Speak the new language!

I think I outdid myself in terms of "avant" specimens for this week's Mystery Monday. Surely this 1994 disk is one of the most artistically daring and downright bizarre albums to bear a major label logo. And would you believe the drummer later became an SNL alum and this years Record Store Day ambassador? 

**Please do not reveal artist in comments!**

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Well! Well! Well! - What Life's About 7'' (1986, Big Store)

I said it ten years ago when I shared their first album (...And Rise) and I'll say it again - it's impossible to believe Well! Well! Well! weren't born and bred in the States, based on that record, and this single which I came into possession of even more belatedly. These four gents made music that smacks of what your typical Homestead Records band would amount to if Mitch Easter took them under his wing - though I can't seem to think of any direct comparisons to their contemporaries on either side of the pond.  The clangly, chiming guitar-work is to die for, and the bittersweet edge WWW seemed insistent on incorporating into both songs here (doubly so for "Killing Memories") is icing on an already delectable cake. I definitely need to get my hands on more of their stuff, which is cheap enough from the usual vendors, so long as you're willing to shell out $20 for shipping, but anyway.  Enjoy.

A. What Life's About
B. Killing Memories

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Pounding Serfs - s/t (1989, K)

This strummy, Calvin Johnson-produced quartet gave deference to both electric and acoustic guitars, with the latter winning out in terms of frequency employed on their debut (and finale) LP for the storied K Records imprint.  Seizing on a mid-fidelity sweet spot, the Pounding Serfs were about as "folk" as say, The Walkabouts and Feelies, yet not rambunctiously high strung either (one fine exception surfacing in the slice-of-life tale of mistaken identity "Let Go," wherein the combo kick up some angsty aggression).  Sticking to a plaintive and often topical songwriting formula, the Serfs don't necessarily hit you over the head with too much of anything, save for relentlessly earnest charm, well placed harmonies, and a penchant for warm, raw analogue hues. This is a fine way to spend a half hour.  John Lunsford eventually graduated to The Crabs, and Dale Robinson spilled over to Gravel. 

01. Calling Colleen
02. Let Go
03. Slightly Salted
04. All Day Long
05. Spend Some Time
06. No Big Story
07. She Drove By
08. Big Foot
09. Gravel Road Girl
10. To Go Nowhere

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I tried to wish you away, I'll do more than wishing someday...

My apologies for not posting much of anything last week.  Fatigue really got the best of me. At any rate there's four eps in this weeks bundle. Hopefully one (or more) is just right for you. 

**Please do not reveal artists in comments!**

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Maybe you would like to see the tug of war that goes on inside of me.

Hard to believe it's already the thirtieth anniversary of this one. Absolutely no sophomore slouch here.

**Please do not reveal artist in comments!**

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Notes on new music: Amusment Parks on Fire - An Archaea (2021, EGB Global) & Deadlights - s/t (2021)

Picture this. Christmas party 2006.  A friend who knows I'm a pretty substantial musichead approaches me about what's been rocking my boat lately. A few names surely came to mind, but the only one I distinctly recall telling him was Amusement Parks on Fire, who's Out of the Angeles from earlier that year still had it's tenterhooks in me. He let off a bit of a scoff, bemused by the band's moniker.  Truth be told APOF's name of choice is both a blend of savage iconoclasm and the stuff of over-the-top, grade school fantasy. The defilement and destruction of the ultimate symbol of juvenile hedonism, if you will.  By and large the music produced by this Nottingham combo isn't quite that incendiary or apocalyptic, but since their 2004 inception, APOF have delivered a consistently visceral experience, entailing a voluptuous dose of heady, effects-laden dream pop with the bruising intensity of muscular alt-rock purveyors on our side of the pond, ranging from Hum to the Deftones. By the way, they took some profoundly serious cues from their own contemporaries and countrymen My Vitriol, if that name is of any significance to you. Between 2004-2010 the Parks were on a concussive tear, unfurling a trio of vital albums and twice as many singles and EPs. As the teens rolled around, the Fire had been extinguished, albeit temporarily, until the band reconvened for 2017's "Our Goal to Realise" single and their 2018 follow-up, "All the New Ends," picking up exactly where they left off on 2010's wonderful Road Eyes.  In the intervening years frontman and fulcrum, Michael Feerick kept busy with the similar sounding Young Light, who gave us a primo EP in 2013, and had involvement with a couple of other projects I have yet to acquaint myself with (Red Shoe Diaries and We Show Up on Radar).  Finally, there was Moral Mazes, his collaboration with J. Robbins (Jawbox, Burning Airlines) among other musicians that yielded one of 2020's best singles.   

