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(Amarillo, 1994)Since so many of the higher-profile groups affiliated with Amarillo released ugly music (usually with a confrontational comedy element propelling it), it’s easy to miss the fact that there were a lot of incredible musicians in the label’s orbit. The Heavenly Ten Stems, who put out just this single and a track on the Gan’t Boar Like an Eabla… sampler, was an ambitious group dedicated to performing Asian soundtrack music, an effort that might seem like a joke given that the members were weirdo-noise-artsters (Caroliner, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Zip Code Revue, etc.), but the end result is a fun, faithful – loving even – recreation of the source material. You’ve got trombone, violin, banjo, Cantonese (?) lyrics, and incredibly solid playing all around on these non-simple arrangements, which is especially impressive given that both songs are from a live performance. I like the Chinese hoedown feel of “China Town,” with its clip-cloppy percussion and sighing chorus, but I prefer the driving, surf-influenced “Jan Pehechan Ho,” which has the rockin’-est trombone I’ve ever heard, not to mention some dual vocals that are spat forth with nifty aggression. And, again: these songs are being played live. Amazing! Unfortunately, the Heavenly Ten Stems didn’t stick around too long, thanks to some phony-baloney controversy that was seemingly generated by a gaggle of San Franciscans – including Kathleen Hanna – with too much time on their hands. Intrigued? Good! Well, band-member Brandan Kearney tells that bizarre tale in his interview with Mark Prindle, and it’s quite an interesting read. SO GO READ IT.
(Amarillo, 1994)As it turns out, I am alive. Took a week off from reviews in order to “PARTY MY ASS OFF,” but now that April Fool’s Week is over, I’m buckling down again and focusing on these 7”s of mine. And what better way to follow up a week of hilarity than with a humorous laffdisc filled with LOL-style ha-ha? So: funnyman NEIL HAMBURGER!!Present-day fans might be surprised by the tenor of this rare debut single, as early Hamburger records were more about showcasing an earnest, unfunny hack-comedian than the pathetic, beaten-down loser of recent years. Awful puns, inappropriate AIDS jokes, and lame observational humor, all delivered with idiotic chipperness, provide the bulk of the humor, rather than today’s familiar gruff anger, heavy sighs, and hoarse “fuck you”s. The B-side of “Looking for Laughs” is a softball celeb interview with the Golding Institute’s Ryan Kerr, discussing the making of, uh, “Looking for Laughs.” What makes this one a winner – and I apologize for ruining the joke – is that we find out at the very end that the track is simply a paid audio infomercial for the Iowa Council for the Prevention of Incontinence. Nicely done. Refreshingly lousy and lighthearted, it’s the non-musical version (and equal) of the Zip Code Rapists’ intentional swan dive into total failure.
(Japan Overseas, 1996)Shucks, one more Faxed Head 7” to review, and this one’s a knee-slapper, hoo boy! The A side is a tribute of sorts to the Four Freshmen, a drug-addled love letter to the famed vocal group that drops samples of horn-kissed harmony goodness from that band into Faxed Head’s comically sludgy grind. The sense of loss and disappointment is palpable as the vocalist notes that, when he attended the group’s Reno concert in the early ’90s, there was “only one Freshman left / The others had quit and died” – who sez goof-metal can’t be moving? On the other side, “Heavy Metal Cookie Cutter” is the standard metal-plus-electronics schtick, but it has tuff-guy-in-the-kitchen lyrics that stand proud next to anything else the band – or even Zip Code Rapists – released. Overall, this is one of the better Faxed Head records, and, as an Asian import, a swell reminder of their head-scratchin’ popularity in Japan. (Speaking of which, that new “live in Osaka” DVD, which also features coveted footage of rival act The Bon Larvis Band, currently tops my Christmas list.)
(Amarillo, 1993)It’s a more musically “together” Faxed Head this time around, with mucho-macho metal vocals and prominent electronic scree that occasionally sounds like it might be a ghastly approximation of a bagpipe. The lyrics remain right-on in their violent stoopidity (“Pantera takes the stage / The girls, the coke, the rage / I’m shifting my weight around / I have 20 pounds of shit stored up / But these people and I are one / Rockin’ together / I’m uncomfortable but free!”), but the relatively tighter playing sacrifices some of the yuks, and the total package just isn’t as conceptually delightful as the “Coalinga” single. The turntable-less curious can investigate both records – plus more more more! – on the Uncomfortable But Free compilation, at which point they’ll admit that I’m right on all counts.
(Coalinga, 1993)Amarillo Records’ contribution to (and send-up of) the world of death metal, Faxed Head is a costume band with one of the best backstories in town: A group of depressed teens is left mentally and physically ruined after a botched shotgun-suicide pact, and while rehabilitating they form a band as a therapeutic/inspirational exercise. Decked out in masks to cover their disfigured faces, they play fast, ugly metal and growl about civic pride, drug abuse, and Al Gore. This single, a tribute to the group’s hometown, comes packaged with a hilarious letter from the mayor and a sticker outlining the city’s history – which also announces that the record is brought to you courtesy of the Coalinga Area Chamber of Commerce and Taco Bell, Burger King, BP Service Station, Chevron Food Mart, Coalinga Sporting Goods, Texaco Service Station, Motel 6 of Coalinga, and the Coalinga Inn. “Show Pride in Coalinga” rather innovatively mixes a pep-squad cheer with ridiculous shit-thrash, while the semi-competent, speedy “The Colors of Coalinga” is overlaid with random explosions of brutal electronic noise. The choked, guttural vocals are tough to make out, but there are some lyrical doozies here: “In spring, at Burger King / They put up orange banners / In December they put up red / In their parking lot I shot myself / As I bled into my can of glue / I felt a communion with my hometown.” As with many of the projects coming out of the larger Amarillo camp, Trey Spruance, Brandan Kearney, and Gregg Turkington are all involved.
