Record Reviews: April 1996

13 Mg.
Trust and Obey
Slipdisc   

Industrial has gone through plenty of changes over the years, from machine dance beats to metal guitar stomps. With bands like NIN & Ministry taking up most of the major sales, what’s to stop a young band from falling in line with them & making some noise? 13 Mg. is a similar band that continues to push industrial to a faster metal fusion. I don’t mind this, since true metal has been dead for some time (no tears here!). Hell, even the lead singer, Howie Beno, started his editing career with Ministry on “Psalm 69.” The difference is that 13 Mg. is more damn raw. The guitars just don’t rip out chords, they tear out the sonic barrier with deafening squeals that are unnerving. Beno takes the voice box one step further & shatters your eardrums with his painful assault that makes you want medication, & quick! I’ve never been a big fan of industrial, but this CD is so hard & fast, I have to crank it till the windows crack. A keeper for fans of Reznor & Jourgensen alike, it still crosses a lot of musical tastes that require the basics—a raw edge & a heavy sound. — BILLY FISH   

24-7 Spyz
6
Enemy Records   

Even after they billed themselves as ‘heavy metal soul,’ I thought I’d give them a chance. That certainly doesn’t mean that you need to. If you think Living Colour sits at the right hand of god, and worship Red Hot Chili Peppers, maybe, then MAYBE you might love this. I, on the other hand, don’t care much for either band, and this therefore is a pale imitation of a pale imitation. They have a few moments when you think: “Oh, maybe they’re about to pull out of this rut and… nope, blew it.” They do this often enough to know that they’re really pretty talented, but not enough to make it worthwhile. It’s sad because they’ll hit a really cool groove for ten seconds and then where they take it shows what my third grade teacher called ‘poor judgment.’ They apparently changed their lineup, maybe they’ll hit a stride on the next album. They really show a lot of promise in a lot of places and then so quickly go 180 degrees. It’s hard to explain the feeling. It’s disappointing. It’s simply that they are too often exactly what they say they are: heavy metal soul. Which is simply a bad idea. On the other hand… I don’t know, I feel guilty dissing it, maybe it’ll grow on me. It’s an uphill battle, but it does have some cool things. — Capt. America   

Synthetic Pleasures
Volume One
Moonshine Music

First, let me start off by saying that I know nothing at all about raving or the music involved with it. When the whole thing was hip it seemed too much like a fashion trend to pay attention to then when I found out that there might be something to some of it I had already disavowed it to the stupid. SO, with that little disclaimer out of the way let me say that the whole record sounds like one really long song and it was a little too close to that crap they call industrial now. You know people who wouldn’t know Einsterzende Neubaten from Big Black. I do however like the way it metamorphosizes and builds throughout the piece. There is a certain growth there that appeals to me as a musician. I don’t know if this is the record to buy if you’re into techno and if you’re not there is probably a better record a friend or record store clerk can suggest to you. Honestly it’s not a bad record and I’d love to see the movie and the CD Rom they are releasing around it. — Sausage King   

Dayglo Abortions
Little Man In The Canoe
God Records   

No, no, please, somebody stop them before they are allowed to do it. This resurgence of punk bands that were cool and now are just old is gonna be the death of everyone… no shit I mean the Sex Pistols reunion, next the Misfits will put out a box set and The Exploited will be back out on tour. I will say this just once: it’s over, it’s fucking dead, you blew it the first time so pull over to the side of the road before somebody gets hurt. The good thing is this record is very funny. The Day-Glos haven’t lost their sense of humor. The music reminds me a little of Gwar as well as Gang Green and that whole scope of humor metal. — Sausage King   

Hog
Nothing’s Sacred
DGC   

Been here. Done that. Who cares? Because you really wanna know what I think about this? Well, here goes: If I hadn’t ever heard pure angst before or if I was just fucking bored with nothing to do but sit around and write reviews I’d listen to this record, otherwise I’d pass it over on the way to the 99 cent record bin. With DGC backing, these guys might go far, but they sound like a ripoff of Rancid (not that I think Rancid is original but at least they’ve got convictions) and they look a little too MTV ready for me to feel comfortable with this album. — Sausage King   

Buzzcocks
French
IRS   

We are about to come face to face with a Sex Pistols reunion (a group that is now trying to get Lady Di as an honorary member.) ‘God save the…uh, well, the ex-princess.’ But out of the older school English punks, it is the Buzzcocks who still have their ‘singles going steady.’ Unlike some of their contemporaries, they haven’t had a twenty-or-so year break from one another. French, unfortunately, is not really a new album, it is a live performance in (as if you couldn’t guess) Paris during April of last year. ‘Di’ hard fans should be pleased to know, however, that an album of new stuff is slated for this April. For all previous fans of this group it is easy to say that French is quite the nice addition to an already impressive collection of Buzzcocks paraphernalia (live editions of “Boredom,” “Noise Annoys,” “Oh Shit,” and of course the incredible “Orgasm Addict.”), but this review is more for the unfamiliar, so all you familiars can buy this and skip to the next review; those new to the Buzzcock sensation heed well: It has been suggested that certain groups (Rancid, Green Day, etc.) have been attempting to recapture the spirit and imagination of earlier punks. Well, it is the Buzzcocks (among a few — (and I mean a few) — choice others) that the voices of today have been trying to emulate. So in the light of “masturbation has lost its fun” get a “Hold” of Orgasm Addict and you will understand that nothing said today hasn’t been repeated at least twice before. Oh, I’m sorry, Buzzcocks actually made masturbation sound kinda fun! Oh well, grab on and have some fun—this is well worth the money, so ‘piss off.’ — JAND   