APOF's much belated fourth full-length, An Archaea just saw the light of day June 25th, and the band's self described "88-month moratorium" is officially in the rear-view. The album's opening salvo, "Old Salt" find Feerick and Co. tenacious as ever, melding consoling vocals to a dynamic backdrop of heaving, distortion soaked chords, inhaling and exhaling at the precisely apropos moments.  "No Fissions'" startlingly dramatic beginning soon settles into the mid-tempo forte they've made their current calling card. "Breakers" is a serrated, dream-gaze stunner that builds to an absolutely divine hook, and "Boom Vang" finally scratches that Loveless itch the band has been stretching for all these years.  An Archaea offers some uncharacteristically "ambient" (for lack of a better word) reprieves in the guise of "Gamma" and the moodier "Diving Bell," while the poppy, piano-steeped title track emanates an innovation altogether unique in the Parks oeuvre.  

Even when this album doesn't consistently ascend to the heights of past triumphs like their 2004 debut single "Venosa." or their aforementioned sophomore masterstroke, Out of the Angeles, An Archaea is utterly representative of APOF's strengths which are still as indigenous and gratifying as ever. You can experience the entire thing on your format of choice (even hot pink vinyl, arriving later this fall) via Bandcamp and the band's store.

When is a Well Wishers album not a Well Wishers album?  To get the definitive skinny on this you'd have to go straight to the source, in this case none other than Jeff Shelton. To save you the effort I'll try to sum it up in a nutshell.  The Well Wishers, is Shelton's musical meat and potatoes proposition of which he's staked his power poppin' reputation on over the course of roughly ten albums and shorter form releases since 2010.  Somewhere in the vicinity of 2012, he had conceived a stash of songs that were slightly more aggressive leaning than the fare he normally relegated to Wishers records (not to mention his like-minded predecessor act the Spinning Jennies). With that, Hot Nun was born, as a new vehicle if you will for his brattier "alter ego."

Additionally, Shelton has always had an affection for Anglophile post-punk (think The Chameleons), not to mention shoegaze.  Over the course of the pandemic, his muse led him to hone an entire album that would extrapolate these tangents that have seemingly been accumulating inside him for decades. With that, a whole 'nother umbrella was opened to corral a new set of raindrops, and Deadlights was established.  There aren't 180 degrees of separation between Deadlights and the Well Wishers, or for that matter 90 or even 45 degrees, but the ten songs populating this album rightfully deserved a neighborhood of their own.  I wouldn't go into this one expecting the kind of woozy, tremolo soaked vistas My Bloody Valentine and Slowdive graced us with three decades past, however the driving and loudly ringing guitar-chitecture informing the distortion addled "Breaking Down," "Come Down Slowly," and "Lazy Eye," exude robust textures and a dense firmament we're not accustom to experiencing from indie-pop's favorite well-wisher, so to speak.  Elsewhere, Deadlights' roar is curtailed into dreamier and lucid sonic swells when the chiming "The Knowing" and "Carefree" infiltrate your earbuds or audio portal of choice.  Shelton's newest endeavor is still ultimately rooted in pop, albeit with a decidedly contemplative subtext...and more effects pedals.  Deadlights is available to have, hold and purchase at Bandcamp and Amazon.

Kill me if I'm sleeping 'round.

This week it's a little spoken of 1998 indie rock platter from a trio that resided in an equally under-the-radar locale, Norway.

**Please do not reveal artist in comments!**

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Bamboo Steamers - (I) Walk Alone 7" (1985, Pajamarama)

Yet Another single Discogs managed to miss (one of these days I'm going to have to become a contributor on there).  The Bamboo Steamers were four New England lads with a correspondence address in Springfield, MA, who on the a-side of what's ostensibly their lone 45 tear it up on the splendid garage-pop rager "(I) Walk Alone," with urges and inclinations not far removed from the likes of the Flamin' Groovies and even the mighty Lime Spiders.  The flip "Mary Carney," subtitled "Oct '69" accurately suggests that it's mining a period-piece vein, in this case, acousti-folk with some mild flamenco seasoning. I was so impressed with the eloquence and wit of their accompanying bio, I went to the effort of scanning it in for you.

Per their FB page (linked above) the Steamers may still be rolling at full boil, with what might have been their first album dropping last year.

