Dr Wommm's Medicine Cabinet

El Nuevo Hogar Del Dr. Wommm Está Aquí

2009-03-30T17:06:00.002Z

Dr Wommm's Patented Stupidity Cure

See you there...

Two Things...

2009-03-20T13:33:00.003Z

One: This blog is moving. Not far, but I need a bigger cabinet, plus the decor is getting on my wick. The new address will be posted in a few hours, when I've sifted through the hundreds of fucking stupid names for it and decided on the one which will probably induce the largest amount of complaints and/or the deepest disappointment. Being an inveterate hoarder, I won't be chucking any of the old crap out, I just don't seem to be able to write anything meaningful on this blog anymore, so I'm moving down the road to a nicer cupboard.

Two: If you have any interest in psychedelia or noise, keep Sunday the 12th of April free because Morgen und Nite are doing a gig with none other than Ramleh at the lovely Grosvenor in Sidney Street, just between Stockwell and Brixton. It's a tenner to get in, but for yr £10 you get a very long set from each band, an exclusive Morgen und Nite cd and (drum roll) the new 10" ep from Ramleh, their first release in well over 10 years, and as any noiz fule kno, a new Ramleh record is as essential as it gets, and if you wants to get it, you know where to be...

Plus, the Grosvenor does great (proper) beer, has really good food, and is run by excellent people. So buy yr tickets here:

http://www.wegottickets.com/event/45833 for the £10 tickets

http://www.wegottickets.com/event/46247 for the £7 - no 10" included tickets.

See you there

Where Once There Was Mu, Now There Is...

2008-08-30T12:31:00.004Z

According to the flyer above, I will be located between the gonad and the kidney.

Normal Services Will Be Resumed As Soon As Possible...

2008-08-04T14:00:00.003Z

For a variety of reasons which I may go into a later date, writing this blog hasn't exactly been a regular thing for the last few months, but rest assured readers*, a plethora, nay, a veritable cornucopia of opinionated ranting, drunken idiocy and gratuitous pictures of Anne Briggs will be appearing here soon. Stay tuned.

*I know where you live...

What You Make It, Part One

2008-02-22T16:51:00.004Z

Music theory isn't even a theory, it's a half-baked hypothesis, a forever uncompletable mess of historical and geographically specific data that still defines to most listeners (consciously or otherwise) what is acceptable to call "music" and what is not, and worse, which allows a certain kind of musician to define what is "right" and what is "wrong". Western music theory in particular is a huge and unwieldy set of rules, (sometimes somewhat arcane) mathematics, and a huge array of assumptions and prejudices that change according to the prevailing cultural climate of the times, the rubber room that where so many musicians willingly don the straitjacket and bounce off the same four walls for the rest of their creative lives. People like Wynton "there has been no new jazz made since 1955" Marsalis are the product of theory making, not music making, seeking to reduce whatever music it is they profess to love to a set of rules or procedures, deviation from which is punishable by ostracization or ridicule, a high-minded, academic approach which allows no room for true creativity or progression and leads to ossification, turning what should be living, breathing art into a static exhibit to be admired from a respectful distance, not engaged with on a visceral, emotional level as music should be.

To be continued shortly...

"I was lucky in those days to have a rich wife, and so we sold her tiara and swapped it for a computer"

2007-11-15T11:01:00.000Z

is only one of many fantastic quotes from this most excellent documentary about EMS , electronic music pioneers extraordinaire, which I suggest you go and watch immediately, not just because it offers a rather eccentric and very British take on the early days of electronic music as opposed to the more usual US (Moog, Buchla et al) or European (Stockhausen, Darmstadt etc) perspectives, but because it highlights a major failing in the mentality of this country which tends to allow it's most original thinkers to sink into obscurity as prophets without honour in their own land and also because it's fucking excellent.

Eddie Van Halen's Secret Love For Charles Ives...

2007-10-20T20:22:00.000Z

...is the only possible explanation for what happens during this somewhat interesting live version of (the already fucking horrible) Jump recorded a few weeks ago by some lucky attendee. Due to a fuck-up by one of their crew, the synth backing for the song is playing back at the wrong sample rate, and therefore at the wrong pitch, thus rendering Eddie's guitar wildly out of tune, a turn of events which he makes absolutely no attempt to rectify at any point in the following six minutes. A particularly fine recorded example of EVH's famed "brown" sound. Also, David Lee Roth is on pretty good form too...

Calling People Of Liverpool

2007-10-16T13:04:00.000Z

Oh yes good people of Liverpool, next Thursday at Zanzibar, along with the mighty homegrown Kling Klang, you get to see the ever unpredictable human drum octopus and improviser extrordinaire Charles Hayward and London's own sonic supermassive black hole Morgen und Nite. For four quid! Can't say fairer than that, can we?

Fire Music This Friday - Do Not Miss This

2007-10-16T12:39:00.000Z

Plan B and Bo'Weavil Recordings presents: Alan Wilkinson, John Edwards and Steve Noble + Tom James Scott FRIDAY 19 OCTOBER, WHITECHAPEL GALLERY, LONDON E1

The nights are drawing in, so gather round and get in the warm for the third in Plan B's Secret Landscapes series at the Whitechapel Gallery: this month, delicate autumnal improv followed by searing fire music from three UK free jazz legends.

In association with Bo' Weavil Recordings, Plan B is proud to present:

Alan Wilkinson, John Edwards and Steve Noble
Scorching free jazz from three heavyweights of the UK Improv scene. Plan B Magazine said of recent Bo' Weavil release Obliquity, "[it > has enough energy to power a decent sized town for a month. Saxophonist Alan Wilkinson's clearly been digging his old Albert Ayler albums, letting rip with insane shrieks and strangled cries that don't so much carry a tune as plug right in to the raging essence of uninhibited, animal self-expression. But, raw and ragged as it is, there's a world of telepathic, lightning-quick interplay at work here, too. Bassist John Edwards and drummer Steve Noble follow the ebb and flow of Wilkinson's outpourings, turning up the heat at the flick of a switch to create great boiling maelstroms of pure noise mayhem and dropping out at just the right moments into stretches of headlong, urgent free-swing. It's jazz alright, but you won't hear it on Parkinson."

Tom James Scott
Delicate, lambent solo acoustic guitar from Tom James Scott, whose debut album Red Deer is out this autumn on Bo' Weavil Recordings. A mainstay of the improvising collective CYRK and sometimes seen pounding a Casio in chaos-pop noise duo Clunes, Scott's solo string work is unashamedly beautiful, but with an instinct for space, silence and odd, eerie sonic detail that unnerves like nature.

With DJ support from Bo' Weavil Recordings and Dr Wommm.

WHERE?
Whitechapel, 80-82 Whitechapel High Street, London E1 7QX, Aldgate East, Tel: +44 (0)20 7522 7888

WHEN?
Friday 19 Oct, 7pm.

HOW?
£6/5 concessions, £3 for Whitechapel Members
Free for Whitechapel Patrons and Associates

Oh, So That's What They Mean By Cock Fighting...

2007-10-16T12:26:00.000Z

Some flatworms, such as Pseudobiceros hancockanus engage in penis fencing, in which two individuals fight,trying to pierce the skin of the other with their penises; the first to succeed inseminates the other, which must then carry and nourish the eggs.

Thank you Wikipedia...

Influenza Soundtracks

2007-10-16T11:07:00.000Z

Om - Pilgrimage (Southern Lord)
The Stars - Perfect Place To Hideaway (Pedal)
Marble Sheep - Old From New Heads (Captain Trip)
Kousokuya - Echoes From Deep Underground (Archive)
Circle - Katapult (No Quarter)
High On Fire - Death Is This Communion (Relapse)
Splintered - The Judas Cradle (Dirter)
Scientist - Dub In The Roots Tradition (Blood & Fire)
Helios Creed - The Last Laugh (Amphetamine Reptile)
Masayuki Takayanagi - Eclipse (PSF)
Embryo - Invisible Documents (Disconforme)
Kyoaku No Intention - Astral Projection (PSF)
White Rainbow - Prism Of Eternal Now (Kranky)
Suisho No Fune - Writhing Underground Flowers (The Lotus Sound)
Hototogisu - Sculpture Built Upon The Graves (Heavy Blossom)
Hototogisu - Sardonic Wooden Moonlight (Heavy Blossom)
Kebnekajse - Resa Mot Okänt Mål (Silence)
Alan Wilkinson/John Edwards/Steve Noble - Obliquity (Bo' Weavil)
Spiral Joy Band - Wake Of The Dying Sun King (VHF)
Residual Echoes - Phoenecian Flu & Ancient Ocean (Holy Mountain)

HIGHEST POSSIBLE RECOMMENDATION

2007-10-11T23:57:00.000Z

Look. It's This Heat live sometime in about 1980 or so. See, the internet is good for something...

also, kosmische wonderment in the shape of Guru Guru when they were actually (very, very) good...

and last but not least, the mighty Kraftwerk, in 19fucking70, with possibly the best audience ever...

Let's Rock'n'roll, An' Worship Satan; Get Born Again Girl, 'Cos Time's Awaistin'

2007-09-26T22:51:00.000Z

Cemetary, by the God Bullies. A perfect two minutes of snot.

Strangenessabounds

2007-09-04T15:19:00.000Z

I never thought I'd be in a position to say this, but seeing a picture of yrself in Grazia magazine is a deeply surreal experience...

Upsetting The Seismographers Of Greenwich This Week...

2007-08-01T15:02:00.000Z

Birchville Cat Motel - Birds Call Home Their Dead (Celebrate Psi Phenomenon)
Skullflower - Abyssic Lowland Hiss (Heavy Blossom)
Tonerlow - Tonerlow (Freebird)
Astral Social Club - Neon Pibroch (Important)
Harvey Milk - The Pleaser (Relapse)
Birchville Cat Motel - Bird Sister Blasphemy (Battlecruiser)
Burning Star Core - Amelia (DroneDisco)
Neil Campbell - Sol Powr (Music Mundane)
Mirag - Witch Queen Ascending (Heavy Blossom)
Brast Burn - Debon (Paradigm Discs)
Monarch! - Dead Men Tell No Tales (Crucial Blast)
Richard Youngs & Alex Neilson - Road Is Open Life (Celebrate Psi Phenomenon)
Astral Social Club - 10: Live At Subcurrent (ASC)
Hototogisu - Chimarendammerung (De Stijl)
Tony Conrad/Tim Barnes/Mattin - S/T (Celebrate Psi Phenomenon)
Heavy Winged - Hunting The Moon (Ruralfaune)
Pelt - Six Of Cups (Klang Industries)
Urban Concussion - Double Leopards (Qbico)
Karuna Khyal - Alomoni 1985 (Paradigm Discs)
Vibracathedral Orchestra - Mothing (CD-R)

Badgers Of Death!

2007-07-31T14:02:00.000Z

No, not another apallingly named Italian noise band, but the secret weapon some believe the British have been employing in Iraq. Dont' believe me? Well, perhaps you may be more inclined to believe the BBC...

