BACON STREET FESTIVAL OF THE ARTS

The pixels from the last post weren't even dry when I got the call from my neighborhood record store (Cow) that the Flat Duo Jets' "Two Headed Cow" (the album I wrote about) had come in. I had enough time driving today to listen to it 1 1/2 times and the whole thing is great. You forget that you're hearing only vocals, guitar and drums. Having been recorded live, the sound can get a little muddy, but turn it up and you are there. Hopefully, at some time, you've experienced an evening in a room dank in a rock n' roll stench. Maybe a little drunk or hazy from the late hour, in a room where everybody is moving; everybody is dancing, laughing, fighting or trying to get laid. And the rock n' roll is blasting, creating a silent movie atmoshphere at a loud volume. That's where this album puts you.

To top things off, today the mail brought a copy of Mike McCarthy's "Teenage Tupelo", a low budget rock n' roll sexploitation movie I've tried to track down for over ten years. More about that after a viewing. In the meantime, here's a sneak peek (Chapters 1-6).

"Daaannng," you say, "how much more culture can fit into one post?" How about spoken word, Trastos style? Here's a link to 70's drag racing radio commercials, in mp3 format:

Drag Racing Radio Spots.

THIS IS WHAT SWEAT, ALCOHOL AND CIGARETTE SMOKE SOUNDS LIKE.

The first time I heard the Flat Duo Jets was in the late 80's and it was, unbelievable as it sounds now, on MTV. It was a segment on singer-guitarist Dexter Romweber, filmed in the shack he lived in behind his family's house, in Carrboro, North Carolina. He was just a kid, about 19, and had a remarkable reverence for early rock n' roll, specifically citing Elvis, Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, Little Richard and Gene Vincent ("there ain't gonna be a wildest [sic] rocker ever again"...). The end of the segment showed a short clip of the Flat Duo Jets performing in front of the shack. The one thing that was striking about the footage is that they seemed like the real thing, nothing forced and not posing. Primitive rock n' roll without a spec of show biz. Very few bands were playing this sort of stuff at the time and it was a full-on aberration on MTV.

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I had one of their early records, Go Go Harlem Baby, which I played the shit out of, but lost track of at some point (I used to lose a lot of records.) A while back, I bought a used copy of Lucky Eye, their last album. It wasn't nearly as raw as I had remembered them sounding and I was kinda disappointed. Then I saw who produced it, Chris Stamey, an 80's indie pop guy who I've always considered a little too tame for my tastes. Case closed, Lucky Eye was put in the "will not coddle (even though they no longer exist), sell when needed" stack.

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Yesterday I ran into a post on The Devil Has the Best Tuna about a soundtrack for Two Headed Cow, a documentary about the Flat Duo Jets, and was stoked to find out that there was an accompanying soundtrack with all early stuff, and just as raw as I had remembered them. Here's three songs on one blog and another at a second blog, all four no-brainers. This is the best new (to me) rock n' roll I've heard in a long time, stripped bare and absolutely pure. It's not indie, punk rock, psychobilly, no wave or any other hyphenated crap category. It really does seem like the sound of sweat, alcohol and cigarette smoke.

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Flat Duo Jets - Rock House mp3 + Everybody's Movin' and Rawhide at The Devil Has the Best Tuna

(Alternative link for the same three songs at Oregon Live)

Flat Duo Jets - Rockin' Bones mp3 at The Walrus
Dexter Romweber interview at Perfect Sound Forever

Video clip here

THIS ONE'S FOR YOU SNAIL

Sometimes it just depends on how you hear a song. What some see as a schlocky cover (and might not even make it through the first listening), others might see as an whacked-out extension of one of the simplest rock riffs of all time. And more than likely anybody who makes it past the thought of a sax player covering Led Zeppelin is listening out of curiosity or knows the name King Curtis. In either case, his reworking of "Whole Lotta Love" is one that begs for repeated "what's going on here?" type listenings.

