Lightnin' Hopkins (Everest)

My father gave me this record years ago when he was culling his own vinyl accumulation. It's a decent compilation on the esteemed Everest Records Archive of Folk & Jazz Music label, adorned with underwritten liner notes that give no indication where or when the recordings come from, as was the fashion back then. Nor does it give any more information about the identities of 'Brownie' and 'Sonny' who accompany Mr. Hopkins, though the internet reveals that they are Sonny Terry on harmonica and Brownie McGhee on the other acoustic guitar. The solo tracks are wonderfully rambling, the opening 'Big Black Cadillac Blues' really more of a spoken word cut than a song, and 'Brand New Car' containing some more extemporising vocals from Mr. Hopkins, also helped by the backing band and 'Big' Joe Williams also on vocals. Plenty of people have studied this music properly, both amateur and academic scholars, and I have little to add as said field is not my forte, except that  the rare times I throw this on are immensely satisfying. The joy in Hopkins' music is in the drift, the lurching from a well-sung line to a finger-picked run and back, with everyone loosely circling around a centre that likely adheres to the 12-bar (or whatever) format, without ever feeling rigid. The tracks with Terry and McGhee are the high points –– the version of 'I've Been Buked and Scorned' here is amazing, really something that must be heard to be believed –– and Terry's harmonica chops on 'Drinkin' in the Blues' are wonderfully feral. I might just get an extra special personal pleasure from this because it was from my father (who is still alive, this isn't an elegy), which is probably not so interesting for you to read about, but then again, why write these if I don't bring in my personal associations + reactions to it all? I think compilations like this can still be found for nothing, some of the last remaining cheap vinyl in an age where copies of Fleetwood Mac's Rumours sell for over 20€ (at least over here); there's no shame in the compilation, as so much great traditional and classical musics can be discovered though them. And I'll still take anything on vinyl over a certainly-available YouTube rip of dubious quality, which forces one to endure an advertisement burst before the song starts.

J.D. - 'Warsaw' (RZM Productions)

The band mysteriously known only as 'J.D.' chose not to release these recordings, which is understandable; they're the dictionary definition of 'raw', in terms of recording, performance and composition. This is punk rock, though - the year '1977' has been mythologised by the mohicans and their descendents, or maybe it was '78 when these were recorded - I dunno for sure, but the anger is sure there. The band that was to follow shed a lot of these influences, making this little more than a curiosity for diehard fans (which I'm not) or for people who revel in early, raw obscurity. As the record progresses it starts to get closer to the Factory sound, but side one has a surprising amount  of chugga-chugga punk rock. The opening cut ('All Of This For You') is great in a primitive way and sets a tone that doesn't sustain itself throughout, as if this is sequnced in the chronological order of how it was written. 'Failures' has a Stooges-like sound, and 'Novelty', though later reinvented as a much more well-known song, is delivered vocally like it's the Descendents or other early 80s American HC act. Reportedly they were unhappy with post-production techniques, but I'm not sure any are evident here - this is rough sounding, maybe because of the bootleg mastering job, or maybe this wasn't actually the album they intended. Omission can sometimes be a good career move; as much as 'Transmission', 'Interzone' and 'Living in the Ice Age' foreshadow what was to come, certainly the myth was amplified by holding these back. The Hooks and crannies are already obvious, the early synth pulses ('No Love Lost') and the overly dour vibe, but the vocals are the main thing that are not quite there yet.  They're angry, yes, and captivated by strange ideas of isolation and collectivity, images of war and order ('Leaders of Men', 'They Walked in Line') no doubt a byproduct of the late 70s British culture and the difficulties of the economic reality of the time. Manchester was a hell of a lot further away from London culturally than geographically; its hard to see this occupying the same stratosphere as the whole Sex Pistols/Vivienne Westwood/Siouxsie aesthetic at the same time, but it technically did. If it reminds me of any London band it would be Killing Joke's first album, which we'll get to soon. But maybe this is a solid document of what they would have been like live - a bit more raw, the drums flailing rather than crisp.

