When Grandpa's A Rockin, Do The Fuzz Come A Knockin?.....A Few Words About Slicing Grandpa

I know this'll come as a surprise to damn near none of ya's, but I possess snob tendencies. I do! Let's face it, I have done questionable things. How about the time I ponied up & bought that expensive Josephus bootleg for 45$ when my money'd been better spent on a 4$ original of that red Grand Funk album? Oh I could spin plenty of them sort've tales. Nobody could tell me nothin. Still, I never succumbed to payin 20$ for a Charlie Daniels record, but then I ain't up there in New York City either. Is it filled with comedians? It must be, the stories I hear!
Now what any of this has to do w/Slicing Grandpa is worth the price of onions in Bermuda (or somethin to that effect). Slicing Grandpa hail outta Seattle, WA which is farther away from NYC than my ass is from my elbow (a claim not all of you can make). If your a sucker for rich cutups, noise collages & texturalization, Slicing Grandpa has his knee out for you to bounce on. What initially struck me about Gramps' work was how much it resembled Pigface era Smegma & maybe even Witcyst ( & not just 'cause of the great human touch artwork either). And how can you go wrong w/that? It's got a good, healthy 'n organic DIY vibe to it that's part's here 'n there noise, art, joke, rock, rust, creep & crawl. I was gonna say somethin too about old Boy Dirt Car cassettes & that File Under Pop 7" & you know what? I just did!
Oh yeah, now I remember the snob connection I had in regards to Slicing Grandpa. If this'd come out a few yrs back on the United Dairies label I'd have forked over large sums of cash to own it. At the same time, if it's been released on, say, Vinyl Communications, I'd have probably never givin it the time of day. Sad ain't it? That was the old me. The new me says there ain't nary a distributor that carries Slicing Grandpa (that I know of). I think there's a MySpace page & there's always the good ol' USPS. Write; Slicing Grandpa, 903 Grand Union St, Apt. 709, Seattle, WA 98101
Get'em while their hot!

BEEP, BEEP! Stop press; just got an email for Grandpa; elmn8r@hotmail.com
drop him a line

Malice In Dairyland.....Pink Reason's S/T 7"

At 1st glance I thought this was a 7" by Pink Section! Remember them? I can't says that I was excited by the prospects of a new Pink Section record, mostly because the one skinny tie I owned I'd lent to a neighbor back home who'd used it to asphyxiate himself in the shower while playin that lp by Tangier. I never did find out if it was some of that kinky auto-erotica shit or just good ol' depression come knockin & if you ever heard the Tangier album, you know what a hard call that'd be to make! It could go either way.
But I gave it a second look & seen it was a band called Pink Reason & they weren't from nowhere's near SF, hailin instead outta Green Bay, WI. They seem to have a pretty good take on the woeful ennui that make Saxon hearts (& veins) flutter & I wouldn't be suprised to meet this band & find'em wrapped in scarves that had once been owned by JG & Ch 39 or other, lesser known phlegmatic Deutsch masters that worship at the Reed, Chilton, Richards alter. From a more jovial, Quixotic perspective (mine or theirs, no matter) this could also pass for liquid take, pre Ohio Demo's from the Cramps; the wet, nascent beat of gravel 'n blues has a loose & rickety DIY presence that would make any right-headed Anglo murk-shuffler light up like a radial bonfire. The best record of it's ilk to ooze outta Wisconsin since Hollywood Autopsy slithered into exile. 300 pressed. Get it here; http://www.s-srecords.com/
Contact the band at; Savage Quality Recordings, 1132 S. Quincy St., Green Bay, WI 54301

And Thusly Gabriel And Raphael Became The Keepers Of The Eternal Guestlist.....Spectre Flux 'Agouc' CDR & Warmer Milks 'Aja Braun' CDR

