I THINK I HATE MY 45s

SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

2012-01-29T20:49:00.000-08:00

Fuck you, I'm back! New apartment, new pants, new record player! I have some boring 7"s on deck and will start reviewing them ASAP. Those pageviews are gonna be in the TWENTIES before I'm through.

Lovesliescrushing - Youreyesimmaculate

2011-08-13T18:19:00.000-07:00

(Projekt, 1994)

A song apiece from bloweyelashwish and the then-unreleased xuvetyn, on purple vinyl in a limited edition of, uh, 1000. The comparisons are easy here: like My Bloody Valentine and Cocteau Twins, maybe even the less aggressive moments of Flying Saucer Attack, it's all effects-heavy guitar and girl-voice rumble 'n' vroom, though largely avoiding drums and obvious/traditional song structure. Recorded on four-track, too, for maximum sonic bleed and speaker-rattle! A nice package for sure, but this music is actually best heard on CD, as everyone's least-favorite format does at least allow for 80 minutes of nonstop auditory immersion without mood-wrecking breaks to flip the 7" over. And, while we're at it, also VERY recommended is mastermind Scott Cortez's other project, Astrobrite, which retains the oceanic guitars of Lovesliescrushing while adding nifty pop elements to the soup. The first album was recently reissued on LP by some genius, and the only person smarter than that guy is ME because I went and ordered myself a copy the other night.

Los Llamarada - The Very Next Moment

2011-08-11T23:21:00.000-07:00

(S-S Records, 2007)

RAW! And probably the only Mexican slackfuck 7" in my collection. With its shit-sound abrasiveness and vaguely early-Stooge-ian boneheadedness, I actually prefer this stoned, careening -- yet tight enough -- bloomph over anything on the band's kickin ghettoblast debut LP, The Exploding Now, as it offers both better songwrite and noise-as-texture -- rather than just noise-as-noise -- while still retaining the nifty woo-hoo energy of the alb. And on the B, Brenda Lee's (not Peggy Lee, as credited on the sleeve, dudez) "I'm Sorry" is rendered pleasantly unrecognizable as a buzzing, caterwauling, midtempo clomper, all VU '66 rather than the familiar she-croon syrup. So that's swell. And very worth having.

I happened to see Los Llamarada live around the time of this release... remember them being fun and surprisingly young, and also remember accosting one ill-at-ease member at/to whom I insisted -- probably at length -- that I'd tried my best to get Prindle out to the show; they'd recently conducted an interview wherein they'd fluffed his site. I'd failed, though. Could I have tried better, That Guy from the band? Yes, there is no doubt. But still. Don't be mad. Listen to the B-side here and imagine it coming straight from my heart. PLEASE.

Bruce Lose - What's Your Name

2011-08-09T20:47:00.000-07:00

(Subterranean, 1983)

Well gosh, Bruce Loose loses an "O" to become "Bruce Lose", and then goes and LOSES the rest of Flipper while he's at it in order to become his very own solo guy for this one-off single. The cad! Recorded between Generic and Gone Fishin', it clearly features elements of both albums: you get the repetition of the former and the branch-out experimentalism of the latter. But, unfairly or not, this trebly 7" suffers by comparison in that it misses the messy intensity and beef of even the artiest Flipper material. And while sure, Loose/Lose was off doing his own thing here -- as evidenced by the thin vocals, lack of guitar/bass-roar, and the ticky-tacky drum machine that dominate both sides -- it's tough to deny that, at the end of the day, "thoughtful" rather than "hilariously bludgeoning" inevitably rates unfavorably when put up against BL's parent band, making the single more curio than anything else.

AND YET.

...At the same time, I oughta be clear that DUD this is not. Not HARDLY, son! For example: "What's Your Name" is a creepy-crawly, door-scratching nighttime take on standard Flipperisms, and "Waking to Sleep," well, shoot, that's a San Franciscan sludgepunk-whiteguy straight-up perpetrating some hip-hop in 1983! This record won't explode your ear-world (nor does it try to), but it's deserving of at least a cursory play by anyone even mildly curious about Flipper extracurriculars. Fusetron tends to have copies on hand, so those so inclined might as well give some bucks and give some listens. Thoughts?

Loop - Torched

2011-08-09T18:01:00.000-07:00

(The Catalogue, 1988)

Fuggin' flexidiscs. Cheaply made, super skip-happy, easily destroyed. Thankfully, these flippity-floppity wrecks more often than not avoid the inclusion of exclusive material and have historically appeared packaged as bonus/sampler/gimmick freebies -- the MP3 giveaway of the pre-MP3 era, kinda -- otherwise the very existence of the format would be tough to defend. That said, Loop's (stuck into Brit magazine The Catalogue in late 1988), which falls into the "sampler" category, is hardly worth mentioning, as it's simply the album version of "Torched" pressed onto a one-sided disc. Good deal if you're some dink mag-reader in '88 getting exposed to the band for the first time, pretty much pointless for everyone else, both then and now... just pick up the full Fade Out album instead. Now, if it's an ESSENTIAL flexi you want, go out and find "It's a Gas" by Alfred E. Neuman, and friends and enemies alike will soon know you for the cut-up you truly are as those wonderful sounds issue forth from your speakers.

Loop - Spinning

2011-03-05T16:19:00.001-08:00

(Head, 1987)

I always thought it was silly for a band like Loop – invested as it was in drawn-out and oft-metallic hypno-jams – to release 7”s, and apparently those guys agreed with me, since they only ever bothered to push three of the things out onto the market. The first of those, the “Spinning” single, is a good example of said silliness, since it adds a B-side (“Spinning Part Two”) that’s nothing more than an extended instrumental coda… why not just tack that onto the 12” version (which is “Spinning Part One”) and eliminate the fade-out/fade-in that brackets the side-break? Which might be what “Spinning (Spun Out)” on the World in Your Eyes singles comp is, but I honestly can’t tell if that’s the case or not; sounds like “Spun Out” might have some additional overdubs. Regardless, it’s a strong piece of Stooges-meet-Spacemen lunkhead-psych, with plenty of nicely-toasted swoops and wiggles in the guitar department. And now that Robert Hampson has finally overseen reissues – COMPREHENSIVE and TIDY reissues! – of Loop’s entire catalog (including ALL versions of “Spinning”), there isn’t any excuse for not owning the whole of this sledgehammering gunk… he’s made it easy for you goofs.

Lockgroove - Something To Give

2011-03-04T18:03:00.000-08:00

(SharkAttack!, 2001)

Released between the Sleeping on the Elephant Fog and Calm Right Down albums, this mighty fine single actually shares more with the noisy Terrastock space-rock of the group’s debut Rewired EP than with the spaced-out (albeit still noise-inflected) pop-/rock-leanings of later days. “Something to Give” has the hazy, bluesy psych-stomp feel of very early Spacemen 3, or perhaps mid-’90s Brian Jonestown Massacre – but with a little more dynamism than either band typically threw out there on a per-song basis – while “Only One Time” makes a more frantic, clear-headed run through similar regions. A final blast of looped clubnoize points the way, I’m guessing, to the Compass splinter act.

Lockgroove doesn’t seem to exist anymore (breaking up after Calm Right Down, which includes serious Best Songs Of The 2000s contenders “Payin’ the Price” and “Execution Style”), but folks from that group and brother band Charlene are still a-strummin’ and a-thumpin’ and a-ooh’in’ and a-aah’in’ around the Boston area these days as Broken River Prophet, a worthy venture that displays much in the way of sonic connective tissue. See ’em, if leaving the house happens to be your bag! Heck, I did it and it involved a BUS.

DJ Lance Lockarm - Wouldn't It Be Ecstasy

2010-09-15T19:51:00.000-07:00

(no label, 2005)

A bit of a mysterious one. In early 2005, the waning days of the mash-up fad, a handful of these white-label 45s became available for mailorder through Rough Trade. Laying the Beach Boys’ vocals for “Wouldn’t it Be Nice” (taken from the Pet Sounds Sessions box) over Spacemen 3’s “Ecstasy Symphony” drone, it doesn’t offer any particularly revelatory/amusing new angles on either song, as the best mash-ups did, but it’s still a creepily hypnotic luv-thingy that works more than well enough. And sure, there’s a little cheating afoot as the song’s creator employs some necessary pitch-shifting here and there on the Spacemen component, but who among us hasn’t sneakily pitch-shifted from time to time?

Don’t answer that.

On to the aforementioned mystery: There’s a stamp on the label that identifies the disc as “I Will Always Love You Forever” by Sonic Art Crew, but the now-dead website of DJ Lance Lockarm, where the song was called “Wouldn’t it Be Ecstasy,” always appeared to me to be the original source of the track. No idea whether Sonic Art Crew lifted it and then released this bootleg, or if the thing’s just mislabeled. Anyway, I’m officially giving Lance Lockarm the credit until I hear otherwise. Know the deal, you?

LMNOP - Forever Through The Sun

2010-09-11T15:12:00.000-07:00

(LMNOP, 1985)

I’ve been reading the infamous “Babysue” for many years – their “Legalize Crime” cartoon resides on my fridge – and it’s always a little surprising to jump from the deliberately offensive, world-hating comics and essays of that magazine/site to LMNOP, its creator’s pleasant if off-kilter musical alter-ego. This debut single is a sincere, driving power-pop-athon (faint whiffs of “Dream Police” at times) filled with big guitars, LOUD drums, and some nice vocal harmonies… a seriously good song. These guys must’ve been really young at the time, given the vocals and the fresh-faced band photos on the back of the ’86 Elemen Opee Elpee, but “Forever Through the Sun” is a full-on winner that many a veteran group of la-la’ers would KILL to record. Impressive biz! So even if I’m far less fond of the more dated B, “Three Colon Oh Oh,” I can safely recommend this disc as both a getter and a keeper – Numero has apparently included the A-side on one of their comps, but the original is the way to go, as it comes packaged in a 12-page zine signed by the band. Bang for your buck!

Lilys - A Nanny In Manhattan

2010-09-09T15:29:00.000-07:00

(Che, 1998)

After the pants people got “A Nanny in Manhattan” on the tube, Che decided it oughta get on the stick and put some product in the stores, hence this remixed single, complete with snazzy new sleeve and “as featured in Levi’s TV ad” sticker. Aside from a sonically-richer version of the accompanying LP re-released at the same time, the popularity of “Nanny” also gave the universe an insane Lilys lip-synch performance on UK television that should be watched again and again and again. Oh, and there are also a few B-sides in the same vein as Better spread across the formats (here it’s the excellent “The First Half Second”), all of which are on the American Services (For the Soon to Be Departed) EP.

I know I’ve been using the useless catch-all word “pop” to describe these last few Lilys singles, but I should make clear that this stuff is more gloriously weird than that term might imply: Wrapped up in the catchy melodies and concise track-lengths are unusual and unpredictable song structures, consistently surprising sounds, and oft-impenetrable lyrics. That the band managed to sneak out two albums on major-label subsidiaries (follow-up The 3 Way was on Sire) is a nifty feat, and theirs is a discography worth gathering.

Lilys - A Nanny In Manhattan

2010-09-09T13:56:00.000-07:00

(Che, 1996)

Another hooky slice of slightly-skewed moddery from Lilys, and it deservedly ended up a British hit a few years down the road after Levi’s stuck it in an ad. I wouldn’t say that it’s significantly better than the rest of what the band was recording at the time, but it’s pretty obvious why this one, with its clanking, clattering kickiness, would have wide appeal when given the proper exposure. On the B side, the psychedelic, Eastern drone of “More Than That is Deserved” is an unfinished-sounding drag (rather like one of the lesser songs on Their Satanic Majesties Request) whose addition to the end of the reworked Better Can’t Make Your Life Better as album-closer was a mistake.

By the way, I must note that I have a mouse hiding out – or HOLING UP, if you will, HO HO HO – somewhere in my apartment. Not the worst development in the world, as I’m generally sympathetic to my fellow mammals, feeling a certain kinship with them, but I’m very annoyed by this dink’s habit of leaving feces all over my kitchen floor at night. Unless the mouse happens to read this and change his ways immediately, the penalty is gonna be death by neckbreaking. I’m harsh but fair.

Lilys - Which Studies The Past?

2010-09-04T16:22:00.000-07:00

(Sub Pop, 1996)

The first Lilys 7” I ever plunked down for, and still top o’ the heap after all these years. Criminal that these two songs, released as a one-off for Sub Pop, aren’t available elsewhere, as they’re easily as good as, heck, not only anything on the stylistically-similar Better Can’t Make Your Life Better, but ANYTHING ELSE Lilys ever put out. The smashingly-titled “Welfare Murder Plot” covers a lotta ground in little time, lurching back and forth from slithery croon to chunky garage-pop before ending with a smooth-rockin’ coda. Nothing finer than the ultra-catchy B, though, a tight Nuggets-y head-shaker called “Baby’s a Dealer” that might be – yup! – the apex of this phase of the band’s existence. So why in tarnation is it buried on the flip of an obscure 7”?? Mysteries abound in this life of ours!

Lilys - Returns Every Morning

2010-09-03T12:24:00.000-07:00

(Che, 1996)

Yeepers, where’d THIS come from?! Lilys ’96 abruptly says goodbye to gauze-pop and hello to mod-pop, stripping away the layers of dreamy guitars and sighing vocals and going for a sharper, more concise, pill-gulpin’ (yet still semi-psych) sound – the sound of FUN! “Returns Every Morning,” taken from the happy-go-peppy Better Can’t Make Your Life Better album, is a fine representation of the chiming, hazy-summer stomp-pop that Heasley would focus on for the second half of the ’90s, a carefree, kickass – if well-trod – regresso-path that has been shared but never bested by sonic cousins like the Asteroid Number Four, Minders, and, at times, Saturday Looks Good to Me. Zanier still is the Apples in Stereo cover “Touch the Water” – Heasley and Robert Schneider crossed musical piss-streams a few times mid-decade – which turns the Apples’ comparatively flat lo-fi rocker into a full-on bubblegum-garage basher. “Touch the Water” was left off of the initial version of the Better… LP but later included on the 1998 UK re-release, which was remixed and generally re-jiggered after the success of “A Nanny in Manhattan.”

Lilys - Tone Bender

2010-03-30T22:46:00.001-07:00

(Summershine, 1993)

“Tone Bender” gets pulled from In the Presence of Nothing, a song that again offers up the massive, woozy Valentines churn of “February Fourteenth,” this time with a lead guitar that sounds a bit like a much-slowed “Only Shallow.” Another terrific, well-polished A-side. The rarity here is “Eskimo,” and while its relative sunniness is a slight tweak on the gauzy shoegaze formula, the track’s ponderous length eventually makes for a tiresome, impact-free slog. Zzzz.

By the way: The CD version of “Tone Bender,” which adds the two tracks from the debut 7”, holds the piss-me-off honor of being THE record that has most successfully eluded me through the years. In over a decade of searching I’ve never actually seen it in person, and the one time I did buy an affordable copy on eBay, the USPS managed to lose the package. When I finally do obtain it, I’m gonna staple the fuckin thing to my chest.

Lilys - February Fourteenth

2010-03-28T15:46:00.001-07:00

(Slumberland, 1991)

Back in VHS days, fun-guy buddyboys Slumberland used to release insanely limited versions of their records in special handmade sleeves. Not sure how many of these they actually did, but I have 7”s of this sort by Lilys, Swirlies, and Black Tambourine (the “What Kind of Heaven Do You Want” EP was hand-colored as well, but I think that’s true of the entire run). This Lilys 45, of which 43 – !! – were made, comes in a white sleeve that has a photo pasted to its front and minimal info (band name, track titles, label address) written in purple marker on the back. The vinyl is identical to the standard “February Fourteenth” black-wax single, making the thing strictly collector-dink bait, but I maintain that the unique-artwork idea was – and is! – a fun one that I wouldn’t mind seeing present-day labels revisit. Why not?