Idea Fire Company - 'Beauty School' (Ultra Eczema)

I don't know if this Ultra Eczema release is meant to stand as a 'major' IFCO record, since it doesn't come with a manifesto and isn't released on their own home label, Swill Radio. It also features two side-long pieces, with the core IFCO duo accented by Matt Krefting and Graham Lambkin, as opposed to a collection of shorter pieces (if that means anything - probably not!). Those two guys are a perfect match for IFCO's style of sound slicing, and the resulting record is aptly named yet monolithic in its glamour. 'Buzzbomb' is the thunderous, unforgettable track which feels endless, timeless and other such superlatives. Like The Island of Taste we find piano used prominently, played not rapidly but with a resounding certainty, anchoring the piece or rather keeping its movement adhering to a wobbly centre. The tapes and synths and other Idea Fire affects are layered without overwhelming, no single individual sound emerging to take over, and summing up to build a strong feeling of weight. If the track 'Island of Taste' was slowly floating skyward under its own breaths, maybe 'Buzzbomb' is where we come back down. It's a long track and the second movement of it shifts the tone towards something more claustrophobic; this is simultaneously a beautiful concoction to get lost in and a heavy, affecting experience. The title track on the flip is build around an indefatigable tremolo effect and thus continues the stasis. Dennis Tyfus's artwork is perfect for this - monochromatic, yet inviting, cartographic textures which imply a huge universe within to explore and probe. After 'Beauty School' and therefore Beauty School concludes, there's a ringing left in the room, the overtone hangover caused by the greatest recordings of LaMonte Young, Vibracathedral Orchestra, etc. Something else lingers long after this record passes, and that isn't just tonal but perhaps a changing of the air, or the molecular alteration of the walls and floor in here cause by these soundwaves.

Hüsker Dü - 'Metal Circus' (SST)

My copy of this classic has a really bad warp, the kind that sends the stylus flying with each of the 45 rotations per minute. It's so bad that it renders the first song on each side unplayable - in fact, unstartable, as the constant pushback of the skip means it can never get into the opening groove for tracking. So 'my' Metal Circus begins with 'Deadly Skies', and an already short EP becomes a bit unsatisfying when two songs shorter. Serves me right for buying this so eagerly at a weird cheap punk shop in Copenhagen - we should always inspect the vinyl, right? 'Deadly Skies' is a fucking great song though, where the lead guitar lines and Bob Mould's voice work perfectly together. I never thought of the title of this record in terms of 'heavy metal' as this sounds properly like early mid-period Dü, but there is a way that lead guitar/voice combo sounds like a banshee screaming, plus the shredding on 'Out on a Limb' has a few pinch harmonics inside. Grant Hart bats 1.000 here, with 'It's Not Funny Anymore' and 'Diane' being two of his greatest songs. The latter of these may actually objectively terrible, if music could be objectively anything, but I love it; it's creepy, built around a simple, plodding rhythm, and with a strange violence that definitively ties this to the earlier, more adolescent period of the band. The drumming throughout this record is mixed really high, and something feels really imprecise about it; I don't think Hüsker Dü would ever again sound (at least on record) like a bunch of midwestern freaks jamming in a garage, and that's another reason to love this. Minus two songs, it's a shame, really just like a good 7". It's almost hard to believe that Zen Arcade was about to follow, but that's also part of the charm of this.

The Karl Hendricks Trio - 'Sings About Misery and Women' (Fiasco/Peas Kor)

