exiles From Clowntown have & continue to cross with remarkable elan.
I'm takin a wild guess that arob is a Exiler & hell, for all I knows he may even be (or have been) a Mu Meson. I mean really, 5 years to complete a track? Anyways, it's finally seein the light've day on this split 7" & as such is now a collab w/another mysterious lunk what goes by soottyb. Entitled 'They Sent Me Into Space Today' them two exude some sci-fi percussive/synth bork that blot's yr ears like an extraterrestrial beam from a Jupiter moon. The other track is solo arob w/guitar + a field recording of Cicadas. I have found it to be a most befitting soundtrack for our evening ritual've muddling lime & mint in preparation for the pre prandial round've Mojito's. 'Nothin like a swarm of pestulance to herald in the evening cocktail hour' sez me. Indubitable at either 45 or 33 rpms too. Glug, glug, I'll drink to that! Not many of these was made, go to http://www.greatdividing.com/ for purchase & don't be afraid to pester Andrew about them 3 Toed Sloth lp's neither. It's worth your peep.

This Little Piggy Went To Market. This Little Piggy Stayed Home.....A Couple've New Ones!

2009-07-06T09:55:00.000-07:00

There's some've us what's been waitin eons for the Brits to get a leg up in the whatsis of current underground shenanigans. Shimmy Rivers And And Canal looked promisin but never followed through, them Pheromoans got the moxie & I'd bet they's just 7 (or 12) inches away from deliverin a satisfyin platter of pasty spew. Then outta nowhere comes a bunch what's called Please (not to be confused w/the polite, lisping boys've pop-psych legend) whose wriggle on this self released 10" is both rancid & snotty w/invasive thrusts that nose around yr business like some've the better Ron Johnson bands of yore (I'm thinkin the Shrubs or A Witness). Them bands (along w/the Membranes, Sperm Wails, Kilgore Trout, etc) created alot've distemper on Ol Blighty's shores in the late 80's & in fact they may be the last pertinent generation to make such a claim. I knows it don't sound as hot as callin'em the next Danny & The Dressmakers but likes I always say; what the hell do you know? Line up your go-carts here; http://www.ouse.org.uk/ or; mkasparis@yahoo.com

Excuse me for sayin so, but when I first got a gander've the goobs what make up Dead At 24 I thought I was lookin at a Speaking Canaries tribute band! And seein as how they's both (at one time) Pittsburgh related, it didn't seem like a stretch. But nerd glasses 'n pencil necks aside, that's where them comparisons end. Dead At 24 wears a rustbelt heart proudly on their collective sleeve; the name is a reference to Pete Laughner & his age of death + much've the musical vibe herein is pumped w/a pulsing heart of darkness. Lot's of the lyrics sort've remind me of one've the Klimek's too, I just ain't figured out which. From what I can glean (accordin to the 8 page booklet enclosed), this 'Blast Off Motherfucker!' lp was originally a cassette released in '96. I would've reckoned sooner as such a big gob've the b-side sounds painstakingly cut & pasted off've Dead C's DR 503 lp. But hey, even then there weren't a whole lot've Dead C worship, so I ain't gonna ride'em too hard for it. At least they wasn't sittin around aping Spacemen 3 (ding!). My fave track on here is 'Breakin My Heart Again' where's they crackle like a Culturcide bonfire surroundin a Christchurch garage what's been transported to the Flats've of Cleveland. The rest.....let me say that for the most part I'm charmed by their nascent hubris & determination. Plus I think it's great someone gave the green-light to this as a worthy vinyl artifact ( much like that Lames one sided deal released last decade) even if it's 10+ yrs after the fact. I'm guessin their Theiner connection's was slim at best, but hey, PGH is only big enough for one dweeb at a time to parade around in a Ramleh t-shirt, so whatya gonna do? 300 pressed, check; http://www.ridethesnakerecords.com/

If Nestor's Carbuncles Could Talk.....The Induced Musical Spasticity of BUMFS LP Boxset

2009-06-29T17:07:00.000-07:00

With the notable exception of 2 entries penned by tea-steepers, I have seen nary a smidgeon've ink spilt on behalf of this outstanding tub've left field hash slung by a here-to-for unknown assortment've egg pounders what called themselves the Butte County Free Music Society. But I ain't surprised by the crickets. After all, what widdle bwoggers out there in internetland today would have a 1st hand inkling as to Bananafish Magazine, which in true Bizarro World style is the reverse genesis for it's existence? And even if they had clue, the dissemination is fairly dense. The participants in this art/noise/theater/kitchen sink production is about as tight lipped 'n secretive as a posse've Masons bidding in a goat auction. But I's always liked a challenge (as well as knowin my ass from elbow) which is why I suspect I was eventually ushered into the B-Fish fold by a certain I. Vern Beezer for the last few issues've that illustrious magazine's run. But it weren't like I got the secret handshake or keys to the temple. No, all's I got was piles of shitty cd's & cdr's to rail about! But it was invigorating nonetheless. Pffft, will you look at me? In full digression, my apologies to you all. Why don't we get off here & see how many ways we can skin this cat.......
Let's take a trip to Chico, Ca.Home to a state university, I'd wager it's undoubtedly the core reason this group've fiddlestickers was able ferret each other's out; they was there to be learned.If you's go to your olde tyme record collection it ain't likely you'd pull out much vinyl from Chico in this era (circa 83-84). Obviously there was plenty goin on, but unlike their erstwhile sympatico's to the south (LAFMS), this group seen fit to keep their hijinx on the down-low. Sure, Babs Manning would get the 28th Day goin, but outside've that, what'm I missin? I did spent a bit've time there around that period (as a laborer in orchards & whatnot) & I can tell you that it was mostly a town filled w/cowboy types, stoners, frat dorks & simliar dunderheads. So it's nice to know that buried within the confines of the ubiqitous pecan & fruit tree groves was a small but thrivin bastion of lasciviously insatiable insanity what seems a cross've (free deformed) Harrad Experiment meets (Cali version) Yoknapatawpha County.I remember an ad once what read 'LAFs do occur at laf-ms', so I imagine a fair amount've the same kind've pone bein baked here; BUFs buf-msing (say whaaaaaaat?-Capt'n S/Breeze) for the sake've snoots & snorts. And sure enough it's all splayed out here for them ears've yrs to have a gander, 4 lp's, a cd + a mess've full color inserts (poster too!) what to assemble the pieces & participants. To me it's a testament to the beauty of margins & more so, the marginality of the avant garde, underground or whatever you wanna label it. I don't think the BUMFS thought it out like the LAFMS, or rather, weren't as whole hog artistically driven for posterity. I ain't criticizin, hell, no one gave much of a shit about LA Free Music releases in the mid 80's so it ain't like BUMFS was gonna use that business acumen as a template for spreadin their withering infestation. For yrs this was all documented & passed around on cassettes, maybe a dozen or so people worldwide havin any knowledge or interest in it's contents. Which makes sense, given the time frame. I mean, it's pretty of-the-moment, sometimes it works & sometimes it.....works harder.Personally, I wish I knowed more about Hypnagogic Jerk. Them two toxic hummingbirds could sputter 'n pollinate the stamen's of my brainfield all day long! And that's just a tip of this collection. There's lot's on here to decipher & I think that whoever decided put up the coin to see it compiled & released was doin the Lord's work. I suppose if I had to make a comparison to something on the LAFMS discography-to keep the pikers happy & maybe even move a unit of this're two-I'd have to say it saddles right up there w/the Lightbulb Emergency 2xcassette sampler what come out towards the end've that collective's imprint. Them two tapes was my only companions for 3 cross country trips back in the day & I wouldn't have had it any other way. Left a lot've casualties in it's wake too. I expect the same from this box've records & cd as I prepare for a river ride which is to commence on Thursday. My rock barge (named the USS Miss Monroe) is all loaded up & what's waitin for me at a private dock I has in Martins Ferry, Oh. If any of you's live on the banks from there on down to New Orleans & by chance hear a weird or befuddlin storm comin outta the night, well.....that'd just be the likes of Bren't Lewiis, Walking Jock, Conduits & an a cadre've others croonin off my hi-fi, tryin to charm you into the muddy arms of the undertow. And don't worry about leavin behind no dryin off towel. There'll be no comin outta the water this time.
The Induced Musical Spasticity of BUMFS......25 years of the dip that keeps on dipping, finally & forever. Distro on this dude is scant, try; weirdo@weirdorecords.com or phreexch@comcast.net

Because I Could Not Stop For Death, He Kindly Stopped For Me.....Reviews X 5!

