Monday

nazz

...bein' a colonial take on th' mid six oh mod 'n freakbeat comin' outta merrie olde england...some slammin' rockers 'n a coupla slower tunes for variation...some good guitar injections with a pumped 'n cuttin' sound that certainly repays when th'amps're hot 'n set on #11 which o' course they should always be when some crunchin' rockers are doin' th'business (in fact theres an interestin' urgency 'n squealy vibe to th' production thats real cool 'n doesn't sound like most american disks o' th' time)...some real tight playin'n if these cats had been from olde london towne they'd wowed th' whizzed up tickets in th' cellars no bout adoubt it...top quality waxin'n thats th'truth...

...these 2 waxs bein' #2 'n #3 were accordin' to legend supposedly th' gear this combo were workin' on to make a nifty double biscuit extravaganza just like th' fabs had been doin' but th'suits got there first 'n put out some tunes as th'second platter, then th'third crept out...all this without th' bands knowledge who were out doin' th'road work, gettin' to th'fans...probably th' best numbers are th'ones that rip th' riffs from th' first wax'n they surely are worth another go round, after all, got a good riff why use it only once?...some tunes are definitely ideas'n stuff thats gonna crop up in th'early 70s on todd solo works so here we get proto-runtism...dig th' last trk on th' second disc with its collision o' ideas...all pretty good stuff but may need a few spins, specially th'third, but all in all these are a good summin' up o' th'past angloism modpop/phillysoulcroonin for th' future...

left end

...from th'cover inward this is th'off kilter sum o' their influences, with new york dolls meet th'stones beggars on th'cover(dig th'cat on th'right lookin' like prime time pigpen with his hat/hair/drink), th'vocalist bein' th'geezer from AC/DC one minute to somethin' akin to vocalizin' for losers like styx'n other low rent mid seventies proggers...th'music is a train wreck o' led zeppelin/blue oyster cult'n aforementioned AC/DC'n much appreciated by all stoner layabouts who found copies(warped or not) in th'cut-out bins in record/electrical stores 'n other trustworthy emporiums who once upon a time came up with th'goods, something that dont happen in this day with th'finalisin' o' one world corporate state, plus th'releases today're redundant copies before th'sale begins, its now worthless even for free...again this is one that needs to be played a few times owin' to th'said vocalists minor gymnastical assaults but overall a worthy addition to th'pile o' good grist that came outta th'ohio area a few years back(1974)...

david werner

...arrivin' in velvet satin tat came davids first go at bein' a glam star along th'lines o'bowies 'sold th'world' period mixed in with some mottism aswell as fey ballads that hark back to an earlier psychedelic period with some orchestrated cream-tea-sike with th'ghost o' beatle george hangin' out gettin' groovy...dig trk7 with its joe byrd electronic backin'...RCA no doubt had visions o' sellin' this cat to suburban roobs as some kinda watered down, less troublesome lou reed who was flippin' out after moderate success as a pop star ridin' with bowie, scorin' hit records in euroland'n generally gettin' his tough guy poetic groove on...less overt in th'camp department than jobraith who was struttin' his stuff at this time, this cat looked more like a dandy from another temporal juncture, theres a certain ambiguity to where his style might actually lie both in th'wardrobe aswell as th'musician front...david bein' young at th'time this was let loose made th'differin' styles merge unselfconscious as its his dreams mixin' with th'substance o' his influences...this is definitely rock/glam as opossed to glam rock, more hard than th'pop o' fellow glamourpus brett smiley,theres a raspberries vibe goin' on,sorta bowie/ian hunter frontin' th'cleveland fab ones...fantastic wax that fits th'mid sevnties landscape without any problems, sits extremely well with its peers'n outstrips many a glammin' pretender both then'n anytime th'lipstick comes out...

alex chilton

...when alex got around to recordin' this wobbly wax th' lost weekends had been mountin' up like so many crates o' discarded imported beer bottles...he was in sauce town 'n it looked like th'only way up was down...when this arrived in th' racks most johnny come-lately-cats were o' th'opinion that it was th'work o' a 'lost it all nobody' but o' course that was because there was no sept. gurls style tunes or anythin' approachin' that but they thought that as an after th' fact trendy when before hand hardly anyone got into big star even though they clogged th'cutout bin for a couple o' years back in 73/4/5...no, this is r'n'b/rockabilly/lost'n lonesome times on a very wet stonedout 'n wined up memphis 4 a.m sunday mornin' when th' strange ones roam...

