Record Reviews: December 1995

Annette Lowman
Minor Music 

Yeah, we need some “cool” jazz in the pages of SLUG. We have The Jazz and one of the local papers did an expose on the local jazz scene. That bitch Helen Wolf wasn’t pleased to see Icebum profiled as a jazz band. Maybe she’ll be satisfied with a female vocalist from Denver. Backing her are Peter Madsen (piano), Dwayne Dolphin (bass) and Bruce Cox (drums), with Maceo Parker (alto saxophone), Stanley Turrentine (tenor saxophone), Dick Oatts (soprano saxophone) and Rodney Jones (guitars) sitting in on selected tracks.

Lowman might have been raised in Denver, but as with so many of America’s jazz musicians, her recordings are mostly European. This particular CD is from Germany. The booklet provides a fairly concise history on her. From the sheltered upbringing, where racism was hidden from her by her mother, to repeated rebuffs over the feeling that her singing wasn’t “black” enough and then the stereotypical “lock-outs” because she wasn’t white, it’s the story of the American music business. She moved to Paris in 1983 and made her living singing in clubs there. Next, she moved to Holland because the cost of living was less and French club gigs didn’t really pay the rent. To the best of my knowledge, this recording is the first thing released in the United States. 

Obviously the vast majority of teenagers will not relate to it. An older crowd familiar with Ella Fitzgerald, Sarah Vaughn, Nancy Wilson and Diane Schuur might get into it more. The emphasis throughout is on the voice. The players backing her are among the best In the business, but the album is hers and hers alone. Images of smack and vipers cannot be dismissed. This jazz requires half closed eyes, a tapped foot and clouds of smoke–Jazz that has abandoned America. Icy blue cool jazz that your local “contemporary instrumental” station wouldn’t touch with Yam’s dick. Call KUEX and ask Gene Pack, Steve Williams or John Green to add it into rotation. 

Mississippi’s Big Joe WilIiams
And His Nine-String Guitar
Smithsonian Folkways

I talked to the big boss on the phone the other day and he told me that a guy from the Board Of Education or something similar had written a Dear Dickheads letter. Some hack at a local magazine catering to females with husbands making an excess of $100,000 per year once told me that no one reads SLUG. I’ve commented in the past on the “suits” who sneak SLUG out of various locations hidden under their jackets. This review is for the “suits” and the guy at the Board Of Education. I seem to remember a cover dedicated to the Bill of Rights several months back, yet the music coverage is as slanted in this rag as the opinions in a “Grass Roots” newsletter. 

Big Joe Williams was a country bluesman from the ’30s and ’40s. He re-emerged (as did many) during the blues revival of the late ’50s, early ’60s. The recording is from 1961; it was originally issued in 1962 on, of all things, a record. Let’s git ta steppin’ immediately and explore a song that little children are taught in kindergarten. “She’ll Be Coming ‘Round the Mountain” is as familiar as “Old MacDonald Had A Farm.” Quoting some lyrics with appropriate modern spelling: “She’ll be coming round the mountain when she cums…Yeah, boy, I’ll be glad when she gets here, too/We all going to have a party/AlI going to have a party when she cums…We going to kill that old red rooster when she cum, when she cums.” Sorry to ruin your love of children’s music,

but…they sing that song in kindergarten? I could continue with a few more lyrics, but I think those quoted pretty much tell the tale. Fucking, pussy, cheating, drinking, poverty and the blues are the topics Big Joe Williams discusses with his guitar and his voice. 

Drums, bass, keyboards etc. are missing for the most part. There are some “special” moments when Joe slaps his instrument or stomps his foot to provide the rhythmic essentials. “Somebody’s Been Fooling #3,” a song I don’t understand about a hen talking to a rooster, has some stand-up bass that is pretty astounding. Major pleasure is provided by Big Joe’s talent with an acoustic guitar and his vocalizing on the more emotional and physical aspects of life. –Riley Puckett 

The Folk Implosion
Take A Look Inside
Communion 

It’s a new band, I guess. It was recorded in Boise and mixed in Seattle. I’m wondering why Boise has a cooler music scene than Salt Lake City, even though it is much closer to Seattle and you would expect the trickle down effect to be much stronger. 

Four songs are contained on the EP. The first, “When Not Being Stupid Is Not Enough,” carries on the Martsch trademark “soup of noik” and pop for a hell of a long time. “One Thing” continues the Neil Young infatuation to extreme levels. “One Thing” for sure is pretty damned caustic. God damn! It almost sounds “alternative” like Frente. “Shit Brown Eyes” is Neil Young’s tribute to Hendrix. Join in, boys, make some noise! The most approachable tune of the disc is “She’s Real.” It is pretty in a distorted sort of way, and it’s a love, (or “I want to love you tonight”) song. This Martsch guy is going to be famous if he keeps putting out music of this quality. Who knows…he could be the next Folk Implosion. 

The weirdest thing has happened. Absolutely stunning women are searching for the Folk Implosion CD, except they don’t actually want it. What they desire is the KIDS soundtrack and they don’t know it. The “hit” single isn’t on the album. I think SLUG raved about the soundtrack before the radio and corresponding magazine picked up on it. Backtracking to the 14 songs in 22 minutes original we find Lou Barlow and John Davis pretty much fucking around. That is, after all, what they do with their lives. I’m thinking that the next time one of those “stunning women” asks me for the Folk Implosion CD I’ll sing “Slap Me” to them. “Touch me, touch me, touch me baby, could you, could you, touch me all the time. Slap me on the behind.” Yee-hah! 

The noise and “pop” compositions are just as classic as anything Built To Spill Caustic Resin put on plastic. The biggest difference is the length of the songs. Barlow’s voice is as well known to a few as Martsch’s and he is in fine form. He keeps cranking them out all day and night. Is there a more prolific songwriter in existence? At least his “hit” single will provide him with the money to continue in comfort. Meanwhile, the “trend” has once again passed you by. Any of those lovely ladies who mistakenly purchase the Folk Implosion “album” (if you can find it) have 22 minutes of surprising listening awaiting. The thing was recorded in John’s bedroom, girls! Cut him open and “Take A Look Inside.” –Mochos 

Capsize 7
Mephisto
Caroline 

It has been at least a year or more since last a Caroline “product” crossed my path. Nothing has changed in the intervening time. The label always had a way with guitar bands. Capsize 7 continues the tradition. This time out there are two guitars joining the bass and drums. The lyrics are oblique as expected. A few lines from “Remote Control Man” provide some localized amusement. “Thought I broke mine but he healed. Can’t fuck him up enough that he can’t deal. Seems he’s really built to last. Much better than a Stretch Armstrong.” The toy, not the band? 

Something else of interest about the CD is the scratchy noises at the end of songs. They seem to desire the feel of a record. Not to disparage the vocalist, Joe Taylor in this case, but the attraction of a Caroline release is the guitars. I’m thinking a new category should be invented for indie-label guitar bands. File all the music in its own nice little niche. Have Dodd Electronics sponsor the section as a way of promoting their effects pedals, boxes etc. There are more cool guitar sounds all over this CD than a whole box full of major label Brit-pop, pop punk, or alternative bands feature. A year or two ago the local clubs would book the stuff into town once in a while. They still do to some extent, but the appearances are fewer and farther in-between. I’m not selling off my promo, but some other hack probably will. Watch the used stores or buy it new if some of the more experimental sounds an electric guitar can generate are of interest. Capsize 7 live would no doubt provide some good entertainment for downing a few beers. 

Einstuebzende Neubauten
Five On The Open Ended Richter Scale
Haus Der Luege
thirsty/ear 

Trent Reznor (along with X-96) is the Rodney Dangerfield of SLUG. No one gives him any respect. Call him what you will, but I hold him directly responsible for the reissue of these two Einstuebzende Neubauten albums. Reznor made industrial music popular. There were other names involved, but the major credit lies with our poor tortured genius. According to my reference materials the first album was originally released in 1987. The second is from ’89. Both albums were recorded after the first break-up in ’86. 

Five On The Open Ended Richter Scale, originally titled Fuenf auf der Nach Oben Offenen Ricterskala, contains a cover of “Morning Dew” that is unmatched in recorded history. The album is more mainstream than some of their previous works. I think we’ve been over this in the past, but I’ll repeat it for the digital generation. They recorded sounds from factories (thus the industrial category) onto tape and then manipulated the tapes adding guitars, drums, bass, vocals etc. to create “music.” The year 1987 isn’t that far in the past, but today factories are operated by the whir of robots. The only way to capture some of the notes presented on these two discs would be to visit the owner/operated polygamist factories run by the fall-out of the Vietnam War. When you are supporting five wives and thirty or more children, upgrading to robots isn’t feasible. Low-cost immigrant labor and uneducated whites are the ticket to profit. 

With the exception of “Morning Dew,” a double entendre tune if I’ve ever heard one, the lyrics are all in German. What these fuckers are singing about escapes me on the first album. The second contains English translations. The Utah connection for Five On The Open Ended Richter Scale is the Wasatch fault and the fat nun on TCI Channel 8. 

The second reissue features “hung like a horse” on the cover. It isn’t Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers, it’s an actual drawing of a horse taking a piss. I’m not sure if I can take the second reissue from these boys because that first one drove me to the kitchen cupboard and my shiny .25 semi automatic. I was contemplating putting a bullet in my brain until I remembered what Ian’s suicide turned Joy Division into. 

