Now that they've let this loose on the net I might as well pass it along. Big Zit have been tearing up midwest basements over the past year and it's about time you heard em. Other people have already said this but I'll repeat it in agreement: these are some of the most freaked-out vocals I've heard in quite a long time. Really excellent tunes, especially the first one; it's no surprise that this band shares members with Ooze because they're both so fukkin groovy. To add to my general disorientation upon first popping this in my tape deck, the last song on my copy is a magnetically-degraded version of "Voice of Q" ... this band is a total cultural assault.
Here's a bit of weirdo psych-folk for the proud losers to jam on this Friday night. Tommy Jay is one of the pioneers of the Central Ohio underground. He and a few other outsiders like Mike Rep formed some of that state's first punk bands in the early-mid '70s, carrying the torch of Lou Reed and the 13th Floor Elevators on through the '80s to light the way for everyone from Guided By Voices to Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments to Pink Reason. But don't take it from me, take it from the anonymous crowdsourced writeup I found on lastfm:
Tommy Jay is legendary — whether writing songs and playing drums for Mike Rep & the Quotas (or The True Believers farther back), or collaborating on a number of Nudge Squidfish self-releases — but even as an equal in the now legendary Ego Summit, his contemporaries' main projects (V-3, Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments, Bassholes) outshined Jay’s dark horse status. Only now does one realize that his "Novocaine" was the fulcrum of the entire project. He was the poignant, coherent, folkie among a barn full of well-medicated genius.
The balance between these crisp psych-folk nuggets and direct contact with the lunatic fringe (be it “little black jelly beans,” blotter, or blue oyster cults) make cult record Tall Tales Of Trauma a rewarding time warp through twelve years of Central Ohio lore. In the record’s earliest documents (circa ‘74, Timberlake) The Velvet Underground’s influence is obvious, not just on the cover of Ocean but also in "I Was There," a jangly, kaleidoscope of bittersweet pop that never edits his repeated guitar freak-outs. Into the 80’s the specter of Lou Reed (or perhaps more referentially precise, the echoes of Mayo Thompson) loomed large in Jay’s voice, phrasing, and tragic moods evoked, still the mysticism of Harrisburg is the overwhelming resonate. May I be crucified for such statement, but Tall Tales is infinitely more colorful and strange than any Reed solo venture (save Berlin), because it’s the quirky folk record Reed never made. It tip-toes around Indian burial grounds, abuses cheap-drug in dingy basements, chronicles the lives of gypsies, tramps, thieves, murderers, the village idiot and the quintessential anti-hero in all of us (who may or may not still live on Weber Rd.).
Back to that lunatic fringe — the cast of characters Jay surrounded himself with give the songs their creepy (and often beautiful) skin. Squid’s pedal-steel synth on "Memories" transforms it into dim-lit neon honky-tonk or the flute and harmony provided by Jennifer Eling and Mike Rep respectively on the Joni Mitchell cover "Dreamland" is the closest thing to Laurel Canyon sunshine these ears have heard in the Columbus Discount Records pantheon.
Fans of the more acoustic-y side of J.T. IV would be well-advised to get ahold of this one. For more on the Central Ohio underground, see this post on WFMU's Beware of the Blog.
Total Trash came thru town a coupla weeks ago on the tail end of their recent tour. They slayed the room with crunchy riffs and winning stage/floor presence. Their 7" is out right about now, and while it's good, this tape from earlier in the year wins out coz it's a little more raw and angry (to my ear). Plus they do a Germs song on this one. Besides Wild Child, Total Trash are probably the best thing Minneapolis has going right now as far as this ignorant monk can tell. Shambling punk with dynamic (a)-melodic vocals and a guitar that sounds inspired by Bitch Magnet. And they know how to draw you in with a slow tune without it getting stale, as evident on the last track "Know." All-around solid release.
You can get through their bandcamp, pay-what-you-want for digital or cough up a few bones for the actual tape.