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I could have easily been in the schlock-seeing category of listeners had not been for my younger brother Ted, AKA Snail (a nickname with absolutely no relevance to anything, other than being spouted out once by one of my high school friends. In fact, though I address him as Snail only in affection, I've no idea whether he hates it or not). So far on this blog, I've resisted bringing up the profound experience of growing up with my brothers, two absolute rock n' roll hearts, in the same bedroom. It's a subject that goes so deep that, once tapped, would probably read like a biography. Suffice it to say that it not only shaped my taste in music, it shaped my life; and that's not an understatement. Everything musical moment in my life has stemmed from the stereo wars and record collecting of our teens. I bring this up now only because it was a King Curtis tape from Ted that first made me think of Curtis as something other than a hired gun. I was cognizant of his work, but owned none of his solo work.

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As it is Father's Day, and Ted's birthday was earlier in the week, I will allow myself a slight digression, if only to publicly recognize the influence of both of my brothers, and my unwavering awe at Ted's skills as a Dad. Without an ounce of corn, I gotta say, I love you bro.

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About the song, though it starts out as a relatively faithful cover, with Curtis's sax replacing the vocals, at 1:15 it turns into a fuzzed out, horn-heavy, 70's movie chase scene freak-out, replete with a Latin tinged rhythm section. You are definitely rewarded for listening to the whole song and, by the time it ends, disappointed the overload doesn't last longer.

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King Curts - Whole Lotta Love mp3 at AM, Then FM

More on King Curts' Whole Lotta Love at Funky 16 Corners

BO DIDDLEY 1928 - 2008

THE BEAT IS DEAD. LONG LIVE THE BEAT. Eric Bacher said that, at Che Underground. BLOODY HELL, I'M REALLY SAD. Rev Frost of Spread the Good Word said that. Both kept it short, even in the full text of their comments, and for good reason. You get past the simplifications, and it's hard to stop. Especially for someone like Bo Diddley. Both Bacher and Frost were incredibly economic in their words, but both summed it up.

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If the average person knows anything about Bo Diddley, they know the beat. And they probably know about the rectangular guitar. And maybe about Jerome and the Duchess. But Bo Diddley was much more than the Originator of the beat.

Who else would release, as the A-side of their first 45, a self-titled song? What other early rocker recorded their own music, in their own studio? (C'mon, I mean, how DIY can you get?) And who, before Bo Diddley, had a rock n' roll band that included a woman? And to top all this off, he literally invented his own style of rock n' roll?!! And we haven't even started tabulating the songs yet. (Fuck, do not get me started.)

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ADDED 6/5: 15 more Bo Diddley mp3's at Probe is Turning on the People
Bo Diddley - Bo Diddley mp3 and seven others, with bio, at Spread the Good Word

Bo Diddley - Diddy Wah Diddy mp3 (and Bo's Bounce) at Diddy Wah

ORCHESTRA BAOBAB SLAYS URSULA 1000

Browing music blogs recently, I ran into a remix of the Yardbirds' "For Your Love" by Ursula 1000, a name I was not wholly unfamiliar with, having seen it many times in techo and dance blogs and such. I'm semi-open-minded and always game for something challenging, so I thought I'd give it a listen. The verdict: It flat-out sucked. I needed to get my palate cleansed, but quick.

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When something like this happens, I skulk not in my little rock n' roll safe harbor. I forge ahead to another challenging, yet more reliable, destination. The old fart hitching post: world music..

On the night of my unfortunate introduction to the pile of shit that is Ursula 1000, I found my palate cleanser in Orchestra Baobab, an outfit from Senegal. Very smooth.