I love the title of this album, and Wayno's artwork for once is a bit less reminiscent of 80s Daniel Clowes and more expressive; young Karl's demeanour on the cover + Tim & Tom in the background gives this a melancholy flavour before the stylus is even lowered. The bricks and foliage and background statues would imply an autumnal New England liberal arts college setting, though I'm sure it's actually depicting Pittsburgh which has some monuments of its own, y'know, and some pretty OK foliage. Anyway, it all comes together to make a rather 'emo' record, though of course Karl Hendricks has always been 'emo', even though his sound and style bore little resemblance to the hardcore-based scene of the same name, which was also taking place in 1993. This is the second consecutive Karl Hendricks LP with misapplied labels (what was your problem, early 90s Peas Kor?) so as I forgot, I started with side B, and the crunchy 'Women and Strangers'. This may actually be the sequence that I became more used to and slightly prefer, since it places 'You're A Bigger Jerk Than Me' as track 2, which is a good place for it. This is one of Karl's most enduring songs, and a good transitional song between the earlier, poppier material and the tendency towards heavy guitar rock which later Trio/Rock Band followed. Throughout, there's no shortage of balladry - 'Flowers Avenue' and 'Romantic Stories from the War' are plaintive, searching for an outlet for a heart being overpumped with blood and regret. 'I Didn't Believe in Gravity' is the singer-songwriter strumming an acoustic guitar, the indie rock folk moment, and a throwback to Karl's pre-Trio self-released cassettes. When the distortion pedals are stepped on, it really works, and the indie rock vibe is felt in the juxtaposition between slow, arpeggiated moments and strummed electric guitar chords, always on the verge of breaking out ('I Don't Need Your Shit', 'Do You Like To Watch Me Sob?'). There's something almost minimal and economical about the early Trio - the 4/4 steady beats were a nice antidote to the time-signature obsessed sounds of Don Caballero and their followers, who were coming out of Pittsburgh at the same time. Karl's voice is mixed higher here than on Buick Electra and this confidence carries through in the playing. I get sad listening to this not because of the lyrics (which never wallow so much in the misery as find a comfort in it), but because of his recent passing; there's little more I can say to express what a tragedy it was, and hope that his music continues to find new fans.

Thee Headcoats - 'W.O.A.H! - Bo In Thee Garage' (Get Hip)

Consistency is a virtue, right? And maybe so is prolificness (is that a word?). Discogs lists only 19 full-length albums by Thee Headcoats, which is fewer than I expected, but then Billy Childish has spread his vision over a variety of bands and pseudonyms (which are surveyed nicely on the Archive from 1959 compilation from a few years back) besides this one. Somehow this LP is all I have managed to accumulate, even though they're all eminently listenable examples of a real scene, postmodern primitivism
at its finest. This is a conceptual one, I guess, being entirely made up of Bo Diddley covers. It's recorded live in mono, and it sounds more or less like a dictaphone recording of a raunchy garage-rock band banging it out in some room somewhere -- which is precisely what this is.  Childish translates Diddley's swagger well through his vocals, and the covers are fairly faithful; nothing is sped up or riffed upon (as far as I can tell - I'm not quite super familiar with the originals), and there's a ramshackle quality that suits the material well. 'Greatest Lover in the World' sounds great when recast from the mouth of a white Englishman; 'Keep Your Big Mouth Shut' shows his own vocal capabilities, and has a nice sassy snarl to it. Somehow this all works and doesn't raise any obvious questions about race or appropriation: it's a tribute that is fun, heartfelt, and an easy listen. The rough fidelity helps - it's as much about the sound of this record as the performance, if this makes any sense. Mono records on vinyl often sound great, and this is blistering and raw, especially when the cymbals start to blur together into a tinny haze. Somehow everything is exuberant enough to work, and thus this document of a band likely just fucking around one afternoon, nearly 30 years ago now, is somehow completely fresh and living.

Deerhunter - 'Halcyon Digest' (4AD)

A disturbing, matte cover. White vinyl. Many typefaces. Sadness lingers, sticky from the residue of Microcastle just a few hours earlier. When it bounces, it bounces, but I keep going back to brittle suburban concrete, the sounds of parking lots strewn with tire streaks. Darkness always doesn't make much sense, or is it since? So many typefaces in conflict, but that's the errant afterthought of language which flows through this and so many other Cox-penned platters; words blow across this parking lot, carefully chosen as they are, and different bits stick. Bright lights, dim glows; it's not a contradiction. Memory is everywhere - it seeps through the cracks in the guitar arpeggios, dripping down like oil over every surface. Explicitly called in titles and lyrics, but that's always been there. Let's leave the death trip behind for the real pain is in living. Or something likethat. And yet this is done with so many major key uplifts, the delicate taste of building soundramps, a band coming together to create a vision with less reliance on the wet, processed soups and a strange drive towards, well, accessibility. It's not just a teenage nostalgia at play here; it's movies, shot on super-8, of dusty rooms slightly out of focus, with no people to be seen. There's an absence of affect at times, despite the strains of emotion in the voice ('Basement Scene')!  And when it's pointed - 'He Would Have Laughed', dedicated to Jay Reatard who after all covered 'Fluorescent Grey' so brilliantly - the loss is just all the more bigger, cast over with a withdrawn pallor. Halcyon it is, the next great step forward. The 'other guy' wrote two songs here, and my god are they great - 'Fountain Stairs' rings out like complex bubblegum, magic and delicate. It's Deerhunter at their best, and perhaps their masterpiece they'll never top. But I wait.