A. (I) Walk Alone
B. Mary Carney (Oct, '69)

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I Love Ethyl - s/t (1987, Mad Rover)

Did they?  Did they really love Ethyl that damn much that they not only took that notion and parlayed it into their namesake, but also turned it into one of their song titles?  Or maybe these fellas were simply inspired by a random tattoo or something. Who knows, but all signs point to this trio hailing from Sacramento, CA - and not giving a damn about fitting in with the likes of INXS or other such contemporary chart-toppers.  I Love Ethyl played with a relatively casual gait and were organic in that left-of-the-dial way I so appreciate.  Frontman Jebby K. peels off sweetly echoing guitar lines that don't dominate or saturate so much as they gently imbue on "I Know" and "Beautiful Fascist," suggesting what a mashup of the Comsat Angels and the Red Rockers would have yielded in some alternate universe. A cover of "I Am the Walrus" goes down more pleasantly than you might expect, so much so that I think I prefer it to the original.  The simple, DIY album jacket schematic belies surprising depth that never gets to heady.  BTW, the whole LP was cut live - side one in front of an audience, with the flip side captured in the studio.

01. Real World
02. Primary Concern
03. I Know
04. I Am the Walrus
05. Sound Society
06. I Love Ethyl
07. Beautiful Fascist
08. Haven't Got a Clue

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A brief review: Mumps - Rock & Roll This, Rock & Roll That... (2021, Omnivore), Holsapple & Stamey - Our Back Pages (2021, Omnivore) and The Rubinoos - The CBS Tapes (2021, Yep Roc)

Even if the late Lance Loud had never pitched his hat into the nebulous arena of rock/pop music in the 1970s, his legacy would have still been very much cemented by virtue of his stature in the pioneering 1973 TV serial An American Family.  Though the term "reality television" hadn't been conjured up yet, the short-run, twelve episode program filmed in 1971 and airing two years later honed in on the comings and goings of The Louds, a successful middle class family in Santa Barbara, CA. Unscripted (and if it's to believed, with no financial compensation accorded to the Loud clan) America was introduced to seven perfect  strangers who were a perfectly intact nuclear family when it's first installment aired, and were somewhat fractured by the time the series finale rolled around with the heads of the household Pat and Bill Loud separating, and ultimately divorcing not long after the film crew had packed it's last tripod.  The prime-time show garnered as many as ten million sets of eyeballs, and although the majority of the "cast" went back to living their quiet, private lives one of Pat and Bill's kids, Lance inadvertently parlayed his profile on An American Family into cult iconography, due in no small part to him fronting the New York City art/glam rock quintet, Mumps circa the Carter-era.  Rock & Roll This, Rock & Roll That - Best Case Scenario, You've Got Mumps, is the most recent compilation of the band's relatively sparse body of work, and makes a compelling case for Loud & Co.

Despite American Family's popularity during it's initial (and for better or worse, only) airing in '73, the show is rarely talked about these days (with the latest blip on the radar occurring earlier this year with the death of the aforementioned matriarch, Pat). It hasn't been in syndication since, nor has it been offered up on DVD or streaming services, and at best, even YouTube has archived merely a few tightly bite-sized minutes of the program. I haven't viewed so much as one entire episode myself, however American Family's most noted moment came when Lance came-out to his father Bill in one of the later installments.  Keep in mind, this all transpired in the early seventies.  In what little video I've taken in of AAF, Lance did boast something of a flamboyant persona, vaguely suggesting an interest in the arts and theater, eventually leading him to the Big Apple where at one point he ingratiated himself in Andy Warhol's inner circle.  Mumps were actually born out of a larger contingent of players, simply dubbed Loud, containing as the moniker might suggest some of his siblings, specifically sisters Delilah and Michele on backing vocals. By 1975 the group was pared down to a more succinct five-piece, with keyboardist Kristian Hoffman serving as the combo's predominant songwriter.  Mumps were legendary fixtures at CBGB's with Lance playing the role of a very extroverted and animated frontman, often working himself into such a sweaty frenzy that the first front rows of onlookers couldn't help getting saturated in some of his...uh...stuff.  

Despite their venue of choice the Mumps were not akin to the Ramones, or even the Stooges or Heartbreakers. In fact, their proto-punk bona fides didn't emanate as much as aggression as the New York Dolls or T. Rex, two of the band's closest sonic counterparts. They wielded a mild theatrical and sardonic bent for certain, but beyond their magnetic stage presence they were fortunate enough to fall back on memorable songs...of which there was something of a deficit of.  Save for two independent singles released in 1977 and '78 the band had little else to boost their profile, save for gigs in New York and the occasional tour.  And it wasn't for lack of ambition or effort. Mumps had the competency and potential to be if not outright stars, they easily possessed the chops to hold down a deal with say an imprint like Sire Records.  The cold hard truth is that at the time major labels weren't willing to gamble on openly gay artists, regardless of their capabilities (e.g. Freddie Mercury was still very much in the closet during the '70s and most of the '80s for a legit reason).  

