Record Reviews: February 1996

Tori Amos
Boys for Pele
Atlantic 

What is with this girl? You are perhaps expecting Boys For Pele to be slagged off simply because Tori Amos had some involvement with SLUG whipping-boy Reznor. The covers of the CD single and the full project are sure to become the objects of college-level investigations into symbolism. What is the significance of the stain on the mattress, why the barnyard animals, why the gun and ripped clothes? Most important: why is Amos holding a piglet on her lap and why is it sucking on her tit? This is what a religious upbringing will do to you.

Never mind the visuals. The girl is known for her sensuality. The voice is sensual if she desires it so. The piano is hardly rock ‘n’ roll. “Blood Roses” has a harpsichord. “Father Lucifer” features a Bosendorfer and trumpet with Amos singing around herself. “Professional Widow” is a bizarre piece. Sexual ecstasy is somehow involved based on the pants and moans closing the tune. “Prism perfect / honey / bring it close to your lips / yes / what is termed a landslide of principle / proportion boy it better be big boy.” She straddles the bench of her piano once again for “Marianne.” A full orchestra joins in. The single is “Caught A Little Sneeze.” “Yes I am the anchorman, dining with the son of Sam.” That lyric comes from “Way Down.” “Standing on the corner of Winslow, Arizona and I’m not sure if I’m in the right song.” Is it a girl thing

Last year about this time another CD came out that was nearly as weird as this. PJ Harvey made many a top 10 list for ’95. I’ll predict that Tori Amos has released a similar record early in ’96. I’ll spend the next six months poring over the lyric sheet and gazing at the pictures. It will take that long to figure this redhead out. The word is that she will appear on one local stage or another, sometime in the spring. Boys For Pele is a beautiful recording. “Boys so hard, boys so hard, but I know a girl twice as hard.” So do I, she’s my bodyguard. —Herbert

 

Combine
The History of American Rock and Roll
Caroline Records

The Mr. T Experience
Love is Dead
Lookout! Records

Have you been beating your head against a wall to the wrong music? Have you been a heartbroken lush screaming to a silent room? You are in great need of these two albums. Start with The Mr. T Experience and all those pent-up feelings about the girl who took off with the reggae lovin’ hippie you hate will scream out in perfect unison to this CD. Oh, don’t forget to start pounding really cheap beer. Combine is about crappy beer, heavy riffs and soft, sweet posh-punk lyrics perfect for your redneck Billy Beer buzz! These Virginia boys lay it on thick like leftover swill in the bottom of a Milwaukee’s Best can.

Love is Dead is chock-full of three-chord songs and five or six syllable words. Mature, love-lorn punk without the bullshit. Combine’s The History of American Rock and Roll takes looser antics, Pabst Blue Ribbon and good ol’ Southern boy beach party ethics and rolls out a fine, heavy, rock ‘n’ roll album (Check out Mr. T Experience March 2 at DV8). —Elaine Benice

 

The Queers
A Day Late and a Dollar Short
Lookout! Records

These guys are really funny. Not the kind of humor I like anymore but the kind that as a 13-year-old I would have loved. This record is mostly reissues so if you’re a Queers fan you could probably save your money. If you’re into Suicidal Tendencies now and like The Misfits brand of camp as well as a healthy does of late-eighties punk, here you go. —Sausage King

 

Tim Elder
Fashionably Angry
Sublime Carnage

It should be noted that this CD was totally independently produced. Sublime Carnage is a label with one CD and this is the one. Mr. Elder plays every instrument apart from drums supplied by The Cheap Machine. Paid for the whole thing, is promoting himself, etc. Here’s the catch. It’s cheesy as all hell. Kind of sad. I feel like I know the guy. He’s that eternally optimistic fella that goes to every one of your concerts, has nothing but raves for you, never says a bad thing about anyone, can’t ever seem to get his own band off the ground but works at it like no one else. He finally skimps and saves to record his own disc and then, exuberant as a kid at Christmas, lays it on you for feedback. What are you going to say? It all sounds like demo tape quality, which is fine. But for the feeling that if he could have afforded it, it would be heavy metal. He claims it’s punk. He can sing alright. He can play alright. His lyrics get him into trouble. Also his bio is reminiscent of someone trying to get me into bed. He’s clever, he’s cute, he’s cheeky. He and I wouldn’t get along. You’re not going to find it around so if you don’t want to listen to the Captain. $8.00 to Sublime Carnage, P.O. Box 80684, Minneapolis, MN, 55408. He says if you send a couple of extra stamps he’ll send you a bunch of weird shit. —Capt. America

 

The Wedding Present
Mini
Cooking Vinyl

Unfortunately, this band hasn’t enjoyed as much success in the U.S. like they have in England. Wedding Present matched Elvis’ record for the most Top 30 hits consecutively for 12 months. It’s in the Guinness Book of Records. Really!

