Saturday, January 28, 2012

Culturcide-Tacky Souvenirs of Pre-Revolutionary America

They’re called a punk rock band but I’m not too sure if everyone else out there considers singing over a Bruce Springsteen record (you can still hear the boss (burn in hell Clarence Clemons with your shitty saxophone)) to be punk rock. All those “classic” 80s artists get ridiculed, and I’m all for it. It’s definitely an artifact of the times. And those times were pretty shitty too (in case you’re too young to remember). This won't make much sense to you if you were born after 1982. But then, you won't make much sense to me if you were born after that date. Fuck you Ronald Reagan.

Here (Reup 6/6/12)

Brother Ah-Sound Awareness

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Definitely not a yawn, but rather a climactic sigh of pleasure that you will feel when these cosmic tones soothe your soul.

Link Removed

Ville Moskiito-Retkikertomuksia

I’m too old to fuck around with the internet and figure out what this is all about. My knowledge of Scandinavian languages is pretty shit, but I figure this to be Finnish. Have no clue if that’s right though. So if you’re the type of person who trolls blogs voice little corrections to my posts, why not reinsert your main into your mum’s cunny (guess who’s read Pepys too) and leave the writing to the drunken losers. The only thing lamer than my bullshit ecrits is those who want to actually correct them. I think reading more than one of my posts will surely convince you that I spend the minimum amount of time drafting these shit stains. I don’t even fucking edit them let alone fact check. So if I sez this is a mantis dragging its rigid appendages across some Venusian stringed instrument, darling, you really don’t need to tell me it was made on Jupiter.

Here (Reup 6/6/12)

Angelic Upstarts-Teenage Warning

Feeling pissed and sick? I’m no doomsday prophet or anything but it’s hard to keep your head up when you’re constantly getting shit on. Polling the hand full of friends I still have left on this planet (family doesn’t count in these stats), the general sentiment seems to be, at best despondence, and more frequently, all out hatred of a nihilistic sort. Now, as bleak as I can be, I suppose I have this kind of Yellow Kid ignorance that lets me blissfully float through the mire until I reach my isolation chamber and can hibernate with a few films for the evening. Nevertheless, I experience all of the above feelings simultaneously and that’s why an album like this is something that is cherished rather than risible. The angst isn’t canned like the recent vintage. You can be a dick and force this into a genre and dismiss it with the drop of a pube, but that’s facile and lazy. You don’t have to be Leonard Cohen to write about frustration.

Here (Reup 6/6/12)

The Spinanes-Imp Years

There’s been numerous 90s posts lately and plenty of positive responses so I’ll toss another log onto the fire and let that fucker burn for a few moments longer. This band has connections with a million other things and I don’t plan on listing them since this is best listened to without those preconceptions that have the potential to diminish the listening experience. Part of me just wanted to watch Naked again for the millionth time (one of my top 3 films for cert) but then I thought I might as well have one of those rare turns of kindness and give something that will definitely give to you. You know what I mean? If not then give it a listen and I think you’ll see.

Here (Reup 6/6/12)

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Th'Faith Healers-Imaginary Friend

There must be something wrong because now I have a feeling of writing even more. Was it the long break? Is it the spirit of Christ compelling me? Perhaps it’s Casper the friendly ghost? Most likely it’s that these idle hands need something to do, and masturbation becomes tedious after the 7th or 8th time. So that just means I might as well idle away the hours writing more drivel for people who have the time to waste reading it. Whatever the reason maybe, I might as well up this one. Shoegaze is still being ripped off by people and I doubt those copious royalty checks are finding their way towards this band. They should be. A perennial dollar bin find, this album still can show the young turks a thing or two. I don’t believe there’s a pop band out there now with the sack to close out the album with a 40 minute track. No wait, I take that back. Don’t prove me wrong, but do shut up.

Here (Reup 6/6/12)

Roland Young-Isophonic Boogie Woogie

This one will pair nicely with that Philip Corner I posted earlier. Yes it is jazz, but white people need not fear it. And it is weird in a sense. Not weird for weirdness sake as some jazz can become, but weird in the way that it creates unexpected moments that’ll catch you off guard. That might be a bad thing if you’re a rapist or a dog trainer or something, but as a music fan that seems to be those rare moments of joy. I wouldn’t say this is an easy album, but at the same time, I can see enthusiasts of all sorts of music relishing in Young’s heady brew.

