Saturday, March 31, 2007
As a stop-gap, here's some links to the past, since the comments box is finally back in action... rant at will. This ain't me being too lazy, just too busy.
Rutles Highway Revisited
No New York/Physical Graffiti/The Necks
Mary Lou Williams
Television/The Scene Is Now/Kinks/etc.
Roxy Music boot
Monday, March 19, 2007
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Yep, I seen it, I have. In fact, I paid about $40 for the thing last Friday at Missing Link when I was in one of my rare forays outside of the house in the last 3 weeks. Upon purchasing it, I said to the young shop clerk - let's call him "Scotti" - "I've read really mixed reviews for this, but I don't care. The topic is so close to my heart, so imbedded in my upbringing, my psych, my very being, that no matter how lame it is, I must see it, I must own it". Or something close to that effect. Now having said that, and having watched this a couple of times, I may have to retract those words. I'm not so sure it was $40 well spent.
You've read the Steven Blush book this is based on, right? I have too; bought it the week it came out, read it the day I bought it and walked away rather underwhelmed. So eager was I to get my disappointment off my chest, I even penned a review on Amazon(!). But anyway, Blush wrote and co-produced this pic, Paul Rachman directed it, and for some reason Sony Pictures have gotten behind it for marketing/distribution. I'll try not to repeat myself here from previous posts, but I have rattled on before - at length - regarding the music which is covered here - American hardcore punk ca. 1980-'86 - and the effect said music had on me as an adolescent. It was, to keep it simple, nothing short of a revelation. Gearing up from a year spent worshipping '77 Brit punk as a 13 year-old, my purchases of the Dead Kennedys' Plastic Surgery Disasters and the Repo Man soundtrack (Quincy-punk purchases, for sure, but a young man has to start somewhere) in my 14th year set me on a 20+-year course which probably ruined any chances I mighta had for living a "normal" existence. It was the music of my high school years, a scene full of mentors and heroes like HR, Jello, Henry, Ian, Greg, Chuck, Will & Bruce, Al Flipside, Tim Yo, etc. - love 'em or hate 'em - which helped me keep me sane throughout puberty.
On top of that, I could probably add the fact that, at this stage in my life, I feel like I've probably read just about every book regarding the history of American punk - hardcore and non-hardcore - there is currently available, and I say this w/ no braggaduccio intent: I know my American punk rock. If you're going to make a documentary on such a crucial period in rock history, a period which helped shape just about any real rock music worth a damn which came in its wake, you'd better do it right. Which, of course, is why it pains me to say that Blush and Rachman got this all so horribly wrong. It's not like this is a total disaster, but it could've been so much better.
I don't wish to sound totally negative about it, so let's grace over a few positive aspects: the footage of a 5-piece 'Flag (hairy, end-of-tour period) is a killer, as are the brief snippets of Bad Brains, Void, Negative Approach, Flipper, etc. (I know some people have complained that you can find all this stuff on YouTube. BIG DEAL! You can find everything on YouTube!); hearing the likes of Ian MacKaye (who always comes across as the smartest guy in the room), Henry Rollins, some dude from GWAR, the "dudes" from Corrosion of Conformity, Dez Cadena, Die Kreuzen's Dan Kubinski, Kira, Dave Markey, Ed Colver, Jack Rabid, Greg Ginn, Mike Watt, Steve DePace, Dave Dictor, a surprisingly lucid HR, producer Jerry Williams, the Zero Boys' Paul Mahern, some Culturcide guy and even the likes of Duff McKagen and Flea give some thoughtful and intelligent comments regarding the hardcore scene and, well... that's about it.