Chisel
8 a.m. All Day
Gern Blandsten   

You know, there’s been plenty of punk revivalism going around lately (as if you didn’t notice), but one thing bands like Rancid and Green Day and countless others leave out of their bratty rich-kids-aping-the-Sex-Pistols schtick is how to rock. Luckily, a couple of guys out in DC have their history right. With an oh-so-generous nod to The Jam, Chisel has kicked mod-revival Pt. 2 into high gear with 8 a.m. All Day, a smoldering, joyous collection of pop punk. Shunning the tendency to be saddled by its references, the band tears through fourteen tracks that range from the blistering tempos of “Out For Kicks” to the almost spoken word musings of “Looking Down at The Great Wall of China (from Way Up in the Sky),” and aw-shucks examination of love gone bad. There’s even a dark piano interlude thrown in just to mix things up. Without being corny, Chisel frolics through a bunch of head-bobbing, happy songs that sizzle more than they gush. 8 a.m. All Day is a triumphant celebration of everything that was ever good about rock and roll, a simply tremendous achievement. — BMac   

Cows
Whorn
Amphetamine Reptile

I haven’t been listening to the Cows for very long, maybe three years. The only things I can say about them is that they consistently turn out interesting material and their live shows are one of the top ones traveling the good ol’ USA. The opener to this album had me a little worried it sounds like punk revivalist crap, with its anthem style and Misfits recording sense. But this record also consists of just real power and energy, a rarity amongst bands that are rehashing an old scene. Truly the only way to fully experience this band is to see them live, with an air that rivals The Jesus Lizard (no small feat), this band is and this record are both energetic and entertaining. — Sausage King   

O-Matic
Dog Years
Grass Records   

You really have to be loving life when you get a record deal after only playing together a year, and get Kim Deal to help produce your debut album too. Both are the case with this Midwest band out of Dayton, led by guitarist/singer Michelle Bodine (formerly of the indie fave Brainiac). Getting some help from her brother Scott (also on guitar), this band can play with the big boys, throwing down tunes aimed at the white trash of America that are very heavy and very fast. Influences range from The Breeders to Sonic Youth, but really don’t carry over in their sound. They remind me more of a scary cross between Urge Overkill and Royal Trux, combining off-center poppy lyrics with raspy vocals & crunchy riffs. This is the type of band that most major cities have playing in their bar circuit, but just can’t seem to find a notch between the obscure indie roster and the majors requirements of obvious mainstreaming to sell albums. Definitely a CD to play when old high school friends drop by to drink a few cold ones, & whose musical tastes might now have grown much since their butt-rocking days. — BILLY FISH   

Sexadelic Dance Party
Vampyros Lesbos
Motel Records   

I don’t really know how to review this record other than to say it is great and scary at the same time. It is a soundtrack to a movie that I have to see. The music is a bastardization of Carlos Santana meets John Williams meets Danny Elfman meets Tiny Tim. The record is nothing but lounge tunes for seduction (if you lived in the sixties and seventies). It’s something to laugh about, it’s something to contemplate. Get the calendar and the poster, put the record on, let the lava lamp flow, and get groovy, man. Don’t miss out on great songs like “The Lions and The Cucumber.” This record bites like undead gay people (aww, come on man, the title pretty much says any joke better than I could). — Sausage King   

The Wrens
Secaucus
Grass Records   

If the Pixies had a geek fan club that wanted to play music that seemed an indirect copy of early albums like Dolittle and Come On Pilgrim, these guys would be them. Not that the music is bad. It’s not. It just kept me thinking about old Pixies tunes tucked away in the back of my head that I always wanted to cover myself during my college days. Even the vocals are too similar to old Black Francis/Frank Black, which actually is annoying. It’s okay if the music sounds alike, but copying vocal style and sound is just damn stupid. What’s left? Album artwork? The Wrens have been supposedly playing for years, but still haven’t figured out how to make their own sound. That might be pretty hard in this day and age of the never-ending comparison (yes, I’m guilty of that!), but if I wanted a direct copy, why not a dub on a cassette player? Maybe it’s just the bad luck of a sophomore attempt (their debut Silver was released in 1994), but I don’t plan on losing a lot of sleep waiting for a third. Hopefully while touring they can hook up with The Breeders or Frank Black and target a live audience they seem to be making that type of music for. Either way it’s still just new music with an old sound, that’s all. —BILLY FISH 

Silkworm
Firewater
Matador 

It’s been a long road for the guys in Silkworm. After moving to Seattle in 1990, the band has released two of the best albums of the decade (In The West on C/Z and Libertine on El Recordo), yet is still only a cult favorite in its adopted hometown. A shot at fame finally arrived when the band signed with Matador last year. Not everyone survived the ride however, as the band departed with guitarist and songwriter Joel Phelps just as Libertine was ready to come out. The Silkworm sound of old was one of smart, edgy mixture of classic rock, punk with sprinklings of country and the blues. Songwriting and singing chores were divided between Phelps, bassist Tim Midgett, and guitarist Andy Cohen. Each had a distinctive style, and the bleeding of one another’s influences into each song cultivated a complex yet beautiful mixture. Cohen’s dead-on, searing riffs were tempered by Phelps’ more textured, meandering style. It comes as a bit of a shock, then, that Firewater’s major flaws are in excess. In compensating for one less guitar, Andy Cohen solos far more than necessary. Now, make no mistake, he’s certainly proficient enough for such an undertaking, but there comes a point where it merely derails the songs rather than carrying them. And for some unknown reason, despite losing one third of its songwriting core, the band unfathomably comes up with an album five tracks longer than any of its previous. There’s still the delicious hooks (see “Wet Firecracker”) and Midgett’s powerful bass throb guiding the way (see “Tarnished Angel”), but by the second half of the album, everything just starts to run together, with the exception of “Miracle Mile,” Midgett’s solo-acoustic journal of all the bad days on the road. Silkworm still has plenty to offer, unfortunately Firewater just has too much of it. —BMac 