(Nuf Sed, 1992)The Easy Goings are back for their second and last single, and they’re feelin’ especially cover-y this time around, bringing their beautiful magic to songs by the Beach Boys, Springsteen, and Black Flag. Much more in line with the obnoxious EZ-listening terror of the breakaway Zip Code Rapists than the comparatively tame first single, this record offers fans a smooth torch-passing to that group and its vicious dismantling of “hits” both real and alternate-universe. The demented cheerfulness of musical pep-talk “Life is For the Living” (“Don’t sit around on your ass / Smokin’ grass”) actually keeps quite close to Brian Wilson’s unreleased version, though the addition of John Singer’s noise-guitar and Turkington’s phlegmy bark puncture the unsettling bubble-world naivete of Wilson’s original with their self-consciousness. Still, it’s a typically inspired choice for a cover, and the band even went to the trouble of putting together a video to help this keyboardcheez-driven song on its way to the top of the charts; sure nuff, pairing the music with forehead LP-smashing and glass-cleaner consumption earns the vid the gold medal for Ultimate Easy Goings Thingy. And itself NO SLOUCH is “Born in the USA” (split over both sides of the single), here retaining its signature keyboard line while being otherwise destroyed by Turkington’s increasingly choked gargle/scream, which eventually degenerates into a subhuman bleating of “BORN!” “BORN!” “BORN!” over and over; a nearly perfect cover. Rollins gets it worst, though, as a pressed-at-the-wrong-speed “Scream” turns him into the bawling, pre-adolescent whiner you mighta suspected he was all along. “Boo-hoo” cries the band as the song fades, and “boo-hoo” cries the listener as the record ends. Even more than the previous Easy Goings disc, it’s a hop-to-it gotta-get.
(Bee-Fast, 1989)Released by the Breakfast Without Meat folks, and performed by Gregg Turkington and John Singer of the Zip Code Rapists accompanied by Gary Strasburg and Stephen Hanson, the first Easy Goings single is a natural musical outgrowth of that magazine and its various obsessions: two bizarre/obscure genre-tribute cover songs, artwork that nods to cigarette ads and Solo plastic-cup queen Dora Hall, and a general air of mind-bending in-jokiness that hangs around the sonic weirdness. Much more “musical” than the work of ZCR, the band delivers its lewd charms via a half-hokey, half-creepy sound best heard on “Most of All There’s You,” with its wheezing carnival keyboard and Turkington’s insect-like croon. It’s sentimental sap done in a nightmarishly psychedelic fashion, but still catchy as all heck – a repulsive triumph. “The Straight Life” and “Hoboes Need Lovin’” (an original) take a rootsier, more stripped-down approach, the latter being the disc’s closest stab at an outright joke; it even features a Neil Hamburger-esque apology for poor sound quality at its end. This single is a tough one to find, but it’s a pretty vital precursor/companion to the Amarillo catalog that makes for some fun listenin’.Historical notes for the nerdy: According to an ad in Breakfast Without Meat issue 14, this was a record the band was “trying to sell in order to raise enough money to build a 40 feet high, 20 tons of steel monument to the human thumb.” Or howzabout this description, from an ad in issue 13? “Wildness at its way-out-est, to the pitch of furious frenzy – the height, apex, acme, epitome – the living END!!! That is The Easy Goings. Singing and playing the young sounds of today. Wind up the Gramaphone, turn the horn towards the action and let’s dance, let’s listen…it’s the sound you asked for! This rocking group, with all its many knobs, buttons, and doo-dads, looks and sounds like it might launch a rocket. The sounds of ‘freakout’ heard on this record are sure to please the most discerning palate.” Sounds about right.
(Amarillo, 1993)
Kinda the non-jokers in the Amarillo pack, Dieselhed makes it happen with concise, varied-tempo twang-punk that shitkicks quite amiably, even when nudging up against skronky abrasiveness on “A-1 Steak Sauce.” Is it all a genre parody/tribute along the lines of labelmates Bon Larvis Boogie Woogie Blues Band or The New Session People? Dunno. Whole thing sounds earnest enough (that fiddle and them harmonies are AOK to these ears), and they did stick it out into the 2000s, so I suppose it was indeed a sincere attempt at a hep cowpoke rocker sound. Not that “authenticity” matters if the songs are good – and these are! Or are at least DECENT! – but within the labyrinthine laffworld of Amarillo Records it’s always unclear exactly who the joke is on, so asking questions and taking nuttin at face value seems the healthy thing to do. Cuz not much else is going on tonight anyway, right? I mean, if I’m not thinking about THIS, I’ll be thinking deep thoughts about the Hollies’ transition to funk/disco. And that would get me all worked up. “Wiggle That Wotsit” indeed.
(Amarillo, 1994)
