Locals Only

Is the Salt Lake Underground all about the Sun Masons, the Disco Drippers, Cork and Fat Paw or is there more to it all than Chola? SLUG Magazine takes a look at a few recent local releases.

Atomic Deluxe
Stories from the New West
Cool Cat Productions

Salt Lake City’s only honky tonk band comes back with the follow-up to 1996’s Swing Time Shoot ‘Em Up in 1998. The common “industry” practice is to place sophomore releases under a microscope and criticize them heavily. A band’s membership spends their entire lives developing songs for the first album and then a year or so after they must produce a second. Since the members of Atomic Deluxe spent their entire lives preparing for the current line-up Stories from the New West can almost be considered a debut. “Wish You Well” opens the CD with the first broken heart song. Alcohol and broken hearts are all over the album. “Too Much Drinkin’” appeared on Swing Time Shoot ‘Em Up. I never thought the band could top the first version. The new recording adds both Dan Salini’s fiddle and his steel guitar. Barrooms loneliness and another drunken night — it’s all there without the stereotypes associated with country music. The band covers Flatt & Scruggs (“Doin’ My Time”) and George Jones (“You’re Still On My Mind”). Paul Kreutz demonstrates the maturity of his songwriting skills with “Pass That Bottle,” “EIghteen Wheels,” “10 Shades Of Blue” and “The Desert Is Crying” — the songs are all over the musical style map and for a man known for his roadhouse blues guitar they are a surprise. THe best demonstration of this musical growth is “Another Day.” It’s a “Jones/Kruetz” composition and Kruetz plays the guitar solos as if he’d studied with Charlie Christian. He actually studied with Al Casey, who played with Fats Waller in the ‘40s. Salini checked in solo on the fiddle and Lara Jones is in a mellow, swinging mood. “Another Day” is Atomic Deluxe doing gypsy jazz. The album is filled with good songs. Two more are highly impressive. Both are by “Jones/Kruetz.” “Sometimes” is an unashamed tearjerker. A Bible, a baby and a single woman are the characters, Salani leads with his fiddle and Jay Wetmore makes the drums actually weep. “Beggin’ For Love” is pure honky tonk accented by Jones’ vocals, Kruetz’s guitar and Salani’s steel. One more. Kruetz’ penned “The Desert Is Crying” has Jones yodeling in the background even as she sings harmony with Kruetz! Who knew such a band was around Salt Lake City? Stories from the New West are excellent.

Yer Highness
Self-Titled

Yer Highness is the punk rock trio fronted by Aldine Strychnine. The disc is the band’s first recording and the music is of the basic old school punk variety, except Aldine is something of a local guitar legend. The Misfits used a grand total of five different chords to create their entire body of work. Strychnine knows a few more than five. He proves his prowess on more than one occasion. “Real World” has a solo, “Lie, Cheat and Steal” has about 15 seconds of pure heavy metal posturing, but brevity is an issue. He can play them, but he’s not about to take over the CD with guitar solos. Aldine also sings. His gruff vocals are nearly as well known as his guitar skills, at least to the local residents who frequent downtown clubs. Both skills are becoming better known around the country because Yer Highness is a touring group. The centerpiece of the album, and I’m guessing a topic that shaped many of the other songs is “Addiction.” “Addiction takes hold of you/There’s no escape/So get a clue.” It’s the “punkest” song of the CD and the words to “Real World,” “Lie, Cheat and Steal,” “STP,” “#9 Wouldn’t Rhyme” and “Rearrange” all appear to reflect back on the topic of addiction. The disc isn’t all punk rock. “Why Not?” is a fusion jazz composition and fusion doesn’t mean “contemporary instrumental.” If not for Strychnine’s vocals #9 “Wouldn’t Rhyme” would fit someplace between the Allman Brothers and Big Brother and the Holding Company with Strychnine taking the role of Janis.

Yer Highness’s first release mixes heavy metal, jazz, punk, roadhouse blues and even “hippie” together. The Crocodile Lounge is the local “hot” nightspot. Their gumbo is always “hot” and just like Yer Highness the gumbo changes ingredients daily. Yer Highness changes ingredients with every song and each live performance.

