Jun 25, 2010

TIMMY'S ORGANISM "I'm On A Hunt" 7inch

If you've just heard the whispers on the street and are wondering if they're true-YES! This is Timmy V.Lamp Vulgar doing something along the lines of something somewhat normal Rock-n-Roll. What you need to realize though is that "normal Rock-n-Roll" in the always churning and always oddly colored mind that is Mr. Timmy isn't necessarily what someone like Dick Clark or some dick on the FM rock station think when they hear such a description.
With the basic butt shaking boogie groove that has launched a billion songs about since Chuck Berry scored his first hit about girls at least a decade younger than himself over half almost three quarters a century ago being pummeled and battered to match the surrounds Tim walks through on a daily basis-"I'm On A Hunt" is on a scent that'll eventually soothe the savage beast. The beat takes on the job of a lumbering machine that creaks from years of rust but stand out of it's way while moving because it will take off any limb that it catches while Guitars lines randomly spill & splatter blood and battery acid in every direction and Timmy howls about a search fueled by desperation and lust.
Side two's "Don't Forget Your Pretty Stare" is a heartfelt ballad that Bowie wishes he would wrote after he was done tapping Iggy's well for ideas on The Idiot if only either of them had the hindsight as well as the weird look into the backwards future that Timmy possesses.

Jun 21, 2010

the PIZAZZ "Get Out Of My House" cassette


Jun 20, 2010

Gorevette, The Pleasure Kills and The McFlys-Saturday July 24th at the Roche Bar in Port Huron

Gorevette: Featuring the legendary Nikki Corvette and Amy of the Gore Gore Girls

From sunny California The Pleasure Kills play New Wave/Power Pop. Good times and dancing will happen!

Also on the bill-the Blue Water Area's best at "1!2!3!4! Fun Punk" The McFlys.

Jun 14, 2010

Short's Black Licorice Lager


Jun 11, 2010


You can call James Arthur lots of things: Triumph motorcycle aficionado, D'Lana's old man, A Texan who can drink some large amount of bourbon etc. One thing a person would never expect to call the one time member of the Fireworks/Necessary Evils/A Feast Of Snakes/Golden Boys though is "Space Rock Music Maker".
Recorded in "shacks in Texas" over 2009 with James playing almost every instrument on it (he credited with bass, guit, drums, organs, bongos) with a few guests like Golden Boys Nathan providing organ on a couple songs, Bruce Saltmarsh of '68 Comeback fame supplying some drum bits and Bantam Rooster's Tom Potter doing a guitar bit, you could pin this as something like a Hillbilly Hawkwind or Krautrock wearing some mud caked bluejeans.
With that all said don't be expecting this record to set you off floating aimlessly into a warm and squishy galaxy at an instant. To leave the planet is always a loud, dirty and lots of fire and fuel vapor situation such as the Mr. Potter on the burns from bacon grease splattered lead guitar trash blues stomp opener, "The Cougar", the JAMC marinated in hot pepper jelly then raked over the coals of "Black Cop" and the walking blues surfer sound excursion that blows into tiny sharp shards of "Strong Back" prove.
When the music does elevate itself past towards outerspace it isn't a floating above the clouds soundtrack by Tangerine Dream type of snooze either. It's a fight against static storms that set the mechanical parts all awry such as the distortion, unearthy pitch shifting & delay noises and space rocks hurled against the side of the rocketship sounds that "The Gurgler" and "My God #4" and 1970's era Cabaret Voltaire robots wired wrong clanging of "Black Angus" are riddled with. On the other hand though tracks like "Crows" WOULD border on the line of ethereal if there wasn't an obvious menacing under current to them.