Lilys - February Fourteenth

2010-03-23T23:12:00.000-07:00

(Slumberland, 1991)

The first Lilys single is about as close an approximation of the uptempo bits on the Isn’t Anything-era MBV EPs as a guy’s gonna find, and in a still-growing sea of limp Shieldsian imitators, quality stuff like this is not to be sneered at. “February Fourteenth” in particular is heavier than the by-then chart-baiting Telescopes, crisper than the early BJM stabs at crudegaze, and more invested in maintaining a Rock undercurrent (see: drums) than even the contemporaneous My Bloody Valentine itself. Best American shoegaze record I’ve ever heard? Yup. Oddly enough, “Threw a Day,” which is absolutely the lesser of these two songs, is available on In the Presence of Nothing (as an unlisted track), while the pummeling A-side appears only here and as a bonus on the impossible-to-find Australian “Tone Bender” CDEP. If Kurt Heasley and/or Slumberland ever feels like fixing that situation, your iPod or Discman or whatever will be much the better for it.

Lil Bunnies - Lil Bunnies

2010-03-18T22:20:00.001-07:00

(Moo-La-La, 1995)

Confrontational bunny-suited assholes from Sacramento who vomit forth rabbit-themed scumpunk disasters that include GG Allin-inspired originals (“Hop, Fight, & Fuck”) and Electric Eels covers (“Bunnies”). Yes, it all sounds like total ghetto-blast shit. And yes, the humor/annoyance factor is boosted by the cheesy air organ that gets pounded sub-Kingsmen style throughout the entire record. But for sheer fuck-you purity-of-concept it’s tough to beat these guys… please check out their lone LP (released in Italy?!) in order to experience the group’s ultimate expression of contempt/laziness/jokiness at an excruciatingly-long 33rpm. Perversely, it’s a must. GET.

Lightning Bolt - Conan

2010-03-13T14:07:00.000-08:00

(Load, 2000)

Remember the Harvard Square Other Music? Good enough store, but it was a pretty crazy proposition from the get-go, what with Twisted Village, Newbury Comics, In Your Ear, CD Spins, HMV, Tower, and the post-Kenmore Planet Records all situated within several blocks of the place. Predictably short-lived, I think it’s now a restaurant hilariously named “OM,” and I heard that the dude who masterminded the whole folly lost his job over it. Anyway, I bought this Lightning Bolt tour single there back in the glory days of 2001 (for $2.99!), and I’ve always held it in rather low regard. I’m of the commonly-held opinion that there’s never been a Lightning Bolt record that comes anywhere close to the greatness of the band’s nutso concerts, and would heartily recommend their Power of Salad live DVD over any of the LPs, since it at least gives you the visual component. But this 7”? Thanks to length restrictions, it doesn’t have even the sustained, tightly-wound semi-insanity of the full-lengths, which is a problem when the sound is much like a sloppier, more manic version of some of the heavier Japanese groove-psych groups – Les Rallizes Denudes or Mainliner, say. “Conan” does generate a fair amount of excitement once it explodes into its motorcycle-guitar second half, but that certainly doesn’t justify the huge cash-wheelbarrows you’ll need to dump in order to pick up this rare’un. Unless you’re dumping that cash at MY feet, of course.

Lenola - Colonial 509

2010-03-10T01:02:00.000-08:00

(Tappersize, 1994)

Aw heck. This isn’t my finest night. Because of a mishap involving an unstopped sink and my beloved Mach 3, I had to shave using a horrible plastic razor that I bought a few years ago on vacation as part of a $1.69 twelve-pack from a San Francisco bodega. Making matters worse, said beard-scrape was done in the dark after my bathroom light burnt out and I realized I didn’t have any replacement bulbs (the penlight I held in my left hand was quite a help, though). Now finished, the 99-cent “Men’s Choice” aftershave has hardly soothed my angered skin, and I sit here with a scowl gracing my burning skull.

All of that makes my vivid memories of transporting this very single across the country – broke – on a sweltering Greyhound bus (San Diego to Worcester!) rankle considerably less, even while its stomach-churn guitars make me wish I was safely in bed with the booze-bottle closed. Decent work here, though, Lenola guys. This debut release is bendy-note nausea-gaze pedal-box weirdness that stakes out what I suppose is a rough middle ground between Pavement and the Swirlies, particularly on the A, with B-side “Greedo” tending towards the latter in its extended instrumental sections. Fairly gifted with melody, better stuff was to come once the band tightened up, “got normal,” and veered into Rev/Hopewell/Home country around the turn of the century (The Electric Tickle, etc.), but this one is certainly worth sniffing out on the cheap. An underrated group.

John Lennon - Jealous Guy

2010-03-02T23:24:00.000-08:00

(Capitol, 1988)

The Imagine film was one of the earliest image-control projects from the Lennon Estate, and Yoko and co. cannily (but boringly) go the double A-side route with the release of an American “Jealous Guy” single lifted from the soundtrack. Whereas the Europeans had stuck the semi-headscratcher “Going Down on Love” on the B back in the early ’80s, the US gets the far more famous “Give Peace a Chance” for a full-on warm ’n’ fuzzy mini hits package. Hooray and all that, but there could hardly be a less interesting record twenty-plus years after the fact. Any person dumb enough to seek the thing out owns both songs many times over, and there isn’t anything in the artwork or packaging to make it desirable from even a collector-dummy perspective. Owning this does not reflect well on me.

John Lennnon - I'm Stepping Out

2010-02-28T22:33:00.001-08:00

(Polydor, 1984)

Once more to the well! Here’s further doodly-doo from the archives, a partner/sequel of sorts to “Watching the Wheels” where John addresses the big-city bored-dude itch that comes along with his decision to squirrel himself away as a daddy for five years. It’s a stiff straight-rock-combo performance, clearly not intended to be a final take, but it’s strong enough as far as outtakes go (though maybe not worthy of release as a single). Yoko’s alien-croon funk come-on “Sleepless Night” adds little… beyond “Walking on Thin Ice,” the post-Double Fantasy years aren’t her most exciting musical period. Fashion commentary: the cover of this record reminds me once again that our friend John was bizarrely thin back in ’80. What was that about? Was he skiing the Bolivian slopes, wink-wink? HEY, SEARCH ME!

John Lennon - Borrowed Time

2010-02-28T21:05:00.000-08:00

(Polydor, 1984)

I know what you’re wondering: How’s stuff going with my shower? Well let me tells it to you straight by informing one and all that I fixed it my own damned self by bellbottoming down to the local plumbing supply store and simply buying a new shower head, which I then “installed” WITHOUT the recommended thread sealing tape. Problem solved, body cleansed. None more handy than this guy right here, and none more rebellious (re: thread sealing tape). I DO WHAT I WANT.

And what of John Lennon? Baggy white-dude reggae butter from him here with “Borrowed Time”… it’s a very swell simp-Caribbean groove-thingy that ambles along inoffensively just as it should. His DF/M&H sessions were loose, and this pulls that vibe off as well as anything else on those oft-slight tapes, even if, as a whole, Milk and Honey goes a bit far in the anti-slick direction and, perhaps inevitably, feels at times unfinished and patched together. Uh. So?

John Lennon - Nobody Told Me

2010-02-22T23:21:00.000-08:00

(Polydor, 1983)

I’m all out of sorts. Not only do I have some weird head-congestion situation that’s rendering me half-deaf and three-quarters off-balance, but my shower is also busted. Water pressure problem? Utility company tomfoolery? Wish I knew. Washing and shampooing in the kitchen sink is a skunk-rotten scene even after a single day. These aggravations have left me grouchy, and I’m sulking around the pad tonight with a grimace, a glare, and both fists a-shaking. What is that that deceased fellow from the Beatles sang in his big posthumous hit? “Nobody told me there’d be days like these!” Darn straight, Johnny! ’Cept he’s doling out a wryly bemused helping of whatchoo-gonna-do bafflement that has little to do – moodwise – with the pissy self-pitython that I’m busy rocking. Still, my anger hasta melt a smidge thanks to the goofy looseness of this simple pop ear-pleaser, a song whose rock-combo lightness of touch is refreshing after the off-putting gloss of Double Fantasy. Continuing the “dialogue” structure of DF, Yoko tacks her jarringly short “O’ Sanity” onto the B, wasting wax that woulda been better grooved with, if not a stronger Ono track, one of the many, many Lennon demos or outtakes from the post-’75 period – thematic whatsis is great and all, but this is just self-indulgent, poor-choice silliness. And that’s FACT, not my judgment-impairing sickness and uncleanliness talking.

John Lennon - (Just Like) Starting Over

2010-02-16T19:34:00.000-08:00

(Geffen, 1981)

Just in time for the American hardcore explosion, Geffen fires a doubled-sided NUTTIN BUT HITS 7” – “(Just Like) Starting Over” b/w “Woman”!! – up the ass of a nation that will never and CAN NEVER be the same after the dropping of this INSANE VINYL. These two fuckers were straight BANGERS in Lennon’s life, and things haven’t changed since death came creeping. Yeh, “Starting Over” still makes me feel like I should check on ye olde rockin’ prostate, and “Woman” calls to mind drunken fetal-position sobbing for/about mummy: Talk about maxxing out the Intensity Card after driving your Wildguy Minivan down to the Grocery Store of Madness! Has there ever been a back-2-back KRAZIER party offered by the major-label budget bin? I think I heard a 10cc 45 once that came close, but buddy the answer’s nope!

John Lennon - Watching The Wheels

2010-02-15T15:31:00.000-08:00

(Geffen, 1981)

HEY! I’m off to see Yoko Ono play at BAM tonight! She’ll be appearing with a star-studded cast of thousands, including Sean Lennon, Cornelius, Klaus Voorman, Jim Keltner, and some of the Sonic Youth-ers! I’m keeping my gentle fingers crossed, though, that she doesn’t perform “Watching the Wheels” B-side “Yes, I’m Your Angel,” which engages in atypical-for-Ono cutesiness and thus sinks under its jaunty old-timey Disneyisms – the McCartneys would’ve been slaughtered for releasing novelty lamb-poop like this.

Poop? Butt. Butt? BUT! Forget the lousiness of the B, for the best of the Double Fantasy A-sides is to be had here, with Lennon’s breezy defense of his “lazy” lifestyle resulting in one of the strongest singles he ever wrote/writ/wrut. Piano, instantly-memorable vocal melody, totally effortless poppiness: This is the one. Along with “Nobody Told Me,” “Watching the Wheels” is the cream of the comeback crop.

John Lennon - Jealous Guy

2010-02-10T06:26:00.000-08:00

(Parlophone, 1981)

A reissue intended to cash in on Lennon’s death, this French 7” rather mysteriously pairs the saccharine “Jealous Guy” with the lightly funky Walls and Bridges obscurity “Going Down On Love.” Don’t get me wrong: I’ve got no beef with either song (and “Jealous Guy” as recorded in 1971 beats hell bigtime on the awful Beatles-era demo), it’s just an odd pairing for a money-grab “tribute” release. As far as the A-side, it’s possible the label chose this one – as opposed to a more famous track – in order to ride the commercial wave of Roxy Music’s then-hit cover version. Which would of course make everything surrounding this release doubly crass, but hey, at least we get a great picture sleeve out of the deal.

And you know what it’s doing in New York City right now? Blizzarding.

John Lennon - Woman

2010-02-07T13:27:00.000-08:00

(Geffen, 1981)

Yeesh. Is there a sappier song than “Woman” in John Lennon’s catalog? I seriously doubt it. From the ultra adult-contemporary lighter-waving sound, to the “I loooooove yoooooou… well well” chorus, to the mommy-issue patheticisms of the lyrics, the track is a kernel of sweet sentiment wrapped in gooey layers of cotton-candy radio-cliché. Perhaps some chump asshole is RIGHT NOW dancing with his mother to this at a wedding? Bet on it.

Ono’s contribution to the single is, again, more interesting. “Beautiful Boys” is an eerie, slightly psychedelic mood piece about John and Sean Lennon that encourages the embrace of fear/danger/etc. It’s an unsettling analogue to John’s comfort-blanket lyrics in his own “Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)” on the same album.

John Lennon - (Just Like) Starting Over

2010-02-05T19:45:00.001-08:00

(Geffen, 1980)

Five years later, the comeback single. For better or worse – musically speaking, that is – Lennon’s a bit of a happy sappy pappy at this point, and he hammers that home by opening “(Just Like) Starting Over” with a gentle windchime reworking of the ominous bell-tolls that announced “Mother.” The song is perky, 1950s-informed luv-fluff written by and for the middle-aged, and it would not be at all out of place soundtracking an erectile disfunction ad. It’s generally inoffensive, though, and one would be churlish to begrudge Lennon his dull domestic satisfaction after years of unpredictable nuttiness. Thing’s catchy, too, and you can’t fight city hall on shit like that, right? A semi-interesting point to make: The puke-slick production is very ELO-like (check out those backing vocals), with the reverbed outer-space ending sounding especially similar to the Lynne-produced Beatle version of “Real Love” from the 1990s. Huh!

Yoko’s back on the B for the first time since “Woman is the Nigger of the World,” and she once again shows herself to be the more progressive half of the couple, turning out a nervous, jagged pop song that straddles NYC new- and no-wave quite nicely. “Kiss Kiss Kiss” may not be as far out as some of her work from the early ’70s, but it certainly shows that she was keenly aware of what was going on around her musically at the turn of the decade – something with which the developmentally-retarded John proudly admitted as far back as 1970 he couldn’t be bothered.

John Lennon - Imagine

2010-02-02T21:23:00.000-08:00

(Apple, 1975)

This one was released in Europe to fluff the Shaved Fish comp (which, seeing as how it included the rote ’n’ roll “Move Over Ms. L.,” was more a 7”/non-alb round-up than a greatest hits) and it neatly pairs both sides of the marketer’s-dream John Lennon™ coin. Sweet backed with sour: utopian John gets repped by “Imagine,” and pissed John offers “Working Class Hero.” The latter is an embarrassing slice of acoustic, class-baiting poseurism lifted from Plastic Ono Band that, if nothing else, comes off as semi-convincing as long as one decides not to look into Lennon’s actual biographical whatsits. And as a bonus, unenthused credit is hereby granted to Apple for issuing the song on a single with the saucy, ain’t-I-blue lyrics intact.

John Lennon - Stand By Me

2010-01-31T22:28:00.001-08:00

(Apple, 1975)

So this is where it was all headed. After a few years of seeming indifference toward pushing his music forward, Lennon sought fetal-position safety in the late ’50s with Rock ’n’ Roll, an album of teenage-funtime covers. He at least does a fine job on these songs, though, with “Stand By Me” – featuring some of his best singing – a worthy choice as single. Also, the cast of thousands on these sessions gives the songs a full-bodied bad-assedness that largely distracts one from the fact that this record is a lazy vanity project originally inspired by a scummy publishing lawsuit. But so it goes. The B-side, “Move Over Ms. L.,” is a blaring Lennon original that fits in well with the rootsy rock he’d receded back into.

John Lennon - Whatever Gets You Thru The Night

2010-01-30T17:33:00.000-08:00

(Apple, 1974)

John Lennon’s white-boy party jam, but not necessarily in a good way. This cocaine sax-shit sounds a lot like something the Saturday Night Live house band would’ve cranked out during commercial breaks around the same time, and Elton John’s AM-pop presence looms disturbingly large over the chipmunk-voiced proceedings. I don’t begrudge Lennon his chart success – this was his LONE Billboard #1 before he died – but it’s hard to get excited about such gutless, sub-Wings horsepoo. “Whatever Gets You Thru the Night” makes the execrably new-agey “#9 Dream” (also a single off of Walls and Bridges) seem appealing by comparison, and that’s obviously no badge of pride. And “Beef Jerky”? Just a silly early-R ’n’ R throwback instrumental that’s cute only for including the “Let Me Roll it” lick during its breaks.

John Lennon - Mind Games

2010-01-26T14:46:00.000-08:00

(Toshiba EMI, 1973)

Oops! Someone goofed up and pressed the Japanese “Mind Games” single using the “fuck a pig” version of “Meat City” instead of the standard “check the album” edit used on most 45s internationally. Can’t imagine that too many people in a non-English-speaking country would get exercised over a sped-up, backwards obscenity on the B-side of a mid-sized hit, but it’s still an amusing variation and worthy of note. Aside from that and the sleeve (a single-sheet insert that prints the lyrics to both tracks in English and Japanese on the rear), everything else is the same here as on the American release.

