archiv: singled out – missive 200 (e)…

missive 200 (e)
Welcome return to our reading desk of the much missed Bucketful of Brains. Catering for all your 60’s garage beat / power pop needs and beyond and returning after an extended hiatus – BoB #72 billed as the ’back from the dead’ special features the Hammersmith Gorillas Jesse Hector and has him chewing the fat inside talking about 50 years in the business, a documentary ’a message to the world’ is currently doing the rounds on DVD. Elsewhere there’s features / interviews on the Sonics, Paul and Barry Ryan who achieved pop immortality with ’eloise’ and who are the subject of a re-issue treatment by Rev-Ola. Elsewhere Willard Grant Conpiracy’s Robert Fischer is put beneath the spotlight and forced to talk – then there’s your usual taste tailored reviews section amongst which the Jim Jones Revue get a deserved adoring notice while there’s an extended article on Stud Leather’s legendary ’cut loose’ single which you can hear by redirecting yourselves towards the general vicinity of – BoB also has a my space presence these days from where if you scroll around you can find all the ordering bumph.

And now for what’s getting to our regular update of pod cast transmissions being zoomed out into the depths of the void by those coolest of dudes over at the garage punk basement of sounds featuring more raw arsed retarded retro bad motherfecking boogie than you can frankly shake a mojo stick at, squeezed until their pips pop and shoehorned into dusty leather winkles you’ll find a whole host of shrieks, screams, struts, shimmies and the dandiest dastardly and dangerous devil groove sermonising from the finest reprobates of rock ’n’ roll’s underclass, all bases covered swamp surf, dragster, power pop, teen angst, bubblegum, garage, beat pop, snotty punk and arse frying rock n roll. Several newly posted shows feature here including the debut turntable terrorising transmission from the Screaming Soul Preacher as he blows the roof of the garage punk HQ clean off with a positive diamond mine of lost relics on the House of Wild Delights pod. Among the roll call the Chimes smoking’ ‘zindy lou’ and the jungle sounds of Jack Rodgers ‘taheene’ that said Japanese freak beat dudes the Outcasts ’long tall sally’ has to be heard to be believed, so wild and untamed we here are thinking its bordering on illegal – apparently culled from their ’87 opus ’the hound’ which we’ve somehow missed – damn. Throw in some Jackie Lee Cochran, some wild cat bop from Bobby Bare and wrap it all up with the Oblivians crucifying the shit out of everything in their line of sight. Its enough to get your Shindig shades all a steaming.

More tasty treats courtesy of Gretchen’s un-missable Hanging on for Mercy show now up to #44 – always great to find a show opening with someone who you consider a bit of hero, of course we are talking about Ric Menck (Velvet Crush, Choo Choo Train, Springfields etc…) in our view one of the finest purveyors of buzz sawed bubblegum pop around anywhere right now who features here with ‘she swirls around me‘ culled from his collection of rare odds n‘ sods ‘the ballad of ric menck‘. those loving your stuff slightly psych-y and lashed with reverb, eastern mantras and very much yearning for Donovan’s ’hurdy gurdy man’ may do well to search and secure the Nevermores’ ’what don’t you know’ – they are a St Louis based quartet have an album out called ’nevereverafter’ which we here are thinking we need hooking up to immediately – need more information please. Some neat tripster groove from the Morning After Girls, something slinky and soulful from the Nite Owls, a nugget and a half from the much adored Long Ryders and a spot of heart string sting from Cory Case – oh yea and a bit of Charlie Pickett thrown in for good measure. Need you ask for more – you do – okay the Drones, Choo Choo and the excellently named Eddy Current Suppression Ring who name alone makes it something we ought to be investigating further.

