Monday, 27 February 2017

The Noseflutes ‎– "Mellow Throated" (Rictus Recordings ‎– REAP 002) 1991

The Noseflutes did eventually succumb to a disinterested world and go their separate ways after their 1991 swansong "Mellow Throated".
Yet another high quality collection of off-kilter experimental alternative Pop tunes, for listeners with more than half a brain. And to think they were once called 'Extroverts In a Vacuum' and 'Shitstormer' among other rejected monikers.......both better than The Noseflutes I suggest,but..hey....a much missed group of individuals whatever they called themselves.

Tracklist:

A1 Mellow Throated
A2 Ossified
A3 Give Me The Keys
A4 Lurkin' In The Jerkin
A5 Dappled Offspring
A6 Oven Of Arson
B1 Farrago
B2 Gum Goddess
B3 Pressed Fur
B4 Much Decorated
B5 The Soiler


Sunday, 26 February 2017

The Noseflutes ‎– "Zib Zob And His Kib Kob" (Rictus Recordings ‎– REAP 001) 1989



Unlike many of their peers,The Noseflutes managed skillfully to totally ignore the 'Dance' revolution of 1988, and carry on doing exactly what they had been doing for close on a decade. Even The Fall had a fucking DJ in the group around this time, and actually had their drummer play the 'Funky Drummer' beat. Martin Bramah amazingly returned to the line up(briefly) and swapped his earlier discordant guitar style for choppy Issac Hayes Wah-Wah guitar!? I vividly remember going to see The Telescopes around 1990, just after their skull crushingly noisy "Taste" album, to discover that they had 'turned on, tuned in and dropped out', complete with the aforementioned wah-wah guitar, Maracas , and dancy rhythms. I went to receive the expected ear damage, but left (early) with a headache.What a pile of shit!....the only other choices we had were that beyond terrible American 'Rock' revival Grunge crap, or Dance like a drugged up spastic to the shittest album ever made,none-other than Primal Screams "Screama-fucking-delica".
None of this nonsense for The Noseflutes however. Still obviously sticking to Beer as the drug of choice, and making disjointed, intelligently surreal avant-pop, with a palatable sense of humour and irony. A Tambourine cannot be shaken without a strong sense of the Ironic.
Finally,Two reasons that this album is a submerged classic;1-,Its called "Zib Zob And His Kib Kob"*; 2- It has "Spitball on my Kisser" on it; and 3-...(Yes there are three reasons!)....it stands as a testament against the Hive mind.

*as previously mentioned this was listed in the Sunday People's "101 most Awful Album Titles On Record" list sometime in 1996, which figures, as that was the era of the reprehensible Brit Pop aka Brit Shit, era......also 'Zob' is a french slang word for a Penis, which describes the compiler of that very list superbly.

Tracklist:

A1 Needle To The Sackcloth
A2 Yellow
A3 Charms
A4 Spitball On My Kisser
A5 On The Same Level As Too Much
A6 Fruitfly
B1 Puffing Collapse
B2 Pump Ass
B3 Eminent (You Call Me That)
B4 No Plans
B5 Thug Thug Thug
B6 Treated Older
B7 Paradise Smells Wonderful To Me
B8 Families Disappear


Saturday, 25 February 2017

The Noseflutes ‎– "Heartache Is Irresistible" (Ron Johnson Records ‎– ZRON 28) 1987

The Noseflutes first outing on the nearly impeccable Ron Johnson Records was this partially flawed 12" EP. It contains at least three surreal indie-pop classics, in "Rotting Honeymoon","Hanging a Scarface", and the immaculate "Body Hair(Up in the Air)"!; which would have been a massive hit if done by some giant of showbiz like Keith Harris and Orville, or PJ and Duncan.
The title track is something to be avoided,it's like those World music records that Peel insisted on playing in between the good stuff.  This was a good reason to tape his shows to fast forward through the 'Bhundu Boys' between the Sonic Youth and Laibach tracks. Strictly for right-on middle class intelligentsia fakes,and definitely not for me!

Tracklist:

A1 Heartache Is Irresistible
A2 Rotting Honeymoon
B1 Hanging A Scarface
B2 Thousand Pound Coat
B3 Body Hair (Up In The Air)


Friday, 24 February 2017

The Noseflutes ‎– "Several Young Men Ignite Hardboard Stump" (Reflex Records ‎– LEX 5M) 1986


Well would you believe it? That cover photo is of a person falling to their death from the World Trade Center 25 years before this was replicated en masse.
No doubt some '9/11 Truth Seekers' will see this as the start of the conditioning that led to us accepting the 'official' story and willingly giving away our human rights in the name of security?
What did The Noseflutes really know?....well, they certainly knew how to write an unconventional disjointed pop song or two, and had a real talent for great album titles.This one didn't manage to make The Sunday People's "101 most awful album titles on Record" in sept 1996, but their second album "Zib Zob and his Kib Kob" did.
As the 'People' is in fact nothing more than a moronic comic for intellectual pondlife and Brexit/Trump supporters, this is a compliment;what could be worse than having any fans among these scholarly also-rans. The fact that the author of this list, one Gary Leboff, obviously has irony blindness, speaks volumes about his qualifications to be a serious journalist; the Times would not be calling at any time in the future let's say.
Not the best Noseflutes Album by any stretch of word, but still a fine collection of abstract pop tunes for the discerning ex-university pub dweller.......and with such a classic album title as that, it demands your attention at least!? 