Hey. Also. Sunday night I had a dream that I was listening to a trash-punk single that featured the lyrics “Madonna is so mean / Madonna is so mean / Madonna is so mean / She doesn’t even sing her own songs.” And while I don’t know anything about the veracity of such a statement, I think we can all agree that that is the finest verse ever sleep-penned. Poetry from beyond.

John Lennon - Mind Games

2010-01-26T14:29:00.000-08:00

(Apple, 1973)

Retreating from the real-world grit of his last few records, Lennon’s back in “all you need is love” mode on “Mind Games,” promoting positive thinking as a means to achieving peace. The lyrics, of course, go a little too heavy on the cosmic fiddle-faddle, trotting out “mind guerrillas,” “the karmic wheel,” and – worst of all – “some kind of druid dude lifting the veil.” Ugh. Still, the music, even with Phil Spector out of the picture, is pleasant and rich – slow, piano- and key-based balladry that sounds more sleekly “adult” than anything Lennon had done previously (“Out the Blue” from the LP is an even better example of this). Switching gears, B-side “Meat City” is a boogie-rocker that, unlike too many of the r’n’r-minded mid-’70s efforts that pad out John’s albums, manages to be fairly enjoyable and memorable thanks to a loose yet heavy funkiness. As a joke, the brief backwards segment at the end of the first verse (“fuck a pig”) is replaced on the single with “check the album.” Tee hee, etc.!

John Lennon - Woman Is The Nigger Of The World

2010-01-20T20:47:00.001-08:00

(Apple, 1972)

Naughty, naughty! The feminist sentiment is noble, and the sax-dominated arrangement ultra-muscular (that chunka-chunk “We make her paint her face and dance” coda is especially terrific), but when your political/cultural/intellectual ally Angela Davis professes to being uncomfortable about your lyric, well… I guess that makes things complicated. Still, writing as a white male nearly 40 years on, I admire “Woman is the Nigger of the World” for being a ballsy, heart-in-its-right-place piece of commercial suicide that has musical appeal well beyond its chorus’s intended shock value. Hard to knock Lennon for following his political 45s pushing peace (“Give Peace a Chance,” “Happy Xmas”) and social justice (“Power to the People”) with one promoting women’s rights. Yoko rounds things out by adding the uplifting reggae-tinged girl-groupisms of “Sisters, O Sisters” on the B-side, and while I would have preferred her zany boogie-fest “We’re All Water” for single release, this one does fit nicely for obvious thematic reasons.

Both tracks are on Sometime in New York City, and, to be honest, I’m not sure why the consensus on the album is that it’s some major discographical blemish. It’s dated, ragged, and ham-fisted, but with the newspaper-themed packaging, Lennon suggests that he’s knowingly creating ephemeral, of-its-moment rock, rather than the Grand Statements of some of his Imagine-era material. It’s a fun, loose LP that reeks of excitement and conviction (no matter how naïve), with little of the contrived rock-star posturing of later political-minded pop-celebs. Lennon is willing to look silly on this album – and he occasionally does – but he at least doesn’t try to cloak himself and his music in arrogant, singing-from-on-high grandiosity. The mistakes in judgment and songwriting that pockmark this era in Lennon’s career ultimately come off as charmingly well-meaning rather than self-aggrandizing or self-important. Worth shoving some of it into your ears.

John Lennon - Happy Xmas

2010-01-16T16:12:00.000-08:00

(Apple, 1971)

When John and Yoko recorded this festive – yet barbed – chestnut back in ’71, little did they know the avalanche of gifts that would tumble my way one warm California afternoon in early 2010. Yes, several days ago, I was on a quick trip out west for work, and here are just a few of the exciting junk-shelf freebies I picked up: CD holder from Citrix, playing cards from Yahoo, tote bag from LinkedIn, dominoes from Amazon, laundry bag from InterDigital, sunglasses from Cooliris. “Happy Xmas” indeed! Sure, the Lennons were using their song to challenge listeners to actively do something about ending war and promoting peace, but hey, I got myself a combination reading light/laser pointer from vmware, which is what the season’s all about!

And the music? Spector drags out the Harlem Community Choir for this one, and the sleighbell-boasting production is delightfully rich and echo-y, just as a Christmas song oughta be. Plus: green vinyl! Of all the holiday ditties released by ex-Beatles, “Happy Xmas” is by far the most substantial in terms of musical and lyrical content, and it’s deservedly the most successful. Sure, I guess time could still vindicate Ringo’s I Wanna Be Santa Claus record, but, personally, I wouldn’t take a free copy even if Silicon Graphics stuck it on a USB thingy and gave it out for free at the Stanford Computer Forum.

John Lennon - Imagine

2010-01-11T13:49:00.000-08:00

(EMI/Odeon, 1971)

No need to bore you with musings on “Imagine”; not only is it one of the most famous songs of all time, it’s also pretty doggone straightforward in its moist-eyed utopianism. Perhaps very much to Lennon’s credit, what you hear is what you get, and most commentary on the thing is no more than worthless word-diddling. Pairing the track with the dirty, bloozy throwaway “It’s So Hard” makes for a good illustration of the Imagine LP as a whole, as it’s an album where Lennon swings from syrupy ballads (“Jealous Guy”) to nasty personal attacks (“How Do You Sleep”). Overall, it’s probably his most well-balanced, accessible record, and it actually contains a handful of lesser-known songs superior to the two chosen for this 7”. Of minor note is the fact that the absence of a Yoko-composed B-side makes this the first John-only 45 to have hit the racks, and, as such, in a way his first “true” solo single.

John Lennon - Power To The People

2010-01-06T23:17:00.000-08:00

(Apple 1971)

Well. I’ve been accidentally falling asleep on my couch every evening this week like a naughty, lazy fellow, thus the lack of John Lennon reviews. Luckily, the coming of the new year has directed pretty much all site traffic to the entry for “Ding Dong, Ding Dong,” so I suppose I can hide behind that fact and get away with some pitiful January sloth. And if it seems too obvious that I’m phoning it in on this one, please note that Lennon was doing the same when he churned out “Power to the People,” his second slogan-based political-pop single. Still, no matter how trite the lyrics, the huge, uptempo, sax-blare Wall-of-Spector backing sells the thing to an astonishing degree. Sonically and thematically, the song fits far better with the Sometime in New York City material of ’72 than with the more personal Imagine songs that were soon to follow, but it works as an over-earnest, one-off stopgap between albums and demonstrates, after Plastic Ono Band, that Lennon had in no way shunned the mass-appeal single-writing process.

John Lennon - Mother

2010-01-02T19:59:00.001-08:00

(Apple, 1970)

Ol’ John’s first LP-pimping single was a bafflingly non-commercial one – the stark, screaming, piano-smashing “Mother” – but, to be fair, what offa Plastic Ono Band WOULD have been commercial? “God,” maybe? Gussied up remixes of “Remember” or “Well Well Well”?? Dunno. At any rate, some concessions are made for radio here, as the opening bell tolls and most of the closing howls are edited out for the 45 mono-mix. Still a poor marketing choice, but a fine bit of post-’60s, post-pop-universalist self-indulgence nonetheless. A shortened version of Yoko’s terrifically nutzoid jam “Why” is on the B, and it suggests that a fully collaborative pop/rock effort between John and Yoko around this time might’ve yielded some truly hot poop. Shame that that wouldn’t happen until Sometime in New York City, when the supporting players were, to the resulting rec’s detriment, of a far lesser caliber.

Oh, and the American picture sleeve for this one is rare as HJECK. Head straight for the mountains if you gots a copy.

John Lennon - Instant Karma!

2009-12-31T00:28:00.001-08:00

(Apple, 1970)

Golly gee! Good for John Lennon, directly following up his best-ever ROCK single with his best-ever POP single in a nifty display of quick-pivot versatility (and speaking of versatility, Yoko contributes a medieval-sounding harpsichord-and-flute ditty on the B this time out!). With a big joyous chorus, bouncy piano, passionate vocal, silly drum fills, and echo up the wazoo, “Instant Karma” absolutely SOUNDS like a smash the first time you hear it, thanks to that unit-shifting combo of Lennon’s rhythmic, gut-punch popwrite and Phil Spector’s huge production. Aside from the fact that this was John’s biggest solo hit to date, Spector’s involvement on here is actually quite important in a larger historical sense. This was the first time he’d worked with any of the Beatles, and Lennon and Harrison (who plays guitar on “Instant Karma”) were pleased enough with the results that they both brought him onboard for their next solo albums – Plastic Ono Band and the VERY Spector-esque All Things Must Pass, respectively. But, perhaps more significantly, this session also led to our murderous producer friend being drafted to salvage the Let it Be tapes, a move that ultimately convinced Paul to publically put a bullet in the Beatles’ head – Spector-style, zing! – a few months later. Yes, there were obviously a number of other issues that led to the breakup (and Lennon had effectively quit by now anyway), but it’s amusing to realize that a song as simple and cosmically uplifting as “Instant Karma” played such a big role in what ended up being a decade-plus of sniping and acrimony between the ex-Beatles.

John Lennon - Cold Turkey

2009-12-28T23:36:00.000-08:00

(Apple, 1969)

I must say that it’s funny to hear the usual pants-wetting Beatlefan crybabies bleat about Yoko Ono using the Plastic Ono Band name on her latest album, considering that the conceptual non-group was always intended to be whomever John and(/or?) Yoko surrounded themselves with at any given session. Check “Cold Turkey,” which features an entirely different cast of characters than those on “Give Peace a Chance”: This time, it’s John, Eric Clapton, Klaus Voorman, and Ringo Starr, and they’re offering up a far different sound than the jangly street-chant of the previous single, here laying down a hard claustro-rockin’ tale of heroin withdrawal and general misery over some tense, jagged skree. I don’t believe that Lennon ever nastied it up guitar-wise as effectively as he does on this disc, and in terms of overall hot-rock performance, probably only “I Found Out” (which also features Voorman on mean-burblin’ bass) comes at all close to such intensity in the Lennon songbook. Further marrying an ever inward-looking tendency with a raw, Beatle-baggage-free take on the pop/rock setup, “Cold Turkey” – lyrically, musically, vocally – certainly paves the way for the similarly uncomfortable John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band LP of 1970. Just as satisfying, B-side “Don’t Worry Kyoko (Mummy’s Only Looking For Her Hand in the Snow)” features the same group jamming in a driving, almost-unhinged blues-rock style as Ono provides the shrieking, ululating vocals for which she’s long been (unfairly) mocked. Ground zero for the Yoko musical template, this song, as with John’s, clearly points towards work undertaken in 1970 – her own P.O.B. album, though, jumps further into crazed, jazz-informed, free-rock mindblow that thumps far harder and far freakier than any solo Beatle effort out there. Shit’s NUTS. Seriously: if you don’t own it, reconsider soon.

John Lennon - Give Peace A Chance

2009-12-24T21:33:00.000-08:00

(Apple, 1969)

For the first solo single from a Beatle, John Lennon, Yoko Ono, two acoustic guitars (the second played by Tommy Smothers!), and a roomful of friends/celebs/sycophants make a raucous campfire noise in support of worldwide goodvibes. No deep thoughts to be found therein (the stream-of-consciousness verses are largely incidental), but it’s raw and immediate, just as it needed to be. Which is why I’ve spent the last bunch o’ years considering “Give Peace A Chance” alongside McCartney’s similarly-hokey post-9/11 single “Freedom,” because – no matter what you think of the icky political whatsis surrounding the latter – both guys were shooting for the same thing: Whip up a simple, memorable, of-its-time, stomp-clamp anthem for People Who Want One. Sure, the market success of Paul’s sleeker effort certainly didn’t match that of John’s, but from a purely song-based perspective I think both achieved what they set out to do (though the fact that the masses didn’t embrace “Freedom” as they did “Peace” ultimately marks it a failure). For-what-it’s-worth sidenote: McCartney has since renounced his composition and has taken to covering Lennon’s on his 2009 tour.

Meanwhile, Yoko, backed by John on “Sun King”-esque acoustic, provides the lo-fi B-side, a breathy, gentle lullaby/ballad that sounds like a “White Album” demo and gives no hint of the abrasiveness of much of her later work. A track of both significant quality and interest.

Led Zeppelin - Black Dog

2009-12-18T12:12:00.001-08:00

(Atlantic, 1971)

I worked in a supermarket through high school, and one of the great pleasures of the weeknight shift was punching out just in time to drive home to “Get the Led Out,” 101.1’s 10pm rock-block of Led Zeppelin songs. The likes of “Kashmir” and “Trampled Underfoot” were staples of the set, and I’d crank the volume to obnoxious levels as I rolled through town behind the wheel of my mom’s car, feeling groovy in my apron and tie. Much as I loved the stuff, though, it would be years before I actually owned any Zeppelin, because it’s always been my experience that a guy can turn on the radio at any time of the day in any part of the country and hear them on at least one of the classic rock stations. So why buy the cow?, as they say. Anyway, what this means is that while I am quite familiar with the band’s catalog, I only know a select few of the songs by name, and neither side of this single was one where I’d bothered to mentally pair title with riff. “Black Dog”? The one where it sounds like Jimmy Page and John Bonham go out of synch with each other during the bridge (that section has always kinda annoyed me). “Misty Mountain Hop”? The one with the funky-strut electric piano part reminiscent of “Mama Told Me Not to Come.” So yeah! You, like me, may not remember the titles, but you, like me, have heard ’em all and know ’em all, because MAN these songs are hooky and memorable! AND THEY’RE PLAYED CONSTANTLY ON THE RADIO.

LCD Soundsystem - All My Friends

2009-12-15T23:49:00.000-08:00

(EMI/DFA, 2007)

LCD Soundsystem pulls a nifty trick on the multi-part “All My Friends” single, drafting John Cale to cover the title track on one version of the 7”, and Franz Ferdinand on the other. Cale even gets A-side honors, giving the song more of an ominous Bowie/Eno feel by emphasizing the stark and jagged elements of its composition as he half-bellows what are actually quite reflective lyrics. The LCD Soundsystem take is included on the other side, and, while one of the band’s best tracks, it adds little value here in standard LP form beyond making clear, in this context, that the song’s repeating piano line likely owes a fair amount to Cale’s influence (for example, see his New York in the 1960s series of releases). But even if one already owns Sound of Silver, this is well worth finding for the excellent Cale cover. Heck, might as well get the Franz Ferdinand 7”, too; it sounds exactly like you’d expect it to sound and thus isn’t too bad.

Playing this record and digging out my copy of Fear has renewed my interest in John Cale’s catalog, so I headed over to eBay, where I bought Vintage Violence, Paris 1919, Helen of Troy, Animal Justice, and Sabotage to supplement the handful of LPs currently in my clutches. My question now is whether it’s worth pursuing his music after 1980, having heard and loathed both Caribbean Sunset and John Cale Comes Alive. “All My Friends” suggests that all hope is not lost… any hidden goodies from his later career?

LCD Soundsystem - Disco Infiltrator

2009-12-13T23:55:00.000-08:00

(EMI/DFA, 2005)

A little clubbier than I might prefer, this one, subtracting the grit and humor of the best LCD Soundsystem songs in favor of a somewhat beat/coke-oriented W’burg/LES sheen. B- material, and the synths sound bigtime like a late-’70s Kraftwerk sample… “Hall of Mirrors”? The liners don’t indicate any such samplery, however, so I’ll take their (its) word for it. THIS TIME. And the flip? Another live-on-Brit-radio cover, here a driving BUT so-so take on Siouxsie and the Banshees’ “Slowdive.” If you don’t own this single – which EMI mysteriously and expensively jazzed up with heavy vinyl and a bonus poster – feel free to keep those tempting razors far, far away from your eminently slittable wrists; thing’s no hot dick-shake. Still…you know what I like about James Murphy? Guy’s a schlub. A nasal shouter. That hair might be carefully mussed, but he still comes off as a used-bin record-geek everyman, and I have found him to be quite likeable both on stage and on disc. So let that be known, o town of NY!