2009-06-25T12:39:00.000-07:00

The latest outfit to pony up & stir-fry outta the lo-fi wok is from Davis, Ca & calls themselves Green Green. Predictably there's nothing remarkable about it, unless you's think RTFO Bandwagon deserve a Northern California Appreciation Chapter. If that's the case, do you's also think that your parents was two dogs who fucked each other in the ass & a puppy popped out? Well....do you? Comes w/a little band pin I'll never sport, but ain't lost. Yet.
300 of these, collectors go to; www.myspace.com/ggreenz

Around 10 yrs ago or so, the whole New Weird America was in full throttle, perhaps the last generation of mongrels to possess an inkling of 1st degree knowledge of punk, improv & prog before they's was all ground up together in the grinder. Interestingly, it was said dunces what spun the crank, thereby creatin a bleak musical smorgasbord of amateurism in the form of little cdr patties as well as elaborately constructed cassettes molds & other vacuous whatnot. But enough of that diatribe, my point is how's now there's some've them Kabobs what's reinvented themselves from the New Weird to somethin more akin to the Old Weird, thereby makin'em New Old Weird American Americans. D. Charles Speer & The Helix is part've of this sect, if not it's leading voice what w/a couple lp's & now this 7" under their collective belts. And as such, they warmly embrace the music/stylings of the original denizens 'n patrons w/rich & harmonious flair. On this little fella Mr. Speer & Co. unwind w/some rural rock ala post Band frolic that on one side ('In Madagascar') tugs on the beard've Levon Helm & on the flip ('Bar-Abbas Blues') pats the fanny've Robbie Robertson. I used to have a shirt what said, 'Big Pink Was Not A Myth' & here you's got more proof for the pudding. Purchase this at; http://www.fusetronsound.com/

Dan Melchior has been much in demand this yr & like any solid mercenary, he delivers w/force & thunder. Without a doubt one of my favorite tracks've to date is his (apropos) menacing ode 'Post Office Line', haha, just the organ refain itself has enough lethal rounds in it to take out an entire station. This latest offering via Dull Knife is no slouch neither, 'Terrible Shame' bein absorbed in similiarly resigned, post psychedelic/hangover clarity as any've the outstanding tracks what can be found on the last V-3/Jim Shepard releases (atwixt 'Pimping In The 90's & 'Motorcycle Movie'). 'Ghost Of A Flea, Pt. 2' doesn't knock on the door so much as kicks it down & while it might jog my memory as a modern day companion to Flipper's 'Old Lady' dirge, unlike Shatter & co.-who liked to bully from a safe distance-Dan make it abundantly clear he's in the house to rob the men & fuck the women. Or is it the other way around? Either way I'm given the guy a wide berth! Another one what's 300, find out more from; http://www.dullkniferecords.com/

Mr Pumice is a fella what's something of a pleasant enigma. By that I mean in the post X/pressway, post Gate breeding kennels've New Zealand noise rock pups, Mr. P seems to be the only one what's no longer exclusively bein weened on the lathe cut teets of the perpetually nursing Geraldine bitch. He's actually gettin pressed up on regular vinyl! How many to date I cannot say, but this new split w/Grouper has just arrived & his entry ('Twin Neck Double Kick Bum Chin') is classic; a detached sci fi sea shanty, enveloped in fog, rockin against the winter waves & peppered by a sharp,salty, sea air. What was once South Island vices is now become North Island habits, but Pumice is by no means a counterfeit of those what was brewin up afore, ney, his grok is more a distended homogenization of all what's been chuffy & left of the dial from the Andband down & counting. Grouper also deliver w/a haunting number lost in the mist. Stunningly elegiac, it's hard to know if she's waving or drowning.If I's ever get to hear them Mary Briefcase records I only hope they deliver a fraction of the same beauty. http://www.softabuse.com/

Bill Orcutt might be the closest thing we's got to a underground rock version of Tommy Pynchon. Ain't no one's seen him in an age, a statistic (or whatever) he likes just fine. And of course there's the stories; how he moved to the Ukraine & started a school what teaches bears to play hockey. Or the one about him livin in the Congo & bein an arms dealer. And I don't mean weapons neither, I mean real life arms! Who'd buy such a thing? I reckon there's nothin wrong w/keepin your audience mystified, no matter how bizarre or gruesome the conjurin. And every now & again he takes time off doin Lord knows what to release a record, the task of findin a copy bein no small feat neither. The one what come around for a minute a few yrs back was as ambiguous as his day to day & while I found it confoundingly charmin then, I can't claim that it has left much of an imprint now. But I doubt I'll be sayin that about this new one what's called 'High Waisted/Big Ass Nails'. You might think upon 1st listen that Bill's slingin w/one of them dagger's he wielded so perilously in Harry Pussy, but stick your neck out a little further & you'sll realize he's forged a whole new scimitar which has done cut off your head. At that moment of impact them ears'll ring w/a hum've cacaphonous fuzz, then a mass've guitar rush w/the gust've Antennae Jimmy Semens + fury've of Saharan string mangler Doueh will flood over your nimble brain. And suddenly, almost as abruptly as it began, it is over. Except now friend..... you will eat no more hotdogs. The chopping block only has room for 100, line up here; http://www.fusetronsound.com/ & http://www.mimaroglumusicsales.com/

That's Life? How The Hell Should I Know Baby!.....At Long Last, New Reviews!

2009-06-22T13:01:00.000-07:00

It's been a while & let me tell you's, I can't recall a time when the old maxim, 'better late than never' EVER had a more literal (& profound) resonance. See, I done went & got burnt out on all this underground rock nonsense. It all's got to soundin more or less the same. I wish I could say for the good, but to be honest, it was more for the worst. Writin (or criticizin) on a blog weren't gonna change anything, but that's hardly a news flash. I reckon I just figured my time & efforts would be better served doin another kind've work. An old Saigon buddy of mine, a Swiss fella by the name of Aldo Gygax told me about some opportunities w/him up to Chomolungma (or Mount Everest as it's known to westerners) & if that ain't gettin away from it all, I don't know what is! So off I went. Aldo got me set up in Jiri (my sincere thanks to my host's there, Dawa & Chopel) & once I got to the hang of things, I made the trek over to Lukla to begin my apprenticeship. Once that was learnt I was assigned to South Base Camp, ostensibly to work w/the Sherpa's settin to fixed ropes & whatnot for climbers to begin their ascent's to destiny. But I reckon Aldo had other ideas for me. Next thing I knowed, I was put in change of makeshift 'Tea House' & cookin food for the various trekkers what was passin through. It weren't what I was expectin (or hoped for), but you either learn how to hit the curveball or you go down swingin. And no one love's a curveball more than ol' Roland Woodbe. The Gygax plan was "Grande western gastro grub far east of the Pecos', an idea which made no sense given our scenario. But Aldo had went & done a thesis on James Cloyd Bowman after 'Nam so he was all the time goin on about Pecos Bill & Slue-Foot Sue, so it was thematic if nothing else (what's up w/the Swiss & old west folklore?). I figured it was also a by-product of his "crops"-this food servin bein a "front" if you will- what he growed in Katmandu, but that weren't a topic we's talked about, if you catch my drift. Whatever the basis, it turned out to be a most lucrative proposition. You ask anyone what's ate at the Lasso Lounge (nothin more than some canvas, wood & tin but it's design woulda given Frank Gehry a boner) up the Southeast Ridge just this side've the Western Cwm & I bet you's they's will talk a blue streak about the Bronco burgers (ground yak meat) seared in gee (not to mention the Tornader Tots, Tibetan tubers bein about the best on this planet!). I had this one Sherpa guy by the name of Katu what was just about the fastest line cook I's ever seen. He really did get the hang of things pdq. The bread up there ain't much to speak of (it's fried rather than baked), so we didn't have a sandwich as you'd get 'round these parts. But you put a fried egg on one of them dudes & you could just about write yourself a ticket to anywhere in this universe! Talk about a hit, hell, them French & Japanese (especially) would be mountaineers just about shit themselves when they got a taste of what we's turned out. Not that I was countin, but I reckon the Lasso was probably most liable for more climbers comin up, piggin out, then gettin off than any from frostbite or lack of oxygen. Shit, I'd like to think we was savin lives in a few instances! You should see some of these goobs what think's they's is gonna be the next Edmund Hillary. I've seen more qualified lookin pindicks on the Epic Theatre Blog. All's I can say about it is this; if a burger & fries (at 17,000+ ft) is enough to entice a peckerwood outta climin the world's highest mountain (this is w/the 25K done spent on a permit too), well.....can I cook or can I cook?
But that life got tiresome, so dull in fact that when I got a cdr from Mr. Siltbreeze w/tracks've some of the new stuff that had been floodin in for my perusal, it got my radar piqued. I'd seen my share of frozen toes & blackened noses.And the level of entitlement these hikers permeate, even the most wizened servers & bartenders would howl w/derision (sauce on the side is the least of it up there, pal). I said goodbye to my staff (I esp. miss Mida, what a pistol she was!), hiked back down to Lukla for the rest of my belongings & began my epic journey back to the Fishtown of Philadelphia. And here I am, behind this keyboard one more time. It's funny what you miss, especially what don't come to the forefront of your mind. And I don't mean that new Psychedelic Horseshit 12"either, though it is sweet. I just ate me a pint of fresh picked strawberries & all the overpriced/hyped Mexican Summer records out there COMBINED couldn't compare to something as simple & delicious. What with this music & food comparison's, I think I'm finally startin to acclimate myself back into the tenure of Siltblog. Am I stoked? Probably not as much as you are Hoss, but then I'd be lyin if I said I don't appreciate bein appreciated. So w/that in mind, let's see if I can sniff some truffles outta this mess.

