Quick, name someone who played with Fela, and Ginger Baker, and was in a band decades later with a member of the Clash. Too easy? Yeah, maybe, but I still find it pretty remarkable that Tony Allen, who was Fela's drummer and musical director, would end up in a band with Paul Simonon (The Good, The Bad & The Queen). Allen is self taught. Highly revered. The shit. Fela once said "without Tony Allen, there would be no Afrobeat." He would know.
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Many of you may not know life without accessible computers. Accessible at all, let alone home computers. You may have never looked at a card catalog, a periodical index, or old newspapers on reels of microfilm. You may not know what the Dewey Decimal System is. These were all required to do the most basic of research. And all would take place in a building outside of the home, requiring travel and time. But you've got Google. On your thing. How badly do you want to research something? How much effort do you want to put forth? Crack your knuckles punks, Alan Lomax wanted it bad.
Lomax was a fiend supreme. In a perfect world his archives would be online. False. Because it is an imperfect world, and his archives are online. Folk music of all sorts, blues, jazz, country, zydeco, cajun, and more, and that's just from the U.S. He went all over the country, not just the better known pockets. He also traveled, extensively, overseas. All over the Caribbean, Europe, Russia and North Africa. Lomax is not only one of the greatest music historians and archivists of any era, he is one of the greatest fiends, of any era and of any field. We are all Blues Hammer before him.
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Hailu Mergia is not a name I knew before today. I was looking for something else altogether, and saw a link to Awesome Tapes From Africa, a site that lives up to it's name, on someone's blog roll. Hadn't been there for a while, so what the hell. Scrolling stopped on a Hailu Mergia post, because it looked like something that might be interesting. It was interesting. Fu-huck was it. The song that's posted (alas, streaming only) is one of those songs that you can't really fit into a genre. There's just too much going on. Mergia was Ethiopian, the album is from 1977, that much I know. As far as what he sounds like, you can hear jazz, Ethio-jazz, funk, afro-funk, reggae and just about everything in between. If the song is any indication of what the whole LP is like, my shopping list just got longer. I have no idea what planet it was recorded on.
After further digging, I ran into another song of his, "Musicawi Silt", that the Daktaris covered a few years back, Totally figures (mumble mumble, those Daptone affiliated eggheads). It's a great song, so we're two for two, but that's when it's the Pyramids on Bandstand all over again. In other words, deflating. A later Mergia cut revealed a sound steeped in low budget synth. Still confounding, but yikes!
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Nice. The song that was left off the first Stooges album, "Asthma Attack". It's a complete mess. It is not their version of "Revolution No. 9", nor is it their Metal Machine Music. It's just jacking off. But, hell, I'll listen to the Stooges they didn't want you to hear.
The song is posted at YouTube, along with alternate mixes of all the songs on the first album. Good listening even if you know the original LP like the back of your hand. And because "Asthma Attack" made me want to hear some Fun House era wigging out, there's a couple of those below too.
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Here's something of a wake up call for you surf music enthusiasts. Many of you may know the Pyramids from their song "Penetration", a top shelf surf instrumental released in 1963 and on just about every surf music compilation ever released. It is worthy, it's a great song, but it's just about the only thing anyone knows of them. There's a reason for that. Like many of the surf bands that you know only one or two songs of, and presume their other stuff is good, it doesn't always work like that. Sometimes, when you take a second glance you catch something upsetting, if not horrifying.
I feel it is my duty to prevent others from experiencing the trauma that I endured tonight. The Pyramids were from Long Beach. Okay, Southern California, everything's looking as it should. They've got shaved heads. The nuts! They had a black dude in the band, a rarity in surf music. They did "Penetration". If you add all that up, they sound like a can't miss band. So when you see a clip on YouTube, you're know going to watch it. Well sit down, I've something to tell you. If you put the Pyramids in front of a camera, they become complete goons. I know this is hard to bear, but life's like that. Complete and utter goons. You think you can just go back to the source, and hear the flip of the 45, and it will be some sort of reverb safe harbor. But you'll see, you'll see the title, "Here Comes Marsha". It's ain't looking good. It isn't good. Though the Pyramids did release other worthy instrumentals, this should serve as a cautionary post. You wander around willy-nilly, you will get stung.