Their sound is a simple, a loose beat and a jangly guitar, that occasionally builds during a chorus or two. Their music won’t surprise you but their lyrics and vocals will melt you. Most of their albums have had obvious themes; Hit Parade’s half-covers of great indie rock hits. Mini is about cars and women. Treat yourself to this whisper of fast cars and love coming and going in the back seat. —Elaine Benice 

 

Supple
Puppets’ Night Out
Futurist

First off, let me say that I was very impressed by the sound quality of this record. Recorded on just eight tracks in a bedroom, it has a wonderfully big sound. These guys can write good songs too. They come off in the vein of Miracle Legion, which is a thumbs up in my book … I highly recommend this record to people who used to like Soul Asylum before the Gravediggers Union. —Sausage King

 

Nine Below Zero
Ice Station Zebro
PANGÆA

The guy who wrote the bio for this band should be gutted. He definitely works against them. I could devote an entire psycho corner to why the Mormon Tabernacle Choir should fill his mouth with their collective piss. But it might leave a bad impression of the band. I say Don Henley has a great voice but wastes it on his own material. This singer Dennis Greaves sounds like a rougher Henley singing quality material. I derailed through lack of focus. Nine Below Zero is sharp. I like Sting. PANGÆA is his label. This is R&B pop played to the hilt all the way through. If they play this way live I would be dancing completely drunk out of my gourd having fun. Since I can’t see them live I will instead drink and dance to them here in the apartment. Two low points: The name of the album sucks, the song “21st Century R & B” is dumb. Strange song at the end called “Little Russel Street” sounds like The Beatles. —Capt. America

 

Cibo Matto
Viva! La Woman
Warner Bros. Records

Miho Hatori and Yuka Honda, two Manhattan girls that share a passion for food and music and they express it through a unique appreciation for the sampler. Apple, beef jerky, know your chicken … dreamy pop songs with sophisticated and bitter irony. Catchy and absolutely absurd. The name Cibo Matto comes from Italian for crazy food and sex madness. Mmmm… is good! —Elaine Benice

 

Mojack
Merchandising Murder
SST Records

Yet another Greg Ginn record. But before you think this is just another attempt a Black Flag punk you should realize it’s not. It’s ambient and danceable and plots along at its own pace. Sit back, relax, read a book, or call your mom. If you’re not careful you might find yourself really enjoying this record. —Sausage King

 

Ted Hawkins
Songs from Venice Beach
Evidence

The talent the late Ted Hawkins possessed is something so rare, so beautiful, it’s amazing to think he spent most of his life being a wanderer, sidewalk musician and prison inmate. It was only in 1994 when Geffen Records released his remarkable album The Next Hundred Years, that anything more than a handful of devoted admirers paid any attention whatsoever. Influenced by everything from the soul of Motown and Stax records to the great blues legends, Hawkins’ music was simple, yet his pristine voice and fluid guitar stylings set him apart. Songs From Venice Beach is culled from recordings he did 10 years ago that were never released stateside, and features mainly old soul covers. His voice is nothing short of angelic, not perfect and oozing with the kind of spirit absent in today’s “soul” music. When he sings “I got what I wanted, but I lost everything I had,” you really do feel the longing. This is remarkable stuff, and it would be tragic to overlook it. —BMac

 

Lee Feldman
Living It All Wrong
Mercury

How this CD got into the hands of SLUG I couldn’t venture a guess. First of all, with the press kit came a handwritten note from the producer or someone named Naomi. Second, it’s piano pop music. It never gets as hard as Tori Amos even. It’s simply piano pop like Randy Newman. It’s not going to be the musical style of choice for 19 out of 20 people who read SLUG. But for the 20th, whoever you are, it’s a very simple and elegant album. The playing is impeccable, the singing is eerie and heartfelt. The lyrics are always romantic without being drippy. A razor line to walk. A very welcome change from the usual fare. Nary a guitar is heard. I never would have bought this album. I wouldn’t have ever known it existed. But it’s absolutely worth shelling out the bucks for. It should be noted that this guy lives and writes in New York City, a place antithetical to the creation of anything simple and elegant. All the more kudos to Mr. Feldman. —Capt. America

 