I did enjoy the Mantles debut 7" ep what was released a yr or so back, a demure yet solid grower spiked w/pop-psych moves that seemed germinated as much from early Chills as it did Kendra era Dream Syndicate. This new one on the Mt. St. Mtn. label keeps that notion locked 'n loaded, however on these 2 fantastic cuts there's a breezy 'n original confidence that is undeniable, which is to say these guys (& gal) are as much a contemporary distillation of the sassiest moments found on the Velvet's 3rd lp as them aformentioned influences was in their nascent endeavors. At the risk of soundin maudlin, there ain't many little records comin out these days I care to give more than a cursory listen to, but this one I keep playin over & over. To my ears it's about as close to perfect as you can get. 300 was pressed, check it out via mtstmtn@hotmail.com & dig the band at www.myspace.com/mantles

Another burst of 45 rpm brilliance is this mindblowgly great 1 sided gem (via Columbus Discout Records) from the lost archives of Jim Shepard entitled 'The Voices Of Men'. With assistance from Roxanne Newman & Nudge Squidfish I'm thinkin this might've been a V-3 outtake cut around the same time as them tracks on the 'Earth Muffin' ep. It's got Jim's tenorous gallows wit 'n lyrics splached onto some highly diggable Eno-esque musical twitter, imagine a pre-apocalyptic interpretation of 'The Third Wheel' & just in case you ain't sold, there's some Rev. Jim Jones heralding tacked onto the end for further dark,comic effect. Jeez....I tell ya, there ain't a day goes by I don't miss that fucker. But I ain't gonna eulogize, hat's off to the CDR crew for findin this beaut & pressin it up. What's more, it's free. Shepard would've loved that! (NOTE-This record is no longer available).

Matt Korvette ain't afraid to chort about his enthusiasm for the contempo dark/cold/goth/techno aktion what's ragin across Europe. In fact, he's put his money where his mouth is & released 'Right Thant', a willfully under-the-radar 7" of electro/industrial-ized wave that would seem to be an estimable calling card into the plethora of club thumping genre benders.And as the groups therein seem fueled by limited edition releases (& 7"ers in particular) then Herr Korvette's entry fit's like 3 shots've Jager into a highly combustible shaker've German Leg Spreader. For some reason I feel encouraged to mention Haus Arafna & their doppeganger November Novelet, but then I'm liable to get light-headed alot sooner now than in the day's of yore. Maybe yr pipe is filled w/stronger smoke. I was told this was ONLY available for the asking (ie, no distro), so if curious, you could do worse than chime up here; whitedenim@gmail.com

Comin outta nowhere is this shimmering nova of blissful folk-psych from the leading voice of the Newe Detroite (?), Aran Ruth. I gotta admit, she cut me off at the knees, what I know about her (& this Newe scene) wouldn't fill the paper on a hit've blotter, but wow, I sure am willing to change all that right here 'n now! Ruth ably summons a voice & ethereal aura not unlike Linda Perhacs & while it may not play as vocally zonked as the tastier cuts on 'Parallelograms', the 3 tracks on this 7" ep are still pretty tranfixing stuff. Even a tune as seemingly 'straight up' as 'Cast Your Ship Upon Rain' is so coddlingly lysergic it feels like 4am no matter what time've day it's played. And the flip delivers the goods as well, this time dressed in wisps, hums & echoes of practically kosmische design. Comes in a lovingly handmade jacket, penned w/all the baffling geometric artful whatsis once attributed to the El Saturn style. What a treat. Try www.myspace.com/aranruthsmusicpage for more info.

Someone told me I'd like this Pheromoans record on account of how much they's resembled The Fall. Seein as how this person was someone what knowed me, I assumed they meant that once great band durin their formative yrs on Step Forward. But whatever, I don't hear it, nor did it strike me that these guys shared anything w/The Fall outside of a shambling nature. The one track, 'The Man Who Wolf Whistled' has a kind've NWRA drum patter but I couldn't follow the gist of the muttered narration-which resembled a halfhearted Shadow Ring at best-so I zoned out & dreamt instead of cold kidney pie & warm imperial ale. The flipside started out nicely, 'Revamper' bein a splendid discharge of DIY gurp ala Different I's, you know, goin nowhere fast & lovin every step. 'Penis Envy 96' breaks off from there but only runs headlong into a thicket of Country Teasers like bramble. I dunno, can't says it's neither to condemn nor condone. They's certainly got the right foundation to be a contender & Matt Z from Tyvek says they's a good band live. And who am I to argue w/the inventor of Ass Rocks? Stateside find this at; http://www.s-srecords.com/ & for further info; www.myspace.com/pheromoans

Tyvek VIVA Radio Interview! Live in Phila, 5/30/09, But Where?

2009-05-23T12:07:00.001-07:00

Viva Radio's Ted Shumaker has graciously sent over an interview he did recently w/Tyvek's Kevin Boyer & Matt Z. Running just baout 12 minutes, Ted get's the fella's to open up about what makes the band tick, the idea behind the cover art &...........listen for yourself;

https://rcpt.yousendit.com/691452310/a0aa6dd1ea0264c1fd688aeb70b5c004

The band is scheduled to play Phila next Saturday, May 30th, but I keep getting info on conflicting venue's. Originally booked at some place called PIFA (whatever the fuck that is), reliable sources now claim it's been moved to PiLam (3914 Spruce St.), though their Myspace makes no mention; www.myspace.com/thepilam
So who knows? Once it's sorted out, I'll post again. In the meantime, enjoy the VIVA interview.

Fuck National Record Store Day & All It's Friends.....New Tyvek & Eat Skull LP's Finally Available!

2009-05-09T09:34:00.000-07:00

After much delay, the lp's for Tyvek & Eat Skull's 'Wild & Inside' are now available, priced as follows;

15$ ppd US
20$ ppd Canada
25$ ppd Elsewhere

Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

Next up; Blues Control-'Local Flavor' lp/cd, ready sometime early summer.

Eat Skull's 'Wild & Inside' + New Tyvek s/t cd's Part Of Blowout Sale! Buy Now!

2009-04-21T09:53:00.000-07:00

I know I know, your all waiting for the vinyl. Hopefully both will be here soon, but in the meantime I have some copies of each of these on cd I'm willing to sell on the cheap. Like 10$ each here in USA (13$ elsewhere). These are stock copies, no hole punch, no cut corner promo crap, the real retail deal, sealed & everything. I have about 20 of each, 1st come, 1st serve. Interested parties can paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

Destination-ROCK! Siltbreeze At SXSW 2009. And We Have Posters! Get'em Now!

2009-03-16T16:01:00.000-07:00

Siltbreeze is hosting a 2nd Annual SXSW Showcase at SoHo Lounge, 217 East 6th St., Thurs. 3/19. Festivities kick off around 8:00 pm, running order is as follows;

8pm-Ratas Del Vaticano
8:45-Eat Skull
9:30-Hank IV
10:15-Psychedelic Horseshit
11:00 Naked On The Vague
11:45-U.S. Girls
12:30-Los Llamarada
1:15-FNU Ronnies

And to commemorate the event, we've printed up a limited edition poster, edition of 35, silkscreened in the American colors of red, white & blue & printed by local artist Mark Price (http://www.markpriceisafactory.com/) & measure 18"x24". Paper is a nice heavy grade w/a thick ink coating. These are really sweet & easy on the eyes. Prices are as follows;

US-12$ppd$
Canada-14$ppd
Elsewhere-20$ppd

These will be mailed in appropriate poster cylinders & in US, we'll send delivery confirmation. Trying to make the price as cheap as possible, passing the saving's along to you, the fans. So order now, surely not to be along for long. Hope to see some of you there & if not, maybe next year.

Axemen's 'Big Cheap Motel' LP Ready For Order!

2009-02-18T09:30:00.000-08:00

So the 1st of the Axemen reissue lp series is now available. 'Big Cheap Motel' was originally released as a cassette in 1983 & documents the band's assault on a free concert sponsored by the Big M milk congolmerate. On here one finds the Axemen to be the living embodiment of early 'don't man hate, man educate' Riot Grrrl doctrine, caterwauling a set of on-the-spot original protests (+ a Rolling Stones cover) aimed at local city council & Big M's salacious advertising that falls somewhere between ATV's 'What You See Is What You Are' & Half Japanese live in DuPont Circle (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UTuA_FGKzWk). Would Alan Alda approve? Hard to say, but hopefully it's a formidable enough aural action to keep Germaine Greer's piehole shut. It's no Crass, but then, what is?
This lp is an edition of 700. All copies include an insert & most come w/stickers suitable for bodily application. Step right up & order.

15$ ppd US
17$ ppd Canada
25$ ppd elsewhere

Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

Not Exactly A Singles Club, Then Again.....Beyond The Implode's 'This Atmosphere' 7" ep GONE

2009-02-04T11:48:00.000-08:00

OUT OF PRINT
Incredulous as it may seem, Siltbreeze is proud to announce the release of a super limited 7" ep from the legendary Beyond The Implode; 4 tracks recorded (at home) by the band in 1979. Tracks 1 & 3 ('This Atmosphere' & 'Steel Car') were originally issued on the band's 1979 debut ep 'Last Thoughts' while tracks 2 & 4 ('Disperse The Clouds' + 'Mid Ad Version') have remained unheard & unreleased lo these many years. Astute fans will no doubt hear 'Mid Ad Version' & perhaps "see" it as an alternate take on 'Midnight Adventures' (found on Last Thoughts) & if so, count yourselves among the lucky ones. This project was sanctioned by BTI head honcho Eddie Smith who also provided the master tape & as such making this 100% legit, i.e., NOT A BOOTLEG. Released in a one time edition of 300 copies, this ep is solely available from this site; no distro's, mail-order or blackmail. Not yet anyway. Once it's gone, it's gone.

