El ruido del rerrocarril, como todas las noches, esa noche,  sin piedad alguna, logró despertarme y sacudir el foco de mi habitación. Y luego el silencio. El silencio desesperante de un paisaje negro y gris, donde en el marco de mi ventana, observo el mundo reducido a un metro cuadrado, ése es mi mundo.

El viejo tiene más apuro por revolver en la basura que por las voces en su cabeza. Voces tafofílicas que él ya no comprende porque olvidó el significado de la palabra muerte, de la palabra vida, de la palabra cordura y de la preposición hacia. La cabeza del viejo, calva por completo, estaba sumergida en dos metros cúbicos del festín mecánico del hombre moderno, y el hombre viejo, entre su locura y la danza incorpórea con la más fría de las nostalgias, no es capaz de identificar terrores demasiado inmensos para sí mismo. Pero yo lo veo, identifico las sombras formando un medio decaedro a treintaicinco centrímetros del compartimiento de basura en el lado derecho más extenso y diez centímetros en el lazo izquierdo más cercano, en un área de cuatro metros cuadrados a razón de mi ventana, creado por el vertiginoso conjunto de edificios que conforman el complejo habitacional. Monstruos de concreto permanecen quietos, estóicos vigilando al viejo, como seres ctónicos, simples mortales pero apócrifas deidades, tótems industriales alzados hacia el cielo gris del medio día, siendo ofrendados con neblina, alimentados de nuestros miedos y angustias, divirtiéndose con el desfilar de las marionetas trajeadas, chupándonos el alma por cada rayo de luz que, egoístamente, niegan.

Nada parece importarle al viejo. Tenía los ojos casi cerrados por la hinchazón de la cara, producto de la bebida, sus manos estaban cubiertas por guantes de soldador, que algún día debieron ser amarillos, dejando al aire un conjunto de nueve dedos grasientos, cuatro en la mano izquierda y cinco en la mano derecha, estaba cubierto en arapos que debió encontrar en algún lugar idéntico al que husmeaba, en la espalda llevaba consigo una mochila de un solo corpartimiento que parecía estar a reventar, como si al introducir un solo alfiler fuese a explotar por la fricción de capa tras capa tras capa tras capa de óxido.

A mi alrededor, alrededor del viejo, y alrededor de un radio de dos kilómetros no había más que el reino muerto de la angustia post-moderna, ruinas contemporáneas gorgoreando como sangre agua en venas negras, oscuros canales sirviendo de receptores a una metálica espina dorsal, forrada de cemento, firmada con decadencia y muerte del color.

Todo eso me horrorizaba, mas el viejo se limitaba a mirar uno por uno los restos de aparatos eléctricos, mecánicos y demás satánica tecnologia. Parecía seguir un criterio dispar al alegir las piezas que devolvía al basurero y aquellas que después de una sonrisa casi infantil, apartaba cuidadosamente en el suelo. Luego de lo que me parecían cinco piezas de tubería y dos leds de pocos centímetros, es que el viejo se sentó en el concreto y con lo que había recogido anteriormente, armó algo que me pareció un bastón con un led como punta.

Solo un avión desgarró la quietud del momento con su sonido de navaja y sus cuatro luces parpadeantes que, por alguna razón, sentí tristeza al ver, como si fuese su solitud en lo que reflejara mi solitud y en su insipida entropia se volcara todo el nihilismo que dentro de mí existía y hubiese volcado, si no en las luces, en el cielo mismo, mientras imaginara luces.

El viejo parecía contento. Abrió su mochila y expuso una figura tanto tierna como perturbadora, se trataba de un robot, o parte de él. Conectole los bastones, que eran antenas, cuarentaicinco leds de diversos tamaños que ahora prendían uno tras otro como serie de navidad extraterrestre. Caminó. Lágrima tras lágrima, el viejo soltaba carcajada tras carcajada, aun sentado sobre sus propias piernas aplaudia a su hijo, una felicidad, de aquellas que jamás conoceremos los hombres concientes, los que aun miramos la realidad por los ojos del smog y el ruido urbano, nunca, jamás, en la vida, ni en toda la eternidad, seríamos capaces de experimentar. El robot siguió caminando algunos minutos más, prendiendo sus antenas y su pecho, moviendo su cabeza de un lado hacia el otro para beneplácito de su amo, que ahora, luego de buscar en cada cubículo de chatarra en este jardín de muerte oxidada, este cementerio del progreso humano, ha logrado encontrar la belleza y la inocencia, en donde menos lo esperé, viniendo de la misma mierda en la que estamos ahogados, ternura.

a ñ o : 2 0 0 9

g é n e r o : b l a c k  m e t a l / p o s t – p u n k

p a í s : f r a n c i a

d e s c a r g a : http://www.mediafire.com/?m3gmmwoyzkn

En 1977 el dúo Suicide formado por el cantante Alan Vega y Martin Rev a los teclados y caja de ritmos editó su primer elepé homónimo el cual provocó una gran conmoción por lo novedoso del tratamiento, básicamente un teclado, una primitiva caja de ritmos y  la voz cavernosa de Alan Vega en un entorno repetitivo o monocorde – premonición de lo que sería buena parte de la música electrónica – y decididamente low-fidelity. Muchos músicos de variados estilos han reconocido que Suicide fueron una gran influencia. Aún están en activo. Más información en las páginas de Martin Rev y de Alan Vega.