Remember the yellow earplugs they gave you the last time you visited the Delta Center? Carefully roll them into slim cylinders and place them gently in your ears before listening to the second “record!” Save your hearing for whatever WEA, SONY, CEMA, PGD or BMG releases to mass market acceptance next. Those of you still engaged in the traditional forms of American “work” – manufacturing, labor or construction—can remove your headsets for a few moments. Your hearing is already damaged by this noise. Control your anger please! Don’t open the china closet and break the dishes on the floor in a feeble attempt to duplicate the music, don’t take hammers to your windows or tire irons to your Japanese manufactured television set. If I listened to this all the time I’d wind up on the Fox News At Nine as a Ben Fulton, Helen Wolf or Shauna “Walton” Boy stalker. –Erkil “Lee” Baron 

C & S Street Jazz Presents
Give ‘Em Enough Dope Volume Two 

Mad Professor
Anti-Racist Dub Broadcast

The African Experience
Mazaruni!
Ras Records 

Blatantly attempting to capture the reader’s interest is a dropped name. Portishead appears with a remix of “Sour Ties.” The disc is a compilation of dub/jazz. The ride is heavy on the trance/tripping beats and rhythms of music many still lump in the “techno” category. “Techno” isn’t known for its use of acoustic instruments and Kruder and Dorfmeister include an acoustic bass in their digital mix of heady sounds. Sing-song poetry is inserted into the funky, slow motion groove. Hustlers Of Culture open with synth squeal played over funk guitar and a reggae/funk beat. Vocals are not included. Pressure Drop offers up more of the same funk/dub and jazz. Shorty Long‘s “Here Comes the Judge” is immediately followed by “up against the wall motherfucker.” It’s out of order just as expected from a funk band copying the Fugs. 

T-Power Vs M.K. Ultra followed with a simple horn line, rat-a-tat drums and scant keyboards. They title their piece “Horny Mutant Jazz” quite brilliantly as it builds gradually from the opening minimalism to fuller orchestration and then trails off into post coital mellow. Akasha gives a pure jazz reading interrupted by sound-bites on the chemical changes drugs, food, fasting and prayer bring to the mind. Can they turn me into a heterosexual? Larry Heard is next with more hard jazz only slightly altered in the mixing process. Howie B combines digital heartbeat drums with strings, keyboards, bass etc. As calming, hypnotic, peaceful and trance inducing as the sounds of dolphins or whales. Mekon is all dub with the exception of a few “scratches.” The world needed a dub version of “Sour Ties” to enlighten them on how closely Portishead is actually aligned with Tricky and his former band Massive Attack. 

Soundscape and Freak Power in Dub finish things off fashionably proving that this is indeed a disc worthy of purchase by Americans who think jazz is Kenny G and Portishead is British pop. 

Now that we’ve covered one disc chronicling the re-emergence of dub, how about three from an acknowledged master? Anti-Racist Dub Broadcast is the second of a Black Liberation dub trilogy. The African Connection is the third: I have no idea what the first one was. Mazaruni! appears to be the first in a series of “jungle dub” discs because as this is written several more Mad Professor recordings arrived. Mad Professor lives in England just like the artists featured on Give ‘Em Enough Dope. He has produced hundreds if not thousands of recordings. His style remains rooted in Jamaican reggae even as he absorbs the music created by new dub lovers.

The cover is far more political than the music. Jesse Jackson has a soundbite on providing food, housing etc. not more war machines and that’s about as deep as it gets. Horns, bass, guitar, computer enhancements and keyboards supply about an hour of heady riddims for smokin’ several big fat ones and pondering the state of the nation. 

The African Connection uses more vocals, heavily echoed, than Anti-Racism. There are some lovely keyboards intermingled with martial drums and of course, the echo, showcased in “Channa Four.” I don’t hear many talking drums or ju ju guitars in the mix, but the overall impression is slightly more pleasing than the second disc of the series. The mood is darker, the dub is slightly less production-heavy and the disc more or less slides into the unconscious. Mazurni! is an entirely different matter. It opens with a dance hall and by the second and title track the Mad Professor is fully engaged in an experimental process that in the future could lead him out of obscurity and into the minds, bodies and feet of dance club patrons worldwide. He is joined on the disc by King O’ Di Jungle and Juggler who are credited with producing the jungle mixes. Mad Professor & William The Conqueror do the dub mixes. Chimps, roaring lions and your basic everyday jungle sounds fill the intensely danceable jungle tunes. The dub is spare and more trance-like than on the previous two discs. Call me too fashion conscious and trendy for my own good if you will, I find Mazumi! the equal of Give ‘Em Enough Dope. –Dub Housing 

Greta
This Is Greta
Mercury 

With their second album comes Greta. They are described as a genre busting alternative band in the blurb on the back cover. It’s another advance but this tune it’s on a CD so it actually plays. For a good tune, have a listen to “Cal Cool (You’re So Whatever).” Melody, some edgy guitar, a theme that makes sense and so on and so forth it’s about trying to tell someone that you aren’t interested in a nice way. 

“About You” begins the session. The song is textbook perfect. A memorable chorus, great hooks, a bass break, big guitars, great production and acceptable lyrics. It seems like every band around today has to at least give a nod to the psychedelic era. Greta checks in with “Some People,” a psychedelic ballad drawing strongly from The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper‘s period. 

Actually the psychedelic influence is present all through the CD. I guess “alternative” has come to mean psychedelic rock because as This Is Greta moves along through the songs “Silver Blue,” “Anomaly,” “Charade” and “Warm Disease” the years fall away to reveal Bad Finger, The Cyrkle, The Balloon Farm, The Left Banke and countless others in all their past glory. A lyric sheet would be helpful for delving into the meaning of ‘Warm Disease.” Religious metaphors are mixed with subtle drug references. They appear to have had some experience with heroin. 

Ah, if only we had free form radio or album rock today the DJ could track through the CD sometime after midnight for all the late night trippers and tapers. The disc is good, a bit mellow perhaps, but good never-the-less. 50 far the single, “About You,” isn’t making much noise. Watch for the promotional push after Christmas and see if Mercury can break a psychedelic (that doesn’t mean hippie) band out. –Claude Clark 

Hayride
Elfin Magic
Capricorn

Elfin Magic begins well enough. The title song is “alternative” rock of the hard sort. “Ackadacka” is old school thrash and “Wormbringer” begins as more “alternative” hard rock until…the heavy metal guitar solo breaks in. All of a sudden, I’m thinking Ozzy or something. “A Hard Deer’s Night” is a drinking tune that rocks like Chuck Berry in a thrash band. “Hollywood” is more dizzying tempo changes and swirling guitars. The band is from Athens, GA after all. So far so good, another alternative band and a pretty good one at that. 

“Pleasence” brings on the horns and keyboards. It is a pleasant instrumental. “Sconion” is more thrash, approaching garage status. That heavy metal posturing interrupts. I believe this is the point where Hayride finally reveals their true colors. There was something about that title.

Elfin Magic brings to mind wizards, warriors, fantasy, knights on horses and bad metal. “Brickstretcher” is heavy metal. Pure, stadium metal with all the trademarks you’ve come to know and love. I knew this was coming. Then, as if that tune hadn’t done enough to revive the ’80s they followed it up with “Zero.” Molly Hatchet, 38 Special here we come. Southern rock like the Livestock Festival specialized in. “By the time we got to Livestock we were 40,000 strong. North Temple’s closed man.” 

“Bit, Stung & Sucked” almost revives the CD. Throw in some garage licks with the metal and you can be the Real Kids or the Barracudas. They return to thrash with “Hard Hat.” I’ll tell you what, this Hayride band is a little confused. They try to be all things at once. They got this good thrash thing going on and then the break is taken straight from the mid-80s. “The Map” is another return to metal. “Second Skin” is hard-core. They close the album out with “King Phrague” and Athens pop, except there is that guitar break again. Summing up. Elfin Magic at least captures the interest. It didn’t hit the wall and it didn’t end up at the used shop. I’m guessing they are trying to reinvent something or other with a variety of styles. They could be a good thrash band, an excellent garage band, a bad Southern boogie band or a bad hair metal band. They could even stick with the pop and sell a few records. By the next album, maybe Hayride will sort things out. –Steven Stuffer 

HELP
A Charity Project For The Children Of Bosnia
London Records 

I believe the best thing received from the Polygram group last month was a tribute album. The best thing from them this month is a benefit album. With the exception of the latest Meat Puppets release and the Velvet Underground box set, both profiled in SLUG by some hack or another last month, the label pup appears to need some serious A&R help. 

Opening HELP is Oasis and Friends Inc. Johnny Depp sounds more than ever like the Beatles on a ballad. The Gallagher boys would do well to explore the territory further. I didn’t like the latest from The Boo Radleys much. They too check in with a good song. Maybe it isn’t Polygram’s fault. According to the scant liner notes all the songs by every group were recorded in one day. Force them to record quickly! 

Bypassing the filler and arriving directly at some of the more interesting stuff I find that Orbital, Portishead and Massive Attack are situated right next to each other for tracks 5, 6 and 7. Then I found the Stereo MC’s on track 10. Well, well, well. Take a seat and prepare for the head and body rushes. Beth Gibbons is especially chilling. There’s some band on here called the Charlatans. I believe that they were a San Francisco, hippie band from the ’60s unless the UK group overcame the name theft for charity purposes. Ohhh, psychedelic. Then…oh shit, it’s Sinead O’Connor singing “Ode To Billy Joe.” O’Connor gives a fearsome reading, but Phranc does it better. Suede sounds like Billy Joel/Elton John. I always missed the entire point of B.J Thomas and even though the Manic Street Preachers attempt to assist his career revival by covering “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head” they fail.