Look Hard, This Might Hurt....Catching Up With The Awesome Vistas Label

2009-01-29T11:07:00.000-08:00

No doubt some of you's out there is familiar w/Chris Johanson the artist. From what I was told by a man wearing a beret & sipping pernod, he comes for the disembodied school of Raymond Pettibon. Sorry Shirley, I've had to work most of my life, so excuse me if I weren't there the day they passed out snuff & showed you how to prance around w/a stick up your ass. All's I know from what I've seen of his work it there ain't no Gumby's or Manson's & that's fine by me. Then there's the Chris Johanson what's the mastermind behind perhaps the single most exciting vanity label goin (sorry Corwood), Awesome Vistas, whose 1st release was Sic Alps 'Description Of The Harbor' 12" (the artwork c/o Mr. J himself). Since then a spate of new one's has hit the street, all in small editions, each lovingly assembled. The jackets are silkscreened by different artist's or band members, the paper stock bein a heavy gauge what's near cardboard that's perfect for the sometimes elaborate screens what is laid down. To date I think there's seven releases & it's anyone's guess if more's to come. As it states on one of the inserts, "there is no way to contact Awesome Vistas". You might say they's along the lines of them Morant Tapes series of 10" lathe cuts from a couple yrs back except this is high grade 12" vinyl dudes. I ain't had a problem w/none of'em, actually I've enjoyed them all & considerin what a mixed bag they was, that's sayin somethin. But seein as how I've only been back to North America & home but a week now, I need to get my sleep patterns up to EST. So I've asked a couple Irish buddies of mine, Gerald Fitzpatrick & Patrick Fitzgerald to guest "curate" this column. Personally, I think the point/counterpoint buddy thing is insipid & lazy, so if this at anytime starts to read like the C&D column outta Arthur, you'll know where this idea come from. There ain't no reason for these 2 to be pseudonymous though. If you gotta problem with what they think, just stop on by to get your ass whupped, that's fine.

Enablers-The Achievement (1 sided lp, AV-01)

GF; (shaking a Belfast Bomber) Whatya know about Enablers?

PF; (lighting a cigarette & bats out the match) Well, they say me grandmother was responsible for me uncle Brian bein a nasty cur & me grandfather's hopeless alcoholism.

GF; (agitated) Not them ya twit, the band!

PF; (gently pouring a can of Guinness into a pint glass) ah, this record we're a hearin now. I like the voice, it's quite Welsh soundin (laughs).

GF; Ya, it's some voice, a fella by the name'a Peter Simonelli.

PF; Right, one'a them.

GF; (curious) One'a who?

PF; An I'tal.

GF; (rolling his eyes), Jesusmaryandjoseph, what's his heritage got to do w/all the tea in China?

PF; Dunno, just sayin's all.

GF; Well, it's a story put to music. Very San Francisco, ya can almost smell the Mission.

PF; (squinting, confused) Smell the missus?

GF; (yelling) THE MISSION! You know, the Mission district. The music takes me there too, very Toiling Midgets in a way.

PF; (pouring a Jameson) Ya, I hear it, very Saccharine Trust as well.

GF; (himself pouring a Jameson) Your right! Good on ya (they clink glasses in a toast).

PF: (browsing the insert) There's a paragraph here where he's on about a tranny goin mental. Do ya recall the time we was lost in San Fran & ended up in the poofter bar?

GF; (exhaling a cigarette) I do.

PF; And the poor bugger who was buyin ya drinks & asked to give ya a blowjob? And ya dropped him with a punch?

GF; (inhales the cigarette again, looks away & exhales); Ya, twas a tough call. No way for him to know I didn't need the work!

(GF & PF crack up)

http://www.myspace.com/enablers

Linda Hagood-Pink Love Red Love (Av-06)

PF; (snorting a line of cocaine off this lp jacket, then picking it up for closer inspection) Christ, this is a cover, innit?

GF; (head titled back & holding his nose) Ya, it's quite good. I thought ya said you know this woman, didn't ya say twas a bartender?

PF; (confused) Fucked her?

GF; (squinting at PF) What?

PF; Aye?

GF; (voice rising, eyes darting) The singer, here the artist in question, Linda Hagood! You'd drink at her bar, yes?

PF; (swirling an iced glass of Bailey's) Ya, indeed, the Confederate bartender. Lovely girl. Didn't know she made music.

GF; (smoking a cigarette, looking at insert, sweating) Ya, she pretty much does it all on this one.It's quite good, funny as well, reminds me a bit of something you might get from Yoshimi. "Trippy" ya might say.

PF; (teasingly) Ah so......

GF; (staring directly at PF) I suppose now you speak Japanese do ya?

PF; (gesturing w/left hand) Vely rittle (laughs)

GF; (laughing) That's ridiculous. You reckon we could say this was a psychedelic record?

PF; (exhaling cigarette) I do.

GF; (teasingly) But you also think that mushroom's on a cut of beefsteak is psychedelic as well, ya?

PF; (tilts head forward, blows smoke directly into face of GF) I think your mother thinks so, that's what I think.

GF; (incensed, stands up) My MOTHER? Let me tell ya somethin about my mother (charges PF, fistfight ensues).

http://www.myspace.com/lindahagood

Dragging An Ox Through Water-The Tropics Of Phenomenon (Av-07)

GF; (uncorking a magnum of malt duck) Aye, this isn't bad, a one man affair is it?

PF; (holding plastic champagne flute, looking at insert) I thought ya meant the bubbly (laughs). I reckon it is, hard to read this blasted fine print. Ya, here it says 'all instruments, etc, by Brian'.

GF; (pours & fills 2 flutes, they clink glasses) I'd say he owe's a bit to Mayo Thompson's 'Cory's Debt To His Father' lp.

PF; (lights cigarette, downs malt duck, pours a Jameson) Your onto something, I do declare. Sounds like he's a bit of an experimenter.

GF; (downs the cold duck) What, you reckon he's poof?

PF; (knocks back the whiskey) Proof? What proof?

GF; (smoking cigarette) I said HE"S POOF.

PF; (squints) Where's your proof?

GF (visibly frustrated) Christ, that's what ya said! Now I'm confused.

PF; Is that right? Last time I checked ya was Gerald Fitzpatrick. Confused is no name for an Irishman. Folks'll take ya for poof.

http://www.myspace.com/dragginganox

Thee Oh Sees-Peanut Butter Oven ep (AV-04)

PF; (mixing a gin & tonic sans ice) Aye, what's this your playin? Sounds freaky.

GF; (snorting a small pile of cocaine off the back of his fist) Umm, ah, Thee Oh Sees. Ya, it's quite good. It's a band w/this legendary SF bloke, John Dwyer.

PF; (takes a long pull on his drink followed by his cigarette, exhales) Right, Coachwhips fella. This is quite spastic, brilliant rhythm section, infectious to say the least.

GF; (pogoing in front of turntable, boths hands out & batting like flippers) Ya, they're hard not to like. And this Dwyer chap is daft, his mind seems to race constantly. And this guitar on 'Quadrospazzled', aye, it's like a cross between Ward Dotson & Karl Precoda. A long way from Pink & Brown. Ya remember Pink & Brown?

PF; (drains cocktail, pours Jameson, lights cigarette, bats out match) Pink & Brown? (squints) Your knickers ya mean?

GF (remains dancing, breathing heavily, head shoots sharply around to left, stares at PF, confused) Whot in the bloody hell are ya on about?

PF; (teasingly) Them knickers of yours. (exhales smoke) by the time your finished w/that spastic dancin they're to be pink & brown! (convulses in laughter)

GF (stops dancing, walks over to bar & picks up empty gin bottle. sneaks up behind PF who is still in laughing uncontrollably & whacks his in the head, knocking him to the ground) Is that right? Ya know I've a spastic colon & I asked ya to keep it to yerself, aye?

PF; (groggily) Aye, ya did. Pass us a fag, ya?

GF; (hands him a cigarette) Here ya'are. A whiskey then?

PF; (smiles) Ya, could do.

GF; (pours 2 whiskeys, they toast); To a fine record.

PF; Aye, a fine record indeed.

http://www.myspace.com/ohsees

Jackie-O Motherfucker-The Cryin' Sea (AV-03)

*Note; At this point both men are barely coherent. Faced w/imminent blackout, the lads resort to the last move left in their arsenal; quote verbatim from the pages of Finnegan's Wake.

GF; A spathe of calyptrous glume involucrumines the perinanthean Amenta.

PF; fungoalgaceous muscafilicial graminopalmular plan-teon; of increasing, livivorous, feelful thinkamalinks

GF; luxuriotia— ting everywhencewithersoever among skullhullows and charnel

PF; cysts of a weedwastewoldwevild when Ralph the Retriever ranges to jawrode his knuts knuckles and her theas thighs.

GF; one-gugulp down of the nauseous forere brarkfarsts oboboomaround and you’re as paint and spickspan as a rainbow

PF; wreathe the bowl to rid the bowel; no runcure, no rank heat, sir; amess in amullium; chlorid cup.

http://www.myspace.com/jonf

Hey thanks fellas! That was, uh, somethin.........

Awesome Vistas is distributed by Revolver USA, contact dave@midheaven.com

to find out all about'em. PLEASE-the Sic Alps & Thee Oh Sees is now OOP, so no need to bug him where they's concerned.

Many Has Called, Three Is Chosen.....Some More New Reviews

2009-01-28T12:59:00.000-08:00

The record's what's piled up here durin my absence, well, it's akin to one of them Matthew Brady photographs of the Union dead at Antietam Bridge. Like cordwood, so I'm tryin to hype (or huff) as fast as possible.