The one thing I can unequivocally endorse in the New Weird America are the band names. Like, totally! I mean, I know the music is trying to be crazy & everything, but sometimes the sound's never gonna be as over-the-top as the name. I could give examples, but c'mon! You know what I'm talkin about. Do you really need me to guide your little finger in the direction to point 'n laugh? Nope! Sometimes I wonder what would've happened in Rhode Island if Harry Pussy'd never played up there. The hypothesis is mind boggling.
But there ain't nothin nobody can do about that now. I was just countin my good fortune the other day when a folded up pie-tin (wrapped in blue painters tape) arrived from a cdr label called WFOT intent on challengin my cheery mood. Thankfully there was just a couple've releases inside-still alive too-so it only took about a half'n hour to get in 'n free them little bastards from that mangled mess. My hands felt like the jaws of life rescuin them cdr's; they was covered in crumbs 'n pie residue (strawberry? rhubarb? it was hard to tell exactly) but after a bit of spiffin up, they looked & played just fine. At least I think so. I dunno, I'll let y'all fill in the blanks on these ones. I will say this; I pretty sure there's another new psychedelic movement afoot. That is if your willing to accept tequila 'n percoset's as the new marijuana & LSD. I know it ain't the same but I think that's the point.

Spectre Flux 'Agouc' cdr
To their truest & dearest fans, __________are the best band ever! No band can possibly match them in terms of atmosphere & intensity. To think that a band of this magnitude could exist AND have come from planet Earth? It is almost incomprehensible to contemplate. And it is for this reason that fans of __________are so devoted. It is as though they have died & gone to Heaven. The band members are Gods & the fans're Angels. Life in Heaven is show after show, release after release & they are always great! Great playing, great cdr's, great fans, great times! Gods & Angels.....together! They want someone to pinch them but that wouldn't do any good. They are already in Heaven. Also in Heaven there is never any mention of __________ or __________ because those bands are still on earth. The agonizing pursuits of fame & fortune are useless in Heaven. It is blissful an all gnarlizing. The term "originality" is obsolete & besides, what does it mean anyway? It is all about pretending. If you pretend well enough, anything is possible. Even a life in Heaven. Look at what it has done for __________. Isn't Heaven great?

Warmer Milks 'Aja Braun' cdr

To their truest & dearest fans, __________are the best band ever! No band can possibly match them in terms of atmosphere & intensity. To think that a band of this magnitude could exist AND have come from planet Earth? It is almost incomprehensible to contemplate. And it is for this reason that fans of __________are so devoted. It is as though they have died & gone to Heaven. The band members are Gods & the fans're Angels. Life in Heaven is show after show, release after release & they are always great! Great playing, great cdr's, great fans, great times! Gods & Angels.....together! They want someone to pinch them but that wouldn't do any good. They are already in Heaven. Also in Heaven there is never any mention of __________ or __________ because those bands are still on earth. The agonizing pursuits of fame & fortune are useless in Heaven. It is blissful an all gnarlizing. The term "originality" is obsolete & besides, what does it mean anyway? It is all about pretending. If you pretend well enough, anything is possible. Even a life in Heaven. Look at what it has done for __________. Isn't Heaven great?

(Contact WFOT via trettman@hotmail.com)

I Think, Therefore, That I Shall Never See....Modern Poetry, Old & New!

It's late & there's one helluva an electrical storm illuminatin the sky & rumblin around outside. I don't know about all this city livin 'n whatnot, but where I'm from, that's a time for sittin tight an shuttin up so that's (kinda) what I'm doin. No time for music, so's I hunkered down w/a collection've modern poetry that was sent my way courtesy've Slow Toe Publications outta Cleveland. It's called 'The Skull Of Love' & has as a distinguished list've authors; Devendra Banhart, Tom Greenwood, John Moloney & Lee Ranaldo among them (Ann Lee, Panagiotis Spoulos & Matthew Wascovich round it out). The one thing I noticed in this modern poetry that seems new is that anybody can do it! Ya just write down some stuff. I wish I could excerpt some of the work, but I don't got permission & I don't wanna step on any toes. You'll just have to read it for yourselves. Shit, on 2nd thought, what the hell? Here's one from Devo B;

WILL IS MY FRIEND
The lemon tree it laughs at me
It's growing beautifully

And here's one from Tommy G;
I.