The Effects Of Playing Extreme Psychedelia - No.1 In An Occasional Series

2007-07-25T17:11:00.000Z

The US Navy tried for years to perfect a method for rendering ships invisible, unsurprisingly they failed (although not necessarily in the way you might expect). Instead of pissing around with enormously powerful electromagnetic fields, all they really needed was two analogue synthesizers, one guitar, twenty fx pedals and two specialist field operatives trained in their deployment. As you can see from the photograph below, Morgen's head has already become translucent due to the massive levels of phaseshift and filterfuck emanating from the speakers...

Photo by Mark Pilkington

Kneel, Puny Earthlings!

2007-07-23T15:32:00.000Z

And as it was foretold in the forbidden Book of Ylem:

Out of the ageless chaos came a large shimmering ship powered by a vast solar sail. On board, three beings, whether gods, men, heroes or monsters, none can say. But what are known are the names and delights of each...

Read on, and know thy fate...

If You're Really Bored

2007-07-17T16:41:00.000Z

Why not peruse the fantastically enormous and insane spam comment some random fuck-up posted in response to the post "Bored Of Crap Films?", it really is quite something...

What Sundays Are For

2007-07-17T16:35:00.000Z

TWO SHOWS! ONE DAY! TEN BANDS!

Both happening on Sunday July 22nd.

HUSH ARBORS
Keith Wood aka Hush Arbors is straight outta Virginia, US and a long-time member of Sunburned Hand of the Man alongside his solo psych-folk explorations. Also regularly collaborates with Wooden Wand, Six Organs of Admittance and Current 93.

SHARRON KRAUS
Sometime Oxford, sometime Philadelphia resident Sharron Kraus gives us her incredible dark folk that draws comparisons with Shirley Collins and Anne Briggs, two artists who, like Sharron, have been released on the Bo Weavil label.

ALEX NEILSON
Alex Neilson gives us his unaccompanied solo vocal set of traditional and old-time songs. Neilson’s committed passion for British folk music as well as his deep involvement in the world of free music gives heavy weight to these classic songs.

JOANNE ROBERTSON
Visual artist / musician Joanne Robertson has collaborated with David Cunningham and has a forthcoming album out on Textile Records. Currently showing at the Nog Gallery on Brick Lane is her co-curated exhibition (with Byron Coley) Hot For Teacher. It’s great.

TOM JAMES SCOTT
Tom James Scott is a solo guitarist and sometime member of weirdo-improv rock duo Clunes. His own style is very much centred in minimalist solo acoustic guitar and there is a forthcoming CD album on Bo Weavil in the works.

Pleasure Unit, Bethnal Green Road, London
2.30pm, four pounds
tickets: http://www.wegottickets.com/event/19601

then later (a ten minute walk away)…

SUNROOF!
Sunroof! is the one of the latest manifestations of sonic beauty and oblivion from guitarist Matthew Bower, longtime champion of the UK experimental noise scene, best known as Skullflower’s guiding light and for his work with Total, Ramleh, Hototogisu and Sunlayer.

DIRECTING HAND
Directing Hand is the project of Glasgow-based Alex Neilson, member of Taurpis Tula, Scatter and Tight Meat Trio. Neilson is firmly at the core of free music in the UK and beyond, playing and recording with Jandek, Will Oldham, MV/EE, Richard Youngs and plenty more besides. This particular show will be a drum/vox duo of Alex and vocalist Vinnie Blackwall.

CHORA
Chora have recently relocated from Nottingham to London and deliver glorious psych-drones/vocal whitewash. Impending releases on Chocolate Monk, Gold Soundz, Curor and Utech.

MORGEN UND NITE
High-end oscillations low-end interference nothing in the middle holy fucking extremes one guitar two synths twenty pedals telepathy divided by C sharp equals bastard radiophonic blues offspring of Richard Pinhas and Eliane Radigue equals Morgen Und Nite equals INFINITY.

PARTING THE WILD HORSES MANE ON BOTH SIDES
PTWHMOBS is Pascal Nichols of Stuckometer and Kelly Jones of Cooper-Jones, who promise flute/drum/vocal meltdown.

Old Blue Last, London
8pm, six pounds
tickets: http://www.wegottickets.com/event/19602

Diversión De la Noche De Viernes

2007-07-10T20:48:00.000Z

Come to this, the last one was really good. I'm DJing, but don't worry, I promise I won't play any Southern Rock tracks...

...Unless you ask very, very nicely.

Google Attempts To Upload Planet!

2007-07-08T15:03:00.000Z

No, I'm not referring to the awesome (and slightly creepy) Google Earth, but to one of their experimental sites, Google Mars, where you can explore the terrain of our close celestial neighbour in beautiful hi-res satellite imagery. Unlike Google Earth, there's no markers for places to eat, stay or gawp at, but one day, who knows...

Bored Of Crap Films?

2007-07-08T14:46:00.000Z

Then I wholeheartedly recommend you check out the website of my good mate and fellow traveller of the spaceways, Gary Parsons, where you can view a few of his rather fine pieces of proper surrealist/magickal film making, where he achieves the extremely difficult act of not disappering up his own arse whilst making genuinely experimental films, a feat fewer and fewer directors/writers/whatever seem to be capable of these days.

Go here, and enjoy.

As Jeff Beck Once Said, Perfect Music To Play The Vicar When He Comes Round For Tea

2007-07-03T17:15:00.000Z

Michael Flower - Returning To Knowing Nothing (Qbico)
Boredoms - Super Roots 9 (Warner Japan)
Vibracathedral Orchestra - Wisdom Thunderbolt (VHF)
Ufomammut & Lento - Supernaturals Record One (Supernatural Cat)
Suishou No Fune - I Throw A Stone Into The Endless Depths (Slooow Tapes)
V/A - Pebbles Vol.5: Various Morons (A.I.P.)
Whitehouse - Racket (Susan Lawly)
Ramleh/Skullflower - Adieu, All You Judges (Broken Flag)
Sunroof! - Spitting Golden Zebras (Bottrop Boy)
Daniel Higgs - Plays The Mirror Of The Apocalypse (Slooow Tapes)
Lesbian - Power Hor (Holy Mountain)
Sandy Bull - Inventions (Vanguard)
Michio Kurihara - Sunset Notes (Pedal)
Arbete Och Fritid - Hall Anden (MNW)
Mammatus - Explode The Coast (Holy Mountain)
Richard Youngs & Alexander Nielson - Electric Lotus/Lotus Edition (VHF)
Astral Social Club - Vols 8, 11 & 12 (CD-R)
Ray Russell - Secret Asylum (Black Lion)
Boris - Vein 1 & 2 (Important)
Marble Sheep & The Run Down Sun's Children - Old From New Heads (Captain Trip)

I Am A Twat

2007-06-30T13:10:00.000Z

It's from fucking Apocalypse Now isn't it. Only seen it about 186 fucking times...

Like I Was Shot With A Diamond... A Diamond Bullet

2007-06-29T18:51:00.001Z

Those words, along with "...and Pat Stevens, who hates buttermilk, is going to..."*, echo about my addled skull more than any others in music**. On Wednesday night in a crammed basement bar in Frith St it was really ram(leh)med home to me, that aside from the reason below, that that sentence rings round my head so much "cos it sums up for me exactly what grabs me by the throat when I hear a guitarist who makes me go "Fuckkkk.....". Be it Peter Green or Helios Creed, John Cippolina or Matt Bower, Hubert Sumlin or Jim Plotkin, Sonny Sharrock or Debashish Battacharya or The Heads***, aside from the fact that they all have that unquantifiable thing "feel" in fucking spades. is a certain attention to the real extreme high-end of their respective sounds.

Those skull-ringing harmonics that most players roll off, deeming them too harsh or cutting, just too fucking much, are the essence of real sonic psychedelia for me, 'cos they're the frequencies which really disorientate and fool the ear, which change the sound so drastically when you move yr head an inch in any direction^, which make yr fillings rattle, make the top of yr skull vibrate like a coked-up throat singer whistling through their brainpan, make you feel ecstatic one moment, confused and agitated the the next. Especially with judicious use of phase effects, the treble is the key to yr unmind.

Have composers throughout history called for a bass or a baritone when they wanted to give a feeling of the other? Nope, they called on the services of the castrati, or (particularly in these more apparently enlightened times), the countertenor. At the other extreme, what instrument, in the soundtrack of an otherwise trite and tacky 50s B-movie, has ever provoked the feeling of cosmic unease like the high warbling glissandi of the theremin? Or listen to Hermann's score for Psycho, or Sala's trautonium on the soundtrack to The Birds, Hitchcock understood..

And so does Gary Mundy, to bring me back to the point of all this. Now I've expounded upon the delights of listening to Ramleh a number of times here, and they more often than not feature in my lists of what is currently annoying my neighbours, but the thing I haven't really gone into, and for which he never gets the credit that he deserves (along with Matt Bower, Phil Best, Neil Campbell, William Bennett, I could go on for hours), is what an astoundingly good musician he actually is. Anyone can make a racket (and get it released... the rise of Prurient^^ and the very existence of the Merzbox being two cases in point), but very little of what gets called noise these days is musically worth a shit. No dynamics, no understanding of how sound works, just a big fucking ego-driven drywank (copyright Julian Cope) wall of cock, sound and fury signifying nothing except the "artists'' desire to be noticed.

With Ramleh, there's none of that, just a pure burning distillation of what makes rock art, and art rock. There's no synth or electronics anymore, just the most basic elemental pulse, barely embellished, from the drums and bass - Martyn Watts fills Stuart Dennison's lead boots admirably, Andi DiFranco's (no relation - as far as I know...) monolithic fuzz bass as steadfast as ever in its pursuit of the none - building a solid foundation for that blues inflected, blazing crystal of a guitar sound to wind its labyrinthine way into your reptile mind, as bludgeoning as it is beautiful. And that's exactly what we got live, despite the appalling sound, the engineers inabilbity to balance anything and hs strange urge to make the sparse vocals (normally an important part of Ramleh's sound - you'd stop singing too if the engineer did what he did to Gary's vocals to yrs) eighteen times louder than everything else, a masterclass in psychedelic (in the proper sense of the word§) music, audial delerium and the western scale turned inside out, scything through yr head like a painfully benevolent laser, the guitar gleaming like a treble-heavy cut gem, every facet audible and perfectly set in the beautiful housing the rhythm section created for it.

Maybe I'm a curmudgeonly old cunt, but you don't get that very often these days. If you're looking for a guitar hero (and if y're over 15 you really shouldn't be, but if you are...) here's one to be going one with. Track down a copy of Homeless or Blind Alley and fucking LEARN.