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Attention Jay-Jays fiends (both of you): the complete recorded works of this fine Dutch beat band that I thought was out of print two years ago, is still floating around. I ran into it at Ugly Things' web store. There's only two copies, so don't sleep. Check the cuts below. "Shake It Some More" should be all the impetus you need, and the guitar freakout that is "Cruncher" will put you over the edge. Not only that, the bass player's name is Joop Oonk, the greatest name this side of your of comic books.
Ugly Things is, of course, the completely fiendish magazine and label, run by Mike Stax, who also wrote the liner notes for the Jay-Jays thing. He started the magazine in the early eighties as a photocopied and stapled fanzine. It has since grown to a couple hundred pages, so detail oriented that it makes Mojo look like child's play. Stax, who moved to the U.S. to join the Crawdaddys decades ago, has been in the Loons for the past several years. If you're in San Diego, you can check them this Saturday at the Casbah for the release party of their latest LP (with the Schitzophonics opening!). You can check some Loons tunes [eye-rolling word usage] on their Facebook page. And you ought to poke around the Ugly Things site. Among other night eaters over there is Searchin' For Shake, the Garage/Psych Compilation Database, which is just what the name implies. Bookmark that sucker.
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Well waddya know, another band reunited. Sort of. There's only one original member, but that's of little concern, because the fact that there is even a "reunion" is kind of remarkable in itself. The Sloths weren't exactly a household name, even back in the day. But they put out one 45 that ended up on one of the Back From the Grave garage compilations. The 45 became hot property, going for as much as six grand. This for a 45 that Garage Hangover describe as "recorded by actual Neanderthals in their cave studio..." Yeah. That sounds good, not six grand good, but good enough to go one step further. Thankfully, Ugly Things did the dirty work for us, reissuing the 45, replete with a reproduction of the lowest of low budget sleeve. I picked up the reissue when it came out, autographed by three of the original members to boot, but sadly, it now looks as though it's sold out.
Worry not, ye who must have physical product. It what may be the most surprising development of the whole Sloths story, the reunited version have finished an LP and it might actually be good. If the two pre-release songs posted are any indication, it sounds pretty damn tight. Listen to the new version of "Makin' Love" below. Holy time travel Batman, it's nineteen fucking sixty five!
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Oh yeeaaaahh, Vicki Anderson. Another member of James Brown's funky family, she shared the stage with the GFOS from 1965 to '68, was replaced by Marva Whitney for about a year, and then rejoined in 1969 for three more years. Yeah. She was Brown's go-to female singer, in the prime of his career. If you were to guess that she had some top shelf stuff of her own, you'd be right.
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A buddy of mine linked to a Boss Hog video today and it occurred to me that it's been ages since I've listened to them. All I have of theirs is on cassettes, and maybe a 45 or two buried in a poorly sorted mess in the hall closet. Regardless, a hassle. So I went digging and I'll be damned if I'm not going to take advantage of a web search I was going to do anyways.
I'm not sure I ever gave Boss Hog a fair shake. They had some hurdles. First off, the couple thing, Jon Spencer and Cristina Martinez in the same band. That would be enough of an obstacle, but the fact that Martinez has model-like looks made it tougher. It pretty much boils down to reverse discrimination. The only way they manage to make it past those bugaboos is because I do recognize Spencer's stature as some sort of noisy elder. He's been at it a long time, in some bands that are better than others. But it's often abrasive, and that trumps all of that other stuff.
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In my ongoing quest to dig through every digital dollar bin there is to find weird shit, I somehow ended up spending more time than any rational person would poking around looking at stuff from Singapore. Why Singapore? A random click at Radio Infusion. After a couple oddball instrumentals, I went looking for an image and landed on a gallery of Asian record covers. Consider that LP cover above. You know you want to hear what the hell that sounds like. That's just one of hundreds of album covers in the gallery. Your evening would be shot too.