First of all, I have to say – this is my 100^th post since relocating to WordPress. It has been a great trip and I want to thank everyone who has visited. Last night’s show put my tune ID’ing skills to complete shame. Ed reminded us why he is the absolute master of obscure – the rare tunes just kept spinning, one after another. That’s the way we like ‘em. Thank you, Ed.

Be sure to tune in to Ed and his “just try and guess *this* one” 80’s Retrospect show on CFRC-FM from 8 pm until 10 pm on Tuesday nights. Ed takes requests by phone: (613) 533-CFRC (2372) or email: retrospectcfrc at yahoo dot ca. Indulge yourself in some “80’s Music that doesn’t suck.” I guarantee die-hard 80’s New Wave/post-punk fans will not be disappointed.

CFRC-FM Playlist November 24, 2009

Basement of Carruthers Hall in Queens University, Kingston, Ontario
ED-FM ~ Retrospect
80’s Music That Doesn’t Suck
If the “Listen Live” link on the CFRC Website doesn’t work, copy and paste this URL into your Windows Media Player: http://sunsite.queensu.ca:8000/
Join us in the Chat Room during the show – either click the link on the right menu under the Rave and Roll graphic, or here.
To listen to any shows that you may have missed, go to the CFRC website and look up the archives under the “Programming” drop-down menu. You can enjoy Ed’s previous shows in one-hour increments.

1.      Jane Siberry – Mimi On The Beach
2.      Rational Youth – Hot Streets
3.      Shyboy – Children’s Eyes
4.      Data Bank A – Etiquette Of Travel
5.      The Tourist – It Doesn’t Have To Be This Way
6.      The The – December Sunlight (Cried Out)
7.      Abecedarians – Smiling Monarchs
8.      Shock – Angel Face
9.      Shriekback – Over The Wire
10. Spoons – No Electrons
11. Neon Judgment – Chinese Black
12. Monsoon – Ever So Lonely
13. Payola$ – Romance
14. Cassandra Complex – One Millionth Happy Customer
15. It’s Immaterial – Rope (extended mix)
16. The Box – All This Cash
17. Steve Hackett – A Doll That’s Made In Japan
18. Mark Shreeve – Legion
19. Spandau Ballet – To Cut A Long Story Short (extended mix)
20. Jackie Leven – Love Is Shining Down On Me
21. Echo & The Bunnymen – Never Stop

It  has been a great season for The Wafflehouse backyard raised bed gardens in West Oakland. We sprouted from seeds Dinosaur kale, Curly Kale, Tomatos, Zuchini, Eggplant, Snap Peas, Blackberries, Elder Berries, Salad Greens, Sorrel, Hot Peppers, Green Bell Peppers.

Difficulties with pocket gophers eating the roots of certain plants from their tunnels. I would notice the leaves wilting, then touching the stalk of the plant i found that there were no roots attaching it to the ground! It started with the peas, we flushed the tunnel with the garden hose and they dissappeared for awhile.

They returned this month to eat the roots out from under the eggplants, every damn single one. I hosed the hole right there in the middle of the raised bed, but i feel like the gophers had already retreated. I believe they have learned that this area is prone to sudden flooding. I can only be happy that they seem disinclined to consume the roots of the kale plants, the leaves of which i eat nearly every day! Do they realize this, and we have reached symbiosis? No, i think kale roots must be boring and tasteless to them. They also have left the zuchini roots alone. We are thankful.

Another issue was the white mold that completely overtook the zuchini plants, covering the top side of the leaves and surely blocking off the sunlight, putting a halt to the plant’s photosynthesis. The production of zuchini squash slowed drastically.

I searched the web for a solution to the white mold problem and found a post that suggested a mixture of 50% water and 50% milk sprayed on the leaves. I found a simple trigger spray bottle and some milk from the fridge that was expired, sprayed the leaves with it. The next few days a drastic change happened to the leaves, overnight they became green again! The white mold was killed thru some chemical/acidity change caused by the milk.

Hooray! I love it when a plan comes together. -Rob

[Descargar][Escuchar en Spotify][¿No tienes Spotify?]

In This Light And On This Evening es el tercer álbum de los británicos Editors. Con él, han decidido dar un paso más allá para no encasillarse en su anterior estilo, tan criticado por ser muy similar al de otros grupos como Joy Division o Interpol, y han subido el volumen de la electrónica y disminuído el de las guitarras eléctricas.

