Neutral Spirits

Loyal readers will note that some time has passed since my last batch of postings. But I really have an excuse this time that doesn’t involve my laziness. Just read below and I think you’ll get a sense of the shit I’ve been doing and why blogs have to go on the back burner. This will all seem like bullshit, but I guarantee this all happened (honest injun). All the following documents have yet to be declassified, so keep it under your hat.

The KC Report.

Sir,

It’s over two weeks since I have been able to report. I have infiltrated the designated group. They clearly are the future leaders of industry, politicians, those in the know. They are young and good looking. They jog. I smoke. I wear white pants and paisley ties. They wear khakis and stripped ties. They compliment me on my tattoos and clothing, yet they seem unfamiliar with the style (note: tell Deborah in the costume department to investigate this further). When they jog by, they affably grin at me. I nod. And smoke. The disguise unit must really be performing well since they believe me to be near their approximate age. Little do they know I was born in the same decade as their parents. I accidently let my age slip. Rookie mistake. Yet they didn’t believe me so I think my cover is secure. Walking around town today to get a sense of the environment. I was stopped by some derelict bridge dwellers sipping his malt liquor. I assumed he wanted money. Here’s the dialog: He: “Hey.” Me: “What is it?” Him: “I was just wondering if you’re okay. You look sad.” Me: “That’s how I always look.” I’m starting to get paranoid. I think they may be on to me. I see a leaf on the sidewalk and think it’s a dead bird. Or that it’s concealing a dead bird. I twist my ankles avoiding them. And an old lady laughs at me. Sir, I have sent my last seven reports to the given address and I haven’t received any responses. I am beginning to believe that the relocation initiative may have been enacted and I have yet to be apprised of the situation. I am cut off. I haven’t heard from Central in over a month. I am beginning to feel that I am on my own. If someone receives this document, please establish the extraction protocol. I am alone.

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Contaminators-LP & 7"s

A few years ago, I think the bros over at terminal boredom (is that still going on?) pumped this up. The 7" slays. The lp is solid too. It's hot and gross and it's one of those times you might just want to take a hot shot and listen to some skag rock played by some creeps that will probably mug you and rape your dog. Actually, they all seem like nice gents but they play some rock in the mode of Johnny Thunders and seriously fucked individuals. I doubt they are of that sort, but they seem to walk it like they talk it. So maybe they're the new Steely Dan. I don't know. You don't either. Listen to "Drugs" or "Ain't so Fun" and tell me that snottiness doesn't mean something to you; I'll tell you you never punched anyone in the face, or broke a window for fun, or skated with the hope of breaking your neck, or taking far too many drugs when know you really should take ten times more (if that makes sense). Pure modern pop.

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Zakary Thaks-Form the Habit

Ugh...more Texas music. I hate the state but I love their bands. What a conflict. Well, these garage goons are probably most known for their nuggets cut "Bad Girl." What a romper that one is. Some real punk music about 11 years before people were bandying about that term. Really, give it a spin and tell me otherwise. It makes me bounce off the walls like my insane cat (double jumps and all). I think if I was living in Texas and had a bowl cut, I'd probably use this as the soundtrack to beat up hicks with big belt buckles. Oh, wait those people drive around with gun racks in their cars, right? Maybe I'd just scowl at them and mutter something under my breathe instead. They shoot humans, don't they? Texas, Texas, Texas I will never understand you.

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The Drags-45x3

I lived in Albuquerque for some length of time, and upon departure, I swore never to return. My parents have threatened several times to relocate to the desert and I made it evident that I would never visit. Yet, now I find myself applying for two positions back in the land of enchantment. That's what happens when you get old and want to move and nothing is available. While I was there, I saw several great shows, but not one decent local band. And that is because I never had the chance to see this group, as I believe they moved away right before I got there. A pity really, as they are probably my favorite group from that whole 90s garage revival. At the time, I found most of it to be pretty redundant, and nostalgia was never my bag, but these guys (and girl) just played some seriously good rock. Perfect for your upcoming weekend drinkathon.

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The Third Bardo-E.P.

There seems to be at least a few psych heads trolling the cosmic spaceways that download from this blog. And I've been a little lax in delivering the psychedelic goodies lately. Time to rectify that error with this classic. This little e.p. comes with a dirty sneer. It's not some hand holding, flower sniffing psych. This is much more garagey and punk than your free loving, kaftan & loon pants clad nonsense. For those of you who believe the saying "hippies is punks" then this is for you.

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The Dwarves-Horror Stories

I know most people prefer the Dwarves' skag rock, but I like to look back to when this young Chicago band was just getting going (yes, they're from Chicago, not San Francisco). Definitely has the whole 60s garage rock thing going on, but it's slathered in a sheet of filth and violence. Even though the dreaded harmonica makes an appearance (one of the worst instruments ever) this solid romper is not hindered by it's obnoxious sounds. This sounds pretty different from what they're most known for, but it's great nonetheless. Take their advice and be a caveman.

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The Touched

Oh no. Only tiny pictures can be found. And I'm definitely too lazy to scan them in. But I think we'll live. Well, with the resurrection of the godly Jesus Lizard, we might not need the Touched anymore, seeing as they seemed to emerge from the toxic sperm/sweat/oil pool that birthed J.L. But that might not be fair, since they temper their sound with some 70s Clevo punk. Raw rawk from Louisville (Lewis-ville now being the preferred pronunciation over the standard and overly affected Lurvul) that continues to please. C'mon, what's more loving than a song like "Baby's not a Whore"? Maybe they should play that at weddings. Possibly a few funerals too.

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Grateful Dead-Mountains of the Moon

Yeah, yeah...I'm aware that every weird beard is now coming out of the wood work proclaiming their love for the Dead. But there's still plenty of willfully ignorant sods that just refuse to acknowledge that this band rules. Sonic Youth, any freak-folk rigmarole, damaged acidheads, are all ripping this band off and selling it to pitchfork arse licks as something new. So if you've heard them and dislike them, I'd still suggest giving this bootleg a listen. There's some outtakes from the magnificent Aoxomoxoa album, including The Barb Wire Whipping Party. If you haven't heard this before you'll never guess it's the Dead. Sounds more like some cavemen goosestepping on their way to murder a clown. And there's also some early Dead, when they were still known as the Warlocks, mixed in to up the garage factor. Grow up and give this a listen.

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The Weeds

This one is for Ryan. This is Fred Cole's first band before a string of equally great ones (Zipper, King Bee, The Rats, Western Front, Range Rats, Dead Moon, Pierced Arrows). Pretty much everything he's done is worth checking out. This is a garage rock classic that seems as relevant now as it 43 years ago. The band later adopted the much lamer name The Lollipop Shoppe at the behest of their manager but still continued to rock. Fred also has a super cool face tattoo.

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The Smashchords-S/T 12"

This is one of those albums that you read about and then just can't find, but you always wonder what it's going to sound like. I remember reading about this in Forced Exposure a long time ago, but never met anyone who had even heard of them. Basically, it's a two piece. But unlike the trendy bass/drum combo, this is just 2 guitars. There's no vocals. There's no drums, but this is still a mighty racket. It's 28 years old, but sounds like it could have been recorded recently. Well, maybe not since people don't try things this adventurous anymore.

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