Idaho
Three Sheets To The Wind
Caroline 

The band makes a big deal out of playing four-string guitars. I don’t even know what the hell a four string guitar is, if’n it ain’t a bass. As near as I can tell, it simply precludes those playing them from embarking on any upbeat songs. I used to live in the Knickerbocker apartment building back in the days of college pot, and there was a window overlooking Reservoir Park, and I would set up a chair looking out that window on a snowy Sunday evening, relatively baked, and the streetlight would come on at dusk and the snow would swirl around it as it illuminated the park. It had a melancholy ruminative beauty to it, and the search for perfect ‘winter’ music was always on to fit the moment. This album would have been a welcome addition to the collection. The promo kit says ‘…the upbeat “Catapult,” and the rocking and triumphant “Pomegranate Bleeding.”’ Upbeat and rocking, of course, are in the eye of the beholder, and everything needs to be seen in context. Maybe they’re a tad more upbeat and rocking than the rest of the album, but it’s a pretty goddamn mellow album. It may not be the best time for the album to come out, actually, because many of the songs actually allude to or are about winter itself. Remember that “Love Shack” became a big hit in the summer. Why? Because everyone was in the mood to jump around like idiots. This is not music to jump around like an idiot to. The only drawback is that if you’re not quite in the mood, the lead singer’s dissonant voice can get a little tiring. (As opposed to the dissonant guitar, which is always welcome).  —Capt. America   

Cannibal Corpse
Vile
Metal Blade Records

By now anyone caring knows that Chris Barnes is no longer the vocalist for Cannibal Corpse. What does a band do when the guy doing the singing and writing all the lyrics leaves? In the case of Cannibal Corpse the answer wasn’t break up. Nope, they signed on another guy and expanded the lyric writing to include more people. The basic Cannibal Corpse sound remains in place. Buzzing hornets, bass grind, drum thunder — everyone plays as fast as they possibly can and doesn’t worry about the others. For an unknown reason this band has always reminded me of something coming out of New York on the Knitting Factory label. Not many share that view because the words and the vocalist interfere. I could never understand a damn thing Barnes sang anyway. George “Corpsegrinder” Fisher has the trademark death metal growl, but he is understandable. That isn’t a good thing because the lyrics are not as strong. Come on, “Hammer Smashed Face” is a classic of the genre. Nothing on Vile is especially shocking to me except “Orgasm Through Torture.” Give them a break, this is the first CD they’ve written lyrics for. There is more emphasis on violence as opposed to violent sex. The reputation will remain in place. Many will be offended, but as bassist Alex Webster says, “We’re fiction.” It isn’t real, people, everything comes from the imagination. The band is currently touring in Europe. They will tour America in the summer, but I’m not very expectant of a Salt Lake City date. Vile comes out on May 21. Once again there will be two versions of the cover. Look for the uncensored one. —Borracho   

Suspect Bill
Bill Me Later…
Jump Up! Records   

Our publisher sends me these things to review at work, where I have a big fancy Macintosh complete with CD-Rom drive. I mention this only because the first track on this CD is a CD-Rom video of the band playing “Sing, Sing, Sing” (yes, the Louis Prima song but a little souped up… they also do a Gene Krupa number and a version of “Hava Nagila,” just in time for Passover). It certainly is no masterpiece of interactive technology, in fact it’s only mildly interesting, except that when you bring your CD home and put it in your regular player, forgetting to skip past that first track, it FUCKS YOU UP! A horrible sound like someone cleaned your laser lens with a hammer comes blasting out of your forever damaged speakers. So, needless to say, there’s a damn good reason not to buy the disc at all. However, there are some very compelling reasons TO buy it. One is if you like the lounge music thing going around, the Esquivel/Combustible Edison/Jean-Jacques Perrey thing (of course, for those who have ears let them hear: Perrey makes the rest look like they’re merely schoolkids without clues). It’s being marketed as swing-ska, which sounds less interesting than it is. It’s pretty lounge music with a ska edge, heavy on the horns. Get out the cocktail shakers and whip up some Manhattans and sashay around the apartment. This is like the music you play while you’re getting ready for the party. Very competent musicians who live up to the goal they have set for themselves. The problem with this album is the same with Idaho… I imagine the lead singer sounds great, looks great on stage, but she just doesn’t quite cut it in the studio. It’s a minor and forgivable oversight in a medium emphasis that is not on the words. —Capt. America   

Moonshake
Cranes
C/Z Records

England’s Moonshake, formerly of the illustrious Too Pure label, has switched lineups almost as regularly as they put out albums. After its debut Eva Luna and an EP, Big Good Angel, Margaret Fiedler departed with Guy Fixsen to form Laika, a move that prompted many to write the band off. However, with the help of a few of his friends, including PJ Harvey and former Stereolab keyboardist Katharine Gifford, Dave Callahan kept the fire burning with The Sound Your Eyes Can Follow. Now, having parted ways with Too Pure, Callahan & Co have linked up with Seattle-based C/Z, revived through a deal with Zoo Records. Cranes is a precursor to a full-length set for release later this year. The guests are the same, but the lineup and sound are noticeably different. Complex, off-kilter rhythms have been toned down into standard, lumbering tracks, deadening the aural havoc the group once reeked. A bleeding cacophony of sounds and splashes now just sway blithely with no real direction or fire. In short, it’s boring. —BMac   