Tracklist:

A1 Perfect Cockney Hard-On
A2 Romance Takes Control
A3 Dreamboat
A4 Bullet Enters Brad
A5 This Is My Home
B1 Lumbo/The Harmony Of Dogs
B2 Holiday Time
B3 Past Promise Broken In Previous Life
B4 Why Is Everyone A Man?
B5 The Sugar Ranch
B6 Cowboy Factory


Thursday, 23 February 2017

The Noseflutes ‎– "Girth EP" (Reflex Records ‎– 12 RE 11) 1985


These chaps have got a sense of humour haven't they? Either that or they are drunk or both?
One word punchlines are hard to come by, but 'Girth', is one of the best. It can raise a grin at the most inappropriate of times.
Always partial to a surreal but piss taking track title, The Noseflutes , display many Beefheartian traits in their compositions; but with classic British  sardonicism from some downright weird music hall,slash, Pub tradition.
Never really been a fan of groups with more than five members in them. The Noseflutes had anywhere between five and nine over the years, but they don't sound like they do; so fuck knows what all these extraneous members did during these complex surreal pop tunes.
At least there was no Bez, Paul Rutherford,Chas Smash, style extraneous band member; they all seemed to contribute,however minimally to the process. Kind of in a Rick Wright (Pink Floyd) kind of minimal contribution way.
Too many band members does however aid the post rehearsal fun factor down the pub; which i reckon was the main reason for having all their mates in the band.
Anymore extraneous band members come to mind?.....Sid Vicious?....That dancer with Howard Jones?.....answers on a postcard please.

This is a great EP by the way!

Tracklist:

A1 Girth
A2 Sawdust And Glass: Kicking Ass
B1 Give Me The Keys
B2 Shallow For Deep


Tuesday, 21 February 2017

The Noseflutes - "Peel Sessions 1985-1989" - (a Die or DIY? Compilation)


Just like Aerosmith appeared to fill in for an absent Led Zeppelin, there's always a substitute for the main act willing to fill a void.
The Noseflutes were on hand just as The Nightingales were breaking up,and slotted in nicely to the space left behind; they even had a name that began with 'N'!
That said, they were more than just a poor man's Nightingales(Unlike Aerosmith, who were definitely a very poor man's Led Zep). They also had a lorry full of wittily titled and eccentric tunes to foist upon the willing public. Another band that had Ron Johnson Records written all over them.
Naturally this also meant that John Peel would inevitably like them a lot, and they did four sessions for said DJ's BBC programme ....not as many as The Nightingales did, but a lot nonetheless.
Having compiled this file,I can say in all authority, that this is the best Noseflutes album by the length of an average noseflute. 

Track Listing:

01 Taking Out the Creases (01-09-85)
02 Worthy Pious (01-09-85).
03 Let Me in to Beg(01-09-85)
04 Love Endures the Autumn(01-09-85).
05 Bullet Enters Brad(01-09-85).
06 History Of Heart Disease [17-08-86]
07 Serving In Paradise [17-08-86].
08 Catcheel Maskhole [17-08-86].
09 Leg Full Of Alcohol [17-08-86].
10 The Ravers [17-08-86].
11 Bodyhair Up in the Air[05-05-87].
12 Rotting Honeymoon[05-05-87].
13 Spitball On My Kisser[05-05-87].
14 Thug Thug Thug[05-05-87].
15 Born in the Last Ditch[08-01-89].
16 Ossified[08-01-89].
17 Rum Ship[08-01-89].
18 Much Decorated[08-01-89].

DOWNLOAD to your digital nostrils HERE!

Monday, 20 February 2017

Jackdaw With Crowbar ‎– "Hot Air" (Ron Johnson Records ‎– ZRON 33) 1988


Not so good was the debut vinyl LP from JWC. Too many reggae numbers, as in three too many; and some lifeless versions of songs we've already got on their previous EPs. Also included are remixed tracks from their previously released cassette,"Bumpercrop Selection", not even worth re-recording apparently?
There is the saving grace of "Turkey Shoot", which is classic Jackdaw, but not as good as the version from the Peel Sessions.
It was,after all, recorded in the horrific "Second Summer of Love" of 1988 i suppose.So one is wondering whether the evil mind controlling drug 'Ecstasy' had been a distraction? I hope not!
Maybe its just the pressure of living up to their previously High standards of nutjobbery that made this a travesty of Crow?.....Its not that bad by the way, just disappointing.
They did release another album in Italy(!)around 1991-ish, which I was totally unaware of, and have never heard; but by then the magic would definitely have dissipated.
(anyone got a file of this missing Jackdaw?) 

Tracklist:

A1 Travesty Of C(ro)w
A2 Banjoid Festi
A3 Sultan Of Pickle, Son Of Bran
A4 Scrape
A5 New Right Wing
B1 Turkey Shoot
B2 Iceberg
B3 Amarillo
B4 Stomach Pump
B5 Sailor Soul Survivor
B6 F.U.S.A.


Sunday, 19 February 2017

Jackdaw With Crowbar - "The Peel Sessions:1987" (a Die Or DIY? compilation)


Jackdaw with Crowbar's two Peel Sessions only include one reggae number, which is a good thing.That leaves six tracks (they only manged 7 over two sessions!), of prime period,1987 vintage, Jackdaw.
Plenty of borderline sanity, Beefheart on speed loony tunes for the casual nutjob.
The songs that appeared on their 1988 "Hot Air" album are indeed inferior to the versions from these sessions, as always is the case.
However, on the whole, this is an increasingly rare bird whose glossy black plumage hides some genuinely unique and crazed music; the like of which is seldom seen this side of the late twentieth century.

Track Listing:

1 Iceberg(19-5-87)
2 Ignorant(19-5-87)
3 Turkey Shoot(19-5-87)
4 Amerillo(19-5-87)
5 Tightrope(04-10-87)
6 Stomach Pump(04-10-87)
7 Sailor Soul Survivor(04-10-87)

DOWNLOAD as the band played on while the Titanic of intelligent pop sinks below the waves HERE!

Saturday, 18 February 2017

Jackdaw With Crowbar ‎– "Sink! Sank! Sunk!" (Ron Johnson Records ‎– ZRON 31) 1987


Jackdaw's second EP on Ron Johnson, is the lower budget equal of their first,and seems to fit in nicely as the soundtrack to the madness of 2017. Based largely on a Titanic disaster theme,backed up with strong anti-american, anti-nuclear rhetoric, this seems an appropriate post the morning after thee DUMBEST presidential press conferences made by anyone baring that title of office. As the united States of America goes full steam ahead towards the Iceberg that is Trump.
Lets read what he had to say about nuclear war shall we?.....