Sven Gali
Inwire
RCA Records

I actually had to listen to this record a few times to decide if I liked it or not. Something about them just doesn’t ring true about this band. True, it could be the Candlebox cameos, for the singles I guess. But, no, I think it’s that I was looking hard for someone to compare this band to for a point of reference. They aren’t bad, they aren’t good, they just are… ambiguous, that is. —Sausage King

 

 

Mojave 3
Ask Me Tomorrow
4AD
The Spinanes
Strand
Sub Pop

Listening to these could put a crystal meth junky to sleep. Mojave 3 could be the Cowboy Junkies on junk. They have the same lap-steel sparseness and smoky vocals. The male vocals would be a welcome change but his vocals are so far above the music it only sounds good through studio effects. Cowboy Junkies, Mazzy Star and Codeine is really truly all we need of this music. Unless of course a band can put a new spin on it. The Spinanes’ second album really shows why they were every music magazines’ sweetheart in early 1994. Rebecca Gates pierces with good songwriting and alluring vocals. A little heavy and less sparse than their debut. There are a few songs better left off the album, a welcome relief to Mojave 3. —Elaine Benice

 

Smoke
Another Reason To Fast
Long Play Records

Everyone else who reviewed this album in this press kit made favorable references to Tom Waits. This is presumably why SLUG sent it to me for review. Now it wouldn’t be band form for a Christian to say, “You out to meet my friend Benjamin, he’s a great guy. He reminds me a lot of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” For the same reason I will make no such reference to Mr. Waits myself. Nonetheless, this is the best new album I’ve heard this year. Now although it’s currently 1 a.m. on January 2, 1996, and I therefore sound like a smartass, I will also say that anyone who attempts to remove this CD from my player is in danger of losing a hand. Everything about this CD is cool. From the funky, bluesy, punky, relatively difficult to describe, throw-everything-instrument-in sound to the homosexual, drag queen, gravelly voiced, lead singer Benjamin. The lyric, “Some like it nine days old, me I like it in the pot,” itself is worth the price of admission. And they’re all that good. It’s very fucking good. Every time I listen to it, it gets better. It’s weird, it’s smart, it’s a rare moment in music. This is how good it is. It came with a little card that says how to order other stuff on Long Play Records. And I’m actually going to send the fucker in and get the rest of the stuff these guys have done. For information, a CD called Heaven On A Popsicle Stick and the lead singer Opal Foxx Quartet. In fact, it is so good here’s the address: P.O. Box 55233, Atlanta GA 30308. It’s your patriotic duty to get this album. Tell them the Captain sent you and maybe the bastards will send me something for free. —Capt. America

 

Boss Hog
Boss Hog
DGC

I’m working the Geffen connection hard these days. The label continually puts out music that draws my interest. How Boss Hog ended up with them is a story for a glossy rag. The attraction is the beauty doing the singing. Jon Spencer’s presence is secondary. You have your Poison Ivy fronting The Cramps, you have your Mary Huff fronting Southern Culture on the Skids and you have your Cristina Martinez fronting Boss Hog. And you think beautiful women can’t rock? Grit and grime, grease and slime, noise and blues. What else would come from New York City?

Just in case you think I’ve been smoking too many of those Turkish Tobacco cigarettes, have a listen to “I Dig You” and tell me it isn’t an out-take from S.C.O.T.S. session. I’m thinking Skunk Anansie sat in when “White Sand” was recorded. Martinez is rapping out her shit while the band gets into that funky heavy groove. The CD is not as trashy or as raunchy as some of their previous works. They do add a little twist to things. The only cover is “I Idolize You,” an Ike Turner song? I don’t know. I’m a simpleton writing for SLUG. Give me 20 of these for every thousand Beatles anthologies. —Peter Bestor

 

State of Grace
Hello E.P.
3rd Stone / RCA

When I was younger I suppose I expected music to either excite or intrigue me. It wasn’t until I was introduced to the Cocteau Twins that I realized that there is also a quieter side to it all. Sitting down to read a book, or maybe writing a paper I found myself throwing a Curve or Medicine into the mix. State of Grace would also fit into the arena. It is not invading or distracting, just quiet pretty girl vocals on dreamy lullaby music. There are only five songs on the EP (three of which are different versions of the title track), but worth getting if the aforementioned bands are among your collection. —JAND

 