What's wrong with it? I'll tell you what's really wrong w/ it in a minute, but first, there are other, slightly more minor faults to address: someone should keep Articles of Faith's Vic Bondi away from a microphone, and possibly a camera, at all times (he is completely obnoxious and full of shit). Whilst you're at it, best to keep Keith Morris (much as I love the guy), Harley from the Cro-Mags and especially a stoned Phil Anselmo(!) out of clear sight, too. But the problem isn't who's in it, but who isn't. OK, legal problems kept Jello and the Dead Kennedys out of action (and no matter what you think of either, a documentary claiming to be the final word on early-'80s US HC which doesn't even mention the man or the band isn't giving the whole picture), and same goes for the Misfits, but what about the following: Jerry A, anyone from Husker Du, Jeff Bale, Tesco Vee, Corey Rusk, Steve Albini, Gary Floyd, Tim Kerr, Al Flipside, or even the likes of Gerard Cosloy, Lou Barlow, Byron Coley and Thurston Moore (all over-achieving undie-rock elder statesmen who found their feet during HC's boom)... Ugh, this is a matter of taste, but for my two cents, Texas had the second-best punk rock scene in the whole country, and it's given about 10 seconds air time, whilst the boneheaded (and musically worthless) Boston and NY scenes managed to waste a good 10-15 minutes of my life (though you do at least get a good laugh at SSD's "hard rock" period).
My main bone of contention regards the sorry lack of any narration in the documentary. It's easy for me to follow the story, and it's probably easy for you, too. Hell, we all know that Middle Class released possibly America's first ever "hardcore" record and that hardcore started to take over the Californian punk scene once the kids from the 'burbs started following Black Flag from gig to gig, thus scaring off the older, artier Hollywood punk crowd. Or perhaps it began when the Bad Brains started attracting the attention of the "Georgetown Punks". Things got faster, harder, heavier, scarier and The Kids took over. But show this film to a total musical diletante and I doubt they'd be able to reiterate any kind of coherent history of American punk in the '80s after having seen it. It's simply a mess. Band names are mentioned, clips are shown, heads do some talking, but it's not pieced together well enough to tell a story, giving the viewer - assuming the viewer to be completely clueless on the topic - how A got to B then to C etc.
If the idea of American Hardcore was merely to get together a whole bunch of talking heads from the old days waxing lyrical in between some pretty cool footage, then fine, it succeeded. I'll probably give this a heavy re-viewing over the next 10-30 years just for that. It's a good thing to show friends some nice footage when they drop by. But it completely failed in telling the actual story: the who's, what's, where's and why's. I can only hope this doesn't go down as the "definitive" look at American hardcore.
OTHER SHIT FLYIN':
1) VOCOKESH - All This And Hieronymous Bosch CD
Great new album from these veterans on Strange Attractors Audio House
2) TEN EAST - Extraterrestrial Highway LP (Alone)
I know I spoke of this recently, though it still hasn't left the stereo. Awe-inspiring instrumental desert jams caught somewhere in the nexus of early Meat Puppets, instrumental Black Flag, Sun City Girls and Slovenly. Possibly my fave rock album of 2006
3) THE EVERLY BROTHERS - The Very Best Of The Cadence Era CD (Repertoire)
My wife gives me grief and calls me the Fonz when I play this at home, but it hasn't stopped me yet. I will belatedly state that the Everlys are worth their heavy rep and then some
4) FATSO JETSON - Stinky Little Gods CD (SST)
Speaking of belatedly... I've only recently purchased this 1995 album since I've been corresponding w/ Gary from Ten East and Yawning Man (both of whom feature Fatso Jetson people, as does Chuck Dukowski's Sextet). I wouldn't have expected an SST album from 1995 to've been remotely listenable, though this one is fantastic, and I'll be delving in for more. Desert dude-rock w/ major nods to the Minutemen, along w/ Dick Dale surf riffs and 'Sabbath-like heaviosity. I like.
5) DENNIS COFFEY - Big City Funk CD (VampiSoul)
Excellent, excellent, excellent comp' from this honky Motown guitarist who made a string of absolutely funkified solo albums in the early '70s. Not bad for a white boy, these instrumentals make great soundtracks for imaginary blaxploitation flicks. You can hear a track from this on, strangely enough, the latest MOJO mag CD, compiled by Iggy Pop. Can't say I like the new Stooges album at all, though I really like Iggy's choices in music: Howlin' Wolf, Junior Kimbrough, Mothers of Invention, Little Richard, Trashmen, etc.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
DAVID S. WARE - Go See The World (Columbia/1998); Surrendered (Columbia/2000)
These two releases will probably stand as any major record company's last flirtation w/ avant-garde jazz. An excellent last stand they be, too. Ware is, along w/ bass player/composer William Parker (both of whom play together often, as on these two CDs), perhaps the great avant-jazz player of the last 30 years. A 30+ year veteran who cut his teeth in Cecil Taylor's '70s/'80s units, saxophonist Ware really hit his stride some time in the early '90s, at which he point he released a whole bunch of titles on labels like Silkheart, DIW and even Homestead, in a brief fit of jazzbo signing it engaged in at the time.