When these punks rolled through Champaign last month people went wild for it. Definitely one of the best shows I've seen in town in quite a while. Snotty tunes by people who know how to beat you on the head with groovy punk rhythms and treat yer mind to excellent pop melodies. Somebody on their bandcamp likened the sound to Mika Miko, which isn't real accurate but not totally off either. Hardly an unfavorable comparison in any case. Slut River are further proof -- if you needed any -- that Iowa City has an excellent scene despite (or because of) its prairie isolation. Get this one.
The actual 7" has five songs on it, while the digital version has seven with a slightly different song order. I'm going off the physical release but I bet the other songs are just as good. Just make sure to spin it at 33 1/3 unless you wanna hear chipmunk vocals.
Gonna make this a quick one, coz I'm driving down to St. Louis to see these freaks play with Dawn of Humans tonight. If you've been paying any attention at all, you already know Lumpy & the Dumpers are one of the active best bands in the midwest, if not the country. Hell, at this point they've got bands in cool-guy towns like New York ripping off their sound. This 7" continues in the vein of their previous cassette releases, twisting hardcore punk out of its stale formulae and injecting an unhealthy dose of slime muck. All three songs on here are rippers, but if I had to pick, I'd go with the last one.
Anyway, this is up on bandcamp for pay what you want, but as with all of Martin's visual art this is one you should really get a physical copy of.
Been meaning to put this up for a while. The late '80s were a peak for the Ex. By then they'd honed a nimble, unconventional post-punk groove and on this record they throw some noisy weight behind it. These songs sound like machines the band built: lurching forward at a seemingly haphazard pace, but masterfully steered by drummer Katherina Bornefeld. At sharp turns the guitars spill feedback out over the sides, creaking and sputtering and screaming. Combined with Sok's defiant agitprop shoutspeak, which goes well beyond base sloganeering, the result sounds almost weaponlike, corny as it feels to say. Comes together real well on "Carcass," maybe my favorite tune on here. I don't feel like going on about it since in my mind the Ex need no introduction, but if you're not familiar with them, this is a pretty ideal place to start since it's relatively straightforward. If you dig this, see if you're up for their musique concrète double-album Joggers and Smoggers, released a year later.
Whatever kind of alienation I might experience in
the bland drunken cornfield that is a Big Ten college town, I have to
imagine it's orders of magnitude worse in North
Dakota. That backwater state seems to be coming
up more and more in the news, as cannibalistic oil conglomerates
sniff around for new sources of global warmth for the rest of us to
bake in. They're already burning off enough crude for the flames to
be visible
from space. Meanwhile, regressive politicians play off their constituents' latent rural misogyny to close the state's one abortion clinic, tugging the nation backwards with the most stringent ban in the country.
Enter Nora & the Janitors, slamming their head against a brick wall of willful ignorance in the most listenable
way possible. These two tunes bounce along somewhat like Orange
Juice, but instead of said band's carefree joviality, this reeks of the bitter resignation I associate with '80s Siberian
punks like GrOb or Yanka. It can't be easy to work such desperate
howling -- with lines like "fell asleep, it was July // woke up, it was November // did I kill that cop? I can't
remember" -- into synthed-out, guitar-driven pop songs and
have it come off as well as it does. I dunno, people will probably
compare this to the Smiths, but I get the feeling that's not where Nora et al are coming from. Whatever it
is, I've had "Banister" on repeat for weeks now, and have yet to tire of it.
Maybe my favorite song of 2013 so far. I shouldn't even be devoting
this much text to a two-song single. But this stuff really affected
me, and it deserves a wider audience.
These two songs are coming
out on a tape split with a Minneapolis band I can't find any
information on. For now, get this single at N&tJ's bandcamp.