There are a few more good tunes from all manner of famous names. The Chemical Brothers are supposed to be present in some place. I’m guessing The One World Orchestra or Planet 4 Folk Quartet. The One World Orchestra combines the theme to the Magnificent 7 with the theme music of Santo the Mexican wrestler. Is that a highlight? 

The CD contains 20 songs. Once again the cause is worthy of dollars. Anyone can find enough satisfying music to rate spending $9.97 or something at one of the stupid warehouses now selling music in town. I don’t encourage shopping at these outlets, but make your own decisions. The proceeds go to benefit War Child which at the present time is concentrating their efforts on the children of former Yugoslavia. They plan to expand into other countries in the future. Someday they might set up shop in the USA to help the forgotten children of this war ravaged country. –Jerry Rubenstein 

Joe Meek
It’s Hard To Believe It: The Amazing World Of
Razor & Tie 

Give me a big fat belly laugh. I’ve been slagging off the late ’50s/early ’60s for years because of the vast wasteland of good music surrounding the era. Fabian, Funicello, Avalon and Fabares made their fortunes during these years. The only good music came from the instrumental garage bands leading the way into the surf and ’60s punk explosion. Here we have a CD of Joe Meek’s productions. (At this point let me give a hint to GRID and their story on Victory Records. Hi Fi & The Roadburners are not a “rockabilly” band. You poseurs didn’t see them did you? They fit quite firmly into the pre-garage, pre-surf, pre-punk era represented by this disc.) 

Joe Meek had to be the king of schlock. God how I wish that I had a 45 of each and every song on this disc. Meek made trash. He was a trash producer. He produced 45 top 50 hits in England between 1960 and 1966. I saw the CD pilloried and slandered in some glossy publication. Whoever wrote the review simply didn’t get it. Even a cursory listen to the CD shows what the guy was up to. He was using the technology available to create money while experimenting with echo, compression, distortion and overdubbing. Catering to an audience? Space age bachelor pad music? Pick it up by any means, but don’t miss Joe Meek. There are instrumentals galore; The Tornados (Telstar) and The Outlaws (Swing Low), there are tributes; Mike Berry & The Outlaws (Tribute To Buddy Holly and My Baby Doll) and Heinz (Just Like Eddy) and there is space age music; The Blue Men (Valley Of The Sams and The Bulb Light) and man, the production techniques! The big hits played on “oldies” radio are “Have I The Right” by the Honeycombs and “Telstar.” They were the only two songs Meek produced that charted in the states. 

He was a tortured homosexual. He heard voices in his head, he held a fixation with life on other planets and the occult. Seances and card readings told him of Buddy Holly‘s death (the prediction was a year early) and the success his records would achieve. He wound up killing his landlady and then blowing his own brains out seven years to the day after Holly died. Listening to Joe Meek’s productions is like climbing up on a big Mue BFI dumpster and taking a self-rewarding dive. –Billy Hairball 

Leftfield
Leftism
Hard Hands 

One of my “darling” little female co-workers had some serious complaints when I “stole” this promo. Luckily I managed to acquire another copy to placate her rage. She calls this music “techno.” She spent her formative years shaking her petite booty to the music in the underage “dance clubs” around town so she probably knows more about what the “DJs” play than I do, except…where does dub, dancehall and reggae fit into the “techno” scheme of things? If “Release The Pressure” doesn’t have that reggae beat and socially conscious, ganja huffing riddim included with the microprocessor, floor-filling effects then I’m going back to my tube of Testors. 

“Afro-left” has the required BPM count, but what in the fuck are the Afro-centric vocals addressing? Not that, I know. Stereotypically the only thing I listen to is garage, surf and hillbilly. “Afro-left” is pure techno, no doubt about it. There is a solo towards the end from a Third World instrument that throws the clinched Edward Abbey monkey wrench into things. As usual, with these Sony products, the press materials are sadly lacking some complete info on the recording is as well. Gleaning info from the CD booklet I find that Joe Gibb engineered the deal. Searching through the departed brain cells of my brain I seem to remember that Joe was a former reggae producer of some fame? 

Leftfield is marketed as a group concept except…for some reason the artists contributing and the musical style changes from track to track. After “Afro-Left” the “techno” is pretty much forgotten in favor of more trance inducing techniques. I’m starting to wonder if the Rolling Stones and Brian Jones weren’t onto something way back in 1971 when they first released The Pipes Of Pan At Joujouka. “What goes around comes around!’ Leftfield reprises (in a sometimes computer generated format) music that the drug addled brains of the 60’s discovered. Bowie, Eno, Harrison, Cooder, Glass, Reich and Laswell all paved the way for the more discriminating parents who have now bred children thinking this music is new and adventurous. It reminds me of old “avant-garde,” “industrial,” “experimental.” Ask John Lydon, he’s the guy they all want to hear and he’s only featured on the closing selection. So, “Mr. Rotten,” did you ever encounter Can, Faust, Reich, or Glass before you went punk? –This Little Piggie Went To Market 

Menswear
Nuisance
London Records 

It’s an advanced cassette without any further information. They are obviously British and while most of the tunes are typically obnoxious there are some saving graces to the tape. The la-la-la-ing/ba-ba-ba-ing that goes on during “125 West 3rd Street”, “Being Brave” and “The One” is nearly offensive enough to totally dismiss the entire project. Actually if the listener can get past the first three songs the music improves. “I’ll Manage Somehow” and “Sleeping In” are grim. “Sleeping In” especially reveals Menswear as another British band attempting to capitalize on others past success. Merseybeat to the core. When the heads reach “Little Miss Pin Point Eyes” Menswear pays tribute to Jazz Butcher and the pop side of Genesis P-Orridge while singing of heroin addiction. Then things improve. “Day Dreamer” continues the influence but they finally come up with an interesting hook and a rockin’ tune. “Hollywood Girl” is more offensive British pop, “Being Brave” is the ballad. Maybe I was wrong about this tape. I’ve found one good song so far. The second is “Around You Again.” After that there’s nothing. I guess if you love Merseybeat, the Jazz Butcher and the whole British pop thing you’ll love Menswear. It does nothing for me except irritate me. The hidden circus song at the end of side two doesn’t change my mind. –Rolind S. Howerd 

P
Advance Cassette
CEMA

I know the record is out. All the local CEMA rep had to give me was the advance cassette.

There are famous movie actors playing instruments all over the thing. Their names are on big screens all over town. All that matters is that Gibby has recorded another Butthole Surfers record. Of course the other Surfers are somewhat missing, but it sounds like a Butthole Surfers record to me. The cover art on my advance looks like a Butthole design. The CD in the stores does too. Kind of reminiscent of Locust Abortion Technician to say the least. The music sounds like Texas. In a town with more musically closed minds than a Mormon Bishop’s asshole (did I write that?) this blending of country and western with the blues and God damned rock ‘n’ roll doesn’t hold much interest. They are too involved with the subgenres to hear the blend. Record of the month? For those who are especially challenged, the CD preceding Pearl Jam, Petty and Presley in the bins is the best of the P’s. –Pppppuuuunnnnkkkkk 

Ride
Live Light
Mutiny Records 

While all the Brit-heads are eagerly awaiting the much anticipated new Ride CD to be released in 1996 an American start-up label has decided to cash in with a live album. “Seagull” opens this up with enough psychedelia to take me all the way back to a Sacred Mushroom, excuse me, Pearl Jam concert at the Delta Center. They evidently draw their inspiration from My Bloody Valentine, Jesus and Mary Chain and The Byrds. I’m waiting as eagerly for the new My Bloody Valentine disc as I am Helter Skelter from Dr. Dre, Easy E, and the remaining living members of NWA. The most merit Jesus and Mary Chain stomps the shit out of Ride and I can hear the fucking Byrds every time some major label drop ships their ’70s cum ’90s hippie shit at the local mall store. 

The jams finally entered my little worship experience even as the incense of the holy bud began to dull my brain powers. I inhaled again from the sacred cardboard toilet paper tube/tinfoil bong and listened to “From Time To Time.” These Ride guys can kick out some noise live. They also tend to bore at times. I’m thinking of the lyrics to “Hey Jude” as sung by a new immigrant halfway through “Chelsea Girl.” “Hey dude, doe be me dow.” The ballads probably go over well in a stadium where everyone has a comfortable plastic chair to rest their ass on. Ride aren’t likely to play a stadium stateside anytime soon so they had best leave the boredom back in England. The center of the disc had me nodding off after a snort of high-grade Mexican brown. It’s a concert, fer Christ’s sakes, give up some excitement.

They don’t. If “End Of The Universe” represents the end of a Ride show I’m already out of the door. I don’t know. Maybe a fist fight from the brothers Gallagher or Skin covered in sweat with erect nipples and her pants falling halfway down her ass represents the best of British rock for me. These Ride “boys” had better pick things up at the end (based on their live disc) or the club will be half full when they complete the set. 

Rust
Bar Chord Ritual
Atlantic 

Previewing what is to come after the New Year is the first major label full-length from Rust. Some might be familiar with the band from their EP, also released by Atlantic. I had them pegged as an arena band gone punk back in the August of ‘94 when I first heard them. Have they progressed in the intervening months? The tape is an advance with the corresponding poor sound quality. The first song “Five More Minutes” describes some poor slacker motherfucker who is too sucky to go to his shitty service sector job. They want everyone to quit their jobs. Oh, really? Hasn’t this theme been explored ever since all the hippies dropped out to make a better society? Look what they made the world into. 

