Violent Femmes - Violent Femmes

Real quick. In a hurry. wanted to get this up before I hit the hizzay because I've been more or less fixated with this record and its sound and its attitude going on a month now. In a world where all the newest and raddest is at my fingertips I gravitate back to that which was burned onto the cortex somewhere in junior high. And yes, the riff to "Blister in the Sun" is forever fixed in my finger memory.

When you sit down and listen there's something entirely unique going on here. It's a sinister, misunderstood, impatient and potentially psychotic Modern Lovers. And, like many I've referred to, this is their only record I listen to. Some groops only have one in them and they get the message across, leave their stain and perish into vapor. This is that. And it was an indelible, greasy stain, like Jheri curl on a linen shirt.

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Allmusic: One of the most distinctive records of the early alternative movement and an enduring cult classic, Violent Femmes weds the geeky, child-man persona of Jonathan Richman and the tense, jittery, hyperactive feel of new wave in an unlikely context: raw, amateurish acoustic folk-rock. The music also owes something to the Modern Lovers' minimalism, but powered by Brian Ritchie's busy acoustic bass riffing and the urgency and wild abandon of punk rock, the Femmes forged a sound all their own. Still, the main reason Violent Femmes became the preferred soundtrack for the lives of many an angst-ridden teenager is lead singer and songwriter Gordon Gano. Naive and childish one minute, bitterly frustrated and rebellious the next, Gano's vocals perfectly captured the contradictions of adolescence and the difficulties of making the transition to adulthood. Clever lyrical flourishes didn't hurt either; while "Blister In the Sun" has deservedly become a standard, "Kiss Off"'s chant-along "count-up" section, "Add It Up"'s escalating "Why can't I get just one..." couplets, and "Gimme the Car"'s profanity-obscuring guitar bends ensured that Gano's intensely vulnerable confessions of despair and maladjustment came off as catchy and humorous as well. Even if the songwriting slips a bit on occasion, Gano's personality keeps the music engaging and compelling without overindulging in his seemingly willful naiveté. For the remainder of their career, the group would only approach this level in isolated moments.


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John Coltrane/Johnny Hartman - John Coltrane and Johnny Hartman

I doubt this one is necessary, but the disc was on in my car today and it's been stuck in my head, so here you go.

The smoothest silkiest record you're ever likely to hear.

From allmusic:

John Coltrane's matchup with singer Johnny Hartman, although quite unexpected, works extremely well. Hartman, who had not recorded since 1956, was in prime form on the six ballads, and his versions of "Lush Life" and "My One and Only Love" have never been topped. Coltrane's playing throughout the session is beautiful, sympathetic, and still exploratory; he sticks exclusively to tenor on the date. At only half an hour, one wishes there were twice as much music, but what is here is classic, essential for all jazz collections.

The sound is incredible, the performances subtle and impeccable, the mood ideal: with New Years Eve around the corner there is no better recording with which to slowdance with the one you love... or just fall in love.

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Various Artists - Sacred Steel Live

Just in time for Sunday! Just in time for the New Year!
I'm no church-going guy. Nope - won't find me in the pew. But if there was anything that could get me there it's this. If church was always like this, I'd find religion in a hurry.

From allmusic:

Incendiary would be one good word to describe this disc, which is one of those rare gems that come along every now and again that works on many different levels. It features various artists captured spreading their joy and faith with their passionate celebratory music, with the electric steel guitar being the dominant instrument in the music of these groups. This disc was recorded at two different House of God churches, a coffeehouse, and the Strawberry Spring Music Festival, and the sound quality is of the high quality that you have come to expect from Arhoolie. The pedal steel guitar is the king on this disc, yet in support of it the singing is equally as strong and unrestrained. Particularly notable is the inspired singing of Katie Jackson and Denise Brown. Then there is Ted Beard making his pedal steel mimic a train in appropriately enough "The Train" and the sharp and biting blues guitar of Phil Campbell stretching out on "Don't Let the Devil Ride." The whole disc from top to bottom is highlight after highlight.

The opening salvo, God is a Good God, fired by Katie Jackson and the Campbell Brothers is 8 minutes that starts off fast and never slows down. Wicked, spirited and furious, it will light a fire under anyone and have you speaking in tongues before it's over.

By the time you get to Hollering, you'll be a wreck - and you'll be saved.

Get your God on - This is the shit!

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Das Damen - Jupiter Eye

Das Damen could've been spectacular, like as big as Sonic Youth, if A) they weren't lazy and spent some real time mixing their records B) had a decent drummer and 3) let someone else sing.


Maybe what Das Damen should've been was a collection of songwriters for much better musicians. Like an indie rock Boyce & Hart.

This is my top Damen as they dispense with trying to be rock stars and show comfort with their flaws. In other words, all other recordings seem fairly self-conscious and cautious compared to this.

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Allmusic: Das Damen were one of the more metallic acts in the legendary SST stable, melding '60s psychedelia and heavy acid rock with the noisy, punk-derived alternative rock typical of the label. Instead of delving into screaming white noise, along the lines of labelmates Dinosaur Jr., Das Damen preferred warm, trippy, high-volume distortion. Their early material was given over to improvisational jamming, but as they developed their songwriting, they threw in more complex rhythms and time signature shifts. Taking their name from the German term for "ladies," Das Damen were formed in New York in 1984 by vocalist/guitarist Jim Walters, guitarist Alex Totino, bassist Phil Leopold Von Trapp, and drummer Lyle Hyser. The group released its six-song, self-titled debut EP in 1986 on Thurston Moore's Ecstatic Peace label; it was quickly picked up by SST, which was also Sonic Youth's label at the time.Das Damen's first full-length for SST was 1987's Jupiter Eye, a highly improvisational record that nodded to the spaced-out acid jams of the late '60s and early '70s. The follow-up, 1988's Triskaidekaphobe, was a more structured and melodic hard rock album, but its follow-up, the Marshmellow Conspiracy EP, achieved far more notoriety. One of the four tracks, "Song for Michael Jackson to $ell," was actually a straight-up cover of the Beatles' "Magical Mystery Tour," credited to the members of Das Damen to protest having to pay Jackson royalties (Jackson had just outbid Paul McCartney for the rights to the Beatles' entire catalog). Jackson's lawyers got wind of the stunt and ordered all copies of the EP (pressed on pink vinyl) removed from distributors' warehouses and destroyed. SST later reissued the EP in a three-song form, but the controversy helped spell the end of Das Damen's career with SST.The band moved on to the Minneapolis-based Twin/Tone label and released Mousetrap in 1989. Although it boasted more polished production, it failed to make any inroads at college radio. Das Damen recorded one further album, the 1990 live set Entertaining Friends, which was performed at CBGB's and released on the German label City Slang. In 1991, they moved to Sub Pop for a one-off single, "High Anxiety," but subsequently disbanded.