Yes, that's a Colgate-Hindenburg doing a Led Zeppelin -- enter Toothpaste, Chicago's Masters of Provocative Funk. This is their first of two releases, an EP recorded in late 1982 and released on Schwa Records, which also put out a 7" by a later incarnation of Silver Abuse around the same time. This 12" EP, recorded at the old Chess Records building on South Michigan Avenue, is a worthy example of the satirical/weird side of Chicago punk. The EP came out toward the tail end of the city's first wave of punk bands, and sounds nothing like the ossified, macho hardcore ritual that predominated by mid-decade (thanks a lot, Effigies/Raygun copycats). Instead, you get swirling guitars -- evoking new-wave on the one hand, early-'80s Bob Mould on the other. "Amerikan Beauties" mockingly apes the opening riff from "Pretty Woman." One minute they're singing blithely about the occupation of Palestine, next thing you know they're groaning about hardware as some kind of metaphor for fucking, or for American prudishness, or something. Toothpaste holds a mirror up to the banal tropes of Midwestern culture, its silly excuses for counterculture, and a Cold War too absurd to care about anymore. But nobody's looking anyway; probably Toothpaste was too absurd to care about. But they're precious currency for a certain type of weirdo, you know who you are. The video below gives you some idea, though the tune sounds more like Special Affect or End Result than what's on the EP:
The blog I Have a Brain in My Ass has video up of Toothpaste's set at the 2010 Riot Fest Busted at Oz reunion ... honestly they sound pretty stiff and uninspired, but if you're already a fan and need to hear some songs that never made it to record, check it out.
I don't know how I have gone so many months without posting this record. It differs from what people are stuck calling 'the blues' in that the songs mostly ride along and hop over a single chord in bopping, fingerpicked strides. Robert Pete Williams played some top-shelf southern/delta shit and his story is as fascinating as any bluesman's:
Discovered in the Louisiana State Penitentiary, Robert Pete Williams
became one of the great blues discoveries during the folk boom of the
early '60s. His disregard for conventional patterns, tunings, and
structures kept him from a wider audience, but his music remains one of
the great, intense treats of the blues.
Williams
was born in Zachary, Louisiana, the son of sharecropping parents. As a
child, he worked the fields with his family and never attended school. Williams
didn't begin playing blues until his late teens, when he made himself a
guitar out of a cigar box. Playing his homemade guitar, Williams
began performing at local parties, dances, and fish fries at night
while he worked during the day. Even though he was constantly working,
he never made quite enough money to support his family, which caused
considerable tension between him and his wife; according to legend, she
burned his guitar one night in a fit of anger.
Despite all of the domestic tension, Williams
continued to play throughout the Baton Rouge area, performing at dances
and juke joints.
In 1956, he shot and killed a man in a local club. Williams
claimed he acted in self-defense, but he was convicted of murder and
sentenced to life in prison. He was sent to Angola, where he served two
years before being discovered by ethnomusicologists Dr. Harry Oster and Richard Allen. The pair recorded Williams performing several of his own songs, which were all about life in prison. Impressed with the guitarist's talents, Oster and Allen pleaded for a pardon for Williams.
The pardon was granted in 1959, after he had served a total of three
and a half years.
For the first five years after he left prison, Williams
could only perform in Louisiana, but his recordings -- which appeared
on Folk-Lyric, Arhoolie, and Prestige, among other labels -- were
popular and he received positive word of mouth reviews.
In 1964, Williams played his first concert outside of Louisiana, at the legendary Newport Folk Festival. Williams' performance was enthusiastically received and he began touring the United States, often playing shows with Mississippi Fred McDowell. For the remainder of the '60s and most of the '70s, Robert Pete Williams
constantly played concerts and festivals across America, as well a
handful of dates in Europe. Along the way, he recorded for a handful of
small independent labels, including Fontana and Storyville.
Williams
slowed down his work schedule in the late '70s, largely due to
declining health. The guitarist died on December 31, 1980, at the age of
66.
Fans of Charley Patton or Robert Johnson would dig Williams, and probably know him already. If you've ever heard the Captain Beefheart song 'Grown So Ugly' (or, I guess, the Black Keys' cover of it), you'll recognize the original version here. Listen, I really shouldn't have to try to convince you; this is essential, and punk as it gets.
It's fun to watch a band develop their sound in the live realm. When I first started seeing Laughboy play, their songs were masked by opaque, blunt-force hardcore noise overload common to many young bands. Over the course of a couple years' worth of shows, a unique sound started to take shape. They've been billed as 'cosmic' or 'psychedelic' hardcore, and those descriptions seem apt enough on this cassingle released by Spotted Race. The three short songs contain frantic vocal howls cast amongst psychedelic guitar reverb, buttressed by a murky low end that hits like an asteroid collision. Whether on tape or on your computer, the songs have the raw, shitty hardcore fidelity you all know and love. Have a listen to the a-side, which personally I can't get enough of:
On April 13 Laughboy will be playing the Midwest Zine Fest aftershow with fellow C-U locals Chain's Gang and Unnerve. Like the Fest itself, the show will be at the Urbana Independent Media Center. Show starts at 8:00, fb details here for those who seek them.