eva
kills
ox
yoke

Wow, great stuff! It seems like they could've just made all that up on the spot but no; that's hard work, diligence & sweat buddy boy! Kudos. B-r-i-l-l-i-a-n-t, I believe, is how they spell it (in the mirror).
Let's face it, on the publishing end, it helps if your already famous or a shaman or somethin (nothin new there) but I think-with the right connections-I might have the fixin's of a modern poet. Check this out;



NEW MATH
I'll take salad's
over hotdog's
anyday
for lunch
now


Or this one;

PARADOX
If it was raining
inside
as hard as it is
outside
I could
get
rather
wet

I call these my pre natal poems. They was words that was in my little baby brain before I was even born, it just took me 56 yrs to get'em on paper in the right order. Or did I? Ya know, on second thought, I don't think I got what it takes. My syntax is all off & my pentameter's screwed up....... poetry is hard! Plus I don't know nobody, ya know, "in the biz". It's times like this when you gotta consult the masters. I direct your attention to the poet Fraser Suicyde & two of his most stellar works, found in this long forgotten book (uh, actually the fanzine) OPPS! (#5, Fall, 1982);

OH NO! HERE COMES BOB MARTIN
That scary retarded guy-
On a girls bike-
With a bell on it.
Here he comes-
He's about 30-
Oh shit, he's waving at me!!!

And who could ever forget:

THE NEVER-ENDING M*A*S*H THEME:
Have you ever heard
The theme from M*A*S*H?
And then you keep hearing it
Again and again
And it's not even playing and then
All distant music sounds like it?
Sometimes I think about
The theme from Star Trek
And it goes out of control in my brain
And it seems like its so loud
That other people can hear it.

Donald Hall, are you there, CAN YOU HEAR ME?! Outstanding stuff, really. Truly fantastic. Ladies & Gentlemen of the MacArthur Foundation, if you are reading this, please do some research & track down this neglected genius & give his life....continued hope. And purpose. Before it's too late. Thank you.

(contact Slowtoe at; http://www.slowtoe.com/
OOPS! was an excellent fanzine that once functioned out've Willoughby, Ohio & # 5 has 12 other poems by FS. Dig it up!)

Go To Hospital, Go Directly To Hospital.....'Auto Glamour Sound' CD (sort of) & The Cincinnati Label, Hospital

My mother's husband Jasper was in town this past weekend just in time to celebrate Father's Day (even though he ain't my dad). We had a right nice time drinkin & talkin & drinkin some more. I guess all the laughin we was doin got contagious 'cause my Czech neighbors Tibor & Kimi heard us & invited themselves over. They brought with'em a big ol' bowl've slaw made w/red cabbage & bacon plus huge links of fresh kielbasa for the grill. Jasper'd rolled into town w/a case of Strega so it looked like we was all fixed up. Tibor 'n Jasper got to exchangin World War II stories ( I especially enjoyed the one Jasper told about punchin Gore Vidal in the nose over a fruitcake in the Aleutians) & Kimi was jabberin away, rushin through the stack've 7"ers, cd's & lp's all over the house. "Hospital's, hospital's" she kept sayin, "where is for hospital's?" I guess all that Strega was takin it's toll 'cause when I got up to see what she was goin on about, my head was spinnin like a top & I hit the ground like a sack've cement. Out like a light, not a worry in the world. Good night & good luck.
Next mornin I had a helluva headache & could barely make out the note Kimi'd duct taped to my chest. But I finally knew what all the hospital commotion was about:

Hey Mr. Roland;
Hey, you not so tough guy with Strega. It drink for bull! Next time you drink only beer, yes?
I find hospital's, I find all you hospital's. I know you to have some of it for I to hear 'Drinking Elvis Wine' come from speakers at your house. I play all hospital's. Please stop snoring. You to for interrupt beauty of hospital's. Next time I piss in you eyes.Thank you.
So for you to know; maybe invest in new cd compilation of Hospital's? It released on Shake It label, called 'Auto Glamour Sound: A Hospital Records Compilation'. Tibor order it from Fusetron. That way you no ruin records, sell to me cheap, yes? I kid, I kid! But for seriously, I want records. Tibor too. We make deal later.
I think cd is good collection. Maybe you to write about for blog. Here is list of records I play. MY records soon, yes?