LCD Soundsystem - Daft Punk Is Playing At My House

2009-12-10T23:49:00.001-08:00

(EMI/DFA, 2005)

Reckon I got into LCD Soundsystem like most people did: “Losing My Edge” came out in 2002, I loved it, and I then religiously followed the trickle of singles that led up to the eventual full-length in 2005. In retrospect, I’m a little surprised that I was committed enough to walk over to the now-dead Virgin Megastore during my lunch breaks in order to buy the band’s major-label import 7”s… and yet here’s the vinyl evidence gathering dust in my apartment. No regrets, though. “Daft Punk is Playing at My House” is a beefy, handclappy, percussion-laden nerdfest that narrates the tense hours before the titular happening, and it’s nearly as funny as the aforementioned “Edge” while upping the overall instrumental density and twitchiness. The 7” presents the radio edit, which is effectively a partytime cockblock, truncating a song that absolutely deserves to stretch out to LP/12” length. The B-side turns that complaint into a minor quibble, however, as a fantastic BBC recording of “Jump Into the Fire” shows off James Murphy’s touring band, a tuff but tight dance/rock group that features pretty nasty bass and non-puss guitar; Harry Nilsson ends up being a great fit for a cover. Could be that I’m just getting old, but this stuff – unlike most of the other NYC dance-oriented bands of the time – strikes me as having aged extremely well. Still exciting to these ears.

Lavender Faction - Ride

2009-12-06T22:28:00.000-08:00

(Lust, 1990)

Well well well. Some PRICK sold me a Lavender Faction 7” packaged in the wrong sleeve! So now I’m sitting here like a deityfuckin CHUMP with a “Ride” 45 (not pictured) sitting all cozy inside the “In My Mind” artwork (pictured). Yeah? YEAH! DAMM SON. Still, all aren’t ain’t lost. Why? Because the music is topper-popper swell, see. And if a random blogman out there is truthful and Ride for certain took their name from the same-titled A-side, I can VERY MUCH understand that, because this is pretty much the template for that band’s commercialized shoegaze fuzzpop. Choppy, chiming distorto-stuff where the guitar-sound is more important than the vocal-hap… you know the drill. And both sides here bring it BIG in that fashion. Silly and sad that this band never got around to doing a full-length, because they deserved far better than the singles-only obscurity they got kicked into; greatness (or goodness) coulda been had with ease. Weird how these things work out.

Last Of The Juanitas - The Jay

2009-12-05T19:00:00.000-08:00

(Wantage, 2000)

I was pretty excited about Big Business a few years ago, so I went nuts and bought a pile of Wantage releases – they had some deal where you paid thirty or forty bucks and received a massive sampling of the label’s wares. This Last of the Juanitas single was part of that mailing, and, uh, I’m just getting around to listening to it for the first time tonight. Sounds kinda like a more restrained Pussy Galore, keeping the scuzzy trash-rock elements but slowing it down and adding an element of instrumental competence and in-song tempo variance that Spencer’s group often lacked. Heavy stuff, largely instrumental, and boozy as they come; ’tis truly screaming hangover muzak, and that’s a compliment. Yet: Can’t say that I have much love for the Sun Ra cover on the other side, though Thurston Moore enthusiasts might enjoy its free-jazz meanderings.

Landis - The Water's Electric

2009-12-02T23:09:00.000-08:00

(Drive-In/Siladi, 1998)

Another hunk o' indiepop with distortion, buried vocals, and some lo-fi-MBV guitarblasts, a formula pulled off far more effectively (and with better melodies) by countless American bands throughout the ’90s. Based on the evidence here, defunct Michigan musictootlers Landis on a good day would’ve rated as Slumberland C-listers earlier in the decade. Sure, there are far worse things to be than that, of course, but just know ye well that this dinky one-sided (NOW COME ON, GUYS!) 7” isn’t anything particularly special or memorable. Prime dollar bin fodder.

And hey, not to change the subject, but let’s change the subject. Am I crazy, or does the part in Alice Cooper’s “Elected” right before the line “We’re gonna win this one, take the country by storm” sound a WHOLE LOT like the dramatic bit leading into “The highway’s jammed with broken heroes…” in “Born to Run”?! This has been weighing heavily on me, what with Cooper having blatted his biz first.

Lambchop - Up With People

2009-12-01T23:41:00.000-08:00

(City Slang, 2000)

Every time I bother to throw one my cruelly-neglected Lambchop discs on the stereo, I find myself enjoying their lush pop sounds a great deal and thus make a mental note about how I need to purchase more of their albums. Which, for years, is something I’ve never followed through on. UNTIL NOW! After reviewing “Soaky in the Pooper” Sunday night, I finally decided to give these Nashvillains their due (and my cash) by ordering a hefty haul of seven LPs in one fell swoop, and if any of those are half as satisfying as the largely faultless Nixon, I’ll be a happy headphoneman. Cuz that album’s a real groover, see. And “Up With People” is the single, a toe-tappy AM-radio swinger with an arrangement (heavy on the horns and gospel-tinged backing vocals) that’ll please non-rock generations mightily. I could see Kurt Wagner’s ironic-sounding croon putting some off, but his songs are so well-constructed and well-played that it’s tough not to be won over; dude’s a bit like a twangier Liam Hayes. The Vic Chesnutt cover on the flip, “Miss Prissy,” is soothing in a Neil-Young-when-he-does-quiet kind of way, and makes for another horn-laced winner… find it here or on the Tools in the Dryer rarities comp.

Lambchop - Soaky In The Pooper

2009-11-29T22:50:00.000-08:00

(Merge, 1994)

A song about offing yourself! In the toilet! By drowning! Yes sir, we’ve all considered doing JUST THAT every now and then, but perhaps it’s better to experience death vicariously through Lambchop’s lovely “Soaky in the Pooper,” which tells a black tale of suicide and its aftermath over lowing horns and pluck-a-pluck strings, Kurt Wagner’s deadpan delivery giving gravity to even the recitation of the ridiculous title line (which is brilliantly rhymed with “Better call the super”!). The studio-/tape-edit-trickery bullshit of B-side “Two Kittens Don’t Make a Puppy” is worthless, however; even the most dire of Elephant 6’ers would be ashamed to include this on any release. Still, if nothing else, I suppose it indicates that Lambchop, even in its earliest days, had ambitions far beyond the orchestral country-pop ghetto to which many wanted to consign the band. And as I sit here mulling this mellow-yet-dark record, you know what? I realize yet again that I really like these guys!

Oh, and speaking of “liking,” I’d “LIKE” to give a very special “fuck you” to the Spanish-speaking fellow who felt the need to scream into his cellphone through the final hour of our choo-choo trip to New York City tonight. I’d been hoping to rest in peaceful, grave-like silence as we rolled on down the tracks, but this dink made it necessary for me to blast loud music through my headphones in an effort to drown him out. So consider my nerves frazzled and my panties twisted on this post-Thanksgiving Sunday.

Ladybug Transistor - Brighton Bound

2009-11-23T00:00:00.000-08:00

(Elefant, 2000)

Chocolate vinyl, vanilla music. Tee hee! But seriously, people, I never thought that the Ladybug Transistor quite lived up to their buddies (and bandmates) the Essex Green when it came to crafting, uh, charming pastoral chamber-pop. While they arguably might’ve had more breadth (as demonstrated by the convincing spaghetti-isms of “Cienfuegos”), they just didn’t have the extra songwriting oomph to push themselves beyond being – despite the horns and baritone vox – at best a junior-varsity Plush, let alone ever manage to create something as perfect as the EG’s “Fabulous Day.” All of which unfairly comes off as a slap, cuz this music is undeniably fine and, yes, quite nice… I’m just saying it’s not going to end up on a desert island with me anytime soon. And, for the record, “Brighton Bound” is on Argyle Heir, while “Cienfuegos” is on The Albemarle Sound, which makes this heavy-wax import single superfluous in the extreme. Still, as indicated, you might as well give the songs a listen over the internet the next time you have a moment or three; stuff ain’t bad.

Labradford - Julius

2009-11-22T16:24:00.000-08:00

(Merge, 1994)

I suppose I should account for my absence this past week. You see, I was in Portland (The Bearded City), where I was attending a supercomputing conference and generally enjoying the cheap, rainy livin’… though the best part of the trip was not to come until the flight home, when I shared an airplane with Everclear’s Art Alexakis. Not only was the guy flying economy (latest album musta stiffed), there was also an entertaining anecdote to be collected and shared: my boss sat directly behind him, and at one point his seat started shaking so violently that she thought he was having a seizure. Upon leaning forward to make sure he was OK, she saw that famed vocalist Art was in fact laughing hysterically at a “greatest bloopers” video that was being screened as in-flight entertainment. Ha! A true man of the people!

Labradford is people too, so we can now transition neatly into a brief review of this rather swell early single. The group takes many of its cues from Sonic Boom’s work in Spectrum and late-period Spacemen 3, with its glacial minimalism and sung-spoke vocals. Quite pretty in a chilly sort of way, even if songs like the church-y, drumless “Julius” never build to any satisfying conclusion. “Columna de la Independencia” is similarly languid, like a sleepier, moodier American Analog Set (and it wouldn’t surprise me at all if the AmAnSet guys were big Labradford fans in the early days). Neither song is significantly better than what you can find on the band’s easily-had LPs, but it’s all still manna from above for fans of druggy ’90s post-rock.

L7 - Everglade

2009-11-12T23:05:00.000-08:00

(Slash, 1992)

First, some personal business. Jason from the hyper-informative 7 Inches blog recently posted a recording of a telephone conversation we had, so please go forth and thrill to the beautiful sound of my sleepy voice as a coupla disc-geeks discuss various record-related topics at length. And as you look over his site, be sure to note that Jason is far smarter than I am in that he focuses on exciting NEW music while I waste my ever-shrinking time with oft-terrible older stuff. ALTHOUGH! To leap to my own defense, I do have my moments: Why, just last night I bought a copy of the latest Neil Hamburger 7”, a raging pisser on which he sings with Australian punk band The Hard-Ons. Famed rag The Village Voice happened to be on hand to document my purchase, and their website now carries the handsome photographic evidence. Calling all ladies!

Yes people, as the weather turns cold it’s a hot time indeed for the staff here at I Think I Hate My 45s, and things are only getting hotter as we stride boldly forth into reviews of bands whose names begin with the letter “L” (that being the hottest letter).

But oops: Unfortunately, L7 gets us off to a lousy start.

Yeah, lousy. I mean, it’s chunky riff-stuff with Vig production, so there’s a certain sheen that’s not exactly unappealing, but I can’t work up more than half-mast sympathy for the dum-dum anti-machoisms of the failed call-to-arms “Everglade.” Embarrassing it ain’t, but Grohl-meets-Hanna limp is what it is, so forget about it. And there’s even LESS brainpower on display on the B-exclusive “Freak Magnet,” which is a vomitous outsider wannabe-anthem that should’ve been left in the middle-school diary from which it apparently came. My knowledge of the L7 catalog is pretty limited, but was EVERYTHING they wrote intended to be a low-IQ rallying cry for the kids? And, like these songs, did all of those recordings fall totally flat on their faces? Answer or don’t!

Kudgel - Alphabet Song

2009-11-11T00:40:00.000-08:00

(Cinderblock, 1991)

For their debut, these Boston-area loudguys offer up a funny, foulmouthed take on ye olde alphabet ditty, with guitar-crazy choruses that call to mind what the folks in the Baker-fronted Mercury Rev were soon to be gettin’ up to themselves a few states over. The lyrical/compositional nuttiness of the song, however, perhaps places the tune more squarely in Cows territory – an equally fine place to be. B-side “Eskimo Pie” makes for a similarly intriguing Rev/Cows combo, its fucked sweet-n-gruff vocals and feedback antics balancing the melody and noise sides of the scales quite effectively. Winners both. And while the station sticker on my copy of this single, generously – ahem – “donated” to me by an obscenity-conscious WERS, warns “DO NOT PLAY,” you’d be something more than a fool to pass up any chance to check this one out should the opportunity ever present itself; unheralded though it may be in 2009, thing’s as good a piece of plastic to issue forth from the whateverground of the early ’90s as anything else collecting dust out there in record-store land.

Further: Cheeky chimpies, Kudgel packaged all 750 copies of “Alphabet Song” with “bonus singles” likely culled from local Salvation Army shops. Mine, long since gone, was Sonny & Cher’s “Baby Don’t Go.”

Kiss - Having Fun On Stage With Stanley

2009-11-03T23:07:00.000-08:00

(no label, 19??)

Like the similarly-titled Elvis record before it, “Having Fun On Stage With Stanley” showcases the deep thoughts of a messianic dummy IN HIS ELEMENT by documenting the between-song stage banter of said goofus LIVE and RAW. Meaning that you’re getting prime Starchild here, buddy, as Paul shrieks and lisps his way through a series of passionate-yet-unconvincing spoken intros that touch on groupies, booze (COLD GIN!), Michael Jackson, and all manner of bizarre/gross penile innuendo. For kicks, a transcript of one of the tamer tracks:

“People! There are two ways, there are TWO WAYS I can talk to you people tonight. I can talk to you people like this is an audience at a rock and roll concert. Or I can talk to you people like you were our friends. Now, we have been to Los Angeles enough times to know that the people who came here tonight are most definitely OUR FRIENDS. Now I want to tell you a little story. But this is just between you and me. But I want to caution all you people: this story is a little bit… DIRTY. So if any of you people are offended by that kind of stuff, GET THE FUCK OUT. ARE YOU READY LOS ANGELES?! Because I’m gonna warn you one more time: this story has to do with S-E-X. This afternoon… this afternoon, we flew into Los Angeles, California, we landed in LAX airport, must’ve been about 3:30 this afternoon, and we was walkin’ through the terminal when all of a sudden a stewardess comes walkin’ over to me and says, ‘Are you in a band?’ And you know the way I dress. I looked at this girl and I said, ‘No, sweetheart, I am not in a band; I am a doctor.’ She said, ‘Really?!’ I said, ‘Baby, I am DOCTOR LOVE.’ Then she says to me, ‘You’re really a doctor, huh?’ And I said, ‘Baby, not only am I a doctor, but you see these guys over here? We are aaaaaaall doctors, and we are on our way to the Forum tonight to do a serious, major operation.’ Now, I’m lookin’ this girl upside down, I’m lookin’ her up, I’m lookin’ her down, I’m lookin’ at her sideways, and all of a sudden she says, ‘You know something? I know who you are. You are in a band.’ And I said to her, ‘Baby, I am not in a band, I am in THE band!!’”

…And cheers erupt, etc. At once hilarious, humiliating, horrifying, and hypnotic, this is in many ways the definitive Kiss record. Really: what sums the band up better than a series of crude, misogynistic, weirdly-compelling pimple-faced fantasies? This is IT, unfiltered, with no guitars/drums/bass to get in the way. The later appearance of the monster 70-track banter comp People, Let Me Get This Off My Chest (which doesn’t include everything found here) diminishes somewhat the importance of this 7”, but the disc’s still a very worthwhile find for the devoted, as Paul Stanley is undeniably a genius of... uh... well... sorts. And hey, if nothing else, these bootlegs are at least a whole lot more fun than the pitiful Live to Win and Sonic Boom travesties recently dumped onto the market. Get ’em, you!

Kinks - Me And My Brother

2009-11-02T19:29:00.000-08:00

(Frog, 19??)

One more Kinks review, and it’s a four-song collection of audience recordings from post-Think Visual tours, taped at various locations between May, 1987, and April, 1988. Happily, the rougher sound quality (and career-spanning song selection) makes this hodgepodge much more enjoyable than the band’s bland, glassy studio albums of the time, with a clunker like “How Are You” benefiting noticeably from a snappier tempo and cruder taping. The other three tracks are interesting novelties in that they’re all songs sung by Ray on the LPs and here handed off to Dave in the live setting. I’m certainly no rah-rah fan of the younger Davies’ voice, but he acquits himself well on both “Sleepwalker” and a raw “You Really Got Me,” even if he can’t quite give “Too Much on My Mind” the delicate treatment it needs. While hardly a spectacular boot, this is a nice companion to the not-as-awful-as-it-should-be The Road live alb that was recorded around the same time. Heck, if anyone’s dumb enough to ever reissue that unloved disc, these tracks would make for real fine bonus tracks. Worth considering, richie riches of the world.