Here's the instrumentals that instigated tonights distraction. There were a lot of instrumental Ventures wannabes back then. Technically, they were proficient, but the instrumentation and the production makes them sound a little off. That's what I dig about them. If you don't compare them to Western instrumental bands, you'll find ample weirdness. There's more at Radio Diffusion. The images are two unrelated bands from Singapore, because that's how these wild goose chases start.
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If you are at all into reggae and haven't seen The Harder They Come, you have missed an entire semester and you will be put back. Go get the soundtrack. Watch the film. It'll not only school you on the varied strains of early seventies reggae, but with the film you'll get an idea of what 1970s Kingston was like. And those of you who are familiar with both, you can stand around looking like a big shot, or you can try a nifty exercise. Listen to the songs below and reflect on when you first heard them, or saw the film, and how it's shaped your views on reggae ever since.
Production on a sequel, The Harder They Come Pt 2 is scheduled to start later this year, with Jimmy Cliff reviving his role, despite the fact that he was shot up and presumed dead in the original. You can read about it here. In the meantime check these. If you're still not convinced, poke around for other clips from the original. They're all over the place.
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I am well past the age of requiring adult supervision, but when I hear this song I have a hard time resisting the urge to crawl out my bedroom window and go shoplifting.
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Maybe you were too jacked up on spikey haircuts and messed up clothing to give the Saints half a chance when they were first picked up by Sire Records in the U.S. back in the day. I gotta admit, there was so much coming out when that first wave of punk and, er, "new wave" that I didn't slow down long enough to weigh pros and cons. Bands had to look right and sound right, and, above all, be as far away from the new wave tag as possible. Being that they were promoted along side Richard Hell and the Voidoids, the Talking Heads, and the Dead Boys as something like "the new sound of the new wave" or some other nonsense, the Saints didn't stand much of a chance. Longish hair plus new wave? See ya!
This was the prevailing attitude. The late great Claude "Kickboy Face" Bessy, from The Decline of Western Civilization, shot in 1980.
I'd eventually come back to the Saints after they were already on their third album. Punk had gone the way of hardcore and that early hardcore shit, at least in Southern California, had become an even more confining sub-sect, with an even more stringent unspoken code of cool. (I was fortunate, I lived here, the best possible post punk segue.) Anyways, I'm still listening to the Saints here and there, but I haven't heard the entire first LP in at least decades, if I even have at all. Blah, blah, lotta catching up to do, blah, these sound good to me. Better than good. "Erotic Neurotic" is four minutes that does not let up, an ear wax removal kit.
Killed By Death, the host of the two cuts below, is a great site to dig around. Punk, hardcore, oi, and related sounds, primarily from the late seventies through the eighties, and some beyond. There's a lot of good classic stuff over there, sprinkled among the well represented, misguided, every scene has one idiot band, variety.
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I wasn't originally looking for Billy Ball. Hell, I never heard of him before last night, but, man oh man, does he deserve a mention. When I visited the link for the original of "Tighten Up" that I linked to last night, there were seven covers of it, a few of them top notch, with the one by Ball and his band, the Upsetters, kicking the most ass. So, off I was.
I didn't get far. As it turns out Billy Ball and the Upsetters didn't record a whole lot. And there's not much that could be found as far as a bio. But what I did run into were a couple he self released, the physical 45 of which has gone for as much as £4000 ($5900 US). That's according to Now Again Records, who also host the only fruitful mention I could find online.
Ball and the Upsetters' "Tighten Up Tighter" does just that, it's Archie Bell's mob all hopped up on something. The two others are the self released cuts. Yeah baby, dig it. What DIY used to be.
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It's always nice when you can finally get something that bugged you behind you. You can finally stop thinking about it. Some of you, noting the sleeve above, already know where I'm going. "I'm Archie Bell and the Drells". Not ten words into the song, a big fat grammatical error. It's bugged me for decades. Really. So, today, when I finally heard Drell sing "We're Archie Bell and the Drells", I could officially close the book.
There's another Drells thing down there too, the original of "There's Gonna Be a Showdown", the song the Dolls covered. What the hell, the Dolls' cover is down there too, just to remind you what they could do with a song.