Auto Glamour Sound- V/A dbl 7"
Dementia Precox-Mines/Death On 2 Legs Luncheonette 7"
BPA-By-products Of America 12"
QI-ZZ-Two Dimensional Love Affair/New Baby 7"
Human Zoo-s/t mini lp
BPA-Moving & Storage lp
(also, 2 Dementia Precox other records I find. I want!)
Dementia Precox -Of Parts Unknown LP
Dementia Precox-SCHP 12"ep

Next time we meet for drink, you stay away from Strega. Maybe ginger brandy for you until legs grow hollow.

Nostrovia to you Woodbe!

Kimi

('Auto Glamour Sound' cd is available via http://www.fusetronsound.com/
or http://www.midheaven.com/)

Cosmic Couriers Of The Golden Gate.....Wooden Shjips s/t 10" EP

It's not every day that a free 10" record shows up in the post & it's an even rarer one when said record is actually good. Did I just hear something about a tornado watch? Figures! Sure I got my share've lathe cuts + a variety of who's who releases on the format-which had a short spurt of vogueness in the mid 90's-but really, thinkin back, I cannot recall more than the obligatory couple've plays before they was filed away till time immemorial. Look at'em; Noise Addict, Budd, Tono-Bungay.....not exactly names that scream Murderers Row. And there's loads've others, it's just too painful to go through the list. So I figured it'd be hard to muster great enthusiasm for this Wooden Shjips 10" on account've the legacy of mediocrity left in it's wake. But I'm nothin if not open minded so's I played it straight off. That was almost a week ago. It ain't left the turntable since. Hailin from the SF area, Wooden Shjips seem to have their wagon hitched to a post psychedelic/punk damaged Krautrock environ that just not enough people are astute enough to homestead. The 1st track 'Shrinking Moon For You' has tremendous sustained guitar (+ talent button accompaniment) as well as primal repetitive bass that recalls the warmer fuzz destruction moments off've Guru Guru's 'UFO' lp while the 2 on the flip-'Death's Not Your Friend' & 'Space Clothes'-sound not unlike something you might hear on a Zick Zack label mix tape or better yet, outtakes from the S.Y.P.H. s/t double 7". Dieses ist die wirklicken Abkonnenfreude. Wooden Shijps sure do put the 'itch' in Witchy & seein as how this is a limited release of 300, you better scratch fast. Go to woodenshjips@hotmail.com

Do Your Work, But Do Your Thing.....LAFMS 'The Lowest Form Of Music' 10cd Boxset

I was invited to a cookout yesterday & a couple've attendin rubes went at me, gangin up tryin to convince me that Wolf Eyes was the greatest American Noise band ever. What do you say to that? I didn't utter a peep. Instead, I went home & grabbed my Airway '(live at lace)' lp & took it back so's we could all make the comparison. And I got nothin against Wolf Eyes-really!-but yo, goin up against Airway.....that's the daddy of'em all. Forget it. Airway invented No Mas! music. And the lp doesn't even compare to the cd version-the entire unedited set-that comes in the LAFMS boxset 'The Lowest Form Of Music'. Whether you know or don't about the Los Angeles Free Music Society, if your spending mucho hard earned dollars on the New Weirdo stuff, then it's only fair to inform ya that the blueprint's 'n cheat sheets for most've them outfits is housed within this 10 cd box (along w/2 extensive booklets've photos & essays). LAFMS were the New Weird America when nobody was payin attention 25-30 years ago. For the price of what'd cost you to buy, say, the 3rd Double Leopards lp, you could have an amazing array of work from Smegma, Le Forte Four, Airway, Doo-Dooettes (aka the 1st Double Leopards) + tons more. This was the ground zero of knob-turning, brain scrambling twiddle-zorp, the nascent dawn of Suitcase Rock.They put the Samson in 'Samsonite'. Really, you pick up this thing, give it a long listen & it's only a matter've time before you gather up all yr over hyped lameness, collect'em in a burlap sack like a litter've unwanted kittens & toss'em into a creek. But don't take my word for it. No less of an authority than Francesca Lothario (?) wrote what I consider to be one've the best review's of this collection I ever came across. I have reprinted it below.
And I got nothin against Double Leopards either, but shit, that fuckin Airway cd really kicks some serious ass. Seriously!
-Roland Woodbe