albert ayler

...cats hep to gettin' down with some free spirit jazzbo grooves but need somethin' a little lighter than some o' th' scrunchin' skrunky skronk that comes from th' avant cellar could do no worse than lend a lobe to this '64 outin' from one o' th' masters o' post bop cosmic splatter...not so heavy'n taxin' as some, this is a good primer for neophytes aswell as a great listen for th' more seasoned'n hardy jazz head...dig th' noise gearin' up to what would get cuboid critics in a slashin' whirly lather o' know-nothin'ess until th'whole shebang blew itself out in a freeform frenzy in th' early 70's...as usual with a lot o' these free blowin' cats th'remnants o' earlier jazzin' vibes (such as new orleans funeral marches etc.) can be detected here 'n there, addin' th' old to rebuild'n remodel for th'new...

miles davis

...4 nights o' voodoo funk, th'uncut variety, taped in june '70 in NYC at th' home o' east coast commercial hippy, th'fillmore...miles was bop kickin' th' noise into new places at every opportunity in th' early seven ohs 'n here is a side for each night...th'sets're diced'n spliced into neatly compact 25 minute blasts which can drag down to th'scrapin' bone, cats needin' th'whole set but tape cutups was part o' th'recorded miles experience...dig miles workin' th'combo as another instrument'n takin off for uncharted territory...this is a knockout deal...

loading zone

...from san francisco , back in th'day these jazzy hippy cats laid down a solid offerin' o' horn rock with plenty o' soul 'n R'n'B flavor to keep it flowin'...doesn't completely connect on first or second hearin' but run it through a few times'n gradually th' juice is rinsed out'n th' whole thing perculates real nice...loading zone were regular on th' ballroom scene in ol' frisco 'n a cat can see that they kicked it with a mighty roar live...

Thursday

no new york

...this disk caused a fair amount o' fuss'n palaver when it appeared back around 78,th'newly emerged punkers didn't dig th'angular squonk'n shronk,live wire electric shock guitar noise'n all round arty show-off as it appeared to them...hippys'n college heavy rockers didn't go for it cos it was way too punk,squares didn't know it existed, indeed th'only cats who were gettin' anythin' from it in th'short term at least was a few forward lookin' young jazzbo heads like 'bobo' shaw'n 'blood' ulmer(in th'long term th'post punk movement was taken from this along with equal parts 'ROCK IN OPPOSITION style combos/captain beefheart/avant disco)...th'4 bands here bein' th'contortions with james chance/teenage jesus with lydia lunch/MARS/D.N.A,each addin' their own individual touch to this new radical departure in th'rock'nroll game,though not so new cos this was part o' a long tradition o' teenagers('n older) pickin' up th'instruments they were drawn to'n could afford'n bangin' out their own version o'what was happ'nin' around them in frantic adrenaline rush bravado...th'contortions come forth with mutant clangin' funk with JB shrieks all swirlin' round in ever decreasin' circles,teenage jesus provide striped down velvets thud complete with ear scrapin' cymbalringin'/MARS join in with dissonant urban swamp voodoo'n D.N.A complete th'quartet with some clever art bangin' clatter...all th'bands have a careless urgency buildin' all through their contribution,a windin' up o' imaginary coils to be let loose,shudderin' into th'ether, showerin' th'NO WAVE goodness upon waitin' ears...an LP full o' back alley rainy night puddles ripplin' round discarded needles that once dispensed low grade government smack, a grimey twilight o' shadows that hold secrets o' escape to unmapped semi conscious dreams...a corner stone o' post punk racket from sonic youth/birthday party/fire engines'n countless funky noise makers to this day,a splatter platter o' bold'n far reachin' proportions...for any cats with th'ears for some noise will wanna freak with wax'n thats no mistake, whats on this disk has'nt really been better'd, even by th' participants, its a happenin sound...

Wednesday

beau brummels

...sufferin' from th'fact they arrived early on th'scene as some yanquee answer to th'fabs they never shook off bein' some kinda teenybop combo...when it came to gettin' with th'new music that was happ'nin in 66/67 they weren't taken seriously by th'underground 'n their original fans had moved on to other concerns...this disk was hyped as a concept, no doubt gettin' that idea from pepper, its a cool orchestrated folky psych biscuit that needs a few spins 'n works a real boffo treat on th' ol' headphones...