I like the alliteration of Heathern Haints even if I ain't gotta clue to what it means. Could be someone's name, you know, like Pink Floyd. But let's fry that fish another day. These guys is one of the new breed of 3rd eye guru's basking in the lysergic eddy's of Shoegaze but w/a pretty neat comprehension of early Rain Parade (think an extrapolation of that debut 7" on Llama), the psychic channeling of Spacemen 3 + hints of cognizant appreciation for the Cogle/Stapleton Christchurch shimmer. All them elevators stop at the thirteenth floor, a matter of fact not lost on the 4 track's that comprise this 12". Comes in a silkscreened double sided chipboard sleeve too. Goin up?
www.myspace.com/heathernhaints

A Homosexual is a Homosexual is Bruno Wizard. So sez I. And if any y'all have been apprehensive as to the worth of this seemingly outta nowhere 'Love Guns?' 10"re-emergence, I'm tellin you's to save that cuticle skin from chewin another day. If I'd had my druthers I would've figured this to be solo, like the Sir Alick & The Phraser 7", but once I shook the package, out jumbled an insert statin the opposite. Could be I'm biased, but I don't reckon Bruno's missed a beat. Peeps might pweep that the production ain't as crisp as yore, but I lost my taste for micro-brew salon talk some time ago, thank you very much. Unlike, say, Pere Ubu, whose post Rough Trade career has never cottoned to me, the "new" Homosexuals can drop near perfect baby's like this till there ain't no lavender left to spare. Second edition of 300 available now, but for how long? http://www.seriousbusinessrecords.com/

The X! label has steadily built a solid discography documentin the contempo Detroit scene & anyone worth their salt will tell you concentratin on one city for yr output is (usually) a fool's errand. But that buck stop's here. What's there, somethin like, 14 releases out? And not a runt in the litter? Hell, at that rate X! is headin towards the legendary status of US labels such as Dangerhouse or VVV for keepin it real w/the hometown feel. Naturally, some's outta print, but what's soon to come is this monster lp comp entitled 'Shiftless Decay' what's a stoned bone of Motorcity meltdown. And yeah, there's an early trio demo of Tyvek rippin up 'Flashing Lights', the post Chrome demolition of Human Eye + Little Claw dishin out another take on 'Feeding You Your New Head' (w/Kilynn showin up both Niagara & Rockee from Flirt in the process). Fillin out the rest of this stunner is Tentacle Lizardo (a personal fave), Frustrations, Terrible Twos, Heros & Villains, Johnny III Band, Mahonies, THTX & Odd Clouds (whose brand of LAFMS blorp is always spot on). For whatever reason, Hero's & Villains & Johnny III really made me wanna dig out some Cincecyde & that Brain Police 7". Say what you will about the excellent 'Detroit On A Platter' v/a from back in the day, 'Shiftless Decay' is gonna be THE one for the droolers from here on out. Chalk up another winner for the best label in the city that's more fun to visit than to live in. http://www.x-recs.com/

After What You've Just Said, I Don't Know What You Mean.....The Return Of A Man Called Roland Woodbe

2009-01-27T13:23:00.000-08:00

Hardy-har, I bet you's all thought I was gone for good. Truth be told, I weren't so sure myself if I'd be gracin the pages of blogland ever again neither. Right when I thought my service to God & Country had all but been depleted, that's when I got the call for some PSYOPS bullshit that proved to damn near be my physical undoin. What started out like routine debriefing's of some agitated CIA "muleskinners" down to Ecuador ended up gettin me ass deep in subterfuge & some ancient conspiracy threads what had my head spinnin & landed me in a jail cell for near 3 months time ( nabbed w/a sizeable portion of cocaine, planted of course). Ecuador has some harsh laws when it comes to this monkey powder but I came to learn that my incarceration was nothing more than a setup. A ruse if you will. Once inside I was to make nice to some folks that supposedly had heavy connections. So it was a case of the hunted becomin the hunter. And if I had time (& the proper clearance) I could tell you some stories what involve Nazi pastissier's, pearl divin off the coast of Venezuela, a secret Kennedy rum plantation, the self propelled human cannon, white rails inhaled off the hot latin ass of an (allegedly) ex Noboa mistress + nuclear secrets lyin at the bottom of the lost island of Elugelab. But them's for another day. Right now I'm more anxious than a 'lude queen on prom night to hump a few of these here records what's overflowin at casa Woodbe. Sorry to all you's out there what might've been lookin for a best of 08 from me. I just don't got the love this time round. Instead I'm gonna focus on some stellar releases what come out but seemed ignored, or stymied the dimmer rock-writer bulbs, doe-eyed in the kilowatt's. I'd say it's great to be back but I don't wanna presume any cognitive deficits just yet, if you know what I mean.

A couple've guppies I know seem perplexed by my pro stance on this Crazy Dreams Band lp what's on Holy Mountain. What's up their collective ass is that alls I do is bitch & complain about all the New Weird half-assed shit & hereI am now championing some of it's major domo's. If you say so. But are they? And am I? It is true, the affectation's, constant name-dropping & shameless bill-hogging (not to mention miles of just terrible releases) laid down in the annals of the day-to-day history of this aforementioned genre are deplorable. But it was a lost time for some, lot's of the underground rock had shifted into formlessness & the "improviser"/noise "artist" was top dog. My accusers has even taken to callin me a hypocrite as I work for Siltbreeze, sayin the label was responsible for the glut of crap spewed out en masse on account of introducin the world to Charalambides, Tower Recordings & UN. All's I can to that is blamin us for somethin like, say, Sunburned or Vetiver, is like blamin Nietzsche for Hitler. Go ahead, get riled up! I'm just makin a point. Now w/this Crazy Dreams Band, I'm told they's full of NWA high security types but I don't care. They manage to keep things percolatin w/enough genuine osmosis that I'm just about this far ( it's close, why, there's hardly any gap at all!-Capt'n Siltbreeze) from buyin completely into their neo-psychedelic glublub. The real highlight is Lexie Mountain. Beardo's & Arthur devotees might see this performance & gloat about the 2nd coming of Pomerance, but last I checked, this weren't a comedy record (ding!). I reckon she conjures up all sorta diva's, from Sumac to Joplin to Linda Sharrock & it's cool to see her takin a crack at the rock format. Actually the vocalist she most reminds me of on here is Ricky Williams & if this lp is the second comin of anything it might as well be 'Sea Of Unrest'. And a track like "Seperate Ways" is filled w/enough blind faith, it's enough to charm me outta my shirt'n flaunt the ol' chestnut's (hairs'n all) alfresco for.....as long as it takes. So be afraid, be very afraid. This fucker can be bought direct too, go to http://www.holymountain.com/
for the fix.

Another record what's along the same lines is this little fella by Terminal Wasteband, a two song 7" for the estimable Black Velvet Fuckere label. Last I heard from these gouchos they was lightin up the sonic skies w/a brand of fuzz they called 'Barn Rock'. But a move northwest & so many Trappist ales later, maybe it's safe to say the barn has given way to a shed. But density is relative & on here the trio don't lunge into the whoosh of Hawkwind & Mountain as before, yet they ain't missed a beat neither. These tracks seem more set the controls for the heart of the rural-delica sun, following the not so easily understood maps of neo-cartographers such as Thinking Fellers & Strapping Fieldhands. The moral of this offering might be 'revenge is dish best served cold' & if you miss Blackjack mailorder as much as I do, they you know what I mean. Distro on this dude seems scant, try www.myspace.com/theterminalwasteband

When I opened the package for Boron And The Grebes 'Your're A Horrible Person' 7" ep, Mr. Boron felt compelled to include a note so'd I knew what a grebe is. Mr Boron, PLEASE! This is Roland Woodbe your speakin to. I have done ate more grebe's than you'll ever know. My mother used to make a version of the Turducken w/ grebe, possum & chipmunk. Um-um, that was some good eatin! Mr. Boron went on to explain he made this record to attract bandmates & I wish him the best've luck. It's a very decidedy lo-fi affair & kinda reminds me of a cross between Amor Fati & Slicing Grandpa. Maybe you don't "need" it or maybe you do. Surely ain't many of'em made, go to elementalboron@yahoo.com & see what's what.

The 7" debut of the (new) Cro Magnon seems to have put the pout in the lip of grumpier gus' out there. And to that end I will say I could be confounded why anyone other than the band themselves would see the point of gettin this thing on vinyl but perhaps that's the rub; it all comes back to one's taste's. I'm bettin that if you played these tracks back to back w/the ones by old Cromagnon there's be as many what says it all sucks as would stand & applaud. 20 yrs ago when Happy Flowers (& later) Lisa Suckdog unleashed their feral frenzy they was lauded as 'genius'. Could be as they was self released & came outta nowhere, we was all so taken by the outrageousness, it was easier to fawn that to fart. But they was in on the joke or rather, drew a line to see who'd stick around & see how it played out. And maybe the same could be said about the new Cro Magnon's. As for Bruit Direct buyin a cat in a bag by puttin this out, I don't think so. What's a good horror movie w/o some screamin girls? Bruit Direct is now 3 releases into a narrative of rich, post-sanity, aural grindhouse zonk, now w/2 shrilling, barely legal heroines
to advance the hysterical depravity. No one's askin you to kiss'em, but don't turn your back on'em neither, okay? http://www.bruit-direct.org/

I know this Pop Horror 7" has been out for an age, but I's just now gettin to it. Kinda suprised that my Anglo obsessed buds weren't more smitten with this. It's got a great lost in time chug (a little bass heavy on the 1st track maybe), plus a cool contempo DIY skip in it's step that reminds me of Dry Rib & Desperate Bicycles. The 2008 answer to Hand Grenades (honkin bass & all)? I wouldn't say no! www.myspace.com/iwannabearichbitch

Last Two Releases For 2008 Are Here! Get'em While They's Hot!