If I'm not mistaken - and I might be - I think it may just be producer Steven Joerg who was actually running Homestead at the time, quit his post to start the great Aum Fidelity label, and in fact produced this album for Columbia. Of course... maybe I have my facts wrong. Whatever the case, perhaps the most odd aspect of Ware's short tenure w/ Columbia - which only lasted these two, now deleted, albums - is that he was signed by none other than Branford Marsalis, a guy I can only assume must be hipper than his square-as-can-be brother (which wouldn't be hard!).
I guess the most important thing to note in mentioning these two CDs is that, for my money, they rank as some of the finest in Ware's rather huge catalogue. There's certainly no let-up in ferocity; if anything there is perhaps some more melody coming into play and the production is a little cleaner than some of his previous efforts, though there's no insult there. It simply sounds bolder w/ a little more room to breathe, and his quartet - William Parker on bass, Matthew Shipp on piano and Susia Ibarra and Guillermo E. Brown on drums (respectively) - all veterans of the NYC scene, is white-hot, just like the oft-mentioned Coltrane quartet everyone and their dog compared them to at the time. And let's face it, you don't get to hear a free-jazz rendition of "The Way We Were" too often, do you?
As you'd expect, both of these fine releases sold diddly-squat and Ware and co. were dropped from the label and went running back to indieland once again soon thereafter (there is an excellent 3CD set on Thirsty Ear from 2005 entitled Live In The World). Whilst you're at it, my second-fave jazz album of the '90s was from Ware and his quartet: Wisdom of Uncertainty on Aum Fidelity, a brain-expanding blow-out from 1997; and his 2001 CD, also on AM, Corridors & Parallels, is a real treat, an attempt by Ware to try his hand at "cosmic jazz", substituting Shipp's piano w/ a synthesizer. Now in lesser hands that really coulda sucked the big one. I mean a synthesizer in jazz: that's a loaded gun w/ horrendous potential. But a label like AM wouldn't've released it if it had, and the expected/anticipated/hoped-for congealing of Sun Ra/Krautrock forays into sound all take place. I don't hear Ware's estimable name bandied about too much these days, so I guess it's up to me to do the talking.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
After a week of being basically trapped inside the house looking after a new born, I headed into the big smoke yesterday and visited Oren at Metropolis Books and Music. "Hey man, your CD is here. Nice liner notes", says Mr. Ambarchi. Huh? He passes me the Afflicted Man Complete Recordings 2CD, which I instantly recognise as an item Chris over at Blog to Comm reviewed a little while back. I open the cover, spot the three-panel liner notes and the credit at the end of them: Dave Lang. A few names in the notes leap out at me: SWA, Wurm, Husker Du, Tar Babies, Minutemen. Now somebody's taking the piss! The label - Senseless Whale - has a Perth address, though Oren concluded that it was likely a semi-boot put out by someone at Forced Exposure. Come on, people, 'fess up!
Saturday, March 03, 2007
I've been off the blog for a bit. There's two reasons for this...
Firstly, my blog manager was rooted and not allowing me to log on, but secondly, and far more importantly, my wife just gave birth, on the 1st of March, to our first baby, Bessie Violet Lang. She was 11 days late, but everything went fine. Right now I'm flying higher than I have in years, so I'm just going to enjoy the thrill for a while. I'm off work for 3 weeks and will be back here w/ a music-related entry later in the week. This is supposed to be a strictly music-oriented blog, but what the hey, I can't keep this kinda great news all to myself, can I?