Britton
Unleashed
M2 Records

Don’t start laughing. What happens to all the metal kids when they grow up? The second release (or is that reissue?) from Britton deserves completely objectionable review and it holds the answer. Michael Britton himself is pictured in his most “sensitive” pose inside the CD “booklet.” Britton had enough sense to not include the “rockers prayer” again and it appears that he’s pulled some previously unreleased material together, mixed it and added some new songs. Britton isn’t about to reveal what is new and what is old because it’s all “new” to him and it’s still 1987. This man is a “genius” in the lyric department. Here’s the opening verse, “I’ve got this worthless feeling in the pit of my soul/ When we first started out it was worth more than gold/ Now I’m back with a vision from the gates of metal hell/ there’s a referee demon and he’s ringing the bell.” Can anyone say Manowar? Nice try, but not even close. Demons, money, greed, metal… It is readily apparent that Britton couldn’t find Robert Johnson’s crossroads. And what’s up with the drums? Is that a machine? Names such as Triumph, Bon Jovi and Winger enter the brain, but wait. It’s 1998. “Love to the fire / The keeper of the flame.” What? “I’m a little twisted but that’s okay.” Introspection? Confession? “If you don’t want to walk this way beware of heavy metal and what you’re told.” Self revelation? What is the man going on about? The most enjoyable aspects of 1987/1997’s Rock Harder were Britton’s screams. He can’t scream anymore. He might still be easy to use, but he ain’t gonna scream at the end. Rock Harder was good for a laugh all the way through. Unleashed lacks energy and it lacks the “first of love.” But Britton has had it rough. He’s as white trash as they come, he’s been through hell, he came within a Nirvana of reaching stardom and he still believes in keeping the metal flame burning. Rock Harder bro, it’s all about karma and yours is lacking. Before departing the “sensitive,” “tragic” world inhabited by Britton I’ll quote a few more lyrical snatches. “Demons in my head.” Call a psychiatrist. “Turn the page” was a Bob Seger lyric. “She’s my everything, perfect from head to toe/ She’s my Trailer park queen and I’m proud to be her junk yard Romeo’ Couldn’t you hire a drummer? The metal kids grow up to live in trailer parks? Here’s what the trailer park romance becomes one song later. “You’re a B.I.T.C.H. / Stop controlling my mind.” From trailer park queen to B.I.T.C.H and isn’t that the way of metal? Look at Tommy Lee. The final song is filler. It’s Britton pretending to be Journey and Kansas all at the same time. Hey Britton, it’s 1998.

Crimson Blue
Modern Love

Crimson Blue was voted “Best Modern Band” in 1997 by Private Eye readers.Modern Love is their first CD. Lydia Pense, Tracy Nelson, The Bangles, The Go Gos and Danielle Dax. A producer isn’t listed, but Scott Bailey was the engi­neer and Nyk Fry did the master­ing. I’m not sure how they man­aged to capture the “ambiance” of the Fillmore East in 1968 and I’m sure they didn’t try. The light show, the cloud of weed smoke, the girls swirling, naked except for a thin cotton dress and one of those girls is Stevie Nicks. “Thunder crashing in my soul / The piper is calling to me to follow him / Take me away, away / Drums are playing in my head/Leading me to the fog.” The vocalist is Julia Ferguson. Heidi Hatton is nearly the rest of the band.She sings back-up vocals, plays guitar or bass, flute and she contributes strings. Gary Baldwin plays bass or guitar, depending on what Hatton’s playing and Todd Huntington is the drummer. Hatton is another guitarist with plenty of Pat Metheny listening experience, but for the first time in my life I’ve encountered the style used effec­tively in a “rock” setting. Crimson Blue is a puzzle. Modem Love is an album of contemporary, commer­cial, psychedelic music tailor made for the same audience that purchased Fleetwood Mac‘s pathetic fund raiser. Celine Dion, Mariah Carey, Paula Cole, Loreena McKennitt, Sarah Mclachlan, Natalie Merchant and Lisa Loeb‘s fan-base should also find the disc of interest. At the same time the music has enough of an edge to attract Ani DiFranco‘s hippie fans and the final piece of the Crimson Blue puzzle is the last song. Elise West, known for creating numbingly torpid solo piano pieces, sings back-up and plays piano on “She’s Not Here” and it works. The album’s best song is ”The Piper. “It’s too long for a “Adult Contemporary” or “Mainstream Rock” radio, but it’s as close to late 70s Fleetwood Mac as the ’90s can stand. Commercial pop music doesn’t necessarily have to be bad, give Crimson Blue credit for creating good.