“Perhaps” has lyrics describing the slacker experience. They are bored because they grew up in the years after men were forced to fight in wars. Well, God damn, let’s see if Mr. “draft dodger” Clinton can fix that for you with a war in Bosnia. “I’m just in a band.” Draft the fuckers and send them over I say. At this point the tape almost hit the fucking wall. Not that the music is bad, it has nothing to do with the music at all. What do they use to record these advance cassettes? It sounds like it was recorded on one of those big black early versions of an answering machine. The buzzing in my ears makes it difficult to hear any music. 

Fuck it. Rust had me intrigued with several songs on the first side. The vocalist can grate on the nerves, but they come from San Diego. That town doesn’t have a singer in residence does it? I simply can’t stand the poor quality of the recording. Where is that rubber mallet? I’ll kill this fucking tape. Out to the sidewalk we go and the tape is one dead motherfucker. Take that and that and that. See what you get for the headache you gave me? Now I’m pouring lighter fluid on it. Burn baby burn. Come on Angelica. At least spring for a white label CD or go have a chat with whoever makes these advances. If you want to press things, things need to improve. Watch for the CD on January 7 and maybe a review of a CD in the January SLUG. –Jeffrey Odometer 

Savatage
Dead Winter Dead
Atlantic 

The Innocence Mission
Flow
A&M 

Air Liquide
Red
Sm:)e 

Every month has its theme. The shit comes in the mail and one way or another before I’m finished hacking out the crap for this rag the theme emerges. This month the theme is fucked-up advances. Two cassettes and a CD–each of them has its own unique fuck-up. Savatage is first. 

No doubt a review of this one will appear in the metal column. Mr. Forgach will snap the CD and a press kit. All I get is the advance. The first news is that it isn’t selling. The second is that my copy plays backwards: Side A and Side B are Savatage going in reverse. The sound quality is despicable. Way to go Atlantic. Good fucking album from Savatage. I’ll pass it along to some local samplers. The backwards guitar is incredible! Funny thing though, even after listening to the entire thing backwards I can’t find the hidden satanic messages. 

A&M sent an advance of the Innocence Mission’s new album. Much like Savatage, the tape they sent was defective so it wouldn’t play at all. Good album from the Innocence Mission as well. The quality of pre-recorded cassette tapes never fails to amaze me.

Let’s see…this CD came to me with a press release describing Air Liquide as a duo of electronic musicians set on taking electronic music to a higher level. I plugged the baby into the player and found that the first song, titled “Interactive Warlords” in the conveniently provided press kit, was actually a celebration of Carnival. Here it is November and I’ve received the March disc already. I continued listening believing that these electronic cats had indeed come up with something new and different. Whoops, hollers, a brass band, and a Louis Armstrong sound-a-like on the vocals is my kind of experimental electronic music. The next tune, supposedly titled “If There Was No Gravity (Jammin’ Unit Remix),” opens with tribal drums and lyrics describing the “fine” booty lining the streets of New Orleans during Mardi Gras. I haven’t ingested any Ecstasy at all and I’m thinking I’m listening to the Rebirth Brass Band or something. Talk about trippin’. 

Believe it or not the next song appears to be “Iko Iko,” except Air Liquide calls it “Der Laufer.” Is that German for Iko Iko? These Germans can really capture the authentic sound of New Orleans with their electronic keyboards, computers and sampling units. It continues for about 45 minutes. Here are some quotes from prominent publications on the sound of Air Liquide. “(Air Liquide) could make you glazy and geeked out enough to spazz til dawn” and “will continue to cleanse you with sonic vapor waves of synthesized moisture.” I’ll say!! A full brass band playing “Tipitina” always had that effect on me. –Egatavas 

Schtum
Grow
Work 

Schtum is a return to the “huge” sound of the mid-80s. The production on the CD is so big and fat that they sound like U2. The theme of the month is missing press kits or defective advances. I’m making the guess that the band is either English or Irish. Spinning through the disc several weeks after I last listened to it I find the U2 references are even more apparent. There’s more than U2 influences, how about some early Cure or Fall? 

In fact the main thing I was trying to figure out while listening to the CD was who exactly they do sound like. It changes from tune to tune. Schtum is a band that has mastered the sound-alike bit. Anthemic British rock like you haven’t heard in years. Major hit potential is present. Maybe by mid-96 Schtum will be a household name in Utah. 

Shirk Circus
March
Bar/None 

Helen can sit for hours watching live television or tapes from her three VCRs. I usually view the tube with the sound turned off, a book or a magazine and the stereo blasting. I turned the sound up on the QVC Beatles special for about 10 minutes the other night and heard the announcer tell about walking into record stores and hearing music that was unlistenable. He claimed the clerks are about 12-years old. What the gentleman heard was Mannheim Steamroller, Garth Brooks, Mariah Carey, Michael Bolton, Kenny G and The Beatles, because that is what corporate chain store owners force the 12-year-olds to play. He went on and on about some song where the singer repeated three or four words over and over again and how much he hated “modern” music. I think the title of what he heard was “Love Me Do.”

I can’t picture the fool wearing his sports jacket and Beatles Anthology T-shirt entering Raunch or the Heavy Metal shop. He shops the malls and I was surprised to learn that he wasn’t able to detect that Beatles influence is so prevalent in the current crop of British rock. What does any of this have to do with Shirk Circus? Well…I detected an interest in another English export when they started to play. The influence would appear to be E.C. or Mr. Costelle with some Graham Parker and Nick Lowe thrown in for good measure. The band has three people and are from Memphis. The music they play has the previously mentioned hints to British pop of a decade past but it is Americanized for enhanced enjoyment. In case anyone has missed the trend lately it is American-indie-pop. There are stacks and stacks of these pleasing items sitting in all those monster shops that have opened around town lately. The clerks don’t know Squatters Pub about them, the shoppers ignore them, the band play to 2 or 30 downtown “critics” praise them in glossy rags. Tune in to KRCL or KUTE and you might hear Shirk Circus or another like minded band. Otherwise stick with whatever comfort zone your “tribe” has embraced. –G-Ahknee 

Teengenerate
Smash Hits!
Estrus 

The only reason a Teengenerate review is printed in SLUG is to piss off Helen Wolf. Dave at Estrus compiled what is supposed to be the cream of Teengenerate’s singles output. Cover versions take up at least half the disc. From the common stuff like The Zeros’ “Wild Weekend” to the more obscure such as “Talk, Talk, Talk, Talk,” which the liner notes inform me was an original by The Reaction. The Reaction later shortened the song’s title and became much more famous and rich as Talk Talk. Cover versions such as this are what every good bar band needs to learn. I’m sure every bar band in Utah can cover the likes of DMZ, The Nervous Eaters, Angry Samoans, The Pretty Things, the Fun Things and Radio Birdman in one set. Teengenerate make the covers virtually indistinguishable from their own originals. 

These Japanese boys are absolutely and totally crazy. If anyone in Utah had the good sense to book them into a local club the place wouldn’t be left standing in the morning. Many, many bands try to get this garage-punk rock is dead and garage is retro, might I suggest you visit Raunch or Raspberry. They are the only stores in town that stock Estrus. Teengenerate will expand your mind like drinking a pint of Everclear while pouring a second pint on the road rash received after attempting to RollerBlade down 4th South from 11th East to 9th while huffing a gallon or two of unleaded, doing a faceplant and skidding downhill for a Salt Lake City block. Every SLUG reader is advised to fax X-96 with a request for “Let’s Get Hurt.” –Sky “Seedy” Sinclair 

The Brother Boys
Presley’s Grocery
Sugarhill Records 

The disc was recorded in Vernon’s store and a former army colonel by the name of Tom Parker produced it. The band is pictured inside the booklet holding mason jars, apples and lilac bouquets. As is typical with these guitar bands one guy is wearing high-top Chuck Taylor’s and another male has work boots. The bass player is a girl! 

The previous information was provided in an attempt to sneak this review into the pages of SLUG. The Brother Boys are yet another indie band recording for a label not punk enough or major enough to purchase an ad in these pages. In fact this guitar band is playing in the trendiest of all MTV big budget formats. They use acoustic instruments! Colin Escott wrote the short blurb on the back of the CD, they cover a Patti Page record that some famous dead guy later recorded for a label now owned by Shelby Singleton and they aren’t a “new country,” “indie rock,” “trip hop” or “speed metal” band. You won’t see the video on MTV or VH-1; the Mountain, X-96, the Breeze, the Arrow, KSOP, K-Bull, and Q-99 won’t touch it with a pungi stick and I’ll be fucked with the same if the harmonies don’t bring laughter or a tear of joy. The production is clear as a bell, the music is as uplifting as a Mormon phallic symbol rising completely erect above the River Jordan to the west and I’m not expecting to see Ron Yengich review Presley’s Grocery after discussing Garth “Pitiful” Brooks while taking a piss stop with two sell-outs. It’s a happy record, not as happy as a smiley face ‘70s tribute album, but nevertheless happy. Beautiful, happy, sun-tanned, colorful music to offend the morose hordes dressed in black or even worse the slackers who for some strange reason believe they can duplicate electric kool-aid acid tests or free love in the age of AIDS, militias and a federal storm trooper police force known as the IRS. Five SLUGs to the face for the Brother Boys.  –Sugar “Truckin/Fuckin” Maggot 

The Music Of Kentucky
Early American Rural Classics 1927-37
Yazoo 2013 

Alabama Blues
1927-1931
Yazoo 1006 

My parents weren’t born when this music was recorded. My grandparents were probably mere thoughts, yet the music draws me. This is about as hillbilly as it gets. I don’t plan to bore you with a description of each and every one of the 26 songs presented. The recordings are all incredibly rare and the utmost care was taken in the remastering process to make them sound as good as possible. The originals play at 78 rpm. Most readers don’t own a turntable let alone one that rotates that fast, but believe me they made ten-inch records once upon a time. (What rpm does a CD spin at?) A 78 was never the best recording medium to begin with. Even a mind condition copy has some hiss. Overall the disc sounds pretty good, the musical integrity is preserved and the hiss is minimal. Everything from rural string bands, spirituals, breakdowns and unaccompanied fiddlers are here. I think there is even one of those “smut” tunes. What else could “Ginseng Blues” be about? The Kentucky Ramblers are going at it with such speed and energy that they can’t take a breath to sing. 