Dog’s Eye View
Happy Nowhere
Columbia Records

Counting Crows, Crowded House, even (did I reveal myself), Hootie & The Blowfish, it’s all silly, folk guitar based pop music. Whether you like one more than another boils down to personal taste. The circumstances under which you first heard the music, etc. How I like Katrina And The Waves “Walking On Sunshine” for no reason other than one sunny afternoon in the attic of the Devereaux House. I wouldn’t ever try and make you listen to the song, it wouldn’t make sense. These types of songs don’t tend to mean a whole hell of a lot. They’re rarely emotionally deep. They are often meaningless fun. Each of these bands have their moments. I tend to like Crowded House and not think as much of Counting Crows. I tend not to like Hootie & The Blowfish, although it’s not a crusade for me as it seems to be for many. I reserve that level of dislike for Green Day. The reason for this could be as simple as when I graduated high school. The reason I go on and on should be obvious. Dog’s Eye View is a fine band. They’re well produced and they know how to play. They write fine songs. The only thing missing is a point. Look for them to hit the charts at number two. Soon to be a sold out concert at the Delta Center. —Capt. America

 

Godspine
Bitter 13
Self-Released

Local boyz Godspine. Godspine has teeth. Godspine will shred the hell out of you if you just happen to glance away. Five angry men that would rather sing and play than go to a therapist. The songs vary from very fast to haughty and slower with a bit of edginess in them, just enough to give the songs a slow, creeping feeling. Very good production. Well crafted songs. My faves, “Rhino,” “Break the Day,” “Backstab” and Chris Sessions’ bass-heavy “Charcoal.” If you like Tool you better check out Godspine, a band in our own backyard that is every bit as good as anything on the national circuit. —RDJ

 

 

 

Cibo Matto
Viva! La Woman
Warner Bros. Records

The other day I encountered a “gentleman” who desired interactive CDs of the entire Low Rider series. Looking deeply into his eyes I deciphered his purpose. He didn’t want to see a bunch of “old school” groups talking about their music, nor did he want live performances of his favorite songs. What he wanted was a half-naked female, like those pictured on the CD covers, dancing on his computer screen. Well sir, porno is available for all to download on the Internet. Which brings me to Cibo Matto. There is one of those “old school” girls on the cover. She’s a drawing, not a photo and her shape is that of a female bodybuilder. 

The music defies categorization. As is becoming more and more frequent, due to the constant theft of my name for use as a tool for free music. I don’t have “press” materials. Mitchell Froom produced the disc. Samples from Ennio Morricone are prevalent. Bernie Worrell checks in on the organ and I’m thinking “modern music.” The group is multi-ethnic. Close your eyes and enter the world of Cibo Matto. The disc is for audio hypnosis. Certain tunes will turn up to thrill homosexual dancehall patrons on the cutting edge. Zoned-out Mormon housewives would love it — if they ever encountered it. Anti-depressant, Prozac, Valium and Xanax users are invited to sample the disc. For the rest of us it is a nice way to “chill” after fighting the snarl of freeways crowded by “new” Utahns in search of a “safe” haven for their “upscale” lifestyles. —Riley

 

Pretty Mary Sunshine
Bird Medicine
Ricochet Records

This band has been together for three years and have been described as the meeting of Syd Barrett and Mazzy Star (even references to The Flaming Lips and The Velvet Underground have been unfortunately uttered). The album is their first full-length venture (their first seven-inch “Can I Stay” was released in ‘94), and is characterized by guitars drifting between melody and dissonance with vocalist/songwriter Patrice Tullai giving clear but unstrained banter. Not really a truly impressive work nor is that all bad. I would only feel comfortable with saying “recommended only to those who got off on the Mazzy Star somberness.” —JAND

 

Dead Man Walking (Music From And Inspired By The Motion Picture)
Columbia

From Dusk Till Dawn (Music From The Motion Picture)
Epic Soundtrax / Los Hooligans

Soundtrack albums are a big deal here in Salt Lake City. I’m not sure if the rest of the country follows the “trend,” but I think Mortal Kombat and Dangerous Minds pushed sufficient “units” to make the charts last year. Anyway, these are two of the latest from Sony. Both of them seem to take direct aim at the more sophisticated “boomer” target market. Bruce Springsteen, Johnny Cash, Lyle Lovett, ZZ Top, Stevie Ray Vaughan, The Blasters, The Mavericks and Tom Waits are hardly names youngsters will search out in the stores.

Eddie Vedder makes an appearance on Dead Man Walking proving without a doubt that he has reached the statues of a Peter Gabriel, Bono or Sting. All major rock stars must branch out when they have the fame and fortune to do so. Eddie has gone world beat — don’t they all? It was reported that he was at the Sundance Film Festival in Park City, bumming lights for his cigarettes on the street. Now that’s a star!

