skip to main |
skip to sidebar
(Bomp/Tangible, 1993)
So I’ve been in New Jersey for the last few days, a mini-trip that was “planned” about 15 minutes before I actually took it, and I’m still feeling sluggishly ill from the sun, booze, pizza, lack of sleep, and bare-mattress accommodations that made the trip semi-worth taking. Which means I should probably be in the perfect frame of mind right now for the echo-y, crawling guitar-psych of Hollowbody, but hmm, golly gee... I’m not into this record. At all. I guess I just can’t ignore that (a) Anton Newcombe had a hand in the release of the disc – it being part of the “Tangible Box” – and (b) his own work around the same time was generally similar and generally STRONGER. “Tangled,” the best song here, is a dead ringer for a lesser track off of Methodrone or Spacegirl and Other Favorites, while the livelier “Shelter Island” is an instrumental that could’ve been churned out by a ballsier Darkside. Whoopee. Yeah, look, again, the BJM was insanely prolific throughout the overlapping period during which it was recording far better versions of songs like these, but if you’re dying – DYING! – to hear some true D-list stuff in that kinda regressive post-Spacemen 3 style, absolutely go forth and over-spend for the Hollowbody 7”. I’m sure you’ll be thrilled for the rest of your days that you did.
(Bomp!, 1993)
The final Darkside record, and not a very interesting one, I’m afraid… if these are the recordings that the British label refused to release, I can dig their call. Quality control’s a seeming nonissue with these chunky rhythms and big-blah P. Bassman moaning, especially on “Retroglide,” where the band members are either disinterested (drums) or noodling without regard for what anyone else is doing (guitars). “Spacewalk” ain’t bad, a throbbing, bass-heavy instro with radio-tower transmission samples overlayed, but its stoned formlessness is ultimately just another sign that the Darkside was drifting along minus direction and probably doping it up far too much. A dispiriting curtain-closer of a 7”; go back a few years and find the “Waiting For the Angels” EP or the first LP to get a better idea of what they were all about.
After this, Bassman put the group out of its misery and took off to fiddle with electronics in Alphastone, while Sterling Roswell eventually whipped up a shockingly great single called “Girl From Orbit” and a less-great album called The Psychedelic Ubik. Last I heard, a Darkside rarities box was being assembled, though label indifference and beaurocratic wranglings mighta killed that project by now. As is fitting with most Spacemen 3-related matters, said box lets us conclude with some bitchy gossip: In a bit of too-harsh but amusing message board sniping a few years ago, Sonic Boom sneered that such a compilation would be – and I’m cleaning up the grammar here – “an exercise in the meaningless…can’t wait.” Cold.
(Bomp/Tangible, 1993)Unlike the early-’90s Britishisms of the band’s first single, the snaky guitars and rhythms of “Convertible” hint at an Eastern influence, something that was to become far more prominent on later records as Newcombe refined his technique and expanded his arsenal of instruments. Here, however, we have mid-’90s Brian Jonestown Massacre in embryonic form, releasing what sounds like a rough run-through for a demo, its fine vocal unfortunately buried. The song is similar in feel to the Acid 45 that was included in the same 6x7” set (“The Tangible Box”), and, as with that single, “Convertible” opens with a silent lockgroove cut into the vinyl. On the other side, “Their Satanic Majesties 2nd Request (Enrique’s Dream)” is a druggy guitar-effects collage with samples of a hellfire preacher laid atop it. Entertaining to hear once, but it’s mostly of interest for lending its title to a BJM album three years down the road.Bomp used to sell “Convertible” both individually and as part of the complete set, and around 2002 or 2003, as stock dwindled, they were hawking copies signed by Anton Newcombe.
(Bomp/Tangible, 1992)The debut single from a very young Brian Jonestown Massacre. Like Ride and early Blur, this record sees the BJM working at the intersection of shoegaze and pop, particularly on “She Made Me” (which is also titled “She Moves Me” on the label): the shimmering waves of guitar are present, but there’s a standard verse-chorus-verse structure and a definite emphasis on the beat, as the borderline-baggy drums are right up front in the mix – the slower, less percussive recording heard on the Methodrone album is comparatively lifeless. “Evergreen,” which also shows up on Methodrone in more polished, finished-sounding form, is looser, spaced-out psychedelia that gets lost in its own echo-laden dreaminess and simply doesn’t have the A-side’s kick... stick with the LP version of this one. It’s interesting – and a little surprising – to hear these early Brian Jonestown songs, where the music is driven by atmosphere rather than attitude, and the lyrics and frontman are of little or no importance. Interesting, yes, but not necessarily better, as this style doesn’t seem as well suited to Newcombe’s songwriting strengths or his undeniable talent for loudmouthed rabble-rousing. Still, it’s a pleasant genre exercise, and a successful enough imitation of then-current British styles.
(Bomp/Tangible, 1993)
"Never, Ever" was released as part of the scuzz-psych "Tangible Box," a 6x7" SF sub-scene document that had #1 Brian Jonestown Massacre cheez Anton Newcombe's fingerprints all over it. If not the entire BJM recording under a different name, Acid is at the very least Newcombe singing and (probably) playing guitar. 1993 was early in the game; none of the snottiness or modstomp for which the band is best known shows up here, nor does the My Bloody Valentine-worship of the Methodrone album appear. Trebly and percussion-free, "Never, Ever" -- later re-recorded minus the comma as a BJM single -- is repetitive, lo-fi nod-off music with the type of hypnotic, echo-y guitar loveliness that was all over early Spiritualized. "Thoughts of You" exists along the same lines, though with a bit more energy and aural meat...instead of a Lazer Guided Melodies demo, it's a Taking Drugs To Make Music To Take Drugs To track ("track" ...HA!!). Though clearly the labor of amateurs, there's at least enough close study of the relevant blissed-out forebears in evidence to make the whole thing work. Warning for your needle ("needle" ...HA!!), friend: both sides seem to start with silent lockgrooves. Sneaky sneaky, boys.
(Bomp/Tangible, 1993)