I’ll close with a couple of paragraphs from Alan Lomax who (of course) recorded some of this music. “Leslie County is perhaps the most backward and the most isolated section of Kentucky. Hyden has a population of at most 1500 and it is the metropolis of the county, a rickety courthouse, a sinister brownstown jail, unshaven loafers around the garage and country store. These remnants of the unhurried past watch the automobiles on the pike and the old ones curse while the young ones rejoice. The young people were so shy that it was hard to find out what their names were, but the oldsters, as soon as they had been made to understand several times that my name was such and such and my station thus, they were willing to “help.” (Visited Chesterfield lately?) Thank the good Lord that they did because this music is about as punk as it gets. 

First, Kentucky whites and now Alabama Blacks, what has SLUG become? The artists featured here; Barefoot Bill, Clifford Gibson, Jay Bird Coleman, Edward Thompson, Ed Bell, Marshall Owens and George “Bullet” Wilson, aren’t exactly Household names. Their music was recorded on 78s for labels virtually no one has ever heard of, with the exception of Barefoot Bill and Jay Bird Coleman who recorded for OKeh, a label now owned by the Japanese megacorp Sony.

Listening to the two recordings back to back is a fascinating study in the history of American music. The African Americans at this time have forsaken their fiddles and banjos and taken up the guitar. The whites took up the fiddle and banjo and each race took something from the other. As much as many people would like to ignore it–in the rural areas the musicians were influenced by each other. Alabama Blues has as much hiss as The Music Of Kentucky. It’s all guitar and vocals with a few tunes featuring harp. 

The more proficient local guitarists might want to sit down and try to copy anything they hear. Don’t worry they can’t except for maybe James Steward, he could jam with any of these cats. If anyone can figure out the tuning and chord patterns used the next task is to duplicate the vocals. There are residents of the state who talk and act exactly like the rural population of Alabama or Kentucky in the 1930’s be they white or black. The trick is to get them to play a little music and record them just as Alan Lomax did. Travel down the winding streets of a Utah trailer park of the neighborhoods of Kearns and listen for that family with fiddles, banjos, a stomp box and a guitar. Forget that, record them pounding on their fat bellies while farting, grunting, burping, having phone sex or trying to speak. Rural Kentucky/Alabama in the 1930’s of the Utah suburbs of the ‘90s this music is still being made. The only difference is the sound of gunshots and sirens captured as ambiance in the background. –Riley Puckett 

Pineal Ventana
Living Soil
Half Baked Records

Dark images–Surf music for the far shore of the river Lethe–Storms before the candles have quite warmed the room to a comfortable golden dream. The blurry sounds of gods buried below the apple orchard, and the leaves crisp rattle while apples fall. A great album for sex with handcuffs and ebony gags, on a stiff chair in a plaster room with dome ceilings. A barber was forced to use a serrated blade for lack of scissors. A Cadillac in Kansas is nowhere chasing a tornado’s tail. Three O’clock in the morning. Acid and black corset demonic speed fucking. The sound one hears when inhaling the aroma of wood and centuries old resin of shellac from the F hole of a violin made by Amati or Guerenarias. A pressed flower found in a diary from a soldier killed in the civil war. The lithe, calm, numinous movements the drowned woman makes floating just under the surface from the Itasca into the Mississippi. The same body sliding like a thank you note onto a silver salver, into the ocean and away. A wonderful difficult album. –St. Felcher 

Boss Hog
Boss Hog
DGC 

Don’t let the first three tracks on this album put you off. Courtney Love is not the only artist Boss Hog uses as an influence. Their Hole imitation is totally lame. But the other twelve songs are very interesting–broad ranges of music are surveyed and skillfully thought out in good nuff interpretations. From country performed in the Urals to Delta blues as understood by Cambodian tree frogs to ballads full of yearning and love as might have come from one of the particularly happy guards at Auschwitz, these guys are very original–not on par with Tom Waits, but what the hey? They had a lot of help with the more inventive songs from studio technology–but a lot of guys have helped with their sexuality from black motorcycles. They can still get their girlfriends pregnant. I think you’d be better off getting a new copy of Queen Jazz or Tom Waits’ Franks Wild Years, or Dylan’s Bringing It All Back Home. But if you gave a shit you would already own these three. So go ahead and get this album–if that’s all you really have left to spend your money on. –St. Felcher 

Poe
Hello
Atlantic 

Poe IS a very attractive woman, who can turn a fast double-entendre, and, if she writes the lyrics, is a good lyricist. You’re either gonna buy the album or you’re not–and my review ain’t gonna change your mind. I think it is a very good album. But I also think it is an album made by a committee and corporation to be what people want. Though it reminds me of Ricky Lee Jones‘ Chuck E‘s in Love album, I don’t think Poe is the talent Ricky Lee is. And therefore she loses my vote on integrity grounds, and on punk ethics. Not that one cannot have a beautifully produced album. There are many examples of beautiful integrity ridden albums–The Beatles catalog less Let It Be for example. But do you remember “Real Life’s Heart Land?” Great songs–but total product on Heart Land. The drum track speed–a perfect dance beat–dictated each song. Almost as though each song–though already written–was stretched or crushed to formal corporate desire to make a danceable and therefore sellable piece of product. I like this album–but I distrust its motives and its honesty. Again, Queen was a totally dishonest, superficial band for much of their career, but they were upfront about their shallowness. Queen was about spectacle and not depth. But Poe would have us believe she really is real–flesh and blood–and this is an extension of her creativity. And I don’t believe that for one moment. –St. Felcher 

I.C.U.
Intensive Care Unit
O No No O Zone
Radical Records 

Somewhere in between The Plasmatics‘ Wendy O. Williams and early Blondie lie I.C.U. What could be bad? Screechy, repetitive guitars with big power chorus’ in most of the songs on O No No O Zone. I’m not even sure that’s the name of the record. Maybe it’s “Oh No … No Ozone ” as in “Uh oh, there’s no more Ozone and we will all die,” or maybe it’s just a play on words? Anyhoo, this is definitely a checker-outer, if you can find it. Mucho political lyrics that you can really listen to, and cool hard & heavy guitars throughout. –BOB 

Hor
House
The Sort of Quartet
Planter Mamon
SST 

Since the departure of Husker Du and Sonic Youth, the once venerable SST label, run by former Black Flag guitarist Greg Ginn, has released a litany of shitty records that has threatened to forever tarnish the label’s reputation. With few exceptions, the roster has been populated by awful punk bands and Ginn side projects (which were often the same thing). The label has dabbled in jazz with a good degree of success, particularly with Bazooka and Cruel Frederick. The Sort of Quartet are of the palpable jazz variety of SST releases. The seven piece tore off some noisy yet exotic numbers on its debut, Planet Mamon. Sporting titles like “Twisto Mambo” and “The Big Stomp” the group concocts musical mutants that incorporate rock and fusion jazz elements reminiscent of one time SST stalwarts Saccharin Trust. For anyone willing to stretch their limits a bit, Planet Marnon should prove to be one the year’s most creative imminently likable releases. Enter Hor, a (surprise) Ginn project along with percussionist Andy Batwinas. The music is all instrumental, dance-oriented stuff, sort of a post-punk take on Herbie Hancock‘s Rock it. While not nearly as annoying as Ginn’s more industrial stuff, the repetitive nature of the material gets a bit tiresome after a while. It doesn’t suck, but there’s way too many other groups doing this stuff way better to bother.  –MacGyver 

Spacehog
Resident Alien
(Sire) 

Englishmen, relocating to NYC, Spacehog picks up where Ziggy Stardust left off on their major label debut, Resident Alien. Spacehog re-invents David Bowie‘s charismatic nature and songwriting ability, adding a catchy bounce of their own to the overall production of the record.
This is a rock n’ roll record guitars galore (some organ/synth effects)- with abstract but captivating lyrics about space, love, and money (Royston Langdon sings like Bowie and Axl Rose!) Resident Alien deviates from the current fad of “alternative” music although it will fare well on the modern rock charts-perhaps the reho-element Spacehog takes on is what makes their music so hot! –Gary Savelson

Sunny Day Real Estate
Self-titled (Sub pop) 

Sunny Day Real Estate has released one last LP although the band is now defunct. What happened? Well, certain members defected to the Foo Fighters, Dave Grohl‘s (Nirvana) band. Sunny Day Real Estate attained notable success, especially on the west coast with the single “Seven” off their record, Diary. It’s a shame that their days have passed so soon. They had a knack for dramatic progressions in song structure on their recordings-melodic guitar riffs and light vocals to frenetic discord and angst! 