Springsteen released a second volume of songs that will do nothing to advance his career. “The River” was the best thing he did anyway. “Dead Man Walkin’” continues in the same vein. Johnny Cash is peaking for about the 30th time in his long career. “In Your Mind” is gospel — a country spiritual. The CD is rolling right along by now. Suzanne Vega? Does she still have a recording contract? She’s joined up with Mitchel Froom and Jerry Marotta at present and who knows what is next? I sat through Lyle Lovett in a hall of yuppies last year. I passed on the “mountain” experience. Lyle Lovett is so weird and so talented that no one can categorize him. He knocked one out for the movie that has me wishing more than ever for a fall from grace and a corresponding club tour. Tom Waits isn’t sleeping in the gutters anymore. I doubt that he drinks a drop. The guy still has the voice. He checks in with two tunes that fit right in with the rest of the disc. The theme is spare and minimal. Most songs are acoustic and the entire disc is closer to a folk record than some kind of rockin’ deal. Michelle Shocked, the one you would think is most in tune with her folk side actually gives up some excellent, amplified blues. I can deal with Johnny Cash doing gospel, but Tom Waits, Steve Earle and Patti Smith? Well, the movie features a nun. Dead Man Walking is an excellent, if laid back, soundtrack album that won’t sell squat. Is Patti Smith back? “Walkin Blind” is the second of two songs she’s released lately. Does she have an album of material this good forthcoming?

Strangely enough, we segue from the soundtrack album about the trials of a nun and a death row inmate to what is reportedly the bloodiest, most sexual vampire movie to ever be released. Quentin Tarantino is a sick man. His soundtrack works just fine if dialogue segments are removed. How the thing escaped a parental advisory sticker is beyond me. I’ll only do one piece of dialogue. Buy the album or see the movie for the rest.

The Blasters open with “Dark Night.” One of the largest questions looming in the current reissue mania of major record labels is the lack of the complete Blasters catalogue. Come on, that greatest hits package doesn’t touch what the band recorded. “Foolish Heart” slays the latest Mavericks CD. If there is a hit on the album this is it. Kick ass honky-tonk that combines Freddy Fender / Marty Robbins with a backing chorus of three or four Lara Jones. Astounding! The two ZZ Top tunes show the band might have some life left in them after all. It seems that they’ve spent some time in local Texas dives and re-discovered where they came from. Tarantino must have been with the ZZ Top crew because the piece from John Wayne is lo-fi drunken shit that would be more at home on a compilation out of DC or Chicago. Now for the soundbite. “Richy, would you do me a favor and eat my pussy for me?” “Sure.” Tarantino is a sick fuck but follow that dialogue with Jimmie Vaughan playing some slow, pussy licking — ”Dengue Woman Blues” — for the second highlight of the CD. The disc continues with more blues and obscene dialogue. Buy the soundtrack and turn down the sound on the video when it is released. —Junior “Walker” Brown

 

Neros Rome
Togetherly
Horsehead Meguire Records

They are labeled into that truly horrible segment called “psychedelic alternative rock.” If they can live beyond the unfortunate badge of dishonor they might impress you. There is quite definitely a resemblance to The Smashing Pumpkins and Soundgarden (whether intended or not), but the vocals are more accessible to a “kinder, more gentle” audience. “Crossroads Music Magazine” would try to have us believe that the band is more akin to Zeppelin and Pink Floyd, but Neros Rome is undoubtedly grounded into the ’90s scene. I will give them a quite favorable review, and hope their past success in their home of Portland (#8 in CD for ’94 and an appearance at the ’93 New Music Seminar) doesn’t end there. —JAND

 

 

 

16 Horsepower
16 Horsepower
A&M Records

What’s the hippest cutting-edge music right now, you ask? Well, blowing in from the dusty plains, I would have to say 16 Horsepower. They totally defy all description and comparison… yea, they are that original. These guys hail from the “Rocky Mountain High” state of Colorado, Denver, to be exact. David Eugene Edwards plays a 1930 Orpheum Guitar, an antique banjo and a turn-of-the-century bandoneon. Keven Soll plays stand-up flat top bass, and the very French Jean-Yves Tola plays drums. Three guys that have successfully mixed rock ‘n’ roll with bluegrass, a hint of country and a-whole-lotta Americana. Edwards sings in his distant wail that is usually reserved for lonely cowpokes. By the time you read this, their full-length should be out. Watch for a review and if we are real lucky, maybe even an interview. And by the way, grab your favorite partner and check out “Shametown.” This song will bring a smile to your face and make your feet happy! —RDJ

 

Edsel
Techniques Of Speed Hypnosis
Relativity

An interview with Edsel was supposed to be in this issue. Due to some kind of mix-up, blamed mostly on Relativity’s dropping rock ‘n’ roll from their business plan, the interview was not completed. The publicist was left without a job, the band was left without a label and my insane work schedule interfered as well. Rather than report in a negative manner on the band, I’ll review their CD. It was possibly reviewed in the past, but it is destined for unavailability. Pick one up now or forever hold your peace.