Lotion
Nobody’s Cool
SpinART Records   

Power pop stuff, think of pretty much anybody doing the college circuit, SpinART is notorious for putting out this kind of music. You know the type — sloppy, distorted guitars that have just enough of a melody to make your toe tap. A vocal line that neither challenges nor confuses. Why are the drummers for these bands so damn good? (Not original, just good.) Lotion is unique in their ability to the point that I kind of like them unlike most of this crap I get to review. Fuck yeah. Thomas Pynchon wrote the liner notes, so the band must be good if they found that guy. I guarantee that once summer descends and we cook outside with a beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and you’re looking at everything that moves like it’s love, you’ll dig this record. —Sausage King   

Charm Farm
Pervert
P.R.A. Records   

A disco song, some glitter, two songs about drag queens, a sound bite from an Andy Warhol film with a definite Bowie sound. Then they bring on the horns and strings for “Terminal.” Dennis White, the main songwriter, vocalist and multi-instrumentalist of the band appear to have suffered abuse in his childhood. He obviously came from a broken home due to several references to his father leaving. He also suffers from depression if his lyrics are of a personal nature. Girls leave, the world is sick, he’s a superstar when in drag, wow! Call it songwriting as therapy. As stated earlier, the music pays some tribute to glitter rock and Bowie. There are also the (by now) obligatory psychedelic guitars. “Tell Me” brings Lou Reed into play. The hidden track is more psychedelic combined with transmissions from another place. Here’s the press release! The band is from Detroit and they have no problem with the Bowie/Roxy Music comparisons. They also like trip hop. The single is the disco number, “Superstar.” If you don’t hear it on a radio station near you, call and request it. The 70s are back! —Borracho   

Wired Injections
Industrial/Gothic/Electro Wave/Compilation
Cleopatra   

This compilation may or may not be for sale. My copy says for promotion only all over it. The title obviously comes from the opening cut by the Electric Hellfire Club. I need not go into details on their Satanist leanings. On this tune they are more interested in sex. The sex takes place anywhere and anyplace. “Penetrate me,” is the female cry, from the male portion comes, “When the morning comes you’ll find blood on your sheets.” That is pretty damned gross or erotic depending on your perspective. Die Krupps get the next song, an entry from their latest full-length. I guess if they recorded it for a giant record company, “Isolation” would be as familiar as Nine Inch Richards. For a Salt Lake City audience so repressed that they flock by the thousands to any hard show, this sampler would appear heaven (or hell) sent. It doesn’t have Sister Machine Gun, Korn, Cradle of Thorns, or Rage Against the Machine on it. What it does feature are like-minded bands many have yet to discover. There is even a Download track appearing. We all worship at the Skinny Puppy altar. Good shit that no doubt is enclosed in a 3-D cover for mass consumption. —Borracho   

Elliott Murphy
Selling the Gold
Dejadisc   

“Whaddyagonnado?” The classic NYC response to just about everything… surely this guy has had to learn to say it. Judging from his life story, all the critics for 20 years now called him the next Dylan, the next Springsteen, a poet, a genius, all that stuff. Have you heard of him? Thought not. He’s big in Europe (where he lives). So is David Hasselhoff. Whaddyagonnado? The problem is that it sounds like an album that was just released by Tom Petty, or Dylan, or Springsteen or Clapton. If you were already a fan, it’s all going to have a special poignancy and interest. On the flip side, surely The Ghost Of Tom Joad didn’t win Springsteen legions upon legions of new fans: it simply cheered the hearts of fans. Or won them back, or whatever. Point is, it’s fine music. But it’s not going to start a revolution. Indies might want to hop on and say he’s a classic, he’s the great unrecognized genius, blah, blah, it’s fine stuff. Clapton’s From The Cradle was I’m sure a fine album. I didn’t listen to it. My greatest hits and my Blind Faith album gives me all the Clapton I need. Plus Slowhand maybe. Point is, I have nothing but respect for the man, but I don’t listen to him on a regular basis. This guy, without a history behind him… he’s alright if you thought George Harrison’s latest album, independent of other reasons, was just fantastic. Couldn’t get enough of the Traveling Wilburys? Presenting Elliott Murphy. Cutting edge music for your ex-hippie father to listen to. —Capt. America   

Courtney Pine
Modern Day Jazz Stories
Antilles

Now we are really getting somewhere. Here is a well respected jazz saxophone man stepping out to blow to a hip hop beat. He is joined by a number of others on the session. Most notable is Cassandra Wilson, one of the hottest voices in jazz at present. Add Mark Whitfield (guitar), Geri Allen (acoustic piano, Hammond B-3 organ), Charnett Moffett (double bass), Ronnie Burrage (drums), Eddie Henderson (trumpet), and DJ Pogo (turntables) for a glimpse into the jazz present. They call it acid jazz, the music contained on Modern Day Jazz Stories has more to do with improvisation than dance mixes. “Dah Blessing” has Pine off blowing in the stratosphere while Moffett plucks out the bottom and Burrage engages in an exploration of his kit. There is barely a trace of turntable scratch present. Near the close, the turntable gains more presence and Pine engages in lyrical notes before bringing things to a not-unexpected halt. “In The Garden Of Eden (Thinking Inside Of You)” is a beautiful piece. This is where the funk comes in. The rhythm section gets a slow groove going that is head waggingly good and there is that Pine fellow waxing lyrical once again with the scratches perfectly timed to coincide. The title pretty much describes it all. “Creation Stepper” is straight ahead improvisation. This is the tune where Allen shows what he is capable of on the piano. I’m not sure of the market. Those looking for a typical Courtney Pine disc will find pieces much to their liking. Other more adventuresome individuals can find pleasure in the pieces featuring the groove and turntable experiments. Those with closed minds will discover that the disc isn’t sugary enough to qualify as bedtime music. Maybe it is time to venture into the jazz section of the store to discover what is “hipper” than “hippie.” —Borracho   