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Orchestra Baobab - Nijaay and Werente Serigne mp3s at Some Velvet Blog
The Yardbirds "For Your Love" remix by Ursula 1000 mp3 at Welcome to the Dance Club (You've been warned)

JIMMY MCGRIFF 1936 - 2008

Jimmy McGriff died last weekend. It is not neccesarily cold to note that McGriff's passing presents an excellent opportunity for jazz neophytes to educate themselves about his music, and the whole Hammond B3 organ thing in general, via mp3 blogs. I don't know much about jazz, but I do know McGriff and Jimmy Smith (the other Jimmy), were like Hammond gods. And I've liked just about everything I've heard, from either of them (and I'm always reminded of why the mods thought they were such hot shit). Get into the Hammond groove, baby!
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Jimmy McGiff - A Thing to Come By (Pts 1 & 2) and Fat Cakes mp3s at Funky 16 Corners
Jimmy McGriff - Groove Grease and two others at the Leather Canary
Jimmy McGriff - Dig On It mp3 and two others at Some Velvet Blog

OFF THE LEASH

Every town with a relatively healthy scene, has had, at one time or another, their own Johnny Thunders and the Heartbreakers disciples, right? And not all Thunders; a little heavy on the Heartbreakers. Somewhere between punk rock and the Stones; guitar heavy and a little sloppy. Sometimes it may not have even been intentional. The Rockin' Dogs may not have been into the Heartbreakers, but they sure sounded like them. Even the lead and background vocals sound like the Thunders/Lure of yore.

Listen to the guitar, particularly from the 1:00 mark on. [Mp3 link below] The fills (by Dave Ellison?) sound like Thunders, James Burton and CCR-era John Fogerty mashed together. I saw them a few times and they were (pardon the term) awesome. Both guitarists, Dave Ellison and Sam Wilson, were well versed in rock n' roll licks, from all eras, and they weren't afraid of being a little sloppy. I never thought that I'd hear them again. Thanks to Che Underground, I now know that they were pretty much as I remembered, sloppy and rocking out.

Che Underground is a blog about the San Diego's scene within a scene of the 80's, primarily bands associated with the Che Cafe (a venue at UCSD). Hosted by Matthew Rothenberg (former member of Noise 292 and 3 Guys Called Jesus), posters include Ellison, Tom Ward (Gravedigger V, Nashville Ramblers, etc), Bart Mendoza (Manual Scan, the Shambles), Ray Brandes (Telltale Hearts, Town Criers), Dave Klowden....basically a who's who of SD 80's bands. There's a lot of lost music being digitized and posted by Matthew, so stop by and give him an "atta boy".

Rockin' Dogs - Candy Rock mp3 at Che Underground
Rockin' Dogs - Baby Baby Baby mp3 at Che Underground
Rockin' Dogs - Back of Your Heart mp3 at Che Underground
Rockin' Dogs - Always On the Run mp3 at Che Underground

The Heartbreakers - Born To Loose mp3 at All Time Champion

Rockin' Dogs thread at Che Underground
Che Underground home page

NEW STEREOLAB

Okay, so Stereolab isn't just for eggheads, but I can't think of anyone I know who likes Stereolab who isn't smart. Me? I'm on the fence about them. I guess that means I'm not entirely smart enough. One of my favorite comments about them came from a workmate who asked me to turn down the "Chinese water torture" (and he's pretty smart...go figure!). Anyways, when you want to hear something Stereolab-ish, there's very few bands that will fill that role. (Okay, so I'm generalizing again, but you get the picture.) And for that reason, it seems that those who like Stereolab, really like Stereolab. That's the reason for this post. It's a cut from their next album, which is still a couple months out. So, sink your teeth into this eggheads!

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Stereolab - Three Women mp3 at Fluxblog

LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU!

Dear Teenagers,

These songs are by the Foxboro Hot Tubs. The Foxboro Hot Tubs might sound a little familiar because the five man band includes all three members of Green Day, that band you thought were "punk rock". They sound a little different though, because in this side project, they play music that is not unlike the ditties your grandparents use to listen to. And the bands back then had funny names too, just like your punk rock favorites. Crazy names like the Who, the Kinks, the Monkees and the Byrds; even the Chocolate Watch Band!
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Imagine all the fun the Foxboro Hot Tubs had making music for old farts! And playing mysteriouso too, since there aren't credits on their crazy CD cover (that looks like a record cover!). You know what you should do? (Look at me when I'm talking to you!) You should put off getting that next funny haircut, put the tough guy routine on hold, and ask your grandparents to play you some of the music from the 60's. You might find a thread that leads you right back to these nuts!