“And I can tell you one thing about a briefing that we’re allowed to say, because anybody that ever read the most basic book can say it: nuclear holocaust would be like no other......You know what uranium is, right? This thing called nuclear weapons, like lots of things are done with uranium, including some bad things.” 
(Donald J. Trump,leader of the western world, 17/02/2017)

This moron,let's face it, he is a Moron by any standard of stupidity and ignorance; has the potential to make "The Bowling Green Massacre" look like just a made-up figment of some retarded plutocrat's feeble imagination.
Please come back Dubya!!!!
Sleep safely in your beds kids????

Tracklist:

A1 Sunk By An Iceberg
A2 Redstar Loco
B1 Amerillo
B2 Fuck!! America

Thursday, 16 February 2017

Jackdaw With Crowbar ‎– "Monarchy Mayhem And Fi$hpaste" (Ron Johnson Records ‎– ZRON24) 1987


From the mean streets of Leamington Spa sprung forth this bizarre quartet of lunacy on the great Ron Johnson Records in 1987. The year before the end of rock's Golden era.
I don't remember Jackdaw With Crowbar ever stooping to shaking a Tambourine, wearing a stripy top and dancing like an idiot in order to remain relevant.....oh no....they just disappeared along with every other great band in the Ecstasy haze. Probably a shadow government plot to finally silence dissent and subversion......and it worked.
Just have a listen to "Crow" and imagine what that would have sounded like in the hands of those awful Rave DJ gods post '88's '2nd' summer of love nonsense; the Andy Weatherall mix. That fucking James Brown funky drummer loop shuffling away behind the clucking chicken, with some black female gospel session singer busting a blood vessel in the background, and a velvet underground clone dancing like a prat shaking a pair of maracas.......by faaaaaar the worst era in modern music.When 'The Chav' really took over.They always flock willingly to any Nuremberg rally that will have them. 
Apart from the inappropriate 'Dub' track that ends this EP, this is as far away as you can get from government inspired homogeneity.
My mouth still drops open whenever I hear "Crow". Foghorn Leghorn and Captain Beefheart's bastard son; it is completely Nuts.

Tracklist:
A1 The Night Albania Fell On Alabama
A2 Siren
B1 Crow
B2 Fourth World


Wednesday, 15 February 2017

Jackdaw With Crowbar ‎– "Bumper Crop Selection" (Big Turkey ‎– 2) 1986


There have been few groups who have managed to produce my 'What the Fuck was THAT!?' face over the years. Off the top of my head I can think of Napalm Death, The Residents, The Shaggs, Blah Blah Blah's 'In The Army' single....along with a select few others. Among these would have to be Jackdaw With Crowbar.Upon first hearing the track 'Crow' on the John Peel show. They seemed obsessed with different types of Fowl, and making chicken noises through megaphones.These iare the kind of moments we all wait for aren't they?
'Crow' isn't on this self-released cassette unfortunately, but it does contain several early versions of tracks that would appear later on their Ron Johnson releases.
So if you like unhinged Anti-American Turkey, Chicken, and Crow noises, backed up by the Magic Band in Dub, then this is for you.
Personally, i always fast forward the Dub tracks, like I do when I play The Bad Brains; a bit too generic for my tastes.....and fucking boring(unless you're stoned)! The opposite of the genius of 'Crow'; which i will be posting chronologically after this post.
Also I think the noble Crow is my favourite animal,so anything with Crow's on it has to be off to a good start.


Tracklist:

A1 Lies
A2 Ignorant B'$tard$
A3 Albania Alabama
A4 Scrape Dub
A5 Bumper
A6 Curse
B1 New Right Wing
B2 Ice Dub
B3 Great Divide
B4 Slarti
B5 Roll Over Rover
B6 $on Of Bran
B7 Sailor Soul Survivor
B8 Banjoid Festj


Sunday, 12 February 2017

bIG⋆fLAME* - "The Peel Sessions 1984-86" (another Die or DIY? compilation)

Scratchy funk cubists bIG⋆fLAME*,you will not be surprised to know, did a lot of John Peel sessions during their brief tenure at the forefront of subverting the 'pop' idiom.
Always a smashed mirror image of Orange Juice ,they pasted the shards back in the frame like a cut-up sonic novel,confusing the human need to look for patterns in chaos.
Compare these versions to the studio equivalents released on vinyl, and you will see there was indeed method in the madness;they were actually repeatable compositions and not bags of random noise with a re-used title after all?!
These ardent northern left-wingers also had a sense of humour(!), which downgraded their genius in the music aficionados rigid scale of 'good'.
These sessions included a couple of tongue-in-cheek cover versions,or conversions, including one of Wham's atrocious "Wake me up before you go-go"; which refers to the bands early 'fake news' release that they were once Wham's backing band.This was quickly taken as 'fact' by the man in the pub,to become an indie myth. Be careful when you mix humour with music.....it can destroy you.....and invariably does.Intelligence is needed.


Track listing:

1st Peel Session 16/07/1984

1. Breath Of A Nation 

2. Debra 
3. Man Of Few Syllables 
4. Sargasso

2nd Peel Session 17/02/1985

5. All The Irish Must Go To Heaven 
6. New Way 
7. Chanel Samba 
8. These Boots Are Made For Working

3rd Peel Session 17/11/1985

9.  Earsore 
10. Let's Rewrite The American Constitution 
11. Cat With Cholic 
12. Every Conversation

4th Peel Session 04/05/1986

13. Sink (Get Out Of The Ghetto Blues Part 1) 

14. Xpqwrtz (Pronounced Tshh!)
15. Three On Baffled Island (The Hard Rock Movement)
16. Testament To The Slow Death Of Youth Culture
    (Wake me up when its all over)

Saturday, 11 February 2017

bIG⋆fLAME* ‎– "Rigour 1983-1986" (Drag City/Ron Johnson Records)