William Orbit
Best of Strange Cargos
I.R.S. Records  

Orbit’s main claim to fame lies more in the production field, working with artists like Madonna, Peter Gabriel and Prince, among many others. Under a few different signatures, he has also created Sa healthy crop of instrumental dance music, three albums of which are represented here. Strange Cargos fits into the ambient dub category of techno music, featuring a steady breakbeat, a variety of samples, and one or two basic keyboard tracks. While Strange Cargo III was a well-constructed, interesting ambient record, a lot of the earlier stuff sounds like Wang Chung — really cheesy guitars and annoying mid-eighties cliches. Having all the stuff back to back on a compilation really exposes the weaknesses of the material, leading to one conclusion. No one needs a “Best of” after only three albums, especially when most of them weren’t very good. —BMac   

Fu Manchu
In Search Of…
Mammoth Records   

The title immediately throws us back to the ‘70s classic Nimoy program. Whether or not we are looking for the Loch Ness monster, the secret of the money pit, or maybe… just maybe good music, it is Fu Manchu that has brought us here into the syndicated re-runs of our past youth boredom. Two muscle cars are about to erupt past the blonde in the bell bottoms waving a starting hanky. The race is on. As Fu Manchu careens on through the dust and burning tire rubber in a 12 song drone, past hopefuls watch from the side. Monster Magnet, Soundgarden, and even the failed Bowie project Tin Machine are here at the glorious ‘70s retro race. They are making and maybe even anticipating what a pit crew heavy in Black Sabbath will have as a final showing when the dust settles and the twisted metal is removed from the track. With all of Fu Manchu’s ability, however, the team lacks the appeal, the impact, or drive, if you will, to ever come into sight of the checkered flag. In time they will turn in the car to be sold as scrap metal and retire next to Thee Hypnotics and Zodiac Mindwarp and the Love Reaction. —JAND

Coyote Shivers
Coyote Shivers
Mutiny Records   

Another advance cassette and another comparison to Lou Reed. Also in the news is the appearance of a Shivers song on the Empire Records soundtrack. Be prepared for SLUG to slag off another band. Too bad a press release came with the cassette. Reading through it I found that this Shivers fellow produced the work of Shadowy Men On A Shadowy Planet. Far be it from me to disrespect anyone involved with them and I don’t care about their fame from Kids in the Hall. Shivers is reported to be a frontman of extraordinary looks and talent. For a change there is a clarity to the sound from the cassette. I hear the Lou Reed in the vocals, but that is where the comparisons end. The big boss told me that I write too many words so here is the summation: Coyote Shivers comes off sounding like something recorded during the heyday of early New York City punk.  That would take us back to around 1975 or 1976. The end of a decade always ushers in some musical changes. I read in the Tribune where Eric Burdon compared the current situation to the likes of Pat Boone and Fabian. I tend to agree with his comments except for one thing: Garage bands can still find an outlet for their music. At least Coyote Shivers copies the beginnings of the “new wave/euro-disco/alternative” thing that simply will not stop. Enough already. New York punk is held dear to my heart. Probably more so than the West Coast scene that has taken America by storm of late. —Exit O  

Die Krupps
Odyssey Of The Mind III
Cleopatra

It’s interesting to watch the evolution of this magazine. The name remains the same, but today the pages are filled with major labels and out-of-town writers. You can buy SLUG for a buck in any major metropolis. Independent labels remain my favorites. Not because I think that major labels suck and don’t put out any good music, independents simply release better music. Take for instance Cleopatra. Now, Cleopatra has released some complete trash in the past, but the label has also released a ton of on-the-edge music. That is the subject tonight. Goth, industrial, punk rock… take a look at their catalog. They’ll send you one for free. This Die Krupps is an advance and it was accompanied by a fanzine that stretched to nearly the length of this rag. Die Krupps were one of the early pioneers on the industrial music scene. I know that all the Ministry and NIN children aren’t down at the mall plunking down the dollars their parents gave them to buy Die Krupps because the mall doesn’t stock Die Krupps. Of course the mall doesn’t stock Einstürzende Neubaten or Can CDs either. If you look in the right places, you might find the metal machine music your idols have shamelessly plagiarized. All of your favorite DJs will be playing a cut or two off Odyssey Of The Mind III at industrial night. The band has lost nothing over the years. —Borracho   

The Folk Implosion
Electric Idiot EP
Ubik  

Intent on capitalizing on the success of their hit single, Lou Barlow and John Davis have a fairly recent EP in stores now. I’m still laughing about the day the record label people were telling me all about how great the Kids soundtrack was. For some reason Lou Barlow was an unfamiliar name. To them, the Folk Implosion came from the great corporate bowels of their employer. The songs aren’t new. Some were recorded in ‘95 and others in ‘94. They’ve all been released on records in the past. The music was made at John’s house and recorded on a 4-track cassette. It has been remixed. Many think that this entire lo-fi thing is a bunch of crap. I love the abrasive qualities, the fucked up rhythms, the noise of the guitars and the entire aspect of people sitting around in bedrooms recording music for mass consumption. If jug bands, avant-garde, noise and lack of a concise dance beat are not attractive don’t buy the disc. Otherwise head down to the shops and pick up some experimental music from a couple of boys who have more hits inside of themselves for the masses. They only have to channel the energy in a more accessible direction.   —Borracho