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Bonus trivia to dazzle your punk rock friends with!: Green Day didn't always wear make-up!

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Foxboro Hot Tubs - Stop, Drop and Roll mp3 + 2 more at Pop Tarts Suck Toasted

Foxboro Hot Tubs - She's a Saint Not a Celebrity mp3 at Rocknblog.fr

TESTIFY!

Fuck yeah! Pardon my French, it's just my real world way of saying "hallelujah!” Rev. Tom Frost from Spread the Good Word has done it again. The guy from South of Hell has a knack for posting really great stuff that either I've never gotten to, or am woefully ignorant of. Most of it is roots music, be it surf, rockabilly, R & B, country, or rock n' roll, and just about everything he posts is worth a listen.

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I confess. I'm a gospel nincompoop. If you too are lacking in the gospel category, there can't be a better place to start than with the Blind Boys of Alabama. Believe it.

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Blind Boys of Alabama - Swingin on the Golden Gate mp3 and two others at Spread the Good Word

CALL IT BLUE-EYED SOUL AT YOUR PERIL

It is soul or it is not. No qualifiers, Righteous Brothers. This kid has it and, at 23, has a lot of singing ahead of him.

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Eli "Paperboy Reed & the True Loves - The Satisfier mp3 and two more at Bag of Songs

4/23/08: Another mp3 and lengthy bio at The B Side:

Eli "Paperboy" Reed & the True Loves - It's Easier mp3 at The B Side

NEW 4/24/08: NPR plugs the Paperboy!

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MORE NEW SOUL BLOOD:

Ryan Shaw - Do the 45 also at Bag of Songs

CURTIS MAYFIELD & THE HEAVY

I'm as guilty of it as anybody: the practice of describing a band as "(band name) meets (band name)", usually referencing bands with disparate sounds. Descriptions like that are rarely accurate to anyone but the person doing the describing. But, more often than not, I fall for them. So when visiting Some Velvet Blog, I read "damn hot engaging musical intersection where Muddy Waters meets Prince, where big Zep beats meet The Stooges, where Sly and The Family meet the Son of Superfly," I'm slobbering before I've finished reading the sentence. I'm off to the races. So it's no surprise that I missed the last key reference: Superfly. (As in "Superfly," the song by Curtis Mayfield, from the soundtrack to the film of the same name.)

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So, I'm already downloading and wondering why the guy didn't reference Curtis Mayfield. I'm thinking, "Prince? Stooges? Okay, it's bombastic like Led Zep, but that's not Prince I'm hearing"; finally settling on Mayfield's "Freddy's Dead" as the missing ingredient. When I returned to the blog to see if the mp3 was still live, and reread the text, boy, did I feel like a dip. All that aside, "Coleen," followed by "Freddy's Dead" passed the CD Mix Challenge. And the Heavy are throwing a lot in there.

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The Heavy - Coleen mp3 and That Kind of Man video at Some Velvet Blog
Curtis Mayfield - Freddy's Dead mp3 (and others) at the Leather Canary
The Heavy - That Kind of Man mp3 at Anyone's Guess
The Heavy at MySpace
Curtis Mayfield profile at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame

YEAH, YOU'RE WHAT, 25?...FIVE WHAT??

V.U. fiends have been going ape in the past couple of weeks over a previously unreleased live recording of the band. The only available live recording available from 1967, it contains an unreleased song, "I'm Not a Young Man Anymore," not available anywhere else, and the debut live performance of "Sister Ray", (known in these parts as "Nico's Piss Break"). The sound's not bad, particularly for a bootleg of a show that old. If you're a Velvets freak, you're not even reading this; you've already skipped out to download and dissect it. Me, I don't need everything. I'll just listen to "I'm Not a Young Man Anymore" and try not think too hard about about the incredibly insightful lyrics.

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The Velvet Underground - I'm Not a Young Man Anymore mp3 and the whole The Velvet Underground Live at the Gymnasium NYC enchilada at Dead Flowers.

IT'S OKAY, MY BROTHER FOUND ME ANOTHER COPY.