I was going to carry on with some more Anarcho-Punk stuff, and listened to Flux Of Pink Indians early fuzzy hardcore stuff.It wasn't long before my mind drifted away thinking of music i actually like.....Ah! Ron Johnson Records; one of those record labels that demanded one bought everything it unleashed, briefly, back  in the mid-eighties. One of those labels that had its own sound and identity,like Factory,4AD,and Rough trade (all before they got gentrified of course).
There was undoubtedly a Captain Beefheart flavour to all of the Ron Johnson Bands, disjointed tunes, in funny time signatures, barbed with a slab of spikey energy; the acceptable side of the C-86 Indie era.
My thought immediately went to bIG fLAME, who's music makes Flux of Pink Indians the musical equivalent of a dose of Mogadon. (Although, Flux did make an LP with one of the most succinct  album titles ever...check "The Fucking Cunts Treat Us like Pricks!" album HERE!)
bIG⋆fLAME*'s tunes are indeed the equivalent of Trout Mask Replica stuck on fast forward,with all three band members playing in different time signatures at 100MPH. A kind of art damaged scratchy funk crossed with the sound of a skip full of boxes and tins being emptied at a land-fill site somewhere between your ears.
Never having released a long player amidst their multifarious singles, ep's and mini-albums; there was a need for a compilation collecting them all together in one place.
So here it is,thanks to American label Drag City.Americans aren't that stupid after all?

Tracklist:

1 Sink
2 Sometimes
3 The Illness
4 Man Of Few Syllables
5 Debra
6 Sargasso
7 All The Irish (Must Go To Heaven)
8 ¡Cuba!
9 Where's Our Carol?
10 Why Popstars Can't Dance
11 Chanel Samba
12 Breath Of A Nation
13 Every Conversation
14 New Way (Quick Wash And Brush Up With Liberation Theology)
15 Cat With Cholic
16 Earsore
17 Three On Baffled Island (The Hardrock Movement)
18 Let's Rewrite The American Constitution
19 XPQWRTZ


Thursday, 9 February 2017

Poison Girls ‎– "Hex" and "Chappaquiddick Bridge" (Crass Records 421984/9 & 421984/2PG) 1979/80



The forty something mother of two of the Fatal Microbes was the lead snarler of The Poison Girls, Vi Subversa. She broke the mould by starting a rock career after the age of 25, in fact she was 40,slightly chubby, saggy round the jowls and a marketing man's nightmare. Its normal nowadays to be pushing forty to be in a group, nobody batts a droopy eyelid. Mothers in bondage can rebel too, and she was the first to do it......it's also known as having a mid-life crisis by the way.
As much as I don't like seeing a bunch of old blokes 'rocking out', one has to admire them for it. I saw a video of the Angelic Upstarts playing all the 'hits'at the 100 club a year or so ago, and they look like a bunch of Arthur Mullards socking it to an audience of Les Dawson's and Hylda Bakers with dyed pink hair and biker jackets(Fuck me! Mensi looks like some kind of lizard with a pot belly and a flat cap!?). Its no different to my mum and dad going to see the James Last Orchestra in the 1970's......yep there's nothing like moving on is there?
I'd love to see/hear James Last doing a 'Punk' medley of 'Anarchy in the UK','White Riot' and 'Ca Plane Pour Moi", wouldn't you?.....far more subversive than the 'real' thing.
The nearest I could find is Herr Last knocking out Hawkwind's classic, 'Silver machine' and Alice Cooper's 'School's Out',sandwiching T-Rex's "Children of the Revolution".....never before have Marc Bolan's poignant words been more relevant,yet, irrelevant at the same time,.....enjoy:)

Vi died last year i am told,still 'rocking' at the age of 80.
She did however, spawn half of the Fatal Microbes, whom she got a single deal for with her influence at Small Wonder; who said there is no nepotism in the Anarcho-Punk scene?.....probably isn't any Anarchy or Punk either, but don't let that put you off....well in fact yes, let it put you off.

Check this charming duet at an Anarcho-Punk free festival, between Vi Subversa and Mensi, 'punking' up "You're the one that I want" from 'Grease'

Oh Yeah!...and what are the Poison Girls' records like?....who gives a fuck really....they're alright i suppose....not as good as James Last driving the final nail in the coffin of Rock with his revolution rock medley.He had an incredible talent for draining every ounce of energy and life out of anything he got his hands on. He inflicts more damage on the Rock'n'Roll myth in five minutes than the Punk movement has managed in 40 years!

TRACK LISTING:

"Hex":
A1 Old Tarts Song
A2 Crisis
A3 Ideologically Unsound
A4 Bremen Song
B1 Political Love
B2 Jump Mama Jump
B3 Under The Doctor
B4 Reality Attack



"Chappaquiddick Bridge":
A1 Another Hero
A2 Hole In The Wall (Thisbe's Song)
A3 Underbitch
A4 Alienation
B1 Pretty Polly
B2 Good Time (I Didn't Know Sartre Played Piano)
B3 Other
B4 Daughters And Sons


Fatal Microbes / Honey Bane - "The Singles Collection" (1979 - 1982)"






My late suicided childhood buddy(Tomo), who sold me his punk records for cheap when he went Northern Soul because 'Punk' had gone 'commercial';had a copy of The Fatal Microbes "Violence Grows" glued to the ceiling of his bedroom (his attempt at aesthetics I guess?) ; along with a few other singles/ceiling tiles I expressed a desire to purchase. I got 'Jocko Homo' by Devo on Stiff, 'Do the Standing Still' by The Table, "Sick Of You" by the Users, and Some Chicken's classic "New Religion/Blood on the Wall", both of them on original Raw Records. 10 new pence each secured me all these damaged goods along with the work of genius that is the 'Violence Grows EP'.
The Devo, Users and Some Chicken disc's were undamaged, except a bit of glue on the labels
But The B-side of the Fatal Microbes EP was unplayable due to the evo-stik in the grooves used to stick it to the ceiling. 
'Violence Grows'however, shone like a waxy leaf in a Saharan oasis. One of the best 10p's I ever spent.
I never heard the two tracks on the reverse until twenty years later, and I wasn't disappointed.
Obviously the Session musicians used on side one were not utilized for these two tracks, exposing the wonderful naivety of the music, as played by The Poison Girls' middle-aged leader Vi Subversa's kids; Gem Stone(15) and Pete Fender(14) (both later of the incredibly tasteless 'Rubella Ballet'). If these kids were born to anyone else, they would have probably listened to Disco music and gone to do a B-Tec at Polytechnic. A proud testament to the need for a sound parental influence....even if it was an Anarcho-Hippie one.