2008-12-13T10:09:00.000-08:00

Here we are with the last 2 releases for 2008, a self titled one from The Love Is So Fast & 'Games For Slaves', the 2nd lp by Der Teenage Panzerkorps. TLISF is comprised of members of Los Llamarada, notably Danyhell & Estrella while also being produced by Sagan Youth. Silly me, I had always assumed these tracks were pre Los Llamarada but in fact TLISF was actually a band that existed for a short period when LL broke up (pre Exploding Now). That said, it still sounds like surreal, prehensile psychedelia, the palate filled w/flourishes of nascent staccato & outer space VU fumble. Edition of 500.
Der TPK had promised/theatened their followup effort would be more in the post-punk vein & they weren't kidding. 'Games For Slaves' really is almost like a step back in time, circa '79-80. Imagine a sound forged from the sneering ore of Abwarts & smelting ennui via early Joy Division. All's I know is that if guitarist Edmund Xavier's spidery guitar runs don't ably channel a young Bernard Sumner, then your name isn't John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt (that's mine name too!). Silkscreened covers this time, edition of 500.

Prices are as follows
each lp US-15$ ppd, Canada, 17$, Elsewhere, 25$

Paypal via; sltrx@pil.net

And also a BIG THANKS to everyone out there who helped make 2008 a banner year for Siltbreeze. Hope to see y'all again in '09!

'Sweat It Out' For Christmas.....Axemen's Little Stevie McCabe's Legendary Solo LP Available For Limited Time!

2008-12-08T10:11:00.001-08:00

SORRY, SOLD OUT

In anticipation of the forthcoming Axemen series that begins next year, I was able to procure the last copies of Axeman Little Stevie McCabe's solo lp 'Sweat It Out'. Released in an edition of 300 in 1986, this DIY/Outsider masterpiece has long been under the radar, mostly due to the fact that for ages it was only available from Steve himself. Soundwise it stands head to head with standout line blurringly great one-offs such as Jowe Head's 'Pincer Movement' & Milk From Cheltenham's 'Triptych Of Poisoners'. Handscreened covers by Steve, includes original insert, I have the last 20 in existence, 1st come, 1st serve. And as an added bonus, Steve took the time to individually autograph all copies so no 2 are the same!

Babe The Blue Ox Need Not Apply.....Siltbreeze Announces Axemen Reissues For 2009!

2008-11-17T14:36:00.000-08:00

Yep, in conjuction w/Sleek Bott Indusries, Siltbreeze is PROUD to annouce no less than 3, count'em THREE, Axemen reissues to see the light of day in 2009. First up is a previously cassette only one entitled 'Big Cheap Motel' (originally released in 1983), followed by 'Scary!' (1989) & then a full-on repro of the cult classic ''Three Virgins, Three Versions, Three Visions' (1985). These will all be limited vinyl only runs, so stay tuned & feel free to email should you have any questions. The series begins in January & will continue through the whole of next yr. And who know, maybe even beyond!

For the uninformed, the Axemen have been the practitioners of a unique brand of DIY they lovingly refer to as 'Sigh-Fi' rock for 30 yrs now. Not an easy band to pin down sonically, their catalog speaks for itself in much've the same way as those belonging to The Homosexuals or Sun City Girls. That is to say vast & beautiful. For a mindblowing glimpse into the world of Axemen (+ related friends & accomplice's) check out; http://www.theaxemen.wordpress.com/ & be prepared to have copious block's of time squandered trying to fathom the genius. Also, for those who perhaps can't wait, Axemen have a site where you can purchase high quality cdr's of previous cassette's. Go to http://www.sleekbott.com/ & there you might get a jump on the rest of your not-quite-as-desperate brothers & sisters. Yeah, 2009 is looking to be quite an exciting yr for reissues. See y'all on the flipside!

Siltbreeze Updates.....Hank IV Do East Coast Tour, Pigs To Fly! Reissues Of U.S. Girls & Factums lp's Back In Stock Too!

2008-11-10T09:08:00.000-08:00

First I win the Paducah Rotary Club's annual Top Chef Award (again. Them crackers always love the Possum Bourguignon), then the Phils snag the World Series & now Hank IV's doin a slew of East Coast shows w/Los Llamarada. Looks like 2008 is goin out w/a bang! I got them dates posted below, but also wanted you folks to know we've got some copies of the new Hank IV LP 'Refuge In Genre' available direct. Comes w/a dropcard so's y'all can put it on yr Ipod or whatever too.

Also, the reish of U.S. Girls 'Introducting....' lp as well as Factums 'Alien Natives' is both back in stock. Lot's of folks has been askin for'em & now they's here & ready to ship. So get'em while their hot! One more time.

Prices are as follows;

US-15$ppd

Canada-17$ppd

Elsewhere-25$ppd

Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

Hank IV/Los Llamarada on East Coast;

Wednesday, November 12th, 8:00 PM Brooklyn, NY The Charleston with Los Llamarada, Blues Control, Black & Whites.

*Radio appearance, Tuesday, November 18th, 3:00 PM Newbridge, NJ WFMU, live in the studio for Brian Turner's Show*.

Thursday, November 13th, 8:00 PM Hoboken, NJ Maxwell's with Los Llamarada.

Friday, November 14th, 8:00 PM New York, NY Cake Shop with Los Llamarada.

Saturday, November 15th, 8:00 PM Philadelphia, PA Pi Lam House, 3904 Spruce St.,West Philly, with Los Llamarada, FNU Ronnies & Watery Love

Old Tricks For New Dogs.....Siltbreeze Antique Closeout!

2008-09-29T09:59:00.000-07:00

While I was digging around in the basement this weekend I came across a box containing some long out of print 7" titles. That got me curious so I trawled around some more, looking to see if there was anything else I'd put in storage & had forgotten about. The answer; not really. But I did find these & they are the LAST copies I have of each respective title. Availability is limited, so if your interested, please email me 1st to see if what your after is still around. Sorry if the prices seem high, maybe you can find them cheaper on Ebay. Or maybe not.

Queen Meanie Puss-The Darkling ep (SB-15)

QMP were a female quartet hailing out of Auckland, NZ. Formerly known as Angelhead (then based in Dunedin) they released a cassette on Bruce Russell's legendary Xpressway label around 1991 or so. A move north & a name change, they released their debut 7" on Flying Nun sometime in early '92. Then it was on to Siltbreeze for the follow-up (early '93). 'The Darkling' is 5 tracks of dark, tempered, post-post punk. I guess you could say there's a Raincoats vibe going on here, but they had to go through (pre Daydream Nation) Sonic Youth to get it. Originally pressed in an edition of 800, I have 7 copies still available.

15$ ppd US
16$ ppd Canada
18$ ppd elsewhere

Mike Rep & The Quotas-Quit Talking & Start Chalking ep (SB-19)

Released sometime mid 1993, this was a revamped Quotas Rep put together, they lasted a year or so & I believe this was the only thing they ever put out. Guitarist Gilmore Tamney would later go on to form The Yips, the other two.....? 3 tracks, loud, Rep-ified crud production, mostly unavailable elsewhere ('Village Idiot' can be found on the 'Tard & Furthr'd' cd comp) & are NOT slated for the Mike Rep & The Quotas dbl lp retrospective coming out next yr. This is it. These copies are from the 1st pressing of 500, all numbered, I have 0 copies left. SOLD OUT.

Dead C- Vs. Sebadoh (SB-25)

Regardless of the title, Sebadoh is nowhere to be found of this record. Just the Dead C lads having a laugh, such jolly jokers. This is the band's Hardcore release, 8 tracks of blazing, unbridled fury by (perhaps) the last band you'd expect to belly up to the H/C bar. None of the tracks on here are available elsewhere, though there is a snippet of 'Air' which would later be fully realized on the 'Operation Of The Sonne' lp. This came out originally in 1993, edition of 1000 copies. I have 0 available. SOLD OUT.

20$ ppd US
21$ ppd Canada
23$ ppd elsewhere

Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments-Negative Guestlist ep (SB-33)

From 1994, after much cajoling, Ron House finally relented & let us put out a TJSA record. This was the bands 4th release following a split 7", a 7" & 12" for Datapanik.
'Baboon's Liver' is arguably one of the best songs ever recorded (& can be found on the Tard & Furthr'd cd compilation, http://www.siltbreeze.com/) but the other 3 songs on here rock pretty mightily as well. Originally in an edition of 1000, I have 0 available. SOLD OUT.

20$ ppd US
21$ ppd Canada
23$ ppd elsewhere

(The Music Of) The Shadow Ring-Tiny Creatures/Harlequin (SB-35)

This 7" came out in early 1995 & was the band's 3rd release though their 1st for Siltbreeze. An excellent effort from the most unique band I ever worked with. Originally released in an edition of 800, I have 0 available. SOLD OUT.

20$ ppd US
21$ ppd Canada
23$ ppd elsewhere

Un-Transmissions/Hangin Judge (SB-61)

This was Un's 2nd & final release. Ostensibly offered as a tour only 7", this was 1st made available by the band on their west coast jaunt w/Harry Pussy the summer of 1996. Stylistically the band seemed to orbit around planet Royal Trux & both the tracks sound like they could maybe be outtakes from 'Twin Infinitives'. It's also interesting listening to 'Hangin Judge' again after all these yrs & hearing the seeds of the New Weird America free-wha? orchard being sown therein. I loved these guys but never was a band more aptly named. Would you be surprised to know that member Marcia Bassett would later go on to record w/Double Leopards, Hototogisu, Zaimph & countess other agitators of musical form & function? Yep, she's famous! Originally released in an edition of 1000, I have 5 copies still available.

