Being that I'm just about done with the human race (thanks for the heartache, it was pretty funny) this is the only way I want to hear from people. Unless your voice sounds like a some early synthesizer than keep your trap shut. You'll probably either end up hurting me or pissing me off (the only two feelings I am still capable of feeling). In a world where every fucking pop song is using some sort of voice alteration this probably seems old hat. Sometimes electric friends are better than those made of flesh.
There once was a time when my life seemed full of stories. Not that I was ever the prolific raconteur, but that there were points of interest that dappled my day. Now routine and listlessness have dulled my senses so that the fella walking down my block carrying a hatchet doesn't even seem to pique my interest (that actually happened). Maybe it's that little surprises me anymore, but it's most likely that I don't even care. Even my grandmother told me I'm boring. So there's no need to explain the saga of this most influential band. Dead Boys, Pere Ubu you all know it. Punk before punk. Yes that too. But fuck...it's Peter Laughner so that means it's mandatory (if you're missing that reference you're missing much more).
I spent the majority of my youth as well as my twenties fearing I would go insane. I have a bi-polar uncle and a schizophrenic aunt (just one side of my lovely genetic inheritance) so hitting my thirties was a massive relief. And passed that age, I feel this weird return to that fear. Some late creeping psychosis? Perhaps. But I just don't understand how things function anymore. I mean I get general principles but I feel like I was kept in some mid-Victorian cocoon for over a century until I was somehow extracted yet I retained the mentality and perspectives of the time. And maybe that is the signal of insanity, right? When you become so detached from the world you live in then something must be amiss. Yet there are these artifacts, like this album, that do not seem to follow the strictures of the time and tap into something much more elemental. Listening to this I can only feel like I was smoking hash in some Martian-Arabic cafe in a liminal state that exists in some non-linear plane of existence. And that doesn't even make sense. So maybe this is the exercise that lays bare my fears of mental illness for once. I dunno, listen to this and tell me where this takes you. It's a sort of sonic Rorschach I suppose. But however the ears receive it, I doubt they will be disappointed.
My mouth is still tingling from that pepper spray spritzing I received earlier in the day and I'll admit it's a bit enjoyable. But numbness, whether it be in the mouth or the soul, comes with the territory when teaching in my school. And numb is actually the type of non-feeling I wish I could only experience in this topsy-turvy mess of a week. Who thought stasis would ever be so desirable? I'm thinking about digging a ditch and bedding down there for a while. And as the dirt pillow absorbs my tears I'll think of this gloomy antipodean curiosity. Most will hate this but most people hate me, so why should I bother trying to please everyone/anyone? Snail paced doom that is surprisingly meditative an soothing. The perfect score to that final relaxation.
Perhaps the lumbering giant in a catalogue deep enough to drown molasses. I admit my bias here in that I love both Amon Duul and Amon Duul II to an unhealthy degree. And even with my rose colored glasses on, this album still took a while to grow on me. Where is that thuggish caveman tude that blessed the chaos of mach I? The more stream lined mind fuckery of there early releases doesn't seem to be as prevalent on initial listen, but dig, dig deep my friend. It shant take long since the lead track is already positioning you towards some outer recess that most dare not explore. Fuck those who claim this as their softening. Sure I still miss those elements already address, but if those ears are pricked they cannot deny the wigged out brilliance of this under rated classic.
So after a pretty good run of things mediafire decided to suspend my account. This is why the site is now riddled with dead links. I do not plan on re-upping them so don't bother asking. If a link dies, so be it. However, I will gladly try to fill requests assuming I have the album. Just leave a comment or send me an e-mail. It might just take some time though. And if any readers actually want to help out and provide links to replace the dead ones that would be great.
As far as the content goes there's no logic behind the selections. These are simply albums I enjoy and figure there's other weirdos out there somewhere who might as well. Basically, the site is here for me to complain about mundane things and ridicule my lame existence.