Here's a little something from Miracle Legion, a band that hailed from New Haven, Connecticut. Robert Christgau of the Village Voice gave their little Ep a sterling grade, and I went out and picked it up. Mark Mulcahy is indeed an excellent songwriter, well respected among his peers. In 2009 Ciao My Shining Star was released which was a tribute to his songs, and also a fundraiser for Mulcahy, whose wife had recently died. There was a litany of well-known artists contributing, including Thom York, Michael Stipe, Frank Black, Dinosaur, Jr., Frank Turner, Josh Rouse, and The National. Check out the Mezzotint label and you will see available most of Mulcahy's solo works, some Miracle Legion in a variety of formats, and even Polaris, where Mulcahy made music for the wonderful series on Nickelodeon Pete and Pete. But the title song of The Backyard ep is a janglepop song that always evokes for me what childhood was like, probably as spot-on as any songwriter could. That song is available as a track on Volume 14 of Rhino's Just Can't Get Enough: New Wave Hits of the 80's.
I heard about this 2005 self released charity recording by Bristol Shoegazers Secret Shine via the Big Takeover. It is a tribute to the memory of Tim Morris, their drummer, who died tragically in a workplace accident. The band reformed and put together an acoustic record of some of their songs plus some songs by Junkie, which was a band that included Tim and two other bandmembers, Scott and Dean Purnell. I tried to find it on the Internet, which led me to a nifty little site called Tonevendor, which is a place any shoegaze fanatic ought to check out. As far as I can tell, Morris is long out of print, but Tonevendor nonetheless stocks sonically challenging music from all around the world.
So Morris essentially is a shoegaze album, but without the special effects. If you took away the special effects from epic science fiction movies and summer blockbusters, would you be as impressed by the dialogue. It just to show you how strong the songwriting is in Secret Shine. And how strong the vocals of Jamie Gingell and Kathryn Smith are. Of course, even with acoustic instruments shoegazers know how to make beautiful sounds. (Probably like the Professor from Gilligan's Island building short wave radios with coconuts shells). But what a wonderful tribute--I don't know what higher praise you could give someone than create a heartfelt work of art dedicated to their memory. Like the closing song Decay, where the band sings over and over, "What am I supposed to do, what am I supposed to do without you?" For a self released work, I was surprised to find that this was really great. Morris completely exceeded my expectations.
Many of the songs here have a reflective quality, well chosen given the subject. Silver Machine is one of my favorites here: the lyrics start "if we share the pain, will it make it go away?". Tim's Song obviously was made especially for this project, but songs like You Are Inside, Lost All Your Friends, and Ignite The Air evoke the strong emotions the bandmembers clearly feel for their fallen comrade.
And the proceeds went to a charitable cause, Medecins Sans Frontieres, who provide humanitarian medical aid (http://www.msf.org/). So I felt even better about picking this Cd up, if only in a small way. At this point it would probably be difficult to find this anywhere, but the next best thing would be to get some of their label released work, like the compilation After Years, which has a lot of their early output in one handy place. Their Beyond Sea and Sky ep is an equally excellent choice. Since reforming, they have put out two new albums, All of The Stars and The Beginning and The End. So the band has taken a sad event and somehow they have managed to put a positive spin on things, in the way a group like New Order emerged from Joy Division, persevering despite the loss of Ian Curtis. The past can't be changed, but we all keep living.
Just a quick note here. Fisheye is one of my favorite songs by the New Zealand noise trio Bailter Space, who I probably saw half a dozen times in their heyday. They are originals. The Sonic Youth comparisons made do not hold water, as they were making heads explode halfway around the globe before anyone knew about Sonic Youth. Sui Generis. Today they are fairly unheralded--here's an example of why I hold them in such high esteem and why I keep doing what I am doing tonight after midnight on this blog.
Fisheye is on Bailter Space's Thermos album. Grader Spader is also pretty amazing.
But I would try to find their albums, rather than the greatest hits Cd on Flying Nun. It just doesn't seem representative, or maybe the mix is a little off. Anyway, these guys are favorites of mine and I think other people out there just might be in agreement.