10$ ppd US
11$ ppd Canada
13$ ppd elsewhere

Email & Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

New 7" on Siltbreeze.....Little Claw Pony Up

2008-09-19T09:38:00.000-07:00

Hey, whaddya know, another 7"! We're knockin these things out like Kosher corn dogs at the state fair. And we ain't got a singles club or nothin! This time it's Little Claw that's delivering the goods, two new tracks ( 'Race To The Bottom'/'Feed You') that careen off the walls of your skull like drunken Valkyries lashing through the halls of Valhalla. What would Odin think? Who cares! Our own Roland S. Woode sez;

"The evolution of Little Claw has been wondrous to behold & now their beguiling cluck has found it's way into the Siltbreeze ranks. On what is their 5th vinyl outing, the band has laid down 2 distinct tracks & they are mightly gallops of ambidextrous charge. 'Race To The Bottom' rakes across the nodules of your brain w/serrated glee while 'Feeding You' could be a cosmic transmission from futuristic denizens who have carved Terrence Mckenna' pancreas into psychedelic sweetbreads & gobbled them for lysergic sustenance. The sound is, as one of the main pie tasters from Bull Tongue recently opined, "Fucking Awesome"! Edition of 400 copies".

Prices are as follows;

US=6$

Canada=7$

Elsewhere-8$

Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

Look for Little Claw on tour w/Eat Skull & (on selected dates) Psychedelic Horseshit all through Sept. 08.

1st Siltbreeze 7" Since 1997.....Titmachine's 'We Build A New City/1989'

2008-08-21T12:21:00.000-07:00

That's right, our 1st foray back into the beguiling world of 7" vinyl since Sunshine Superscum's 'Two Reactions' ep back in '97. Why, you might ask, would Siltbreeze haul off & get's itself mixed up in a format brimming w/dipshit speculators & Ebay 'day traders'? Because Titmachine are that good! Sure, it's not the 90's anymore & the small pressing is the way to go in the here & now, so that's what we've done. How many are there? Well, hopefully enough. All copies have hand done artwork on label's, some even have a ltd. ed. rubberstamp on inner sleeve. Man, I'd forgotten what a pain in the ass assembling a bunch of 7"ers was! Thankfully there's only so many.

And now without further adieu, let me hand over the embellishment to everyone's favorite hillbilly, Roland Seward Woodbe;

For the lucky few who were floored by Titmachine's debut 7" (released earlier this yr via Meeuw Muzak) come this sophomore effort, loaded for bear & released on the Siltbreeze label. Continuing their penchant for a-side covers, this time the ladies tackle Palais Schaumburg's 'Wir Bauen Eine Neue Stadt' (or 'We Build A New City' if you speak only in God's preferred tongue) & the results are as devastatingly great as could be imagined. Stripped of it's NDW gloss, Titmachine's reworking is more doused in raw Gueuze than refined Pilsener. In other words, them yeast's be wild y'all! The flip is an awesome (& original) little jawdropper entitled '1989' & is remarkably akin to what the Shaggs might sound like tackling the Urinals 'Ack Ack Ack'. Pressed on heliocentric black vinyl in a human(e) edition of less than one million copies, how chuffed can your summer be if you miss this chance to woggle in Titmachine's primitve, urpy grock? Don't tempt fate, buy now!

Prices are postpaid & as follows;

USA-5$

Canada-6$

Europe-7$

Elsewhere-7$

Paypal to; sltrx@pil.net

Revenge Of The Bongoloids......Blueshift/Russian Tsarlag Split lp

2008-08-03T08:08:00.001-07:00

I know I've done railed on about my disdain for the split release format but it ain't like anyone's payin said bane much mind. Hell, you got labels like Not Not Fun doin whole series of split 7"ers & while they's is gobbled up (by speculators 'n fans alike) it don't mean they's good. But that's just an educated guess on my part as I don't own many. I reckon you get more bang for the buck, but mine's just break down to the 'good' & 'bad' sides. So bearin that in mind, I'm payin twice as much for what I like. I enjoyed that split lp last yr from Lexie Mountain & Lichens but to be honest, I could've used 2 sides of each. So again, there's a short shrift. Mind you, this is all petty complaints & there's them of you out there thinkin ol' Roland Woodbe is just whinin for whinin's sake. Not true. I'm just callin attention to a trend what I reckon to be lame. It's not like I'm gonna cut off my nose to spite my face, after all, I still buy'em in hope's of gleanin that diamond in the rough what's likely to appear every now & again. Case in point is this split lp from 2 Providence, RI artist's, Blueshift & Russian Tsarlag entitles 'The Burrow'/'Thank You For The Plastic Surgery You've Given Me'. Since they's from Providence & both been tagged as 'weirdo's it's a safe bet to presume they's both art school attendee's, graduates or dropouts. You get a letter pressed jacket + saddle stitched 32 page booklet w/assorted visuals, then there's the green vinyl lp which beholds the aural work of each. Can't say that Blueshift's improv violin scrape & assembled threadbare gloppage did anything for me but hey, if you still wax your pole to the itinerant heaps of piffle laid out by former Chocolate Monks, current Zaimphs, erstwhile Ashtray Navigators & the like, then there's a fat chance your gonna find this incessant filibustering potentially erectile.Me? The 1st thing that crossed my mind was it seemed like a good time to clip my fingernails. So I did. Then I flipped the record.
Now Russian Tsarlag is a whole different kettle of fish. He's got a pretty good grasp on humor, darkness & applied weirdness. His sound calls to mind the halcyon days of the early 80's when there was a small (but formidable) assemblage've roustabouts what fell outside any specific pecking order, hybridizin art/avant/industro squelch through the punk filters (which got'em tagged as weird), thereby isolating themselves in a cool corner of the scene that only a few of us embraced back then. I'm thinkin (early) Culturcide, Iceplants, Tom & Marty Band (to name a few). These folks def. fucked w/the rules of what was what & while that perhaps marginalized'em to the (then) arbiters, I was drawn to their skewered genius like a bear to honey. It was stuff that embodied a certain DIY aesthetic, as well it had to since nobody else was gonna touch it. It's still hard to say exactly what that sound was since it drew from so many wells, but Tom & Marty Band's credo was "We heard Chrome & Throbbing Gristle & thought they were pop bands' so maybe that gives you some idea of what I'm gettin at. They took Dada all the way to Mama & back (if you catch my drift). Nowadays with so much what's been done ( to death in most cases) in the underground bein pleasantly suprised by somethin like Russian Tsarlag almost makes me wanna take back all the shit talkin I done about the split release format. Almost, but unlikely. I could do w/out the Beach Boys cover, but I'm not gonna split hairs on account've that. I'm glad to have found the dude & I dunno, if you like the lines blurred & the zozzle zonked, Russian Tsarlag has some tunes for you to hum. Only 300 made. Find this via; http://www.rareyouth.org/

Paisley Douche Or Cactus Juice?.....The 'Worlds Lousy With Ideas' V/A 7" Series

2008-07-15T09:07:00.000-07:00

Compilation's can divide a room. I knows some folks who's always been about'em as they are great resources to find out about a never ending wealth of obscure talent. But said talent can sometimes go hand in hand with dreck & comps is certainly stacked on that front as well. And seein as how there's all sorts've ways to skin this cat-regional, national, genre, gender, you name it-well, having to tolerate the bad to get what's good is, as they say, an occupational hazard. I's always considered myself pro comp, though I think the past decade or so seen me back off from'em quite a bit. Alls I can recall were ones what was mostly tributes-Godz, Shaggs & the like- or label specific things of which even Siltbreeze capitalized on ( Capitalized?! Next time you want to shift the MANY boxes of Tard & Furtherd in the basement by all means, be my guest-Capt'n Siltbreeze). Or they was "free" if you bought a magazine, so then you was at the mercy of the compiler, who more times than not was fishin w/a baitless hook. Sure, plenty of KBD styled things was present but they's can hardly be described as risk takers. Whatever the case, I simply balked at the format. Could be I missed some corkers, it won't be the last time for that by a stretch. My sleepin manners is just fine, thank you very much .
Then last year Dan Dimaggio gave me this 7" of v/a's called Worlds Lousy With Ideas that come in an amazin array of sleeves. He was passin'em out after a Clockcleaner show so I figured, why not? Seemed they was from Hawaii, or maybe it was the Moon, wherever it was, there weren't no way to get in touch for more. Or that was the story Dan was stickin to. Fair enough, I had a copy & I'll be damned if it weren't a standup disc all around. The tracks from Home Blitz & Nothing People was ace & I even dug the one from the unknown band called Boys Club. And who amongst us don't love a suprise? So fastforward a few months down the calendar & I seen a couple more of these things. And man if they ain't bustin out tracks by just about everyone what's workin the circuit. For the sake've long story short, the way they's is divvied up between Punk & Experimental, this series calls to mind a forerunner in the scene, the late, lamented 'Life Is' series from the New Undergound label, way back in the early 80's. True, they was lp's & centered around the (then) greater LA scene, but indulge me here, the vibe is remarkably similiar. World's Lousy may not have ringers like Germs, Urinals or Minutemen in the lineup (yet) but to me them tracks always paled to the stuff I weren't familiar with. When I hear the contrib's by Eat Skull, Catatonic Youth, Little Claw, Lady Doctors, Wax Museums & the rest, it ain't so hard for me to recall Anti, China White, Mood Of Defiance, Zurich 1916, Civil Dismay + all's them that saddled up for NU. I guess what I'm sayin is if you's is hearin folks talk about how nowadays is not unlike the early 80's, 'World's Lousy With Ideas' is certainly a case in point. And I got nary a problem w/that. The name's have changed, the spirit however, remains intact. And ain't it all about the fun in the end? I'd say so, hell yes! You think them girls on the cover of #6 would disagree? Not likely. Life is so bitchin, why not stock up? Go to; http://www.almostreadyrecords.com/ for further info.