The lead singer of 'Fatal Microbes' was none other than 14 year old super-chav punkette, Honey Bane. Who went on to record another classic single for Crass Records, the "You Can Be You EP".Largely helped by various Crass members; who i hope kept their filthy hippy hands to themselves while in the presence of this vulnerable young lady.She was the victim of many a lecherous 'Punk' Svengali after Fatal Microbes split up,and whilst on the run from the Social Services; including ex-jonathan King buddy Jimmy Pursey (he used to attend King's Disco's/Hop's for kids in the mid-70's, where the despicable convicted peadophile committed the majority of his crimes;it wouldn't surprise me if the impressionable Jimmy didn't get a severe sodomising in return for showbiz perks?). Patrik Fitzgerald is in print admitting to such line crossing indulgence's....hopefully after Honey turned 16!
(We're Still waiting for Operation Yew Tree to turn their ruthless spotlight onto Pop music...Macca,Jimmy Page,Wyman...they're just the obvious ones.The jails won't be big enough)
As wonderful as Bane's first two Singles were, once Pursey took her under his wing it became some reprehensible attempt to be a new 'Toyah', but without Wilcox's obvious intelligence.Incredibly terrible new wave disco of the worst possible kind.
To know what a terrible mistake it was to have a post Sham 69 Pursey holding the final word in creative control,watch the YouTube clip of this secretly middle class stage school 'Punk' fake, doing some contemporary dance on a BBC2 arts show in 1981....(PLEASE CLICK HERE!YOU WON'T REGRET IT)....;a real working class yob ,Billy Connolly ,was also a guest on the show, and he exhorted to young James after his little dance; "What the fucking hell were you doing?????!"
Well I apologise for the majority of the shit on the Honey bane Singles Collection, but its worth it for the first six tracks;"Turn Me On, Turn Me Off" isn't too awful, in a cheesy kind of way I suppose.

TRACK LISTING:


Fatal Microbes:
Violence Grows
Beautiful Pictures
Cry Baby


Honey Bane:
Girl On The Run
Porno Grows
Boring Conversations
Guilty
Guilty Dub
Turn Me On Turn Me Off
In Dreams
Negative Exposure
Ain't Nobody's Business
Baby Love
Mass Production
Jimmy Listen To Me
Jimmy Listen To Me (alt Mix)
Wish I Could Be Me
Childhood Prince

Wednesday, 8 February 2017

The Cravats ‎– "In Toytown" (Small Wonder Records ‎– CRAVAT 1) 1980



The Cravats released some fantastic singles between 1978 and 1982; but when it came to the Album I remember being a bit disappointed in it's lack of 'Hits'.
Most of the tracks on here are mere fillers by Cravats standards;another entry in 'the would have made a great EP syndrome'?
"Still", "In Your Eyes", stand out track "Triplex Zone" and one more, would have formed an outstanding seven incher.
Having said that, compared to the thirty odd years of shite that followed, this record is a work tantamount to genius.
So to highlight this fabulous groups ability with the shorter format, I have adhered the three singles that preceded the album onto the file as much needed bonus tracks.
The rest of their superb singles can be found on "Colossal Tunes Out!"  as featured a couple of posts back on this very blog.

Tracklist:

1-Still
2-In Your Eyes
3-Welcome
4-Pressure Sellers
5-One In A Thousand
6-X.M.P.
7-All Around The Corner
8-Ceasing To Be
9-Gordon
10-Live For Now
11-Tears On My Machine
12-The Hole
13-All On Standby
14-Triplex Zone


BONUS TRACKS:

15-Gordon (single Version 1978)
16-Situations Vacant (Gordon B-side)
17-Burning Bridges (Single 1979)
18-I Hate The Universe (Burning Bridges B-Side)
19-The End (Burning Bridges B-Side)
20-Precinct (Single 1980)
21-Who's In Here With Me (Precinct B-side)

Tuesday, 7 February 2017

The Cravats - "The BBC Sessions 1979-1982" (a Die Or DIY? Compilation)



The Cravats were one of those often ignored 'Peel Bands'; the ones the DJ seemed to favor and benefited from regular invites to record a session for the BBC.
So they managed to squeeze in four sessions between 1979 and 1982.
The first three sessions were classic cravats, but the fourth features a changing line-up and signaled the the end for the group. Soon to morph into The Very Things; who weren't very good.
These sessions, however feature great alternate versions of such post-punk classics as "Rub Me Out","Precinct" and "You're Driving Me".Who could possibly want for more?

Track Listing:

31/07/1979:

1-Welcome
2-Who's In Here With Me
3-Pressure Sellers
4-Precinct
5-Live For Now

23/09/1980:
6-Still
7-In Your Eyes
8-Triplex Zone

9-You're Driving Me

10/08/1981:
10-Ice Cubists
11-Rub Me Out
12-Terminus
13-Firemen


06/11/1982:
14-The Station
15-Working Down Underground
16-There Is No International Rescue
17-Daddy's Shoes


Monday, 6 February 2017

The Cravats ‎– "The Colossal Tunes Out" (Corpus Christi ‎– Christ it's 8) 1983

As much as the idea of Crass depresses me, they did however have a very independant label, which amongst the dross,and awful Crass stuff, released some classic records, like Rudimentary Peni's "EP's" compilation, and a singles collection by The Cravats called "The Colossal Tunes Out".
As we all know, The Cravats had a saxophone in the line up; so what happens if someone plays a saxophone in a rock based format?...yep...they get the Jazz suffix applied to their genre label.
In the poor unfortunate Cravats case, they got labelled as 'Jazz Punk'!!?? Have these people ever heard any Jazz?
X-Ray Spex never got called 'Jazz Punk' did they? Niether did Theatre of Hate! Not even Jazz Goth was mentioned.(I'd love to see an actual Jazz-Goth group,can't think of a more incompatible coupling).
Jazz encompasses the art of the 'unexpected note',and an uncertain quota of improvisation;not just any musical ensemble with a sax in it. Neither of these traits can be applied to The Cravats, but they did have a sax player, amusingly called Svor Naan, who's sax playing followed the X-ray Spex template, playing melody lines rigidly adhering to a predetermined song structure.
The unexpected part of The Cravats was how unique sounding they were amongst the Post-Punk herds.Mainly due to their Dada-esque leanings, and The Shend's unhinged vocals.
This compilation's high points are undoubtedly "You're Driving Me", and the paranoid classic "Rub Me Out";previously released as singles on Small Wonder and Crass records respectively.
One of the stand-out and most relevant acts of the early eighties.

