Wednesday, May 30, 2007

HOW COME I'M STILL CONFUSED? -- AN AFTERNOON LISTEN TO DRY-ROT I'll spare you all some sorta silly piano intro and just say I think Santa Barbara's Dry Rot might be the most intriguing music group in America today. Their first seven song seven inch entitled 'Permission' was released sometime in the summer/fall area of last year and was utterly confusing. The first side consisted of six quick jabs that actually waranted the name checks of Void, Deep Wound and Child Abuse (The band from long ago who released a single on Mutha, not the pee-pee pants noise band from now) The other side was this real long jam that just sounded like a lost meander from 'Daydream Nation'. Was this the same record? Most who I played it to just shook their heads in question, but I was right there with them. I played the record over and over gazing into the lyric sheet that accompanyed the thing. Who are these guys with their bizarro, cryptic doodlings of fat old men barfing in peoples' faces? What kind of person would write lyrics like 'Don't touch me or I'll bite your fingers off!'? Why did they feel it was improtant to know the single was recorded the day after Hitler's 117th birthday? Even though I have touched base with a member or two of the band and I'm still left curious....

Then what comes in the mailbox yesterday but their new two song single on the Deer Healer label. Limited to 300, already long gone in it's one week in the virtual public eye known as the interweb...too bad suckers! This was the first in a long, long time that I was about to throw something on the turntable and not know what to expect. That was a good feeling. The A Side was a jam featuring a cameo by a member of Sublime (on sax) and the singers' dad on bass. It sounded like a very inept/simplistic (take your pick) take on 'The Great Gig In The Sky'. This was far from the world of puking old men drawings and finger biting. I actually listened to it again to make sure I heard it right. I've listened to it a few times since then and I'm still not sure if I did. The B Side was a perfect fit with me right off the bat. A weirder, more Psychedelic slowburner with random organ whirls poking in and out. The jam eventually erupts into a total freak-out throb that would scare the pants off anyone...even you over there with the turtleneck sweater and the leggings. To think what they might come up with on their next single (To be released on Painkiller) is making me hafta squegee my thoroughly handsome bald head every ten minutes. They'll be around the east coast in August to play, so hopefully I'll see ya there. Look out for me...I'll be the thoroughly ugly guy with the thoroughly handsome bald head.

I'm pretty sure Painkiller still has copies of the first single for sale. They might get a few copies of the new one in a few weeks...who knows? Check it out--

Saturday, May 26, 2007

WHO ME? ...I'M JUST GETTIN' MELLOW WITH MY MERKIN TO THIS COTTON CASSETTE... A few weeks back, the kids behind the Bone Tooth Horn cassette label gave me a big yellow sack fulla tapes they put out. All of it was truly twisted and I was more than happy they were kind enough to fork it along. But there was one tape in that bag that just didn’t jive with the rest of the mix. Where as the bulk of the tapes had me wandering in a tinned out basement full of sharp friendly objects, there was one outta the pack simply entitled ‘Cotton’ that made me think of that big ole house we used to have over on Nichol Ave. in Brunfess around ‘96. That was the house I self taught myself a musical history that was very abnormal for a kid who was jumping on kids heads just a few years before that. Sides by the likes of Mighty Baby, Little Feat, McKay, Help Yourself, Laramie, Quiver, The Sutherland Brothers, Cochise, Formerly Fat Harry, Gary Higgins, Poco, Brinsley Schwarz, Red Television and many other mellow beardos spun as I smoked more and more grass and wished I had a denim couch. What clicked between me and those easy sounds I cannot put my finger on even to this day. All I know is it sounded right at the time (still does I guess) and it pissed the shit out of every member of Lifetime who’d come over to buy pot…so it must have had SOMETHING going for it… Rest assured, if I had any jams by this mystery band who called themselves Cotton back then, they would have been rocked for sure.

After abit more digging, I found out Cotton were a unit out of Fayetteville, Arkansas in the late seventies. Much like the fore mentioned McKay, they were stuck in the middle of America with a love for the laid back Laurel Canyon sound, but luckily held limited resources to recreate those overblown affairs. Much like the limeys who fell in love with the same sounds, Cottons’ melodious ways come off both subtle and skewed. As a matter of fact, the vibe on a lot of this reminds me of that unreleased Help Yourself album from ’73 that was eventually…uh…released on CD by Hux a few years back. Here’s to Kevin at Bone Tooth Horn for getting this out to the masses and here’s to anyone who can score me a copy of this actual LP. Could it be you? Could it? For more info on Cotton, check this out --

Huh…just took a look at the BTH site and it sez this particular title is sold out, but I’m sure if you beg nicely, something could be done... Get in touch here --

Until then, all I gotta say is bar….bar…bar…barba…barbeque!

Sunday, May 20, 2007


Wednesday, May 16, 2007

A SOUNDTRACK WHILE YOU PERFECT YOUR KEGSTAND FOR NO FUN... Let it be known Highland Park, New Jersey's (and future DeStijl recording artist) King Darves will be showing up on my radio show tonight/this morning to strum and spin. Shit airs 2 am to 6 am est at For those with jobs and lives, the show will be archived for future pleasure. Enjoy...