The Medium Was Tedium.....And More 7" Reviews

2008-07-13T11:32:00.000-07:00

I can't rightly explain why it's taken me so long to come up w/so few reviews. Alls I can say is that I have been up against it, I tell you what. I spent this past week over to some rock critic shindig in Rochester, NY & the minute I walked into the main conference room at the Strathallan, it was clear I'd made a big mistake. There was all sorts've bleating goin on about Shitgaze, etc. At one point I had many a English person askin me if I personally knowed any of the Psychedelic Horseshit fellas & was it true they preferred an English Shower? I took that to mean no showerin at all & nodded my head yes, laughin the whole time. The things people's want to know! I watched 2 lip flappers debate on which Leslie Q lp was best, a high school class what come up from Snipesville, Georgia to read papers on their favorite Jandek record & why, slept through a symposium on early Wire vs. the current one & was generally bored to tears. I'd been asked to attend and debate which was better, Columbus bands or one from Cleveland but that was on Saturday-the final day-& I reckoned I'd be long gone by then. To tell the truth, I spent most of my time eatin from chef Ethan Drake's menu down to The Grill, the inhouse restaurant there at the Strathallan ( I particularly enjoyed the Foie burger which was seared foie gras, bacon & beef. What's not to love?). Funny thing was there weren't no bands playin, just a lot've opinionated folks soundin off on things they cared about more than they knowed. I sat through one q&a when some rotund fella from Mexico spouted off something about the hegemony of Siltbreeze. He was eatin a hotdog, mustard & relish runnin down his porcine cheeks & talkin a mile a minute. There was something he mushed about Siltbreeze being a clearing house for clowns or bitches but no one knew what the hell he was talking about. Afterwards I went over to the buffet table where he was loadin up another coney to ask him how he'd got his head so far up his ass but he seen me comin & he shot outta the room, the speed of which I ain't never seen from a man his size. Maybe he oughta give up on the rock crit game & give them Mexican Olympic trials a go. Anyways, by then I'd had enough. The whole things had just confused & saddened me. But I guess I had it comin. After all, I did agree to attend even though I knowed instinctively what would play out. Not all of it was a wash, there was plenty of well informed folks, but the ones what try & come off like they's 'keepin it real' was just half-assed pedants who seemed more ego driven than knowledgeable. Or just jealous. Either way I guess. I didn't think the Mexican fella was a total idiot. I mean, he's gotta go to sleep sometime, right?
But that was last week. Today I went & listened to these here records & a fine pile they was. Have at'em.

Florida's Dying has gone & taken a dip in the Moselle only to wash ashore w/a 7" of brimstone howl via The Feeling Of Love. One side of this is deep in the synth/dark wave scheme that's taken western Europe by a storm, I esp. love the jabberin what sounds like Chicken Little hysterically tryin to place an order for the entire henhouse minutes before the last frites stand in Metz calls it a day. The flip is two scuzzy ramblers that recall the stripped down, how-do-you-do fuzz barrage the Workdogs excelled at so many, many records ago. Stick that in the cuff of your jeans & torch it. http://www.floridasdying.com/

Listenin to the a-side've the Dead Clodette's debut 7" I was inexplicably reminded of 'Chinese Gangster' by Warm Gun. It ain't a bad thing by any means, I liked that bunch plenty & it I could put my hands on their ep I'd give it a spin & see they's anywhere in the same orbit. The flip on this one moves nicely along too, remindin me of a femme version of Tyvek. Initally I dug the bass heavy mix but upon repeated listening-mostly to try & figure out if my tone arm needed adjustin or if it was just a fucked pressing (bingo!)-the skips started to drive me crazy. And seein as how this thing cost 12$ to order direct from France, I do believe I got the shit end of the stick. They's certainly got promise, but business via French Vinyl has got to go. www.myspace.com/trashmondainrecords

Is it me or does a band called the Pizza's scream Rip Off/Goner style lo-fi garage/punk pogoholic voom? Chuck Taylor & Doc Marten is all over this one. No suprises here but I reckon that's how they want it. http://www.daggerman.com/

Long Legged Woman (I think) is somehow connected to an outfit named Butt Savage but that's a quandry for another day. On this they certainly run the gamut, the a-side entitled 'Something Is Pressing Against It From The Outside' careen's around like Eat Skull covering 'Sedan Delivery' inside a Robotussin humidor. Side B has a remarkable Xpressway like quality to it's aura. Could be outtakes for either Jefferies brother 7" or a distant demo from an early incarnation of Plagal Grind. Who knew?
www.myspace.com/longleggedwoman

It's kind've remarkable to see the sand in the face, post hardcore aggression made famous in the late 80's by way of Touch & Go or Amphetamine Reptile finally catchin on in Columbus, Oh some 20+ yrs after the fact. Sure, Monster Truck 5 were lubed for action around '88 or so but that was a quick spurt & since then......
Now in the space of 7 months there's 2 releases from the CDR folks what is primed for a blood letting & string mangling bonanza. Necropolis burst through the door 1st w/a new sneer & face full've warts & now this outfit called The Unholy Two have followed suit w/2 pus filled boil poppers. Their unhinged caterwaul calls to mind a more distempered Clockcleaner & for a moment there as the 1st track was beginnin to distort, I swear I almost heard shades of pre Shadoobie Boredoms. From a Columbus band! Hey, if they cozy up to some blue chippers maybe these guys are next in line to curate a teenage riot or at the very least, adopt some (free) kitten's. http://www.columbusdiscountrecords.com/

De Stasi is a small label outta Finlay, Oh which seems to be forgin a foundation similiar to another midwester legend, the mighty Bone Air label. Of course we all know Bone Air was only around for 4 releases but what massive releases they was! So far De Stasi has done 2 TV Ghost records & excuse me for sayin so, but their lp is one of the best things I've heard in a long time. I know I never seen fit to review it here & that's my bad, as it is a grower of Herculean proportions. As great as the 7" is, steeped in a slithery, meth flaked Crampsish brine, the lp dominates w/some unclassifiable Goth vibe, like a heavy metal Goblin on acid. Anyway, a fantastic record & one to keep an eye peeled for. Now there's 2 new dudes on the block, one from somethin called Leper Print what possesses a ton've charm & diy punk propulsion. With heart firmly implanted on sleeve this little record spurts geysers of happy, squidish ink, 2 of the tracks resemblin the late great Toxic Shock while the 'Dead Flowers' tune marches along w/the ack ack attack of The Urinals (whom I'm assumin this is in tribute to). Zola Jesus is a chanteuse from Indiana who I'm told is one of the leading architects behind some sub genre called Crimson Wave. Excuse me for tryin to wrap my brain around this, but what does that mean? The undertones is certainly ripe w/Freudian connotations, conjurin up both castration anxiety & penis envy. And I know West Lafayette is a college town (go Boilermakers!) so let's leave this one on the shelf for blabbermouths w/majors & electives to concur or refute. So.....Zola Jesus. As charmin as the tape hiss is on this lo fi gem, that voice don't lie; this gal's got some range! Like the aforementiond TV Ghost, Zola Jesus traverses across some gothic terrain, but there's also tinges of Vega/Rev action, Cab Volt twiddle & an almost ESP like understandin've Amy Camus alter ego. Whatever it is, it works. So call it Crimson Wave if you's must, just don't lame up in the process or I will PERSONALLY see to it that Zola Jesus cuts off your balls & feeds them to you for supper. The Woodbe reach can be ruthless, beware. www.myspace.com/diestasi www.myspace.com/leperprint
& www.myspace.com/zolajesus

And on the eastern seaboard, this label what's called Sacred Bones is sort've a Castor to De Stasi's Pollux ( or vice versa, I ain't tryin to play favorites) & is also burnin bright w/a roster've solitary crawlers. The one from Nice Face hustles along in warm currents that sounds like Chemicals Made From Dirt tacklin outtakes from Taking Tiger Mountain By Strategy. Dead Luke's debut also soars through the darkness, carpetbombing the bogs w/sonorous voce, layers of grock & stinging guitars. Seein him live down to SXSW this yr was one of my highlights. His flare'n understanding of early 80's regional wave is pretty spot on & the label itself seems primed to showcase this sort've genre much the same way them Sub Pop cassette's (#5 & #7 was the ones I had) served as fulcrums to inform a few hundred of us as to the talents of Neo Boys, Sport Of Kings, Zyklon, Ray Milland & a few others. My trousers maybe ain't tight as they once was but that don't mean I forgot the moves. The lp's from Pink Noise & Factums is winners too. A round've beers would be the ticket were we in the same room, but as it stands, one made've applause will have to do. www.myspace.com/nicefacetheband
www.myspace.com/bornunderadick & http://www.sacredbonesrecords.com/