...beau brummels, frisco hippy folkies record deep inside enemy territory, nashville, home o' reactionary forces, beer drinkin' squares who weren't known for bein'receptive to new ideas, especially ideas concernin'freedom, musical'n otherwise...this fits in snuggly with other left o' centre folk grooves with outward lookin' artiness like th'stone ponies/hearts'n flowers'n to a lesser degree hep cats like van dyke parks, certainly not th'sorta biscuit that would necessarily get th'green light down nashville way but there in '68 th'brummels plied their mystical hippy magic to come up with this otherworldly vibe that certainly aint got too much to do with country rock that this often gets called, country influences're there but not in any heavy cowboy/good ol'boy sense, this is a tripped out art splurge, weavin' patterns in eternity...

beacon street union

...another one o' those beantown crews that got caught up in th'bosstown palava o' th'late six ohs which ruined many fine combos, this thing starts off real cool with some exploito style hyped chat intoducin' a sears roebuck rendition o' psychedelicness...great heavyhanded use o' stereo with th'producer jammin' th' faders up/down/sideways 'n anyways possible...th'second trk is some bonkers garage r'n'b with super hypnotic stereo pannin' piano...elsewhere raga influenced ballroom distorto guitar riffin' comes on strong aided with hep poundin' drums that keeps th'whole shebang nice 'n lively...overall a chipper LP o' transition-ness when garage riffin' met funky organ swells 'n fuzzy trance guitar slashin'...much better than some psychrock snobs would have th'unsuspectin' believe...great wax, very worthy o' spin time...

...second effort from these beaners was recorded in late '67 'n shows a maturity with this bein' a work o' rock with some psych moves 'n orchestral bits 'n bobs...there also lies th'problem for some cats who are wary o' th' word maturity when its in th'vacinity o' th'rock'n'roll vibe...th' first disk was punk'd out psych riffin' 'n poundin' whereas this later wax loses th'punk groove 'n stretches out to th' more new rock sound that was comin' into its own by '68...th'main claim o' this disk is th' 17minute 'baby please dont go' over on th'second side which may need a reefer to help it along but fairly ok anyways...may need a few spins for it to work some charm...

paul kantner

...top blabber lastin' a good two'n half hours from paul as he gives th'lowdown on all things plane...from th'early coffee house days to monterey to altamont to th'starship fiasco'n all points inbetween cats can dig th'long strange trip...taped in th' first two months o' 96 by harvey kubanik this makes for a groovy addition to any west coast heads understandin' o' those different times...

jesus and mary chain

...a lotta combos who claim th'velvets as primo influence usually point to th' third album or th'soft trx on th'first as an excuse as to why their own 'rocknroll' is fulla weak 'rocked' ballads...another thing is that they dont even sound like th'velvets'n most probably dont really like them...th'eighties was fulla these namby-pamby outfits goin' nowhere fast hopin' to con any unsuspectin' cats outta some geetus...th'chain were one o' th'few who understood that to dig lou's crew was to gather up th'ballads, inject some life into 'em'n cover th'whole shebang in a sister ray feedback riffarama...this first spillage o' hotcha grooves was one o' th'finest (high profile) wax from that sorry decade, boltin' louisms to stooge slop'n givin' some shadow morton echo blasts into th'red...over 2decades down th'pike 'n this biscuit is still a fine 'n dandy skreeech fest o' high gutter beauty...

faces

...rod th'mod, th'small faces(minus steve)with woody equals one hotcha rockin' combo frothin' with good vibes'n imbibes comin' on strong in santa monica late 1970...fashioned in threads from th'west london boutiques, showin' off their velvet funky finery they get down to th' order o' th'night, throwin' out R&B shoutin'n slide guitar moans laid over some reefered beer soaked country soul-rockin'...this will bring good cheer to embolden th'wine soaked spirit o' cats ready to succumb to th'new fundaments o' th'grooved up barroom rover...these cats got totally into th'GET BACK grooves that were goin' on with th'fab4/stones/humble pie, a return to no gimmics rockin', all th'psychedelic embroidery o' th'last coupla years had been striped away by bob'n th'band at th'big pink basement'n with th'fabs lookin' in a more roots direction in a last ditch attempt to stay together th'faces got right into this 'new' loose jammin' takin' cats back to th'earlier club days but in less dance regulated form...minglin' folk/blues/rock'n roll into a beery singalong th'faces caught on fast with live audiences out for a cool rockin' time'n this boot comes straight from an original TMoQ vinyl complete with some light wear'n tear as befittin' a biscuit that has supplied many beer'n bong late evenin' sessions with a funky soundtrk...dig th'ol'london towne blues as it ventured westward once more to spread th'message o'theres good rockin tonight...