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João Gilberto - João Gilberto (1973)

Rocky says:

I have had about enough of tired holiday tuneage!

This is simply breathtaking, soothing, relaxing, and peaceful.

And, it sounds likes it's really really warm where he is...

Loronix says: One of the most difficult things I face when introducing Bossa Nova to new friends is to explain why João Gilberto is considered a genius. I know how hard it is to understand João Gilberto as a whole. Luiz Harding has providing us with some "basics", which is both the second João Gilberto album, and the third João Gilberto album released in 1960 and 1961 respectively, recently made available at Loronix.

This MASTERPIECE here was recorded over ten years after those two releases (if you agree that the albums recorded with Stan Getz for Verve are not João Gilberto solo LPs), but it seems that a century has passed; João Gilberto is at his peak, taking into the studio only his violao and a reduced percussion set.

João Gilberto's renditions of these ten songs are such like heaven on earth; take this album as something very special that will be with you for the rest of your life. I love this album and I'm now with a blend of two contradictory feelings, the happiness of showing to my friends and the disappointment of knowing that it is out of print again.

This is João Gilberto - João Gilberto (1973), for Polydor. It is one of best albums ever made available at this website and it is very hard for me to describe it. My apologies, I think is better stop here, please take it and listen to it with your heart, and with all the love you have for the music from Brazil.

Personnel:

João Gilberto (voz, violao)

Sonny Carr (percussion)

Tracks:
01 - Águas de Março (Tom Jobim)

02 - Undiú (João Gilberto)

03 - Na Baixa do Sapateiro (Ary Barroso)

04 - Avarandado (Caetano Veloso)

05 - Falsa Baiana (Geraldo Pereira)

06 - Eu Quero Um Samba (Haroldo Barbosa / Janet de Almeida)

07 - Eu Vim da Bahia (Gilberto Gil)

08 - Valsa (Como São Lindos os Youguis) (Bebel) (João Gilberto)

09 - É Preciso Perdoar (Carlos Coquejo / Alcyvando Luz)

10 - Izaura (Herivelto Martins / Roberto Roberti) - Special Guest: Miúcha

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Big Dipper - Heavens (plus Boo Boo)

It's was almost 20 years ago on a night very much like this, deep in middle America. Horrifically cold, drunk, underachieving, chain-smoking at this dive rock bar off the I-70, there Chunter and I sat as the only two before a butt-littered stage with a trio of pitchers. Big Dipper was here. From Boston. Not going to get too cold enough to keep us in the dorm this night. It was Big Dipper on stage there just for us. In fact we saw a number of shows like that. Where we the only two in this college town with any fuckin' taste?

So I owe Big Dipper a lot. Got me away from my first roommate (ex-military who loved knives) for a night. Solid, smart and cheery pop music. And, yes, with a middle America connection (see The Embarrassment).

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Allmusic: With the legendary Sean Slade/Paul Kolderie team doing the producing honors at Fort Apache studios, Big Dipper built upon the strengths of Boo-Boo (included with the CD version of Heavens) quite successfully. As with their earlier release, the music sparks with post-punk/power pop fire, but often eschews romantic angst dark or light for less expected lyrical realms. "Easter Eve" captures the slightly off spirit of Big Dipper well -- besides being an unheard-of holiday, the strong riffs always end quickly, holding back a touch, chopping along with a strange intensity. "Younger Bums" has a great, strong central riff, even while Goffrier and company dismiss the title characters and their frustrating ways. Though the variety of the record isn't high, at points the four members nicely reach to new heights, assisted by the sharp, but never overly polished, work of Slade and Kolderie. "Lunar Module" has an especially fine, trancy ending, the band chanting "That's what it seems" slowly over a leisurely fading groove. "Man O' War" features a guest mandolin player; its rushed pace and ruminative lyrics, not to mention Goffrier's delivery, sounds like a hyperactive American cousin of the Go-Betweens. It's a feeling that crops up more than once throughout the record, Goffrier's slightly tremulous passion (no matter what the subject) lending the music an extra punch. The album ends on a fine note with "Guitar Named Desire," a slightly surfy, mostly instrumental track that kicks up its heels nicely. Charming and forceful all at once, Heavens boded well for Big Dipper as the full start of its recording career.



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The Lee Harvey Oswald Band - A Taste of Prison

Damn, when I first picked up the LHO Band's first EP eons ago and "Getting Wasted with The Vampires" fired up, once past Rick Sim's signature hoooowl the hooks were meat deep in me. Full of shred, cock, drug fetishizing, quasi-Bowie haute vocals and some gnarly production, the whole long-player is just what I call wild. Example: Steam Roller Doggie. "Yeah I saw your daddy giving head down at the zoo."

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Allmusic: According to urban legend, several hundred copies of Taste of Prison were sent to correctional facilities across the United States. The cover photo of a (seemingly) 13-year-old naked girl shooting up makes that highly unlikely, but it would definitely be in character if it were true. Lee Harvey Oswald cranks out 17 tracks (the album also includes the tracks from the previously released Lee Harvey Oswald Band EP) of Slade-inspired garage band noise, as exemplified by "The Bowels of Rock and Roll." The Sonics' "Boss Hoss" never sounded so warped and eerie. All in all, a solid rock album produced during the early 1990s, when rock wasn't cool.