Their press kit reveals the Wire influence. That must mean they sound like Elastica or Menswear. They will soon be loved by the entire Brit-Pack mob. Things run a little deeper than post-punk and Wire. There’s that entire “Chapel Hill thing” and the Pavement and Sebadoh references featured prominently in the reviews accompanying the CD. There is also a discography. Edsel is a prolific bunch. And then there are Gang of Four, Mission of Burma and The Jam influences to contend with. I’m sitting here listening to the CD after witnessing enough local music to last me for at least a week or two and wondering why there isn’t a band in this odd little town that has captured the “slacker” pop mentality. You would think that as fucked up as life is here at least one band could mimic the style and use their religious upbringing, their sexual guilt and their job as a Domino’s delivery driver to come up with something noisy and cool. All I see is funk, pseudo-Seattle, Big Country / Alarm / U2 eighties rip-offs, “punk” and a few sick bastards making impressive noise that is ignored. Seldom do I find the ability to combine noise with lyrics, hooks and “pop” music. One song ends and they leave some space for contemplation before the next begins. The few seconds are spent wondering what little area Edsel will take the mind to next. Screwed up tempos, noisy, soft, soft, noisy, rockin’ all the way with guitar patterns to spend hours trying to figure out. Spend a few more trying to figure out the lyrics and you are there. Nirvana heaven. Bands like Edsel play to the converted waiting for the one break out that will bring cash to their pockets. If somehow it doesn’t happen, be sure to collect all the vinyl and aluminum you can lay your hands on because down the road their influence will ride to the surface of a scum-filled pond. Critics’ darlings attempting to hold out long enough for their payoff. Good CD from Edsel. I’m wishing them luck in the future and hoping to get that interview down the road. Nice theft from EC’s “Pump It Up” to open “No. 5 Recitative,” and you thought they weren’t a “pop” group? —Henry Ford

 

Dog And Pony Show
Ashtrays and Afterlife Money …
Epiphany

Somewhere between Dinosaur Jr. and Superchunk. Not bad, oh well, something tells me they’re going to be a big hit. —JAND

 

Golden Smog
Down By The Old Mainstream
Rykodisc

Ryko’s promo machine hyped this disc up months before it was released. Due to the hype all the stores were overstocked. The band has former members of Uncle Tupelo and the Jayhawks present. Current members of Wilco and Son Volt are also supposedly part of the recording group. Due to “contracts,” real names are unavailable.

The CD is waiting for “hippie” discovery. Here is the perfect “hippie” disc and the fools are too pot-addled to run out and buy a copy. They’re stuck with Dick’s Picks or something. After a nine-hour session with those, I’m proud to say that I prefer Golden Smog. Hippie rock and country rock. None of that easy listening California Eagles shit has rubbed off on these boys. Leave that to the Nashville group. I’m thinking International Submarine Band all the way through. Fucking hippies. If Neil Young, Gram Parsons, The Flying Burrito Bros and the New Riders Of The Purple Sage, not to mention Buffalo Springfield and The Byrds are like god-like to 20-somethings wanna be hippies, bald men, gray-haired women and spinning girls in peasant dresses… what the fuck is the problem? The best tunes are contained on the single “Red Wife” and “He’s A Dick” — that would be God or whoever put together the Dead’s latest. —Gene Klark

 

Heroine
Virtual Morality
Masquerade Recordings

I can’t believe I pulled myself away from Dragnet to listen to this shit. Some fucking return to glam metal. It’s some awful twisting of old Mötley Cruüe and a blatant rip-off of Black Sabbath. High school morons could get a better lick, so could a two dollar whore. Unless you really just want to buy an expensive beer coaster, forget this one… I pray to God that I will be able to. —JAND

 

Long John Hunter
Border Town Legend
Alligator Records

There’s a ton of blues CD’s that deserve some reporting on. Since the SLCBS bit the dust, the info on the latest and greatest on the blues scene has pretty much been without any local reporting. Do you expect record reviews of the blues any place else? This guy caught my ear immediately. His history includes about 13 years playing in Mexico. From there it was on to Texas and a few tours of Europe. His first record was released on Duke Records in 1954. He’s been working ever since, but for some reason he remained largely undiscovered.