*see here for why

**two different loops of those words, from a film or something I know but have never been able to fucking place 'cos of some weird quirk of memory, crop up on two seriously fine pieces of music; Diamond Bullet by Skullflower (from Obsidian Shaking Codex) and Loop's Shot With A Diamond (on A Gilded Eternity). If I could fucking remember where it comes from it probably wouldn't pop into my head so much...

***I could go on for fucking hours... Jorma Kaukonen, Michio Kurihara. Muddy Waters, Nocturno Culto, Kim Thayil, Wata... I'll shut up now.

^Along with pure sine waves of course...

^^Please, don't try and convince me that Dominic Fernow is doing anything new, or shocking, or extreme, or subversive. Having a picture of yr missus trussed up on the front cover of an album that you've recorded by dressing up as Alvin Stardust and waving a microphone in front of an amplifier is neither big nor clever, and it's certainly not original. Go and listen to some Whitehouse or Come Org, or fuck me, even TG, stuff that's getting on for 30 years old now and still makes you feel, still makes you think, still holds a mirror up to you. Noise is not "LOOK AT ME", it's "LOOK AT YOUR SELF"§§. One day, when you grow up, you might fucking get it.

§ From ancient greek - mind-expanding

§§ Or "The You" as William Bennett puts it. Rather nicely I think. Birds Of Delay and especially My Cat Is An Alien, this applies to you in JCB fucking bucketloads.

I'll get off my (admittedly slightly drunk) high horse now. But not for long.

Sorry For The Slackness...

2007-06-19T16:47:00.000Z

...but it's been a slightly mental few weeks and, dear readers, I just haven't had the time to write anything, but life is a little calmer now, so expect a veritable cornucopia of babblings very soon.

Abnormal service has been resumed...

A Fiver? Fuckin' Bargain Mate

2007-04-28T11:58:00.000Z

I think the flyer tells you everything you need to know, so get yr arses over to lovely Dalston for a feast of beautiful mindrot. You might not want it, but you know you need it...

A Short Rant

2007-04-25T22:57:00.000Z

An awful lot of musicians of all stripes talk a fantastic amount of shit when they discuss music, drowning in a sea of metaphorical bollocks in an attempt not to say "Frankly I do it because I fucking love the noise it makes and the way it makes me feel". They should be forced to repeat the quotation below (one of my favourite quotes on music ever) like a mantra until they either shut up, red faced and guilty, every time they're about to describe their latest opus as the musical equivalent of Finnegan's Wake or actually sit down and really think about what they mean before they open their fucking gobs.

"We are musicians and our model is sound not literature, sound not mathematics, sound not theatre, visual arts, quantum physics, geology, astrology or acupuncture." Gérard Grisey said that.

Red and Black, It's Their Colour Scheme...

2007-04-20T08:44:00.000Z

The totally wonderful Miss Daiquiri at the Surreal Things exhibition at the V&A. Photo by me. Surrealism nerds please note that the berries on Miss Daiquiri's hat look almost identical to the blobby things (technical art speak there) in Yves Tanguy's Reply To Red.

Technicians Of Spaceship Earth, This Is Your Captain Speaking...

2007-03-30T15:50:00.000Z

I strongly advise you to tune your TV to BBC4 at 9pm this evening as there's a rather fine sounding documentary on entitled Hawkwind: Do Not Panic.

I Keep Rewriting The Rant That I Was Going To Post Today, So, In The Meantime, Why Not Enjoy One Of Our Speciality Cocktails

2007-03-27T18:30:00.000Z

White Heaven - Strange Bedfellow (PSF)
Solar Anus - Skull Alcoholic (tUMULt)
Beherit - Drawing Down The Moon (Spinefarm)
Melechesh - Djinn (Osmose)
Majik Markers - The Voldoror Dance (Latitudes)
Pure - Fetor (Freak Animal)
Flower/Corsano Duo - The Radiant Mirror (Textile)
Magical Power Mako - Super Record (Polydor)
Archaia - Archaia (Soleil)
Zucanikan - Horse Republic (Pickled Egg)
Rudra - Kurukshetra (Trishul)
The Toll - Christ Knows (Broken Flag)
Neptune Towers - Caravans To Empire Algol/Transmissions From Empire Algol (Moonfog)
The Heads - 33 (Invada)
Eero Koivistoinen Music Society - Wahoo! (Warner Finland)
Harvester - Hemat (Silence)
Modulo 1000 - Nao Fale com Paredes (World In Sound)
Optical*8 - Bug/Gender (God Mountain)
Tivol - Early Teeth (Holy Mountain)
George Russell - Electronic Sonata For Souls Loved By Nature (Soul Note)

I'll be adding a media player to this blog soon too, so you can feast yr ears as you read...

And The Alan Partridge Award For Best Music Interview Goes To...

2007-03-08T16:54:00.000Z

That prize prick Zane Lowe for this toe-curling interview with Nick Cave and Warren Ellis of Grinderman from BBC2's Culture Show...

Venido a Esto, Va a Gobernar

2007-02-26T19:30:00.000Z

O yea, this will rule, I kid thee nott. Two top fucking notch acts, one rather fine film about Cornelius Cardew, plus the added bonus of myself and Professor J. Hieronymus Stanehard Cannonbury selecting tunes and playing them to you through speakers*, all bought to you courtesy of Plan B (and Morgen und Nite)'s Frances Morgan. It's at the Whitechapel Gallery too, which is a damn fine place, and the lovely folks there advise you to book for this one. I'd take their advice if I were you.

Fuck Me, That's A Whole Lotta Umlauts

2007-02-22T00:21:00.000Z

No, not some obscure metal band indulging in a rock dots frenzy, but the best word in any language ever*, the Turkish equivalent of cock-a-doodle-doo, the greatest onomatopeia of them all, and, without a doubt, the finest song title Magma never came up with:

üü-ürü-üüü

Genius.

*Except "plinth". And possibly "spatchcock"...

Ouzo-Fuelled Youtube Frenzy Vol.2: Look, Bored Drummer, Bad Sync and Questionable Bass Tuning

2007-02-09T01:41:00.000Z

I fucking hate everything Deep Purple ever recorded except for "Black Night", it's the only decent riff they ever played and they still had to rip it off of an Eddie Cochran B-Side. Tossers. But, Black Night does rock, so here's the appalingly mimed version from TOTP complete with the aforementioned awful sync and really fucking bored drummer...

And here's the same clip overdubed in japanese (music too!). Well, just the first verse but it is fucking funny:

Finally, here's a good live version, complete with staggeringly patronising engliish rock star talking to foreign audience intro and wildly out of tune bass:

Bonus special track for Joe. Dunno about you, but I think this rivals Sabbath Bloody Sabbath as The Sabs finest video:

Ouzo-Fuelled Youtube Frenzy Vol.1: Comets On Fire, Watch And Learn...

2007-02-08T20:32:00.000Z

Blue Cheer - Summertime Blues

Aaaaaaaaarrrrrgggggghhhhhhh. Genius. Excellent 60s DJ action too.

Quicksilver Messenger Service - Mona

A particularly vicious version, even by their standards.

Frijid Pink - Sing A Song For Freedom

Two things:

1. If y're going to turn into a classic rock band, at least have the fucking good grace to do it this well...

2. Nice guitar fella.

Orange Sunshine - Hush Hush

This Fucking Rocks. Nuff said.

Journeys Through The Psychedelic Hinterlands Pt.1: Synthesized Glossolalia & Possibly The Greatest Photo Of A Band Ever Taken

2007-01-29T15:34:00.000Z

I will actually get off my arse and do a proper long update post in the next few days, but in the meantime, enjoy this rare photo of the Concrete Rubber Band, bonkers psychedelic jesus freaks from Kansas, who specialized in synthed up, bible-bashing acid rock in the late 60s/early 70s, self-released one album that sold fuck-all and now goes for several trillion (insert local currency here) should, by some miracle (sorry), a copy turn up. Not that it's worth it, most of it's a bit shit, but it is worth tracking down a download of for the two tracks "What Shall We Do?" and "Wicked", the first of which storms in with a very unchristian sounding monster of a fuzzguitar solo over bubbling Arps and stupidly echoing drums before slowly morphing into a beautiful moody harmony vocal over a slow west-coast chug. It's "Wicked" that's the killer tho, a variation on the Bolero rhythm beloved of psych bands, pushed along by really repetetive krauty piano and organ stabs and smothered in wibbling, wubbing and womming synths and outrageously ring-modded guitar. It's fucking great and kicks the United States Of America's collective dick in the dirt as far as mixing electronic music and psychedelic rock goes, plus it contains a dirty great pitchbending burp of an analogue synth solo. The rest of the album has occasional flashes but just doesn't come close to those two songs, plus even though they mention Jesus approximately 800 times in each song, they don't sound like they mean it enough, and they try a bit hard with the song titles, which include such gems as "Christian", "Hosanna", "Risen Savior*", and my personal favourite, the stunningly original, "Jesus". All of which lack the pious simplicity of the greatest title of any religious record in history, the unforgettable "I'm A Mormon". If it's real fire and brimstone stuff you're after, the acid-rock equivaent of Ian Paisley, may I suggest you check out Moon Blood by Fraction, particularly the tracks "Eye Of The Hurricane" and "Sky High" which would sit rather nicely alongside early Pink Fairies, Shiver, Peacepipe and the like on any discerning soul's trashy hard-psych mixtape.

*They're American, of course they can't spell.

Coming soon: Part 2: Journey Into The Stone Cave With Moogs At The Ready To Battle The Technicolor Kebab, Or Maybe Something Else Because I'm Bound To Think Of A More Stupid Title Before I Write It...

Music You Can Smell & Chew

2006-12-05T17:17:00.000Z

Circle - Tyrant (Latitudes)
Phuture/DJ Pierre - Classix (Trax)
Khlyst - Chaos Is My Name (Hydra Head)
Massacre - Killing Time (ReR)
Boris - Mabuta No Ura (Essence)
Astral Social Club - s/t (VHF)
Gravitar - You Must First Learn To Draw The Real (Monotremata)
Manuel Gottsching - E2-E4 (Spalax)
Steffan Basho-Junghans - Late Summer Morning (Strange Attractors Audio House)
Magical Power Mako - Blue Dot (Atavistic)
Birchville Cat Motel - Siberian Earth Curve (Drunken Fish)
Tony Conrad - Joan Of Arc (Table Of The Elements)
Richard Youngs & Simon Wickham-Smith - Five Years (VHF)
Richard Youngs & Simon Wickham-Smith - Pulse Of The Rooster (VHF)
Peter Lang - The Thing At The Nursery Rooom Window (Takoma)
Alvin Lucier - Music On A Long Thin Wire (Lovely Music)
Pauline Oliveros - Primordial/Lift (Table Of The Elements)
Transmission - s/t (Table Of The Elements)
Maggotron - Maggotron Forever (Pandisc)
Titan - s/t (Paradigms)

Noisy Weekends In Scarborough

2006-11-21T20:40:00.000Z

Just in case you'd been wondering what they've been up to for the past ten years or so... I particularly like the vaguely threatening "no one leaves hungry" in the blurb, it just seems strangely apt.