Fun Lovin’ Criminals
Come Find Yourself
EMI

Last month I mentioned my friend from CEMA. He passed me a copy of 2 Minutes Hate much to my listening pleasure. This month he gave me something even better. In the past I’ve raved about discs by G-Love and Lil’ Axe. Both bands took the blues as a basis for their music and expanded on it. The Fun Lovin’ Criminals do a similar thing. “The Fun Lovin’ Criminals” begins with the prettiest country-blues guitar anyone could ever desire before the beats start happening. Throughout the song, that acoustic country blues repeats. They are a hip hop group from Brooklyn. We aren’t supposed to discuss rap or hip hop in these pages, but what do I care. I’m a fun lovin’ criminal. Along with the blues these boys include heavy metal guitar, funk, and jazz. It’s kind of a hip hop dream. A couple of years back we had experimental hip hop going on. Basehead, Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy and such were pretty much dismissed as the gangstas sold platinum. Spearhead, Arrested Development and Guru expanded the limits further with, except for the first Arrested disc, few sales. The Beastie Boys made some inroads with their punk rock roots. I could go on with the names, but the whole thing brings us to the present and the Criminals. There is rap and there is hip hop and there is gangtas aplenty. What matters is the rhymes and the beats. Take a Tricky, a Lil’ Axe, a G-Love, a Basehead, and a Guru. Throw in the white, Jewish and Hispanic influences of the Beasties, Cypress Hill and lowest of the low, Third Base. What you come up with is some mighty fine trippin’ music, courtesy of the Fun Lovin’ Criminals. Better buy it now because the live “Smoke On The Water” guitar theft could pull this CD right off the market for remixing. It doesn’t get much better than this. Pothead hip hop all the way. Check out the total and complete gritted teeth posturing of the guitar solo ending “I Can’t Get With That.” Thank you so much Bruce. Let’s see what he comes up with next. “Lotti dotti, free John Gotti.” Next month watch for a new Basehead. —Sid “Bare-it” Owsley

Grotus
Hand To Mouth
London   

Three remixes of the same tune lamenting the state of the nation. Possibilities are getting mighty slim indeed. There’s the Bongload Mix, the Big Bottom Mix and the Bongload Instrumental. It all begins with a scratchy country blues riff before the hip hop beat begins. Hip hop has a future after all. If you don’t care for Grotus check out the Fun Lovin’ Criminals. I can stand about as much of this kind of music as the record labels will send. —Borracho   

Snomen
In Orbit
Double Play   

I keep listening to this record, trying to figure out what these guys’ deal is. Their music is too crafty to be poppy, yet too catchy to be ignored. SOunding alternately like a more funked-out version of Beat Happening and like a bedroom 4-track experiment, Snomen spreads its collective wares all over the place. “Crash And Burn” is built around an absolutely creepy piano line, while “Undertow” is a simple, understated guitar-only number. “Market Song” is a groove-laden instrumental that would make the Folk Implosion proud. This ability to be fluid yet arbitrary makes In Orbit a mysteriously intelligent, frighteningly beautiful album. —BMac   

Johnny Thunders
Have Faith
Mutiny Records   

“Purists might note that Have Faith—while remixed and remsatered from inferior overseas releases—is definitely one of the best documents of Thunders in a live setting.” A reissue of Live At Max’s Kansas City was reviewed in SLUG just one or two issues ago. This is not the same recording. Have Faith documents Thunders live in Japan in 1988. A list of Thunders cohorts is absent from both the tape and the press release. I’m not a big enough fan to know who he was playing with in ‘88. It could be almost anyone. The CD version has a release date of April 23 to coincide with the fifth anniversary of Thunder’s death. My copy is an advance cassette. Nothing is inferior to an advance cassette. The tape opens with a raunchy version of “Pipeline,” it is so distortion-filled that it approaches white noise. It only gets better. All of the favorites are included. “Personality Crisis,” “Chinese Rocks,” “Born To Lose,” “Too Much Junkie Business,” and “Can’t Put Your Arms Around A Memory.” “Can’t Put Your Arm Around A Memory” is acoustic and it is preceded by a cover of the Stones “Play With Fire” which is also acoustic. Next up is an acoustic cover of Dylan’s “Joey” and I’m thinking the tape is very similar to Bootlegging the Bootleggers, a 1990 release. It could be that some of the same tapes were used for Have Faith. I’d have to agree with Mr. Pink (a rare occurrance) and his review of Live At Max’s Kansas City ‘79. That is the one to buy. In case the garage sound is appealing Have Faith is more of the same captured a decade later. The jury is still out on the remixing/remastering success. It is impossible to draw conclusions from an advance cassette. I’m thinking the promoter of the upcoming Bluffstock Festival should look into featuring a New York Dolls tribute band. After all the motto seems to be “If they’re dead, they’re there.”  —Square Deal

Jolly Mon
Nobody Knows Who You Are
Elemental

The CD was produced by Grammy-Nominated Drew Canulette (Nirvana, Soundgarden, Neil Young). Greg Eklund (Everclear) was the drummer on their first CD> The band reclaims the territory Pink Floyd forfeited after Syd Barrett left—or anything pre-Wall. The jams are psychedelic, they are short and they are heavy. “Green On The Ground,” “The Pilot,” and “It’s My Name” are about as psychedelic as anyone following trails, watching the walls breathe or seeing the music leave the speakers coudl ever desire. The tunes are also hard, harsh, and filled with metal. Nobody Knows Who You Are certainly doesn’t invent a new musical genre. The best bands combine elements from two or more pasts and come up with fresh. That is what Jolly Mon does. Carey Rich (vocals/bass) has this to say about Jolly Mon live, “When I go to a show, I want to leave with the feeling that I got my money’s worth. With Jolly Mon, I try to create the most intense musical experience that can be seen or heard. If I don’t get my money’s worth out of my own band, how can I expect others to pay for it?” They will be at the Cinema Bar on April 10 and they will open for Boogie Shoes at the Zephyr on April 11. —Borracho