Certainly most of you cognoscenti out there know that in the mid-1800's, no city was manufacturing more hats then Danbury, Connecticut. Sure, you've heard about the Susquehanna Hat factory from the famous Abbott & Costello skit, but Susquehanna had nothing on this town. But, wait, there's more. A great band emerged from the rubble of the once thriving millinery industry. These days they may seem unheralded, forgotten by the next generations of musics, but I tell you they existed, that they once roamed freely on the stages of clubs of Western Connecticut. I tell you truly; Monsterland was real.
Doesn't Henry Rollins have a tattoo like this?
Monsterland was a trio formed in the early 90's in a town roughly 45 minutes from my hometown, Danbury, where I would occasionally visit to purchase hockey equipment from the excellent store on Route 7 just past Costco. When I was a toddler I used to go to the giant annual fair there, which is now buried beneath a shopping mall just off of I-95. Danbury also heralded the beginning of my commute to College--Connecticut was the state I had to drive through to get to Worcester Mass, through the aforementioned Hat Town, through ancient Waterbury and past their now defunct religious amusement park Holy Land USA, and finally coming to a screeching halt in traffic in sprawling Hartford. (They have reduced a lot of that problem in more recent years). Even though the state was the source of my commuting frustrations, I can find little fault with the beautiful noise this band briefly made just across state lines.
Monsterland was comprised of Thom Monahan (vocals, bass), Greg Vegas (guitar, vocals) and Todd Cronin (drums), and they were around from 1991-1994. Destroy What You Love was their only full length album, and it is quite good. They remind me of a bunch of old alternative bands from the era, Sonic Youth, Husker Du, My Bloody Valentine, Dinosaur Jr., Mission of Burma drumbeats. But they also have a pop element to their sound, like The Posies, or early period Sloan. You can pick this album and two of their eps (Loser Friendly and At One With Time) up dirt cheap, and they are well worth getting acquainted with. When you hear their best songs you wonder why they were not more successful. But on this blog I find I am saying this a lot about some great bands.
You know, woulda coulda shoulda...been Contendahs.
I first heard about this band because in a review of this album, I learned that they did a cover of Bailter Space's astounding tune Fisheye. When I heard that, I assumed that these guys were kindred spirits, as I was and am a big fan of those Kiwi ear-bludgeoners. If I had a musical time machine, going back to see the band when they were known as The Gordons would be pretty high on my list. And my suspicions were confirmed when I listened to this album. Glorious noise and pop smarts as harmonious as a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup.
Of course, while they do a credible job on Fisheye, its not quite the match of the hard sleek pop of the original. Their originals are where they truly shine, like on the opening song, Insulation. Simply a shoe-gazing juggernaut. Makes my ears tingle happily.
Maybe the best song on the album is the shimmering Lobsterhead, which is in the vein of Amherst's Dinosaur, Jr. Greg Vegas does a great job throughout the album wringing out a inventive variety of guitar sounds. I still feel embarrassed that a band this good was in my area and I never knew about it until it was too late. Another thing I like about this album is that the songs don't overstay their welcome--some shoegaze bands have fairly lengthy songs. At their longest, the songs here are four minutes and change, which is enough time to develop an idea and fade out.
Other favorite here are the pummelling Angel Scraper, The Sloany Twice at The End, and the riff rockin Clashing Teenage Crush. But there isn't much not to love here. The band sounds so great. They are really peers of the better known bands I have compared them to. I don't know about the other guys, but Thom Monahan was a member of the amazing Pernice Brothers for a number of years. I wonder what happened to Greg Vegas, because the guitar is pretty superlative here. Even if things didn't work out here, you would imagine his talent would be shining elsewhere. Anyway, if you've never heard these guys and liked the bands I've mentioned, or the shoegazing scene, I am confident that you will enjoy this album a lot.
If the Blue Brothers were on a mission from God, I think the Didjits received their instructions from somewhere in the Deepest South. Where all great rock originates from, as we hapless connoisseurs of musical obscurity know so well. But then again, maybe only evolution could explain how farmboys from Champaign-Urbana could mutate into this over the top, world class, annihilating monster truck of a band.