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I was doing an image search for a different band when I landed on the photo of the tough guys above. You can read what it says. Snake and the Armpits. Totally inane. I had to. Expecting to hear some sort of late seventies punksploitation, cocked and ready to crack wise, I went looking. Mr. Big Time Charlie on the prowl. Yeah, well, with one click of a mouse, I found out what kind of an asshole I was. Snake and the Armpits were a doo-wop group, a damn good doo-wop group if the one song I've heard is any indication. Here we go. Dipped in shit again.
Here's a few that I just ran across at Roots and Culture, all originating from a 2007 Soul Jazz compilation, Jamaica Funk. Though how they classify as funk, I'm not sure. But two out of the three are solid jams. The first, "Rhodesia" by the Rebels has some really cool trumpet in the second half, and a very heavy groove. Winston Wright and the Upsetters' "Jam #1" is some seriously fucked up keyboard showcase. I'm not saying anything else. You have to hear it for yourself. The third one is a sweet vocal number from the Chosen Few, whom I've always found to be sweet and vocal.
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Some of you might already know this because the word has apparently been out for a while, but I just found out. (No one tells me anything.) The Sonics have a new studio LP coming out on March 31. (Certainly one of you knuckleheads could have said something.) If you have an ounce of trepidation, thinking they've mellowed with age, you'd be forgiven. It has been four and a half decades since their last studio LP. But worry not ye fiends of larynx shredding vocals, crunchy guitars and filthy sax. They still have it. With three of the original members, guitarist Larry Parypa, sax player Rob Lind, and Gerry Roslie on organ. you have the meat of the band. Particularly essential is Roslie, he and his indestructible pipes. Worn maybe, but not off the road. The one new song that's online has me licking my chops. I'm about to do something I've never done. I'm pre-ordering an LP. Dig this one:
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A surf band from Colorado. Yeah, sure, you think. You're partly right. The Astronauts played some pretty mean instrumentals, but when they open their mouths, poof. All of my interest dissipates. With vocals, they just sound bland. Compare. Start with the first three, all instrumentals and shit hot surf music. Then the video. It pales. Still, there are so many contemporary surf bands that could learn a thing or two from the Astronauts, particularly some vintage restraint. Instrumental bands didn't overdo it back then. Nowadays, there are authentic sounding surf bands, you just have to navigate through the Blueshammer versions to find them, and that ain't no fun at all.
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Dyke and the Blazers' music is probably elementary stuff for some of you. Sorry, take a pass tonight. This is for the people who've never heard of them. Hey you, you people who've never heard of Dyke and the Blazers: get with it. Start cramming now. Had he not died at the age of twenty seven, Dyke Christian might have given a number of soul singers a run for their money. James Brown, Wilson Pickett, and all points in between. Cram, baby, cram.
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Musica del Alma is back, and I am stoked to no end. Until a week of so ago, there had been no movement over there. A lesser blog would have been left for dead. But it had become a favorite of mine, so I kept checking back. It's not like there wasn't enough there to dig through for the last year and a half. It's chocked full of odd obscure Latin music, of all types; traditional, soul, funk, and rock, and just plain weird. The newest post is a mix, but there's some more action at the accompanying site, Discos Alma. Three mixes (so far) and a link to records for sale on ebay, all at set prices (that seem relatively fair) and most with long sound clips (wink wink nudge nudge).
Here's a few from Musica del Alma. They've all been posted before, but it'll give you an idea of what goes on over there.
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I'd never heard Dee Dee Warwick's cover of "Suspicious Minds" before tonight, but it is an instant favorite. An instant all time favorite, it's that good. Memphis, Detroit, New Orleans and Kingston all rolled into one. You might not hear it. It helps to listen to what each isolated instrument is doing, because you can hear isolated instruments. There's a whole lotta stuff going on, without getting too thick. It's just a great production. Close your eyes and imagine yourself in the control booth as it's being recorded. Believe me, you'll be sorry when it ends. This song is epic.
