Oh Jesus! How shit is this new Blogger thing wot they've paid some 'expert' to re-jig!? Fucking Hell!
Remember MySpace? This is going the same way. I start a new post with a childlike excitement, then quickly give up in a childlike strop after trying to select labels for my new post.....click and wait technology......But, I won't let the 'Man' get to me with his power games...oooooh no! So here's a transitional Peter Brotzmann work, recorded on the humble cassetten,yet never released on a humble cassetten. Yup, it's Jazz Metal soopergroop , 'Last Exit' innit?
Do I hear a Groan?....unfortunately,yes, Bill Laswell does makes a traditional appearence with anything to do with downtown jazzy types.He's the Thurston Moore of Jazz,although I think Thruston Moore reckons that his-self is in fact the Thurston Moore of Jazz too? What is it with these serial collaborators? They crop up like a bad smell in a toilet,and usually contribute nothing......the jury's out on Eno however,'cus i'm a bit of a fan of our Brian Peter George St John le Baptiste de la Salle Eno.....but.....with a name like that he is obviously rather Posh,which gave him full Progressive rock qualifications above and beyond the call of duty. Never trust anyone with more than two christian names. A case in point is the beyond awful posh bloke whose childhood ambition was to become Prime Minister of Britain,and worse still, actually did!?......Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson......which is code for 'Bastard'.
Who the fuck has a realistic childhood fantasy of being a country's leader other than that priviliged line of human aliens with the reptilian DNA? Little undernourished Tommy Atkins from the council estate with the abusive parents' greatest ambition was to learn to read, not study Greek History with a bunch of Oxbridge cronies,and future leaders,and, do it all with a smirk on his face!? Why didn't someone slap those smug jowels at kindergarten and nip this horror in the bud? It might not be too late?
Yes, anyone can become a leader, except the Kings won't let it happen.
So, here we have a group, proudly displaying moustaches and beards when it was patently 'Unhip' to do so, wearing clothes that would impress only Michael Bolton's wardrobe assistant. Their debut sooper pooper groop eponymous debut was rather good in its musical napalm tendancies. This outing is less so,with rather too much of Sonny Sharrocks metally guitar work,and his even worse singing, but it has its moments.Brotzmann's sax is, for once, well mixed,and not stage front.Peter's other main contibution is likely to have been the very Brotzamannesque song titles of "Sore Titties" and the terribly rude, but laughable, "My Balls/Your Chin"!!!?
Recorded at the North Sea Jazz Festival in Copenhagen to cassette,so it has that nice saturated cassette sound that's so hard to reproduce in any other medium.We like cassettes here......sorry about the Laswell though.
1. Line Of Fire
2. Big Boss Man
3. Sore Titties
4. Ulli Bulli Fooli
5. Ma Rainey
6. My Balls / Your Chin