Kinks - Lost And Found

2009-11-01T13:31:00.000-08:00

(MCA, 1987)

BREAKING! Kinks in adult-contemporary autopilot-hackery shocker! Yup, “Lost and Found,” which lent its name to an MCA comp that was a cutout-bin mainstay in my formative years, has all the clichés: a midtempo plod, sleek synths, two lame guitar solos, and screaming saxophones. Practically comes off as a parody of such late-’80s nonsense; thing could’ve easily featured on the soundtrack of a cheesy Top Gun-style movie. Oh, and “Killing Time” makes another appearance on the B-side, where it continues to stink.

Sigh.

You know, grumping about lousy Kinks records for the last few weeks has ceased to be much fun, so I’ll inject some positivity by mentioning that the reunited Jesus Lizard is terrific in concert. And that Andrew Loog Oldham’s symphonic Rolling Stones Songbook album is a must-hear. And that John Bellairs remains a pleasure to read. Yeah: hooray for stuff!

Kinks - How Are You

2009-10-31T17:07:00.000-07:00

(London, 1986)

Two midtempo mediocrities from Think Visual, though, to be fair, these are two of the better songs on that abomination. Whee! “How Are You” is a mature response to a relationship gone bad, crooned in a manner reminiscent of mid-’80s Bowie, and “Killing Time” sounds surprisingly like a period Jeff Lynne production. Which raises this point: aside from the fact these simply aren’t very good songs, it bugs me that the Kinks, in their final years, have not only tried to become JUST LIKE everybody else on the dinosaur circuit, they’ve also failed miserably at it. The result is boring cookie-cutter rock for old people that sounds like it was created by a bunch of disinterested session hacks.

Kinks - Rock 'N' Roll Cities

2009-10-27T20:52:00.000-07:00

(MCA, 1986)

You know what my Kinks reviews have in common with the band’s career? Both are interminable and depressing. Crikey, “Rock ’N’ Roll Cities”? What is this shit? I can’t imagine there’s a worse single in the Kinks’ discography than this appalling turd, which lays out the age-old laundry list of touring-band gripes in the most generic fashion possible over humiliating bar-band backing. Oh, wait! Ha ha! You made up some jokey radio station call letters, one of which is K-O-N-K!! Truly, you’re both a wit and a visionary genius, Dave! Also: FUCK YOU. And “Welcome to Sleazytown” is as bad as its title, a slow, bluesy lump of a song that once again demonstrates Ray’s near-total inability, by the late 1980s, to write – as he once did so easily – lyrics or music capable of moving his audience. Pathetic stuff. Here’s where the Kinks become a joyless, characterless, mindless husk of a band. This is bad music. It really is.

Kinks - Do It Again

2009-10-26T13:07:00.000-07:00

(Arista, 1984)

Word of Mouth – drum machines and all – is an improvement over the putrid State of Confusion, but it’s pretty clear that Ray’s already-suspect creativity is sapped when the album’s single bites the opening chord of “A Hard Day’s Night,” morphs into a bad Pete Townshend impression, and then, inexplicably, rips off 1968 B-side “She’s Got Everything.” Maybe the whole thing’s a stroke of brilliance meant to illustrate the “nothing is ever really new” mopery of the lyrics. Or maybe Ray’s just out of new musical ideas. And given how little of his songwriting during this decade stands out as anything resembling MEMORABLE or EXCITING (or even WORTH OWNING), I’m putting my money on the latter being the case. Brother Dave’s not faring too well here either, with “Guilty” blaring forth as yet another boring, riff-by-numbers rocker – albeit with an OK chorus – that’s further sandbagged by Dave’s rotten vocals. Always strained and weak-sounding going back to the ’60s, his nasal yowlings are by this point brutal on the ears.

And just to kick the Kinks while they’re down, can anyone out there think of a band that had nearly as “impressive” a run of hideous album covers as these guys did from ’83 through ’88? I mean, good gravy… State of Confusion, Word of Mouth, Think Visual, and The Road are spectacularly ugly artifacts. Eyeball obscenities, all of ’em.

Kinks - Lola

2009-10-24T14:32:00.000-07:00

(PRT, 1984)

Reissue madness from the zany Spaniards, who take one song from Lola Versus Powerman and the Moneygoround, one song from Arthur, cram ’em onto a 7”, and wrap the results in a psychedelicized Village Green Preservation Society sleeve! Such releases are usually crude budget items, so I straight-up dropped my monocle into my martini the first time I saw this fine fella hangin’ out on the shelves of eBay, but recovered quickly enough to send a few coins over to Europe for the thing. Lucky lucky! Now I can inform one and all that this earth-shattering, axis-rocking single contains the stereo “cherry cola” mix of “Lola” and the standard LP version of “Victoria.” And speaking of “Victoria,” I’ve always wondered what’s up with Ray’s voice on there... Why’d he decide to sing it with that then-unheard, lower-register booziness?! I love it plenty, but it’s certainly jarring the first time you hear him mooing away like that! Kinda makes me nervous that there’s a joke here that I’m not in on.

Kinks - State Of Confusion

2009-10-20T21:53:00.000-07:00

(Arista, 1984)

The only CONFUSION one should having regarding this British EP is why it EXISTS, consisting as it does of two then-current LP tracks and edits of two songs off of the band’s 1980 live record. The bits lifted from State of Confusion – the title track and “Heart of Gold” – represent both sides of the bozo-rock coin that make that album such a disaster (one tuff/paranoid growler, one sensitive/Pretenders-style midtempo yawn). An accurate representation of the increasingly tired Kinks at this time, I suppose, but hardly a flattering one. The live songs, meanwhile, are the macho stadium versions of “Lola” and “20th Century Man” that chumps the world over had already bought years earlier on One For the Road. Weird. Honestly, I’m not sure whether this disc was released to promote a tour of the UK, to expose the back catalog to newly-minted fans of “Come Dancing,” or just thrown out there as a cynical (and lousy!) piece of product. All three, perhaps.

Kinks - Father Christmas

2009-10-19T22:07:00.000-07:00

(Flashback, 1983)

Sometimes life teaches you things. Like Thursday, when I pulled my air conditioner in after a rainstorm and, it being filled with water, promptly dumped a gallon of cloud-piss onto my bedroom floor.

Sometimes Arista reissues things. Like 1983, when the label paired two Kinks singles of the ’70s for a budget 7” and, it being a pointless catalog goosing, promptly dumped tons of unwanted vinyl onto the market.

See what I did there? It’s called craftsmanship. Savor it while I savor my Pulitzer.

All seriousness aside, though – I did in fact win a Pulitzer – this Frankenstein reissue of two semi-golden semi-oldies is a real jukebox champ: “Father Christmas” is mid-/late-period Kinks recalling their snotty/pissed best circa ’64, and “(Wish I Could Fly Like) Superman” is perhaps the finest, heppest, slinkiest ’60s-band-gone-disco song out there… sure beats hell on “Goodnight Tonight,” “Miss You,” and even (MAYBE) “Wiggle That Wotsit.” A pointless cheapie not worth owning, this, but still, thing’s admittedly an impeccable two-song comp. And there’s enough similarly solid stuff out there that if you spring for an LP-length assemblage of Ray’s best from these years you’ll manage to appreciate the guy’s occasional hiccups of brilliance as spread – however thinly – throughout the RCA/Arista/MCA era; I give him a hard time, but dude was OK. Frustrating as heck, but generally OK.

Kinks - Come Dancing

2009-10-18T22:22:00.000-07:00

(Arista, 1983)

Yup, you know it: This is the big ol’ hit offa that famed album where an ageing Mick Avory, one fifth of the world’s Ugliest Band, is snapped lumbering through the cover-shot in an unfortunate sweatsuit. Yikes! He, all a-perspiring, clearly dug deep for that sprint, so let’s assign credit where due: nicely done, Mick! Gold star for you! And, sure, yeh, while we’re handing out plaudits based on State of Confusion, let’s toss one to the previously catchysong-barren RAY, what with “Come Dancing,” last of the Kinky smashes, being a synth-kissed way-back-when-fest that sledgehammers home most of the standard Davies lyrical obsessions while wrapping everything up in a tidy radio-bow. You: dig the craftsmanship, dig the steel-drum pep, dig the big-band horns at the end. A tasty trifle! Like it! Love it! Congrats, Raymond; you pulled one last nostalgia-hump outta your rump! Huzzah! And yet… the non-LP “Noise” on the B is a sour, curmudgeonly response to mid-’80s radio that’s made all the worse given Ray’s INABILITY TO LOOK IN THE MIRROR and realize that he’s gotta suck big dong on that front, given that he’s desperately trying to get himself on the airwaves at this point by adapting his sound to current trends. A pathetic lyric, a pathetic sentiment, a pathetic song… if anything marks the end of the Kinks as a to-be-taken-seriously thingy, it’s this embarrassing whine-fest. The A was a hit, but the B makes it clear: GIVE UP, RAY. YOU’RE OLD AND OUTTA TOUCH. So? BOO.

Kinks - Better Things

2009-10-15T18:40:00.000-07:00

(Arista, 1981)

The second American single from Give the People What They Want backs away from the big-gesture aggression of the “Destroyer” 45 by pairing two of the album’s more thoughtful, midtempo songs for 7” release. “Better Things” (now 15 seconds longer than on the LP; ZOINKS!) was a radio hit, but a rather unlikely one due to a wobbly, tentative delivery by Ray and rhythmically-awkward lyrics in the verses that are only semi-successfully shoehorned into the melody. And while there’s definitely something “off” and demo-ish about the whole thing, I suppose there’s enough here to enjoy, like a nice dual-guitar line in the chorus and an overall air of optimism that’s refreshing as compared to the rest of the songs on the album. The significantly darker “Yo-Yo” is a return to sharp, regular-guy character sketches a la Something Else, but with Ray shouting the arena-crunch chorus in his stupid Jagger-of-the-’80s bellow, this is easily identifiable as a Give the People track and not some lost ’60s classic: ultimately, as on the A-side, it’s a good lyric matched with some decent if unremarkable songwriting. So what’s not to tolerate?

Kinks - Destroyer

2009-10-13T22:50:00.000-07:00

(Arista, 1981)

There’s so much to dislike on “Destroyer” – the recycling of the “All Day and All of the Night” riff, the gratuitous reappearance of the Lola character, the simplistic red/bed/head rhymes, the bar-band keyboard – that I’m a little bit ashamed by how much I enjoy this gloriously stupid song. It: Calculated…crappy…catchy. Me: CONFLICTED. Which is actually how I feel about most of Give the People What They Want, a guilty-pleasure fave of an album where the Kinks, trying to ape their more successful musical offspring (circa ’81), indulge in big, dumbed-down guitar moves that are bizarrely SHOUTED over by a middle-aged, fashion-conscious, skinny-tie wearing Ray Davies. The weird and fun thing with this material, though, is that thanks (I figure) to the presence of horrible-solo-album-makin’ Dave, the Kinks go beyond new-wave pussyisms and creep into boneheaded Kiss-style territory on songs like B-side “Back to Front,” which is driven by some fantastic chunka-chunka guitar and caveman drums. Lookee: the Kinks prove themselves supremely capable of doing STOOPID quite well here, and given that that’s the direction they’d clearly been moving in since Low Budget, it’s odd to realize that the one thing holding them back from achieving true braindead TRANSCENDENCE (again: Kiss) is the stubborn refusal of Ray’s few remaining shreds of cleverness and craftsmanship to give up the ghost – social commentary and conceptual hoo-haw still abound. It all leads to an odd mixture of beefy fist-pump and psuedo-poetic over-exertion, but thankfully the final product skews dumb, and we’re all the better for that. Find this one in your local dollar bin and hear that I’m right. YOU BETTER ADMIT IT.

Kinks - Celluloid Heroes (live)

2009-10-11T00:14:00.000-07:00

(Arista, 1980)

Wheeee, the Kinks recorded an overdub-heavy double live album at the end of the ’70s. And wheeee they bothered to release a single from it, perhaps trying to shamefacedly give “Celluloid Heroes” the chart opportunity it should have had back in ’72. Fuck it: As with most live records, this stuff follows the tired “play it faster, play it louder” formula that has resulted in many a pointless concert-souvenir cash-in over the years. Plus you get obnoxious Wings-style synths and some sweaty guitar-noodling by Dave that detracts from the fragility of the original. So why bother? And on the other side, if you’re silly enough to care, the audience-heavy recording of “Lola” is muscular and energetic, but still begs the same question.

Yet: Biggest head-scratcher? Why’s there a palm frond on the cover of this record?! Ray, TELL A GUY.

Kinks - Father Christmas

2009-10-10T18:18:00.000-07:00

(Arista, 1977)

I can only imagine the excitement felt by the citizens of 1976 when it was reported (on the internet of 1976) that famous baldy Clive Davis had hung Ray Davies by his ankles off of a 20th-story balcony, demanding that he stop recording shitty rock operas. Ray found Clive’s message to be persuasive, and thus, fellow Red Sox fans, did we get Sleepwalker and Misfits, two albums of boring, middle-aged plod-rock that induce yawns aplenty by offering up ultra-slick, Showbiz-style rock-life complaints; beefy, dum-dum Seger-isms; and keyboardarific proto-power ballads. Now, as much as those reviled concept records tended to stink, they at least had a distinctly Kinksian personality… these albums play like Ray Davies wrote them desperately needing a hit and is therefore trying to fit into some sort of AOR mainstream that he doesn’t really understand; it’s here where the Kinks fall behind the times rather than simply out of step with them.

But between those two LPs, the band released “Father Christmas,” a non-album holiday single that showed there might still indeed be some life left in these paunch-rockers. With a sneering, class-conscious lyric about mugging Santa Claus, it’s the most frantic, supercharged song from the Kinks since maybe 1966 (laugh all you want, but calling it Motorhead-lite is just a slight exaggeration), and its memorable chorus and hooks are a welcome respite from the facelessness of so much of Ray’s writing around this time. You: Love it! And then play it repeatedly on your local bowling-alley jukebox, just as I did all the time back in high school! And then prepare to be disappointed by the B-side! “Prince of the Punks,” allegedly a slam directed at ex-bud Tom Robinson, swipes the chorus of “Substitute” and hopefully – given its piano, horns, and bouncy choogle – isn’t actually supposed to sound like punk. The “Substitute” rip could be considered semi-clever, what with the Sex Pistols covering that song and all, but the whole thing isn’t nearly as sharp or damning as I’m sure Ray thought it was at the time.

The A-side is now a bonus track on the Misfits CD, the B is on the Sleepwalker reissue. Good to know, but Smarty Smartman will get either the original 7” or the 99-cent download of “Father Christmas” and just ignore the rest of that era’s Kinks material altogether.

Kinks - Sweet Lady Genevieve

2009-10-06T23:57:00.000-07:00

(RCA, 1973)

The two-volume Preservation saga is the first major embarrassment for the Kinks (but don’t worry – there are plenty more to come!), a pair of bloated, confused albums almost stunningly uncompelling and inessential in concept, composition, and execution. Still, among the pretentious wreckage of boring rockers and odious show tunes, there are a few tracks that can stand quite ably on their own, and “Sweet Lady Genevieve,” wisely chosen as a single, is one of them. This is a folksy stomp that could have easily come from the group’s ’67-’69 glory days – simple, sunny, laid-back, outstanding melody. It’s pretty much the last gasp from Ray Davies in this style, and it was released, coincidentally, around the same time as the musically-similar late-’60s outtake/rarity LP The Great Lost Kinks Album. Sounds more like a single pushing that disc than Preservation, sez a guy who tends to be right (me).

Perhaps reflecting band or rec-label awareness of the serious lack of strong material from these sessions (though I do like the “Celluloid Heroes”-esque “Where Are They Now”), Everybody’s in Showbiz’s “Sitting in My Hotel” is dusted off for the B-side of “Genevieve.” Which is fine with me, because, if nothing else, it’s nice that there was an attempt to score further exposure for the song, a slice of sad, piano-led self-examination wherein Davies observes his own rock-star ridiculousness from the viewpoint of his back-when friends. Cutting, hard-hitting stuff, and certainly one that deserves to be included on any Kinks comp that purports to collect the group’s greatest. Just a shame that Ray, his head burrowing its way ever further up his own ass, couldn’t train that same sharp, brutally-honest eye on his laughable Preservation and Soap Opera concepts before he decided to dump them on an instantly-vomiting fanbase (rather than into his own brain-toilet).