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Cop Shoot Cop - Consumer Revolt

Just in time for ForestRoxxMas Eve is our Bahhumbuggerin pro-recession message from those perpetrators of anti-social NYC scum bang n clang, dishpan anarchy, Cop Shoot Cop. This will undoubtedly be a monster disappointment to Baywatch who has made it perfectly clear "Shine On Elizabeth" is tha alpha and omega of CSC. Tough titty, Bay.

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Allmusic: Employing two basses and no guitar, Cop Shoot Cop's debut album proper (following the 1988 EP Headkick Facsimile) sets out the band's agenda - an overpowering wash of staccato riffs and obtuse samples married to harrowing narratives. Though placing them amid the burgeoning industrial music scene, Cop Shoot Cop's aesthetic shares something with New York's No Wave explosion of the late '70s. There is light at the end of their bleak tunnel of nihilism - even a kind of urban romanticism. And, like fellow travellers Big Black, Cop Shoot Cop recognize the importance of hooks, which resonate throughout their best songs. Initially issued on a tiny Long Island indie, it was later picked up by UK-based label Big Cat. The two longest tracks, "Burn Your Bridges" and album-closer "Eggs For Rib" are the highlights.


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Red Crayola - The Parable of Arable Land

What no Red Crayola up in here? WTF is that? And we call ourselves pissers in the mainstream. We had some Mayo but the man made us yank it down. Damn you man! So no better place to intro the K(C)rayola than at the start. Try and make us yank this man!

No more yanky my wanky, Donger need Crayola. Here is.

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Allmusic: Red Crayola's debut remains their most celebrated and notorious effort. Although this was categorized as psychedelia when first released, it's more like futuristic avant-noise-rock. Mayo Thompson's flighty songs about hurricane fighter planes and transparent radiation are almost submerged by a cacophony of "free-form freak-out" noise created on kazoos, flutes, harmonica, hammer, jugs, bottles, sticks, and more by a large ensemble of friends dubbed the "Familiar Ugly." Minority opinion holds that the wistfulness of Thompson's tunes (the brittle "War Sucks" excepted) and voice may have been served better by less self-consciously far-out arrangements. (Several of the songs can be heard in more skeletal form on the Epitaph for a Legend compilation). Parable of Arable Land was quite a daring statement for its day, however, with instrumental cameos by Roky Erickson on a couple of tracks. [Sunspot reissued the album on disc in 2003.]

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Danny and Dusty - The Lost Weekend

In 1985 I was handed an advance cassette from an A&M rep for a new release. He said he didn't know what the label was going to do with it cause it was... well... he didn't know. I know what I did with mine: I wore that cassette out over a decade of beer-fueled roadtrips. It wasn't art, but screw art - I wanted drinking buddies.

Danny and Dusty was a one-off project thrown together by an inbred clique of Paisley Undergrounders. Steve Wynn of Dream Syndicate and Dan Stuart of Green on Red, along with members of their bands and members of The Long Ryders spent 36 drunken hours recording this ode to pool halls and booze. It was never meant to be taken seriously - and it shouldn't be.

The Lost Weekend never sold, but over the years it earned a reputation and has held up better than a lot of the participants' more serious endeavours. There are stupid songs and games of one-upsmanship as well as hints of the darker tones for which the Wynn and Stuart were known. It isn't slick or awesome. What it is though, is a perfect moment in time that, like a good photograph of you and your best buddies on your best day, makes you happy and sad simultaneously.

From allmusic:

For years, legend had it that this "Paisley Underground" supersession — starring Dan Stuart from Green on Red and Steve Wynn from the Dream Syndicate, with three-quarters of the Long Ryders joining members of the two above-mentioned groups as the backing band — was recorded in a mere three days over a long weekend in 1985. In his liner notes to the 1996 CD reissue, Wynn sets the record straight; actually, the basic tracks were cut in a single beer-fueled recording session (lasting a whopping 36 hours), with the guys calling it quits on Saturday night in order to give themselves Sunday to recover. Fortunately, their muses appear to have been knocking 'em back right alongside them; The Lost Weekend is often sloppy, but just as frequently inspired, with Stuart and Wynn throwing their best Dylan-gone-goofy wordplay at each other, and the players (especially Chris Cacavas on piano and Sid Griffin and Stephen McCarthy on guitars) generating a good and greasy faux-country groove that sounds like a well-oiled honky tonk band having some left-of-center fun before last call. Most of the cuts are played for a laugh, or at least a smirk (most notably "The Word Is Out" and "Song for the Dreamers"), but "Miracle Mile" and "Down to the Bone" prove that the darker sides of Stuart and Wynn's musical personas could still cut through the boozy haze, and "Send Me a Postcard" is a lovably wobbly buddy number that makes the guys sound like a post-modern Waylon and Willie. For the most part, The Lost Weekend is studiedly non-serious, but for sheer entertainment value it's stood the test of time better than much of Steve Wynn and Dan Stuart's official product from the period; it's wiry roots rock that's low on pretension and high on good times. Or cheap beer.

There are moments when the good times are so clever you don't want the song to end. Song For The Dreamers namechecks its way through a who's who of characters from Fidel Castro to Fred Gwynn, Jackie O to Ryne Sandburg. One of those names is the noir author Jim Thompson who could easily have been responsible for the darker tunes on the record that find their gallows humor in the lowest of low-lives. And so it goes, from laughs to trash. You recognize these (maybe not so) lovable losers and thank your lucky stars you aren't one of them anymore (I hope).

So pop the caps off some longnecks, park your ass on a milk crate (preferably in your garage) and crank it up. Like I said, it ain't art, but it's a damned good time.

addendum: The record, appropriately enough, ends with a cover of Knockin on Heaven's Door, but with an added verse of their own. In a conversation over a beer with Padre a couple of years after this came out Dan Stuart told the Padre that his added lyrics were better than anything Dylan ever wrote in his life. Stuart was always a dick.

