Straight from the liner notes: A semi-history of the NYC underground rock scene, represented by rare,
out of print singles by mid-70s founding punk/wave bands. **Please do not reveal artist in comments!**
I really, really tried to get into To Damascus' 1987 platter Come to Your Senses ages ago, but it just wasn't meant to happen. Thankfully, their preceding 45 was a different story. This coed L.A. contingent was helmed by one Sylvia Juncosa, and per Wiki, her tenure with the band went something like this:
I was shocked and saddened as anyone last week to learn about the passing of Kim Shattuck, the embodiment of The Muffs, the band she fronted for roughly thirty years, not to mention her stint in The Pandoras. She kept her diagnosis of ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease) a secret to the public at large for the past two years, even releasing a record with a new band, The Coolies just three months ago, and even had a hand in a recent Pandoras reunion ep. In short, most fans, including myself just didn't see this coming. Then again, I hardly kept tabs on her, even as big of a Muffs devotee as I was. I plan on doing a feature on the Muffs proper in a couple of weeks, and will postpone most of my eulogizing until then. The truth is though, I've had a non-stop loop of Shattuck's musical body of work in my head for the past half a week, including her work with White Flag.
Had a request for this one years ago, but only spotted a copy of it recently. Not a bad $3 find in the wild, but hardly a revelation. The Expression were native to Sydney, Australia and sorta resembled another down under band, the considerably more popular Icehouse. This is rather polished synth pop with the most exotic attribute evidencing itself via some occasional fretless bass. We're treated to a few relatively memorable cuts - "With Closed Eyes," "Dawn, Day and Sleep," and "Right to a Slice." Nothing particularly offensive or embarrassing mind you, and to the Expression's credit I'll take this combo over ABC or Go West in a heartbeat. Enjoy (or not).
01. Present Communication
02. With Closed Eyes
03. Total Eclipse
04. Keep Appointments
05. Right to a Slice
06. Dawn, Day and Sleep
07. Decisions
08. You and Me
09. Nothing Changes
10. Satisfied Strangers
Sorry once again for waiting until the weekend to hook you up with something new. This whole past week felt a little abnormal, and it didn't help that it began with the rather jarring and unexpected news that Ric Ocasek, frontman for The Cars, record producer, and solo act in his own right died of heart failure Sunday, September 15th at the age of 75. I don't think I've brought him up before on this site, and save for the band itself only when using The Cars comparatively speaking. That being said 1983's Heartbeat City and it's associated singles were a big component of the entry drug that got me hooked on rock music, thus placing me on the most significant trajectory of my life. At one point or another I owned all of the band's albums, and had recently invested in a series of expanded reissues. Still, they were never a top-tier favorite of mine despite the fact I rarely objected to much of anything they did. I saw them on their 2011 reunion tour that summer in Toronto, and was mightily impressed. I knew it was probably a once in a lifetime opportunity. In recent years I wasn't waiting around for another reunion album. Or tour. Or anything. Besides getting the occasional Cars or (less occasionally) Ocasek solo track stuck in my head, I never kept tabs on him or any of the other surviving members (co-frontman and bassist Benjamin Orr passed away from natural causes in 2000). Still, the news on Sunday made a dent with me. In addition to the Cars catalog, I got to know him through interviews and his production work with unrelated artists like Weezer, Motion City Soundtrack, and Guided by Voices. A life fantastically well lived, even if he had been a bit dormant for the last few years of it. I'd say a well earned retirement.
On the opposite side of the coin we have brand new Black Watch in the form of a three-song 7" on Hypnotic Bridge. "Crying All the Time! (Psyche mix) - which by the way doesn't necessarily scream "psychedelic" nonetheless it has it's own share of headiness going for it, not unlike recent Swervedriver and Less of Memory. We're treated to two new b-sides as well, both indicative of how far this band has come since those astonishing-in-of-themselves early albums. The single is available direct from Hypnotic Bridge, and copies appear to be limited.
For a change I decided not to make you wait until Friday for some new tunes. It didn't hurt that I had this one digitized and ready to go. My initial draw to these Buffalo suburbanites was the involvement of one Mark Freeland (R.I.P.), a unique and talented savant-garde multimedia artist who made several records under his own name in the '80s-'90s. It wasn't until I looked at Crumbs of Insanity's roster on the cassette inlay that I learned Freeland merely played percussion in this particular combo. Nonetheless, not a regrettable purchase, albeit not the essence of what the man was responsible for.
The album jacket depicted to your left may strike you as either innocuous, or perhaps even slightly off-putting. Nothing about it screams "indie" or "post-punk, or in fact anything particularly visionary. In some respects these assumptions are right on the money as Stealer were not indie kids, punk, or on the cutting edge of much of anything. In fact, the foursome in question were marketed as hard rock and AOR. Probably not the most enticing of musical propositions, and hardly the stuff of this blog's aesthetics, as it were. "Hard rock," especially the pedestrian variety thereof, reeks of stock riffs, unimaginative FM playlists, antiseptic arenas, and all-too familiar themes of love, partying, and blue collar concerns. Yet once in awhile I'll stumble across a forgotten hopeful of this ilk that stands out from the pack just enough to perk my ears up, and in this case even get me a little stoked.
Yet another cold case, a Canadian one to be exact. Despite the noir album jacket, Rarefaction were relatively conventional practitioners of snyth-n-guitars modern rock. More new wave than indie, but despite a lack of mystique still pretty appealing. At their most stimulating this five-piece resemble what the Comsat Angels were attempting around the same time (think, 7 Day Weekend-era). "Open Up Your Heart," "All the Broken Seams," and the title cut are all fairly exemplary, and even when they stumble occasionally on Modern Man, I can't think of anything egregious enough going on here to dissuade you from giving this a whirl or two.