Este nuevo álbum, lanzado el 13 de octubre de 2009, se separa del anterior modelo de guitarras electricas + épica y se sumerge en un ambiente más oscuro y profundo, un ambiente creado por una electrónica perfecta utilizada en los momentos perfectos. El primer single, y el único hasta ahora, es ‘Papillon‘, cuyo videoclip podréis ver un poco más adelante.

Tracklist:

1. In This Light And On This Evening (4:21)
2. Bricks and Mortar (6:21)
3. Papillon (5:24)
4. You Don’t Know Love (4:39)
5. The Big Exit (4:44)
6. The Boxer (4:40)
7. Like Treasure (4:52)
8. Eat Raw Meet = Blood Drool (4:53)
9. Walk The Fleet Road (3:47)
10. This House Is Full Of Noise (6:24)
11. I Want A Forest (4:01)
12. A Life As A Ghost (4:36)
13. Human (3:14)
14. For The Money (5:54)

De entrada, la primera track, la que le da nombre al disco, nos abruma con la nueva oscuridad creada por Editors en este álbum. ‘In This Light And On This Evening‘ fue inspirada, según el vocalista y letrista Tom Smith, en un cierto momento del día en el que se encontró a sí mismo mirando unos edificios de Londres, y supo que era lo más bonito que había visto en su vida, y de eso trata la propia canción. A continuación podéis ver un directo, en el que se aprecia muy bien que no son sólo buenos en el estudio, sino espectaculares en vivo también.

Poco después en el tracklist, nos encontramos con el single: ‘Papillon‘. Esta canción es la que más mantiene el parecido con los esquemas seguidos en el anterior álbum, An End Has A Start (2007).

‘You Don’t Know Love‘ es una más de las esenciales del álbum. Aquí se observa quizá mucho mejor el cambio que han dado que en el resto de tracks. La electrónica y la profundidad de la voz de Smith son claves.

A partir de ‘This House Is Full Of Noise‘, son todas bonus tracks, ésta incluída, que sólo se pudieron obtener en las tiendas de UK cuando el álbum salió a la venta. Os dejo con esta por último ya, para no extender mucho más, pero escuchadlo en Spotify al menos, que no tiene desperdicio.

Growing up a fan of early Madonna and Debbie Harry in Blondie, I gained a deep appreciation for the female aesthetic in my pop/rock music. Throughout the 80’s Belinda Carlisle fueled that taste quite a bit as well, but Belinda always played to being the earnest pop star.

Debbie, in particular, had a very appealing come-what-may detachment from her singing oftentimes, which lent the New Wave Blondie songs a very punk appeal. When Debbie sang, she sometimes didn’t care if you found her sexy or angry or meaningful–she was just going to sing. The video appearances where she gazes glassily into the distance during her performances adds a layer to what I mean. She’s out there (perhaps quite literally at times) and she doesn’t care if you are along for the ride.

So the female vocals then have become one of the most exciting aspects of recently discovering Sonic Youth via my friend Michael (catch him DJ’ing Fists of Fury the second Wednesday of the month at the Rock and Roll Hotel in DC). I’m one of the last people to know that Sonic Youth consists of the core husband-and-wife team of Thurston Moore and Kim Gordon. But Gordon’s detached yet feminine vocal delivery continues the tradition found in those wonderful Blondie songs. She manages to add an extra punk veneer to the already eclectic yet melodic post-punk stylings of her band.

A great example occurs in the latest Sonic Youth album I purchased–Washing Machine. I’m skeptical that I would ever find anyone who would say it’s their favorite Sonic Youth album but fans cannot help but to enjoy it immensely due to entries like the title track. In lesser hands, the song could come across as an odd attempt to compare a date to a laundry cycle. But Gordon’s vocals add the appropriate feel to the song, painting an urban landscape with her whimsical yet hardened delivery.

“This time we will end it
This life ain’t got no future, girl
Don’t say it’s not my business
It’s tragic you don’t feel my pity
Just think of all the others
What they think they feel they say
But the letters are not golden
Till they write them on your tombstone, girl”

It isn’t often when you come across a piece of music so cold and so relentlessly haunting that you simply must take your temperature afterwards to make sure you haven’t lost a couple of degrees. Coming across Germany’s Konstantin Gropper who performs under the moniker Get Well Soon, it was quite a revelation to see that dark chamber pop music isn’t dead. Gropper’s new record entitled Vexations is due out in January but methinks I won’t be able to wait that long to get my grubby paws on this record based solely on the beauty of the first single featured here entitled If This Hat Is Missing I Have Gone Hunting.

I hesitate to use the words goth or gothic to describe the song or the artist simply because of how cliche and boring the genre is but there are definite overtones here right down to the accordion, the minor chords and of course, Gropper’s stentorian baritone vocals. It really is a beautiful track. Granted the song lyrically talks of rationalising suicide from a man to his girl, it is still a very pretty arrangement and still a quite brilliant pop moment in my humble opinion.