If the band's sound wasn't necessarily advanced or cutting edge, the arrangements themselves were sophisticated, wherein warm reverb had plenty of space to waft around in.  The Curators of Rock & Roll This... were wise to designate some of the Mumps most nascent material (predominantly recordings from 1975/76) as "bonus " tracks, as they weren't up to the caliber of the singles and demo recordings, they committed to tape in the late '70s. And while everything on this compilation is certainly listenable, it's easy to discern what's dated and what isn't.  As for the Mumps creme de la creme, there are dazzling single sides in the form of the taught, power pop-tinted "Crocodile Tears," and "That Fatal Charm," the latter exuding a hint of New York Dolls-y savoir faire. "Muscleboys" a Lance Loud-penned piece, busts out an even glammier stride, with the topic of it's title leaving little to the imagination.  A bevy of outtakes from Mumps creative peak, including "Did You Get the Girl," "Just Look Don't Touch" and the pure-pop delight "Anyone But You," should have all found their appropriate slots on the group's first proper studio album, that alas never transpired. There's sheer gold to be had here, but given Mumps fleeting time in the studio those nuggets were preciously limited.  

In fairness Rock & Roll This... is the third attempt to compile Mumps recorded output, and for better or worse we aren't provided any visual evidence, as the DVD that was bundled with 2005's How I Saved the World collection didn't make the migration here.  Still, we get virtually every single one of the band's recorded highlights, and this set features a couple of exclusive songs from the rambunctious pre-Mumps outfit Loud, who I mentioned in one of my earlier paragraphs. Rock & Roll This... can be purchased directly from Omnivore or Amazon. 

In 2005 fans of the dB's were treated to a full brown reunion of the NYC-by-way-of North Carolina quartet for the first time in some twenty-plus years with all original members present and accounted for: Chris Stamey, Peter Holsapple, Will Rigby and Gene Holder, if only for handful of shows. 2012 saw the reconstituted college-rock pioneers releasing their fifth album, Falling Off the Sky, their first collective recording venture since 1981's Repercussion.  While the lineup for Falling... mirrored Repercussion (and the dB's debut, Stands for Decibels, also an '81 effort) thirty years had nevertheless passed.  Well received as that reunion disk was, it didn't quite exude the band's indigenous, jangly hot mess of yore.  With such a substantial layover it wasn't a surprise so much as a mild letdown.  

It should be noted that there was a dB's respite or sorts in all those intervening years. Under their own names, Stamey and Holsapple collaborated for 1991's Mavericks.  Well, what do you know but another three decades flew by and the duo in question worked up a nostalgic Jones in the most delightful way possible, with the self-explanatory dubbed Our Back Pages.  No this isn't some slapped together retrospective of old dB's standards, rather a fresh acoustic reinterpretation thereof...and then some.

The dB's halycon era arguably stems from 1978 single "(I Thought) You Wanted to Know," up until the aforementioned Repercussion LP.  Two more albums followed with a Stamey-less incarnation of the band, specifically 1984's excellent Like This, and The Sound of Music following three years later. Needless to say Our Back Pages emphasizes the era when the dB's were still composed of the Stamey/Holsapple nucleus. Early masterstrokes "Black and White," "Happenstance," "Nothing is Wrong" and "Dynamite" all make the setlist here, in lucid, stripped-down readings that only an acoustic motif could reveal. There's more from the Stands For.../Repercussion tenure as well, but I don't want to extol any more spoilers. Our protagonists revive a couple of the choicest cuts The Sound of Music Had to offer, namely "Molly Says" and "Today Could Be the Day," plus "Depth of Field," a tune from Stamey's early solo venture, It's a Wonderful Life. "Picture Sleeve" is a much more recent piece, plucked from the dB's 2011 Record Store Day single, and another post-Stamey cut shows up as well, "Darby Hall" circa Like This', which functions splendidly in a more economic context.  All versions herein are exclusive to Our Back Pages, and is not to be passed over by aficionados of any era of the dB's. The vinyl variant of this album was yet another RSD exclusive, and CDs and downloads are ripe for purchasing over at Omnivore and Amazon.