An exquisite vinyl rip requiring a password: PVAcblog
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Talk Talk - Laughing Stock

At Curry's request, this is a crosspost from my blog

Talk Talk, new wave's most musically travelled, flew through a decade producing 5 albums along the way - each different from the other, each progressing further from their hair band roots and into something deeper, more fantastical and ultimately uncategorizable. Their last album achieved a pinnacle of artistry that no other new wave popsters ever approached (and even fewer of their brethren understood).

Dumped by their record company for producing nothing remotely commercial with their fourth album, Talk Talk signed to Polydor for that last outing. Polydor, in an act of deep respect for the work actually revived the retired jazz imprint, Verve, for the album's release.

The lyrics are mumbled and muddled - even the liner notes are illegible - but they all allude to deep and personal battles of spirituality and the tragic struggle that entails. There are moments of shocking awareness where we feel uncomfortably close to the essence of another's soul and its fragility is terrifying.

From allmusic of the track, After The Flood:

It's not until a minute and 45 seconds in that it reaches its full momentum. The song is like a free jazz quilt with an experimental pop bent. It's hard to say if it's Mark Hollis or Tim Friese-Greene who's responsible for the meditative organ that holds the song together, but it's definitely the percussion of Martin Ditcham and the drums of Lee Harris that give the song its throbbing energy.

For a ten-minute song that actually relies on a verse-chorus-verse structure, Mark Hollis barely seems to sing at all, as long instrumental passages with all players weaving in and out of each other's notes and sounds rule the song. But when he delivers the devastating "Shake my head, turn my face to the floor, dead to respect, to respect to be born, lest we forget who lay" the song takes on a tangible and powerful, if cryptic meaning. That Hollis pours so much passion into "After the Flood" makes it one of the true highlights of Laughing Stock.

It might take repeat listens for some people to appreciate "After the Flood"'s subtle grace, but this necessity is a testament to the song's and the album's daunting complexity.

And of the track, Ascension Day:

Wailing, scratching violas tear at the song's walls. Mark Hollis goes back and forth between pristine guitar notes and epic electric storms, all the while offering stream of conscious, nonsensical vocals like "Farewell fare well/Mother numb to and devout to/Reckon luck sees us the same." It's as if he's rediscovering his sense of humanity and knowledge of language at the same time, while accepting that he'll "burn on judgment day."

Martin Ditcham adds some levity via harmonica, but even then, his contribution packs more disturbing feelings into the song's growling belly. The track's shockingly abrupt ending, as if all the recording equipment has suddenly lost power, is a stunning act of defiance and a refusal to adhere to traditional musical structures. Uplifting, yet creepy, "Ascension Day" sounds like an abstract film score transformed into a glorious rock movement.

Sadly, the album came out at a moment when musical tastes changed suddenly and profoundly. Around the time of its release another little album was released as well - Nirvana's Nevermind - and the tidal wave of grunge and DIY and lo-fi that followed drowned out this masterpiece.

Post-rock music would not exist as we know it were it not for Laughing Stock. Its mix of jazz, classical, and experimental atmospherics has few precedents (but many adherents, Godspeed You Black Emperor, Sigur Ros and Mogwai to name a few). Though it should take nothing more than the distorted and lengthy single-note guitar solo on After The Flood to convince anyone, in my opinion, no recording of the last twenty years has been more unjustly ignored.

From allmusic:

Laughing Stock continues to grow in stature and influence by leaps and bounds...

...A work of staggering complexity and immense beauty, Laughing Stock remains an under-recognized masterpiece, and its echoes can be heard throughout much of the finest experimental music issued in its wake.

That a band which was once lumped into the dance-oriented new wave scene was able to create a career-capper of an album as challenging and sparse as Laughing Stock and do so in such a staggering, uncompromising manner is further testament to its genius.

If you've never heard it, indulge. If you have, revisit.
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Tommy Keene - Places That Are Gone / Run Now

So much of what gets posted here is really good stuff. So much of it deserves a larger audience and more respect than it's gotten. But let's face it, Albert Ayler was never going to be mainstream. Pere Ubu had no chance of ever going platinum. The Boredoms aren't top of the charts material. And it's better that way. That's part of why we like them.

But there are bands - artists - out there that nailed it: that got pop right. They SHOULD have sold millions. They should have owned the charts, their perfect singles ringing out of our car radios. They were wronged, screwed, and fucked by an industry that didn't get it and a public that bought the crap they were handed.

Tommy Keene was pop perfection. The antidote to all that was wrong with pop music in the eighties. Sadly when his critically acclaimed EPs got him his big contract the recording was badly produced. He made a good (not great) record and then slipped back into obscurity. Oh, but those EPs!

Places That Are Gone is pure pop magic.

From allmusic:

This six-song set became one of 1984's top-selling and critically acclaimed independent releases. Although the reissued version of his 1981 debut album, Strange Alliance, received a lot of press, it wasn't readily available even within a couple of years of its release, so this magnificent collection of intelligent, guitar-based pop was the first glimpse many got of the much-written-about great pop hope from Washington, D.C. Shades of the Who, the Byrds, and Big Star shine through in memorable, hook-laden songs and strong vocal harmonies, with Keene's fluid guitar work adorning every track. Containing five irresistible Keene originals plus an ardent cover of Alex Chilton's "Hey! Little Child," the original and best version of the melodic title track is also the leadoff song.

Rave reviews of the EP in Rolling Stone and the Village Voice helped Keene gain national exposure and catch the attention of major record labels. But similar to Marshall Crenshaw, Keene's critical accolades never translated to record sales, even though he would continue to release truly great and artistically consistent pop/rock records.