If you’re like me and not afraid to delve into the darker shade of pop music, definitely give Get Well Soon. They should find a bigger audience with the new record and it would be well deserved! It’s out 25 January via City Slang.

Get Well Soon on MySpace

“If This Hat Is Missing I Have Gone Hunting” by Get Well Soon, taken from the forthcoming City Slang release, “Vexations”

Delta 5 – Mind Your Own Business

Kill Rockstars re-released Delta 5’s amazing single Mind Your Own Business that would look really hot on your turntable. Order from KRS. There’s a re-mix of the song done by Peter Hook of Joy Division and New Order, and I’m curious (and hesitant!) to hear it. I kind of hate remixes (as anything other than an excuse for me to use when I forget the lyrics to a song I’m trying to sing along with, i.e., “oh shit, this must be a remix”) and equally hate the version of Mind Your Own Business that Chicks On Speed did, but I’ll probably pick it up tomorrow because it’s Delta 5 and this is one of the most important post-punk singles ever.

Call For Submissions

Hello friends, we are requesting writing, art, comics, & photographs, on the practical and philosophical experiences of gender, sexuality, bodies, and queerness.

Personal experiences, good, bad, great, illuminating. Big picture philosophy, rants, funny stories, observations, interviews, desires for the future.

We are creating a positive fuck yeah for diverse queer, trans, body, sexuality, and ultra new wave inclusive feminism.

In the recognition that all oppressions are interconnected, the time is now to share our stories and deconstruct the dead ends.

We have already received numerous submissions, but are extending the deadline until February 1^st, 2010. Yes, you should send something to us. The zine will be printed and distributed thru an awesome independent publisher. This is not a profit or academic oriented venture. We want to share our experiences and open minds to worlds unseen- ours and our readers.

Deadline is February 1^st, 2010.

- Rob & Siobhan, editors

pomohomomofo@gmail.com

counterclockwisepublishing.wordpress.com

Call For Submissions

Hello friends, we are requesting writing, art, comics, & photographs, on the practical and philosophical experiences of gender, sexuality, bodies, and queerness.

Personal experiences, good, bad, great, illuminating. Big picture philosophy, rants, funny stories, observations, interviews, desires for the future.

We are creating a positive fuck yeah for diverse queer, trans, body, sexuality, and ultra new wave inclusive feminism.

In the recognition that all oppressions are interconnected, the time is now to share our stories and deconstruct the dead ends.

We have already received numerous submissions, but are extending the deadline until February 1^st, 2010. Yes, you should send something to us. The zine will be printed and distributed thru an awesome independent publisher. This is not a profit or academic oriented venture. We want to share our experiences and open minds to worlds unseen- ours and our readers.

Deadline is February 1^st, 2010.

- Rob & Siobhan, editors

pomohomomofo@gmail.com

counterclockwisepublishing.wordpress.com

No wonder why I love nearly everything I hear from Fad Gadget – a “band” that has been featured on both David Marsden’s and Ed-FM’s streaming shows. Wikipedia describes Fad Gadget, a pseudonym for the late Frank Tovey, as “(a)n influential British avant-garde electronic musician and vocalist, (who) was an exponent of both New Wave and early industrial music.” That can’t get any closer to the music that I adore.

Frank Tovey released LPs under both his own name and the Fad Gadget monicker. He shared a record label with Depeche Mode, who went on to critical world acclaim that continues today. In addition to being an extremely talented musician, Tovey was also well-known for his stage anctics that included tar and feathering himself, and covering himself with shaving cream while performing. Just listening to his timeless music all these years later, I can’t personally see the need for the performance art schtick because his music stands on its own merits.

In addition to synthesizers, Tovey experimented with the sounds of mechanical and electrical objects such as drills and electric razors. At one point, he was backed by a group known as Pyro when recording two of his LPs in the early 90’s. After a hiatus of several years, Tovey toured with Depeche Mode again as Fad Gadget in 2001. Unfortunately for the music world, Tovey suffered a fatal heart attack in 2002 at the age of 45. He left behind two children and a whole bunch of dedicated fans.

Visit the official Fad Gadget site for more information on this brilliant man’s short, but productive life.

“Collapsing New People” via YouTube user cecibeans:

“Ricky’s Hand” via YouTube user karsich00:

“Saturday Night Special” via YouTube user ronnyecke:

“Life On The Line” via YouTube user PrimetimeApocalypse:

“Coitus Interruptus” via YouTube user 350125GO:

In addition to accessing the official website, purchase Fad Gadget music here.
Purchase Frank Tovey music here.  

80’s Discography 

As Fad Gadget:
Fireside Favourites (1980)
Incontinent (1981)
Under The Flag (1982)
Gag (1984) 

As Frank Tovey:
Easy Listening For The Hard Of Hearing (1984) (with Boyd Rice)
Snakes and Ladders (1986)
The Fad Gadget Singles (1986)
Civilian (1988)
Tyranny & the Hired Hand (1989)

Siempre he pensado que la escena musical portuguesa es una fuente inagotable de grandes formaciones. Además lo he podido comprobar en todos los géneros a los que me he acercado, rock, indie, metal, goth… da igual, el potencial es incalculable.