Raging yet melancholic singer/guitarist, Jeremy Enigk, sets a tone for the band, somehow making them distinct from the rest of the “college/garage rock” thrust onto the alternative charts. He sustains composure; he is a composer of music rather than a wretched rock stag! Enigk has passion. Sunny Day Real Estate was a band composed of proficient musicians. Listen closely to “Theo B,” with its catchy picking, complimentary bass, and theatrical closing. “Red Elephant” is just as good if not better, truly showing Sunny Day Real Estate’s mature song-writing capability. –Gary Savelson 

Box of Walls
Stuff
Countdown Records 

Box of Walls are a very good live band, one of those which you hear in the foyer and think to yourself: “I know that…Wow, wow oh wow! My lucky day.” But, truth be told, you don’t know any of the songs. What a shame. Their album explains why. It is a good album, a nice album, a well made album but it is also a bore. I don’t think this is anybody’s fault. I don’t want to lay any blame, nor do I wish to see this very good band cease. But there is simply too much that is fine coming from women artists lately. This is simply not good enough to give the thumbs up to in comparison. If we were talking painting–then it would be a fine painting–and worth collecting. But unlike the world of Carravagio, where any canvas by the master is simply unavailable, and where the Caravaggisti canvases are worth owning because they are good imitations of the master. But in the world of recorded music, one never needs a cover band, much less a clone band. And these guys are a bit of a generic ‘90s girl band kind of thing. Things you really should own: The Throwing Muses First Album, The Raincoats Albums, The Bell Tower’s Albums. The comparisons are easy, would you rather own Nirvana’s In Utero, or Compulsions Comforter. Is there any??? Ok.  –St. Felcher 

Tracy Chapman
New Beginning
(Elektra) 

New Beginning, is a collection of delicate folk, country, reggae, distinctive rhythms, and a new age ambiance. The backbone of the record is Chapman’s brilliance of the acoustic guitar and the stirring lyrical content she presents: love, suffering, social imbalance, tolerance. 

“New Beginning,” the title track sums it all up in a reggae fashion, preaching the words “start all over” in regard to the world’s negative condition. She’s courageous and talented enough to tackle this topic, although, there can be such a broad debate on the issue–things simply aren’t that simple! “Heaven’s Here On Earth,” is an ambient somewhat haunting track sending the message that things could be tranquil and pleasant right here on earth perhaps an overly optimistic song, perhaps not? “The Rape of the World,” is a beautiful, melancholic ballad adding to the theme of the record. The songs are long according to industry standards, all but one, passing the five minute mark. New Beginning is sincerely crafted with spotless production–Chapman continues to write about social conditions with the hope that it will affect any and all listeners out there. –Gary Savelson 

The Mermen
A Glorious Lethal Euphoria
Mesa 

Somebody somewhere thinks pretty highly of The Mermen. They played the Fillmore in San Francisco last New Year’s Eve, a damn prestigious spot if you ask me. Hundreds of crybabies tripping out on a hybrid of surf-guitar and punk (I can only imagine, I certainly wasn’t there to witness it). I will say that a musical ensemble that opts towards not including some sort of vocal production in their release has itself a relatively big hill to climb in the market the Mermen are vying for, and I’m not sure they’re got the chops to pull it off one hundred percent. Part of what made Dick Dale (and by extension, surf guitar) accessible to, say, East High is the clean cut-through sound that punched a hole into the credits of Pulp Fiction. The Mermen are not so quick, nor are they nearly as clean, and they often wander out into protracted slow pieces that are like anthemic fusion jams. Don’t get me wrong–a nice and simple surf guitar sound can be heard here and there on the album, it’s just that in most cases you’ll have to filter out all the layering of fuzz and backwash and ambiance that they layered on top of it, which to my mind seems to go against the point. Many of the songs are over five minutes long, in a medium that tops off at about three. Three of the songs are nine minutes or more, and could easily have come off the middle of a bad Yes record (naming the songs long and fantastical names that sound like they were inspired by various drug trips doesn’t hurt this allusion). The ultimate analysis is that as background music (which lyrical less music almost always falls into, at least for me the point seems to be to not listen to it actively) it’s fine, if you’re a huge fan of the genre the variance might be welcoming, but I would say there’s better out there if you search. –Capt. America 

Ash
Trailer
Reprise

There’s something slightly off kilter about this album which the lyricist did not abate by providing me the opportunity to peruse a transcript of what he’s singing in the little CD booklet (of course, with most bands I am not provided with this opportunity and am left to decipher mumblings and yawlings with either repeated listening or just to say fuck it). This off kilterish-ness becomes apparent even in the first song, which is about the singer’s losing a friend to suicide, and the feelings that go with it. Now if you just listen to the music, you have a relatively straightforward indie rock song template, not a particularly outstanding one for any reason, but neither is it unlistenable, and could even be deemed enjoyable given the correct set of circumstances. Now just take the lyrics, without the music, and you have a relatively straightforward poem about loss and the changing of seasons, not an outstanding poem mind you, but heartfelt and served well. Put the two together and I don’t know what you have. If you start to dance to it, you can’t help but notice it’s about suicide. If you start thinking about your friend who committed suicide, you can’t help but notice that your feet are moving. The most telling song is one called “Punk Boy,” about how to tell a punk boy from the posers, and sounds curiously like the songwriter’s trying to come out of the closet and into pop music. Maybe he should. –Capt. America 

Joe Christmas
Upstairs, Overlooking
Tooth & Nail 

The first song, “Mr. Flood” sounds like it was recorded with the lead singer caught underneath my grandmother’s hide-a-bed, which I was just beginning to enjoy when he came out from under. “Coupleskate” is next up, about going to a skating party circa the third grade with a  girl and taking her to the candy counter and getting her whatever she wanted. This I like, in spite of the fact that of the many times I played roller tag to Rick Springfield at the Classic Roller Rink on 21st south, I never once had a date thank you very much. The band manages to conjure up happy images from childhood without ruining them (Witness: in Reality Bites, when they’re all on the roof singing “Conjunction Junction,” it felt like a bastardization of not only all the times I sat in front of the television Saturday mornings as a youth, but also all the times my friends sat around stoned and tried to remember all the Schoolhouse Rock lyrics: it’s great when you do it, but once you realize everyone else is doing it too…). The album could easily be subtitled “a twenty to twenty-five year old’s retrospective on summer 1983.” Anyway, the lead singer sounds like he’s still learning, and unlike Weezer or They Might Be Giants, it works. I say good stuff. –Capt. America 

Stanley
Clobbered
Another Planet Records

The world “Clobbered” will forever belong to The Thing from The Fantastic Four. That having been said, Stanley does a pretty goddamn good job of trying to do it to you. Definitely learn music with a strong rhythm section. Great heavy bass lines that the drummer goes right along with, smart guitar and snappy lyrics Henry Rollins belted style. It should either be played loud or not at all, and would be best if you could see it in concert, with some aggression to burn off. But take it as you can get it. I just went through the album again to see if there was a low point that I could pick on, but it’s pretty evenly good, which is rare to say the least. They have a song called “Cal Jammer”, which is the name of the porn star who shot himself standing in front of his ex-wife’s house a few months ago. (This is beside the point, but for porno soundtracks look for Chemical People albums, who did a lot of stuff for the Dark Bros., and also The Plugz, whose album the theme song from New Wave Hookers comes). –Capt. America 

Moonwater
Invitation
Masquerade

Look for Moonwater soon at Rafters. I kept giving this album chances for me to like it, and on each and every count I found myself A) not enjoying myself in the slightest way whatsoever and B) growing increasingly aware of the time I was throwing away trying to like an album that is simply no good. The press release was so earnest, they seemed like such good guys, if you’re reading this: Masquerade Recordings, you really seem like good guys, but you’ve got a stinker on your hands. Lots of howling, lots of drawn-out supposedly psychedelic heavy metal sounding ickiness. Bad lyrics, bad singer, bad melodies, bad mixing. Bad idea. –Capt. America 

Guilt
Bardstown Ugly Box
Victory Records 

I once worked with a night baker who would get in a manic phase, stop taking his Prozac, and start up with crack. I think he committed suicide. This is the kind of music he listened to. –Capt. America 

Various Artists
It’s Finally Christmas
Tim Kerr Records 

It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas! A friend of mind, whilst living in Los Angeles, wrote and directed a Christmas musical with the above title (It’s Christmas x 4) which was a malt shoppe singalong that went on and on until you were about to go insane, and then play ended with the crucifixion and self-castration of Mr. Nicholas, the neck-brace-wearing-gruff-but-with-a-heart-of-gold malt shoppe owner. I personally loved the play, but it wasn’t for everyone. What better way to spend a holiday season than mocking the entire thing? I’ve spent many a joyous Joel watching the greed and gluttony of shoppers, such an easy mark, a whopping obvious target, and yet such joy to prey upon. In any case, here’s a compilation of alternatives doing original Christmas songs, and a few covers, from the same label that brought us the uneven but nevertheless purchasable spoken word compilation Talking Rain. I don’t know the bands in question, for the most part, but so what. Swoon’s “Merry Christmas to Me” has some very funny lyrics. Pond’s “Gloria in Excelsis Deo” is nothing special. Hitting Birth and the Dandy Warhols both do “Little Drummer Boy” and it gets old in about a verse, but it’s supposed to: it’s The Little Drummer Boy for God’s sake. There’s also two versions of The Grinch. Some of the songs, in any other context, would suck outright: Poison Idea’s “Santa Claus is Back in Town,” Iceberg Slim’s “Christmas Dressed In Blue,” The Violet’s “Rebel Jesus.” It’s not really fair to pick it apart too much, because the truth is Christmas music is supposed to be cheesy and poor quality and ugly and drive you mad. Although I am one who at Christmas time is quite happy listening to Kenny Rogers Christmas, or Julio Iglesisas’ Feliz Navidad!, this will help make a welcome soundtrack to my holiday. –Capt. America 