Sadly at present there’s no play option on Savage Kick #69 and we can’t even play it through I-tunes because our player is having an Easter hissy fit – so young folk we’ll have to come back to this at a later date. Probably tomorrow if we can pull ourselves away from stuffing our chops full of chocolate. Instead Rock n’ roll Suicide #65 has your ears pinned with R Fink’s devilish selection of scuzz buzzed and scowling trashed and chaos thrilled no future oblivion type three chord spiked topped mayhem. Some killer stuff here for all you shit faced glue sniffing punks like Cokerocket who are apparently on the Gonna Puke which be honest by name only you want stuff by right now, some dandy 60’s intoned girl pop from the Flips, some killer power pop from the high school lockers – though that said best of the set is the raucous f*ck you grind of the excellently named Fe Fi Fo Fums found here cutting some neat Johnny Thunders shapes with ’one more chance’ and the clearly shit faced Hammond drenched groove of the Wau y los Arrrghs – man we need to hear more of these dudes. – I think we are right in saying that these are two exclusives from the Padden repertoire – sadly no information as to what, how, where or indeed why etc…of course needing no introductions in these pages Mr Padden is one quarter of the impishly inspired and eclectically eccentric weird and wayward art rock pranksters Volcano the Bear who should be featuring in these pages over the coming weeks en masse as they have a by all accounts heavily release schedule about to kick start into action. Anyway for now some strangely normalised sounds from the Padden workbench, of course I say ’normalised’ with a fair amount of tongue super glued top the cheek. As said two exclusives feature on this ms player ’dumfries tape’ appears to adopt a similar ‘postcards from my travels’ attitude as those recent outings cobbled together by Darren Hayman. A pickled collage of promenade fancies, mood reclining muzak, music hall organ follies and a general all around sense of a vintage sepia trimmed Britain viewed through a fast forwarding viewfinder harking to a era of sun kissed beached landscapes ruined by persons adorned with hankies on heads, lolly ices, deck chairs and sand castles – kind of Joe Meek meets the Goons if indeed you are desperately seeking a musical map reference in which to place it. Better still though and a serious curio is the cover of the Undertones immortal ’teenage kicks’ – removed of the originals rapid fire anxiety and in its place decorated with an ominously slow piano refrain that finds itself accompanied by moments of erupting sugar bursts of squalling ripples with Mr Padden himself sounding it has to be said not so far removed from a certain Mr Wyatt. Has to be heard.

The Fallen Angels ’who do you love’ (sundazed). First of several ultra limited dinked 7 inches’ from the esteemed Sundazed imprint, you know the drill rare cuts from the coolest bands that ever where pressed up and decorated in faux vintage labelled 60’s styled picture bags. First up one of the great should’ve been massive bands, the Fallen Angels. Hailing from Washington DC favour and good luck never shone on the Fallen Angels as happened to fellow natives Nils Lofgren, Emmylou Harris and Cass Elliot to name but three. Suffering the indignation of being dropped by their uncaring label Roulette – an imprint who frankly by all accounts had little idea or indeed the gumption or wherewithal to market them, considering them a little ’far out’ and treacherously embarrassing the band as legend would have it by re-arranging the final recording edit of ’hello girl’ much to the annoyance of the band, a slight that was rewarded and repaid in kind by the group with one of their number producing a doll and proceeding to dismember it in front of a recording TV camera. This previously unreleased version of the cut sees them blending the mellowing intones of the latter career country driftwood inflections of the Byrds with the at the time happening breezy folk rock of Dylan to much mellowing mastery. Lead out cut is a rather nifty slice of hip shimmying and busying bitchin’ boogie that has them doing a previously unreleased take of the mighty Bo Diddley’s ‘who do you love’ and from it cooking up a real gas and lashing it with a serious hustling demeanour and lacing it with harmonicas aplenty. Crucial stuff.

The Preachers ‘stay out of my world’ (sundazed). Shuffling out of LA these long haired reprobates where deemed at the time – that’ll be 1965 – to un-commercial for the tastes of their label charges Moonglow, featuring a choice of vocalists (the growling blues preacher intones of Richard Fortunato and the cool as f**k chilled nasal drawl of John English), this dinked seven inch EP housed in the usual retro sleeve and sporting faux 60’s styled labels features three rare repressed slabs one of which a previously un-issued cover of ’hey joe’ (alone admittedly worthy of the entrance fee alone given its a killer folk rock re-drill of the song made famous by the Leaves and latterly by Hendrix). Then there’s the self penned ‘stay out of my world’ – a slice of wasted and out of it primitive pre psyche tempered garage groove that manages with some aplomb to out manoeuvre the holy garage grail pairing of the Standells and the Seeds while their version of ‘who do you love’ is a bastardised and bent out of shape n’ spanking punked up garage blues brew that’s sure to raise their profile among the Pebbles / Nuggets et al fraternity. Damn fine stuff – on clear vinyl as if you needed any further persuading.