Here (Reup 6/6/12)

Velvet Cacoon-Genevieve

I know some internet pals live in Portland. And I have physical friends that live there as well. Regardless, I fucking hate Portland. Never once did I get more cockeyed looks and rude comments than in that city. Yes, the beer and food are both plentiful and delicious. Many good record & book shops are to be found. And I seemed to fall in love with a new girl at every corner I turned. Still, the people there are terrible. I’m guessing there’s a few people who’d like to fight me over these words. Fuck you. My scrawny Mid-Western ass with definitely win. I’ll even buy you a plane ticket down here. Now, setting all geographic animosities aside, I will say that this band , who unfortunately resides in that most pretentious of cities, is actually worth the listen. I know there was all this mystery and controversy surrounding this band but I could really give a fig about that. And speaking of figs, I had some delicious ricotta and candied fig ice cream today. Yummy.

Here (Reuped 6/6/12)

Tony, Caro and John-All on the First Day

I’m sure that cooler blogs than mine have posted this plenty, but my shoddy memory doesn’t bring any of them to mind at the moment, so I say it’s fair game. And I don’t even know what the etiquette is anyways. I just know that this is a good un and should be heard by more. If that means that someone’s beard gets twisted then so be it. And fuck, this reissue’s been around for a decade or so. You should have it by now. But if you don’t, well then, here’s you’re chance. British folk that is perfect for these fucked up January days that reach mid 60s when it should be about 10. Oh well, that just means I get to stroll around the Herman Moore sculpture garden by myself and glower and young couples in love. This snow better start up soon.

Here (Reuped 6/6/12)

The Amps-Pacer

Okay, I doubt many will cop to the fact that most of the time, this is a better all around listen than all your beloved Pixies records. See, I love 60s girl group sound. Not that bullshit that kids like at the moment (next year I predict cod piece rock will hold that position) but the real deal. Now, I can make some stupid pun but will hold back for the moment. But yes, this is the Deal sisters whom we all know by now. But I’ll be damned (okay, I probably am already) if this doesn’t top the slag heap of contempo bands that sound like note for note copies of this album. Why are you all so terrible and this band is so good? Go back to knitting owls or whatever it the fuck it was you used to do before you picked up a guitar.

Here (Reuped 6/6/12)

Cardiac Arrest-The Obvious Identity

Cardiacs love is strong with the readership it seems as every entry into their catalogue is heavily downloaded by you, the reader. Might as well go back to the time before they were the Cardiacs and were known as the much more descriptive Cardiac Arrest. Different name, same band. Get it.

Here  (Reup 6/6/12)

The Desperate Bicycles-Remorse Code

The British, D.I.Y., cassette culture, messthetics, bed sit recordings, whathaveyou has always been some of my most loved music. It’s probably because it reminds me about all that music can potentially be about. Spontaneous, inept, jovial, challenging, insightful, inquisitive. Basically, the exact opposite of the drang of repetition and pastiche (at best) or plagiarism (what it actually is) that we hear these days. And these guys are definitely some of the old masters of that style. They still have the ability to get excited about things when excitement is at an all time low in my life. The only thing I was excited about this last year was buying a Burberry trench coat and hording mid century modern furniture. Oh, and that yoyo I got for Christmas was pretty exciting too since I now have a new hobby.

Here  (Reuped 6/7/12)

The Second Coming-The Return E.P.

Well friends, it’s been some time, hasn’t it. I figure I should pull a Jesus and bring this shit back from the crypt. Ugh, do I need to fill you in on all the bullshit that’s been going on? It’s all rather pointless as usual. I’ve had a student murdered, the standard disappoints, more heart break…you know, the stuff that makes life oh so swell. But what the hell, I’ve gotten more followers from keeping my fingers still then when I was posting on a regimen. Several nice comments and e-mails have livened up my spirits a bit so I might as well get something out before I fall back through some rabbit hole. Naturally, I might as well herald my return with this blatantly titled release. And thinking of that Jesus analogy I just threw out there leads me to think on the fact that we both have beards, we both look really gay, we both will probably never get laid again. Hmm…uncanny. So yeah, the 7”. Right. Lovely, dark stuff. But did you think I was going to post something cheery?

Here (Reuped 6/7/12)

Sproton Layer-With Magnetic Fields Disrupted

Another in the before they were famous category. Pre-Mission of Burma (still destroys bands a quarter of their age) Michigan psych. It’s funny to see Roger Miller looking so young. It’s a pleasure to hear him destroy minds. This isn’t anywhere in the same zip code as Burma, but that doesn’t imply suckitude. One of the wise things Mike Watt did was to finally get this out to the public. Definitely wiser than having Eddie Vedder sing on his album. “Sister Regis” always seems to find its way on to my mix tapes for some reason.