En rasgos generales es como si todo fuera una mezcla perfecta de talento y recursos técnicos, lo que da lugar a lanzamientos como el del trio de O Porto, X-Wife. Que con una producción de primera línea, y a pesar de haberse formado hace pocos años, lleva una carrera marcada por tres discos geniales, conciertos repletos de energía y ahora mismo una gira por Estados Unidos.

La música es una interesante apuesta adornada por matices electrónicos en el resurgir post-punk que tan bien están llevando a cabo formaciones como Interpol, Editors o Cinematics. Los videoclips también se nota que son un esfuerzo a la hora de completar el lote, como se puede ver estos dos ejemplos que os dejo a continuación… Todo un grupo a descubrir.

Myspace oficial

Video: Heart of the world
Álbum: Are you ready for the blackout? (2008)

Video: On the radio
Álbum: Are you ready for the blackout? (2008)

Manikin - Stop The Sirens
released November 10, 2009 on Super Secret Records

Manikin is a band from Austin, TX that plays what is akin to a form of punk/post-punk that seems to be in the vein of bands such as X, Gang Of Four and The Germs (to my ears that is). Track 1 starts out with competent guitars and maintains a pace that seems atypical for punk. Track 2 is reminiscent of X both in style and the creativity of the band shows through the addition of the trumpet and the well-timed bass line. Track 5 takes on more of a post-punk/new-wave feel to it while managing to sound similar to something that would come out of the late 70s L.A scene.  Track 6 has a nice, punching drum line and the synth kicks in the middle, giving it an interesting twist.

For me, it’s not easy to describe music like this at times. It’s certainly too different to be straight-forward punk rock and the addition of trumpet and synth gives it a different feel altogether. If you’re looking from a break from the typical punk rock, give this a spin.

FCC: None
Try: 1,2,5,6

01. Rule The World
02. Leaders
03. Fumes
04. First React
05. Grinding Halt
06. Death March
07. Sirens
08. Mirrors
09. Perfect Pictures
10. Self-Inflicted
11. Later Days

3/5

Utwory: The Tribal Antidote; Hosannas From The Basements Of Hell; Invocation; Implosion; Majestic; Walking With Gods; The Lightbringer; Judas Goat; Gratitude;

Wykonawcy: Jaz Coleman – wokal, instrumenty klawiszowe; Geordie Walker – gitary; Paul Raven – bas; Benny Calvert – instrumenty perkusyjne;

Wydawca: Cooking Vinyl

Rok wydania: 2006

Data napisania recenzji: 09.09.06

Subiektywna ocena (od 1 do 10): 9

Jaz Coleman po latach penetrowania zakamarków nowoczesnego rocka industrialnego postanowił wrócić do źródeł. Aby nie być gołosłownym Killing Joke nagrywali najnowszy album dokładnie na tym samym sprzęcie co debiut sprzed przeszło ćwierć wieku, przy okazji ładując w nowe utwory tyle energii oraz nieokiełznanej wykonawczej furii, że wydaje się jakby czas dla nich stanął w miejscu.

Już otwierający album zachrypiony krzyk Colemana: “Lift up your spirits!”, potem ruszająca trzewia gra całego zespołu świadczą, że nie będzie zmiłowania na tych “Hosannach z piekła rodem”. Na pewno miło zaskakuje surowe brzmienie zespołu oraz mocny, chropowaty wokal. Coleman niczym szaman, tym razem schowany troszkę z tyłu za instrumentami, wytwarza niesamowity klimat czarnego misterium, co słychać wybornie w kawałku tytułowym. Czasem muzycy patrzą przez ten pierwotny, surowy pryzmat na swoje największe dzieło “Pandemonium” i wychodzi transowo-apokaliptyczna miazga podminowana świetnymi klawiszami w postaci “Invocation”, będąca raczej zaproszeniem do wczasów w piekle. “Majestic” to, majestatyczne a jakże, mieszanie klimatów znanych choćby z “Democracy” oraz tych organicznych, brudnych dźwięków wyjętych prosto z początku lat osiemdziesiątych. “Walking With Gods” to kolejny numer napędzany motorycznym, industrialnym riffem okraszony opętańczym śpiewem Colemana, jeden z najjaśniejszych punktów płyty. W “Lightbringer” znów przelewa się punkowy czad i niesamowita energia godna Lemmy’ego i Motorhead. “Judas Goat” to tym razem schizofreniczny taniec w takt świetnie pokręconych, jazgotliwych riffów gitary i mistrzowsko wplecionych chorych partii klawiszy. Finałowy “Gratitude” to pieśń w oparach siarki na zgliszczach umierającego świata, która roznieca apokaliptyczny żar; kolejna mocna rzecz.