You know, I have Preservation Act 1 playing right now as I type, and I realize what it is that REALLY annoys me about this album. It’s the fact that, aside from the obvious dreck – a Lou Reed knockoff?! – there are elements of what COULD HAVE BEEN good songs in here, especially within “Daylight” and “Money & Corruption/I am Your Man.” But instead of developing these bits and pieces into lovely little self-contained tracks, Ray decides to strangle them with distracting, plot-advancing lyrics and the ugly musical/vocal bloat of his bellbottomed theater-troupe nonsense. A frustrating waste; he wasn’t out of ideas by ’73, he was just committed to pursuing grandiose ones he was incapable of pulling off.

Kinks - Supersonic Rocket Ship

2009-10-04T22:36:00.000-07:00

(RCA, 1972)

Mysteries abound on a Sunday night. Like, why did I buy and chew a boneless spare-rib combo from China One? I should have known it would only make me feel ill. And why did some kid of yesteryear write “LOVE IS LOVE – BARRY RYAN” on the back sleeve of my “Supersonic Rocket Ship” single? That ditty by Mr. Ryan alarms me to no end, and I’m not sure why anyone felt compelled to scribble its name on a Kinks 45 in 1972. The biggest mystery of all, however, is why in heck I really, truly LIKE “Supersonic Rocket Ship” when it’s essentially a rewrite of “Apeman,” a song I’m famous the world over for loathing. Escapism, tropical feel, Fey-Ray Davies – it’s all here. Still, as with much of the ultra-silly Everybody’s in Showbiz album, there’s a lazy-yet-punchy feel to the track – dig them horns and kettle drums! – that makes it hard to resist its goofy grooviness. A nifty single, a nifty songle. I woulda maybe preferred to have it paired with the incredible “Sitting in My Hotel,” perhaps the best, most honest song Ray Davies wrote in the ’70s, but hey, instead the B-side is “You Don’t Even Know My Name,” a slide-guitar shitkicker from Dave. Thing would’ve fit better on Muswell Hillbillies or Lola, and yet here it is! Funny how this world works sometimes. Really, though, tune’s fine and so’s life; I bear both but little ill will.

Kinks - God's Children

2009-10-03T16:17:00.000-07:00

(Pye, 1971)

The oft-ignored Percy soundtrack doesn’t get much love from the people of this world, but the Hott XXX Secret I’m gonna tell you now is that it’s actually filled to bustin’ with terrific songs in the basic mold of the Lola LP’s gentler moments. Ignoring the instrumental throwaways that pad out the record, these are mature, thoughtful, well-produced weepies that stand up as some of the strongest ballads Ray Davies ever recorded. “God’s Children” is the best of them, a rousing, string-filled syrup-fest that makes the same “back to nature” case as “Apeman,” but does it successfully and gorgeously, without the smirky, braindead hokiness that sabotaged the earlier track. An excellent song, and it’s almost matched by “Moments” on the B-side, a fragile hanky-honker that sounds quite a bit like something Paul McCartney might have recorded around the same time (especially when the brief guitar solo begins). Man. YOU WERE SO GOOD AT YOUR JOB BACK THEN, RAY DAVIES. And! Sweetening the deal here is the fact that the German wing of Pye Records offers yet another picture sleeve that kicks the ass of your eyeball, making for an absolute winner of a package. But still: Buy the entire album – both songs are on there – and thrill to the last of the classy, subdued, “sixties-sounding” Kinks records. Things were to get pretty rough after this…

Kinks - Apeman

2009-10-02T17:52:00.000-07:00

(Pye, 1970)

If it’s praise for “Apeman” that you seek, seek elsewhere, PAL, because I don’t have many kind things to say about a single that takes Ray Davies’ dead-horse themes of dislocation and escape and forces them into a cloying, dunderheaded novelty entirely lacking in wit. Sure, I can appreciate new-guy John Gosling, who continues to make his presence felt with a pronounced piano/keys oom-pah that adds extra weight to the music, but, as on “Lola,” what’s up with Ray’s “in-character” vocals? That weak, tip-toe style of enunciating that he employs is EXTREMELY irritating, not to mention mildly racist during his terrible “reggae-man” spoken bit. Lousy lyrics (“I’m an apeman, I’m an ape-apeman, oh I’m an apeman / I’m a King Kong man, I’m a voodoo man / Oh I’m an apeman”) compound the problem, making “Apeman” a record that hardly ranks among the finer moments from ol’ Ray, a guy who likes to fancy himself the thinking-fellow’s pop star. Pfft. Clunker though it is, feel free to flip the thing over and enjoy “Rats,” a typically serviceable Dave Davies rawker. While the Kinks aren’t quite capable of running with the Heavy crowd of the early ’70s, this one makes a noble, noisy go of it and actually ain’t half bad. We’ll never see eye to eye on the whole alien-visitation thing, but I think we can at least agree that you did a swell job here, Dave! Common ground, my friend.

Kinks - Lola

2009-09-30T21:29:00.000-07:00

(Pye, 1970)

German issue… same music, better sleeve (for whatever reason, the Germans typically had FANTASTIC ones through the ’70s). What interests me here is that both this and the French pressing, reviewed below, have the “cherry cola” lyric as opposed to the original “Coca Cola.” My understanding is that the Kinks made this change in order to satisfy the BBC’s policies regarding commercial placement, but was the re-recording in fact used across the board for the 7” release worldwide? Hardly a scandal, but I’m at least mildly surprised that the seemingly stubborn Ray Davies would let the international radio version of his comeback hit be the semi-compromised take, even outside of territories where such concessions would have been required for broadcast. Did any countries get the “Coca Cola” line on their 7”s? The good ol’ United States, perhaps? Lemme know!

Kinks - Lola

2009-09-30T21:02:00.000-07:00

(Pye, 1970)

I can remember a grocery-baggin’ period in high school when I would shudder and reach for the dial each time the local classic-rock station trotted this one out, but calendars have changed and so have I, and I gotta cop now to MUCH toe-tappery whenever I hear “Lola.” Undeniable that the song’s instantly memorable, and, for those keen on expending at least minimal brain power on bigger-picture considerations, it DOES emerge from a particularly interesting time for the Kinks. The entire Lola Versus Powerman and the Moneygoround album is a transitional one in that it moves further away from the precious, hyper-conceptual British-isms of albums past by rocking harder (a move hinted at musically on Arthur) while also showing some of the country/Americana influences that would soon dominate the band on Muswell Hillbillies. “Lola” marries these two forward-thinking impulses quite effectively, its big, aggressive choruses alternating with rolling, string-pluckin’ verses, all with a pre-glam gender-bend story slathered atop it. I still have mixed feelings about the way an over-mannered Ray Davies delicately picks his way through the lyrics, but younger-bro Dave’s nasal owl-hoot actually works well here in the background as a complementary vocal part. Also intriguing is the B-side, “Berkeley Mews,” a Village Green Preservation Society outtake that is quite inessential but ends up fitting in surprisingly well – both in its faux-American barrelhouse shtick and sexually-confused lyrics – when paired (two years after its recording) with “Lola.” A relative rarity, the song was mysteriously left off of the late-’90s CD reissues and, on full-lengths, is only easily found on The Kink Kronikles and the 3CD Village Green deluxe set.

The Kingsmen - Louie Louie

2009-09-27T23:34:00.000-07:00

(Wand, 1963)

The best rock single ever? Maybe. Probably? Sure. No point word-wanking about this one; you’ve heard it ten-thousand times and know the deal. And so do I. Thing’s outstanding, stoopid, and perfect. But the B-side, “Haunted Castle,” has rarely received the attention it’s semi-deserved, it being a woozy booty-shake instrumental that manages to – at the very least – nobly stick its chin above the waterline of party-band competency. Catchy enough, and I always appreciated it when the now-dead Soiled Mattress and the Springs used to cover the thing in concert. The Kingsmen themselves apparently succumbed to ultra-litigious showbiz silliness soon after this 45rpm triumph, but at least we can still luv these two songs for the leering dance-wiggle scum-bash that they were and are. So thanks for that, fellas, and have fun at your next state fair or casino or resort appearance, where you’ll still be rockin’ hard despite, ahem, “several personnel changes” in recent decades that pretty much have you doing things phony-baloney style. Whee!!! And I suppose it’s amusing to note that I’ve spent many trashy hours in the vicinity of the old Wand Records headquarters at 1650 Broadway… these days that address is nestled among a McDonald’s and a Mars 2112 theme restaurant. Now, between that fact and the forehead-slappin’ retardedness of the Kingsmen's intra-band lawsuit-legacy, there are probably some deep and valuable truths or least LESSONS about Rock to be learned, but I’m too lazy to probe for them right now. Hey: time for a beer!

Killdozer - Short Eyes

2009-09-24T23:57:00.000-07:00

(Amphetamine Reptile, 1990)

So what’s the deal with that “Featuring Tom Hazelmyer” thingy scrawled across the cover? I’d long assumed that he was just “featured” as an additional player on the disc, but I recently found out that I was WRONG. Oh how wrong I was. Yep, according to an informative interview with Mr. AmRep himself, he was temporarily standing in as THE guitarist for Killdozer while Bill Hobson was out on paternity leave, and during tour rehearsals there happened to occur a recording session that produced the find-em-nowhere-else songs on this single. So that’s interesting. As is this: while the addition of Hazelmyer hardly turns the band into Halo of Flies, there’s more liveliness and trebly elasticity on here than on any Killdozer release in many a moon. Crotch-oriented lyrics on both sides and some floor-rattling guitar on “Short Eyes” offer further guffaws and thrills, but, while a minor (and necessary) departure from the past, neither song is quite up to the sky-high thump-skree standards previously established by the band. Now, don’t get me wrong; I like this record plenty. It’s just that I know Twelve Point Buck, and this is no Twelve Point Buck.

Killdozer - Yow!

2009-09-23T19:28:00.000-07:00

(Touch and Go, 1989)

Criticizing a single that has the best song from the best Killdozer album on one side, a superb Janet Jackson cover on the other, and label-chum David Yow on the sleeve is a total no-can-do; this is prime sleaze-grunge, heavy, scummy, and smart. “Lupus” adds horns to the band’s slow, crushing attack, and stars an especially animated Michael Gerald, who weaves summaries of the works of Flannery O’Connor around a genius chorus: “Lupus took the life of Flannery O’Connor / She wrote many books before death came upon her.” Ha! Funny rhyme, true biographical tidbit! The Jackson song, “Nasty,” tops most of what’s on For Ladies Only (where it wouldn’t have fit, thematically, due to those tracks coming from the late ’60s and early-/mid-’70s), thanks to a mostly-synthetic backing and a low, creepy vocal delivery. When Gerald finally breaks the slinky tension and lets loose with his standard growl-yell on the lines “I’m not a prude / I just want some respect,” that’s about as close as you’re gonna get to pure audio gold, mister. So pencil this one in at the top of your handy “to-get” list, and then go ahead and add the parent LP, Twelve Point Buck (which includes “Lupus,” but not “Nasty”) right under that – I’ll stack side one of that album up against that of almost any other record in terms of sheer perfection.

Killdozer - For Ladies Only

2009-09-21T21:56:00.000-07:00

(Touch and Go, 1989)

Killdozer had a habit of slapping funny, unpredictable li’l covers here and there on their records, taking familiar hits of the past and, well, turning them into Killdozer songs – which more or less meant sludging ’em up with tons of bass and distortion while Michael Gerald lumbered his way through the lyrics in his Gene-Simmons-as-angry-drunk growl. Anyway, having already pulled this trick prior to ’89 with material by Creedence Clearwater Revival, Neil Young, and Neil Diamond, it probably wasn’t too shocking that the band decided to go ahead and record a full LP’s worth of ugly – yet faithful! – covers. Touch and Go went all out, releasing For Ladies Only in a few different configurations (CD, LP, picture disc LP, and 5x7”), and if you’re of the money-spending persuasion, it’s the fancy 7” set that you’re gonna want to possess, both for its unicorn-themed packaging and the presence of a bonus song included nowhere else. That’s right: not only do you get to hear world-famous standards by the likes of Deep Purple, Bad Company, Elvis Presley, Conway Twitty, Coven, Steve Miller Band, Don McLean, and James Gang as interpreted by beloved Milwaukee hitmakers Killdozer, but you ALSO get their spin on a Buffalo Springfield song AT NO EXTRA COST. And how is this exclusive performance of “Mr. Soul”? Does it live up to the rumbling, beer-addled heaviness of the rest of the collection? I wouldn’t know. The used copy I bought of this rare item was MISSING THE DISC WITH “MR. SOUL” ON IT. So who wants to send me a freebie?

Thanks!

While you prepare to mail me your personal copies of For Ladies Only, I’ll leave you now by reprinting the mini-bio (also exclusive to the 7”s!) that Steve Albini wrote for the band, what with it being a real super-hoot and all:

Killdozer may be a new name on the pop scene, but with their smart looks, peppy “now” beat and penny-perfect vocal stylings, that’ll change soon enough. Killdozer have the exciting sound of today, and on this, their first Dynagroove long playing album, they play their driving beat with a twist: Unicorns.

That’s right, Unicorns. With Unicorns behind them, it won’t be long before people all over the globe are saying, “Killdozer? Fuck me, they’re okay.”

Now lets meet these exciting young men, the spearheads of the hottest new sound on the scene.

MICHAEL, who sings and plays guitar for the band, began his performing career early in life, when he joined his mother, a talented musician and entertainer herself, in an onstage rendition of “Tits Ain’t A Big Enough Word For These, Luv.”

“Mister Romance” (as Michael is known to his admirers around the world) is also a well-traveled, highly educated intellectual whose hobbies include lathework and cat polishing.

As for Unicorns, he likes them. “Yeah, I guess so,” he says.

BILL, who sings and plays guitar for the band, has been on the pop scene for a few years. Folks in the know recognize Bill playing the driving guitar on chart-toppers like “My Generation” and “Flying Purple People Eater.”

“Bill” (as Bill is known to his friends) is, like Jesus was, a carpenter, who would be better off learning a respectable trade like dopin’ and pimpin’.

Bill thinks Unicorns are alright. “Unicorns? They’re alright,” he says.

DAN, who sings and plays guitar for the band, enjoys himself the old fashioned way: by drinking himself completely stupid and smashing up the trailer every night.

“The Thinker” (as Dan is known to people who want to make him feel bad) has pen pals of both genders and a collection of different colored feathers. Some with no blood on them.

What does Dan think of Unicorns? They’re tops! “But not that fucking goat I saw at the freak house. That was a fake,” he says.

Kid Champion - Conscious

2009-09-20T16:39:00.000-07:00

(Mint, 1994)

Now here’s an interesting fact for all you fact-loving fact-lovers out there: Know what manner of sexy “schwag” the CIA is handing out at college recruiting events in the year 2009? Psst: I do. Because I obtained it while up in Boston on my business trip last week. And, as you might imagine, the world’s premier intelligence agency is indeed distributing a giveaway well worthy of its high-tech reputation and mindblowing mega-budget. Which can mean only one thing.

A wallet-sized gratuity table.

Yes, friends, the CIA is giving out wallet-sized gratuity tables to the top college students of America, ensuring that they never need to pause for an embarrassing amount of time while trying to calculate 15% or – God forbid! – 20% of their next meal check. An outstanding and thoughtful offering from our beloved spooks. Personally, as one who appreciates the fine work done by the waiters and waitresses of this world, regardless of nationality, I’ll be sure to keep this durable (plastic!) item handy the next time I’m gaming elections in Central America or slipping out for a drink or two near Guantanomo Base. Your tax dollars at work!

Over to you now, Canada.

Hi, Canada here. We’ve got a band called Kid Champion, or at least DID HAVE, back in the mid-’90s, and they, on their one and only release, proved themselves to be a real crock o’ shit. Ha! JUST KIDDING (we love jokes up in Canada)… these folks were in fact kinda OK, more like a “thimble o’ shit” than a full-on “crock” of the stuff. Yeah? I’m saying: Imagine the ultimate Slumberland Records also-ran – complete with ethereal girl-sing and gauzy lo-fi shoegaze aesthetic – and you have yourself a mighty accurate ear-picture of what we’re dealing with on this one. Happens to be a micro-genre I like, though, so I’ll be snide but I won’t be dismissive. Worth a buck? You betcha.