LAFMS; The Lowest Form Of Music 10cd box set (RRR)

As a girl coming of age in a suburb of Cincinnati in the late 70's, I had two things going against me: (1) I was a female & (2) I lived in a very nowhere part of the country. Disco & bad rock ruled the airwaves. In 1977 my brothers had a shitty (also known as "New Wave") band-The Brides Of Bullwinkle-that would play around the university area of Cincy & I'd always tag along, if for no other reason than to shop at the one, good used record shop in the area, Mole's. I couldn't stand the dreck those 2 imbeciles & their idiotic pals spewed out & I knew there must be something else to music besides bad rock & it's various "lesions". I began to impulsively buy records from the 50 cent bin, anything that looked remotely weird & wasn't concerned with having a big cock. Records like the Silver Apples 1st lp, Xenakis, Robert Wyatt's 'End Of An Ear, 'Archie Shepp's 'Pan African Festival' & other like-minded, left-field heaviness became staples for me, almost literally glued to the hand me down record player in my room. I was in heaven, I'd found music that was seemingly made just for me, was cheaper than dirt, went well w/weed & didn't smell like a rotten crotch. Then one day while I was checking out a copy of 'No Pussyfooting' on the store's turntable, this guy Brad started to talk to me. One thing led to another & the next thing you know, we're dating. Brad was also into non-Rock & bought records in the mail from this organization known as the Los Angeles Free Music Society. You remember Richard Dreyfuss towards the end of Close Encounters? That's what I felt like when he showed me those records for the 1st time. I was ready to climb aboard! Airway, Blorp Essette, Le Forte Four, The Pablums, this stuff was fantastic! Sheer contra-rock, absurdo experimentale, art brut concrete, tinkles, blips, blaps, whoosh, radically dilapidated & wonderfully so. I was like a moth headed for the light whenever these records & cassettes were playing & I began to write away for them myself. I can honestly say I was never disappointed by any of it & was turned onto a whole 'nother world of weirdness that was in it's embryonic heyday, most notably records by Half Japanese & The Residents, who were already "established". LA, or at least it's fringe, was starting to look like the place to be. But by '82 or so, the LAFMS was starting to close up shop, the 'Lightbulb Emergency' dbl cassette was the last thing I got & I later found a Doo-Dooettes 'Look At This' lp in a dollar bin in Ann Arbor (where I was going to college). I wrote them a few more times, but got nary a return. I was beginning to concentrate more on painting, then media & video arts, much of it inspired by those musicians, pranksters & freaks & I wanted to thank them for having such a profound influence on my life. Also, sex was best when any one of their records was playing, despite whinings to the contrary from the dorks that I bonked back in those days (I'm a lesbian now & happier for it).
Then in 1985, a fire swept through my studio & home while I was in Europe & I lost everything. And while there were many things gone that were irreplaceable, the thing I pined away most for was my LAFMS collection. It had always been something of a secret society, the "membership" was few & the records & legacy now extinct & obscure. It was a hopeless task trying to track down any of it, no one knew what I was talking about when I mentioned it, so I just shut up. "Maybe it never really existed" I told myself. It's funny what your willing to believe in the name of solace.
But yes by God it had existed & while I was in NYC to curate a retrospective of my work last year I saw this cardboard box in the window of a record store in the Lower East Side w/the letters LAFMS emblazoned in gold across the front. "Jesus Mary & Joseph", I said to myself, "it can't be". But there it was, an entire box set, 10 cd's worth of the entire output-& more-of the finest music to ever exist on any planet in this godforsaken universe. It was all there, all of it, every wonderful second, & now housed in a sturdy, slide-open box with a staggering array of photo & essay documentation letting me in even further to the only world I had ever wanted to know. And for a measly 100$ it was mine & everything was right in the world. Again.
My uncle Lionel has a saying he's fond of. "The 70's wasn't all about ass" he says, "sometimes it was about face too". And to an extent, I agree with him. Listening to this music again-some 20 yrs since I 1st heard it-I realize how timeless it is. And immediate. And most importantly, original. It was music by & for (primarily) non-musicians & while that sentiment is still very much alive in today's underground, it's just not as pure. The LAFMS was a beautiful face full of teeth in the '70's, pearly whites sparkling widely & parading high above the boring chaos in a world of shit-encrusted assholes. And I was there. You better believe it sister.
-Francesca Lothario
(reprinted from Opprobrium #5, 1998).