I know, I know. A lot of these posts end up being more about my musical experiences than the nuts-and-bolts artist profile type post. A big reason for that is that when I think of music I know, it invariably takes me back to different significant moments when the music in question was either the soundtrack of, or related to, a particular event or discussion. In this case, the memory machine stopped on the day David Fwelling dropped my copy of Ginger Baker's Stratavarious in 12th grade. I was bummed, really bummed.

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Ginger Baker was the former drummer of Blind Faith and Cream, and was the Gene Krupa of that era. While Keith Moon, John Bonham and other drummers were better known, Baker was a drummer's drummer. That's why I'd loaned the album to Fwelling. He was a drummer, and Baker was one of his idols.

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As luck would have it, when Fwelling was returning the LP, in the last seconds of his possesion, the record slipped out and fell to the ground, breaking out a big hunk. Had this been just an ordinary Ginger Baker solo album, it would have been no big deal. But it wasn't. Ginger Baker recorded Stratavarious with Fela Ransome-Kuti, who was, unbeknownst to me at the time, somewhat of a deity in Nigeria, far and away the most popular afrobeat musician of his time (and an enemy of the government). At the time Stratavarious represented my only link to the exotic ethnic sounds of other lands, period.

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My brothers and I had already gone back as far as Chuck Berry, Eddie Cochran, Muddy Waters, and Howling Wolf in our exploration of American roots, so we were already on our way to geekdom. But Fela's music was the tip of a different iceberg, this one fucking huge. It was our first glimpse into music that wasn't directly related to rock and roll. And the album wasn't easily replaced. I'd bought it a couple years earlier and it had long since disappeared from record stores. (This was before record stores had "International Music" sections.) So I did what any budding music geek would do. I lugged my broken record back home where the three cuts still playable were preserved, sandwiched between sentries Bad Company and the Beach Boys in my third of the collective record collection. (Ten years later my brother found another copy and gave it to me as an present, unconnected to any holiday or event.)

So what about Fela? He spent some time in the US in the late 60's, where he was inspired by the Black Panthers and the Black Power movement. Soon after, he was deported and returned to Nigeria, bringing with him a new direction. He created his own compound that included a commune, a disco and a recording studio, took 27 wives and proclaimed his independence from the Nigerian state, which ultimately landed him on the government's shit list. A flagrant pothead, in 1974 Nigerian police planted a joint in his home to have an excuse to drag his ass in for a time-out. He ate the joint, thereby destroying the evidence. As if a scene from a Pink Panther movie, they brought him in anyway, to wait for the joint to pass. In the interim, he acquired a stool from another inmate, presented the joint-free duty, and was later released. Thumbing his nose at the authorities, he wrote a song about the incident, naming it, poignantly, "Expensive Shit."

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Dig it: Six cuts of Fela at Passion of the Weiss. Considering that his songs typically hover in the ten minute range, that's a load of excellent music. You might also want to check out the article from the NY Times (linked below) by John Barton, a former Times Lagos correspondent and friend of Fela's. Amongst other revelations is that Idi Amin was one of his early idols.

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Fela Kuti - Expensive Shit mp3 and other delights at Passion of the Weiss

How Fela Landed Me In Jail by John Barton at the New York Times

THIS WILL NOT BE MY LAST CHESS RECORDS POST.

There's far too much in the history of Chess Records to even entertain the thought of writing a short blurb worthy. In a nutshell, they just plain kicked ass. They've got to be in the top three rock n' roll related labels of all time. Like Sun and Stax, their roster was stellar and crossed multiple genres. Muddy Waters, Chuck Berry, Howlin' Wolf, Sonny Boy Williamson, and John Lee Hooker, just to name a few. But you knew that (you'd better have).

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One of the most under-appreciated Chess alum is singer, writer and bass player, Willie Dixon. His contribution to rock n' roll, and Chicago blues, cannot be overstated. Beyond backing practically all of his big name labelmates, the songs Dixon wrote transcended Chess and have been played by every single rock band that ever existed (times infinity).