Tracklist:

A1 –Off The Beach
A2 –Terminus
A3 –Firemen
A4 –The Station
A5 –Working Down Underground
A6 –I Am The Dreg
A7 –You're Driving Me
B1 –There Is No International Rescue
B2 –And The Sun Shone
B3 –Ice cubists
B4 –Rub Me Out
B5 –Daddy's Shoes
B6 –When Will We Fall


DOWNLOAD these colossal tunes HERE!

Saturday, 4 February 2017

Rudimentary Peni ‎– "No More Pain E.P." (Southern Records ‎– BOOBOO 09) 2008


To round it all up on the Rudimentary Peni front, we have a guest reviewer,and RP advocate, from the Convivial Cannibal Clan,.....I think he like Rudi P, don't you children?



No More Pain E.P. Rudimentary Peni's last proper release from 2008. If you think I forgot Wilfred with no bassist on or in reality you’re a cookie hard to crumble. Any less and you would have a hum of an old refrigerator. But at least you could tune your instruments by in some soft princely subterarrians mind. If you got that you will need to explain it to me eventually someday so I too may recall. What I really mean is that this one here, without any pain, is at first glance to but the most initiated a sound sleeper. This can happen easily upon anything one has been waiting for and salivating over for years blurred by years. Suddenly to appear one day on a plate set upon a table that turns is bound to be swallowed voraciously. Unattentive before the rushing flow of anxiety can subside from the breaking of the pressurized damn by it's own contained weight in wait and anticipation. But let me skip about and go forward. When after many listens and a million millipedes crawling legs later the grumbles have curled up and all but died. Subsided to waysides and added to the piles of accepted truths I pretend to be panged before. When truth be told it warms me inside and fills voids and small crevice alike like cider vinegar given to stomach acid produces an alkaline sea filled with nay fraught but froth. The calming sea foam waters of youthful summers before the worldly ills willed their way into your direct vision of inescapable consciousness. I have to admit that I already knew that to swear on the Peni equals death. I doubly admit to the knowledge that this would be an instant death swift as it isn't sweet. I was/am/to be a moronic mensch machine it seems to the days end of my reversed youth. A surmiser of inequitable zeros stacked and racked. Drawn and hung, quartered and gutted. Measuring the drew entrails to count the prophecies in their shapes of things which shall come by this way in formidable foe of some formless fornication upon dead virgins on altered slates. A sacrificial pool of all things lost and loved more so because of their absence. Left on the door steps of strangers in towns no map has drawn and whose very names are pronounceable only to those who flick tongues to taste success built upon the sorrows of broken backs and hobbled featherless roll about, blind and confined to wheelchairs after being ejected and felled with newly human bodies fragile to the very earth so they may break. Gravity doesn't subside to grace anymore than the heaven's have a direct affect on the gravitational pull unto this tiny blue speck we call home, easily lost in the pitch of the void. Surrounded and contained, it composes all that is not the aether. What does this have to do with John, Nick and Grant you may ask? But do you listen truly anyways after voicing doubt? Or do you think of only fallables to slight and rise one's own ego and self worth? Done up every which way it is always still the same. And we are left surprised in it's final sum to find it's still a god like damnable sum of zero! Still! Why you ask. For what purpose possibly you must have this be the garnish left for no substance newly prepared but the same after taste of an already fetid taste by way of conditional Dysgeusia upon the mind. Counting backwards I hear by a sentenced admittance to prepossessing an ignorant ear. One not standard but duly equipped with a built in stereo feeder backed by the bliss filled hiss of some unholy-holy anamorphic reptilian of imagined biblical proportions. Grotesque as it is shaped and twisted by unseen sources unrecognizable compared to any perceivable truth held as recognizable. That I hear it all day long from rise to set, from lows through peaks is surmountable to any suffrage imaginable but thinking straight any bounty befallen upon the mind is nothing more or less the same. Only viewed from stations separated by perceived distances in concordance to one's own placement. Befitting or askew. It is most likely I truly believe up to you. Not to so much change but more in the failure to recognize vibrations and resonances. Deaf as a doorknob I think they say in far off parts of the world which you are not familiar with. This album is a sleeper because it slides by the listener and quickly. It's simple down progression of chords is as basic as a band with rudimentary in their name should be some would surmise. If they were of small wit and dimmer inner enlightenment. Or had your parents humor. In reality this is a great Peni album from their third phase in sound (fourth if you count the Magits) that include 'Echoes Of Anguish', 'Underclass' and 'Archaic' as well as this depressible little ditty. So you may think this is dark and gloomy and your parents are going to think you're suicidal if they hear or read the lyrics sang. Nick Blinko is such a tortured soul and as schizoid as they come you may say. Well maybe he is I've never met the guy. There is an ocean of misery between us. Filled with actual oceans and too many people along the way for any despiser of the human race to endure. But just because a claim is made or words said do not make them truth or with out their context being misunderstood. The semantics of language is an enemy to sardonic and cynical thought. Comedy is misinterpreted by those with nay but serious souls barren and drab in their automaton daily gear grindings. So of Nick's purported mental state one wouldn't and couldn't be learning that based on these songs nor the lyrics nor even the claims from the man himself. Remember it's never too late nor any day is it impossible to wake up as an entirely different person and to never be what or who you once were but in passing dreams or brief flashbacks quickly dismissed. I heard about a guy once who woke up as a cockroach. And then there were others who burned all the books where this had been told to in confidence for reasons even sillier than that of the purported cockroach anomaly. Which is allowed to exist as reality? Which is deemed preposterous? Which monstrous? The mind is an uneven blade. Naturally dulled and without gleam. It takes hardened hands and keen skill to shape and sharpen. Polish and shined until it lusters in pure darkness of its own source. With a point as sharp as the tongues gathered in conversation at Agora in ancient times. Nearly all these songs and a good deal of much of their catalog of gloom has actually been penned and plucked by the one named Grant Matthews. Yup. Grant Matthews the unassuming bassist who in more likely a reality is the core individual most responsible for keeping the Peni flame alive and burning well enough through the years to keep the games playing along to the off beat paths of the always guaranteed new disenchanted youth being sprung forth in brooding packs daily and at an exponential rate. Even songs lets say from their most cynical and stark raving 'Death Church' which you swear had to be the by product of old sick Nick more often than not was mostly Grant. The beauty and what I find most endearing about the partnership which is Peni, is their seemingly complete lack of inflated ego at all. Or so it appears to me anyhow. A single fan separated by space and some time zones. Maybe I'm right. Maybe I'm wrong. I'd rather not know. The mystery is the allure and I shall say that again and again. Fact less are many of our so called facts and knowledge over this band that it is near impossible to get the same story twice ever. Peni is well aware of this and by no shorting of strong wills I'm sure have continued on in silent repose. To the nays of some but to the cheers of the silent majority whom keep to themselves and have always been immediately attracted to one or all elements of this band only to have it grow by the years spent wondering and imagining and filling in their own stories for lack of attention gained into the private lives of it's members. Nick's lucky I'm in southern California or I'd loiter about his dwellings just as those wretched curious miscreants whom haunted Syd Barrett in his house on the hill days spent in self exiled alone time. So naturally lack of public corrections and statements have led to facts being derived from as far back and up a ways inside dark recesses of our own asses. Pinkish palaces to keep heads too tired or cold to leave the warm but cramped corridors of denial and ignorance. Risks of suffocation or retardation due to lack of oxygen to the brain not even enough to talk one out into the fresh airs of clarity. that I wouldn't be surprised if it was all culled out by carefully inserted tubes by sordid nurses who wash hands with naught but bodily fluids splashed. The reuse of and unsanitary swapping out plasma for colostomy bags are frowned upon but by whom? The elastic plastic shoot 'em up junkie's of faux pas youthful fountains? Turned over to reveal truer yet identities of a vandalized urinal. Naked as a porcelain god but dressed down in scraps through scrawled initials of unreal hound dogs bringing home the dug up bones of it's long dead master. Whom have tried and toiled at or about degenerated activity in non duality. In vain or vanity either leads to the trickle of the anointed nectar, this gnosis, this stream. Silently staining the gene pool in a luminescent hue like piss dribbled down the leg of blue jeans soaked through. All this non concerned to force an epic enema of very mean proportion onto the sad eyed crass kids because they were smelly and ate dapper for breakfast in between huffs. i remember being told when younger that Nick Blinko used to live by a graveyard and as a kid would dig up bones and put them back together like some ghoulish kin of Gein, in sorted fragments. Hogwash. I am so far off in a flight of ideas let me pull the madness in.