www.rrrecords.com

Better Late Than Never.....Kubelka's 'We're Gonna Do It Like This Now' LP

MG's gonna be arrivin any day now w/her massive disco collection that she's bringin back from Paducah & I have to make room for it. I don't wanna incorporate'em into my records, but you know, I wanna let'em have some shelf space. God forbid I get tagged as some sorta elitist.
So I'm rummagin around & diggin up all kind'sve lost sounds. Record's I haven't listened to in....Lord knows how long! When I did my move, I was too frantic to see what was what & instead, just heaped the crates into the Uhaul & away we went. I never bothered to sort'em once we was ensconced, so this weekend was my time to refamiliarize myself w/some old friends. I could go on about the greatness of Disciplina Kicme, Paul Daskin & Speckled Ax or Buzz Martin but why rub it in? Just put them names down on your wish list & wait till the WFMU Record Fair comes around & maybe they'll be waitin there for ya. The one record I do wanna mention was this fantastic lp by a Canadian outfit called Kubelka entitled 'We're Gonna Do It Like This Now' on a label called She Sells. Looks like it's from '99 or so & I was scratchin my head as to how I came about ownin it. I sorta recall buyin it, but just filed it away like a stupe. Out've Ottawa, Kubelka seem to be primarily a trio but w/a special guest 4th member (on here). The lp is divided into parts I & II & within them parts was 6 & 4 suites respectively. I dunno, it's hard to pin'em down; there are definite elements of Krautism higher key guitar weep at work & a sneaking suspicion (on my part) that these guys once dabbled in "hard" Fusion (Tony Williams Lifetime, Mahavishnu Orchestra) but then suddenly swung like a wrecking ball into the outersphere of Avant Rock, ala This Heat goin nose to nose w/Glenn Branca, Rhys Chatham, et al. while a room full've the grubbier Rock In Opposition player's cheer'em on. It's a goddamn great lp & now I know why I bought it! How come I didn't play it-till-now- that's what I can't figure. Musta been a manstrual cycle thing. But that wrong has been righted & y'all could do a lot worse than to email'em & see if this thing is still around. The plastic on mine say 'edition of 300' (which explains the paste on sleeve & rubberstamped labels) & that was almost 8 yrs ago. I won't keep ya. Go forth 'n good luck!
shesellsrecords@hotmail.com
She Sells Records; 6 Merriman Ave., Ottawa, Ont. K1K 3E6, Canada

Homework Can't Kill You But Why Take A Chance?.....Buckets And Batteries 'Live To Freedom' 7" EP

