Friday, March 31, 2006

THE GHOST OF WALTER GLASER HAUNTS THE WINGS OF MY GHOST DAD...SEND HELP! Above -- Son of Earth trio causing mass destruction opening for Bulldoze, Marauder and Fury of V. Photo credit -- B.J. Puppies

Just when I was ready to don my beehive wig and let you know the real me via a lengthy discourse on Evie Sands, Peanut and The Goodees, this brand spankin’ new tape from Violent Students plopped it’s way through the mail slot and into the deck. Sounding like it was recorded on a ninth generation Realistic C-60, this cassette entitled ‘Bitchy Woman’ (get it? get it?) further extenuates The Studs non - existent curves and displays them for the solid block of grey, grey meat that they are. Someone yells at a black chick. Some dude throws up. It’s heavy, man. Dig it up via the Maim and Disfigure label.

But it hasn’t been all vomit and racial slurs around the boudoir lately. No surrey bobcat. This new CDR release by the Son of Earth trio entitled ’Erotic Empire’ has made sure of that. As some of you might know, the S.O.E. are capable of creating sounds that are barely there and only sonically readable by their pulse and presence. This new batch of jams kicks it up a few notches. We’re not talkin’ Montrose or anything, but the electro-squeals are abit more apparent and all the twinkling/tinkling sounds alittle more aggressive. Dare I also say it all sounds sorta…sexy? You know, the kinda sex you would have in a dank cave on a pile of scrap metal. And we all know that kinda relations is the best kind of relations. Why dontcha mosey on over to the Apostasy site and score one of these chumps, chump. P.S.-- If you reside in the Canadian area, be sure to check out the love sludge rawk of The Believers (Two out of three S.O.E. members in that unit, y’know) as they strangle their way through your town with Sunburned Hand of the Man. Dates? I got ‘em -- March 31 --Montreal/April 1 -- Montreal/ April 2 -- Ottawa

I don’t know where your asshole self resides, but from where I’m sittin’, Spring is coming on full and strong. As the windows open wider and the beer gets drunk earlier in the day, I need a soundtrack for this new lease on life. Luckily this copy of the Howlin’ Rain CD came in the post on the sunniest day thus far to make life just THAT MORE livable. Ethan from Comets on Fire and John Maloney of Sunburned Hand of the Man team up to produce the most legit beard swayin’ tracks to come out since The Suntanama decided to sequester themselves in the uptown lab. Shit…is that Ethan bustin’ out the Terry Reid impersonation that would make Chris Robinson hide in shame? Is Maloney bustin’ out some sweet Mick Fleetwood beats? Total good time jams for the gold tinted station wagon. And remember…don’t be afraid to Poco.

Sometimes beauty comes in strange places. The weirdest place I’ve experienced such exquisiteness has been on this new Religious Knives single (‘Blackbird’ b/w ‘Wax and Flesh’) The destruction of past experiences has been put aside for ghostly, head spinning tracks sure to wake you from dreaming destruction on all and everyone…but that could be just me. The A Side finds Maya’s voice soaring and soaring into the phony heavens while Mikey plucks, scrapes and drops various stringed thangs in a reenactment of Black Lodge rituals. Flipside’s got a fog of droning organs and delayed beats that bring to mind mountain tops I never really knew. Rad. Hey man, bliss is cool again!

And while we’re on both the bliss and Heavy Tapes tip…Mike gave me a whole satchel of new HT jams a few weeks ago. I must admit I’ve been listening to the second side of Fleetwood Mac’s ’Mirage’ too much to really delve into the whole batch, but the cassette that’s really stunned me thus far has been Family Underground’s ’Risen Under Altar Souls’. It seems every F.U. thing I’ve had the pleasure of hearing thus far has been a mystifying experience. Delay mania and slowly enveloping pulses might be old hat to some, but it’s the way they just throw things in out of fucking nowhere to break the tranquility that intrigues me. I think these kids might be honestly insane, and that’s why I love them. And its’ also why I love you…and you…but not you…you smell like whiskey and Demerol on a bad day. Yuck…

Do you remember when we used to hang out and we knew what it was all about? Of course you don’t! But for those who do, step right up to Mike Simonetti’s NYHC flyer fanzine. Man, I’ve known who Simo was before shit became shampoo. He was the ‘Supertouch’ kid! Always hanging from Mark Ryan’s sweatshirt hood begging to sell shirts for the band. Little did I know this kid would become the biggest tycoon in screamo-core. I shoulda been nicer to the dude. But man, he assembled this ‘zine of flyers from Hardcore shows in the late 80’s and it’s the total obvious trip down memory lane for this old, pathetic man I call me. I could go on and on about half these shows, but I don’t wanna bore you and I figure you all know what I’m gonna say by now. Good times…great oldies! I never got into that Project X show at the Lismar Lounge, tho’… Simo did. That kinda fries my fanny. Ugh.

As usual, most of these titles are available through the Fusetron site. Go there and give Chris all your money. He needs new binoculars. Next time, I’ll talk big shit and think I’m the best. Please…put me to the test…

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