Swamp Donkeys
Diablo Beach
Liquid Beach

The wait is finally over. Tapes of a forthcoming Swamp Donkeys album have circulated around town for nearly two years. It’s out now. The Swamp Donkeys are Jason (guitars), Brigham (bass) and Brad (drums). The CD is split into a “surf side” and a “sonic side.” Brad Barker receives credit for the “demon riding a wave” cover artwork. Britton should inves­tigate the Swamp Donkeys and dis­cover actual, living, breathing satan­ic music.The first song is “Viva Satanico.” It is a surf instrumental. So is “4:20,” “Ghost In the Mirror,” “Dashboard Burrito,” “Phenobarbital,” “Devil Dressed In White,” “Beelzebub’s A Peepin,” ”Planet Satan” and “Demon Stampeded. “In my opinion the most impressive song on the “surf side” is “Dashboard Burrito.” Jason has the reverb cranked all the way up, he is a technically perfect surf guitarist, he’s demonstrated his technique and his pedals all over the world, but he’s a little more. Snatches of metal guitar break on through to the other side and the tune lays the combined metal/surf influences of the band on the sand. The best example of Brad and Brigham’s work is “Beelzebub’s A Peepin.” Jason sits back a little and allows the rhythm section to show their chops. “Planet Satan” is psy­chedelic surf, Jason pulls out all his tricky peddles and makes his guitar sound like a burping, bubbling synthesizer. Next up is the galloping tribute to Duane Eddy‘s ”Rebel Rouser” and Link Wray‘s ”Rumble.” The Swamp Donkeys titled it “Demon Stampede.” The well known highlight of any Swamp Donkeys live performance is “I Am the Devil. “Here’s the metal. Morbid Angel meets Cannibal Corpse and it’s “peace, love, Satan!” “18,000 Voltz” is a lounge-jazz-punk rock riot — the Swamp Donkeys as the Friends Of Dean Martinez strapped to an elec­tric chair in a Ramones frenzy. “Jesus Freaks,” “Fist Full Of Pagan,” “Pissed” and “Tuesday Night” are all punk as fuck. The hidden track is a take-off on “Folsom Prison Blues” that is as good as Duckie Boys hillbilly-punk­ honky-tonk. Aldine Strychnine should book the Swamp Donkeys for one of his Zephyr Club punk rock showcases. The reader should go buy Diablo Beach.

Sea Of Jones
Icewater and Flyswatters

Icewater and Flyswatters was mostly recorded in Seattle. Gianni Skolnick, who also mastered the Swamp Donkeys CD, mastered this one with Jon Armstrong. Sea Of Jones doesn’t fit the Salt Lake City map. The first song, ”Half-Step Religion,” fea­tures Patrick Munson and his bouzouki. Who around here plays bouzouki, except maybe Leraine Hortzmanshoff? “Trespassing” has Munson blowing harps and Gary Turner guesting on lap steel. The presence of the two instruments brings thoughts of “alternative country” and Sea Of Jones could fit the roster of Portland, Oregon’s Cavity Search label. ”Human Entropy” illustrates another aspect. Roger Thom is bashing away on his drum set and the vocals are as nasal and whining as any indie rocker could ever hope for. Send a demo to Merge. ”Melanie” can’t escape the country. Pure Prairie League, Flying Burrito Brothers, The Band, the Ozark Mountain Daredevils and probably the best example nearly everyone has forgotten — the Beau Brummels. “33 1/3” offers further enlight­enment on Sea Of Jones. For this tune the band goes all the way back to folk­ rock — Lovin’ Spoonful any­one one with vocal harmonies? And Munson pulls out the harp to prove the point. “Sin Titulo” is the best damn song I’ve heard since the Old 97’s “Streets Of Where I’m From.” Six songs and it’s over. There isn’t anything like Sea Of Jones, or for that matter any of the other bands just reviewed, in Salt Lake City.

Each is original (Well, except for Britton.) and each deserves some consumer attention – even Britton. Watch for the names at local clubs and go see all of them including Britton if he can ever manage to get a band together. Britton live would be a sight! —Jr. Punk

Cokleo
Cojer
Necesita Sound Production

I was a bit skeptical when I received the Cokleo disc, Cojer (pronounced Coo-hair). Well, now that I’ve listened to the disc a few times, they will probably end up being my favorite local band. I really dig the song Duzie. Hard edge rock and roll. Punk? Wall of Noise? Hardcore? Alternative? Underground? Above ground? Call it what you want, it still comes down to one thing. Eye opening, ears popping, in your face music. Do you and your ears a favor, go buy this disc. Three guys with short names, Seb, Bird, Zak totally kicked it out. I wonder if they can keep my short attention span alive? Well, that’s my job here at SLUG. We shall see. Until then, shell out those clams for the disc and stay tuned.

Dan Hansen
poe’s and mrs. chiggle wiggle’s petting zoo

Dan Hansen writes and plays this ambient jazz mood music. I really like this disc and I like his music. I can’t believe I’m reviewing it in SLUG. It’s not loud and abrasive, it’s something to decompress too. It’s something to listen to when you have a few friends over. It’s something to lis­ten to as the hour grows late and the darkness falls. I would classify it as night music. I could do with­out the silly title of the CD, (proba­bly an inside joke, as always, I’m on the outside looking in.) And I could do without the vacation photos of Canyon Country, or Moab, or whatever. (I’ve got enough of my own, and I don’t even look at those.) Call me when you want some real photos, Dan. —RDJ

Read more from the archives: 
Kinesphere
Written in Blood: June 1997

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