Run Now popped up in 1986 after his major debut. It was, however, made up of tracks recorded previously including his searing live cover of Lou Reed's Kill Your Sons that is worth the price of admission.

allmusic again:

Containing the song "Run Now," produced by Bob Clearmountain, and included in the Madonna film Out of Bounds, four of the other five tracks here were culled from the T-Bone Burnett and Don Dixon sessions cut in 1984 for the original version of Songs From the Film. In contrast to the album Geffen ended up releasing, the Burnett/Dixon tracks reveal an effort to capture the subtle nuances and characteristics of Keene's unique guitar sound and style. Thankfully, the drum sound in these recordings belies the typical bigger-than-life studio reverberation found on commercial recordings of the day; Burnett and Dixon opted to keep the foundation for these tracks simple and nature. The title cut — produced by Bob Clearmountain — is okay, but it pales next to songs like "They're in Their Own World" and "Back Again," which appeared in 1984 as a 12" single. A plus is the killer live version of Lou Reed's "Kill Your Sons," which is much better than the studio rendition released on Songs From the Film.

Places That Are Gone is out of print, but the link is a fine vinyl rip.

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Run Now was included (minus the live Kill Your Sons) on Geffen's reissue of Songs From The Film. As a stand alone, however, it is out of print. The link is a stunning rip of the original EP factory cassette.

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Urinals - First 7" and I'm a Bug EP

For D. One of his inspirations. This and Blue Oyster Cult, oddly.

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Wikipedia: The band's first performance, in 1978, was a parody of punk rock performed for a talent show at their UCLA dorm. Though none could play their instruments, three of the original members continued to perform in on-campus venues. Their songs were usually short, and seldom utilized more than two chords--if that.


The band’s first off-campus show was at Raul’s in Austin, Texas. Returning to L.A., they appeared with such groups as The Go-Go's and Black Flag. A roughly-recorded, four-song EP followed. After developing a somewhat more sophisticated sound, the band changed its name to 100 Flowers (inspired by Chairman Mao's famous quote), but disbanded in 1983.
In 1996, the band reformed as the Urinals, releasing a CD of new material in 2003. In 2005, they performed at the Chaoyang International Pop Festival in Beijing, in what is believed to be the first punk rock performance in China[1]. They later took the name Chairs of Perception (presumably a parody of Huxley's The Doors of Perception) before again becoming the Urinals in 2008.


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Various Artists - Our Band Could Be Your Life : Tribute to D Boon and the Minutemen

Remember where you were when you heard that D Boon had died?

I thought I had known Bad Christmases before 1985, but all of that old school intrafamilialcidal hullabaloo couldn't hold a candle to the shock of the demise of the First Harbinger of Hope I had ever known, even if I hadn't realized his significance as such at the time.

Sounds shallow now, Sure, but the death of D Boon even prompted me to write a piece for the high school newspaper. And this being The Very Then Me, a determined Man who reflexively thumbed his nose at all public organs, The Fourth Estate included.

Self-hater to the Core. Stupid moi that I don't have it at hand. I'm certain it sucks but it's the thought that counts. At least I recall the editor (Mr. Brown) saying to me, "Banks, you must really have liked these guys!" ON the tip of my tongue was the no-shit-Sherlock-varietal-of-the-day, but I held fast and simply nodded. The important thing was that it made the cut. Was read and regarded by my peers.

Year One. Yes, I remember well how we mourned that very first December 22th, way back in 1986. It was pretty much the Krafty Lovelordz and the Drippy Bog and our friends and some Milwaukee's Best back in my bedroom at 22 N. Madison, LaGrange, IL. We were all there because we loved their music like life itself. We cranked it to no end and toasted like there was no tomorrow. But we were still in shock, and essentially speaking, still somewhat oblivious to the loss of D Boon, a loss which only grows greater and deeper as these decades cease to pass.

Personally, I know that the only reason I was ever in a band to begin with was because of the Minutemen. Sure, there were other bands before the Minutemen that made me feel less self-conscious about the prospect of picking up an instrument, but it was entirely the Minutemen who made me understand that it was a downright obligation to

LET YOURSELF BE HEARD!

Enough Blathering Already. Honestly, I don't think that the album you can d/l below is one of the very best albums of all time. (But it's a compilation album so it's already got that going against it). However, I will still tooth-n-nail contend that there are a number of spectacular cuts on this altruistically unblemished effort.

Ballot Result. And really, despite all the cool names enumerated below, the reason I proffer this album on the occasion of the 23rd anniversary of D Boon's passing is because, once again, it's the thought (and no less, the action), that counts, and I don't doubt that all of these folks dug the Minutemen the way I did and do, and eagerly offered to play these songs as a way of mildly ameliorating their eternally ephemeral psychic debt.

Get Some Religions. Sometimes it strikes me weird, when I think of how I think of D Boon now, and when I say weird, I mean weird in a way that almost makes me understand why some people go and start up messianic cults or mainstream religions. For if I was to start up a Personal Pantheon of Pathos, this dearly beloved motherfucker would be right at the top.

His songs were like Bob Dylan to me. So if you've read all this way but still don't know what I'm talking about, then, please, pretty please. Go out and treat yourself to Double Nickels on The Dime.

Yes, This Holiday Season, Go Buy Double Nickels On The Dime! (nigh on Four Stars from the Rolling Stone!), you lovely anxious mo-fo you.

Preaching to the Converted. But if you do know what I'm talking about (i.e., about D Boon being Jesus and all), and maybe are or are not familiar with the fine effort below, please (re) consider. Because even if it's not the way you would have done it, it's still an amazing array of talent and heart and soul and sweat dedicated to a single cause, a shared purpose, a meaningful memory...