Some Thursday's is better than others & yesterday was one of'em. First off, I got a call from an ol' waiter friend of mine, Benson. He said he & his wife was comin into town & was I up for playin some Kilslug drinkin games? "I most certainly am" was my reply! They live in one of them newfangled cardboard condominium's out in West Philly-a gated community, ain't nothin there-so it was up to me to go 'n fetch the libations. Benson invented this drink, the Larry Lifeless, that is amazin! I ain't never made one, but I know it's got triple sec, Meyer's rum, a splash of maraschino cherry juice & Tab. It walks the walk, let me tell ya! The Tab is like the secret ingredient on account that it's so hard to find. But I know one place off South Street that has it so I had me some walkin to do. On my way home I stopped into this record store to have a look around. They was havin a 7" sale & the fella behind the counter is always pretty good about lettin me hear stuff so I had a gander.Jeez, I'll tell ya what, there wasn't one goddamn thing in there that caught my eye! Then at the back of the last box was this Buckets & Batteries ep. The sleeve is made out've a manila folder, handpainted 'n taped together, it looked like something that might house a Prick Decay cassette. How bad could it be? I took it up to have a listen. We couldn't have been more than a few seconds into the 1st song when the clerk said "sounds a little like Sunburned Hand". I know what your thinkin. Me too! But then I remembered he said the same thing last time I was in & wanted to hear a Delaney & Bonnie album. So I bought it. It was only 2 bucks & I can't even get the bus back for that. City of brotherly love my ass! It's a good thing I wore my Rockports.
So once home, I put it on & gave a more discernin ear. The clerk was right, it does smack-HARD- of Sunburned Hand Of The Man. At least on the first side. Then I looked at the insert & it says they're from the MA/VT area where that sorta stuff grows wild. Still, it wasn't so bad. The flip has a curious aura & flow to it that sounded like it could almost be salvaged bit's of DR503 that someone rescued from the cutting room floor. Granted, there's some whisperin & whatnot that I could do without, but at the same time, in their own way, Buckets & Batteries was lettin me know that the first Dead C lp was a Grandpappy. I was all ready to fire up a blunt in celebration when the doorbell rang. I'd plum near forgot about Benson stoppin by. I got 'Answer The Call' ready on the turntable then went over 'n let'em in. Things was about to get interesting!
So yeah, this Buckets And Batteries ep. I reckon it's a keeper. It ain't a record I'll play a lot, but I don't miss them two dollars either. Who knows, maybe it'll grow on me. It don't rain around here like it used to, but that just makes the challenge more.....challenging.
You can contact the band at; bucketsandbatteries@hotmail.com
Contact the label at: dihd, pob 901, New Brunswick, NJ 08903

The Trouble Ain't That There Is Too Many Fools, But That The Lightning Ain't Distributed Right....JOMF's 'Candyland' LP

Yo, I'm as bummed as you that nobody asked me for my contribution to that Overrated book. I wouldn't have had to think too hard on it either! Actually, that's not entirely true. I had willfully forgotten about my entry until someone sent me a link to a vid of a live performance by JOMF from last year that was bustin at the seams, chock full've pretentious, "organic" & spontaneous (ugh) FREE ass-squirt that's almost pathetic enough to make you wanna go & get a law degree just to sue somebody for that time back. Imagine holdin a grudge that long? Hey, you watch the thing & tell me I ain't gotta case! But you know, it didn't stop me from buyin this latest by Jackie-O-Motherfucker 'cause I didn't wanna miss anything. And guess what? I didn't! Isn't there some old sayin about a fool & his money? That'd be me. Hell, I had a bunch've their other stuff through the yrs & have always been flummoxed as to why anyone'd give two shit's about this tired brand of gelded, atmospheric whatchamacallit. Then again, I'm not a toque wearer. In the world of New Weird America harness racing, JOMF are a loose reined trotter, plodding & definitely prone to shift out into the lane of other horsey's. On this one, they spin around the track, tryin hard to compete w/brethren Wooden Wand, Matt Valentine & even Charalambides, but the driver's tipped outta his sulky & they've tailed off, another goner,yet again. Why I keep comin back is one of life's lesser mysteries. Maybe I've just a masochist for bein underwhelmed. If that's the case, then JOMF have never let me down. If your a discerning listener w/15-20$ burnin a hole in your pocket then I am here to tell you that this pony's a bust. If however, you are a connoisseur & collector of all things New, Weird & American, then how could this platter of yawn-gum NOT possess the flavor's of an essential chew? Essentially speaking (of course). By all means, chaw away! Be careful to mind the bit's of corn though. They've been elsewhere.