This album is great its simple yet catchy. It's lyrically gaunt and grim with little substance and only dark sentiments. Though if one see's through this casting of ominous shadows and thinks mercurial thoughts one may just see a smile in place of the assumed sneer and for some ephemeral moment it is whimsical cheer and music from distant merry go rounds forgot from youth in wistful recall. Dare I say it but they almost sound like they are having fun. Even frolicking I will go as far to exclaim. Pox on my head but they sound happy to me. Songs like 'Doodlebug Baby' are possibly products of an itchy schizophrenic Kafkaesque nightmare one could climb clouds to claim. Though I swear you would hear a snickering like choir overhead ever so faintly. Even the opener with lyrics ripped out of the pages of T.S. Eliot's Wastelands is more ode than malodorous in it's intention. So goes the closer and what a closer indeed. In any other hands it could have been foppish and as boring as it would be pretentious. Thee ol' 'Pachelbel's Canon In E' which some who you would think to be in the know pointed out that 'Canon in D' is more common than 'In E' is of little to no consequence and as near non sequitur as relative aesthetics are to theorized relativity. The fact this piece believed to writ around the seventeenth century had fallen into obscurity or swept into dustbins only to be rediscovered in the 1970's and gain in popularity to the point it is as recognizable as any anthem or god forbid top of the pop charts record holders is likely the inspiring tell tale behind it's tongue in cheek inclusion. But I'm as likely wrong as I am long winded or rather narrow yet long in fingers as I peck away at keys like seeds to the well preened bird. Late to rise but not filled with worms either. There are seeds a plenty that go by unconsumed and left never to sprout. The possibilities are endless. Congratulations for making it another half decade to scrape on by hand me outs. With stagnate upturned palms unmoving and expectant over some force of animal magnetism to pull the loose change from pockets and purses through their powers of self pity and pungent pores clogged with filth and folly. You earn nothing through begging without mendication and mental meditation through fortitude and balance. Buy another patch your fabric is showing. You walking human billboard spawn of the modernized hippie bastard. So hate hate if you must or find that you can. For what you hate is all that you shall ever be. Words are the sinister sister to mankind's brotherly barbarism of violence and blood shed. Semantics are pure prejudices beyond spectrum unto all things. Separating and assigning. Labeling and qualifying. From birth to death we just babble on. It's no surprise the felled towers were given such a supercilious title as Babylon or the egg before the chicken. Both trite and a steamy bowl of tripe with secret ingredients secreted in squat knowledge kept hidden out back in the old abandoned bog sheds of yesteryears. black and white half an hours worth of these bloats effort of maybe a month's worth of work out of many more unconcerned. Do they deserve our admiration... absolutely. Could they try harder and give us more... who fucking cares. Do they owe us anything at all ever again... NO. Will a part of me die when it is finally a coffin note that is struck instead of basic bar chords by them and theirs... undoubtedly. Do i feel anything I have said holds a candle to their mystery... one would hope. But pessimists aren't supposed to do that. So listen to this and have a tummy ache in one's heart. Draw the stupid faces upon the clowns and jesters of life, dyslexic and upside down. Be jolly down deep in your bleak battered speech and wear dark colors. Say existentialist phrases as you feign in your soul for divinity. Be a miserable wretch with naught but disdain for your fellow man. By manes of lions we measure the beastly gristle. Not in girth but by outstretching our own falsities and failures. A heavy burden is so wearisome it must make thee mangled and disheveled. Then they scold with the hot blooded pastels of their master Hieronymus Posh by all things in a box. Pure dross! But it isn't what it is. Is what it is, really that which it is trying to convey? Undecided. So here's the last bone to be thrown amongst the savage and insatiable packs of the dog breath ones whom walk by and stand on hinds. This shall make your fun time organs tickle like sands down the narrow canal of a shapely hourglass. It won't be long now before another. No joke is funnier than seeing the indigent, whom mope about in usual off pitched whines, rear up ugly heads as shivers down spines erect them attentive. Hear if they haven't yet and by all times excited still when it's heard that Rudimentary Peni has announced another short album E.P. shall be released into the wilds shortly on and in the Southern most tundra's no doubt. The Loder ghost stays vigilant by virtues alone in spirit. Well and thriving from diligence applied long before. As it carves out paths pragmatic and pure in intentions learned by them and passed through us that prick up ears just enough to catch winds fleeting by no mere chance. No date has been given. But there is a claim, yet only that of a title, 'The Great War'. I wonder which could this be in reference or rather in tandem with. I can only hope Nick has begun to dream of dreams again as pill bottles empty down piped drainage spouts. Adapting a new persona in that special touched in the forehead by that holy ghost of some spiritual regurgitation. Some regal king this time or warrior emperor of bygone eras and hysteria driven battles of histories greatest being the reference respectively. One can only and ever does hope i suppose. May the trumpets sound as a duck is released in a gestation of shambolic piece. Like shit through a goose if I am let down by the buckshot of my own mistake. I can only pray the atheist god is a kinder one still. I'm going off cliffs now way past beaten paths. So it goes it's been told to me and I with a hearing disorder go off to fiddle with digits on a calculator. Punching in negative numbers as a formation of meditation and relief to all those compounded interests at large. What have I said? Nothing. What do I leave? Nothing at best. What do I wish? A Happy new years to you all. It's the year of the cock. The human race should out beam the sun by this one. The orient luster of it all is mesmerizing. I guess. Like pearls before swine or the missing hands of an amputee clock still ticking away the time alone in it's own geared head.