1. Sparkalepsy-King of the Hill
2.Seam-This Ain't No Picnic
3.Overpass-Fake Contest
4. Hazel-Storm in my House
5. Nuzzle-Futurism Restated
6. Oswald Five-O-Tony Gets Wasted in Pedro
7. Joe Boon & Tony Platon-Sickles and Hammers
8. The Brain Surgeons-Tour-Spiel
9. The 3M Company-Search
10. Treepeople-Shit from an Old Notebook
11. Vida-'99
12. Ethan James & Cindy Albon-Themselves
13. Tsunami-Courage
14. Cellophane-More Joy
15. Strawman-Untitled Song for Latin America
16.Meat Puppets-Price of Paradise
17. Crackerbash-The World According to Nouns
18. Nels Cline Trio-Self-Referenced/West Germany
19. Dos-Do You Want New Wave Or Do You Want the Truth?
20. Experimental Pollen #68-Games
21. Overwhelming Colorfast-Corona
22. Free Kitten-Party with Me Punker
23. Jawbox-It's Expected I'm Gone
24. Locos Borachos-The Product
25. Thurston Moore-Shit You Hear at Parties
26. Joe Baiza-9:30 May 2
27. 67 Riot-Case Closed
28. Kaia-Stories
29. Unwound-Plight
30. The Meices-Political Song for Michael Jackson to Sing
31. Blowout-Times
32. Corduroy-Cut
33. Lou Barlow-Black Sheep

34. D Boon Interview
35. Minutemen (live)-Badges

HEAR

!

Minuteflag - EP

This gets universally slagged but, in this reporter's opinion, was never given it's due out of context of the MM and BF animals. Now that those animals are dead, can we take a minute to reassess?

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From the Wikipedia (Wiki entry edited by me to omit the anachronistic phrase "jam band"): Minuteflag was a collaboration between members of the American punk bands Black Flag and the Minutemen. Their only release, an EP, consists almost entirely of instrumentals with the exception of "Fetch The Water" which features D. Boon on lead vocals.

It took place in March 1985, while Black Flag was in the process of writing and recording Loose Nut at Total Access Studio in Redondo Beach, CA; the Minutemen had just completed their Project Mersh 12" EP at the same studio the month before. The members involved initially agreed that the material recorded during the Minuteflag sessions would not be released until at least one of the bands had disbanded. The wait would prove to be sadly short; a 12" EP on SST Records as SST 050 came out over a year afterward, by which time The Minutemen had disbanded after the car crash death of guitarist/vocalist D. Boon; Black Flag themselves would split up later in 1986. Despite the demand for the album amongst hardcore fans of both bands, the EP has yet to be rereleased on CD by SST.

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Minutemen - September 21, 1985 - Berkeley, CA. Berkeley Square - FM broadcast

Another '85 gem caught on tape just prior to D's December demise.

FM broadcast Setlist:

1. Courage (fade-in)

2. Anxious Mo-Fo

3. Toadies

4. The Big Foist

5. Retreat

6. Corona

7. Do You Want New Wave Or Do You Want The Truth?

8. King Of The Hill

9. Hey Lawdy Mama

10. The Cheerleaders

11. Fake Contest

12. Beacon Sighted Through Fog

13. The Only Minority

14. Stories

15. What Is It?

16. Mr. Robot's Holy Orders

17. Don't Look Now

18. Dream Told By Moto

19. The Big Stick

20. Lost

21. One Reporter's Opinion

22. Ack Ack Ack

23. Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love

24. This Ain't No Picnic

Two fantastic resources for live MM jams, videos and homages

http://www.archive.org/details/Minutemen

http://corndogs.org/

Hear

Minutemen - Acoustic Blowout 1983

D. Boon died 23 years ago tomorrow. Here's another nod. This is not the classic 1985 acoustic blowout but this one's from a live jam on KFPK in LA on September 3, 1983. Sounds like there was a little moto going down.

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Set list:
1. The Only Minority
2. This Ain't No Picnic
3. Little Man With A Gun In His Hand
4. Nature Without Man
5. Instrumental Jam
6. Bob Dylan Wrote Propaganda Songs
7. Plight
8. The Big Foist
9. Fanatics
10. Joy Jam
11. If Reagan Played Disco
12. Self Referenced
13. This Road


Hear

Golden '08

I don't listen to too much new music anymore. I used to be an obscene, annoying and conspicuous consumer. Now I got other shit to do, like work, get fat, drink wine, contemplate getting skinny and stopping drinking and working. Takes a lot of time being middle class and mediocre.

But, for what it's worth, below is a list of some of my top release of 2008 in no particular order. Pay attention for special happy family bonus.

All the rest of the love I have left in 2008,

The Management

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=> Jay Reatard - Matador Singles

=> No Age - Nouns

=> Plants and Animals - Parc Avenue

=> Deerhunter - Microcastle

=> M83 - Saturdays = Youth

=> Titus Andronicus - The Airing of Grievances

=> Santogold - Santogold

=> Wavves - S/T

=> The Walkmen - You & Me

=> Portishead - Third

=> Fennesz - Black Sea

=> Grouper - Dragging A Dead Deer Up A Hill

=> Beach House - Devotion

=> MGMT - Oracular Spectacular

=> Teenage Panzerkorps - Games for Slaves

Serge Gainsbourg - Aux Armes Et Caetera

Rocky says: Freggae Supreme! 1979. Serge is looking for a new sound. So he heads down to Jamaica, to make his own contribution to the locally-grown craze that's taking the world by storm. He hooks up with Marley's backing band and singers, all legendary players in their own right.

So Wrong it's Right. The bio account (cf. Sylvie Simmons book) tells a tale of a strange intersection of cultures: the band be toking while Serge politely demurs in favor of his lounge lizard scotch. The band eying this curious louche Frenchman with puzzlement. The I-Threes singing the refrain to "Lola Rastaquouère" entirely unaware that Serge is telling a story about rolling his "poor joint" between a bodacious Jamaican teen's tits.