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This one, a duet with Koko Taylor, gives me goosebumps. It starts out slow, with an sparse, eery introduction. The arrangement and instrumentation just drip despair. Then, Dixon's low bellow slowly trods to a pause, just before Taylor's first verse. When she starts to wail (at 1:15 in the song), you will be committed. This is not an ordinary blues song.

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Wille Dixon and Koko Taylor - Insane Asylum mp3 and 20+ other songs about mental instability at Beware of the Blog

The Chess Story & Discography at Both Sides Now

DON'T PUT THAT MOP AWAY JUST YET.

I know what you're thinking: I've heard that song a zillion times. How can someone top all of the other versions, including those made by every goddamn blues musician that ever dusted a stage? Good question, thank you very much for asking. It's a rare occasion when a woman sacrifices her larynx, and that's just what Joyce Harris does with the song that you thought you'd heard enough of. I am certain that, with pipes like hers, no man would stand a chance in a domestic dispute.

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Kudos to Locust St for writing "The track opens with a summoning, a howled note Harris holds until she shreds her voice to pieces." Voice shredding has always been one of my favorite things to listen to, particularly because it can elevate a blues standard to a beer-spilling, living room trashing, turntable pipe bomb.

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Joyce Harris - I Got My Mojo Working mp3 + 2 others at Locust Street

Joyce Harris bio & interview at Color Radio

WE'RE GOING TO TAKE A SHORT BREAK WHILE WE MOP UP GARY'S VOCAL CHORDS.

Frank Gutch gave me my first fix. He was the owner of Scratching the Surface, a record store that opened just as us knucklehead kids were getting our punk rock wings. Frank was slightly older than us and a long time record store employee cum music geek (and I mean that in a most complimentary tone). No ego whatsoever, he was council to those of us that were, in a matter of speaking, outgrowing Creem magazine. He was into all sorts of music and seemed to have a special fondness for overlooked bands (Big Star, the Flamin' Groovies, etc.). And he was a stealth ring leader as well, offering, by way of encouragement, a sort of DIY transfusion. Having just opened his own record store, he was the bearer of the "yeah, you should do it" attitude that was the catalyst that prompted not only the first punk show in San Diego, but the first punk zine as well.

The zine I speak of was Substitute, a thin (16 pages) fanzine I put out with my friend Jaccqui Ramirez. Frank, writing as Izen Timothy Zorr, was given a column to write about whatever he wanted, and in magazine that was very "now", he chose to write about the Northwest sound of the mid-late sixties. The Northwest sound, the garage era in particular, was one he championed all the time, even naming his column "Boss Hoss" after the song by the Sonics.

The Sonics - The Witch mp3 at The Culture of Me

All sorts of people contributed to early punk scenes, and while some contributions are apparent (and recognized), others are not. Amongst all the other ways Frank contributed to the early San Diego scene (and there's many more than listed), it was he who pushed the Wailers and the Sonics, absolute demi-gods of the Northwest sound, on us unsuspecting punk rock wannabees. And that is a long-winded way of saying, whenever I hear the Sonics, I think of Frank.

Which brings us to "Psycho." Listen to the whole thing or, better yet, consider it essential and download it. But do listen to the whole thing, particularly the fade out. See if you don't go running for a mop.

The Sonics - Psycho mp3 and Have Love Will Travel mp3 at Raven Sings the Blues

I KNOW JUST WHAT YOU KIDS NEED.

Though an introduction to the Monks may seem a little elementary to some, it may be a good time to reflect as, alas, Monk Time may be over (in a live sense anyway). Banjo thrasher Dave Day died on January 10, after touring as recently as last fall with the band.

The piece below is old, from 2000. I was asked to write for Woodstock.com about "..music the kids like, you know, like Limp Bizkit" (this was just after the third Woodstock festival in 1999, in which Limp Bizkit were featured). My sensibilities trashed, it left no question about what to turn in as my first paid piece ever: the profile below of the Monks. The writing's pretty bad, but it was written with the expectation of being rejected (which, surprisingly, it wasn't). I haven't changed a word.