Tiny Tractors Of Doom

2006-11-21T16:47:00.000Z

I've spent half of today beneath the surface of London. I wasn't stuck on the tube, but pelting round cable tunnels on a minature tractor laden down with enough safety equipment to make a sane person slightly concerned. Mile upon mile of weird black metal* tunnels that ring inner London to keep STUFF working. I love workdays like that. The only problem was that we couldn't take photos, not even of the gear we were working on due to security issues, which was a real shame, cos there's some weird shit beneath yr feet that you'd never even guess was there. Very Quatermass it was, I kept listening for eldritch slitherings and bubblings, but apart from the odd drip of water(?) and the occasional scurrying of rats(??) I didn't hear much, nothing at all in fact. It was so damn quiet down there the lack of sound seemed like a physical thing as opposed to just its absence. Some of these tunnels must be the most silent places in London outside of an anechoic chamber. It's only when the ambient noise y're used to is so thoroughly absent that you realise how efficient yr brain is at filtering the stuff out. When we finally emerged London suddenly seemed so much louder than I'd ever experienced it before, so I went for a wander instead of eating lunch, just listening to the weird moving interplay of harmonics and phase that surrounds us all the time and we never notice. London is a fucking amazing piece of music, you just have to stop and really listen for a while...

*I know. Bad unintentional pun there. It was pretty necro tho.

Call Me A Stoner...

2006-11-19T23:10:00.000Z

But this (false colour x-ray) picture of the Tycho supernova looks just like a fucking huge bud.

Hippos Can Be Goths Too

2006-11-02T14:27:00.000Z

A rare sighting of the surfing goth hippo (Hippopotamus Nephilimus).

Useless but surprising fact: The hippos closest living relative is the cetacean family, you know, whales and the like...

20 Ways To Annoy The Rubbish Harp Player Downstairs

2006-10-30T17:14:00.000Z

LSD March - Empty Rubious Red (Archive)
Rhys Chatham - Die Donnergötter (Radium)
Melechesh - Emissaries (Osmose)
Bukka White - Sky Songs (Arhoolie)
Maryanne Amacher - Sound Characters (Tzadik)
Solar Fire Trio - s/t (Invada)
Boris/Sunn - Altar (Southern Lord)
Keelhaul - II (Hydra Head)
Frank Lowe - Black Beings (ESP-Disk)
OOIOO - Taiga (Thrill Jockey)
Carbon - Datacide (Enemy)
Nachtmystium - Instinct: Decay (Battle Kommand)
Virgil Moorefield - The Temperature In Hell Is Over 3000 Degrees (Tzadik)
Soilent Green - Pussysoul (Dwell)
The Heads - Under The Stress Of A Headlong Dive (Invada)
Kraftwerk - Ralf & Florian (Bootleg)
Melt Banana - MXBX 1998: 13000 Miles At Light Velocity (Tzadik)
Frank Wright Trio - The Earth (ESP-Disk)
Hawkwind - Warrior On The Edge Of Time (UA)
At The Gates - The Red In The Sky Is Ours (Peaceville)

Fuck Stockhausen

2006-10-24T13:14:00.000Z

This is way better...

¡Acción Caliente Del Jazz!/Hello Ray

2006-10-24T12:24:00.000Z

Julian Cope, a man of impeccable musical (if not sartorial) taste, has chosen as his album of the month Solar Fire Trio 's eponymous LP on Invada Records. Two sides of serious fucking shitkicking sax/sax/drums heads down freeblurt that roars out of the speakers like some long-forgotten ESP-Disk trio who've mainlined that same vein of fuck off that fuelled the Blue Cheer of Come And Get It/Just A Little Bit. God it's good.

Get yr arses over to Mr Cope's lovely website and listen for yrselves. Read his rather fine review too, it's really good, and the main reason I couldn't be arsed to write my own. Then go and buy the record. No, fuck that, buy two, because then you can listen to both sides at once.

Doctor Marburg, There's Trouble In The Monkey House...

2006-10-03T14:16:00.000Z

It's not Simian Fever though, just the unbelievably archaic self-erasing, randomly collapsing database at work. It's limping along like the guy in the Jackass movie who stuck a toy car up his arse for an x-ray. The stunning level of boredom which is often reached in our office when said computer system slows down to had-cranked babbage speeds means we have far too much spare time today. So, instead of arseing around on the interweb all day, we invented a new game. Extreme Petanque*. The rules are the same, but instead of a jack you drive a large earthing spike into a suitable patch of grass and for the boules we found a much better alternative. Fucking huge toroidal transformers**. The rules are exactly the same, except you have to stand quite a way further back than you would normally before chucking the bastards as you can get a hell of a lot more momentum when you throw 'em, and 'cos you hold them with your fingers through the hole in the middle, their trajectory can be somewhat wayward, plus they don't half fucking roll if they hit the ground edgewise. A perfect game for a balmy evening. If you have a fucking huge garden or are just into indiscrimnate destruction that is.

*Or boules, or whatever the French version of bowls is called.

**The doughnut shaped ones you find in nice hi-fi amps, just much bigger...

A Spectrum Beyond Black

2006-09-29T16:14:00.000Z

Much as I love metal and it's myriad subgenres, it suffers from one big sonic problem in particular, namely an extreme paucity of imagination when it comes to guitar sounds. Playing thrash or death? Boost the bass and the treble, cut the mid and compress it to fuck. Worked fine for Slayer et al in the 80s, but come on people, that was 20-odd fucking years ago, surely you could have thought of some new sounds by now. Just because you've spent ages writing an incredibly convoluted series of riffs and chord progressions it doesn't mean you can then just drag out the same fucking guitar sound as everyone else.

Black metal is probably the worst offender in this respect, 90% of bands having that same buzzing droning Peavy amp with the midrange and presence redlined guitar tone*. Done right its an awesome sound, but Beherit, Darkthrone, Burzum** and all the other old school loons patented that sound a long time ago. Obviously there have always been exceptions to the rule, like Enslaved or Blut Aus Nord, but you've always had to search through a mountain of shit to find the blackened pearls underneath.

But there is hope (obviously not contained within the grooves of the records, this is BM after all) in the shape of groups like Melechesh, Haemoth, Meads Of Asphodel, Nortt and in particular, the USBM underground hordes such as Xasthur, Absu, Leviathan/Lurker Of Chalice and my current favourites, Nachtmystium, whose new album, Instinct: Decay (Battle Kommand/Southern Lord) is a whirling blackened kaleidescope of throbbing and flailing psychedelic brutality. And when I say psychedelic, I mean it in the true sense of the word, this really is some mind-expanding shit. Imagine (the sadly defunct) Craft getting Helios Creed and Simon House in on guitar and synths respectively, allied to a skill for songwriting and arrangement that's still all too rare in what passes for the "experimental" end of BM. Expansive and dynamic, Nachtmystium's pallette is broad enough to encompass some truly stunning acoustic passages that avoid the normal "folkloric" pit that too many BM groups fall into alongside Barrettesque echo laden disorientation and some monstrously good spacerocking that Hawkwind would have been proud of alongside the normal icy tremolo guitar, throat-shredding shrieking and bellowing and drums of splintering bone. The fact the fact that the intro sounds like it could have been lifted from a prime Chrome album doesn't hurt either. Nactmystium have raised the fucking bar with this release. Go listen.

*The worst offenders D.I. their guitars in the studio. Dudes, this shit is supposed to be heavy. If you ain't got any fucking air moving your sound ain't gonna have any weight.

**Yes, I know that Grishnackh is a convicted murderer and a hideous cross between Hitler and Phillip Glass, who makes atrocious digital synth viking-ambient records from prison***, but the vile little fucker did make a few killer albums before going completely fucking apeshit crazy.

***Which some could use as evidence in an argument against liberal prison regimes...

Mr Blessed Blue Wings

2006-09-28T14:04:00.000Z

We all have a little corner of our record collections that other people just shake their heads at. Many people find my love of Lynyrd Skynyrd and the Allman Brothers completely inexplicable, and I in turn am guilty of similar eye-rolling behaviour and piss-taking whenever I come across ELP, Yes, Genesis or (insert name of other macrobiotic muching neoclassical progwankers here) in friends record collections. So it's always reassuring when you discover that even the mightiest of musicians listen to some real toe-curling bollocks when no-one's looking. Sometimes they even name their bands after said shite. For instance, I was reading this rather fine interview with Des Kensal, High On Fire's drum maniac, over at PitRiff.com, and made the horrifically brilliant discovery that HOF are named after a fucking ELO song, namely Fire On High. Who'da thunk it?

The Doctor Is Back, Not That He Ever Really Went Away...

2006-09-20T12:05:00.000Z

Back to normal blogging service now, and I don't mean that I've fixed my spacebar*.

It was pointed out to me that my guitars tend to breed when I'm not looking, and the electrics have been it like knives again. The guitar stork will be dropping the baby on the left down my chimney sometime in the next month or so. I know. I don't need another guitar. But fucking hell, look at that bastard. The Gibson Firebird is still, for me anyways, the single most beautiful (solid body) electric guitar ever and even if it sounded like shit I'd still have to get one. Fortunately it sounds like heaven with a bottleneck, possibly even better than my '56 Gold Top, which, given that the first time I plugged that sucker into the Orange, slipped a slide on my finger and let rip it sounded exactly like Elmore James, is fucking going some.

Greenwich is a random place to live sometimes. Particularly on No Car Day. Woman in silver unitard** and matching hat attached to giant silvery-white globe helium balloon doing acrobatics anyone? The appearance of a man riding a metal elephant mounted atop an electric go-kart with a motor so weedy he needed his mate to give him a bit of a shove over a 3inch high speed bump being followed by a fat kid on a BMX*** making hooting noises every time the elephant trumpeted was pretty good, but my favourite moment was the arrival of the heavenly rapid response unit. We were sitting dozily in the sun, on the steps of the old naval college between the chapel and the painted hall, when the sound of classical music could be heard getting increasingly louder from somewhere hidden off to the right. I thought no more of this until an angel on wheels**** (not a bike, parallel wheels) whizzed along the path in front of us at a fair old clip, pausing only to do a quick 360 and to chat briefly to some tourists before speeding off on presumably holy business elsewhere, all the while blaring the aforementioned classical music from it's arse. It was one of those moments where you turn to each other and say "did you see that too?" at exactly the same time, and are deeply reassured to find out that, yes, they did, meaning that either you're both equally crazy (this is a distinct possibility) or an angel on wheels did just whizz past...

*No, I'm still having to paste spaces and a few punctuation marks in because I still haven't bought a new keyboard after my old one decided to succumb to alcoholism. As to the back to normal service bit, if you know what I mean you know what I mean and if you don't you're not meant to. Nosy sods.