Kiss The Clown
Rotten Records

Not another Southern California punk band. Place the disc on the platter and prepare for more of the same. Kiss The Clown had me on their side by the time “Spin” finished. “Sunflower Patch” is the best song on the disc. They do all the expected things — high speed, melodic guitar; quick bass and drum fills, throw in some ska and some Ramones — just when it seems like there can’t be another exciting punk rock band on the planet along comes Kiss The Clown. The disc is their first and it comes from a tiny label. That is too bad because the music is commercial. The songs all tell stories. The stories concern the usual subjects and some are sad while others are happy. They all end on a positive note. Kiss The Clown lives in the same world as all the other punk rock bands, but the sun shines through their music at all times. They chase away depression each time the disc is played. They’ll be at the Cinema Bar on April 30. Show up to hear the lyrics of “Sunflower Patch” and see if the band doesn’t tell a story in a song. —Borracho

Ron Levy’s Wild Kingdom
Zim Zam Zoom, Acid Blues on B3
Bullseye Blues 

Here for your reading enjoyment are a few words on two more CDs you won’t find at the mall. Both are completely instrumental. For some reason, these two masters of their craft have decided not to include a vocalist. The first comes from Ron Levy, a man who played in Salt Lake City unannounced to a few and a man who is all over countless recordings, both as a producer and a keyboard dude. He takes the Booker T & the MG’s sound into the present with a disc of astounding beauty that would go over better at your next gathering of “intelligent” folks than some of that brain cell killing “new jazz.” The title states that the music is acid blues. The blues guys are progressing forward/backward to jazz. Gianni, the “rich” guy who owns this paper, says keep it short so I will. A master of the B-3 gathered a bunch of friends together and recorded an album of heavy trippin’ R&B. Ronnie Earl, a guitarist with fire in his veins, decided to chill out for a few years. He also gathered a few friends together to bring jazz to his blues. I’ve seen them both on stages at local clubs. When talking smooth these cats have it down far more than the local “smooth jazz” label. Both of them are well into middle age. All the 20-somethings and teenagers have already dismissed the music but it is hip, here and now. Either Ron Levy or Ronnie Earl might appear completely unannounced around town this summer. I’ve been reading lately about this resurgence of instrumental music. The Mermen are booked at the Zephyr in April! Try talking over that! While waiting for the psychedelic surf, how about a trip into the world of psychedelic blues firmly rooted in improvisational jazz? Both CDs are available at finer record stores everywhere. —Borracho   

Limblifter
Mercury Records   

I’m sick of la, la, la. Limblifter opens their CD with the la, la, la. I’ll forgive them. We are after all living in the La, La Kingdom of Utah. Limblifter is doing exactly the same thing that every band around is doing. The alternative rock thing. It is getting tiring to listen to more of the same, same, same. Does the CD have any redeeming qualities? Yes indeed it does. It has noise. Noise rules my life far more than la, la, la, and Limblifter has conveniently provided some of it on their disc. “Do I feel involved?” At first I said no but then I realized that Limblifter captures the experience of falling in love. All rock and roll music has human sexuality as its very basis. Why do you think they tried to ban it in the beginning? Limblifter does the la, la, of the happy morning after, they do the uh, huh, uh, huh, uh, uh, uh Huh! of the actual experience and then lo and behold they they cover the downside — say three or four weeks into the relationship. Just in case you can’t figure this essay out, I guess you’ll need to make a purchase. The CD is available at every shop that advertises in the Private Eye or the Grid.  —Borracho

Martin Rev
See Me Ridin’
ROIR

The boss gave me Martin Rev’s CD a couple of months ago. He doesn’t give me much because I’m so tardy with reviews. Martin Rev is listed as the founder of Suicide on the CD’s cover. I think Alan Vega had something to do with the band as well. Rev was and remains a minimalist keyboard composer. The jacket states that he composed and performed every song on the disc. I don’t think so. The melodies are as familiar as oldies radio. He’s taken some doo-wop tunes, screwed around with the words, added minimal electronics backing his monotone lyrics and thrown the thing out on the market. If “Tell Me Why” isn’t “Why Do Fools Fall In Love” then I’ve been smokin’ the wacky stuff too much. Have some fun with it. Play name that tune. I love the disc. Give the guy credit for creativity in a day and age when The Beatles are passed off as fine upstanding citizens to young children by their burned-out parents. “No you can’t have that Green Day CD. That isn’t music. Listen to these acid-dropping, pot-smoking, heroin-shooting sexual deviates the Beatles.” —Strawberry Fields Forever