Cabaret Voltaire - 'Red Mecca' (Rough Trade)

There's a lot to like in Red Mecca, particularly if you dig cold-yet-still-rambuctious songs in the CV mold. But things are so sharp and metallic it's more like rust than mould. Side one is pretty slow but continues from Mix-Up's more thoughtful moments, with lots of open spaces, more acoustic percussion, and more clearly enunciated singing. Though it's not exactly crooning. It culminates in 'A Thousand Ways' which feels weightless and never-ending, but without any exaggerated qualities at all. I've always gone to Cabaret Voltaire for their experimentalism, their approach to tapes and the interesting guitars vs tapes textures. But the songwriting here isn't half bad. Side two feels slightly more song-oriented, though there aren't any chart-toppers here. I didn't grok enough lyrical content to relate to anything specifically, but there's definitely a confidence that was lacking before. 'Red Mask' is practically a single, with Watson's tape loops dancing all around the more standard industrial rock grind. And it's pitted against 'Black Mask' (the titles are probably something to do with contrasting views of Islam or religion?) which is somewhat looser, around a standard mid-tempo drumbeat and with bleating synth hissing and distant atmospheric textures skirting around a songform. This record reminds me a lot of Savage Republic in a variety of musical manners - the monobeat, the chanted vocalising, the percussive single-mindedness. And like Savage Republic, Cabaret Voltaire are an 80's avant-rock band that hasn't really had their dues yet, at least in the sense that we're not making documentaries about them and they aren't doing reunion tours and these records aren't being reissued. And like Savage Republic, Cabaret Voltaire maybe didn't directly influence many of my peers but more likely were an influence on an influence. One inversion is that Savage Republic were a rock band with heavy industrial leanings, and I would probably flip that around to describe Cabaret Volatire. But like the last record, there are a few guitar lines that, while not exactly Led Zeppelin, have some sort of anthemic, cheerful lift that looks a bit more like on AOR radio than you'd expect -- in this case I'd say the harmonic progression of 'Split Second Feeling'. 'Spread the Virus' is pure evil though - despite a slight free jazz/circus feel at times - it's a goofy dark trip trying to break out of a straightjacket, and there's a nice shuffle to the beat despite all of the tortured growling. Moody, yes, and thirty years old now!

Albert Ayler - 'Witches and Devils' (Arista)

The date shows that this was actually recorded before Spiritual Unity but I've always thought of it as later. 'Witches and Devils' begins with a very dark, slowly unfolding dirge with Norman Howard's brutally shrill trumpet fluttering around Ayler's painful tones. Its a phenomenal track, showing not just a great depth of spirit and character but also an incredible level of musical interplay. Earle Henderson and Henry Grimes are both playing bass on it though they keep clear of each other, and let Sunny Murray switch his focus at his own will. But like all of Ayler's greatest tunes, there's something to connect to - a very emotional, soulful piece that is still exploratory in an unflinching manner. 'Spirits' bears no resemblance to the track on Spiritual Unity, instead being a somewhat jaunty, upbeat number with Ayler busting into the higher register. Side 2's 'Holy Holy' continues this high/low dichotomy. At times Ayler drops into familiar melodies ('Ghosts') and Howard takes a pretty squawky, flutter solo that sounds like an eagle caught in a cement mixer. The rhythm is upbeat throughout the whole piece and the liner notes claim this is the same tune as 'The Wizard' though the presence of the trumpet and a different bass player make it unrecognizable to me. The solos are long but the musicians all feel when to occasionally slow it down and start a new movement, based around a strong, melodic gutpunch. 'Saints' is the closer, and it's a beauty - another sad, open, slow, reflective number but whereas 'Witches and Devils' had something focused about it, this is on the verge of falling apart. Ayler's melody is truly beautiful here, and Howard squawks around it over Henry Grimes' slow, walking bass. It's a bit too haphazard to really touch you but that's what I love about it. If I have one complaint about this record it's the recording quality, which puts the bass(es) quite low in the mix and takes away the power of Murray's drumming, which I imagine (if you were actually there) was always a pretty forceful, explosive thing to witness. But now that I think about it, Murray's drumming is underwheming (on a fidelity level) on most of these classic 60's free records. You can hear Al's vibrato expanding and contracting haphazardly, even within the same note; I've always loved that because it just throttles you - but I wonder if the saxerati at the time just saw it as sloppy playing.