**Alright, it was a leotard, but leotard isn't nearly as snigger-inducing a word as unitard.

***BMXs (how do you pluralise BMX? Fucked if I know) always look too small for the person riding them, no matter how tiny they are. WhatTheFuck? The other thing to bear in mind is this was on a practically deserted backstreet.

****Not a hell's one either, but one with wings and halo and shit.

Twenty Albums To Enjoy Kippers With

2006-09-13T10:55:00.000Z

Skullflower - Tribulation (Crucial Blast)
Armando - Trax Classix (Trax)
False - False (Plus 8)
Mastodon - Blood Mountain (Reprise)
Various - BC01 (Basic Channel)
Bo Diddley - His Best (Chess)
Ramleh - Homeless (Freek)
Phuture - Classix (Trax)
Ellen Allien - Thrills (Bpitch Control)
Plastikman - Closer (M_Nus)
Boss Hog - Girl+ (Amphetamine Reptile)
Various - Acid Classix (Trax)
Rory Gallagher - Live In Europe (Capo)
Blight - Detroit (Touch'n'Go)
Various - Pebbles Vol.5: Various Morons (AIP)
Christian Vogel - Rescate 137 (Novamute)
Hound Dog Taylor - Natural Boogie (Alligator)
Art - Supernatural Fairy Tales (Island)
Silverfish - Organ Fan (Creation)
Ellen Allien & Apparat - The Bubble Orchestra (BPitch Control)

BewareTheBunny

2006-09-04T20:13:00.000Z

ISpillBeerOnMyKeyboardOnce AndTheFuckingSpaceBarStopsWorking, SoHowComeThisFuckersStillWorks?

2006-09-04T20:05:00.001Z

Hehehehehehehehe

2006-08-29T12:34:00.000Z

This is what the interweb's all about. Stupidity run rampant. And sites don't come much more stupid than Cats That Look Like Hitler.com. I would link it for you, but my fucking stupid office computer seems to have some sort of problem with Bloggers javascripts, so you'll have to go to all the trouble of typing in www.catsthatlooklikehitler.com. Sorry 'bout that but I'm sure it won't hurt yr fingers too much...

Enjoy.

The Best Thing About Google Is...

2006-08-29T12:08:00.000Z

Its astoundingly shit translation program. I was looking up stuff on the glorious (and seemingly forgotten) album Supernatural Fairy Tales by Art (who later became Spooky Tooth and went downhill real fucking fast) when I came across a review on Rocktimes.de in German. Now I could have sat there and slowly translated the bugger myself, but being a lazy sod sometimes, I thought I'd let Google do the werk for me. This is what happened...

Kind/superatueral Fairy of valley*

In the summer 1963 Jimmy Henshaw (guitar, key boards) created, walter John clay/tone (drums), franc Kenyan (guitar) and the former office worker Mike Harrison (vocals) in Carlisle (northwest England) a Beat/R&B Combo with that little modest name The V.I.P. 's.A little later still Greg Ridley (bass) pushed in addition which had already made music with the Ramrods as well as Mike Harrison. The latter still provided beside the Vocals for the bluesigen sounds on the harmonica. The volume brought 1964 out on “RCA” its debut single “Don't Keep Shouting RK Me/She's NO Good” and let afterwards still three Singles with “CBS” (under the misleading volume designation The VIPPS) and/or the Chris Blackwell label “Iceland record”, produced from the house producer Guy of Stevens, follow.The Joe Tex number “I Wanna developed Free” to a local mini hit and conquered in France Chartposition 3! This had the consequence that the V.I.P. 's in France with the “Fontana” - label altogether 4 EP's brought out. Otherwise they were promoted between 1965 and 1966 to a Londoner club attraction and gave regular Gigs in the Hamburg one “star club”.

End of 1966 finally pushed Luther Grosvenor (guitar, vocals), Mike Kellie (drums) and a certain Keith Emerson at the keys to volume and replaced Henshaw, John clay/tone and Kenyan. They are on the later photographs of the V.I.P's like “Stagger Lee” to hear “Rosemarie” or “Late Night Blues (incoming goods incoming goods Hours)” outstanding interpreted (Blues/R&B/Soul) Songs, as also for example the Howling wolf classical author “Smokestack Lightning” taken up somewhat in former times, which lets quite listen attentively.The voice of Mike Harrison comes here at the best one more rüber, has somewhat completely special and was thus quasi sign this unfortunately much too little considered Combo. But the musical development did not stand still. Those in the long run somewhat simply knitted Beatmusik and the R&B/Soul interpretations and/or Adaptionen moved so slow into the background, instead harder, psychedelische sounds were ever more announced. So also with the V.I.P. 's.Harrison wanted heavier tones, Keith Emerson had other conceptions and disappeared from direction The Nice. The Quartet remaining now called itself short hand in kind over and got immediately the opportunity to be able to bring in for “Iceland record” a complete album and this chance could young certainly not be escaped.

Apparent chemistry between the four was correct, because fast were written, finished twelve titles, all of the complete volume for the photograph session. As (“Iceland record” house) a producer again Guy of Stevens, a Könner of its subject cared for and equipped with some experience, the photographs. The psychedelische Cover was provided by Hapshash and the Coloured Coat. One left oneself for the album in this “buzzer OF Love 1967” thus to nothing the coincidence, particularly also “Iceland” - Boss Chris Blackwell personally around the volume cared.

The musical change desired was radically converted. The Beat rhythms disappeared completely from the scene and by raue, hard guitar sounds were replaced. Also the Harmonika remained outside forwards, because the Bluesstandards belonged to the past. Instead there were tones on the ears, which partly sounded like Vanilla Fudge (one heard only times in “I Think I'm Going Weired” purely), on the other hand in addition, represented somewhat completely own.
Completely amazingly was also the versatility of the individual pieces. Apart from the heavy, sluggish titles, for those Luther Grosvenor's Klampfe the clay/tone indicated (“Room With A View”) got one nearly tender acoustic Songs as for instance “Flying Anchor” and “Love Is material” on the shell. Under the appropriate title “African Thing” was allowed to live it up and show the rhythm department with an expanded Percussionteil correctly, in them was which qualities. Naturally speed was gebolzt also times correctly. Best example of it is “Come on UP”. In addition there was a Song, whose Refrain had nearly an ear worm character with “What That sound”.

Altogether it becomes completely clear on this album that here four musicians had been, full ideas put and these also perfectly to convert understood. Naturally yet everything had not fully developed, which one can recognize among other things on the shortness of the individual titles. There was still enough area for longer improvisations. But also that was soon repaired, because immediately after this production the American Keyboarder and Shouter Gary WRIGHT that followed volume. With it at the organ and Mike Harrison at the Piano became the sound still more versatile, particularly since the two became detached also with the Leadgesang.
Thus next renaming was forthcoming, which provided now for the final break-through in the Rockbusiness: Spooky Tooth, so the new name that volume, took up altogether seven Studioalben, with which they wrote music history. But that is again completely different history.

*How the fuck it came up with that as a translation of the title I cannot fathom. Glad it did though.

Helada Céltica

2006-08-17T13:05:00.000Z

Oh, yes. Saturday. I'm quite excited about this. The triumphant live return of Celtic Frost. OOOGH!! Myself and Mess will of course be there to witness the onstage resurrection of the legendary avant-thrash funsters. Drinking, headbanging, drinking, moshing, drinking and drunken bellowing of lyrics will be the order of the night. All together now, HEYYYYY!!!

Some Music With That Sir?

2006-08-17T12:26:00.000Z

Chrome - Live (Unknown)
Speedy J - Ginger (Warp)
Om/Current 93 - Split (Durtro/Neurot)*
Fluxion - Vibrant Forms 1+2 (Chain Reaction)
John Martyn - Live At Leeds (One World)
Budgie - An Ecstasy Of Fumbling (Repertoire)
Infiniti - Skynet (Tresor)
The Up! - Complete Recordings (Total Energy)
Helios Creed - The Last Laugh (Amphetamine Reptile)
Muddy Waters - The Real Folk Blues (Chess)
Loop - A Gilded Eternity (Situation 2)
Ghost Feet - Tiny Feet Of Doom (Starecase)
Blue Cheer - Live At The Fillmore (Bootleg)
Ramleh - Works III (Dirter)
Makato Kawabata - Inui 1 (VHF)
Albert Ayler - Music Is The Healing Force Of The Universe (Impulse!)
Clear Blue Sky - s/t (Vertigo)
High Tide - Precious Cargo (Arkarma)
Cat Butt - Journey To The Centre Of... (Sub Pop)
Hammerhead - Duh, The Big City (Amphetamine Reptile)

*Truth be told, I'm only listening to the Om side of this, because the Current 93 side is, unsurprisingly, utter crap. I'd have far more respect for Current if Mr Tibet would just admit he is Jasper Carrot (have you ever seen them in the same place?) and get on with making a stunningly pretentious apocalyptic folk reworking of his finest moment, Funky Moped.

Spatchcock!

2006-08-10T10:25:00.000Z

Is another of my favourite words. Mainly 'cos I like the idea of a method of chicken preperation which sounds like a mediaeval name for some vile disease of the male genitals closely related to trench foot. I also tend to buy spatchcock chicken if I go to the 24hr supermarkent when stoned. Not because I like to eat it (which I do), but because I'm irresistibly drawn to food and drink with really stupid names. Maybe I'll invent a new dish called Beef Bastard.

I Was Going To Write An Epic Post, But...

2006-08-02T12:03:00.000Z

I'm fucking knackered. So, adventures in Morris Dancing, lists of musical wrongness/righteousness, why watching Clerks again reminded me of the (deservedly) outrageous manner in which certain customers got dealt with when "The Old Firm" still ruled the roost at HMV and lots of other crap will have to wait a day or two. I will say this though, the new Comets On Fire album is fucking weedy bollocks. One good song, two and a half minutes long, forty odd minutes of weak shite that sounds like a cross between Wishbone Ash and Kansas with a side order of fucking Black Crowes. But I shall elaborate further in the next post, cos my brain can't quite muster the enthusiasm needed to administer the fucking kicking that this limp excuse for southern-fried psuedopsych deserves.

Magic Nose Goblins

2006-07-18T12:47:00.000Z

Yes it's fucking hot. And I fucking love it. My brain has shut down for the day and decided it's not coming out to play until it's been plied with several glasses of icy sloe gin and tonic. Put simply, the combination of beautiful weather and my unusually good mood has turned me into Stimpy*, because thinking is frankly too much like hard work at the moment, as, for that matter, is work itself. Plus I've just spent an irritating 45 minutes trying to send one bastard email only for the fucking browser to crash every single bloody time I try. Normally this would provoke unbelievable amounts of despicable language, and possible damage to both computer and foot, but it's too damn hot to get electronirage, plus it's hard to get angry when you've got a big stoopid grin on your face. Also. I do tend to stick my tongue out when I'm concentrating, so apart from the fact that I'm not a cat and don't have a blue nose, my expression is worryingly similar to that of Stimpson J. Cat above. Time to go and sit by the river with a fucking big drink.