Originally posted Woodstock.com on March 20, 2000:

Drawing disbelieving stares walking down the street. Attacked on stage. Simultaneously loved and hated. Playing short stripped down songs with few lyrics and no solos delivered raw, frantic, and venomous. It was punk rock, but it wasn't the Sex Pistols in 1977. Served up in 1965, in Germany by five Americans, it was the Monks.

Starting innocently enough as a few servicemen playing music for kicks, they evolved into punk rock pioneers without even knowing it. While stationed in Germany in 1964, Gary Burger, Larry Clark, Dave Day, Roger Johnston and Eddie Shaw began playing together as the Torquays. When their commitment to the Army was over, they were convinced that there were enough venues in Germany for them to continue playing there. They were one of a hoard of bands playing the same small clubs and beer halls. But playing Stones and Beatles covers (among others) started to wear thin. Something had to change. .

A combination of unrelated variables often breeds something unique. They knew little German, so they cut lyrics to a minimum. Having met not in a club, but in the Army, they all had different musical tastes. A new sound was in order. They substituted a six-string banjo (with makeshift pickups) for one of the guitars. To sound more primitive, they stripped the drummer of his cymbals, now relegated to use only for accents. Feedback was tossed in. They concentrated less on melodies and more on the beat.

The Monks - Monk Time mp3 (from The Rising Storm)

They were realistic enough to realize that life was more than love songs. They wrote a few sets worth of their own, with titles such as "Shut Up" and "I Hate You". After discarding Fried Potatoes and Molten Lead as names, they agreed upon the Monks. A Monk look was in order, so they shaved the top of their heads and wore all black, with ropes around their necks.

So they went about, playing clubs almost exclusively in Germany, with only a few dates outside the country (in Sweden). They were aggressive onstage. They caused unrest in the audience, sometimes inciting verbal and onstage attacks from both Germans and American GIs serving overseas.

They were signed to Polydor and released "Black Monk Time" (and the single "Complication" b/w Oh, How To Do Now") in 1966. Twelve demented originals, and no covers, it was the bulk of their material. Spit, rather than served, it was very unlike the hit records of the time. They continued to tour, now almost nightly, for a year and half. They were the Monks 24 hours a day. They released two more singles and bowed to pressures to conform to the mainstream, in Shaw's words "to join the rest of the human race". In 1967, before a planned tour of Hong Kong, Tokyo and other cities in the Far East, the touring took its toll. Band conflicts and infighting convinced them to throw in the towel. It was a couple of explosive years, one classic album, and then a burn out.

As rare it is, "Black Monk Time" on vinyl is now very sought after by record collectors. It was re-released in 1997, by Henry Rollins and Rick Rubin, on their Infinite Zero label. In late 1999, before a euphoric new fan base, the Monks reformed for two gigs, at Cavestomp, in New York City. (2000)

The Monks - Oh How To Do Now mp3 at The Pharmacy

NOTE: As of 1/2007 Black Monk Time is out of print as a domestic release and is available only as an import. It can be found through a link on The Monks Official Website.

SAX RIOT

Probe is Turning On the People's M.O. is basically the "dig it or don't" type of posting. Title and artist, that's it. Sometimes the year, writing credits or catalog #s are included, but no bios, profiles or backstories, and rarely photos. It's there and it's rare, if you need further reason to download, do a little legwork. (In a way, it gives a little respect to the site visitors.) But, even a little legwork couldn't help me find more information on his latest post, "Riot" by Jeri Jorden. A web search turned up squat (only a mention on WFMU playlists and a small crappy scan of a Jorden LP). So, all I gots me is a hunch, far fetched at best.

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Jorden seems to have a strong accent and a few of the lines sound like they could be in French, and given the vintage of the song (I'm guessing late sixties), it could be that the riots she sings of were the uprisings of May 1968 in Paris. That's a guess, I could be wrong about the language. And she is singing "Stop the Riots", a decidely unhip sentiment given that the record sounds, well, not like an unhip record. Come to think of it, Jorden sounds more like a Dutch name. My theory is full of holes.