Albert Ayler Trio - 'Spiritual Unity' (ESP/Get Back)

Did you know that the symbol 'Y' predates recorded history and represents the rising spirit of man? You can also gleam from the back cover alone that we are entering the realm of spirits, wizards and ghosts. But this isn't some Druid-worshipping 20-sided die record, it's Spiritual Unity, notable for being the breakthrough Albert Ayler record, the first non-Esperanto release on the ESP label, and as invigorating of a statement of purpose as there ever existed in the spheres of jazz, folk, or primitive musics. I know I'm prone to hyperbole (as well as clichés) but it's not really an exaggeration to say that Albert Ayler changed music forever -- and with this record. If Albert Ayler had one tune that everyone knows it's 'Ghosts', and this is the definitive recording(s) of it. First we get the original variation at the beginning and the second variation at the end - the first is bold, brash and iconic and the second is a bit more stumbling and open. 'The Wizard' is no sloucher but it's 'Spirits' that is the real sleeper. I often get Ayler tunes confused because they all of these eerier melodies that come and go, plus they all have similar titles like 'Vibrations' and 'Spirits', etc. But when you listen to a lot of Ayler in a row, as I'm about to, it all starts to melt together into one massive floating body of work. There's still ups and downs from record to record - I mean, the trio here absolutely kills compared to the Danish dudes on My Name Is (no offense meant); however I've heard Spiritual Unity a zillion times while the weirdness on the last record I've only listened to maybe once or twice before, so I might be more likely to pull it out. In fact, I used to own an original copy of this on ESP that I found on the cheap but never listened to cause it was beat-up, instead going to this lovely 180g reissue for actual listening purposes. I have NO IDEA what happened to the ESP release; maybe it's my punishment for having two copies of something. I always say this is a record accumulation, not a collection; forgive me for straying from this philosophy. But back to the music -- there's many reasons why this record spat in the face of jazz. Murray's drumming is probably the first anyone ever heard anyone being that crazy, and that free. The beat is often just nonexistent - the pulse even flutters and skips - but it's still alive and propulsive. Gary Peacock is an unsung hero of free jazz - he is perfectly suited to play with Murray, for he's content to meander and knows exactly what to contribute. The tonal center of the music shifts continually, but still has more fucking soul than anything you ever heard on Coleman's Free Jazz or Tristano's forgotten 1940's improv dickery. And Ayler - I mean, it sounds like he's in another room sometimes, and it sounds like he's shoved the microphone up his tenor at other points. He blows like a frog's belly full of broken glass. These shards are violent but they come from him, straight in from his dirty Cleveland upbringing. This will be endlessly reissued til the end of time, until everyone owns a copy - at which point true spiritual unity will be attained.

