I don't think I can no longer keep makin excuses why this column ain't more frequent, suffice to say that anybody readin the thing for a while knows I got many pokers in the fire. Actually had to use one the other day too. This box of "silk" I'd been expectin from Thailand had gone missin (via UPS) & nobody seemed to know or care as to it's whereabouts. The driver on my route's a jolly ol' thing, a portly blonde woman who I'd say is mid 30's easy. Doesn't give a SHIT neither. She'd leave stuff out on the step, make up signatures for things what ain't been delivered, all the time crowin about how she's Union & let's just see someone try & fire her. Most times I could give a pig's dick about her cavalier behavior, but I needed this "silk" to "weave" into "scarves" to drum up some walkin around money. Ms. UPS though, she couldn't be bothered. When I asked if she could trace it, she put on airs & talked to me like I was a retard. So I figured I'd fix her wagon, but good. I ordered me some shoes off Zappos & the next day when she came to deliver'em, MG grabbed her from behind the door, threw her left arm up the middle of her back & forced walked her down the basement where I had brandin iron heatin up in my impromptu 'fireplace".We got her trussed up & truth be told, I think she was actually gettin a little freaked. I seen a stain form around the crotch of them brown shorts. She started to cry & ask for her mommy & then she seen me comin w/that red-hot rod (which was almost white by this point) & let out one helluva scream! Good thing it was midday or else she've woke up the whole neighborhood. She got to squirmin & sweatin as I moved the brand closer to her porcine skin. Just before impact I popped the question about my box, she gave it up w/o a peep of sass. MG dug it out, brought it back, then we put it on the "sewing machine" to make sure it weren't short on the "measurement". Once we was square, I let her loose, showed her my custom made Beretta pistol (w/built in silencer) & whispered "have a nice day" in her right ear as I led her out to the truck. Couple days later we had a new driver. His name's Donny & you couldn't ask for a more hospitable fella. I asked him how he come by this route & he laughed. Said the previous driver had come in & told some crazy story about bein tortured, a box of pure opium & how she was almost branded then shot. She'd pissed herself, was shakin & babblin out of control. Said they thought she was havin a nervous breakdown, so's they went & had her sent to some rehab facility. Straightjacket, Thorazine, the whole bit! By the time he got to the end we was both laughin hysterically. We agreed all women is nuts & that drivin a brown stepvan dressed in a matchin short-set deliverin boxes all over creation was a man's job anyways. He's got a good attitude too, that Donny. Don't ask no questions, does his job & moves on. When I ask him how it's goin he always smiles & says "just another day in paradise, Mr. Woodbe". If there's a moral to be found in this story, I reckon it's don't kid a kidder. Jokes kill. Don't believe me, talk to General Santa Anna. If he hadn't been so "funny" down there to the Alamo, we wouldn't have no California now for Arnold Swarztnegger to be Governor of. Put that in your pipe & smoke it, you damn history know-it-alls.
But enough of my lecturin, how 'bout some record writin?
By now I'm sure every Psych-Pup down to the runtiest runt has had a chance to overindulge their appetite for bliss by suckin on one (or all) of the 5 milkly teats that is the new Wooden Shjips release on Holy Mountain. One by one everything they's done up to it was better than the last, so that this s/t full length blooms
like a desert oasis of mescaline cacti comes as a suprise to who? They also seem to tap everyone from Echo & The Bunnymen to Les Rallizes Denudes in the psychedelic mist & even the most wizened prospector can be made to feel like they's experiencin a mental shakedown at the hands of Lelan Rogers. Or at the very least, catchin a contact buzz off the vile, vile grass once huffed by Red Krayola. No, that this WS lp is a solid hardly comes as a suprise. If your lookin to get shook up, go get this new one on Holy Mountain by a Jap trio called Ainotamenishis. From Gunjogacrayon up to.....still.......the Japanese have had the most incredible knack for twistin 'n fusin punk, post & psychedelic rock into scrambled, almost sci-fi platters of apocalyptic euphoria. This one from Ainotamenishis (pronounced; Ainotamenishis) is but another frenzied, Toho-like monstrocity here to lay waste & wreak havoc on the sonic landscape. The name of some previous jabberers & pummelers of the cause have been bandied about elsewhere, but for me I was sold the second the needle locked into the 1st track ('Theme') & then preceeded to dust my nodes like Red Transistor's 'Not Bite' played (LOUDLY) at 16rpm. And it just gets better the more you burrow in. I guess this was previously available as a cdr from the band (in a miniscule edition), so referrin to this as one of the top reissues of the year might be splittin hairs, it wouldn't be hyperbole or an exaggeration. Just amazin. And to think I'd thought the curtain had been drawn a few yrs back in the land of the rising sun. But I was sufferin from a case of 'Premature Vagueness' & Ainotamenishis rightfully called me on it. Released in a one time viny-only run of 500, this one'll definitely be in my top whatever come end've 2007, find out more from http://www.holymountain.com/ & http://www.midheaven.com/