Four guys walk into...a recording studio.  And not just any studio, rather one owned by CBS.  Those "guys," The Rubinoos, were on the cusp of etching their baby steps in the then newly excised granite slab most of us refer to as "power pop."  Here's the scene: November 3rd, 1976 - the day before the foursome in question were about to get down to the brass tacks of recording their 1977 self-titled debut.  Before their work began in earnest they decided to use that particular date in November (just a day after Jimmy Carter's election win, per Tommy Dunbar's liner notes) to get a feel for the studio - and ostensibly get some rambunctiousness out of their systems. Eleven songs were cut to tape in a seemingly random, freewheeling session, all of which hadn't seen the light of day until this year as The CBS Tapes.  As Dunbar puts it:

Imagine that someone followed you around with a camera for an hour in high school and showed you the film 40 years later.  That's what it's like listening to this tape we made in 1976.

And pre-tell what did that particular reel capture?  Well, just a bunch of coming-of-age miscreants busting out a deluge of (mostly) covers - "Heartbeat It's a Lovebeat," "I Want to Hold Your Hand," "She Loves You," "Sugar Sugar," and "Walk Don't Run." among others.  To their credit they up the credibility ante with an unorthodox reading of Jonathan Richman's "Government Center." We're also treated to a couple of originals that ironically didn't make The Rubinoos album - the catchy "All Excited," plus the ragged and lovingly loose "I Want Her So Bad."  The studio banter is chockablock with vulgarities (as occasionally are the lyrics).  They demonstrate competence in the studio, albeit having no shortage of cheeky fun in the process, but in the grand scheme of things, The CBS Tapes is predominantly just that - good frivolous fun.  Die hard Rubinoos acolytes will appreciate this audio snapshot in time, yet it's in no way, shape or form a pivotal artifact, not to mention it's an inadequate jumping off point for the unacquainted.  Don't shy away if you're an established fan, but if you're a Rubinoos neophyte, stick to their first two albums, 1983's Party of Two ep, and if you can locate it, the excellent Basement Tapes outtakes collection.  The CBS Tapes is available from Yep Roc Records as we speak.

"I'm on my own, home all alone." So I got off the phone.

From 1982. Far from the weakest link in their chain of good-to-excellent albums, it is however a bit of a guilty pleasure.  To this day I cringe at the song that employs mechanized vocals, but the other ten are easily keepers. Enjoy

**Please do not reveal artist in comments!**

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Angst - Cry for Happy (1988, SST)

So I've belatedly come to post the only Angst album I haven't shared previously.  Fittingly it's the last album in their catalog, and I think it was the only one to be made available on CD.  Like most, if not all of their SST brethren, Angst weren't necessarily going for accessibility, yet Cry For Happy did boast a host of tunes that could have at the very least crossed over to the upper echelons of college radio playlists - "Time to Understand," "The Weather's Fine," and "She's Mine."  All three of the aforementioned operated within the parameters of say, the Feelies or perhaps the Dream Syndicate had that outfit opted for a more casual modus operandi.  There's a few anomalies wafting around this half hour of power, but nothing radical - maybe a little ZZ Top riff-worship on "Lonesome Heart" and "Meine Frau's" relentless blasts of trumpets that don't do much to augment Angst's otherwise humble shtick.  Overall, another nice record by this decades-long bygone troupe. 

01. Time to Understand
02. The Weather's Fine
03. Only Fools
04. Meine Frau
05. Motherless Child
06. I Could Never Change Your Mind
07. Leaving's Been Easy
08. She's Mine
09. Long Road
10. Lonesome Heart
11. My Dinner With Debbie
12. untitled

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And what she couldn't take she found a way to break...

From 1984. The frontman for this band calls this album his probable favorite by them, and I'm inclined to agree.

**Please do not reveal artist in comments!**

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The redo: Schatzi - Joni Loves Schatzi (1998, Humungous Fungus)

It hasn't exactly been smooth sailing in Wilfully Obscure world this week.  My "rig" for conveying vinyl to a format obtainable in ones and zeroes simply wasn't cooperating with me, forcing me to ditch a couple of titles I would have otherwise fondly shared.