Eddie Kendricks - Shoeshine Boy

2009-09-08T22:58:00.000-07:00

(Tamla, 1975)

Kendricks is an ex-Temptations fella, and he’s doling out some sleek, breezy falsetto-funk here, making glossy genre-product intended for mature radio-ears in much the same way George Harrison did (within a pop/rock context) in the late ’70s. It’s fluff, DIG? The B-Side, “Hooked on Your Love,” is from his previous album and at least has a slightly more dramatic, Blaxploitation-esque feel to it thanks to some punchy string and bongo action, yet it still comes off as too slick and superficial to really take hold. Feel free to appreciate the arrangements and the overall, uh, professionalism of these songs, but you’d have to have a pair of mighty virginal ears to actually find yourself rocked and/or challenged by such stuff.

Not all is grumpiness in my world, however, as I received the following exciting items in the mail this very afternoon: Bobby Beausoleil Lucifer Rising Suite 4LP box; Dan Melchior Und Das Menace Obscured By Fuzz LP; Mayyors 12”; ridiculous Velvet Underground 7x7” reissue box on Sundazed; and, at long last, Forced Exposure issue 7/8. DANG. Sorry, Eddie Kendricks, but you and your scratched-to-all-heck 45 just can’t compete with a nerdy haul like that. SO GET OFF MY TURNTABLE!

Kathode - Kathode

2009-09-07T22:09:00.000-07:00

(Denied A Custom, 1996)

Japanese release from these Michigan scruffies, and it’s pretty-OK, pretty-brutal stuff nestled within your standard grind-y framework: short songs, high-screech/low-growl vox, much drum-driven speed. Nothing especially noteworthy about the actual sounds contained herein (though still a fun slab o’ metal), but it is VERY worth noting that the drummer is a teenaged, pre-celeb Andrew W.K., credited in the liners as both “Glaucomanie” and “Andrew Graucoma.” And while there’s little in Kathode’s sound to suggest the bulldozer-pop of Andrew’s post-2001 career, the electronically-screwed speaker-assault of “Return” on side B definitely calls to mind his solo work (Ancient Art of Boar, “Old Man” on AWKGOJ) and his sonic/social/spiritual ties to Wolf Eyes. Considered alongside AAB, the Pterodactyls, and W.K.’s contributions to Labyrinths & Jokes, it’s actually quite amazing how wide-ranging the guy’s interests and abilities were at such a young age… as another piece of the larger career-puzzle, this record makes for a revealing chunk.

Juicy Eureka - Track 29

2009-09-06T23:29:00.001-07:00

(Juicy, 199x)

Neil Mackay! Neil Mackay from LOOP! Neil Mackay from HAIR & SKIN TRADING COMPANY! Here? Neil Mackay with uninteresting musical comrades! It’s true, I’m afraid. Juicy Eureka is a major step back from the fucked trance-based hard-rockisms of Mackay’s previous bands, opting instead for a watery sound topped off by his girlfriend’s flat yowl. Faint traces of the much-loved Loop/Hair & Skin narco-pummel are identifiable in the locked-in rhythm section, but the whole thing is utterly – tragically! – lacking in the crucial “oomph” department. It’s tiresome, really. Still, completists will dig knowing that there’s an album out there. Me? I’m not interested. Not at all. That’s what my tattoo says at least.

Tom Jones - Green, Green Grass Of Home

2009-09-03T22:39:00.000-07:00

(Parrot, 1966)

On most of his hits, you hear Tom Jones singing and you KNOW it’s that hairy strutter Tom Jones making with the sweet lady-swoon vocalizing – whatever you think of the guy, at least give him credit for uttering distinctive throat-sounds on a regular basis. But this one? This INTERNATIONAL CHART-TOPPER OF (SOME) RENOWN? Well… not so much. “Green, Green Grass of Home” ain’t the Jones I semi-know! Rather, it’s maudlin plastic soul that’s halfway between Dusty Springfield and early Bee Gees, and Tommy’s restrained to the point of facelessness; he needs to be belting songs out, not crooning them. Fat, theatrical Elvis woulda handled this ditty far better and far more convincingly. Aural dirt to be brushed off of one’s shoulder. Next is “If I Had You,” a song coincidentally ($$$$!!) written by Jones’s very own manager, and it happily sounds more like the dude we all know and laugh at, rockin’ and swingin’ as it does like the early Stones if they came up in the Vegas casinos. Which might sound like a jibe or a jab, but casinos can be fun, and the sassy parrot tipping his cap on the swirly yellow-orange label of this single (a la Capitol!) is most DEFINITELY fun. So? Buttons. You sew buttons.

Jon/Dave - Land Beyond The Sun

2009-08-31T23:44:00.000-07:00

(Earworm, 1998)

I know you. So I know you’re all like, “HEY WHERE HAVE THE REVIEWS BEEN THESE PAST FEW WEEKS?” And I’m all like, “HEY I LOVE THIS SQUASH SOUP CUZ WHAT I DID WAS PUT SOME GOAT CHEESE AND SOME BLACK PEPPER INTO IT AND STIR IT UP REAL GOOD.” And you’re all like, “HEY THAT DOESN’T ANSWER MY QUESTION.” And I’m all like winking and sidling towards the door because I can’t be held accountable for my whereabouts and actions/non-actions on these Hot August Nights. And HEY now some cats are fighting outside my window! That happens from time to time. As does the release of a single by Jon & Dave, except here “from time to time” means ONCE EVER, this being a never-again vault-trickle from Flying Saucer Attack poobah Dave Pearce as he deigns to give us an audio-glimpse into his pre-FSA days. Which is mighty kind of him, going to that trouble and all, and so I reckon it makes me a churl for sitting here in my undies and coldly looking a DaveHorse in the mouth. It’s just, see, given that both songs were eventually re-recorded and released through the ’90s in forms not terribly different from what’s on this single (OK, OK, with vocals, heft, and noisy coda added to “Instrumental For Silence”), I’m kinda scratching my head over why Pearce decided to pluck such non-revelatory songs from his big box o’ tapes. Makes him look good, sure, what with the basic FSA thingy having apparently been figgered out by the late ’80s (assuming these tracks are representative), but aside from it all being wobblier and reedier than the full-bodied fuzzathons of the “official” versions, I’m not sure that we gain much at all from hearing this demo-esque pre-historical document. Thing’s kinda, well, POINTLESS. Which isn’t to say it won’t look good next to your other Flying Saucer Attack singles, cuz it will – the b&w artwork and lime-green vinyl are all up to the Earworm collector-dink standards, and you’ll certainly sleep well knowing that the whatsit was and is limited to 500 copies. And sleeping well’s important. SHADDUP YOU CATS.

Billy Joel - It's Still Rock And Roll To Me

2009-08-24T20:28:00.000-07:00

(Columbia, 1980)

This is hardly a bold opinion to toss out there, but Billy Joel’s a hack. He threw stylistic poo at the wall for a while with the Hassles and Attila, then finally hit with his solo balladeer persona, so he went and rode that for as long as he could. Nothing necessarily wrong there, fellow strivers, just saying we might as well be frank about the fact that most of his career consisted of sub-Wings rips or, to be more generous, sub-versions of McCartney’s neverending string of Big Piano Songs (“Lady Madonna,” “Hey Jude,” “Let it Be,” “Maybe I’m Amazed,” etc.). Again: In spite of the obvious hackery, nothing particularly awful about that, I reckon. So it’s with some appreciable amount of non-backhandedness that I praise “It’s Still Rock and Roll to Me” for breaking out of that mold by instead ripping off Elvis Costello for a snappy, relatively hard-edged, nasty-voiced popper that digs its heels in against new-wave fashion while, uh, sounding really new-wavey. And whatever the obvious self-contradictions present, it’s a fun song! Bitter, but FUN! Outta touch, but FUN! FUN, I say! Fuh-fuh-FUN! And FUN is what we need in these weird times, yeh? YEH!

Then there’s “Through the Long Night” on the B-side, where BillyBoy reverts to form, the track sounding as it does shockingly like something off of London Town, both musically and vocally. And yet I actually have to give the guy credit for again approximating tasteful, hyper-melodic McCartneyisms better than anyone else in the worldiverse…it is a REAL SKILL to be able to ape that rather special form so successfully. Begrudgingly I do applaud you, William Joel!

Also, I might as well mention that, for reasons we don’t need to get into, Billy Joel used to call my apartment on an irregular basis when I was a senior in college (wasn’t looking to talk to me, sadly). Think I’m japing? Nope. Strange but true, as they say.

Job's Daughters - The Prophecy Of Daniel And John The Divine

2009-08-22T15:42:00.000-07:00

(Nuf Sed, 1991)

Look, I’m on the record as adoring “The Prophecy of Daniel and John the Divine” as sung by the Cowsills; it’s fantastic, weird, and catchy. Still, blasphemous though it may be to say, Job’s Daughters (built this time around a core of Mark Davies, Brandan Kearney, and Neil Foot) actually IMPROVE here upon the whacked-out glory of the Cowsills’ version, remaining faithful to the creepy apocalyptic candy-psych pop groove of the original while adding a stronger vocal performance and a meatier instrumental backing. Yes, it loses the sick novelty of having a group of kids singing “six-six-six” over and over, but it has a non-haw-haw power perhaps lacking in the earlier recording, sending it rocketing outta any sort of Dr. Demento gag-bin and straight into the upper stratosphere of Total Greatness. So let me come out and say it: That awe-inspiring greatness is, to be honest, pretty much why I’ve waited a week to write about this one. It’s been hard to get myself to sit down and do a review simply because I feel I owe the disc maximum enthusiasm, ACTUAL EFFORT, not just the standard slap-dash rush-job at 2am before I hit the sack. BECAUSE – ready for this? – THIS IS THE BEST 7” I OWN, HANDS DOWN. Really! I ain’t kidding. I love this thing. LOVE IT. There is no other single in my collection that I can listen to as often and as happily as this one, no other single that I’m more excited about playing for friends than this one, no other single that I TREASURE more than this one. This is IT. Whatever you need to do to find a copy, please DO IT. Trust me. KILL if you must.

(But buy or steal, preferably.)

Job's Daughters - Cannibal

2009-08-15T15:22:00.000-07:00

(Nuf Sed, 1993)

I’ll admit it. I’LL FINALLY ADMIT IT. Job’s Daughters are, for my money, the greatest of the Nuf Sed bands. Yup! Like the more conceptually-focused Heavenly Ten Stems (almost all of whom appear on this record in some capacity), there’s an incredible devotion to musical/instrumental whiz-kiddery, versatility, and no-genre-left-unexamined obscurity-mining. The A-side is an Ennio Morricone cover – from the soundtrack to the rare-butt film I Cannibali – and its lyrics, which proudly extol the total freedom enjoyed by the song’s cannibalistic hero, are delivered with the necessary hamminess by a fella named Livingstone Semakula (who actually has a vocal delivery similar to that of label-buddy Gregg Turkington). It’s tough to express just how bizarre and hilarious those sing-words are, but please understand that lines such as these are bellowed over the sort of big-band, heavenly-choir pop production that one might hear on a Richard Harris or late-’60s Sinatra record: “I won’t die! / I WON’T DIE!! / Kill me if you can / I will happily fly away / I’ll just fly away / On my sky-blue horse / I’ll just fly away / Happy that my mind is freeeeeeeee.” Insane? Yes! Terrific? Yes again! Hear it and love it! You will! That’s what you’ll do!

According to bandman Brandan Kearney’s Eabla site, the Asian song on the B-side is called “Quiet Night Rain,” but I can’t turn up any further info about its origins. Whatever the thing’s obscuro provenance, it’s a dramatic pop ballad that’s both entertaining and well-played (not to mention well-sung, thanks to the multilingual Mark Davies of Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 superstardom), and it points the way to the similar work undertaken by the Heavenly Ten Stems in ’94. A fine and ambitious cover, yet it pales considerably next to the majesty of “Cannibal,” as, to be fair, do most songs that we have heard and will hear in these lifetimes of ours. So that ain’t no knock. BUT! HOLD THE PHONE AND HOLD THAT THOUGHT BECAUSE ON THEIR PREVIOUS SINGLE JOB’S DAUGHTERS MIRACULOUSLY TOPPED THEIR FUTURE 1993-SELVES BY RELEASING THE GREATEST PIECE O’ MUSIC EVER TO KISS A MAMMAL’S EARS, YES, A RECORDING SPECTACULAR ENOUGH TO RENDER “CANNIBAL” FORGOTTEN. Can this BE? Am I a LIAR? Stay tuned, cliffhangerfans!

Jesus & Mary Chain - Trip You Up

2009-08-12T21:12:00.000-07:00

(Bad Trip, 19??)

Oh goody! A lousy bootleg of three songs from an October 5, 1988, Jesus & Mary Chain concert in Los Angeles! What’s on it? Glad you asked! One song from Psychocandy (“You Trip Me Up,” mislabeled here as “Trip You Up”), one from Darklands (“Fall,” mislabeled here as “?”), and one from Automatic (“Coast to Coast,” somehow not mislabeled here). I’m impressed that the band managed to replicate its echo-y drum sound in concert, and “Coast to Coast” rocks rawer/harder than the sleek album version (I’d love to hear a full concert’s worth of songs from that record with live, human-played drums), but for the most part these are just sloppier, uglier, boring-er run-throughs of the LP takes, little more. Yes, proudly boasting a flat performance, crappy audio, and moronic packaging, it’s safe to say that “Trip You Up,” from the famed and reputable Bad Trip Records of Denmark, will top many a critic’s list for Single Of The Year. So let us tip our caps, for you’ve done it again, Bad Trip Records! Of Denmark!

Jesus & Mary Chain - Birthday

2009-08-11T20:56:00.000-07:00

(Sub Pop, 1998)

As part of the Sub Pop Singles Club, “Birthday” is a “limited” blue-vinyl pressing of 2,000 (snort) made near-pointless by featuring as its A-side a track pulled straight from Munki, the Jesus & Mary Chain’s terminally-dull swan song. The band sleepwalks through the track (and, heck, most of that LP), faking all the old “rock” moves that are pure rote by this point, and the result is essentially a dispiriting zombie-take on the Darklands era. The intimate “Hide Myself” at least has some soul to it, sounding as it does a bit like an outtake from the more homey, rootsy Stoned and Dethroned record; not bad. Still, the song was also made available on the UK “Cracking Up” single at the time, so there’s absolutely no reason to ever have bought this collector-freak 7”, unless the tasteless artwork (naked lady plus “happy toilet” caption) has a spot reserved on your dorm-room Wall O’ Sexism. This record is lifeless and sad in almost every way, and is clearly the end of the road for the JAMC. Trash, this! TRASH!

Jesus & Mary Chain - Far Gone And Out

2009-08-10T22:37:00.000-07:00

(Blanco Y Negro, 1992)

I confess: This is the song that made me want to go forth and buy the entirety of the massive Jesus & Mary Chain discography. I’d previously enjoyed scattered tracks here and there, and definitely had a special shelf in my skull on which Darklands gathered dust, but it wasn’t until I sat down with “Far Gone and Out” and its parent LP that I realized how much I was into this band. Which makes sense, I suppose, given that most of the Honey’s Dead album is a refinement of the grinding dance of “Sidewalking” – itself my favorite JAMC track – married to the group’s prettiest melodies and strongest production (and vocals!) yet. The songs from this era are sleek but beefy, baggy but ballsy, dated but nasty – and always with a toe-tappy emphasis on heavy percussion. Meaning: PERFECT. And “Far Gone and Out” is the peppiest track on the alb, a natural choice for a single as it takes early Mary Chain noisiness and tames it within the confines of a classic pop hit as filtered through post-rave chart-awarene$$. Huh…?? Wha?? Whatever, it works! IN SPADES. On the other side of the single – and it’s worth noting that this is about the time when the band stopped requiring you to buy everything they shat out by no longer spreading the B-sides across zillions of overlapping formats – “Why’d You Care” clearly wouldn’t have fit on the album, its rich, chiming, tambourine-n-acoustic-driven sensitivity sharing little with the hips-n-Ecstasy sleeplessness of Honey’s Dead. Still, it’s an extremely fine B-side (mix-disc worthy, even) that oughta be heard widely, preferably via that crazy Power of Negative Thinking box, where it’s surrounded by scads of similarly-OK JAMC castoffs that keep the quality level upper-noggin-high. Basically: Buy EVERYTHING the band did in the early ’90s. Zero kidding. Not enough admit it, but this was the true high point for these goofs – spend accordingly.