While the press release calls him the next best thing to come out of Texas since Albert Collins or Gatemouth Brown, I’ll dispose of the comparisons. Blues guitarists and guitarists in general fill the landscape. Seldom does one come along who understands the meaning of the note. It isn’t how many notes you play, it’s what that one note means. Long John Hunter doesn’t do fills. He is completely self-taught and virtually uninfluenced. There aren’t a lot of blues bands passing through Juarez.

The style is obviously Texas. The one thing that catches the ear is the swing. The guy swings all over the disc and like I said, there isn’t an unnecessary note to be heard anyplace. The best electric blues I’ve heard from an alligator in months. —Moonshine Willie In A Mason Jar

 

The Murder Junkies
Feed My Sleaze
Alive Records

I’m not sure if I should even bother trying to sum up the credentials of this band, but here it goes: Charlie Manson would even find the evil mutha fuckas a bit odd. Listen to their song titles: “Stiff Cold Fuck,” “Messiah of Hate,” “Waking Up In A Pool Of Piss,” and that all-time most fucking original (heavy on sarcasm), “Jism On The Cross.” Mike Denied has that trite “singing 30 octaves too low” ploy on top of a band who can only Motörhead rip-offs. Come on, do I need to say more? —JAND

 

Mojave 3
Ask Me Tomorrow
4AD 

The opening song sends chills up and down my spine for ages. I swear “Love Songs On The Radio” is the most perfect song I’ve heard in this young year. The advance came in ’95 and I fell in love with the song then. Now that everyone can purchase a copy it is time to promote once again. The song and the entire album are for the manic depressive population. One day the adrenaline is flowing and the next you can’t get out of bed. Mojave 3 is for the downtime. What if you ingested not one but six Xanax and chased them with Jagermeister. What if you could still purchase a handful of “rainbows” (Tuinal) on the street corner? The pace is pedestrian. While “Love Songs On The Radio” strikes a deep chord with me, the average “slacker” is looking for something much harder and Seattle-oriented. As someone recently told me and as the “industry,” “trade” and “news” magazines have informed me, bands are developed and tossed off in a six-month time frame. Artist development doesn’t exhaust currently.

How many people reading remember that one classic release from the Young Marble Giants? How many have found the CD version in a local store? I’m ranking Mojave 3 right up there with YMG. A perfect minimalist recording that has every chance of escaping detection for four or five years. About the time the Olympics visit Salt Lake City someone will come out with a combination of Pavement / Sebadoh / Sonic Youth / Edsel / Superchunk / YMG and Mojave 3. The next thing you know all of them will be as famous as The Velvet Underground. —Sausage King

 

Texas Is The Reason
Texas Is The Reason
Revelation Records

This band gets a thumbs up right off the bat from me for naming themselves after a Misfits line. And though I’m not crazy about the vocals, the “musica” has some bright spots. If you like Fugazi and Jawbox you’ll like this CD. Check ou the Quicksand-esque beginning to “Dressing Cold.” —Sausage King

 

Ruby
Salt Peter
Creation Records

Remember way back when Skunk Anansie came to town? A small crowd viewed the show even as Alanis Morrisette had her hand in her pocket (with a hole and her finger where?) as she watched 1000 Mona Lisas cover her hit song at The Zephyr. Now all you fucking metal heads want to see Skin. Here’s another one you had better catch at the beginning. Ruby has a past and some shit backing her. The same public relations firm in charge of handling Trent “whipping boy” Reznor and his cohorts Marilyn Manson sent me a packet on Ruby.

Fronting the band is none other than Lesley Rankine. She is far more beautiful than Heather Nova and Alanis put together. Everyone remembers her from the “platinum” sellers her former band Silverfish put out. She is also nastier than Nova and Morrisette. What that means is that when Ruby comes to town she will be surrounded by bodyguards due to all the perverts Salt Lake City holds in its sweaty, stinking, repressed, constipated bowels. No one will get to meet her. Skin was a different story because of her “blackness” and her bisexuality. An obvious threat to white male potency factor. Ruby mixes up styles. Techno, rock, industrial, dance and the whole she-bang. Kind of like that Poe girl. Rankin is harder than Poe – go back to those Silverfish releases for a reference. Helpfully, some lyrics are included so the theme of the disc is revealed for all to see. The title pretty much gives it away though, doesn’t it? “Tiny Meat.” “I can’t help myself / I try, and then I crack it split to see inside / I run because I can’t abide this tiny meat in my hand / And the pound, pound, pound of your bleeding heart / Hand hold heart / Girl bleeding / I crack it split to see inside.” What the fuck? Tiny meat, fists, girls bleeding? Listen to “Swallow Baby.” I’m sure they’ll play a local club in the spring. —Port Side Her Rockwell