Also, I guess I should also let it be known I'll be DJing the opening night of No Fun Fest tomorrow. What I'll play...I really don't know, but I'm sure it'll be shitty. Come up and say 'Hi'. I might be in a good mood depending on what kinda candy you got. If you gotta Take 5 bar, I'm all yours...

Friday, May 11, 2007

Jesus Christ…the amount of seven inches I’ve accumulated in the past year is sorta puzzling. I don’t think I’ve been this single crazy since my short pants daze. I won’t get into my usual tail chasing of trying to figure out ‘why’, I’ll just talk about them and you can buy them if you want. What can I say? I’m a great guy. Buy me a drink next time you see me.

ImperialiSt Pigs are a unit I feel pretty stupid not knowing anything about up until now. Containing a pre-Poison Idea Tom Roberts (A.K.A. Pig Champion), they existed in Portland in the very early 80’s way before ole Piggy would start making late night phone calls to The Fix’s Steve Miller. This single of recently unearthed recordings of the band entitled ‘Corkscrew Porksword’ is real fucking intriguing. Obviously some of the early L.A. proto-core singles were making their way down the pike to Oregon at the time, ‘cause you could pretty much tag this as some lost ‘Bloodstains’ gem if you were blindfolded and force fed carpet samples. To make the situation even more confusing, it seems this has been released on the recently re-erected (duh) Fatal Erection label, home of all the early P.I. sides. Huh… By the by, lyrics about molesting children and sperm facials noted and accounted for.

The beardos over at the Black Velvet Fuckere label just dropped this pretty boss single by The Touched. The details on who exactly these jokers are is pretty slim, but taken at face value, it’s a pretty potent glob of warped garage rock. The vocalist has a cool non-Biafra warble to his delivery and the whole thing sounds like it was recorded at the bottom of a flooded well. One of the guys in the band is grabbing his crotch on the cover and I find that very endearing for some reason at the present moment. So heed this recommendation before my mood dips back into asshole mode…

One of my favorites outta all these little records I’ve done gotten lately has been this eight songer from Albany, New York’s Acid Reflux. This record is yet more proof that ’retro’ is nothing more than a five letter word made up by assholes who’d rather sniff each others’ butts than remove their brains outta their bread bin. Trust me, I’m the last motherfucker who wants to relive the days of ‘goof core’ (If you had to sit through Adrenalin O.D. as much I did, you’d feel the same way) but for some reason, the combination of this units’ blinding thrash and completely retarded lyrics has made me more than happy to be alive the past few days. Songs like ‘Do Your Parents Know You’re A Ramone?’ and ‘Oh Good, There’s An Applebees’ make me wanna throw my head outta my bedroom window and feel the whiz of stray bullets around my head more so than any Frederic Rzewski or Miller Anderson record I’ve played today (Nothing against either gent, of course) Hey, the same crap that was happening THEN is happening NOW, so why not party and scream in the abstract face of total shitdom? Right? Darn tootin’ you know I’m right. Where was I again? Oh yeah…put down that phony fucking hippy bullshit record and buy this from the totally estimable No Way imprint.

I got another single from Cleveland’s Midnight. There’s some sorta big story around them I’m sure. I know they have some connections with Boulder or some sorta horseshit. All I know is this new single of theirs “Midnight Slay The Spits’ is a record I like to play nice and loud like when the neighborhood kids are outside playing with stolen wheelchairs and weapons. The opening track, ‘Nuclear Bomb’, is like some unholy hybrid of the first few singles on both the No Future and Rip Off labels. The rest of the tracks are no slouches themselves, but that one…whew, it’s both a scorcher and a keeper. Stupidly limited with a total cheapo cover, this is the kinda stuff that gives me the hope I need to put on matching socks in the morning.

Like a complete Growing fan (i.e. -- a faggot) I totally missed Italy’s Out With A Bang when they bombarded our country with B.O. and drugs a month back. What can I say? I was too busy mellowing out in the hills of Taos while they installed the hot tub in my crystal mansion, O.K.? Luckily I scored a copy of the e.p. they released to coincide with the tour with the oh-so-endearing title ’Few Beers Left, But Out of Drugs’. This record ups the ante of the previous release in a no-nose holes-barred barrage of frenzied Punkin’ with the brains removed (of course). You remember those reviews Pushead used to write in the old issues of MRR? Well, obviously I do too… Would these guys be offended if I said they reminded me of those first two Yah Mos singles? The Yah Mos? Where the hell did that come from? How do I remember them? Yeez, these seven inches are worse than seeing an old girlfriend…Drudging up memories (maybe) best left in the crawlspaces of the brain. Anywhos…

California’s Shoot It Up are always having their name bandied about by the hip young Punker kids I invite over for candy and drugs, but I was too busy trying to play them my King Crimson live CD’s to really pay that much attention. This new six song e.p. of theirs really makes me feel like a stupe for not paying attention sooner. Yeah, yeah, yeah…those same three chords will always sound ’timeless’ when recorded into a tape recorder with some guy squealing over it, but the fact these guys have the nerve to release this on vinyl is enough reason to fly over there and give ‘em all syringes fulla boat cleaner free of charge. This goes beyond the realm of obnoxious punk into something that both pleases and frightens me at the same time. The day someone with the name of Oscillating Gizzards or whatever can do the same, I’ll eat a fat free smoothie.

You can acquire most of this shizz from the kids at No Way, Check ’em out here --

Now let me die in peace…