--Sumguay S. Nodiril
(Misanthropic Schadenfreude Pond Scum, occasional Positivist)

Tracklist:

A Handful Of Dust 1:20
No More Pain 1:36
Eyes Of The Dead 1:35
Prayer For The Unborn 1:41
The Death Of The Author 1:30
Grave Object 1:44
Doodlebug Baby 2:11
Annihilation 1:55
Sublime Fantasy No. 1 2:08
Pachelbel's Canon In E 4:16

DOWNLOAD painlessly HERE!

Wednesday, 1 February 2017

Rudimentary Peni ‎– "Archaic EP" (Outer Himalayan Records ‎– BOOBOO8) 2004



More of RP's power trio 21st century death rock. Very fine and powerful it is too.
I think I have selected "Mercy Of Slumber" as the tune that is played as the handful of mourners at my cremation shuffle out of the crematorium to go to the pub.
Don't think me a cynic,but,the four lines to opener "One and All" are one of the most profound summations of the human condition in pop music.(see above as scrawled on the sleeve).
This is Metal as it should be played,and how it should sound, basically. Although to use the 'Metal' pigeon hole is a great disservice to a legendary combo. It isn't Metal, because you have to be a complete Twat to play in an HM group. And to my knowledge Blinko is too mentally ill to be a complete Twat.

Tracklist:

A1 One And All
A2 Suffer
A3 In Crematorium Flame
A4 Lost
A5 The Rain
A6 Mercy Of Slumber
B1 The Curse
B2 The Enlightened Dreamer
B3 X N.H.S.
B4 Farewell Tomorrow
B5 House Of The Void
B6 Rehearsal For Mortality


Monday, 30 January 2017

Rudimentary Peni ‎– "The Underclass EP" (Outer Himalayan Records ‎– booboo7) 2000




You know what?.....this is more like it. Proper no nonsense punk metal, with a guitar sound like a buzzsaw cutting through a corrupt bankers crushed stone driveway. Topped off with Blinko's best gravel gargling vocals since 'Cacophony'; and great psychotic scribbled on padded cell toilet paper artwork. All the songs are between 58 seconds and one minute thirty in length, so they never overstay their welcome, and in some cases fit into the 'Leave 'em wanting more' slot from the annals (or anals) of 'Showbiz'. I think i could listen to the riff for "No Other Truth" for a good twenty minutes, with no need for extra vocals.......this is always a concept i have always wanted to explore musically, a bit like a heavy metal Circle*(*the finnish group who explored the magic of repetition to the nth degree).
As this RP EP only lasts less than fifteen minutes, that concept interests me more.......is a song as long as a piece of string, and if so do they merely 'end', or just 'stop'? And when they stop or end, does the effect end or stop with them.Music's magick can be truly infinite in the sonic chapter of the 'Theory of Relativity': Energy = mass divided by the speed of sound squared or E=mc2( i looked up the mathematical synbol for the speed of sound, and it was the same as for the speed of light!); so the faster the song moves the more time distorts, and bends back in on itself.Therefore are short songs really short? And would they exist if we weren't here to listen to them; for they are just different wavelengths of air movement, and you sure as hell can't listen to a movement of air pressure without a brain to create the language to understand it. Language is a virus and music is a language.
What i'm saying is, short songs may end, but their effect can last many times longer than their actual acknowledged length,like a microcosm of curved space/time in your Brain,which is the only place that music, or non-music, actually exists.

Tracklist:

A1 Captive Of Atrophy
A2 No Other Truth
A3 Essence
A4 Bequest
A5 The Mirror
A6 The Underclass
B1 Unchanged
B2 As Nothing
B3 Choice Of Evils
B4 The Internal Censor
B5 The Ocean Of Misery
B6 Clandestine Harem


DOWNLOAD some relatively short punk metal tunes HERE!