Luckily I had a backup ready to go.  Way back in 2010 I lamented not being able to locate an original copy of a very obscure locally released title by a band that grew very near and dear to my heart in the early '00s, Schatzi.  It took the better part of TWO DECADES for me to finally obtain a physical incarnation of Joni Loves Schatzi, the 1998 debut from the band in question. Yes it's merely a jewel case with an aluminum coated circle of plastic tucked within, but it felt like a remarkable effort after so many years of hunting and making hundreds of web queries.  And here it as at a superior bitrate with scans of the entire booklet.  The original 2010 write up is below.  I'd be neglectful if I failed to mention Schatzi guitarist Monte Williams fell victim to a flood in the summer of 2020.  R.I.P.

An Austin, TX outfit called Schatzi made the "Dubya" years at least a little more tolerable with two choice releases on Mammoth Records - the Death of the Alphabet ep in 2001, and the ensuing long player, Fifty Reasons to Explode a year later. Marrying seismic hooks to booming power chords, a la '90s Weezer and Smeared-era Sloan, but with even smarter songs than both, Schatzi possessed a winning formula, but received inadequate exposure (BTW, Fifty Reasons made it into my top-95 albums list of the decade). The band went their separate ways not long after some 2003 recording sessions and a national tour with the Ultimate Fakebook, but even after their demise, I was starving for more.

Via their defunct webpage, I learned of a pre-Mammoth Records release, Joanie Loves Schatzi, that the quartet issued on their own Humongous Fungus label. To this day I have never come across a copy of this unspeakably impossible to locate disk, but about two years ago I was fortunate enough to bag high quality MP3s of the entire album, which I'm sharing with you today. Joanie... doesn't scale the heights of their later releases, but a respectable and worthy debut nonetheless. 

 

01. Nadine

02. Green Velvet Neckbrace

03. Dirty Room Lament

04. Selfish Please

05. Snowflake

06. Stalking The Girl (With Wintergreen Stockings)

07. Acetaminophen

08. All

09. Surrogate Savior

10. Laika

11. Smashplate

12. Radiate

13. Mr. Kent, You're Out Of Gas

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...and the plans I've made don't include you, I'm afraid

A singles & b-sides compilation of this band's intermittently rewarding "middle" era.  Doesn't quite beat the early stuff, but conveniently, there are a couple of live songs here that show some reverence to their past. 

**Please do not reveal artist in comments!**

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Salvation Army (Three O'clock) - Live From Torrance and Beyond (2019, Burger rec. 5-22-82)

Yesterday was Record Store Day (technically the first of two 2021 "drops" thereof).  In the past I've occasionally shared purchases from prior RSDs, and I'm following suit this year with a title I camped out in line for at 4 a.m. on an unspecific Saturday in April of 2019.  Fans of L.A.'s The Three O'clock, long defunct but insurgent innovators of the so-called "Paisley Underground" movement in the mid-80s, might be aware of the precursor to that band, the Salvation Army.  A name change was forced upon the trio for very obvious reasons after their LP surfaced in 1982, and soon thereafter the Three O'clock was born with the threesome eventually expanding to a quartet, not only epitomizing said mini-movement, but to a certain extent the burgeoning new-romantic scene itself. 

The Michael Quercio-helmed Salvation Army were well received in their native southern California and were just starting to make ripples nationally by the time their self-titled debut arrived.  To give you an indication of how far the group's popularity had progressed, this live performance cut in May of 1982 found the band sharing a bill with two other very significant up and coming contemporaries, Red Cross (later Redd Kross) and The Minutemen (see a replica of the gig flyer to your right). If the Three O'clock veered to psych-inflected new wave, S.A. bore more of a punky sheen, reflected in this brief but delightfully raw set.  The performance commences with with two of their album's most convincing songs, the hooky "She Turns to Flower" and the driving two-minute salvo, "Upside Down."  In the banter that ensues just prior to launching into a cover of Pink Floyd's "Lucifer Sam," Quercio encourages the audience to engage in wanton free love, a la Woodstock (after all this '82 gig was an outdoor show).  In between another wise choice of a remake (The Byrd's "Feel a Whole Lot Better") the band previews two soon-to-be Three O'clock fan favorites "Marjorie Tells Me" and "(With a) Cantaloupe Girlfriend." There's a mere eight songs all in all here, totaling roughly 22 unbridled minutes making for an enjoyable snapshot in time.  The album was said to released in a limited edition of 650 copies, a few of which can be obtained on Amazon...and if it's to be believed, Target online.  