Champaign Wishes, Caviar Dreams
It might be because Champaign might be the flattest place in the world--I don't really have the answer. I hadn't listened to one in a while, and I forgot what a great rock n roll album these guys made. Coming out you at the Crossroads between Big Black and Husker Du off their meds (or funny Nirvana), this is a classic rock and roll album that spans the continuum between Little Richard, The Stooges, up to the aforementioned band. They even end the album with a bottom heavy cover of Hendrix's Foxy Lady and MC5's Call Me Animal. An album so aggressive it could tear your head off, tightly performed, irrerverant, appalling, hedonistically hilarious. One of 1990's best. This album definitely is in the rock n roll Hall of Fame of my delusions. 13 songs in 28 minutes. They were the real deal.
The Didjits were a three piece juggernaut from Champaign-Urbana, the home of the University of Illinois. Rick Sims sang and played guitar. Doug Evans was on bass, and Rick's brother Brad was on the drums. Hornet Pinata was their second full length album, released on Touch and Go records. Sims is a pretty amazing, charismatic frontman who somehow manages to tower above the musical maelstrom. Despite the velocity and ferocity, there is a surprising amount of melodicism to the music. And makes me want to drive my car fast. Take one look at the album art and you know where they're at. I remember downtown on the weekends and how all the local kids would just drive around and around that downtown area in their cars all night like some sort of a teenage parade. Maybe that whole car/speed thing is something that comes through in this music. Or more than likely not. But they put out their first records shortly after I came back East. I never got to see them. Damn.
Hornet Pinata starts out with Killboy Powerhead, which actually got some critical attention in its day. And deservedly so. Probably the Offspring cover is better known. But just the start of many special moments on the record. I especially like the riff pummel of Gold Eldorado.
Of course, their hallucinatory Evel Knievel tribute is a beautiful thing--a lot of bands sing about the American Daredevil and Hero but so few deliver the real goods. These guys are the exception to the rule.
Sweet Sweet Satan is one of those songs that draws a line in the sand--I don't think they were thinking about topping the College charts. Overall this disc is quite solid, no disappointing songs here, in my opinion. Other nice tracks are Cutting Carol, Goodbye Mr Policeman, and Joker Express. There are those who would pan the lyrical content of the record, but I find it hard to believe people would take these songs so seriously. This is goofy, gross out humor, and it should be taken in that spirit.
So if you want to listen to some loud over the top hard rocking alternative tunes with a lot of humor and chops, I think you will really appreciate this band if you give them a chance.
Kind of a sad rough ending to the holiday season. I have to admit I stopped paying attention when my NY Rangers were unceremoniously eliminated in the first round. Hopefully they will stick with the youth movement and not start trading for old washed up superstars like they normally do when they start getting good. I think a lot of Americans were surprised about all the rioting that occurred in Vancouver after the disappointing result by the hometown Canucks--I know when I talk about hockey to a typical American, their eyes start to glaze over in about 15 seconds. But as most fans know, if you finish with the best record in the NHL in the regular season, you probably will be eliminated in the first round. Hockey is an unpredictable game--the puck takes funny bounces during a long rough physical playoff series.
But now that it's over, we can relax, regain our composure, and start preparing for next season. And what better way to deal with the long summer off from professional hockey than to listen to some good old American-style Puck rock.
The Fans all go insane....
And the Number 1 Hockey band south of the 49th parallel is of course Connecticut's own Zambonis, a clever bunch of hockey obsessed guys with musical chops and a great sense of humor. While I moan about the Rangers not advancing in this years playoffs, these guys have still not recovered from the loss of their Hartford Whalers (they are now the Carolina Hurricanes). And as far as I'm concerned, when it comes to music and sports, hockey is the best medium by far. Sure, you have your proponents of badminton, curling, and chess punk. You even have the legendary Madras golf punks, The Divots, from North of Beantown. Some people like wrestling and rock (kudos to The Cramps take on "The Crusher") or those rap songs put out by 300 pound pro football players right before the Super Bowl. Give me my hockey rock any day.
The Zambonis are Dave Schneider, Pete Katis, Jon Aley, Tarquin Katis.