This Ain't No Homo Picnic.....Clockcleaner's 'Missing Dick/By The Door' 7"

According to the history books adorning the shelves in my Kung Fu library, the Hardcore movement (proper) went up it's own ass real quick. It was a coast to coast bacterial breeding ground for doof's 'n load's alike. Once, that was a good thing, but when the preachin started & commandments were written, it was time to check out. I mean, when a label like Revelation becomes IT w/their patented brand of suburbacore, you gotta come to the sad realization it ain't about the "freshness" of the music anymore. But I was gone long before then. Personally, I always went for the bands that were less concerned about speed &/or point of view & more into wreckin 'n rebuildin their sound. Some scribes called it Artcore & there was bands that were outstanding provocateurs of this idiom, deliverin bucketloads've bodacious sonic sputter. The (early) Butthole Surfers was one. Pilgrim State, Kor-Phu, Chemotherapy, Mecht Mensch, Spike In Vain...their all at the top of the list too. They blurred a lotta lines, used delays, feedback & all sorts of gadgets to fuck w/heads 'n sounds, creatin great walls of skree & glee that were championed by the phantom few. The intention might've been Hardcore, but what got delivered was greater & more complicated than that. Clockcleaner are a contemporary (& local) band that subscribe to that same all-but-lost damagery. The science is a little more advanced in their attack but if I stand far enough away from the speakers, it sounds like it could be, ya know, almost 1982 ('83 at the latest). This new 7" by'em is a good place to start. The sustained tension that the rhythm section builds is superb 'n stuccoed over that is mounds of lush psychosis whipped up by stinging guitar, vocal scrunch & extraneous add on fuckery that gives it a singular edge.It ain't no New Weird America, ain't no Noise Underground, ain't no none of that. They ain't got no name yet for what Clockcleaner's up to. No good name anyway. Dimmer bulbs & flatter feet have opined about'em being nothin more than an extension of 90's noise rock bands. Wow. Hey, I only got two cents invested so all's I'm gonna say is that this record woulda sounded perfect on the Special Forces label, sandwiched in between L-7 & Blight. And not (just) because of the Crucifucks cover either. If you can't unscramble the code, that's okay. You weren't meant to. To everyone else, set coordinates for http://www.hitdatrecords.com/ & I'm over 'n out. Roger that!

Never A Lip Is Curved With Pain That Can't Be Kissed Into Smiles Again.....Antennas Erupt's 'Magical Energy' LP

Friends, let me tell you, it has been many moons since I walkum through the valley of contemporary Free Music. At one time I was a fan, a collector, a regular goddamn patron even. We could wear out many miles of moccasin leather traipsing around the reservation while discussing my ambivalence, but somewhere between the tight assed sterility of Ken Vandermark (for instance) & the nincompoop "improv" so rampant in New Weird America I screamed "ENOUGH", cancelled my subscription & crawled under a rock. I'd had it, didn't want to know. People were tellin me all the time to read WIRE but when I'd ask them what a book about John Belushi had to do w/anything they'd look at me like I was an idiot! Hey I took a break, believe me, it coulda been worse. I could've mistaken the hubcap in my yard for an instrument & recorded a limited edition tape w/it. Leveler heads prevailed there. Your welcome.
But let's not cast stones. Yet. Recently I made the aquaintance of some interesting players that made me feel like a stupe for walkin away in a huff. Nmperign are astounding & if anyone could make a hubcap tape sound interesting-if not downright amazing-it'd be Chris Corsano. But that's hardly a suprise. The lp that caught me off guard was called 'Magical Energy' from an outfit called Antennas Erupt outta Sacramento, CA. Released on the great S-S label, I figured I was in for some off kilter, punk damaged tunery, so when the saxophone's marched outta the speakers like a Bert Wilson/Sonny Simmons cavalry charge, I was momentarily stunned. Composure was soon regained & I listened w/heart palpitating glee as these guys threw the wool around. They possess all the pluck & power associated w/the heavies on the coveted (special) initial's label's, growl w/the ferocity of the Center Of The World brigade & punch it out in the grand tradition of West Coast improvisors from Byron Allen to Smiley Winters, Glenn Spearman & beyond. The only thing missing is a Rick Ballard Imports sticker on the back of the jacket. Maybe next time. A really great lp-devoid of endowments & irony-by some guy's that just plain GET IT. Thanks to Scott Soriano for gettin me back in the mix. Who knows, I may even resubscribe.
('Magical Energy' is available via http://www.s-srecords.com/)