01. She Turns to Flowers
02. Upside Down
03. Lucifer Sam
04. Marjorie Tells Me
05. (With a) Cantaloupe Girlfriend
06. Feel a Whole Lot Better
07. I Am Your Guru
08. Going Home

MP3  or  FLAC

Solid State - "Let it All Out" 7" (1987)

Yet another record I don't own a physical variation of, so thanks in advance to whomever went to the task of ripping this.  This southwestern Connecticut five-piece set may not have realized it at the time it was cut, but this 45's a-side, "Let It All Out" is a Casio organ-laced doozie of a top-down summer song, boasting a relentless and irresistible groove, hearkening back to the last era when Top-40 radio was still a listenable proposition.  Wouldn't necessarily refer to Solid State as power pop, and certainly not new wave (despite "Be Bops" pronounced snyth treatments) but certainly more organic and sincere than say, Glass Tiger or the like.  Even if fun bests innovation by a long-shot here. it's hard to have any objections.

A. Let It All Out
B. Be Bop

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At warped speed on the beltway loop...

This is probably my favorite album of the last three years. A bit left-field for what I offer, even by MM standards. Enjoy (or not).

**Please do not reveal artist in comments!**

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Fade to Black - Corridors of Gender ep (1984, CD Presents)

Yep, you can discern by the cover alone what this one is all about.  Goth. Darkwave. Deathrock. Embrace it or dismiss it. In the case of the Bay Area's Fade to Black. I'm absolutely inclined to the do the latter for the opening salvo, "Black Box," an exercise in contrived, pious-as-hell vocals with appropriately accompanying timpani percussion. All tension, no release here.  Thankfully this quartet (who by the way feature a pre-Game Theory Gil Ray on skins) recover swiftly on the next three cuts, effectively finagling with Anglophile affectations pioneered by the likes of Bauhaus, Siouxsie and Bauhaus.  Heck, I'm even picking up on trace elements of everything from the Chameleons to Christian Death on Corridors of Gender. Unfortunately, the finale is another maudlin waste.  Per Discogs, attempts were made around a decade ago to anthologize the sounds of FtG digitally, but you'd be hard pressed to locate them at a reasonable price if at all.

01. Black Box
02. Forward From Hell
03. Towers Open Fire
04. Soundtrack
05. Cinema Blue

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Liquorice - Stalls 7" (1995, Simple Machines)

Back in the mid-90s, a lot of us who indie folk who got off on Tsunami's guitars-y, but constructive angst (and even front-woman/wunderkind Jenny Toomey's pristine lounge-pop spinoff supergroup Grenadine, entailing Unrest's Mark Robinson and Eggs' Rob Christiansen) were a bit taken back by her third simultaneous foray, Liquorice.  Perhaps she was multitasking a tad much in 1995 and our brains were fried on Toomey-overload.  More likely though, Liquorice were too subtle and refined to spark the visceral charge we were so accustom to hearing from her.  Alongside her telltale vocal and guitar tones, the trio was composed of fellow strummer Daniel Littleton, who was Toomey's co-conspirator in the pre-Tsunami combo Three Shades of Dirty, and shortly thereafter, Slack, both of whom left behind little known cassette releases as evidence. Littleton would eventually be renown for his role in Ida, while drummer Trey Many rounded out the trio that cut this single. 

In music industry-speak Liquorice didn't have much "furniture" populating their humble and relatively serene parlor, relying predominantly on acoustic motifs and delicate interplay, albeit there's an oblique and slyly dynamic tenor to this single's centerpiece "Stalls."  It's five and a half minutes of Toomey's indigenous stripe of tension and texture that's downright rewarding if absorbed in multiple doses. There are two b-sides, the downcast but affecting "Artifacts" featuring Littleton on the mic, and the hazy, ambient-esque "Squawk of the Town."  Liquorice followed this 7" up with the considerably more widely  circulated LP, Listening Cap on 4AD Records.  

A. Stalls
B1. Artifacts
B2. Squawk of the Town

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Stepped on you in boots that were filthy...

Ingeniously tweaked indie/tronica circa 2010.

**Please do not reveal artist in comments!**

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The Barking Boys - The Yes Girls (1987, World)

So I was a little on the fence about posting this one, because frankly I'm not even sure if I'm down with it.  The Barking Boys were actually a coed combo, presumably from Toronto.  I'd love to give you some personnel info but there's none to be had on the jacket. Perhaps there was an insert that was supposed to go with this and it somehow got displaced before I acquired it.  Who knows, but nonetheless there are boy/girl vocals all over this one, and sadly the male on the mic has an obnoxious parlance to his shtick.  Far more unfortunate, he dominates over his female counterpart on the vast majority of Yes Girls. TBB are gently nudging towards new wave a la latter day Talking Heads, minus much in the way of substantive lyrics, but sonically they have potential here with an equal mesh of gits and synths.  The only entirely female-fronted piece, "Cool it Down" is catchy with a DIY bent, not unlike the kind of stuff you'd encounter on an episode of MTV's Basement Tapes way back when this record was making the rounds in the mid-80s. After this promising number Yes Girls ebbs and flows on a downhill gradient with the "dude's" pipes just not slotting in well with the rest of the proceedings.  Even though this doesn't do the trick for me, you might very well be a different case, so I hope I haven't scared anyone off.  BTW, my copy of the record formally belonged to a radio station, and with it's stickers and markings on the sleeve and such I opted to go with the stock image Discogs provided.