Pure Jamaican Gold. And the result is a pristine groove masterpiece that hasn't aged a day. They took it on the road for awhile, but the title hit tune, which made yawning mockery of the bloodthirsty French national anthem ("To arms! whatever..."), so infuriated the French veterans that there were riots and bomb threats and the bewildered band quickly scurried back to Jamaica. Oh. Dear Lord, but how I so love this record!

allmusic: This is one messed-up set. Dig the fact that this is Serge Gainsbourg in dread beat and booze. Aux Armes et Cætera is literally Gainsbourg on the rocksteady tip with Sly and Robbie, Flabba Holt, Michael "Mao" Chung, Ansel Collins, I-Threes, Rita Marley, Marcia Griffiths, and Judy Mowatt, Sticky Thompson, Leroy "Horsemouth" Wallace, and a bunch of French folks playing puff-the-ganja and help the white man in Kingston. Gainsbourg knew what he wanted — a Lee Perry-styled dubber and dread outing — and he knew the cats to hire to get it. It contains 15 cuts; some, such as "Javanaise," are remakes, while others, ("Des Laids, Des Laids") were written for the session.

The Jamaican studio musicians are solid, rocking it down the pipe dark, smoky, and deadly in their grooves. While Serge would seemingly be at a creative impasse, having been one of the whitest men ever to record a side, his tunes work here because he's allowed them to be completely transformed by the Rastas, and his vocals work because they are chanted [rapped] rather than sung. This is weird, dangerous, and campy music, but it works like a charm. In its day this album was reviled: now it's the work of a visionary. Go figure, but if you dig Gainsbourg, this is for you.

Hear

Jane - Berserker

Very subtle and genuine and a little dusty in its corners

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The Milk Factory says this here stuff: Formed of Animal Collective vocalist and guitarist Noah Lenox, AKA Panda Bear, and Queens’ mastermind and 14K member Scott Mou, Jane is a collaborative project that sits on the edge of the pair’s respective work. With Animal Collective and through his solo work, Lennox has developed a truly unique sound built around incantatory songs and acoustic drone structures. Mou on the other hand, usually works within an electro-acoustic setting to get to similar results. Left free to rampage through the remote boundaries of a scene which has spawned the likes of Animal Collective and Black Dice, the pair create in just four tracks a strange and fascinating world, which relies very little on either of the musicians’ usual experimental playground.


The pair met a few years back in New York while working in a record store. Brought together by an interest in dance music of all kind, Mou and Lennox started improvising and rehearsing, finding comfort in Mou’s own house and studio. Yet, dance music is very seldom referenced here as the pair focus on vast soundscapes, drones and glitches to establish the blueprint for their music.


The album opens with the title track, which very much evolves within Animal Collective territory. A looped guitar strum circles around Panda Bear’s familiar voice, the lot lost in a cloud of vast reverbs. As the melody progresses, the fragile nature of this song sets the tone for a rather unusual and challenging collaboration. Yet, this first track doesn’t actually give a relevant picture of what this album has to offer. As Agg Report slides in, the scope changes totally to focus on a simple melody draped in discreet piano and electronics far more representative of things to come. As a relentless beat sets the track in motion, Lennox and Mou slowly develop drone-like layers of sounds and voices and apply echoes and effects on them to create something at times reminiscent of the stripped down electronic-infused indie of Seefeel.


Although developing in different directions, the third and epic (twenty-five minutes) fourth tracks bear much resemblance to Agg Report, exploring similar ambiences and textures. As the music slowly evolve from drone-form to richer, more opened, soundscapes, Panda Bear’s unmistakable voice, at times left pretty much in its natural state, at others heavily treated, carves incisive grooves right at the heart of each track. Swan especially shows an interesting use of his voice. Processed and totally integrated, it becomes part of the sonic make-up of this record, bringing something totally ethereal and surreal to the drones developed by Mou. Here, the pair appear the most at ease, free to explore fully the scope of their collaboration and take it as far as possible.


Berserker is an unusual and challenging record, which at time appears to hesitate between a number of possible identities. Far from weakening its structure or putting at risk its balance, this actually contributes to this album sounding incredibly dense, yet totally accessible. As composed and assured as Lennox and Mou are here, Berserker is terribly fragile and is touching because of that.


Hear

Yo La Tengo - Nuclear War EP & The Sounds of the Sounds of Science

A bountiful and mystical undersea soundtrack and a Sun Ra cover - a Yo Las duo from 2002

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Salon.com on Nuclear War: Sun Ra originally recorded the song in 1982, three years after the nuclear disaster at Three Mile Island (Ra's "Arkestra" was based in nearby Philadelphia), and with the Cold War at full chill. Perhaps the most underrated composer and pianist in the history of jazz, Sun Ra's recording of "Nuclear War" was almost impossible to find over the last decade until Atavistic reissued it in 2002, shortly before the song started showing up in Yo La Tengo's live shows.

The first of Yo La Tengo's four adaptations is all drums and chanting, and serves as the foundation for various (and you can't get much more various) guest artists to build upon. The second track features a regular children's crusade of the band's giggling nieces and nephews that chant the response to the lyrics. And then there is the spookily taut remix of the kiddie version by New York hip-hop phenomenon Mike Ladd, without the giggles.

Guesting on the third version is a whole slew of New York jazz musicians. Unsurprisingly, this track comes closest to the original. Joining McNew and Hubley are Josh Modell (of Antietam) on bongos and percussionist Susie Ibarra, who maintains a low, seasick rhythm under the main groove. Roy Campbell (trumpet), Sabir Mateen (sax), and Daniel Carter (sax) make up the horn section and trade some loose, melodic solos before coming together in an all-too-short three-way jam, after which the song trails off to an elegiac finale.

You don't buy a Swiss Army knife for the tiny tweezers, and "Nuclear War" is certainly not the most essential record in the Yo La Tengo catalog. It's a lot of fun, though, and makes an worthy addition to an already attractive package.