Nixons
Eye Tv
Incandescent 

Thanks to those grungy teenagers in Silverchair, we’ll probably see a second wave of band’s from down under. Nixons hails from New Zealand, but that’s close enough for me to make some sort of trite comparison. They do sort of an early U2 by way of Live with a heavy metal guitar thing that wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t back lines like “Life is bright as night inside/I love to close my eyes”. Whatever. I’ve learned that saying bands suck is actually a good thing so I’ll forgo any evaluation and just end with a big fat yawn. –MacGyver 

Step Right Up: The Songs of Tom Waits
Various Artists
Manifesto 

Anybody who knows me knows my firm and irrevocable stance: TOM WAITS IS GOD. There’s no getting around it, and I ain’t going to apologize. That having been said, Gianni sent me this album for review. Alright, he tells me Holly Cole’s Tom Waits covers album Temptation wasn’t any good (he talked me out of buying it…for now). Then there’s Sarah McLachlan’s cover of “Ol’ 55” on the Boys on the Side soundtrack which isn’t so bad. Tom Waits’ and Robert Wilson’s “Opera Alice” recently played at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. I mention these only because it seems there’s a lot of Tom Waits in the air recently, a fact that I have no problem with. The album is lopsided, of course, whaddya expect from a tribute album? Drugstore’s “Old Shoes” is a pretty good college music version. Tindersticks’ “Mockin’ Bird” is a pretty rotten semi-lounge version. Pete Shelley’s “Better Off Without a Wife” massacres the original’s spirit in favor of frat-punk bullshit. The Wedding Present’s “Red Shoes by the Drugstore” suffers from sounding too much like the original and thus paling immediately and irrevocably by the comparison, which is a malady with a few of the songs here and on any tribute album. The Violent Femmes’ “Step Right Up” is very strange because Gordon Gano can be muy loco, the jury’s still out on this one. Archers of Loaf do a “Nighthawks at the Diner” song, which works pretty well actually. These Immortal Souls do the same thing with a “One From the Heart” song, except that the singer sucks. Jeffrey Lee Pierce turns “Pasties and a G-String” into Hip Hop, which in theory would eat shit, but that is one of my favorites. “Fuck ‘em til they die!” is what my friend S. Felcher used to exclaim, and that’s certainly what Magnapop deserves for their offering. Pale Saints’ “Jersey Girl” beats out Springsteen’s, Frente’s “Ruby’s Arms” is heartfelt (although every time I’ve listened to it I’ve pulled out “Heartattack and Vine” and listened to the original immediately afterwards), and 10,000 Maniacs do a fine job with “I Hope That I Don’t Fall in Love With You.” If you’ve done your job, then you already own all the Tom Waits albums and this will merely accentuate your collection. If you don’t already own them all, you have your work cut out for you, and if you don’t have any! A) Fuck you til you die. B) Buy at least “Rain Dogs” and “Asylum Years” to give yourself a start. If you need an order in which to buy the rest, send a SASE, ten Camel Bucks and two creeping charlies to Young Capt. America, Washington Heights Sunoco Station (stage entrance). –Capt. America 

The Sun Sawed In ½
MindFlip
Beehive

I have to admit that this CD grew on me. The first time that I listened to it I didn’t think that much of it, and I’ve got a lot on my plate this month so that was going to be it for The Sun. Then a miraculous thing happened: the promo material to the band actually made me want to listen to the album. This is rare when the majority of promo stuff I get to read is about as appealing as a vaginal blood fart. So I put it back in the player, paid a little more attention this time around, and couldn’t help but notice that the guys were pretty damn happy. Considering that about seventeen eighteenths of the stuff I listen to is about how shitty this world is, it was a nice change. The band is happy. It kind of makes you happy to listen to them. There’s no doubt that it’s popular music in the same old college/alternative style, so if you can’t stand anything softer than Helmet then it’s nothing for you, but if crossing Freddie Mercury with Crowded House and speeding it up a bit sounds pretty good, then you’re right. –Capt. America 

Hotel X
Ladders
SST Records 

An album of jazz. I should almost disqualify myself as worthy of reviewing this, because when I’m in the mood for jazz I’m not altogether discerning. I also don’t stray far from what I know. I listen mostly to Coltrane, Miles, or Charlie Parker, and I’ve never bought a recording that failed me. I don’t know that I’d rank Hotel X with the aforementioned names, but they are pretty good, and they’re certainly jazz. Jazz with guitars, jazz with saxophones, clarinets, trumpets, fretless and rock basses. Funky jazz, slow jazz, bluesy jazz. Almost like a band from Bill Laswell’s Axiom label but with a little more reverence for jazz history and a little more mellow in their pipe. They cover the spectrum and I think that they do it well. There’s one song called “Morning Song” that gets a bit out of hand with the horns, almost like a high school marching band, but as low points go it’s not all that low. The rest of the album is highly listenable, and they never let anyone riff go on for too long, which is nice. A sound investment. –Capt. America 

Blur
The Great Escape
Virgin Records America 

A big silly album of toothless pop music designed merely for sensual auditory enjoyment without any serious contemplative activity. They’re not trying to solve the world’s problems, nor are they singing about the horrible breakup they just went through and how they are beginning to see the correlation between nuclear disarmament and premature ejaculation. They’re simply screwing around. Of course, I sang along with The Beatles’ “Baby you can drive my car, beep-beep, beep-beep-beep, yeah!” many times before I asked myself what the hell I was singing. The CD booklet is modeled after a marketing campaign, which I thought was clever, but that could be because I’ve sold out here in the Big Apple and work for a major corporation, not to mention that I was recently involved in the launch of a major marketing campaign (of course, I’m also making shitloads of cash). The lead singer sounds like he came from the same strata of British accent structure as the guy from Madness, if not the same actual apartment building. If Duran Duran were to have begun their careers in modern day music, it’s entirely conceivable that they would sound like Blur. Purely Q99 fare (is Q99 still alive? I’ve been away for so long…), but the songs could be a hell of a lot worse. It’s certainly in their favor that they’re not trying to be something else. It’s catchy, it’s light, it’s upbeat, I don’t know that I’d have gone out and bought it, but if it came on the radio I probably wouldn’t change the station. –Capt. America 

Liquorice
Listening Cap
4 AD 

What has 4 A.D. done that they would sign these guys? Bauhaus, Dead Can Dance, Throwing Muses, Pixies, Cocteau Twins, Liquorice? An album for washing the dog too? An album for turning off? An album that is just too boring to even write about. Another generic three button shirt for the masses to wear. I expect this from Atlantic or Sony, but 4 AD. has been one of the premier couture houses of offbeat pop music. Your ears deserve more than this peanut-butter and jelly on wonder bread of an album. –St. Felcher 

Joy Electric
Five Stars For Failure
Tooth and Nail Records 

Biblical electronic music! Isn’t there some other guy, Moby Grape or Mobius Dish, or Slayer or something, I can’t quite remember, that does the same thing? The majority of the songs have biblical references after them: “keep him in your thoughts [ecclesiastes 12:1-8]” and the like, except for “drum machine joy (the house in the woods mix)”. Alot of the manufactured sounds could easily have been sampled from “Barney and Friends,” they all sound like the tape that comes with your Fisher Price Music Machine, except with Sunday school lyrics, and an “I’ve-just-taken-an-animal-tranquilizer-with sideline-hallucinogenic-properties” beat. You may hear it playing while you browse through Galaxina. And if you’re browsing through Galaxina then by all means you deserve whatever it is you’re listening to. –Capt. America 

Upside Down Room
Tooth And Nail Records 

The bio claims that they came from the influences of old school punk (Sex Pistols, Ramones, Bad Religion, and the Buzzcocks), but don’t expect rehash in the veins of Rancid or Green Day. What influences only serve to provide the band with a base to work. They accomplish what their contemporaries have failed, they have brought the punk sound into the nineties, redefined and full of energy. It’s a great fucking album. The only fault is that it ends before you want it to. –JAND 

Replicants
Replicants
Zoo Entertainment

The cover of The Cars “Just What I Needed” has already hit the radio air waves, but who are Replicants? Failure between the tours they shared. The result of their mingling together was the self-title record. It is their own dark view of the musical history that constitutes their influences. They are influences that range from Gary Numan’s “Are Friends Electric” and Missing Persons’ ‘Destination Unknown’ to Neil Young‘s “Cinnamon Girl” and Bolan’s “Life is a Gas.” The songs they cover are given new life with their spacy guitars and the dark somber-ness that characterizes Tool. The most successful interpretation of the album is their rendition of Bowie’s “The Belway Brothers’ The album is well worth getting (especially if you got into Gumball’s own attempt of redefining classic tunes), but don’t expect it to be a Tool record, it is definitely a separate project. –JAND 

Battershell
Beautiful Princess Of Spit
Ng Records 

Only four tracks are provided on the EP to get an idea of who they are. Chick Rock? Well, definitely in that vein, but without the energy of Hole or the catchy appeal of Elastica (if you would even consider them music). Battershell is a watered-down Liz Phair or a garage-band Hatfield. The drumming is weak but the guitars’ scratchy and fuzzed melodies make up for its faults. It could quite easily fit into radio play and if you’re into the recent girl rock fad (Hatfield, Mary’s Danish, or Eve’s Plum) then it’s worth a listen, but don’t expect a whole lot from it. Battershell is the unfortunate eminent assault of Labels cashing in on the Chick Rock phenomenon. The better tracks are “Weed (Dirty Magazine)” and “Say Goodnight to the Cat Named After Mozart,” but even those don’t really add up to much. –JAND 