grateful dead/john oswald

...this is th'deads dark star as never heard before or probably since as its made up from over one hundred performances from '69 thru '93...its a tape manipulation project o'gigantic proportions welded together by john oswald o' th'plunderphonics workshop...through advanced new fangle-dangle technology john cut'n pasted minute snippets from 24 years o'dark star groovin' to come up with th'ultimate temporal disruption o' live deadness...hear jerry get buzzin' with sonic string bendin' years apart glidin' harmoniously through th'cosmos over different drum patterns that fall into one chilled out earth beat...hours o'fun for all layabouts with th'quizzical ear tryin' to figure where one piece ends'n another begins...could ware down a cats stash its that addictive...a fine addition to th' mountain o'dead material clutterin' up most heads shelves...

spirtualized / E.A.R

...takin' drugs to make music to take drugs to...certainly a charge that can be laid at th' spiritualized door'n they'd be glad o' th'compliment...if ever a modern day collective knew how to connect up th'sounds o' th' byrds/velvets/country-soul/gospel/spacedout krautrock/chamber pop'n have it come out in a singular fashion then its these cats (or rather jason spaceman for in a lotta ways its his vision after leavin' spacemen3)...this first outtin' from th'early nineties shows all th'elements that would crop up in later waxin's, its a kinda run through for what would become th'sound as a whole concept...concept bein' th' operative word cos this disk is divided into four suites just like college prog from two decades previous...excellent lobe loobin' for those heavily green afternoons when stationery travellin' is a must...

...th' perfect accompaniment for when travellin' spaceways without or within'...dronin' drones with squiggles'n bleeps keepin' th'voyage on course for th'furthest reaches o' out-there-ness...very much soundin' like those avantcomputer LPs from th'60s 'n some seventies krautrock gettin' cozy together, does not in any way register as made in th'nineties (that would be more like frightful dullards playin' with technology)...its sonic boom(spacemen3)'n eddie prevost(AMM)'n some other cats gettin' down to over an hours worth o' groovy trancin' thats well nice when loafin' on afternoons o' greenleaf indulgence amongst th'ancient ones in high garrets above th'bustlin' metropolis...

love affair

...heres another late six oh combo that got entangled with rocksnobs 'n cuboid media hacks over th'stuff like they didn't play on th'disks 'n such matters but that dont detract from th' fact this is a top wax o' olde london towne mod blue eyed soul fronted by one o' th'great vocalists o' th' era...th' session cats'n femme vocals'n big production really fill out th'room with sound...benefits from gettin' spun at #11 on th'amp...does not disappoint 'n sounds fresh 'n alive...cats hearin' this for th'first time're in for a treat, 'n thats proper sweet...

sharon tandy

...this is one hotcha biscuit o' super groovy tuneage that no right thinkin' cat can ignore...it runs th'whole gamut o' six oh ideas from big beat pop to blue eyed soul, some o' which was recorded at stax but not released at th' time...freakbeat gets a look in when she worked with ace psych combo fleur de lys...not in chronological order which often can be a right turn off but here th'plan o' action works real well as th' whole thing is one swirlin' stew o' hep goodness...totally fab'n then some, real cool...

chris clark

...when motown records decided it was time in '69 to grab ahold o' some hippy bread they started a subsiduary called 'weed' 'n chris clark was transferred from th' parent company 'n given a hep underground make over...dig th' cover, shes lookin' like 'n extra from a spaghetti flick...th'tunes are covers o' th'day given a funky-stretched-out rock vibe, there some sound fx makin' a nice late '60's vibe, everything is nice 'n cooled out ready to cozy up'n beam outta some longhair stereo...it didn't happen, it was blanked by underground heads'n soul cats thought it was a sellout at best...its a real nice list'nin' experience'n repays a few plays...its obvious that th'cats playin' are th'motown superfluent studio crew havin' some fun workin' on this new lounge rockin biscuit 'n its a real drag she didn't make another LP after this one...it'd be super chipper if'n norman whitfield had produced it...that'd be swell...

merry clayton

...as with claudia lennear, merry clayton was an exemplary singer whose work remained mainly in th'background on disks by th'likes o' lee michaels/carole king/grin/phil spector/phil ochs/paul butterfield, givin' that oh so necessary soul wail makin' th'wax come alive, a top case in point would have to be th'stones blowout racket 'gimme shelter' o' which this solo joint was named...a cool waxin' with covers by th'NEW ROCK elite, stones(natch), van morrison/james taylor/doors/paul simon, all gettin th'funky laurel canyon gospel vibe that was hip currency at th'time, a cat can smell th'patchouli'n see th'ripped denim'n cheesecloth without too much effort...its a terrific opportunity to get down with th'groovyHEPfunk o' this cooled out sister, hear her testifyin' th'new day upfront, instead o' hired singer whose job was o' course to improve th'very nature o' th'sessions she was involved with...