*Go and beg, steal or borrow the first two series of Ren & Stimpy if you know it not, cos it's still the finest example of animated stupidity ever if you ask me. On the other hand, if you're a fan too, why not sing along to the log song with me...

"It's Lo-og, Lo-og, it's big, it's heavy, it's wood,
It's Lo-og, Lo-og, it's better than bad, it's good!"

20 Pieces Of Delicious Brainfood

2006-07-10T11:52:00.000Z

Josephine Foster - Wolf In Sheeps Clothing (Locust)
Harvey Milk - Singles (Relapse)
Various - Min2Max (Minus)
Everlovely Lightningheart - Cusp (Hydrahead)
Pharoah Sanders - Iphizo Zam (Strata East)
Caravan - If I Could Do It All Over Again, I'd Do It All Over You (Deram)
Tony Conrad - Slapping Pythagoras (Table Of The Elements)
Skullflower - Obsidian Shaking Codex (RRR)
Fred McDowell - Long Way From Home (Milestone)
Susanna Deyhim - Madmen Of God (Crammed)
Boredoms - Seadrum (Warner Japan)
John Coltrane - Om (Impulse!)
Allman Brothers - Eat A Peach (Capricorn)
Tusk - Tree Of No Return (Tortuga)
Slowbone - Live 72 (Bootleg)
Chrome - Read Only Memory (Siren)
Hatfield & The North - The Rotters Club (Virgin)
Th' Faith Healers - Lido (Too Pure)
Various - Congotronics Vol.2 (Crammed)
Peter Green - The End Of The Game (Reprise)

Operating Outside Normal Design Parameters

2006-07-05T12:44:00.000Z

My job kicks arse. This weather is fucking wonderful. Unfortunately the combination of the two can be fucking evil. Particularly if y're already in a somewhat arsey mood and covered in stinking grease. Ever had to work in a fucking glass lift shaft on a day as hot as yeaterday? Probably not. A word of advice; Don't. I have no problem with temperatures of over 120F if i'm on a fucking boat or something, but I could do without it in what's essentially a fucking vertical greenhouse. Only without the plants.

Hahahahahahahahahaha!

2006-07-02T13:55:00.000Z

Call Of The Wintermoon by Immortal. Words fail me. I laughed so hard at the last minute or so I was sick. Check out Horghs evil wizard outfit. Classy.

All Together Now, "Ride The Dragon Toward The Crimson Eye, Flap The Wings Under Mars Red Sky"

2006-07-02T12:55:00.000Z

God I love Youtube. I hadn't seen this in fucking years. In case you hadn't guessed from the foolish lyrics quoted above, it's the promo to Dragonaut by Sleep. You don't need to know me that well to understand the importance this group hold for me, so I'm not going to bang on too much. Suffice to say, this is heavy as fuck, grooves like a bastard and is the greatest piece of music about riding dragons in space ever. Plus it also boasts Al Cisneros' patented peculiar sproinging bass sound that comes across like a warped Geezer playing through Bootsy Collins' rig. Enjoy.

They Live In Shelters Beneath The Sky And Drink In Cold Starlight

2006-07-02T11:10:00.000Z

Although I'm at a bit of a low ebb, for a number of reasons, this entry is still going to concentrate on something positive in an attempt to stop me wallowing. And that positive something is the reformation of Thor's Helmet.

Oh yes. TH is back, and there will be gigs this time, and a cd available to anyone mad enough to want one, which will probably have the following "songs" on it...

1. Crucified Galaxy
2. Snakeskin Woman
3. NGC 2359
4. Planet Fucker
5. Malachandria

Last time it all fell apart, mainly due to my exceedingly fucked-up state of mind at the time, not to mention a collective capacity for alcoholic excess and strange behaviour which made us somewhat unwelcome at several rehearsal studios. But I'm nowhere near as fucked-up as this time last year and TH has some serious unfinished business. So even if the gigs and album end up just being a good way to lay the project to rest, or we actually manage to carry on this time, I can't fucking wait to play that fucking riff from Malachandria again. As Alan Partridge said, let's hope it all doesn't end in blind, ugly violence...

I Know Load Records Are The New Amrep, But This Is Taking The Piss

2006-06-30T16:41:00.000Z

I hear Tar. I hear Halo Of Flies. I hear Helmet, Scratch Acid and Rapeman, I hear Swallow and Blood Circus. Fuck me, I hear Tad and Bastards. Even the late and much lamented* Green Magnet School. Bitch Magnet, Lubricated Goat and Hammerhead and Chokebore... Need I go on? The new Noxagt (self-titled, Load Records) album is great, but it's an Amphetamine Reptile/Touch'n'Go/Wiiija Tribute album that's come about thirteen years too late. It's heavy. It's angular. It's discordant. Tight as a gnat's arse. No wasted notes...

No original ones either, and that's what disappoints. In replacing their departed viola loon with a guitarist, Noxagt have thrown themselves into the arena of possibly the most exacting of all "rock" line ups, the power trio, where yr musicianship is exposed to a greater extent and any paucity of ideas is right in the listeners face. In 1993, this album would have become an instant Pigfuck classic, but today, it sounds like an unecessary exercise in nostalgia, the product of a band who've discovered a stack of old Sounds back issues and are now attempting to sound like every band ever covered in the old Sound Of Speed column**. If this record had been made by a bunch of spotty 17 year olds, I could forgive it it's shortcomings, but it's by Noxagt for fucks sake, a band whose first two albums of grinding viola-led sludge encrusted muck sounded like nothing else recorded*** and left me with a big dumbfuck grin on my face which I had to remove with a stanley knife. The new guy on guitar has no excuse either, after all he's also Ultralyds guitarist, and he seems to be perfectly capable of realising a few new perspectives on the ancient art of guitar mangling on their stuff.

Don't get me wrong, this is a fucking good record, but it should have been so much more. Shame.

*By me anyways...

**Yeah, I know this makes me sound like an old git. I don't care.

***Except for a couple of tracks on Dying Ground's one release on Avant, but that motherfucker is a whole other kettle of sick. Remind me to write about that sometime...

Bad And Wicked People...

2006-06-27T16:41:00.000Z

I'm listening to this right now at fucking stupid volume. Fuck, it's so, so good.

Hardcore Sweet Action

2006-06-24T13:16:00.000Z

China White lollipops anyone? Just as well you can't buy these fuckers from the sweet shop...

Extreme Spacehopper Anyone? I've Got The Soundtrack...

2006-06-21T11:29:00.000Z

Skullflower - Infinityland (HeadDirt)
Dave Angel - Classics (R&S)
Juan Atkins - The Berlin Sessions (Tresor)
Aufgehoben No Process w/Gary Smith - Magnetic Mountain (Junior Meat)
Hawkwind - The 1999 Party (EMI)
Chrome - Chronicles I & II (Siren)
Shifted Phases - The Cosmic Memoirs Of The Late Rupert J. Rosinthrope (Tresor)
Mouse On Mars - Iahora Tahiti (Too Pure)
Blue Cheer - OutsideInside (Mercury)
Sisters Of Mercy - Some Girls Wander By Mistake (Merciful Release)
Sleep's Holy Mountain (Earache)
Orange Sunshine - Homo Erectus (Motorwolf)
Mammatus - Mammatus (Rocket)
White Heaven - Out (PSF)
Slab - Slab (Release)
Dillinger Escape Plan - Calculating Infinity (Relapse)
Ramleh - Be Careful What You Wish For (SFTRI)
Heldon - Allez-Teia (Spalax)
Boris - Mabuta No Ura (Essence)

Hayfever Fuck Off

2006-06-20T14:22:00.000Z

If I wanted to end up with torrents of snot pouring from my red-raw nose, eyes so bloodshot and dry they feel like they've been wrung out and a suspected collapsed lung then I'd be doing hydrochloride meth cut with fucking drain cleaner, at least I'd have the energy to run totally amok. I am, as you may have guessed, not in a particularly good mood. Not that I'm going to tell you for why, cos aside from the hayfever and normal everyday werk shite, I'm in such a foul temper that I will say exactly the wrong thing, piss off exactly the wrong people and generally make a cunt of myself in a public manner. So yeah, not best pleased at the moment. I'll be alright when I can get home and lock myself in the fridge* until I cool off. A gallon of Pimm's and a lump of hash the size of a golfball should hopefully calm me down a little. Fuck it, I'm going home...

*Does the light go off? Soon the great mystery will be solved!

The Heaviest Thing Ever

2006-06-19T12:05:00.000Z

There is heavy, there is heavy, then there is this. Sure you've got yr Earth 2s and yr Jerusalems and yr Lysols and yr Revenges and all the other great heavy shit, but they all pale into insignificance whn they come up against Infinityland by the immortal Skullflower. This is the closest thing to crucifixion most people will ever get, every drum a new nail, guitars splintering like brittle bones, each torrent of brainfucking noise another sputtering river of blood cut loose from the fleshy prison of the music. Harder, faster and just fucking nastier than anything else they've done, if anyone really wants to know how affecting, how dense, how emotional, how overwhelming noise really can be, play them this album. It contains the triple whammy of White Fang 2, Abraxas and Blood Orange, a trio of songs which make me feel as if I've had my brain pulled out through my nose with hooks and the cavity filled with psychedelic yeti sick. Obviously this makes me very happy. Find it, buy it and die a little in the best possible way.

A Lesson To Us All

2006-06-19T11:52:00.000Z

This is how you deal with stressful situations. I don't know who this guy is, but the fucker's got style.

Sorry...

2006-06-19T11:44:00.000Z

Is this the least PC drinking establishment ever? I'm guessing they have a ruthlessly enforced dress code...

This Fucking Beer's Green! I Know, It's Supposed To Be Green. I'll Drink It If You Don't Want It...

2006-06-19T10:41:00.000Z

Back at fucking work again. I've just spent the last 9 days doing absolutely sweet fuck all except spending too much time in the pub, assaulting the eardrums of my neighbours, mainlining the usual huge quantities of music, films and books and trying to behave myself*. This weekend will be fondly remembered as green beer weekend. Because a lot of green beer** was consumed. When I say green, I don't mean that it was brewed using only organic ingredients (although it was), nor do I mean that it's all natural and lovely and unpasteurised (although it is). No, when I say green, I mean green as in the colour green, a deliciously dry and hoppy ale that happens to be a beautiful grassy green colour as well as being easier to drink than iced water in the desert. I can only apologise to the poor sods who are neighbours of the Quality Bureaux***. We understand that the sight of four obviously drug addled fools arseing around on the roof is not the most reassuring vista at half three on a sunday morning, but as my mate John pointed out, seeing a drunken twat standing on his roof doing air guitar (and bass) to Hatfield and the North**** actually makes a pleasant change to the normal saturday night sights in Croydon, i.e. fights, stabbings and the traditional Crown Point pitched battle/semi-riot which normally kicks off about 2am. Looked at in that light, getting drunk on green beer could almost be seen as a public service, albiet of a faintly nebulous and surreal bent, but fuck it, if we made one person laugh that can't be all bad can it?