Here (Reuped 6/7/12)

Juan de la Cruz-Shake Your Brain

Leaving you feel like you just got kicked in the dick comes this release from a gang of Filipino hard rockers. For a country not really known for their rocking ways, this album certainly smokes. Wally Gonzales’s guitar sobs uncontrollably rather than pussily weeping gently. Yikes, it’s stuff like this that makes me feel like I should start doing drugs again. Or at the very least, get into some bar fight. Listen to “I Wanna Say Yeah” and just try to resist the urge to take out one of those stupids who keep interfering in your life. If that fancy doesn’t strike you, then brother you are a better man than I (but I suppose that’s already obvious).

Here (Reuped 6/7/12)

The Mekons-The Quality of Mercy is Not Strnen

Damn, these motherfuckers be underrated. Why, dear lord, why? All partiality aside (These guys are technically based out of Chicago, I suppose) if these guys pulled a Houdini early in the game they’d be getting the same royal blowjob technique offered to the likes of Gang of Four (overrated). Instead, they kept fighting the good fight, evolving, and putting limp dicks in their place. Their back catalogue is all over the place, as it should be. Fuckos take note. If you make a decent album, please do not continue to remake it for decades. I heard it the first time. It was fine. Now that my beard is full of grey hairs you should have overdosed or something by now instead of cranking out the same song. Learn your lesson from this lot.

Here (Reuped 6/7/12)

Organisation-Tone Float

Kraftwerk can do no wrong in my book. Okay, maybe there was a few missteps (here’s looking at Electric Café kid) but I remember hearing this troupe in my youth and having my ass handed to me out of shock. Their sound seemed to come out of nowhere and startled my infantile ear holes in a way that made me wish I was made out of metal. And wouldn’t everything be so much better if that dream were actualized? Admittedly, it wasn’t until I was older that I became aware of this pre-Kraftwerk recording. It’s not the Holy Grail or anything, but it does give you insight into where these men-machines came from. And hey, Electric Café wasn’t all that bad.

Here (Reuped 6/8/12)

Blue Sun

More NWW list business to attend to. A lesser known and heralded work on that daunting list of plenty of overratedness. These Danes can get plenty cheesy, but there’s still some good moments to be found, like in the mellow improv of their eponymous cut. I dunno, this one seems more for the collectors then the dilettantes. Still, I’ll stand by track two.

Here (Reuped 6/8/12)

Steeleye Span-Below the Salt

People always criticize this band, but if you’ve learned anything from reading this blog, people are garbage with shitty taste anyways. Everyone says Fairport Convention or the Pentangle are better, but that doesn’t mean that Steeleye doesn’t rule as well. It’s not a competition nitwits. Figure it out. I know all the clowns these days slag on them because they had some marginal success and were able to release quite a few albums. And after all these years, you idiots still want to argue about who is better? Fuckhead, you weren’t even alive when these were released. Now go listen to your Bon Iver or whatever shit you’re told to listen to.

Here (Reuped 6/8/12)

The Attack-The Complete Recordings from 1967-68

Oh, you should be so fortunate as to have all these recordings compiled for you in one handy zip file. Not only did Davey O’List have his finger in this pie, but guitar demigod John DuCann was also fucking around the kitchen while it was baked. Talk about a band that should have but didn’t. That’s these fellas. Fuzzy pop/modish rockers/psychish pirouettes, all that jazz. This album will end too soon for all but the daftest listener.

Here (Reuped 6/8/12)

Phillip Corner-3 Pieces for Gamelan Ensemble

When not appearing as a phony Korean, Philip Corner makes music. He does other things I’m sure. Eating sandwiches, folding bed sheets, crinkling the toothpaste tube down to the very bit of it to catch the final remains are all activities that Corner participates in. But seeing as this is a music blog/crybaby journal I’ll focus on the music (more on the crying later). The gamelon is one of my favorite instruments, and should be one of yours as well. Maybe why it is so sweet sounding is because it’s large and expensive, thus preventing an army of hipster dorkuses from slathering it on all their releases. Unlike the unfortunately ubiquitous ukulele (check out those U’s), the gamelon is something that is somehow under used. So any chance you get to hear them should be taken as a treat you little selfish child.

Here (Reuped 6/8/12)