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There's a cover of "Walk On By" over at Soul Sides, by some band called Spontaneous Combustion. It's not bad, but it just wasn't getting it done. After just about a minute of it, I had to hear Isaac Hayes's extend-o-version. He did a lot of songs like that, long drawn out dramatic slow jams; the slowest of slow. Here's two.
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If you have any vintage reggae in your collection, chances are you have some Sound Dimension. You might not have any records credited to them, but believe me, you've heard them. They were the house band at Studio One, one of the most active labels from the early sixties through the late seventies, and arguably the most important label and studio in the history of the genre. Initially led by organist Jackie Mittoo, Sound Dimension had a rotating line up comprised of reggae's heavy hitters, notably Leroy Sibbles (bass), Leroy "Horsemouth" Wallace (drums), Ernest Ranglin (guitar), Cedric Brooks and Roland Alphonso (saxophone), Vin Gordon (trombone), and Bobby Ellis (trumpet).
Prior to 1967, with a slightly different line-up, they were known as the Soul Vendors. As the story goes, Jackie Mittoo toured England with the band, and when they returned guitarist Rick Frater brought home an echo effect branded Sound Dimension. Viola! A new name for the band was adopted. (A rare Coxsone Dodd screw up. What name could possibly be better than the Soul Vendors?) They're all over everything. If you know anything at all about reggae, you know that riddims (rhythms), particularly the good ones, are used again and again, oft times for decades. Such is the case with Sound Dimensions'. Their tracks were practically a template for the genre.
Here's a mish mash, with a few of the lesser know tracks, along with a few some of you will know well. You fiends should check out "El Cumbanchero" by Puerto Rican composer Rafael Hernandez. It's the song that "Rockfort Rock" is based on.
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No messing around tonight. One song and I'm out. But you get three versions. The one that started it was Leroy Sibbles's cover of Charles Wright and the Watts 103rd Street Rhythm Band's "Express Yourself". It's surprisingly funky coming from the house bassist for Studio One and one third of the Heptones. Funky enough to make me want to hear the original again. And you can guess what came after that.
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The seventies were the dark ages for rockabilly. Beyond tiny pockets of aging fiends, very few record buyers were interested in anything beyond the big hitters. You might be able to find a greatest hits package of a few old rockers like Elvis, Little Richard or Gene Vincent, but the compilations of obscure rockabilly stuff didn't exist, at least not in the U.S. It wasn't until the late seventies that compilations started popping up, most of them from an influx of imports titles from Europe and the UK, where rockabilly never really died. One of the earliest that was relatively easy to find was a compilation of rockabilly sides from the King and Federal labels. That's where I first heard Mac Curtis, the guy with the snazzy flat top above. He's in his late teens in that photo, already showing a bit of attitude. I didn't know that back then. I didn't know what he looked like, or anything about him. The album didn't have shit for liner notes, nothing much more than song titles and artists names.
The songs below were all on the same early compilation. It has since been superseded by other King rockabilly and hillbilly compilations that are much more thorough, with more liner notes, and twice as many songs, and they cost less. This would be where I mutter something like "you kids don't know how good you've got it..." And yes, as a matter of fact, I do want you to get the fuck off my lawn.
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I give. Alton Ellis's cover of the Delphonics' "La La Means I Love You" just threw me all off course, not that I had one. But it totally hit the spot. Blew the sourpuss right out of my skull. It made me forget where I was going. So it's Alton Ellis night.
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Bo Diddley's name isn't mentioned as often these days, not nearly as much as it was when he was alive. Not because it isn't mentioned by a lot of people, because it is. The decline in Bo Diddley references can be attributed to one thing. He's dead. He's no longer singing it, as he did thousands of times when he was alive. Sometimes it seems like half his songs have his name in the title or the lyrics. But that's part of the Bo package, He wrote himself into songs, made some of his own guitars, had his own personal beat, and he recorded and self produced some of his own records, in his own studio. He earned the right to say his own name, as many times as he wanted to. Whenever you hear the name Bo Diddley, don't think of some tireless self promoter, think of the man that practically invented DIY.
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