A perfect introduction to the group is the 7 song Ep, Play-Off Fever!, which showcases the bands abilities to play in a variety of styles. The first song is the excellent Avalanche!, a hi-energy tribute to the ex-Quebec Nordiques, the upstart team that would soon hold Lord Stanley's Cup! They quickly segue into the Band-like country of Great Zamboni of Devotion. A love song!--could anything be more romantic than comparing your girl to a Zamboni? Or the mustard on your knish? Then its off to the world of the moshpit, with the hardcore tune Lost My Teeth.
But the boys save the best for the latter part of the disc, first of all with their plea for hockey safety, C.C.M. P.S.A. (The Helmet Song).
Hey, Craig McTavish You've got a lot of hair on your head, But if you lose your balance, You just might end up dead.
But if you wear a helmet You'll be fine And if you wear a helmet It'll be alright.
As you can see, this band has filled a basic gap. As is often brought up in the academic world, hockey is one of the few topics William Shakespeare didn't live long enough to adequately cover. After the novelty instrumental/ dance number, Here Comes The Zamboni!, they really come up big with Hockey Holidays, which ought to be played in heavy rotation throughout Canada in December. A lesson maybe some of those crazed Canucks fans could take to heart.
All I want for Christmas Are some brand new shoulder pads To protect me from the enemy when he cross checks me really badly....
So lets remember its December before we drop the gloves Even goons like yourself Deep down... need to be loved. So lower your high stick, and remember jolly old St Nick
Hey you big idiot!! Happy Holidays Hockey Holidays...
And like any self respecting hockey tribute group, they end with the mighty Hockey Song by Canadian troubadour, Stompin' Tom Connors. They begin the song with a country twang, but with each chorus, the music gets faster, louder and more frenetic. Maybe not the equal of The Hanson Brothers Ramones avatar take on the tune, but nonetheless, well played, well played.
If you are a music loving hockey fan, you will fall over when you hear their music. Just don't get too excited and start rioting. Their official website has all kinds of crap on it, t-shirts, discs, even a Zambonis' cowbell. In addition to the Ep, they have put out two worthy full length albums, 100% hockey and other stuff, and More Songs about Hockey... and buildings and food. So check these guys out--get out of the alley and back out onto the ice.
This post goes out to my friend, the King of All Goons, the only man Tony Twist ever called "Sir".
I've been listening to this extraordinary recording for the past few days. I was pretty lucky to pick this up at a fairly reasonable price, as this has been out of print for close to twenty years and I see what people are asking for this Cd. I would have to say that this Phoenix band was fairly unique. They are certainly well known for their incorporation of musical styles from around the globe in their music, but for me its difficult to see where one thing starts and another ends here. One thing is very clear is that these guys are by no means imitative: the music on Torch of the Mystics is informed by Asian music, east Asia, India, Tibet and the Middle East and Spain, but for the most part they are using a basic guitar and drums set-up here, and there are a lot of rock, psychedelic surf guitar and traditional folk elements going on, not to mention some Spaghetti Western. Maybe its something about the desert, but they remind me a bit of the Meat Puppets at times.
The Band:
Richard Bishop: Guitar & Vocals
Alan Bishop: Bass & Vocals
Charles Gocher: Drums & Vocals
Or its just hard to say sometimes. What struck me at times on this recording was how similar elements seemed to exist in the different musical styles here. One type of music ultimately became an echo in another part of the world. I sometimes think that people got around and mingled back in the old days a lot more than a lot of people care to admit. Sometimes the guitar work is clearly inspired by Middle East or Indian Ragas, I hear Richard Thompson's guitar work. Amazingly, the work here seems so improvisational and spontaneously alive that you wonder whether the album was recorded in a few hours live. But I have to believe that these guys make what they do appear easy, when clearly there was a lot of thought and musical research going into the creation of this. Buddhist chants and Tuvan throat singing coexist with bluegrass. It makes no sense, but all the disparate elements for some reason work together as a whole.
I would admit that this album is not for everybody. Not everyone has the patience or a wide ranging enough interest in music to enjoy this album. But I believe that is one of the more amazing musical works. There probably aren't a lot of recordings like this. The musicianship on this is superb, and although there is singing and chanting throughout, I keep telling myself that this is an instrumental album.