Fuck. Where do I start with this comp? Ralph really outdid himself on this one. It's got nearly everybody on it: twenty-eight songs in forty minutes by seventeen bands from Chicago, the Midwest, the USA, THE WORLD. The record wastes no time, with an exciting start by Basque punks Hondartzako Hondakinak. I'd never heard of them before but I'm glad that's no longer the case. Further on in the comp the sounds run the whole spectrum, from the psycho-saturated ramonescore of Cülo to the power-pop punk of Tenement to the cosmic hardcore of NASA Space Universe to the angular UK palpitations of Good Throb to the raging Spanish-language thrash of Porkeria to the Minutemen-invoking funkiness of Big Crux ... if I don't stop here I'll just end up listing all the bands. But really, every cut is crucial. I should mention that this is Ooze's vinyl debut -- but don't worry, they haven't cleaned their sound up one bit.
Sample the tunes here, then buy a copy at Not Normal. For your own damn sake don't sleep on this one; the wax sounds great and it comes with a full-size 20-page booklet with band infos, lyrics, and some sick artwork. For what you're getting the price is a STEAL.
Saw these dudes open for Crazy Spirit back in January, and their set was early enough in the lineup that it didn't suffer from the ridiculous overcrowding that came after. Besides that they were one of the highlights of the night. Rapid, nihilistic drug-punk songs about the drone war and other things that tug at your angry damaged heartstrings. The six songs thrash by in less than five minutes that I know you can spare, punk. Give it a spin; if you dig it, email durso1753@gmail.com for a copy of the tape.
Debut cassette from Urbana Illinois featuring members of Kowabunga! Kid, Witch in Her Tomb, and Horrible Things, to name a few. Chain's Gang is of the new crop of
hardcore bands that have formed here in the past year. Not a lot of
bands can sound this heavy and snotty at the same time. Stomping pharmaceutical nightmare rhythms caked
with guitar muck and psych-punk fuzz. Keep an eye out for these reprobates;
you'll want to see them before they see you.
Write to Crippled Sound, for a copy of the tape. Website hasn't been updated in a while but I've seen that there's been a second pressing so they're still available.
So this is my penance for missing these dudes opening for Skrapyard and Iceage this weekend (Iceage played a pretty sweet set, though). Ooze is a band in Chicago/NWI. I know the guitar player was in the Outs and Night Fever but that's just off the top of my head. Oh, the singer played in Raw Nerve. Anyway, this is a somewhat hi-fi recording of what was something like their third show. Seven songs in just under nine minutes. What can I say? It's hardcore punk played by people who evidently breathe the stuff. Comparisons to Brown Sugar wouldn't be unwarranted; Ooze has a similarly swinging rhythm, and the instruments are played in a way that harkens back to older styles of rock and roll (they open the set with 'California Sun,' à la the Dictators/Ramones) while maintaining a manic hardcore pace. If you've seen these dudes play, you know to be excited about them. The audio comes from the video below.
For the sake of convenience I ripped the audio from the vid and broke up the tracks. Though I don't know what any of them are called. The cover art is from the gig flyer.
Quick, here's a Sonic Youth boot some of you maybe don't have. Recorded at the Metro in Chicago on October 14, 1987. Thanks to quality mic-placement, this is some real clanging, articulately shredded-up EVOL and Sister material from what is maybe my favorite period of this band. People forget Sonic Youth was a punk band, and this gig demonstrates it. The version of 'Death Valley '69' rages so hard that you forget it's missing Lydia Lunch's vocal part. Following a soaring version of 'Pacific Coast Highway' is a Ramones coverset encore.
The Japanese text on the cover inexplicably reads 'my mother went shopping.' Perhaps the band was studying up for their semi-upcoming 1988 tour of Japan.