elvis

...its been said that theres a little bit o' elvis in every cat out there across th' planet, all things to all men, cats'n otherwise diggin' some elvis, whatever period theres some rockin' goodness...in fact as to how all encompassin' th' king may be, any hepster givin' th' ballad bowl from th' movie period a scoop gonna see that when th' king launches into possibly dull'n lifeless songs theres still a magic goin' on, th'personality shines through like a beacon'n for many thats a beacon o' hope from th' anointed one, anointed by his peers'n contemporaries...dedication was th'watchword at recordin' sessions, elvis always had to get on top o' a tune(if not necessarily into a tune on th' whack ones he hadda do sometimes due to connivin'n finaglin' from col. tom'n his record co. cronies)otherwise it didn't happen, it was discarded, another take took place til th' king was satisfied...this dedication was recognised by th' teens'n they got hep to all things that th'memphis cat had on offer...over th'years th' audience came'n went, times changed'n then th' king was back in 68 blowin' up a singular storm o' lounged out rockin', exactly what th' original fans woulda wanted then, adult entertainment for th'50's generation stuck in th' middle o' vietnam/hippy madness...then into th' seventies with more'n more amphetamine/morphine madness takin' his concerts into some kinda netherworld, a psychedelic cocktail land full o' gin daiquiris for th'suburban legions who were floodin' to th' gigs, gettin' th' ultimate buzz that'll send 'em to gonesville(relatively speakin')...its true that there ain't nothin' like an elvis presley concert'n this boot from his second to last gig shows to good effect that testimony to good rockin'...recorded 06/25/77 in cincinnati by an enterprisin' audience members from england it all starts with a smatterin' o' grooves from th' openin' acts(th' kings backin' singers)'n then when elvis is ready his theme tune bursts through th' P.A.'n th' crowd erupts, like beatlemania all over again, th' girls screach'n scream like theres no tomorrow...even at this late date in his medicated burger career th' power is there, full on no stoppin' him, th' fans're wild for sight'n sound o' th' greatest entertainer o' th'20th century...hearin' this gig from a casette player deep in th' audience is a wild trip, takin' th' list'ner deep into ELVIS-WORLD,into th' cavernous belly o' th' beast where th' intrusive outside is forgotten, locked away from disturbance...cats who aint really heard too much elvis might need to adjust th' parameters o' list'nin' cos th' kings gigs aint like a normal rock gig, aint like no lifeless nightclub schlock, its outside th' ordinary by virtue o' its extraordinary ordinary, unquantifiable/unqualifiable, in a class o' its own, number one in a field o' one, never comparible cos nothin' comes close...elvis' command o' showbiz was like no other, its a natural vibe from a real cat, who its gotta be remember'd had no ten-plate to work from, its happnin' on a weirder scale than any previous star/celebrity due to th' unprecedented scale o' communication open through television, TEEVEE blasted th' king into an orbit that aint stopped for half a century, th' king is everywhere from exploitation nonsense to university thesis'n all points in between, all worthy because its all connected, one thing leads to another, there aint no good/bad elvis, its beyond such bougrgesoise concerns, theres no competition in ELVISworld, everyones a winner cos th' king digs his fans to th' upmost, always wonderin' what it was they saw in him, what made him click like no other, th' king could never figure it out(no one else cared),th' memphis cat always had time for th' real people, th' place where th' king originates, deep within th' underclass, th' downtrodden, th' cats jipped by squares with cash sellin' dreams, elvis turned that round th' dream he sold was real as real cos its so unreal, as said nothin' compares cos there aint no competition cos elvis is everywhere, bein' everyone/everythin' at th' same time...dig th' cover with its exploitation graffic, true gonesville beyond any concerns o' good'n bad, it communicates on all levels, blendin' in whilst standin' out, is it to be any more than what it is, a gate way to th' otherside o' HEP where it all blends into high art trailer trash livin' on a LAS VEGAS cash blowout...dig this trip from th' end days for its all about to become planet ELVIS here-on-in...

DMZ

...those dyed in th'wool rockin' heads, those back room layabouts who're only diggin' th'hoodlum end o' a good tune, those in this day'n age who still look to th'first DMZ LP through those squinty peepers'n listen only a half cocked ear will be glad for th'infomation this waxin' is probably more to their taste...buzzin' attack guitars, elevators/pretty things covers 'n iggy madman-possessed vocals plus rattlin' tambourine, thuddin' skins all skimmin' round in a 'crawdaddy stones in orbit' blow-out...theres still million'n one combos round th'planet who're tryin' to perfect this racket not knowin' its been formed'n patented by this leather jacket gang from th'back alleys o' yesteryear...