Art Ensemble of Chicago - 'Phase One' (America)

America Records is actually a French label but the liner notes don't tell us where this was recorded. The title could mean many things - some intergalactic plan to rule the world, or some special instructions for hooking up your speakers in some Brian Eno method - but really I think it's misleading, cause this sounds to me like the beginning of phase TWO for the AE of C. The record opens with Jarman's 'Ohnedaruth', a swirling mass of oceanic cymbals that explodes into full-on, free, loft-style blowing -- and it never lets up. There's solo after solo and the guys sound great but the intensity never lets up and it becomes a bit, I dunno, horizontal? Bowie somehow manages to sound a bit richer than the rest though maybe that's just my bias. The second side is a tribute to Albert Ayler wonderfully titled 'Lebert Aaly', except it makes me think that my sides might be mislabeled. Cause, the rocking reverberations on 'Ohnedaruth' sound more like the ESP-styled Ayler records, almost like these genre-busters are dipping into a genre to show their affection for the then-just-deceased Cleveland gale. 'Lebert Aaly' would actually resemble a Jarman composition more, with it's open cadences, thick chords, and careful pauses. It's definitely more on the modern classical tip and why would you compose a tribute to Ayler in that style? It's not a eulogisin' piece, at least not to these ears. But that doesn't mean I don't think it's beautiful and dynamic and shows (on yet another LP) a different side of these dudes from the 11 sides we've already heard.

Art Bears - 'Winter Songs' (Ralph)

I'm not sure where the idea of the "power trio" first came from, but I think it should apply here. There's not a weak link in this triangle. My copy of Winter Songs is missing an inner sleeve -- I image lyrics and credits or some sort of liner notes should be there. So I don't know if there are lots of guest musicians present or it studio magic and overdubs are being used to make this mix so thick, because it can't be Frith playing the bass and the piano at the same time. It doesn't really matter except that I wanted to talk about how in addition to the peerless compositions on this album, the actual playing is remarkably expressive. On a song like "The Summer Wheel," Frith and Cutler are so in-sync that it's hard to believe. Cutler's drumming is so languid, yet with a momentum; Frith chases after it, and occasionally kicks it forward like a stone being kicked down the road. If Hopes and Fears is their pastoral record, this is their gothic one. Although there's still an overall medieval theme in the lyrics (and artwork), this is the sound of the black death. The earthy chord changes are gone and in place are strange intervals and macabre tunings. Even if the piece is someone bouncy, like '3 Figures', there's something still a bit doom 'n gloom going on. 'Rats and Monkeys' was a single from this album and it's easy to see why Ralph records would jump on it. The frenetic pace, layered affected vocals and herky-jerky violin part make it feel like the end of the world is happening. Krause really explodes here; most of the vocals are double-tracked or more, and she seems more inspired. The gusto is used to dramatic effect - she has a way of turning on the electricity in a way that the most powerful vocalists in music can do (Beefheart comes to mind, actually). With the political changes going on in Britain when this was recorded, you can feel the rage seeping through tone-refracted misery. The UK was entering a long winter and these are the chronicles. If this is a protest album, its avant-obfuscations probably meant they could only preach to the converted. I first heard it too late anyway - well into the reign of New Labour, which is a whole other can of worms, a horror probably unthinkable to them at the time.

Ara - 'Pick up and Run 2007' (What The ...?)

Lexington, Kentucky husband-and-wife duo Ara grew out of her solo project; he plays in Hair Police and other weird projects but brings the dirty lightbulbs to this recording.  We get two live performances, one on each side, followed by a coda of fireworks and the sounds of "hanging out".  It's a weird title, Pick up and Run, as it somewhat jars with the hanging out feeling; the music, well, it loops back on itself all the time too.  Ara really showcases Sara O'Keefe's talents with reeds;  despite the murky fidelity you can hear a great range of tones.  Actually, the murky fidelity enhances this record - it's unmistakably part of the Ara sound, if such a thing exists.  The vocals and reverb sing through the vinyl and my copy is a little bit warped so there's an even better ebb and flow to these already elliptical musings.  The second side has a drumset, musing in an appropriately lackadaisacal Cloudy Murry manner.  When it starts to get too jazz it pulls back into psychedelic folkdrone, and vice-versa; this tension is pretty key to the understanding of the whole album.  The self-released cassette, which will maybe be reviewed on the forthcoming Erratic Delusional Majestic Spindle Preprocessor blog, feels like the first step and this a steady gait.  We await the gallop (and apologies for the horse metaphor, but, hey, it's Central Kentucky we're talking about ....)