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Musically speaking, her singing is rather sedate, but that's not what prompted me to download it (and my guess is that it's not the reason it was posted). It's the incredibly abrasive saxaphones that got me. Seriously, it sounds like their reeds are made out of sandpaper. One sax wails ala Lara Logic (X Ray Spex' "Oh Bondage Up Yours"), while the other one just-fucking-blows. It sounds like someone was handed a baritone saxaphone and told "just do that fog horn thing you always do to annoy us..." On top of that, the guitarist, buried in the mix, is quietly manic.

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Jeri Jorden - Riots mp3 at Probe is Turning-On the People (scroll to session 188)
X Ray Spex - Oh Bondage Up Yours mp3 at Dancing Queen Records

FRIDAY NIGHT BUCKSHOT!

Here's a whole mess of mp3s, of every flavor. You should really be bookmarking these hosting sites because they're the ones in the trenches:

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First off: Emy Jackson and the Smashmen. Really, no cooler name exists. Because of that, all objectivity goes out the window. It doesn't hurt that Jackson is Japanese and sings in English, and the guitarist sounds like he just got his first surf record the day before (not to mention his first whammy bar). Oh, and the way she sings "why" sounds certifiably tortured. All this and a bare production render it a must-right-click-now-Batman classic.

Emy Jackson & the Smashmen - Crying in a Storm MP3 at Garage Hangover

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Next up, Roy Head and the Traits' "Treat Her Right" which some of you aging hipsters may remember from Johnny Thunders' cover of it on "Copy Cats" about 15 or 20 years ago. I played the shit out of Thunders' version because I could never find the original and I knew I remembered hearing it out of the radio on my Dad's workbench when I was growing up. (Al Hirt's "Java" was another long sought workbench record). I finally happened upon it at The A Side, the companion site to The B Side (host of the outasight Willie Mitchell cuts posted on Monday). The introduction to the post pretty much sums it up: "This song just kills me. Two minutes and five seconds of in your face Texas swagger that just doesn't let up. How cool is Roy Head, man?"

Here, here!

Roy Head and the Traits - Treat Her Right mp3 at The A Side

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The big news around Bacon St. is that Reverend Frost, of Spread the Good Word, is posting again. He is, of course, the person who unleashed Al Garcia and the Rhythym Kings "Exotic" on this dry sod, making him feel drunk again, if only for 2:14. Now, after an absense that he seemed apologetic for (despite the fact that he was homeless!) he returns with more of the twisted fare that made him a saint in these parts. The latest: Buck Griffin, a hill-a-rocka-billy that you and I would have never heard about otherwise, despite the fact that he's in the Rockabilly Hall of Fame.

Buck Griffin - Stutterin' Papa mp3, Cochise mp3, Let's Elope Baby mp3 at Spread the Good Word

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Next up, some equal time for the soccer kids of trash, Tiny Masters of Today, a 13 year-old brother and 11 year-old sister duo who have become the darlings of...well, they have a Blues Explosion drummer, a Moldy Peach, two Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs, and a B52 on their debut, so you figure out who-dragged-who. David Bowie called them "genius" but also said that they sounded like a mix of Suicide and the Shags, which isn't at all accurate. What they do sound like is a couple of kids that were mentored by a member of the Blues Explosion (drummer Russel Simmins, who produced them). That said, any kids who write a song called "Stickin' It to the Man" before they've reached junior high, they're the Sound of Young America that I want to hear.

Tiny Masters of Today - Stickin' it to the Man mp3 at The Devil Has the Best Tuna

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Which reminds me...I sure wish Bowie would keep his stink off of other people. He's been doing it for years. Shit, he's the one who dragged the synth-weakened Iggy Pop onto the Dinah Shore show, and that was thirty years ago. (Memo to Thin White Parasite: I have a long memory when it comes to rock crimes.) Then, he trampled the Pope of Out-There, dishonoring the Legendary Stardust Cowboy by covering one of his songs as a ballad. Blasphemy! Quickly, cleanse yourself of the thought!:

The Legendary Stardust Cowboy - Paralyzed mp3 and Who's Knocking at My Door mp3 at WFMU's Beware of the Blog