Jesus & Mary Chain - RIOT!

2009-08-08T14:19:00.000-07:00

(Fierce, 1990)

Ah, Fierce Records. Zany as that label was, this one-sided 7” is the most majestic feather in its quite snazzy cap: a bootleg recording of a riot at an early (March 15, 1985) Jesus & Mary Chain show. Music? None! Lotsa angry smashing and crashing, though, and an interview with some Scottish simp who gives a rundown of the tuff-guy action happening in the background. Plus, hilariously, the disc opens with a tape of Alan McGee’s answering machine. HA! And? HA! Anyway, not having Been There, I’ve never understood the reaction the JAMC apparently provoked back in those babyfaced days; their music was driving and noisy, yeh, but it hardly seems to be conducive to rioting or to any sorta above-average concert violence. So was this “riot” situation mostly media-driven? Or were the band’s fans just a bunch of assholes? Or were people genuinely shocked and offended by the sounds being squawked out by these dudes? Perhaps the UK crowds didn’t appreciate the indoors wearing of sunglasses? Reveal unto me the truth, you crown-ruled gray-hairs of the world.

By the way, I suppose should mention now that, adding to my confusion concerning crowd nuttiness, I saw these guys on their reunion tour a few years back, and it was pretty much a limp skippity-doo through the 21 Singles comp that was heavily lacking in both volume and energy. But: congrats on the paychecks, Reid bros.

Jesus & Mary Chain - Darklands

2009-08-06T21:52:00.000-07:00

(Blanco Y Negro, 1987)

The Darklands LP did mark something of a shift away from chaotic amp-skree and towards mainstream professionalism, but, as the title track demonstrates, that’s not necessarily a bad move for a pop-savvy band like JAMC to make. Stripping away the over-use of noise-for-noise’s-sake lets the ear focus on the group’s consistently excellent melodies and, here especially, the breathy vocals and chiming guitars that make this period’s surprisingly mature songs, at their best, stone-cold late-night bummer-classics – indeed, as a front-to-back listen, Darklands is actually a better album experience than the ballyhooed debut. The B-sides to this single, however, are nothing special. “Rider” is basically a sub-Psychocandy rocker with drum-machine backing, and “On the Wall (Portastudio Demo),” while pleasingly morose and featuring a quite different rhythm track from the LP version, isn’t substantial enough to merit any real excitement.

Jesus & Mary Chain - April Skies

2009-08-04T22:29:00.000-07:00

(Blanco Y Negro, 1987)

As album number two rolled ’round, JAMC fankiddies had to say bye-bye to thump-man Mr. Gillespie and hello to Mr. Drum Machine, what with Bobby G having various heroin, ecstasy, and trendhopping commitments to take care of with Primal Scream. It was also time to wave so long to the sheets of feedback that had characterized previous releases, as the band took on a more streamlined, goth-pop sound for Darklands. Toodles! Aside from the rather-OK radio alt of the moody A-side, the “April Skies” 2x7” thankfully retains some of the noise-raunch of the Psychocandy days, most notably on the nasty, highly entertaining “Kill Surf City,” which (along with the group’s “Surfin’ USA” cover) is as fine a collision of the JAMC’s surf-rock and amp-freak love-affairs as you’re gonna find. “Bo Diddley is Jesus” attempts to stalk similar hero-nod turf by again marrying old sounds with new, and falls flat in the process thanks to a boring, sloppy performance that lacks entirely the good-natured piss ’n’ vinegar of “Kill Surf City.” Similarly, the live cover of Can’s “Mushroom” (presumably with Gillespie on drums) has nothing on the robotic tension of the original, making it another half-interesting failure, but I do at least have an EXCLUSIVE TALE to relate about this particular song: In 2000, I interviewed Michael Ivins, and, being a young lad who knew no better, “boldly” asked him what the deal was with the Flaming Lips ripping off Can wholesale with “Take Me Ta Mars.” As a chuckling Ivins told it, the Lips weren’t even aware of Can’s recording of “Mushroom” at the time, and actually thought that they were stealing from the Jesus and Mary Chain, who had recently included the song from this 7” on the Barbed Wire Kisses CD. Yeepers! I’ve never read/heard that story anywhere else, before or since… you think Ivins was giving me truth or mere chain-yank?

Jesus & Mary Chain - Some Candy Talking

2009-08-03T22:31:00.001-07:00

(Blanco Y Negro, 1986)

For the follow-up to Psychocandy, the Jesus & Mary Chain unleashed this “Just Like Honey”-style narco-ballad via the band’s typical truckload of configurations. The edition I own is the double 7” (as opposed to the 7”, 12”, or poster 12”), with the first disc a relentless, grinding downer that feels like a queasy post-LP hangover, and the second a four-song acoustic EP that shows off a gentler, cuddlier side of the group. Finesse was hardly the JAMC’s strong suit in the early days, so “Honey” is terribly clumsy in a hamfisted, chunka-chunka kind of way, but there’s a yearning, VU-LP3 earnestness that sells it, and the surprisingly lovely acoustic disc shows that the band WAS in fact able to drop the scowls and the hair product long enough to produce believably effective slowies. Shame, then, that half of the hush-slab (acoustic run-throughs of “Psychocandy” and “Some Candy Talking”) never made it to compact disc, even when the JAMC assembled its pseudo-comprehensive Negative Thinking rarities box.

Bad enough, that, but want worse? Here: that casual criticism of said box gives me the opportunity to put on my geek galoshes and wade deeper into the failings of the set. Ready? Now, say that you, like most People of Today, want to make sure you own every song the Jesus & Mary Chain ever released. Well. First you’ve gotta buy all six studio albums, then the three rarities compilations (Barbed Wire Kisses, Sound of Speed, and Hate Rock ’n’ Roll), then the two live records (The Complete BBC Sessions and Live in Concert), then the aforementioned Power of Negative Thinking package. That covers almost everything, but there are still a few stray tracks out there on singles and EPs (ahem, “Some Candy Talking” 2x7”) that have yet to be collected elsewhere. So, as a heroic public service, I’ve compiled a likely-flawed list of those stragglers:

* “Upside Down (demo)” (“Upside Down” 12” test pressing)
* “Psychocandy (acoustic)” (“Some Candy Talking” 2x7”)
* “Some Candy Talking (acoustic)” (“Some Candy Talking" 2x7”)
* “April Skies (extended version)” (“April Skies” 12”)
* “Happy When it Rains (extended version)” (“Happy When it Rains” 12”/10”)
* “Taste of Cindy (live in Detroit)” (“Sidewalking” 12”/CDEP)
* “April Skies (live in Detroit)” (“Sidewalking” 12”)
* “Sidewalking (Chilled to the Bone)” (“Sidewalking” CDEP)
* “Reverence (Jim and William Reid Mix)” (“Reverence” CDEP/12” promo)
* “Reverence (Al Jourgensen Mix)” (“Reverence” CDEP/12” promo)
* “Reverence (Mark Stent Mix)” (“Reverence” CDEP/12” promo)
* “Reverence (Mark Stent Extended Mix)” (“Reverence” 12” promo)
* “Far Gone and Out (Arc Weld Mix)” (“Far Gone and Out” CDEP/12” promo)
* “Far Gone and Out (Dance Mix)” (“Far Gone and Out” 12” promo)
* “Far Gone and Out (Instrumental Dance Mix)” (“Far Gone and Out” 12” promo)
* “Far Gone and Out (Just for Fun Mix)” (“Far Gone and Out” 12” promo)
* “Teenage Lust (Pimpin’ Ain’t Eazy Mix)” (“Rollercoaster U.S.” CD promo)
* “A New Kind of Kick (live)” (“Come On” CDEP #2)
* “I Hate Rock ’n’ Roll (Fascist Record Company Edit)” (“I Hate Rock ’n’ Roll” CDEP promo)
* “I Hate Rock ’n’ Roll (edit)” (“I Hate Rock ’n’ Roll” CDEP promo)
* “I Hate Rock ’n’ Roll (clean album version)” (“I Hate Rock ’n’ Roll” CDEP promo)
* “Cracking Up (live)” (“’98 Tour EP”)
* “Moe Tucker (live)” (“’98 Tour EP”)
* “I Love Rock ’n’ Roll (live)” (“’98 Tour EP”)

Nothing earth-shattering here, given that these are all alternate mixes and live recordings, but can you really make it through your day – CAN YOU FACE YOUR SPOUSE AND KIDS – knowing that you don’t own, for example, the “Just for Fun” remix of “Far Gone and Out”? And that’s precisely why I – though a childless bachelor – spent many sweaty years hunting these releases down, until at last, one by one, I clutched each elusive disc to my bosom.

Thus: things are much better now. I am so calm.

Jesus & Mary Chain - Never Understand

2009-08-02T17:18:00.000-07:00

(Blanco Y Negro, 1985)

Prominent beneath the façade of druggy torpor, there’s more than a bit of surfy twang in “Never Understand,” both in the string-pluckin’ and the uh-huh-huh refrain (ahem: whole thing’s basically the source point for popular new-shot youths Crystal Stilts). It doesn’t depart too far from the formula laid out on “Upside Down,” though the feedback/echo is dialed back a little here and that extreme pop-catchiness isn’t quite present, making it a baby-half-step in the wrong direction and yet nothing worthy of significant boo-hooing. The song crops on Psychocandy as well, and it should be noted that the 7” sounds FAR superior to the muffled, sonically-dead CD release of said album, so please give consideration to going vinyl on this tune if you care about receiving full aural impact. Really! On the unfortunate flip, the appropriately-titled “Suck” (ZING!!) is a brief, paint-by-JAMC-numbers throwaway that sounds like an uninspired – and possibly drunken – studio jam. Hardly worth your ear or your curren—HOLY BEJEEZUS! STOP EVERYTHING! I just got a text from a chum who is RIGHT NOW sitting on a Baltimore-bound bus next to the mother of the guy who composed a forthcoming LIVE Garfield stadium spectacular! And I thought Garfield: A Tail of Two Kitties was to be the final word in Garf-stravaganzas! Apparently not!! Rejoice, ye!

Jesus & Mary Chain - Upside Down

2009-08-01T14:51:00.000-07:00

(Creation, 1984)

While I’m probably in the minority on this one, I’ll go to the wormy grave swearing that the first Jesus & Mary Chain single is also the best they ever released. Both sides are deliriously noisy boppery free of much of the haircut-n-mope posturing that hung over later JAMC discs with increasingly self-parodic silliness. And yes, those endless Velvets comparisons are valid insofar as the shade-wearing and the fact that the drums here are pure cymbal-free Tucker-style cavestomp, but the Jesus & Mary Chain were always far more “pop” than the VU were – they just do a good job of obscuring it with sheets of feedback and a generally rotten attitude. “Upside Down,” for example, is all sullen moaning and mountains of echo and white noise wrapped around some uptempo Buddy Holly r’n’r. Simple, concise, GLORIOUS! Just a follicle behind in the quality race is “Vegetable Man,” a near-perfect cover of the blown-mind, ultra-fucked, loony-psych Pink Floyd outtake, one that destroys the Soft Boys recording from a few years earlier, and one that is in fact excellent enough to stand atop the winner’s podium as THE version of the song (unless the Floyd guys are hiding some incredible unbooted take in the vaults). Nothing revolutionary on either side, just a savvy rethink of ’50s and ’60s rock as informed by the sundry weirdnesses of the intervening decades. The Power of Negative Thinking box finally made both of these songs available on CD (“Upside Down” was previously reissued as part of Barbed Wire Kisses), but as a self-contained release, it’s tough – NO! IMPOSSIBLE! – to beat the original 7” for sheer, giddy wunnerfulness.

One thing I still haven’t figured out, though: Which is the actual FIRST edition of the single? I’ve seen folks claim that status for each cover variation – red, black, blue (which is what I own), and yellow – but nobody seems to be speaking from any real position of authority. Clue me in if you can!

Jessamine - Your Head Is So Small It's Like A Little Light

2009-07-29T18:15:00.000-07:00

(Sub Pop, 1994)

Exciting stuff here for people who enjoy the spacier corners of the 1990s post-rock ghetto. It’s easy to hear the influence of bands like Spectrum (with whom the group collaborated), Silver Apples, and various shoegazers in these records – and, in turn, Jessamine’s hypnotic, semi-Kraut groove is unmistakable in the work of later acts such as the American Analog Set, all of which hopefully paints a decent picture of what these guys were about. And those cumbersome song titles? Pure Azusa Plane! Like “Your Head is so Small It’s Like a Little Light,” whose mix of rhythmic repetition, sleepiness, and synths approximates Sonic Boom working with Damon & Naomi. Or “Soon the World of Fashion Will Take an Interest in These Proceedings,” which reaches back to the late ’60s to go for a Meddle-era Floyd creepiness. Long songs both, but good’uns. Plus: The elaborate packaging for this single requires a flathead to access the vinyl, so all you record nerds – if not handy, tool-owning grown-ups already – better hoof it down to the hardware store if you want to take a listen. Or I guess you could just drop a few dollars on Another Fictionalized History, a singles comp that includes both songs and, niftily, manages to trump the band’s “regular” albums as the all-around strongest example of Jessamine’s oft-overlooked music.

Jale - Emma

2009-07-25T18:09:00.000-07:00

(Derivative, 1993)

Aw heck. On “Emma,” Jale sands away most of the rough edges that made its debut so kinda-likeable, opting for a nimble indie-gal facelessness instead of the garagey chunk of “Aunt Betty.” Has about it the stench of a demo tape for sucker-heavy major labels (wasn’t this right about the time when Atlantic partnered with Matador?) and potential 120 Minutes mini-stardom… not at all my cup of meat in these manly summer nights of 2009. Still, Juliana Hatfield fans might enjoy.

Jale - Aunt Betty

2009-07-22T20:47:00.000-07:00

(Cinnamon Toast, 1992)

The debut from Jale, four Canadian Janes and zero Canadian Johns who were the Canadian pals o’ the Canadian bigwigs in Sloan, and – fancy fancy! – future hotshot Sub Poppers themselves. Sounds like? Sounds like a grungier, gutsier Velocity Girl, though there are definite hints of early-/mid-period Brian Jonestown Massacre in the band’s crunchiest moments (the pounding chorus of “Twisted” and those guitars on B-side “Sweetness” in particular). There’s a heavier touch on the rhythmic end – toms a-plenty – than many of the era’s indiepop groups, which is much appreciated as it help Jale avoid the sickly alterna-sweetness that lurks beneath the surface of ultimately-AOK songs like “I Lied.” So while nothing here quite makes me want to jump up and down and shriek with joy, the thing honestly ain’t half bad overall; go ahead and score it a win.

Jail - Suddenly Bad

2009-07-21T22:44:00.000-07:00

(Decorated, 2008)

Friends! I’ve been away for a while, thanks to ladies, minor league baseball, Paul McCartney concerts, sleepiness, laziness, and potential swine flu. But now HERE I AM, dumb as ever, plopped down before my keyboard, a-typin’ away about this here Jail single that has been flummoxing me for many moons now. It’s a weird, winding record, this one, a disc I bought at Academy on a whim, and I gotta say that I LOVE its late-period Pavement-isms, especially since these fellers bash ’em out with better melodic sense and energy than the ever-graying Malkmus. A lot of midtempo noisiness here, with every super-pleasant song running into the next like some kinda shithead’s Abbey Road, everything crammed together just so… Dudes have it down PAT. Liked this disc enough to order the full-length, which arrived yesterday packaged with an INCREDIBLE little CDEP tossed in for just a few bucks extra. Get it while you can and get it cuz you oughta; indiepsychpop kids of the ’90s will swoon, as will all others, including late-gen Beatlefans. Wonderful wonderful.