When drummer Charles Gocher died in 2007, the remaining band members decided not to continue the group. Richard Bishop has subsequently made a number of solo recordings as Sir Richard Bishop (While My Guitar Violently Bleeds is a favorite), and his brother Alan runs the Sublime Frequencies music label, which releases interesting artists' music from around the globe, including many countries whose music is pretty unknown to Americans. Sun City Girls have made numerous albums, some of which are available on the Abduction Label, but many were produced in small numbers and are rare and out of print. Their last studio album, Funeral Mariachi was released last year, to critical acclaim. Still haven't picked that one up. But Torch of the Mystics comes highly recommended if you can find it for a reasonable amount. Definitely a unique record that ought to be reissued sooner than later.
Just a brief message, in case you hadn't heard: The latest edition Big Takeover is out now. Available for purchase on-line and in your better book/record shops. The magazine comes out only twice a year, but each magazine has enough content to keep you busy for a week! I have seen a lot of worthy magazines bite the dust in my day. But The Big Takeover stands tall after 30 plus years. So for my own selfish reasons, I want this musical institution to keep their streak alive. The Big T is by far my favorite music magazine, and within its pages I have found out about a lot of great new bands, have been reintroduced to some great old bands, and also got to read a lot of intelligent interviews with big stars, and relative unknowns.
Ring My Bell (House)
When I was out of work I remember seeing Arianna Huffington on some TV show, saying, "if you're sitting around on your butt unemployed, why not start a blog?" I was out of work for a while, but the idea of expressing myself in cyberland slowly began percolating. I do think though, that the tipping point was my 2 day excursion to the Bell House in Brooklyn last year to join in on the celebration of the 30th Anniversary of the Big Takeover. Just seeing all the effort being made to put together this show and all the effort it must take to publish a music magazine for these many years had an effect on me. It made me feel a little embarrassed that I was not making any contributions, being an avid music fan for many years. Publisher and CEO Jack Rabid and the many contributors at the magazine managed to put together a pretty amazing show, that included bands from across the US, Europe and even the amazing Don McGlashan from New Zealand!
There were up and comers, like Seattle Visqueen and California Shoe Gazers The Sleepover Disaster. There were great bands that probably have never gotten their just due, like San Francisco's Avengers, Jon Auer of the Posies, Paul Collins, the aforementioned Don McGlashan of the Muttonbirds. Of course there was Mark Burgess of legendary British band The Chameleons, who literally brought down the house with a 2 plus hour set with a rip roaring super tight band behind him. I saw all this and was convinced that it was time I got into the game. So in a way, I guess that Arianna and Jack are my Carson Dalys.
Now it's up to you dear reader, to thank them, or curse their souls.
Edition 68 has Brooklyn band The Pains of Being Pure at Heart on the cover, plus interviews with Teenage Fanclub, Iggy Pop, The Left Banke, Mountain Goats, and Darker My Love. There are also loads of live concert and album reviews inside, including Jack's personal top 40 over the past 6 months. If you like punk, psychedelia, shoegaze, folk, classic rock, power pop, noise there is going to be something here of interest to the music fan. And the price is right, folks. I stumbled onto this magazine by chance while browsing in Borders at lunchtime about ten years ago, and I have been a staunch reader ever since. So do yourself a favor and get yourself initiated into Jack Rabid's musical cult. You'll never go back to mainstream again.
Yowza!!! I was there folks, but toward the back of the room. I was not the guy dancing in front of the stage. For more on those two night, my very first posts attempt to detail the many bands that I saw perform. Mark Burgesses set was a spectacular conclusion to a great musical celebration.
Love Songs is an assuming little gem from the Flying Nun label by the band formerly known as The Jean-Paul Sartre Experience. Unfortunately for them, the rough and tumble world of the existential philosopher can often be a vindictive one, and the Estate of Sartre made them change their name to the boring sounding JPS Experience. If I were them I would have gone with Camus, or perhaps Spinoza and completely cut ties with those ingrates. I'm sure they didn't thank the band for the new found attention to Mr Sartre's works that the band's moniker no doubt drew.