Bad Seeds ’I’m a king bee’ (sundazed). Again pressed up in limited quantities all housed in fetching vintage picture bags and adorned with mocked up J-Beck labels, this four track feast gathers together all four sides of the Texans much sought after brace of sevens released during an all too brief short lived career. As the accompanying press release blurb rightly points out the Bad Seeds mixed up a unique brew of Stones-esque grooves with their own brand of primal twang – best heard and experienced on the daringly dirty and mooching ’I’m a king bee’ – hell I’d forgotten how subtle this babe was with its sexual overtones until I heard this cut. Then there’s the blissed out ballad-esque ’a taste of the same’ which should first and foremost appeal in droves to admirers of Bad Afro’s 60’s garage revisionists Baby Woodrose given its dashingly decoded in a shimmering shade adorned fatality. Flip over for the sizzling f**k you ’sick and tired’ which lies somewhere between a crossroads that separates Johnny Kidd and the Pirates and Del Shannon while choice cut of the set comes courtesy of the wig flipped garage beat boogie ’all night long’ – strut grooved speaker spanking stuff.

Seeland ‘goodbye’ (loaf). So in love with this cut that we literally weep, whirl and woo woo each and every time it comes into earshot. Culled from their recently released debut opus ‘tomorrow today’ which – yes yes yes I know we haven’t reviewed yet mainly because of the small but considerable detail that its so bloody wonderful that we skip the chores of sitting down cobbling together fond missives in order to do more of that weeping, whirling and woo wooing we mentioned just a second ago. Anyway left dangling over a rather hot furnace and forced to choose – we would have to own up and say this was one of any number of gems to be found on that aforementioned set. Featuring the combined and dare we say formidable duelling talents of ex members of Broadcast and Plone, Seeland invite you to hop aboard their galactic cruiser for a hyper driven blast into the far reaches of distant milky ways, ’goodbye’ is a honey crusted star crossed babe lovingly sedated and succulently saturated amid a teasing tapestry of cosmic curvatures, shimmering effervescences, twinkling lullabies and wig flipping pupil dilating drop dead gorgeous astral pop – if Bowie’s ’Ashes to Ashes’ was a failing and fading transmission from ‘space oddity’s’ Major Tom then ‘goodbye’ is an updated progress report of the Meek piloted Tornados cruise ship ‘telstar’. Nuff said. Flip the disc for the simply adorable ’tears of an architect’ – if this doesn’t tweak at the heartstrings then nothing will, a beautifully frosted and seemingly lonesome lullaby transmitted across the heaven’s that within its 10 minute odyssey evolves, devolves and terra forms with such breathtaking fluidity that belies a sense of strange alchemy across aural landscapes laced with drone montages, celestial fairgrounds, ethereal choirs, snoozing folk fancies and numbed glacial introspection – perfection.

Susunu Yakota ’a flower white’ (lo recordings). Already achieving something of an early heads up in the album of the year stakes in our gaff, Yakota’s ’mother’ is an seductively toned unreal coalescing odyssey of symbiotically fused moods and textures, all at once shimmering and seductive, fragile and frosted but dinked with an alluringly lush celestial opulence rarely heard here since last years Musetta opus ’mice to meet you’ and Heather Duby’s utterly arresting debut for Sub Pop at the tail end of the 90’s. this EP reprises three of ’mother’s’ more memorable choice cuts as revisited and sprinkled with star dust by the hands of label mates Seeland and Canada’s Montag and Oen Sujet. The set opens with the original mix of ’a flower light’ – angelic and tender its disturbingly beautiful and shyly graceful, Nancy Elizabeth’s softly purring vocals casting an almost enchantress like bewitchment to the occasion wallowing amid the spectral corteges of Cathedral-esque reverence which once left in the capable hands of Seeland achieves something that can only be described as an evangelical experience which at the time of writing this being Easter Sunday seems to me to be fittingly perfect given they endow a woozy star lit light show of glinting garlands and apparition like amorous arcs that collected together weave and radiate with a spellbinding aching desire that’s both flawless and utterly entrancing. Not to be outdone Montag’s recalibration of ’love tendrilises’ – serviced here by both a vocal and instrumental remix – repositions the original mix into a hermetically sealed orbiting orb, the textures dramatically redefined to service it with a wide screen aspect with the tempo slowed to a merest feint pulsing nocturnal heartbeat, the amorphous lounge like contours eliciting an almost supernatural aura and tenderly primed with a subtle though unmistakable purring passion all sublimely trimmed by the majestic processions of softly undulating orchestrations. Last up and by no means least Oen Sujet apply some wonderfully worked playfulness to their re-edit of ’a ray of light’ and into the bargain removes the original from its refined Chamber like hollowness and sets to work dimpling its matrix with some willowy tipped lunar collages much reminiscent of a youthful Cornelius though here brushed in all manner of thawing and snoozing frostily crystal tipped electronic serenades – quite a cutie all said and done.

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