Jun 9, 2010

ZOLA JESUS "Stridulum" 12inch EP

"Oh, don't tell me let me guess" says the voice on the phone.
"Ummm. Okay...."
"It's not some weird Cocteau Twins demos you found on the internet is it?"
"Ummmmm. No....."
"Good! Good! Because I get Google alerts. Do you do those?"
"I do for....."
He interrupts before I can finish "Cool. I get what you're saying". The voice then tells me about his day, how his co-workers are always wanting to bully him around and how he needs to talk to someone before he "stabs them with a sawblade or scissors".
"Do you know if Kate Bush has a daughter that is really mad at her?"
"Ummmm." I was a bit thrown off by this one. I was thinking maybe all the previous calls by this fellow were just some grand scheme for a set up and here would finally come the punchline.
Before you start wondering I don't work at a record store anymore. Nor a Suicide prevention line, phone sex, FIA, Social Security, one of those 900 party lines like basic cable advertised in the late 80's or a homeless shelter hotline.
Nope! I'm just a guy doing a radio show on a very hayseed city's college radio station. The caller has been dubbed "Of Montreal" because no matter what a dj is playing and how many times it's explained that they have their own specialty thing going on and he says "Cool Bro. I respect that. I understand that but...." then goes on how his co-workers tied him up, wrapped him in a blanket and threw him in the river or something about "a girl I thought was cool but stole all my money and set fire to my bathroom last night." He then will tell whoever is on the phone that he wants to hear something rowdy/mellow/angry/laid back/punk/techno/aggressive/background music (it doesn't really matter what you tell him you're playing because he just picks up on the keyword you tell him) and Of Montreal is usually always the band he'd request that fit his bill for all the above.
As for this particular call though I had no idea where he was coming from. "Dude. I AM NOT PLAYING ANY OF MONTREAL TONIGHT....or EVER now that I think about it! They sound like they're the people who do the music for the Outback Steakhouse commercials."
"Oh, I can respect that. I don't like them anymore either. I hear you bro! I was just trying to ask you what is was you are playing right now?"
I'm irritated. I pause. I inhale deep. Then exhale deep. I let the pause hang again. I think "I wish we could get caller ID in the place". I hesitate again before I reply.
"I really want to punch you in the face!" Well, that's what I'm thinking at least. My (somewhat) rationality and "nice guy" image takes over. "This is Zola Jesus"
"Right on bro. I hear what you're saying. Is she from England?"
"Nope. Wisconsin"
"I can respect that. She's probably not from England then."
"She's probably not Kate Bush's angry daughter then."
"I'm guessing not."
"Do yo think she would set my bathroom on fire while I was sleeping"
"I don't know."
"Do you have her number because I would really like to talk to her because I...."
I hang up the phone before he continues to ask or tell me anything more. The phone rings 30 seconds later. The lady on the line meant to call another radio station.

Jun 6, 2010

Short's 6th Anniversary Blood Orange Wheat Wine


Jun 4, 2010

KOMMIE KILPATRICK "Weird City" casette and "Life Sucks 2" CDR

You say the name Kommie Kilpatrick around these parts and it's greeted with excitement and cheers. Not because the band is a household word or anything but because it's a pretty funny play on the name of the former Detroit mayor who thought he was Teflon coated hip-hop superstar and anything he did wrong or bad wouldn't stick to him. Well, after having to resign from his mayoral gig, becoming a convicted felon and numerous probation violations which have now led him to one and a half to five years in Jackson State Prison even most of his staunchest supporters (the small handful he had left) are even thinking "Damn, what a dumbass".
The name is appropriate for the band too because they aren't in any way trying to sound like any kind of deep thinkers or or statement making intellectuals. Nope, they want to get drunk, get loud, maybe get in a fight, maybe even get laid and make it back home in one piece at about the same time the sun is coming up. Kinda like their namesake but without the police escort and strippers getting snuffed out for knowing too much.
The classic USA dumb punk sound of the Angry Samoans "Back From Samoa" and the Circle Jerks "Group Sex" play big into their sound. Quick blasts of obnoxiousness, most of the songs just barely top the one minute mark and a good number of them are over and done in half that time, about bad food, bad beer, bad hangovers, bad driving, bad luck and girls with bad, bad reputations that even these lunkheads have to think twice before taking the back to their place. Of course they DO take them back to their place but hey, they at least thought twice before they did. PUNK ROCK!

Jun 2, 2010

the PEOPLE'S TEMPLE "You Don't Know" 7inch

These Lansing via Perry, Michigan (Population 2065-making it the 4th largest town in Shiawassee County) brats first harassed the earholes at Smashin' Transistors about a year ago with their single on the Milk & Herpes label. That record was a loud & brash mash of Brian Jones era Stones worship, Back From The Grave digging and punk rock taking a psychedelic trip. The songs were jammed with abandon and teenage frustration. Hell, at the time they recorded it I believe a couple of them were still in high school. HOW COULD IT NOT BE FUELED WITH ABANDON TEENAGE FRUSTRATION?!?! That is, of course, what rock-n-roll is suppose to be all about, right? At the time we thought "They've really done their homework on how to do it RIGHT. Give them some time to develop at little more and they'll be the successors to the Black Lips crown" or something like that. After all, the Black Lips guys are all over 25 years old now. Heh! Over the hill. Who will be the hope for real ROCK-n-ROLL next young kings until the backlash starts and so on.
On these more recent recordings by the brothers Szegedy and brothers Young and other than both bands playing 60's tinged slop and jangle, the Black Lips references go out the window because these guys got their own thing going on.
"You Don't Know" has the sound of surf music gone to hit some waves in some sinister part of outerspace all lead by a Rob Tyner pushing the vocals into red testimonial. "Shoot Her Down" is loaded with wailing harp and dirt floor stomp. It's kinda like a tune everyone would like to hear Iggy Pop do for the last 35 years but know he probably wont. The flip is the total bad ass "Raft" where the band shows what they're excelling a super fast clip at. Psychedelic blues bliss all the way through. Guitar lines slither between the serpentine and Spacemen 3 swooshes & splatter while the vocals trade off with all of them sounding like a Saturday night sermon.