 

Farside
Farside
Revelation Records

I wanted this record to be good. I loved the Sears portrait studio cover. It’s a classic. The music on the other strictly SoCal cheese rock. The only interesting thing here is the fact that the vocals are flat and mediocre, rather than nasally and bad. Like your mom giving me head with her dentures in… this record just isn’t right. —Sausage King

 

The Amps
Pacer
4AD / Elektra

A song titled “Tipp City” with a chorus of “You got me goin’?” She’s goin’ just fine but does she come? I’m getting really, really tired of all you so-called alternative assholes purchasing the past while you dismiss the present. “Where is your alternative section?” “What are you looking for?” “Green Day.” That is punk rock you “trendy.” So far the “lo-fi” indie rock section is not present in modern day record stores. The Amps aren’t lo-fi, nor are they indie rock, but they certainly sound like it.

“Mom’s Drunk.” Well for fucking Christs sakes. Dad left her to raise eight kids and she’s working at the only jobs available to Utah women — secretaries, receptionists, waitresses. How do they expect her to cope? Take the latest anti-depressant? Oh, it isn’t a local band? Local bands still think the Seattle sound is cool. Ever been to Olympia?

Kim Deal sounds like Joan Jett at the age of 16 or so from the time the laser hits the first pit of “Pacer” all the way through to the close of “Dedicated.” The guitars alternate between fuzzed and chiming. Why do you think they get the lo-fi mention? In case 4AD seems like a strange place for a rock disc you only need to listen to “Bragging Party.” Another good CD that’s been missing attention at the retail level. I’m wondering why I’m loving all this major label shit early in the year. Tomorrow I’m shoveling three feet of snow off the sidewalk and maybe the mailman will deliver the latest batch from some independent labels. Nothing like shoveling with plenty of amps. —Billy

 

V-3
Photograph Burns
American Recordings

Where did I scam this baby from? It sure as hell didn’t come in the mail. Some kind of advance from the Onion arm of Rick Rubin’s American Recordings. As they say on the opener, “Wipe that stupid smile from your American face.” It must be one of those post-punk, new wave of new wave bands. They aren’t bitter at all. Nor are they jaded. They are the greatest band in the world! Just ask Oasis, Menswear and Blur. I’m guessing they never learned to play their instruments very well.

“Brain tissue fuming / old movies tuning in her head.” The band has filthy mouths. The title song is better than any so-called punk rock emanating from the American shores. Have they been listening to Live at CBGB’s again? Fucking cool disc overall. Just think Ruby. Ruby is breaking big every place except Salt Lake City. Maybe they’ll tour with V-3 and three or four local residents will see them. Raw folk music is combined with old time New York City punk rock. Call it the east coast style from England. That’s a guess. It could be a Boston band influenced by the Sex Pistols and Cleveland’s The Dead Boys. Far too good for mass acceptance. Watch for the release sometime in February. —Musual

 

Xavier
The X Factor
Interscope

The Bucketheads
All In The Mind
Big Beat Records

The poor bastards at Interscope have dealt with major censorship at the hands of the U.S. Congress. I begged for a copy of Tha Dogg Pound, the releases that killed their association with Time Warner, but it was not forthcoming. Instead they sent Xavier. I guess if I was down with the “new jack” the recording would blow my wad. Since I’m not, I’ll mention the name, Xavier, and say that if I liked Bobby Brown, Whitney, Jodeci and R&B, it might hold my short attention span. Interestingly enough they are singing about swallowing; a topic I’ve already addressed elsewhere. “Jack” the CD from my care “homeboy.” The doors are always unlocked.

Since we have entered the realm of “dance” why not include The Bucketheads? The release date was several months ago to be sure. No other local publication is going to review this shit except SLUG. Here indeed is your dance music. Rock my sox off you bucketheads. Groove forever, I’m there with you. Child of the ‘70s that I am, this disco with the deep bass holds my interest more than any other Australian punk band. Chills, The Bats, The Clean… sorry, those labels don’t send stuff anymore.

“Got myself together yeah!” I can visualize the leisure suits now… but what a jam. —Dr. Joyz

Read more from the SLUG archives:
Written In Blood
SnoCore Tour: February 1996