*Not a hugely successful attempt, but then again, why break the habit of a lifetime?

**Spring Ale, can't remember the brewery, but you might find it in yr local fine ale emporium over the next few weeks.

***The real name of a friends house. Not an appropriate one tho considering his kitchen is much, much more untidy than mine. And smells of fish.

****Not actually a joke...

On Beautiful Days Like This, I Really Wish I Was A Happy Cat

2006-06-09T15:05:00.000Z

I definitely have the feline solar power genes. I'm sitting behind my desk, bored shitless and cursing the crap air conditioning, feeling very jealous of the state of absolute and totally undignified relaxation that cats seem to be able to reach when the sun blazes down. The cat in the photo above is Rhoda, one of the Important Kittens*. If you follow the link you can meet the others too. Be warned, they are extremely cute and you will go "awwww" a lot.

*Important is a rather fantastic record label, putting out lots of lovely stuff like Hototogisu and Vibracathedral Orchestra which I urge you to buy, but even if everything they released was bollocks it wouldn't matter, cos they rescued the little balls of fluff and foolishness who became the Important Kittens.

My Inner Tart

2006-06-08T11:40:00.000Z

Fuck. Look at 'em. So very wrong on so many levels. Want them. Furry fucking buffalo skin loafers? Genius. I've owned all sorts of foolish footwear, but these even beat my old lizard skin boots which I wore till the soles actually fell off. I want these shoes so much even though small children would probably point at them in the street and laugh. I've never let that stop me before and I'll be fucked if I'm going to start now. Although I would draw the line at matching trousers...

Mucky Boys

2006-06-08T10:53:00.000Z

On the 3rd of July, the peace of the river at Embankment is going to be rudely shattered when London's gnarliest, grodiest and downright motherfuckin' rudest improv power trio will repeat their triumphant debut at the Klinker in front of, hopefully, you lucky bastards at the marvellous Boat Ting at the Yacht Club, Temple pier, right opposite Embankment station. Yep, you can thrill once more to the glory that is Bedshitting. On a boat. So I guess that makes it Boatshitting. Once again JCP will be doing the deconstruction boogie with the amazing collapsing drumkit whilst Hugh's violin slithers and coils like an epilleptic electric eel and I hack, retch and heave up lumps of projectile guitar cattarh all over the place. Imagine (Fred Frith's) Massacre fighting in a sack with the Magic Band and a lot of really angry (and very large) kittens. It sounds a little like that. But not much. Not a gig for the weak of stomach or bladder. You're going to love it. And as I said, it's on a nice boat between the Waterloo and Blackfriars bridges, it'll cost you a fiver, or £2.50 conc, plus there will be all sort of other sonic/poetic/visual/arty loveliness for you to sink yr brain into.

So, Shall I Stick A Broom Up Me Arse And Sweep The Floor While I'm At It?

2006-06-06T11:36:00.000Z

Or perhaps I should make like an amoeba and undergo binary fission till there's enough of me to actually do the fucking stupid amount of werk that I've had dumped on me this week. This may come as some surprise to the people I werk for, but I'm not a Vedic deity or asura and therefore only have two arms, not eight or more... Oh, and any fucknut who uses the word 'urgent' to me when they really mean 'this has been sitting in my in-tray for several weeks and the deadline is rapidly drawing near and I haven't got a clue how to find my arse in the dark with a torch, let alone decipher this circuit diagram/G.A. drawing./contract/tender/whatthefuckever, please help me sort my life out in the next two picoseonds' will receive one of the following replies:

1. No (if I feel kindly, not fuckin' likely at the moment)
2. A massive volley of minutely detailed and extravagantly verbose abuse. (Most likely answer)
3. A severe and protracted beating with the fucking huge stillson wrench (see top left) which leans against my desk at all times in readiness for the day my fucking steam driven abacus gives up the ghost and I can smash it into tiny, tiny pieces. (Reserved for repeat offenders)

I'm In The Office And Really Fucking Bored. Can You Tell? Anyway, Here's That Now Photo

2006-06-02T15:15:00.000Z

Told you. Mid-80s euro-metal hair. Jeebus fucking Christ. This is what happens when you have dreads down to yr arse and decide to get rid of them using a pair of garden shears and a small rake instead of shaving the fuckers off like a normal person... I would also like to point out that even then I owned more than one shirt, contrary to the evidence of the last two posts.

What The Fuck Have I Got In My Gob?

2006-06-02T13:16:00.000Z

Any ideas? Cos I'm stumped. All I know is this photo is a few years old, I'm obviously off of my tits, it was probably taken at Langham Rd, possibly after a Superfluid rehearsal. Other than that my mind's a blank. What the fuck is it? A big tube of Araldite to the person who can identify and prove what it is...

Coming soon, the picture of Now live somewhere or other where my hair looks it would rather be playing 'The Final Countdown' than the groovesome krautmonster we were probably mid way through at the time...

Music To Deglue To

2006-06-02T12:48:00.000Z

Helios Creed - Deep Blue Love Vacuum (Noiseville)
Various - Pebbles Vol.3: The Acid Gallery (AIP)
I.A. Bericochea - Sueño (Rojo)
Messiaen - Turangalila Symphony (Naxos)
Pharoah Overlord - 4 (Ektro)
Mahalia Jackson - Complete Columbia Recordings (Columbia)
Black Sabbath - Live In Paris 1970 (Bootleg)
Chrome - Blood On The Moon (Siren)
Model 500 - Classics (R&S)
OLD - Formula (Earache)
Jefferson Airplane - Bless It's Pointed Little Head (RCA)
High On Fire - Live (Relapse)
Scott Walker - Drift (4AD)
Hototogisu - Floating Japanese Gardens Ooof! (REP)
Xenakis - La Légende d'Eer (Mode)
Various - M2M (Minus)
Chas Smith - Descent (Cold Blue)
Howlin' Wolf - New Blues (Chess)
Pelt - Skullfuck (VHF)
Carl Craig - Landcruising (WEA)

Todo Huele De Araldite

2006-06-02T11:51:00.000Z

I haven't been sniffing glue, honest. It's the shit I have to spray up my nose twice a day to keep the dreaded pollen beast at bay, Fluticasone Propionate* it's called. Makes the whole world smell of 70s glue. I could be standing in front of a huge pot of the most wonderful curry in the world, bubbling away under my nose, and would I be able to smell it? Would I fuck, the whole fucking world smells like Araldite. I couldn't even smell the Tate & Lyle sugar refinery in Silvertown this morning and on a bad day you can smell that fucker for 3 or 4 miles. You know what I could smell though? Yep...

It's all I can taste too, which is weird. Even spliffs and cigs taste of it, I'm living in epoxyworld at the moment. Maybe if I just shoved one tube up one nostril and the other up the other**... No, it would make huffin' stuff a bit tricky. And breathing. And smelling. Plus I really do draw the line at solvent abuse. Well, that and tropane alkaloids, which are another story altogether***

*The dosage of this suff is tiny, 50 micrograms a snort, which makes me wonder just how strong this shit is, cos the only things that spring to mind with similarly low active dosages are my old mates LSD-25 and Salvinorin-A...

**The other up the other... hmmmmm, I shall store that phrase away until such times as... anyway...

***And not one that I'm telling you bastards just yet.

Total Fucking Sacrelige

2006-05-26T14:29:00.000Z

Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to lose a seriously important part of our (South) London heritage. The Young's Brewery is going to shut cos they're merging with Charles Wells and relocating the brewery to the CW site in Herts (I think). Now CW make a decent pint, but it ain't in the same league as Young's beers. The water will no longer be drawn from the old well in Wandsworth by the Thames and this is fucking wrong. You don't make sparkling wine in Belgium and call it Champagne, and there is no fucking way that the distinctively London taste of Young's various glorious ales is going to stay the same, and that is a bleedin' shame. Anyone who grew up in South London will remember the drays drawn by the beautiful shire horses that delivered the beer to all the pubs up until a few years ago. And anyone who likes real beer has, at some point, knelt in supplication at the wonder that is a pint of Winter Warmer, the only beer in the world so good it makes me want to screw the barrel it comes out of. I want questions asked in Parliament about this. I can't see the Italian government sitting back and watching the producers of Barolo sell their land for luxury fucking flats and grow the grapes in different soil, can you? Not pleased, not pleased at all. Plus their pubs are wonderful too, real old-fashioned boozers with beautifully kept cellars and eccentric staff, just as a proper pub should be. The one in the photo, the Dog and Bull , has been a wonderful oasis in the cutural wasteland that is Croydon for as long as anyone can remember, is one of the greatest pubs in the known universe and if CW fuck with it, there's going to be a lot of upset South London chemical heads, not to mention the mad bastards from Surrey St market, beating a path to their door. You have been warned.

Does Chewey Know About This?

2006-05-25T12:12:00.000Z

Near Wells in Somerset (the tiny, tiny city), is a place whose name fills me with joy whenever I see it. Here's its official site. Apparently it's revamped, restored and totally remarkable, also bursting and apparently King Kong's going to come there...

Powerful Enough To Turn Goats Piss Into Gasoline

2006-05-24T12:31:00.000Z

I am really fucked off right now. No specific reasons, I'd just like to stick a fragmentation grenade up the universe's arse and retire to a safe distance. Maybe it's the accumulation of all the low-level crap most people put up with from day to day finally spilling over, or the fact that I've been having one of those spells where no matter what you do, work or non-work, someone gets upset about it, an innocent remark or action snowballs into an avalanche of mixed messages, recriminations and random weirdness. Could it be I'm the human* embodiment of the butterfly of chaos theory, possibly it's because I haven't had a pint since Friday or maybe I'm just a misanthropic bastard. Fucknose.

*Some people may dispute this

It's 125 miles to London, We've Got A Full Tank Of Gas, It's Not Dark But We're Still Wearing Sunglasses

2006-05-23T12:40:00.000Z

Yes. I have a drivers license. And a van. Scary isn't it?

Picture courtesy of You Need A Mess Of Help's flickr

Redneck Tendencies

2006-05-15T17:14:00.000Z

When it comes to music, I don't believe in guilty pleasures. Fuck it, if I like it, I like it. One form of music people really look down their noses at is Southern Rock. Well fuck you, I love Lynyrd Skynyrd and The Allman Brothers, I even like White Witch and Hydra, and if the wind is blowing in the right direction, hell, I'll even listen to Black Oak Arkansas. And enjoy it. The reason I mention this is because there's a killer fucking twenty minute Allman Brothers live medley of You Don't Love Me/Soul Serenade on An Aquarium Drunkard that contains some of the finest southern-fried guitar you'll ever hear and the best two drummer rhythm section ever. So go check the fucker out. Who knows, you might discover yr inner redneck too...