Wiki explains Sounds: The Sounds of the Sounds of Science is a score written by Yo La Tengo for filmmaker Jean Painlevé. It contains 78 minutes of instrumental music to accompany his eight short documentary-style films shot underwater. The live performances are known as “The Sounds of Science.” The program debuted in 2001 at the San Francisco Film Festival. The entire score has been performed approximately twelve times. The band had not heard of Painlevé before being asked to work on the project nor did the band view the films much before writing the music.[1]

In an interview with Jim DeRogatis of the Chicago Sun-Times, guitarist Ira Kaplan stated:

What was different was that it was all sound for the most part. There was melody involved in the pieces, but it was really all about mood. There's so much of that in the songs we work on anyway, but to think only about the way the mood was developing was a big difference. The songs tend to start the same way with just the three of us kind of playing and seeing what comes out, but once we had something that we were working on, it was a lot different, and the pieces were all 10 minutes long![2]

The album's cover photos are from the accompanying films. The album artwork was designed by Jim Woodring and Jad Fair.

Hear Sounds Part 1

Hear Sounds Part 2

Hear Nuclear War

Panda Bear - Ottobar, Baltimore, MD, June 21, 2007

A sort of haunting, click n clack live effort from one of the undisputed bosses of the nextgen (And I'm pretty darn stuck up on new music mostly anymore - cuz, you know, when you hit like 35 years old it gets harder and harder to hear something fresh in music made by 18 - 25 year old who think Smashing Pumpkins are classic rock and whose formative years were spent in front of Backstreet Boy vids).

Behind heavily melodic, cheery cotton-candy Zombies jams/white boy ragas, this set demonstrates why he's starting to reveal himself as the brainchild behind the Animal Collective. In fact, a handful of these numbers are set to appear on the new AC LP next month.

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Sebadoh - Asshole & Oven Is My Friend 7s"

The best and the worst of Sebadoh 7"s. (IMO)

With "Oven" some might say this was the beginning of the (interesting) end. Where things got away from the outsider and became the insider. After this is where melody and tunefulness started to outweigh dissonance. Some might say... I might say...

I'm not sure there's a better Sebadoh 7" than Asshole. If so it's sitting on a Baywatch shelf somewhere waiting to be ripped to digital. I know I have analog tape in the cold, dirty basement of some pretty spectacular, seminal 7s. And some stuff graciously sent by Lou himself.

But Asshole... so much anger and beauty. The sound of someone trying to rise above some adversity and pretty much flat-out failing.

Hear Oven (Reduced to two tracks: Side A & Side B.)

Hear Asshole

Dread Meets Punk Rockers Uptown: the Soundtrack to London's Legendary Roxy Club December 1976 - April 1977

I couldn't have done this comp better myself... probably because I would've chosen many of the same numbers. This is a damn treat. Like Kahlua in a big glass of cold milk (with Jimmy Cliff, of course).

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For all the acres of music press newsprint whipped up by the British punk explosion, in late 1976, actual quality punk rock records were scarce. The movement--the fashion, the attitude, the sense of rebellion--had arrived long before the record companies could capture it on vinyl, so London's Roxy club catered for the discerning clubber with another edgy rebel sound: dub reggae. Compiled by the club's rastafari DJ Don Letts--a future Big Audio Dynamite member, and one-time manager of punk-reggae maidens The Slits--Dreads Meets The Punk Rockers Uptown showcases a selection of the era's breaking Jamaican sounds. There's a wealth of bona fide dub classics here, in the shape of King Tubby's "Bag Of Wire Dub", Augustus Pablo's "King Tubby Meets The Rockers Uptown", Lee "Scratch" Perry's "The Tackro", and The Congos' "Fisherman". The most intriguing tracks, however, are those included as a signpost towards punk's evolution: see Junior Murvin's "Police And Thieves", later to be covered by The Clash, marking punk's shift away from posturing white guitar rage, and towards defiant, anti-authoritarian multicultural statements. Dreads Meets The Punk Rockers Uptown is a period piece, sure, but it sounds fresh even now. --Louis Pattison


Hear Part 1


Hear Part 2

Chavez - Ride The Fader

JW recommended this to me some time ago. I bought. I stalled. I dabbled. I stuck a toe in. Never got too hot or too cold for me. Wasn't just right either, until I think I drove somewhere a long ways away. And I forgot to bring a lot to listen to. In fact, I think I only brought this and Between The Buttons (one of my top 3 Stones effort). I think the drive was 10 hours each way maybe. So, Chavez and I got super friendly. Shared a lot of smokes, stories, lies, coffee, chili cheese coneys, rest stop rendezvous with a cornucopia of econo lot lizards. A bond was forged. I don't recommend you go to the same extreme to get chummy with this exceptional recording, merely don't give up on it at first. The best friendships are those forged out of adversity.

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Pitchfork: As a competitor, you'd have a hard time topping those kids over at Matador these days. Quite simply, the bottomless pool of talent they've amassed thrusts most down to the lowest lows of the record label caste system. But from the superstar-ish, quirky cash-cow Pavement to the low-fi bliss of a Guided By Voices (to countless others), one has to wonder if the label's modest indie-fra-structure can support yet another top draw without tipping the single-source venerability scale.

Enter Chavez. The dense thicket of sound on Ride the Fader makes you want to wheel your bike around the neighborhood with your tape recorder blaring, or beat somebody up. The sophomore offering swells with the familiar angularity of Gone Glimmering and a new, more refined sense of sonic maturity.

Producer John Agnello, doing his best last-second, understudy performance impression, stepped in for a struggling Bryce Goggin to create an album that backs everything good you've heard about them playing live.

On "Tight Around the Jaws," Clay Tarver's lush guitar swallows up a distant bell-tree accompaniment while Matt Sweeney's menacing, yet indifferent vocals give even Stephen Malkmus a run for his money.

"Flight '96" grooves atop drummer James Lo's steady pop-beat and warms to a feverish, trance-like coda, while a kinder, gentler Chavez rounds the album with cuts like "Ever Overpsyched" and the catchy "Unreal is Here".

Ride the Fader is the kind of album you'll want to listen to with headphones. In an age of generic alterna-kitsch, Chavez's brand of pure, indie-rock svelte takes a back seat to no one, even on a label like Matador's.

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