Coleman z kolegami w swej muzycznej kuźni wykuli kolejny świetny album, niesamowicie czadowy, pełen punkowej energii, ale też bardzo nośny. Chyba najlepsza ich płyta od czasów pamiętnego “Pandemonium”.

Autor: Tomek “BlaKcThrone” Jałukowicz

e a música de hoje é hüsker dü.

Makes No Sense At All (Hüsker Dü)

Walking around with your head in the clouds
Makes no sense at all
Sell yourself short, but you’re walking so tall
Makes no sense at all
Is it important? You’re yelling so loud
Makes no sense at all
Walking around with your head in the clouds
Makes no sense at all
Makes no difference at all

You concern yourself with evidence
It’s evident to me
Well you say you’ve got the tiger by the tail
But I don’t see these things that way

Warning: Some of you may be offended by the following tenuous link.

Hey guys! There’s that new Twilight Movie out this week! Rather exciting if you like reading pap. But did you know that it takes until the fourth book, the bloody fourth, to get really mental. Like proper mental. I have it on good authority that in the fourth instalment the girl finally succumbs to having sex with the vampire bloke, she gets bitten and becomes a vampire and then becomes pregnant with a vampire baby. Amazing. It took four books for the creator to introduce borderline necrophilia (technically vampires are dead, right?) into a teen romantic book full of gumph. It took four books and probably about 900 pages to get mental.

The point being that Solihull’s Swell Maps take no time at all in telling you that they’re completely mental. Instruments sound like they’re verging on breaking, most songs are one-two minute ramshackle affairs and its all the better for it.

The first four songs sounds like Public Image Ltd having a fight with The Members with Wire and Gang of Four shouting “Hit him, John” at them. Four of the best examples of punk music in it’s rawest form. When we get to Harmony In the Bathroom though things become a bit more experimental. The introduction of sounds that aren’t instruments, notes delivered like belches, the hammering of a piano. This is what it would sound like if you went into the brain of David Icke. Mental.

Scattered through the record at certain intervals are what I have called ‘musical episodes.’ Blokes talking in Brummie accents over various stuff planted together.

Full Moon In My Pocket, Blam! and Full Moon (Reprise) are basically one song split into three tracks thus providing the album’s only real moment of solid consistency. Usually this would be a fault to pick the band up on yet the incoherence is the absolute crux of A Trip To Marineville.

From then on in it’s equal parts spiky, equal parts experimentation. Extended songs matched by equally brief songs. Noise is balanced by pure rawk. Snotty delivery and slurred words. Musical historians will look back on this album and label it post-punk seeing as this album was on the cusp of that genre’s inception but this is one of the truest straight up punk albums you may probably ever hear.

Nowadays this album gets a lot of attention because of the resurgence in ‘noise rock’ (No Age, Health etc) and other such genres but I think we can safely assume that there won’t be another record made like this or, crucially, as good as this. It might take a few listens to click but seriously stick with this album (even the song that sounds like a bunch of monks) because it really is as good as the cool cats say.

Swell Maps can and should be listened to here.

Next week on Spotify Tapes Chuck E Weiss.

Bauhaus – Ziggy Stardust (David Bowie cover)

Ziggy played guitar, jammin’ good with Weird and Gilly,
The spiders from Mars, he played it left hand
But made it too far
Became the special man, then we were Ziggy’s band

Ziggy really sang, screwed up eyes and screwed down hairdo
Like some cat from Japan, he could lick ‘em by smiling
He could leave ‘em to hang
Came on so loaded man, well hung and snow white tan

So where were the spiders while the fly tried th break our balls
Just a beer light to guide us
So we bitched about his fans and should we crush his sweet hands?

Ziggy played for time, jiving us that we was voodoo
The kids was just crass. He was the nazz
With God given ass
He took it all too far, but boy could he play guitar

Making love with his ego, Ziggy sucked up into his mind
Like a leper messiah
When the kids had killed the man I had to break up the band

Ziggy Played Guitar

Bauhaus

Pere Ubu is one of the most important and respected bands in the history of American underground music. The band formed shortly after the breakup of David Thomas and Peter Laughner’s first group, Cleveland punk forefathers Rocket From the Tombs. Combining intensely surreal lyrical imagery with driving garage rock guitars and Allen Ravenstein’s out-of-this-world analog synth lines, Ubu was a little too weird to be considered straight-up punk rock, and way too punk rock to be considered art-rock or, later, new wave. Part of the charm of Pere Ubu is that over a more than 30-year career they’re still impossible to pigeonhole or pin-down.

There are certain things that hold true of Ubu’s sound throughout their career, David Thomas’s strangled, excited vocals being the most obvious. However, the group tends to be thought of by all but fanatics, of which there are many, as a band who’s earliest work is the most interesting and significant. Certainly, no one can argue that early singles like “30 Seconds Over Tokyo” and “Non-Alignment Pact” aren’t outstanding distillations of Pere Ubu’s high-concept “avant-garage” power. However, the quality of their early singles and first few albums often overshadows some amazing later work that not only rules, but rules in a very different way.