Music Hides The Screams

2006-05-15T16:19:00.000Z

Jeebus*, my jaw hurts like a fucking bastard. The nice people at the teeth factory shot me full of morphine, which was nice, and actually worked for a while. Then it wore off. Not nice. Even the fucking 60mg DHC tablets my doctor prescribed barely take the fucking edge off of the feeling that some cunt is ramming a screwdriver into the joint of my jaw. They do however turn me into some kind of narcoleptic, which means my neighbours are spared, for a couple of hours anyway, the really loud swearing that happens each time the dull background throb spikes into a seriously viscious stab of agony, which happens 2 or 3 times an hour and makes white light flash behind my eyes. Serious pain calls for serious fucking music. I can't be arsed with anything soothing when I feel like this, it just amplifies the unpleasantness. What doesn't tho, is some nice skullscraping sonic violence, music so dense and all-conquering that the brain gets overwhelmed with massive clusters of soundfuck that the immersive state of subconcious concentration one finds oneself in tells the background pain processing centre to shut the fuck down so the rest of the brain can dig this really fucking cool noise. Plus, when the pain crescendo returns, no one can hear the torrent of unbelievably foul language which will inevitably occur. So I've been mainly listening to this little lot over the past few days:

Ramleh - Soundcheck Changeling (Broken Flag)
Last Exit - Cassette Recordings (Enemy)
Earth - 2 (Sub Pop)
The Ruby Kennel Club - s/t (Freek)
Aufgehoben No Process - The Violence Of Appropriation (Junior Meat)
Skullflower - Infintyland (HeadDirt)
Terminal Cheesecake - V.C.L. (Wiija)
Consumer Electronics w/ Merzbow - Horn Of The Goat (Freek)
Mirag - Black Temple Carved In Smoke (Battlecruiser)
Alan Silva's Celestrial Communication Orchestra (Actuel)
Rake - Art Enemble Of (VHF)
Buried At Sea - Migration (Original Sound Recordings)
Ramleh - Be Careful What You Wish For (SFTRI)
YoungsBower - Site/Realm (VHF)
Headbutt - Tiddles (Dirter)
Albert Ayler - Live At Greenwich Village(Impulse!)
Total - Solid Objects Cast At Goblins (VHF)
Marzette Watts & Co. (ESP)
Oxbow - The Balls In The Great Meat Grinder Collection (Pathological)
Revenge - Victory Intolerance Mastery (Osmose)

*(C)2006 Mistress La Spilffe

Shit Band, Killer Cover

2006-05-11T18:50:00.000Z

In Case You Were Wondering...

2006-05-11T18:38:00.000Z

A heavy metal umlaut (aka röck döts) is an umlaut over a letter in the name of a heavy metal band. The use of umlauts and other diacritics with a blackletter style typeface is a form of foreign branding intended to give a band's logo a Teutonic quality. It is a form of marketing that invokes stereotypes of boldness and strength commonly attributed to peoples such as the Vikings; author Reebee Garofalo has attributed its use to a desire for a "gothic horror" feel. The heavy metal umlaut is never referred to by the term diaeresis in this usage, nor is it intended to affect the pronunciation of the band's name.

Thanks Wikipedia.

David Blaine

2006-05-09T20:06:00.000Z

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Fuckwit.

Bows Toward The Sun And Sheds The Object Form

2006-05-09T17:05:00.000Z

Music is the closest thing to religion that I have, and the closest I get to praying is subconciously chanting along to Om records when I'm fucked. Their first, Variations On A Theme (Holy Mountain), is so good that I had to restrain myself from gnawing my own foot off in jealous excitement when I first listened to it - excitement cos Sleep's rhythm section had finally put the bong down for an hour or so and made a new record and jealous because a. this is a record I'd love to have made, and I don't think that about much music, and b. I'd give away a lung to have a rhythm section this fucking good to kick planet-sized riffs around with. The new one though, Conference Of The Birds (again, Holy Mountain), is even fucking better, a sound object of singular, glowing, monolithic beauty that tells reality to just fuck off for the half-hour or so of it's duration.

Two tracks, thirty three minutes is all you get this time. The first, At Giza, opens in a shimmering heat-haze of cymbals and bass feedback before coalescing into a beautiful mid-paced loping groove, Al's (clean!) bass riff slowly evolving as time passes, entwining with the subtle, rolling drum work of the Hakius* as he intones his unique brand of transcendent uplift **. Ultra repetitive, yet in constant flux, Om avoid the main pitfall of so many bands of this ilk, the belief that it's enough to play one riff over and over again as long as it's really bassy and really distorted without regard for texture or nuance. Which is the key word here. Nuance. Go on, say it again, it's a lovely word to say out loud. Nuance is everything in Om's music, the tiny details which reveal the beauty of the overall structure. The way both Al's basslines and lyrics simultaneously and subtly change over time, a note here, a touch of phasing or filtering there, the way the bass tone gets fuzzier as the song continues but so gradually you barely notice it, so small are the increments of change. It's so simple, just a bass. a voice and a drumkit, intermeshed so tightly that every tiny change seems magnified and meaningful. The atmosphere this song creates is incredible too, like draping a translucent psychedelic overlay over the world for a quarter of an hour, almost like a reverse of the drug fuelled dread of The Green Manalishi (With The Two Pronged Crown) by Peter Green's Fleetwood Mac, which is about the only other track this song calls to mind, even though they sound nothing like each other. It's only in the final couple of minutes that they unleash the full power of the fuzz -fuelled bludgeoning machine, and even though you sort of know it's going to happen, it's still fantastic and y're flung into the sky with the birds that they reference constantly. Fucking sublime.

The second track, Flight Of The Eagle, is a slight return to the sound of the first album, a slowish, hugely fuzzed riff monster locking horns with the Hakius, whose drumming on this song is just fucking wonderful, he truly is the Ed Blackwell of metal, if you can still call Om that - and I'm not sure you can anymore - I've made this connection before, put it seems particularly apposite to repeat it. Like Blackwell, he has the ability to never play a bar of music the same without recourse to trickery or grandstanding or descent into abstraction, a sensitivity to the needs of the music which marks out the true improviser, the drummer as musician as opposed to timekeeper, unfortunately an all too rare quality in music outside of the jazz sphere in my opinion. Even though this track is so heavy it's like listening down the gravity well of a gas-giant, it still maintains the perfect three-way balance between voice, bass and drums in a manner which again, reminds me of jazz more than anything else, every note and strike of a drum or cymbal in it's place and with perfect poise that makes me think of Free Fall by Jimmy Guiffre, Paul Bley and Steve Swallow - a group whose music couldn't be further from Om's if it tried, but whose delicate abstraction carries itself with the same poise, the same sureness of the moment. Truly a fucking glorious album.

*San Jose's distant cousin of the Sasquatch.

**I'm not being sarcastic here, somehow Mr Cisneros's lyrics, which on paper look utterly preposterous, translate into something altogether Other when combined with the glory of the Om's sound. Even lines like "And lighten pon day - the solarics rise - falls upon the ziggurat electron school" make perfect sense in Omworld.

Dolor Del Diente

2006-05-09T12:21:00.000Z

What I'd really like for my birthday this year is some metal teeth. Either that or to kill the fucking invisible imp which is sitting on my shoulder and smacking me in the mouth with a steel fucking bar. I'd write more but I'm just in the state where the DFs have kicked in just enough to allow me to think but not so much that even remaining seated becomes an impossible feat of balance...

Wankers Corner*

2006-05-04T22:59:00.000Z

Admittedly it's fucking easy to rip the piss out of both the American government and the insane strains of fundamentalist christianity in the U.S., but that doesn't negate the fact that done well it's truly fucking hilarious. So if you could do with a laugh (and this week they've been a bit thin on the ground) I suggest you shift yr cyberarses over to The White House and The Landover Baptist Church for some neo-con baiting fun.

On a slightly more serious note, we've all seen that when the seperation between church and state breaks down it has a similar effect to dropping a brick of potassium into water. It's a shame that a few more politicians in the states didn't take these words of Thomas Jefferson into account before letting Bush and his cronies run amok on their new crusade;

"They believe that any portion of power confided to me, will be exerted in opposition to their schemes. And they believe rightly; for I have sworn upon the altar of god, eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man."

Those words, which are prominently carved around the ceiling of the Jefferson Memorial in Washington weren't refering to some 18th century equivalent of reds under the bed or Al-Q'aida. Nope, he was talking about the christian clergy itself.

*A town in Oregon, which I think would be a much more fitting capital for Bush's America than D.C.

I Plead Insanity

2006-05-04T12:40:00.000Z

Don't get me wrong, I love my job. Hanging around over 500ft drops is all in a days work. The risk of decapitation, electrocution and other fun stuff isn't a problem. I'm used to that shit. Getting routinely drenched in foul smelling hydraulic oil eventually becomes amusing, as does accidently doing what looks like a bad Al Jolson impersonation when an ancient generator that hasn't been cleaned in 70 years blows out a massive cloud of carbon dust, covering me from head to foot. Plus I get to argue with architects, which is a great joy to me. Best of all, I get to see panoramic views of our beautiful city which almost no one else does, particularly standing on the very top of the Barbican Towers (I will take my camera next time, promise) and get to see parts of public places the public never will, such as the unbelievably cavernous basement of the British Museum where amazing things lie around in boxes in service corridors and untold riches spend their existence in massive, dark storerooms, like the ark of the covenant at the end of Raiders Of The Lost Ark. But whenever I take a cold, hard look at what I do for a living I have to ask myself the question, am I fucking mental? I suspect the answer is yes, but bollocks to it, I fucking love it.

I'm Really, Really Sorry

2006-05-02T23:25:00.000Z

Call me childish if you will, but I almost pissed myself laughing when I came across this article on Wikipedia. Every single sentence is a source of truly puerile glee. Fuck, even the links are priceless. Click on the lovely picture of the Bavarian countryside to join in the stupidity...

¿Dónde Puse Mi Spacehopper?

2006-05-02T17:06:00.000Z

As I may have mentioned once or twice before, I fucking love Th' Faith Healers. Really, really love 'em. Possibly a little too much. Anyway, they played a majorly fucking arse-kicking gig a couple of weeks ago at 93 Feet East (which I will write about when my brain works properly, promise) which once again resulted in foolish moshpit activity (is this some kind of premature mid-life crisis? Fuck knows, but it is serious fun) on my part. There's some nice pictures of it here. But, even better than that, those lovely people at WMFU also got the buggers to record a rather good live session which I think you should go and listen to immediately. You can find that here. Enjoy.

...Of Sonoluminescence, Of Ketamine And Cats

2006-05-01T21:13:00.000Z

Go check out the killer new look Morgen Und Nite myspace. Greens and purples and stars in jars abound. Not that I can take any credit for it, being the slack motherfucker that I am, it's all the fine, fine work of the first lady of psychedelic power drone.

Jeff Lint

2006-05-01T20:57:00.000Z

Curious? Confused? Go here