The Meices
Dirty Bird
London

Dirty Bird is without question one of the better punk-oriented CDs to cross my path lately. From the very first chords of “Wow,” these boys are out to rock the house. They tear through the 13 songs exactly as if they were doing them live. One song blends into the next, and each is better than the one preceding it. Even “Uncool,” a song sitting in the shade of Meat Puppets country rocks all the way. When looking for an anthem don’t pass over “Wings.” “Wins I loved giving all the feathers back to you.” Chiming guitars, acoustic guitars, what is this REM? Not quite because there’s thunder in Steve Borgerdling’s bass and how Joe Riencke gets so much noise out of one guitar is beyond me. It’s probably a studio thing. Tom Gailbraith obviously has a big kit. Just cause stacks of drums surround a drummer doesn’t mean overuse is required. He’s back there keeping the time until a little added excitement is required. IT appears that Shawn Trudeau has replaced him in the band. Dirty Bird is a perfect recording. I even like the strings on “Monday Mood.” Most definitely not a CD with one or two good songs and 30 minutes of filler. It’s all good. The best news is that the Meices are booked at The Bar & Grill on April 30. This information magically appeared on my answering machine this morning. I’m not selling the ads or making the calendar so you’ll have to look elsewhere for the complete lineup. The Meices appearance is enough to excite me. —Borracho   

Pomegranate
Don Ron
Treat And Release Records   

Pomegranate is the kind of CD that sneaks up slowly and gradually. I’ve put it on three or four times as background music while occupied with another task. By the time the beam strikes “Down Around Her Ankles,” the task is mostly forgotten. The rock is mid-tempo; there are only three people in the band and the instruments of the trio are the customary. The credit for bringing the recording out from a boring stack lies with the vocals. Gavin Canaan is the man with the voice. Okay so the Lou Reed comparison is obvious. So is the minimalist mixed with cacophony Canaan’s rhythm section lays down behind the vice. The bins are filled with music by those inspired by VU. Inspired by and copying deserve two separate sections. “Down Around Her Ankles” is a hit on at least one Southern California radio station. The tune is so catchy I can already hear it competing with Edwin McCain, Hootie or the Gin Blossoms in the very near future. Yes, there is that little touch of the “hippie” involved. What happens when you take the minimalism and mix it with the hated hippie sound? An entirely new genre rises up from the dust. Lou Reed was never much of a “hippie” lover anyway. Listen to the guitar work opening “The Better Part” and tell me they aren’t headed for an extended jam. It never happens because here comes the voice and the beloved stop/start indie rock thing. The overall tone of the CD is one of darkness. Just to copy from the press release I’ll throw in the information that the band’s name is taken from the Greek myth where ingesting a single pomegranate seed sends Persephone to Hades. Watch for this one on a radio station near you. Six months from now I’ll probably hate at least one song due to overexposure. Right now I love Pomegranate. —Borracho   

Psychic TV
Trip Reset
Cleopatra   

My first encounter with Gen P. was many, many a year ago. I’ve reverenced Throbbing Gristle in these pages more than once. He’s still at it. I doubt that Goldmine Magazine could come up with a complete Genesis P. Orridge discography. Can Genesis himself? In the liner notes we have self-proclaimed sex and drugs expert Dan Joy informing us all that listening to Trip Reset is better than either sex or drugs. After reading that information I enlisted headphone aid. Nothing like headphones to bring out the full power of a sexually fulfilling musical experience. For some strange reason my sexual and drug experiences are more intense than this pretty trance music. I don’t hear any pound, pound of that most lovely tiny beat. The last thing coming to mind when listening to “Mother Jack (A Children’s Story)” is sex or drugs. It’s more like sitting in the library listening to the librarian read aloud. I guess when you’ve experienced as many drugs and had as many sexual encounters as Dan Joy it all becomes as mundane as children’s story hour. That is not to say that the disc is wholly without value. I’ll take it over the Blue Knights, Kenny G, that Gunn fellow pretending to be in the Grand Canyon or Chip “C.W. McCall” Davis any day. It is aptly named. If I were into taking trips with what are passed off as hallucinogenics in ’96 I’d want the disc with me. At least for the early morning mellowing out. For the “new age” reader. After ingesting six or more buttons and vomiting, get naked (I do not want to think of the sight), pull your legs into the lotus position (or as close to it as your tired bones will allow), place the drum in your lap and beat the fuck out of it with your dick. I am really, really sorry, but Trip Reset isn’t sex or drugs to me. It is music for meditation. Heady music without a doubt and a nice way to spend an hour or so, but Jesus Christ, don’t try to trick me with your “new age” mind set. Lullabies for babies and senior citizens are far removed from sex and drugs. The most sexual song on Trip Reset appears at the close. “Firewoman (Exhuma Exhortation)” is a song for sex, if the music coming before hasn’t put you to sleep. —Scena Gava  

The Elevator Drops
Pop Bus
Time Bomb Recordings   

“Heaven help us. Multitudes of schizophrenics wander aimlessly through these city streets like broken down robots. Nerves misfire like sizzled wires. Fizzled brains cannot cope. Reality has melded with vampires, punks and aliens. Screw the snobby underground tunnel running from here to NYC to Amsterdam to Roswell to Nowhere all heavily guarded by name droppers with chain wallets which are connected to trust funds. We are the only whatever. We’ll be the first ones to go.” There’s your liner notes. Now that we’ve moved through Bowie’s glitter phase how about progressing to “Heroes”? The band takes Bowie, the psychedelic ‘60s, some lo-tech M/Yellow Magic Orchestra and countless other influences, throws them in the food processor and hits mix for a random time length. The Elevator Drops come from the place they’ve been hiding. In their space the music continued to evolve as did technology. There are plenty of experiments, usually they work, but there are also fully developed numbers like “Car.” A work of rock ’n’ roll beauty, that one. Where do they get their drugs? “Drop 19 (I Wanna Be A)” makes me wanna be “A” too. Usually when one of these discs appears completely unannounced it means the band is coming to town. To date I’m not aware of a booking, but watch for the Elevator Drops. —Borracho

Read more from the SLUG Archives:
Cyco Miko
The Stiff Sheet: April 1996