Cloudland from 1989 is Thomas’s first and purest attempt at a straight-up mainstream pop record. Of course, they weren’t really trying to sell-out, they were just trying to pay homage to influences that have always been there. As early as the 1977 b-side “Heaven”, it was clear that the band understood the pleasure inherent in pure, joyous pop music, undiluted by their usual intellectual-isms and avant-garde ambition. Although, The Modern Dance and Dub Housing are likely, and quite fairly, destined to be remembered as their finest moments, Cloudland and other great tracks like “Wasted” from 1993’s Story of My Life serve as a welcome reminder of the other Pere Ubu, a rapturously joyful and hopeful band that sounded like they were having a hell of a lot of fun. (Download Pere Ubu’s Cloudland.)

Allmusic.com’s Spot-on, Informative Review of Cloudland

David Thomas’s Own Pere Ubu Site

A Nice Little Bio of the Band’s History

The Cure
Three Imaginary Boys
(1979)1. 10.15 Saturday Night
2. Accuracy
3. Grinding Halt
4. Another Day
5. Object
6. Subway Song
7. Foxy Lady (Jimi Hendrix cover)
8. Meathook
9. So What
10. Fire In Cairo
11. It’s Not You
12. Three Imaginary Boys
13. The Weedy Burton

W około trzy lata po rozpoczęciu działalności pod swoją ostateczną nazwą, The Cure dorobili się już pierwszego długogrającego krążka. Osoby wychowane na późniejszych dziełach, jak “Disintegration” czy “Wish”, mogą po pierwszym przesłuchaniu “Three Imaginary Boys” czuć się nieco zaskoczone, bowiem debiut zespołu Roberta Smitha daleki jest jeszcze od później wypracowanego, okrzepłego stylu.

Na “Three Imaginary Boys” dominuje stylistyka post-punkowa – instrumentarium pracuje oszczędne (przykładowo partie gitar Roberta Smitha i Porla Thompsona są bardzo minimalistyczne), bardzo wyrazista jest za to perkusja. Na próżno szukać tutaj rozbudowanych wielopoziomowych kompozycji, jakie staną się jedną z późniejszych wizytówek zespołu – średni czas trwania piosenek to około trzy minuty, najdłuższe numery mają nieco ponad pół minuty więcej (tytułowy oraz “10.15 Saturday Night”). Liczy się przede wszystkim jak największa prostota, energia wykonawcza oraz niezłe melodie, do pisania których lider zespołu od początku miał dryg – doprawdy trudno oderwać się od dynamicznego “Grinding Halt”, “Object” z pogłosowanym wokalem, całkiem pogodnego “Fire In Cairo” czy melancholijnego “Three Imaginary Boys”. Nieco niepokoju wprowadza “Another Day”, który poniekąd zapowiada, w jakim kierunku zwrócą się The Cure na następnych płytach. Warto zwrócić uwagę na “Subway Song”, nieco kojarzący mi się z bluesem – może to za sprawą harmonijki ustnej. “It’s Not You” to zaś kawałek o ewidentnie punkowej proweniencji. Pewną niespodzianką może być zapewne mocno przyspieszona “Foxy Lady” Jimiego Hendrixa, śpiewana przez Michaela Dempseya (basistę), ale traktować ją należy bardziej jako ciekawostkę, choćby ze względu, że to raczej swobodna gra podczas próby dźwięku, aniżeli poważna próba zmierzenia się z żelaznym klasykiem rocka.

“Three Imaginary Boys” to album lekki, łatwy i przyjemny, daleki jeszcze od nurtu nowej fali i gotyku, jaka obejmie The Cure w następnych latach. To przyzwoite wydawnictwo, aczkolwiek nie pokazuje jeszcze, jakim muzycznym geniuszem okaże się Robert Smith.

Ocena: 7.5 / 10

Ciekawostki:

• Rok później, na rynek amerykański został wprowadzony album “Boys Don’t Cry”, czyli “Three Imaginary Boys” ze zmienioną listą utworów – część zniknęła, a na ich miejsce pojawiły się inne, nie opublikowane na debiucie.
• Robert Smith przyznał, że już w chwili wydania nie przepadał za tym krążkiem. Wolał wtedy nagrać coś bardziej złożonego, a nie tak lekkostrawnego i przystępnego.
• Smith pierwszy i jedyny raz nie miał wpływu na wybór okładki i inne kwestie związane z płytą. Przykładowo wpływ na dobór piosenek miał producent Chris Parry. Od tej pory lider The Cure kontrolował już wszystkie te sprawy.
• W 2004 r. pojawiła się dwupłytowa, zremasterowana edycja krążka, zawierająca na drugim CD rozmaite rarytasy, między innymi utwory z “Boys Don’t Cry”, jakie nie pojawiły się na “Three Imaginary Boys” – zabrakło jedynie “Killing An Arab” ze względu na kontrowersje, jakie zawsze wywoływał.