I think I first heard this band on a Flying Nun comp, probably In Love With These Times, the song being Flex. I wanted to hear some more so I managed to grab this little album. It's kind of strange. If you were to look at the album cover without knowing anything about the band, you would never guess what kind of music they played. Turns out, Love Songs is a nice bucolic, mostly mellow sensitive pop album. Some of the songs are bluesy numbers, but my favorites are the quieter tunes. In fact Flex is probably the loudest track here. In some way they remind me a little of the Paisley Underground group Rain Parade.
Personnel:
Dave Yetton:Vocals, Bass
Gary Sullivan: Drums
Dave Mulcahy: Guitar
Jim Laing: Guitar
I would say the album starts out strongly, and then sputters a bit. The first five songs are great tunes. Certainly they are prime examples of the lo-fi jangly pop that Flying Nun was known for in their 80's heyday. But I don't think these guys got the notice that bands like Tall Dwarfs, Bats, Chills, Clean got. But I really like this album, definitely worth some consideration.
Love Songs begins with the dour psychedelic bucolia of Fish in The Sea, some really lovely guitar passages that remind me of Echo and The Bunnymen in their Moody Blues mode. Probably my favorite track on this disc is the mesmerizing Own Two Feet.
There's rain on the roof It's been going on for days It's cosy inside I wish you hadn't gone away....
Equally impressive is the mellow ballad Walking Wild in Your Firetime which notably includes xylophone and brass. Grey Parade is another lovely tune, sort of a woozy dirge in the vein of the Velvet Underground. With cello. One of their best songs. Gone, stone cold, gone. Loving Grapevine is a great and more uptempo jangle tune that probably should have been a hit song. Other worthy tunes are the happy oboe and keyboard fest I Like Rain, and the aforementioned Flex.
I actually saw the JPS Exp. in later form when a slew of Nun bands came over on the Noisyland Tour. I think that must have been at the time of their third album, Bleeding Star. I saw The Bats, Bailter Space (bass amp blew up), and late era Straitjacket Fits also. I can't say I remember that much about the performance of JPS, but I think they were good, albeit a much noisier animal than the band found on Love Songs. At that time, I think that Flying Nun was believing the critical hype and thought that a lot of these bands could break over here in the US. They even temporarily opened up a Flying Nun USA in North Carolina.
I guess it didn't exactly work out. And the sad thing is that there is such a slew of excellent releases from New Zealand from that period. And the nice thing is of course that Jean-Paul Sartre Experience Love Songs happens to be available from Flying Nun Records now, both in Cd and Mp3 formats. Maybe not the first band to get if you are curious about Flying Nun bands, but if you like the Chills, Clean, and the Bats, this would not be a bad album to pick up.
I just reread Steve Diggle's entertaining biography, Harmony in My Head. Maybe not literature at the highest level, but a non-stop no holds barred account of a life in Music. It's like having a casual extended conversation with a Punk Rock icon.
We know Steve Diggle as one of the principals in the Buzzcocks, one of the greatest and most influential bands of the last 30 years. Singles Going Steady is one those records you keep in your underground survival shelter for safekeeping, so that you can enjoy great music in a post-apocalyptic world. For me they are like a soundtrack to that era, because the music has all that cathartic energy, passion and attitude. It is not accidental that people refer to them as the Beatles of Punk Rock. But honestly, when you read the book, you might start thinking that at least in Lifestyle a more apt comparison might be The Rolling Stones, or at least The Faces. They were definitely a hard living bunch, with the exception of Steve Garvey. As far as Diggle goes, I think Sex Pistol's Glen Matlock's loving quip sums things up succinctly.
I've know Steve for over 25 years, and he's a boozin' shagger, and I love him dearly...
I saw The Buzzcocks a few years back at Maxwell's in Hoboken and I have to say, they were still fantastic!Like old pros they smashed out a good 30 tunes in a little over an hour. One classic after the next. It's was just astonishing to hear all the great songs smushed into one great set. And they really rock out quite hard, more like The Who than any art band. Aside from the the 8 year hiatus after their third album, A Different Kind of Tension, they have been one of the most enduring acts in recent memory. Definitely survivors.
