Six seismic singles!

Ok, put a ton of work into this one.  Assembling these singles collections are usually the most preparation intensive exercises I do all year.  As usual there's no common theme between these half-dozen 45s, rather just some near-perfect spins that I think are worth highlighting.  I have plenty to talk about, so I'll spare you a lengthy intro and get down to brass tacks. 

The Windmills - The Day Dawned On Me/Dolphins 7" (1988, S.T.S.)

I picked this one up assuming the Windmills only had a presence during the '80s, but was caught off guard upon learning that they reunited sometime around 1999 and released a considerable body of music in the years that followed.  This was their one and only release for several years.  These Britons were absolutely clued into their surroundings, purloining a thing or two from the Close Lobsters, and other C86 luminaries, but by my estimation they fixed a keener gaze on what was emanating from New Zealand.  I much appreciate the Chills-worship on both cuts here.

Principles of Literary Criticism - She Gets/Maybe 7" (1985, No Prior)

A one-and-done intro/swan song from a trio who ostensibly called central New Jersey home.  Another blind purchase of mine, and my assumptions that Principles... were cut from left of the dial cloth.  Subtle but clangy chords abound on this 7".  Melodically sentient as well.  "She Gets" throbs at a respectable mid-tempo, with the flip "Maybe" sporting a sweet countermelody, thanks to Larry Archers inviting guitar fills.  Would love to hear anything else PLC may have committed to tape. Solid principles indeed.

Bleached Black - I Was in Your Life/Chelsea 7" (1985, RiJiD)

Another keeper from '85, from a threesome we've had the pleasure of hearing before.  I've owned Bleached Black's LP and 12" ep for what feels like eons, yet I didn't really pay attention to this 45 until some forty years after the fact.  Late frontman "Stevo" Stephen Deal was seemingly incapable of unleashing anything that approached mediocrity, and to think, these two jangle gems were just the beginning of a fruitful, albeit bespoke musical run.  If you have a jones for purveyors like Rain Parade and early Smithereens, this one is destine to be an absolute diggit.  

The Neats - Caraboo/Harbour Lights 7" (1983, Ace of Hearts)

If you ever wanted to define "American post-punk" a picture of this Neats 45 might as well reside next to in the dictionary.  "Caraboo"

bleeds copious shades of melancholic yet angsty scree in the artful and serrated manner of the band's hometown brethren done great, Mission of Burma.  This bygone Beantown collective belatedly came onto my radar with the equally persuasive 1982 ep, The Monkey's Head in the Corner of the Room, and I've been a convert ever since.  The flip, "Harbour Lights," a Platters cover of all things is a shmaltzy, not to mention disorienting left turn, but I have to give the Neats credit for nailing the authentic aesthetic of the original version.   

Rebel Waltz - Umbrella/Highway of Doom 7" (1990, Soon to Be Rare)

Many have been accused of usurping the tenor of Minneapolis' halcyon-era trifecta of Husker Du, The Replacements and Soul Asylum, yet not only did Oshkosh, WI's Rebel Waltz have the sonic bona fides in place, but also wielded deft songwriting chops to boot.  This striking, splatter-laden slice of green transparent wax offers two stick-to-your-ribs salvos of satisfaction - the rambunctious "Umbrella," and the uber-Asylum-ish "Highway of Doom."  I have yet to encounter an unsatisfactory song from these gents.   The majority of R/W's relatively deep oeuvre has recently been digitized and made available here.  

J Church - She Never Leaves the Neighborhood 7" (1993, Dead Beat)

Last but not least, there were a myriad of J Church singles that could have occupied this spot, but not only does this one consist of the marvelously dynamic (think in the vein of the Pixies) "Good Judge of Character," She Never Leaves... functions as an archive of a 1993 Peel Session from Lance Hahn & Co.  Better yet we're treated to double b-sides, including the raging, "Financial Zone," a testament to the band's socio-political penchant conveyed by an aggro punk-pop delivery system, which for roughly fifteen years they made their indelible calling card.  "Priest," is slower, yet not by definition a ballad, and it's narrative vibe may be more of an acquired taste.  Regrettably I have to refer to Lance in the past tense as he left us in 2007.  I'm telling you, this guy would have been a blast to follow on social media (among many, many other gnarly things).  

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