Kiss The Clown
Kiss The Clown
Rotten Records 

If Perry Farrel started singing Flaming Lips’ lyrics to hard driven pop music like that of Seaweed you might get Kiss The Clown. It’s quirky and fun. It’s the type of thing that frat boys would call ‘fucking awesome’ and the rest of us would say ‘that’s not bad.’ It won’t change your life, but play it at your next party and it would make it a little more entertaining (and that might change your life). It’s tight, energetic, and silly (not as much as Show Business Giants, but, hey, what is?). Maybe I would not have gone out on my own to purchase it, but now that I got it I won’t get rid of it. It’s worth a listen just for its fun and carefree sense of living. –JAND 

Garden Variety
Knocking The Skill Level
Headhunter/Cargo Records

Remember the eighties underground? Ever wondered what Dinosaur Jr. and Sonic Youth would sound like in the nineties if they weren’t so caught up with being pop icons? Ever wonder what the Rave Ups would be like if they had balls? What R.E.M. would sound like if they weren’t pansies? What would happen if you combined the Velvets with Smashing Pumpkins? What would happen if you combined all of that with a sense of integrity that would exclude a record label’s desire to create the next big pop thing? Garden Variety. That’s what. Get it! –JAND 

Pinhead Gunpowder
Carry The Banner
Lookout 

Thought you were finally saved from being assaulted by Green Day? Guess again, that voice, that blatant rip off of the Buzzcocks, is here again. Pinhead Gunpowder (named after a Tea?) is the merging of Green Day, Crimpshrine, and Monsula. As far as I can see the other bands only allow the guitars to be a little better, but it’s still Green Day; pop-punk bass lines; catchy (like the flu) tunes, and stupid lyrics. The bio called the album ‘their fifteen minutes of fame’ well, that’s fifteen minutes too long. Get it if you’re into Green Day, but don’t come talkin’ to me, you trendy bastards. –JAND 

Screw Radio
Talk Radio Violence
SST 

Screw Radio centers around Gregg Ginn, the chief song-writer of Black Flag fame. But don’t get too caught up on the Black Flag reference. Screw Radio is the mixing of heavy percussion and guitar from the morons you love to hate; politicians, journalists, evangelists, and media whores. The samples are arranged and juxtaposed to provide a serious social commentary on the corrupt media world. But the commentary resists being oppressive and stuffy due to the witty humor of Ginn and the dancy and poppy music. The pieces are funny as shit. They have to be with titles such as “The Republicrats,” “Feminist Banter (I Want To Be Degraded),” and “President Hillary.” It is definitely not the album for everyone, but if you’re not squeamish you have to find a copy and listen to it (unfortunately it’s not going to get radio play, go figure). And, hey, it’s on SST, gotta support them. –JAND 

Medusa Cyclone
Medusa Cyclone
Third Gear 

It’s that electronic music, not the dance shit, the experimental stuff. It’s hypnotic, surreal, psychotic, trippy, psychedelic, ambient, spacey, airy, trancy, sonically textured…alright, I got carried away with hip descriptions. Listen, if you get off on Orb, Lush, Chrome, or maybe even My Bloody Valentine it might be the album for you (but probably not). But trust me on this, listen to it first before you buy it. I’m not a big fan of this ‘trance-inducing electronic droning’ but this particular piece is far from accessible, I would even go so far as to say it’s dull and basically sucks. –JAND 

Group Of Individuals
Peace Off!
Underdog Records 

Group of Individuals? I guess they were trying to be funny. I guess they were also trying to be a band. Well, they failed on both accounts. What do they sound like besides shit? Punk meets Queen meets Sting, or something like that, I don’t know. An awful little mix of slop, but if you’re interested in their sound you can have my copy of the CD. I’ll even pay you to take it off my hands. Otherwise it’s going to be a frisbee or a beer coaster. All I know is that it’s not going back into my CD player. It even came with a sticker. What the fuck am I going to do with that? And one more thing, why do record labels believe in including the really long bio-sheets for bands that just suck? If I really don’t want to listen to them, then why do I want to read about them? Peace Off!? No, this band can just fuck off! –JAND 

Her Fault
Heritage
Bittersweet Records 

A little better than the Green Day effort, but if you’re looking for a good punk revivalist band keep looking. This is drab and boring. Erik Stenerson, the front man, is quoted as saying, ‘A lot of guys have bands, and spend their time drinking and drugging. But I’m a total workaholic, and have no time for that stuff’ Well, maybe he should get drunk and then do the music thing, it could only help his poor excuse for a band. –JAND 

In From The Storm
The Music Of Jimi Hendrix
RCA/Victor Records

I swear I went into this record having an open mind. I mean how bad could Bootsey Collins, Stanley Clarke, or Steve Vai mess up a guitar record? By going into the studio that’s how. I had at least a smidgen of respect for Stanley Clarke before I heard this record. I knew Steve Vai could play guitar. So what happened? I have no idea except for that maybe these guys are just too in love with themselves to pay attention to what they are doing. This record sounds like Jimi Hendrix muzac. I’m no big fan of Hendrix but I do acknowledge some of his work as being of high quality. This record goes to show even if you have the music sheet in front of you and have listened to the record a thousand times you’re probably gonna fuck the shit up. –Sausage King 

Black Market Flowers
Thicket
Boys Life Records 

Agggh! These boys have been doing lousy records since I started in college radio, about six years ago. At least back then they were making tapes I could record over. Now I’ve got a crappy beer coaster and a jewel box for my broken cases. There is no way in hell that Black Market Flowers could make music if they were chained to their instruments and made to practice for ten years before being allowed to perform. Am I being a little hard on these guys? Not as hard as this piece of crap they are calling a dick and shoving up my ass. –Sausage King 

Schtum
Grow
Work Records 

I’ve been waiting so long for a new band that excites my taint spot (the spot that taints my balls and taints my ass). Guess I will have to keep waiting cause these boys can’t make themselves grow, much less me hard. This is just another mediocre attempt at putting out something to put out something, I am tired of this kind of crap. I have just seen too many good bands not get anywhere while people like this get major distribution and backing. Don’t get me wrong, in a perfect world anybody could put out anything and you could pick out a band by its merits. But until then we get crappy bands getting the push and good bands washing out cause they can’t get any help. –Sausage King 

Bad Religion
All Ages
Epitaph 

Another comp record from the new kinds of recycled garbage. A band who hasn’t written a new song since ‘85 should have hung up their walking shoes in about ‘90. I mean they have got a good thing going with their label, I know that Epitaph can’t put out a good record, the kind of quality you know to expect. And of course this record stands up to that mark of quality (crap). It’s Bad Religion if you think they are an energetic good punk band you’ve got a brain tumor. If you skipped this review cause you know they suck then you’ve got taste. –Jumpin’ Jehosifat 

Gaunt
Yeah Me Too!

Supernova
Ages Three And Up
Amphetamine Reptile 

After last month’s Unsane release I thought AmRep could do no wrong. With people like Unsane, Boss Hog, and Hammerhead on the label, not to mention the comp of “Dope Guns” and “Fucking in the Streets,” I expect nothing but good aggressive music. What do I get? Supernova is a bunch of idiots who are actually already part of Atlantic Records. Talking about how they will one day go back to outer space. If only they had been in the Challenger accident we might have already been rid of them. They had a song on the clerk’s soundtrack called Chewbacca which when I saw the movie struck me as pretty funny. Now it just strikes me as juvenile. This band blows. 

Gaunt on the other hand has no extraterrestrial notions in their head, they suck on a completely old level. Just another band trying to make a name for themselves by totally ripping off the Buzzcocks, they should really sue Green Day. Nothing exciting at all, hear nothing that will make you sit up and take notice. –Sausage King 

Universal Stomp
Full Swing
Overture Records/Warzone
Cause For Alarm
Victory Records 

Remember the days of slashing tires and beating people up for wearing Docs? When Hardcore was king and hair was non-existent? No, you were eight. However, Universal Stomp does, and though their production is a little too glossy and tinny this band does a good job of trying to recreate that feeling. It’s a good first full length outing for a band and the highest compliment I could give them is probably that this record is ten times better than the Warzone record. Which should by all accounts kick the USA’s ass since Warzone was part of that whole scene. 

Warzone made a great record about six years ago, but for the life of me I can’t remember what it was…some ‘ourselves’ I think. I lost that album when my mom went on an ‘all you do is listen to devil music’ kick. This record is much better than their previous metal attempt in which they thanked Skid Row. Now maybe I just wouldn’t like that other record as much as I did when I was running around scaring Mall Punks, but this new record just kind of attempts something they don’t have the vigor for. The name even is a rip off of what was once but is no more cool Agnostic Front’s ‘cause for alarm’ Now that is a great record still. If you are looking to listen to the real thing, pick up Warzone. If you want something a little more energetic and true to a new form, pick up Universal Stomp. If you like hardcore pickup both. –Jumpin’ Jehosifat 

Remember Alice?
Topless Records

Jane’s Addiction demo’s sums up this record nicely, I think. It is not bad stuff it doesn’t really have an edge but it does float along nicely. There is nothing fundamentally wrong with them either. I would like to see what they do given time, they could be another Mercury Rev, if they are lucky. For something a little different and a little bit familiar this is not a bad little disc, good luck finding it. –Sausage King 

Read more from the SLUG archives here:
Joan Armatrading
Poe!