As far as the book goes, Diggle rambles about in chronological sequence. He starts out discussing his childhood, growing up in Manchester in poor conditions. He quickly became disillusioned with hard labor, and took the rock route as a way around this. And also for the girls, of course. But from these humble origins, came great musical art. Talent, desire, and ambition merged together, along with a little luck along the way.
It's a Hard Rock life.
He's definitely not afraid to voice his opinions. He speaks quite candidly about the 70's Punk scene and his peers, like The Pistols, The Clash, and The Jam. He also recounts anecdotes from performing with Joy Division and Nirvana. Diggle has a lot to say about his The Buzzcocks and notably Pete Shelley, about clashing egos and growing apart in the midst of increasing popularity. He talks about The Beatles, his first impressions of America, and philosophises about art and life. And he is equally candid about himself, about the drug use and drinking and its consequences. Without getting too CSI introspective about it. But the book is loaded with anecdotes, both exhilarating and tragic, funny and cautionary. It never gets boring.
Diggle's a straight shooter, a regular sort of guy with extraordinary talents. I remember seeing the Minutemen in the documentary We Jam Econo, how when they were teenagers, rock stars seemed like Gods or aliens off of a spaceship. And Punk Rock changed all that, because they knew that they could do this, which really meant getting out their and expressing yourself creatively. And a guy like Steve Diggle, despite his accomplishments seems like one of us. A journeyman who just keeps going, a musician without the pretension you see all too often in the biz. Don't get me wrong, he's not humble about what he's done. He just seems to be grounded and realistic about it all.
Harmony In My Head is an interesting worthwhile read for any music fan. And The Buzzcocks are definitely still a band to see live, if my experience is any indication. Get out and see them while you can!
You know, sometimes when I hear new hits pumping out on the airwaves, I wonder whether there has been some confluence between musical technology and torture. If you have read Naomi Klein's rather scary book The Shock Doctrine, I think you know what I'm getting at. The number of beats per minute, the effects of sound on the human constitution--sometimes it all seems a little bit formulaic. But the sonic force beats me down, vocals sampled and oversampled atop themselves, nuclear beats. It seems a lot of studio trickery more than musical performances. Maybe its just the new American Idol reality.
But you know, technology doesn't have to be used in the pursuit of evil. Sometimes technological advances can be used to create amazing things. I have albums where people paste together disparate music, using different genres, styles and musical instruments from all over the globe. A lot of times its been hit or miss. I don't know precisely what it is about Invisible Clan, the musical collective overseen by Dan Harper, whether it is just great talent or the next generation of studio innovations. I have to believe it is a potent combination of both factors. In any event, I have to say I am pretty bowled over by this ambitious recording, which I heard about in the NY Times, of all places. The album strikes me as visionary.
A very simplistic thumbnail description of Street Clan (their 2nd album after Punt) would be a collaborative synthesis of Ethiopian music, Jamaican music & fiery post punk. And the music is aggressive sounding. But there are even more things going on here than that, including psychedelia, funk, dance, electronic, Sub-Saharan African music and even some Sonny Sharrock styled fusion guitar. It's not easy to play in a variety of styles well. But when you mix these styles together, seamlessly weaving back and forth you are simply on a level of greatness. On top of this you have some great vocalists performing like Jamaican singer Dennis Wint and the unbelievable Zewditu Tadesse. Hearing him sing is simply revelatory. I think if Joe Strummer were alive today, he would be praising this music to the high heavens.
Anyone who loves interesting music will definitely find a lot to love here. For me it does not get any better than the amazing Bone Flaps. For that song alone the album is worth purchase. A remarkable vocal by Tadesse, and its like he's being backed by New Zealand noise monsters Bailter Space. You have to hear this to believe it.
The crazy thing about this album is that I almost find it too long. I can't sit and listen to all 1.3 hrs on this disc at one time. There is too much going on here. But too much interesting music is of course not any sort of valid criticism. Every time I listen, I hear new things, new instrumentations and subtleties. And righteous echoey dub. Songs like Bone Flaps and Mutant Miners are realizations of fusion music that were in my head. Fusion Music in the dynamic way I always wished it could be.
Highest praise here. Check this out and be amazed. And I just checked out the website for Harper Diabete records. They actually manufacture their own high quality microphones in addition to making recordings.