When I opened the box for this 'Side Three Of The Moon' lp by an outfit called The Company I immediately got to thinkin it was probably some posthumous Derek Bailey recordings or somethin to that ilk. But then I got to spinnin it & readin the insert so (of course) I come to find out it's the mercurial goodness of none other than Ben Wallers & someone called Amir Shoat. Naturally it's got plenty of Rebel-styled lascivious wit 'n wisdom in place as well as tipped to the top w/playful synth/key snakery bustin out all over. There's also a perfect lost-in-time quality workin here, like if PIL's 'Fodderstomp' had been remade into a Crawling Chaos lp. Or, you could say this might also function as audio for a porn-vid of Bo Derek gettin a good hard shaggin from Beetle Bailey across the back of a naugahide couch after each of them have ingested a noseful of an unspecified Chinese aphrodisiacal powder then yodelin like insatiable Teletubbies. But Derek Bailey it most certainly AIN'T! Soothe your curious mind via; difficultlifeinmentaljailrecords@yahoo.com or www.myspace.com/difficultlifeinmentaljailrecords
'Lonesome Drifter' might be the 4th release from Mammal but it's my 1st encounter & in a way, I'm glad it's here where's we made our aquaintance. Listenin to a previous release just the other night I was reminded of how hard it was to jumpstart that ol' lawn mower I had down to Paducah, not to mention conjurin up memories of how much I hate mowin to begin with. I mean, it could just as well have been anything outta the Ann Arbor/East Lansing axis. And anything's just another word for nothin left to do. So the 'brooding, psychedelic, loner blues', the 'new chapter in the story of Mammal' (alls his words) I found excitin. Here's a guy what want's to step it up, let the grimness "blossom" if you will. Not that Mammal won't harsh your mellow, no worries there. Recorded over a 6 month span of total isolation, Lonesome Drifter is simultaneously a soundtrack & requiem to the miasmic, industrial dischord of Detroit. The gloom this exudes is palapable. The compositions, langourous & epic. If Tyvek imbues a bizarro Keats-like lyricism in their harangue of the city's never ending blight, then Mammal is (ditto) Coleridge & 'Lonesome Drifer' his 'Christabel'. If your riflin through them cargo short looks for Cliff Notes, how about this; on the surface there's a heaviness that thuds Om-like (minus the "stoner metaphysic's") on here; both bands know how to grind bones, but in the end it comes down to desert vs. desert. Om seem complacent in their environment, Mammal on the other hand, would like to get-the-fuck OUT of his. But again, this is a requiem & a most compelling one at that. Truely GREAT double lp's are few & far between & from an all-hope-is-lost perspective, I'd say 'Lonesome Drifter' is right up there w/'This Skin Is Rust' by Twenty-Six what come out 10 (or so) yrs ago (on Bobby J.) & still hold's up to this day. True, the melancholia on this is way more scorched, but there's that...tranquility... in the way Mammal prophecises 'the end'. The more I think about it, think about when "it" comes, ain't that's what we's all want, in the end? I don't know where he's goin after this, but Mammal done blasted a grand slam on 'Lonesome Drifer' so if this IS it, he's goin out on top. Check out the show by goin to; www.animaldisguise.com/mammal
A couple little fella's what's got it goin on come my way recently too. Los Llamarada's follow up to their delectable debut lp (The Exploding Now') is a solid 2 banger out now on the S-S label. The a-side ('The Very Next Moment') is a fried chizzler that conjures up every Punk deviant from the Germs to Brainbombs while the flip is a cover of the Brenda Lee classic 'I'm Sorry' & in their futurisic attempt to convey a somnombulistic redo, they have effectively butchered it into the summer-bummer, goodbye hit for the twilight's last gleamin of 2007. Get it from; http://www.s-srecords.com/
Another label what keeps deliverin the goods is HoZac. One what I got is from an outfit called White Savage & their 7" of punk hysteria is indeed estimable. They open w/an original called 'Destroy Your Style' that ably recalls the tribal chaos of early Virgin Prunes while the closer is a cover of Teenage Jesus & The Jerks ('Orphans') that they chew off at the knees like a rabid cat blottered on scratch acid. These Hozac releases ain't in print for no more than a minute, so zoom over to www.myspace.com/horizontalaction
& see's if you's got a chance.
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