Antennas Erupt! - 'Magical Energy' (S-S)

Antennas Erupt! - I guess the exclamation mark is part of it - are some young guys from a jazz background, with a California vibe.  Though the horns lean on melody they display a strong predilection for getting 'free with it; still, this record is a million miles from some neo-freejazz ESP-worshipping skronk fest.  Instead they bring in some grooving rock structures, and melodies that suggest the finer folk-dance flavors of Black Saint and Sinner Lady, Liberation Music Orchestra, and Carla Bley's work (all of which will be visited in future installments of DUSAET).  It's the good side of fusion, though this bears no relation to stuff like Tony Wiliams Lifetime or Bitches Brew.  Antennas Erupt! are into the good life - fun and energetic, driving on the freeway with the top down, eating at reasonably priced ethnic restaurants - but with a purpose.  Serious, but not too serious.  Fun but not too frivolous.  They're willing to sing a bit, and compose some great aggro-classical counterpoint, but open up the throttle a few times too.    I've seen them live and can vouch that they are a brilliant live experience; despite the relative 'accessibility' of their sound I think they might exist outside of any 'scene', and thus recognition may continue to 'elude' them.   Versatility is the name of their game and I have no doubts they could shift between a totally direct message and the wildest explorations of the outer soundosphere.  Plus, you gotta love a band with a song called "Healthy Vaginal Walls" that doesn't sound like the Mentors.  S-S has done a lovely edition here in white vinyl with a cool blue and white screened foldout cover; I'm not sure if there's any still available but it's definitely worth tracking this down!

Amon Düül II - 'Phallus Dei' (Sunset)

The more technically skilled side of the Amon Düül collective made this first album in 1969 and started a whole new strain of German rock music that is still influencing kids today. The first side is surprisingly conventional rock, though of the very progressive variety, if progressive means lots of chord changes, modal riffs, and polyrhythms. Side two is the 20 minute title track - which is a pretty great title, if you sprechen sie bit of Deutsch - and it starts off in a very progressive way, if progressive means dark synthetic hellbeast screaming drone vortex. It falls into place though with the ragin' riffs and rhythm shifts, before taking on a weird neo-classical/folk content. Maybe I just get all tingly whenever I hear a violin being played like that but I think they were really looking at Grosse Bretagne. When you can feel the fire ticking it's most effective, but I keep thinking ahead to Yeti (which sadly won't be reviewed here, as we don't have a copy) and the gnarly wizard cookout that was to follow. I'm pretty sure I saw a Kurt Kren film one that had this album as the soundtrack, though it looked more like the proper German cover than this disappointing British value series cover. Interesting though: the back cover touts some of the other records in the series that may be of interest to Amon Düül fans, such as Shirley Bassey and Del Shannon.

Byron Allen Trio (ESP)

Source: Jerry's, 4 May 2002, priced at $7 but discounted to $6. Thanks, Jerry!

I'll let you in on a secret about Dislocated Underbite Spinal Alphabetical Encourager Templates: those images you see on every post, of the album under discussion, are mostly stolen from elsewhere on the Internet. I only bother to snap a photo if I can't find an existing image that matches my album cover. So this pristine b&w jpg to the left is actually from Amazon and probably represents the CD issue. My LP, an original on ESP from '65, has this image on a yellowing piece of paper pasted on a thick warped black cardboard sleeve. The vinyl itself is in terrible condition -- probably rated "poor" if I was a collecting type -- and sounds accordingly fucked. The surface noise actually overpowers the music, and let's be honest - this wouldn't be anyone's favorite ESP record anyway. Though that may be because the Byron Allen Trio are a bit overshadowed by some of the label's other big names. I don't know any of these guys but they play well, finding a post-Ornette vibe that keeps taking three steps forward and then two steps to the side. Drummer Theo Robinson plays like a trappier Sunny Murray, and Allen's alto is a sneaky one. Maceo Gilchrist is the bassist but like many of these early ESP sides, the recording doesn't do any favors to the low end so there's points where I have to strain to hear. During his solos the surface noise destroys any hope of understanding but it's cool - it's like hearing a record from 100 years ago. The cover art is actually pretty cool in an introspective/freaky way.