01. Cool it Down
02. Here She Comers
03. Ghost Story
04. Open City
05. Too Hot in Here
06. High Life/Low Life
07. Blood Money
08. Incident in St. James Town

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Vans with fifteen passengers are rolling over...

From 2004.

**Please do not reveal artist in comments!**

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V/A - Pop Matters (1995, Wagon Wheel)

I can't believe it hasn't occurred to me share this one after all this time (maybe another blogger had this comp covered and I simply forgot?).  Anyway, the label that released Pop Matters was also responsible for reissuing the Paul Collins Band two albums on CD.  Paul himself was co-executive producer for this sampler of then-current up and coming power pop troupes, and conveniently in the mid-90s practitioners of that stripe of music were enjoying something of a resurgence. There really aren't any household names on Pop Matters to save mine, yours or anyone's life, but The Tearaways, Grip Weeds, Cockeyed Ghost and Jeremy (Morris) all garnered a reasonable modicum of support in indie pop circles, and continued making albums long after this comp had come and gone.  Talented as some of the other participants were, combos including The Kicksouls, Million O' Clock, Prellys and Twin Bees were scarcely whispered of again (or so it would seem).  There are faint parallels to ...Matters and the Yellow Pills compilations which were also a product of the same era.  The consistency of what's presented here is remarkable, and despite a full quarter century sailing by the bulk of this disk is mightily effective.  Dive in and discover a new-old favorite or two. 

01-The Grip Weeds - Salad Days
02-The Hippycrickets - Margaret Sez
03-The Critics - Every Good Boy
04-The Tearaways - Never Again
05-Big Hello - Your Mad Mad World
06-Major Nelson - No Home Outside This House
07-The Rockinghams - More Than One Way
08-The Jennifers - Keep It Up
09-The Kicksouls - Chickie
10-Twin Bees - Daddy Works For The Crime
11-The Idea - Private World
12-Million O'Clock - January Fool
13-Jeremy - I Want To Be With You
14-Cockeyed Ghost - Dirty Bastard
15-Prellys - The Peace I Might Have Lost

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SLIP~ons - Bad TV 7" (2019, Scamindy) - A brief review

Brock Pytel isn’t exactly a household name, so if I may impart a crash course, he was half of the singing/songwriting force behind Montreal’s Doughboys, a rollicking, skate-punk friendly setup who were lucky enough to benefit from his talents in the late ‘80s.  The other half of the Doughboys, Jon Kastner, went onto slightly greater renown, steering his band to a major label in the '90s, albeit sadly, Pytel was out of the lineup by then.  If you've familiarized yourself with the first two Doughboys records, Whatever (1987) and Home Again (1989), Brock's vocals are easily identifiable as the gruffer and more rugged of the band's mouthpieces, on cult-classic punk-pop bangers "You're Related" and "You Don't Know Me."  The more I think about, he almost functioned as the foil to Kastner's comparatively more tuneful pitch.  

He’s been a bit reclusive ever since, managing an under-the-radar solo LP, Second Choice in 2000, but he's convened an ace new posse, the SLIP~ons, whose guitarsy power-pop is an apt showcase for his rugged timbre and emergent melodious chops.  The sonic palette on the band's second single, "Bad TV," isn't far removed from the canvas the Doughboys were won't to assault with spray paint, but it is more economical than what we heard from him in the '80s.  The hooks set in deep on the nearly five-minute "Bad TV," not only exemplifying how far he's evolved over the past three decades, but makes a strong case for this being the most compelling song he's attached his name to.  The even riffier "Cork & Kandy Glass" is another crunchy delight with a passionate melodic under-bite.  Sure, there may only be two numbers amidst these grooves, but it will leave you craving more, desperately more if you're anything like myself.  Many happy returns Brock!

Physical and digital versions of the SLIP~ons latest 45 are available on Bandcamp, and are also streaming on Spotify.