Ed treated us to some great obscure songs; jangly guitars, some Siouxsie-like vocals, topped off with a dollop of butt-kicking Can Con. If you think you’ve got your head wrapped around some obscure 80’s tuneage, well think again. Join us on Tuesday evenings and get your fill of 80’s you haven’t heard in years – or maybe not at all. You owe it to your ears.

Be sure to tune in to Ed and his “song stuck in your head” 80’s Retrospect show on CFRC-FM from 8 pm until 10 pm on Tuesday nights. Ed takes requests by phone: (613) 533-CFRC (2372) or email: retrospectcfrc at yahoo dot ca. Indulge yourself in some “80’s Music that doesn’t suck.” I guarantee die-hard 80’s New Wave/post-punk fans will not be disappointed.

CFRC-FM Playlist November 17, 2009

Basement of Carruthers Hall in Queens University, Kingston, Ontario
ED-FM ~ Retrospect
80’s Music That Doesn’t Suck
If the “Listen Live” link on the CFRC Website doesn’t work, copy and paste this URL into your Windows Media Player: http://sunsite.queensu.ca:8000/
Join us in the Chat Room during the show – either click the link on the right menu under the Rave and Roll graphic, or here.
To listen to any shows that you may have missed, go to the CFRC website and look up the archives under the “Programming” drop-down menu. You can enjoy Ed’s previous shows in one-hour increments.

1.      Diodes – Catwalker
2.      Rough Trade – Deca-Dance
3.      Moev – Wanting
4.      Landscape – European Girls
5.      Parade Ground – Strange World
6.      Fad Gadget – Saturday Night Special
7.      Sex Pistols – Friggin’ In The Riggin’
8.      Nina Hagen – Wir Liben Immer Noch
9.      Captain Sensible – The Russians Are Coming
10. Dessau – Skeletons By Nature
11. Big In Japan – Suicide A Go Go
12. M + M – Song In My Head (dance mix)
13. Torch Song – Ode To Billy Joe
14. Stan Ridgway – The Big Heat
15. Men Without Hats – Messiahs Die Young
16. Creatures – Mad Eyed Screamer
17. Abecedarians – Soil
18. Rational Youth – Latin Lover
19. Durutti Column – The Missing Boy
20. Chalk Circle – This Mourning (extended)
21. Art of Noise – Legs (inside legs mix)

Af Michael Meier

Psychedelic Furs - All of this and nothing

Det burde være forbudt at have et opsamlingsalbum som en af sine yndlingsplader, men alligevel bliver jeg selv nødt til at bøje mig i støvet for  bandet Psychedelic Furs suveræne best of album ‘All of this and nothing’ fra 1988. Ikke mindst fordi der imellem alle de andre vidunderlige numre befinder sig denne anmelders absolutte yndlingsnummer.

Det britiske band blev dannet i 1977 og bevægede sig til bandets opløsning i 1991 fra en baggrund i punk-rock over post-punk til new wave og rock. De hjemsøger på den måde samme farvand som f.eks. Echo & The Bunnymen, men the Furs fik med deres egen unikke musikalske cocktail adskillige siden nærmest glemte hits i løbet af 80′erne.

Nu er det på tide at mindes dem igen, da alle sangene på denne opsamling er fantastiske – og numrene kommer i en rækkefølge som føles så naturlig, så det er svært at forestille sig, at de oprindeligt har indgået i anden kontekst.

Der er dog numre, som især skiller sig ud: åbningsnummeret ‘President Gas’ med dets 80′er pessimisme, fantastiske drive og en fuzzy guitarlyd, der nærmest predater shoegaze-genren. Lidt før albummets midte har vi mit all-time yndlingsnummer, suveræne ‘Love My Way’, som bare er et hjerteskærende, bittersødt popnummer.

Albummet slutter også på toppen med hitparade fra bandets mere poppede periode, startende med nummeret som inspirerede filmen af samme navn ‘Pretty in Pink’ og fulgt op af ‘Ghost In You’, ‘Heaven’ og den ultrapoppede og kære ‘Heartbreak Beat’ med 80′er-sax og hele svineriet.

Til sidst vinker albummets titelnummer farvel med det fængende og på mange måder misvisende omkvæd “You didn’t leave me anything that I could understand”. Det passer ikke! Jeg forstår det og kan ikke få nok. Den originale sortklædte 80′er postpunk og new wave fortjener under alle omstændigheder et gensyn i finanskrise-tider, og det her er simpelthen pissegod sortsynet 80′er depression møder sukkerpop, som går lige i øret og hjertekulen.

Som en bonus kommer her en akustisk udgave af The Psychedelic Furs – Love My Way, hvor forsanger Richard Butlers sprøde stemme virkelig kommer til sin ret. Vi lader musikken tale: