LES FRERES, 'In My Arms' b'w 'Among The Stars' (Casey, 1976)
Hey, remember when I had this blog? I don't.
Private mystery label contemplation courtesy of LES FRERES - purchased off the internet for mere pennies and interpreted by my French language scholar buddy for free (turns out, their name translates to 'THE BROTHERS' - who would have ever guessed?).
Budget, lo-fi, basement pop-rock moves with extremely amateurish vocals, likely gazing at the gatefold photos inside 'LET IT BE,' but never quite climbing out of the genre gutter. UNTIL...until that drum-machine kicks in and boy howdy - from then on, I am all in with LES FRERES! Even that tiny guitar solo is money!
This includes when, on the single's flip, the brothers go full-on 'Anchor Man' with jazz flute swoops and minimal lyrics. In a better world, this would have been a bicentennial end-of-party panty-dropper. Alas.
As it is, I don't got any information on these dudes, but suspect that they might be Canadian, however, the seller I picked it off of was based in Georgia so it's anyone's guess really.
I'm not gonna say I'm back because I never really left.
I hate my life, but I like my blog. And I hope you like LES FRERES!
OTHER LIFE, 'Treponem Pal' b/w 'Solitude' (Calista, 1976)
My copy of this 45 has FRENCH SECTION written in Sharpie on the front of the picture sleeve.
Negative images anyway so it doesn't really disrupt the mise-en-scene involved and - that said - I'm not even sure I know what mise-en-scene means.
No info on these mystery Frenchies except that they sing in English on both sides, allude to the bacteria that causes syphilis on the A and rock Ducks Deluxe/Groovies-style on the B.
Enjoy one, both or the other and rubber up. What a country!
JET STREAM, 'You Are The Lady' b/w 'Forever & Ever' (private, 198?)
It's not the heat or the humidity, it's THE JET STREAM!
This is seriously the most killer private yacht rock 45 I have thus encountered. Oh yeah, that's jazz flute on the flip side. Also, that saxophone on the A-side doesn't come cheap so you might wanna dip by your ATM before you try and dock your dinghy in this exclusive starched-collar cove.
Ungoogleable with little to no info, what is transparently clear, however, is that JET STREAM is compassionate conservative pop for white zinfandel people.
WEST MINIST'R, 'Sister Jane,' b/w ' I Want You' (Magic, 1972)
EDIT: Wow. I barely remember writing this; that's how drunk I was. Also, frankly, I have no idea what I was trying to say with most of it. Pretty workmanlike through about the first two paragraphs. Then...when the allusions to Simon & Garfunkel lyrics and the Roman Empire begin, I can only assume by that point I had decided to let the Courvoisier do the talking. Can't really stand by the words - as they're mostly gibberish - but I more than stand by the tunes.
Sorry guys!
I admit it: I made that release date (above) up. However, as Fort Dodge, Iowa's windiest sons seem to excrete their 45 rpm releases in and/or around-two-to-three-year-intervals, I think the scientific method is (more than/or less) on my side. A great foot-in-cold-water, raft-ride down a lysergic delta of tangerine tides, these future HAWKS offer an A-side soundtrack that sublimely recreates the immediate, post-psilocybin or diethylamide twelve-string diurnal chorus reflective of too much time spent examining 'White Album' matrix numbers and not enough time listening to the guidance of Arthur Alexander (i.e. 'You Better Move On'). Which is GREAT! That said, this may be the peak of the early-70s, late-to-the-party 60s-revival sound. On these two sides, WEST MINIST'R are immediately and eminently more believable as Limeys than either THE RASPBERRIES or BLUE ASH. Why? Because of their isolation. E. Carmen with his hair in rollers at the top of the charts could never cop or front to being either a rock or an island. WEST MINIST'R are both; which is why they are the TRUE Monsters Of The Midwest, even if they've never physically beheld either the tower of Big Ben or the rosy red cheeks of the little children. Or something. Rare, precious and beautiful. Dutiful even. Though the command structure therein cries out for reevaulation louder than even the first triumvirate. Which is no matter '...won't you gimme some time?'
ERNIE K. DOE, 'Beating Like A Tom Tom' b/w 'I Got To Find Somebody' (Minit)
Well, it's 1962 OK. All across the JewSA.
There are many reasons why this is still my all-time favorite K. Doe song. Slavish Clyde McPhatter imitative it may be, yet the lyrics are its own defense.
This after-hours/after-bar-contemplative/ruminative approach may be at odds with most of the late-to-the-party 'Dancin' Man' dum-dums who only want 'Mother In Law' and 'Here Come The Girls' nonstop. Nevertheless, for a guy who was still in undisputed possession of his virginity at the ripe old age of 25, the minimal backing SLASH serenade style approach BACKED WITH these lyrics personally ring true:
'I believe I believe It's not what you do It's not what you say The way that you feel The way that you feel sometimes The time and the place I wonder do you believe? I believe'
DENNIS CARLETON, 'FILL IN THE BLANK' b/w 'SOMETIMES I WONDER' (Green Light, 1983)
Jesus Christ...talk about KBDM (Killed By Dot Matrix): whoever GREEN LIT the no-budget sleeve for this release by ex-CHOIR-boy NE Pagans converso DENNIS CARLETON ought to be immediately drawn and quartered by an aesthetic Inquisition/Court Of Star Chamber all their own. Seriously: the FLASHCUBES first single is fuckin Hieronymus Bosch by comparison. Cool hype sticker though.
For the unversed and uninitiated, CARLETON, D. rubbed shoulders and likely shared curlers (and maybe more) with our own American Madhi Modhi E. CARMEN back in the Small Face Sixties. Following upon the collapse of flower power and the less than welcome reception of Woodstock Nation in the Buckeye state, Carleton wandered akin to several other good scion sons of Cleveland (KRISS, CLARK, BEHEMOTH, HYNDE) before returning - prodigal-like - to their original points of departures (ad fontes).
I'm doubtful that RICHARD HELL ever thought his theme-song would receive a rejoinder of this variety. But really, one cannot argue with Carleton's cant - in the 60s it was this and in the 70s it was indeed verily that. Is that a fucking recorder on the b-side?
The inside (typed) interior of this sleeve is very sad, taken up mostly with schills and advertisements for CARLETON's GREEN LIGHT label's menu of cassettes. I've never heard any of them, but if it's on cassette how can it be worth more than the sum of two fucks?
Morethantwofucks-worth is this single. Trash 80 hair-suit graphics not withstanding, D. CARLETON manages to salvage and channel and inject just the right amount of residual RASPBERRIES pop on both sides of his solo single to put him - at least - in the same league as SCOTT MCCARL or JODY KOENIG(maybe even DAVID BRANYAN depending on who's keeping score).
Fizz-pop modern rock best enjoyed with a nose full of duster and a stomach full of cheez-it's, this is the Cleveland pop aesthetic not quite ready for the Reagan prime-time.
BOBBY SULL, ‘HAVE TO BE MY LOVE’ b/w ‘ONE MORE THING’ (Tema
Records, 197?)
Not sure on what planet this constitutes modern or even
crossover soul (read up on your c-frenzy read-ups).
In any event, fairly OBVIOUS Cleveland Caucasian cast
towards Brother Records shores circa ‘Surf’s Up’ or ‘Holland’ two-to-three-years
late.Reminds me most of ‘Darlin’’ or
‘Sail On Sailor.’
But there’s no surf in Cleveland USA, so Bobby Sull –
whoever he was – has to vamp it up and fake the breakers like so many coastal
and/or Anglophile poseurs before him(Eric Carmen please stand up).
If Jon Tabakin is Beach Boys meets ‘Threes Company,’ then
Bobby Sull is at least Brian Wilson cameoing on an episode of ‘Phyllis’ or 'Bosom Buddies.' *
YES, FANS, IT’S THAT GOOD!
Basically, it’s a power pop tune that fits well within the
atavistic M.O. of metro Cuyahoga County.In a better world, Don Kriss and Bobby Sull may have been homesteading
center-stage at Farm Aid in 1985 instead of Waylon and Willie.
No sleeve that I know of issued and no follow-up
neither.But, instead of lamenting this
paucity of material, let us be thankful that B.S. even recorded this at all.
I love this record and wish that anyone who could share
knowledge would open up their pocket-books of info so that all of us could
loave-up and out on sunny Sull-y know-how.
HAVE TO BE MY LOVE
ONE MORE THING
* This quote 100% totally lifted from the gut of Will Penoyar - KING OF MEN!
ANODYNE, "ANACELICA" b/w "THE SEA" (GRIG Records 45, 1985)
...I truly did. In Jr. and High School I REALLY wanted to be Goth. I occasionally wore pink scarves, hung out in front of mall book stores well after closing, pretended to read Nietzsche. I even spurned high school graduation to lie on a mattress at a friend's house, eat cucumber sandwiches and listen to Kraftwerk in the dark (and, to my later credit, The Louvin Brothers' 'Satan Is Real' which we borrowed from his mom cos it had the devil in the title).
But, like so many other things pre-matriculative, I lacked fluency in the social cues that would have opened & allowed me to rub clove-smelling shoulders with the jnco jean goth jet set. SO, instead, I had to settle for standing invitation Saturday nights spent playing AD&D and getting good grades.
So lame.
Thankfully, some 'rich college twentysomethings' - to quote people who saw them live - from near my neck of the woods (Mobile, Alabama) were much more successful in affecting a death rock southern pose.
Anodyne - for those less quick on the wikipedia-draw - is not only a (good) song title by the Cocteau Twins and a (dumb) album by (fake rural dumbos) Uncle Tupelo; it is also a generic term for late 19th century patent medicinal concoctions believed to ease pain. Laudanum and the like.
Which is fitting as Anodyne's attack is patent Chameleons UK guitar-goff with a dash of Bauhaus. ...which is probably inadvertent unless the import bins in the Port City circa 1985 were A LOT more adventurous (which I highly doubt). Dudes probably thought they sounded like poo2.
Aspirations notwithstanding, if I had heard this in H.S., you can best believe I would have added it to my solo ethereal spotlight dance fantasy mix.
Can you believe girls weren't lining up to date me? Maybe Anodyne had better luck with the ladies (or men) in Mobile.
SO! Pile up your hair and close the blinds and dance like only Daniel Ash can see you.
In which I offer zero excuse for my absence and give up any semblance of a regular posting schedule and instead commit to continue to upload retarded hard rock and heavy metal records as I find them or, as in the case of Kick, they find me.
People make up fake genres all the time - ye-ye, acid-folk, biker-punk. And if they can get away with it then so can I. ...cos - the way I see it - KICK - along with mono-syllabic cross-coast plasma brothersBLOOD - may be the torch-bearing vanguard of 1980s BEACH METAL! I'll scan in the back cover tomorrow at work (NO I WON'T!), but you should see 'em: not one, but TWO dudes in creased white chinos, matching color flying V, one dude with a sailboat on his shirt, everybody with patented business-casual styled coiffs. All centered against a black and white backdrop of tasty waves.
Kick get mega credit for rocking so hard and keeping things t-totally beach-centric from their inland home-base of Atascadero as well as for parodying the Annie soundtrack with their cover-art AND - not least - for including the word 'HOT, 'ROCK' or 'ROCKER' in three out of the eight tunes on offer: all of which move in a pomp/late 70s hard rock direction akin to early RATT and a million other opening-act, satin-jacket scuzz-dispensers.
That said, KICK's lone LP smokes pretty much all of the way through; the dedication to their craft attentively reflected in the AUTOGRAPHS my copy bears. Lead vocalist Chuck Lynch states 'I LIKE ROCK N ROLL HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!' Thanks Chuck, I will and I do! Lead guitarist Ed Blackburn advises that the listener and former owner of this record might perhaps 'ROCK IT OUT!' Huh - I might just do that, Eddie; thanks! Drummer Vaughn CASTLE, on the other hand, is more succinct, simply signing his obviously fake and awesome name.
'KICK' is beer-and-beach, top-down-turf-and-surf satisfaction, the only misstep arriving in the form of the proggy, one-bong-hit-too-many 'Wake Me When It's Over.' Kick have no business talking or playing for over six minutes at a stretch, but they do it anyway; use this track as a piss-break or pop out to check the mail and you'll be fine.
Found this record for the sum of one dollar in a flea-market in Meridian, MS. when I should have been visiting my aged grandmother. Well, I'm no Gram Parsons, but in his immortal cornpone accent, I'll dedicate this blog:
THIS ONE'S FER YOU GRANMA!
UPDATE: Perhaps fittingly, moments after typing this blog post I spilled half a can of Coors Light over this record. Where was my autograph warning to drink responsibly guys?!??!
BLOOD, 'FLY ALL NIGHT' b/w 'BOMBED AT THE BEACH,' 'CAMBODIAN BLUES' (Blood, 1985)
I foolishly sold this record years ago when I had to move back in with my parents. Luckily for me, that didn't last long. AND, triply luckily for me AND FOR YOU, I reacquired the record in question AND the ebay listing of our unsweet particular parting survives like an ebay wrinkle in time.
So! As I don't think I could describe this record any better now if I tried, I'm just going to copy and paste my old ebay pitch. PLEASE NOTE THIS RECORD IS NOT FOR SALE! YOU'LL NEVER GET THIS ONE OFF ME AGAIN, SUCKERS!
More private-label mystery-band action, this time from Hauppauge, New York’s BLOOD – Long Island’s answer to the mighty Flying Sixty-Nine! And despite its relegation to the single’s b-side, ‘Bombed At The Beach’ is the obvious stand-out track, earning the green-light of approval for its utterly bone-head lyrics and crude almost Dicators-esque narrative approach. Select lyrics include:
‘At the spot, It’s a wild scene, The girls are hot and the guys are mean, In the sand, The world in my hand, Living in the fast lane in this great land.’
The chorus similarly succeeds by rhyming ‘beach’ with ‘unleashed.’
The verse following continues in this vein, primarily concerning
driving fast and laying chicks; all over a skuzzy, lo-fi, metal grind
(the part where the singer tries to sound crazed and scream is
terrifically unconvincing as well). The other tracks are average to
fine; split between an ineptly atypical AOR/glam rocker with - I think - an anti-drug message and a humorous ‘blues’
about the Cambodian genocide. Borneo Jimmy would be blushing with pride.
Not sure if this ever came with a
picture sleeve. Judging from the extremely primitive label design and the
overall lack of sophistication to the band’s attack, it seems unlikely.
Now I really wanna hear their second single! Anyone holding???
